#I do think it’s quite funny that everything circled around so coiled that I finally know exactly who your icon is of now

[creative-robot]

Dearest mutual Chess! It has been so long since I have seen picrews from you! Do you have any up your sleeve?

MARZI………

I had to go back and see when the last time I posted any of those Picrew spams actually was, I know it’s been a while but I hadn’t thought it’d been OVER A YEAR AGO? I had no idea it’d been that long, and there’s probably piles of reasons why that I won’t get into, but mostly, oh my gosh.

Getting this ask actually does mean a whole lot to me, I didn’t actually think anyone had noticed or particularly cared about my silly little way of saving picrews I’d made into me’s to clear up phone space or the little thoughts I’d put as the captions, and I do actually have a little bit of a backlog of some (as far back as last June). I haven’t been playing around on Picrew quite as much as I used to, but you know what? I still get on sometimes so

Just for you Marzi, I think it’s a good ol’classic picrew spam kinda night

[searenbound]

I’ve been trying to find this one for a bit now, here’s a Bakugou repost from my old blog.

Warnings: swearing, emotional sex, dirty talk

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

“You Dumbass! You have some fucking nerve! Making me worry like that!”. (Yn) winced at the loud voice of her boyfriend, blinking her eyes open. “Babe you’re being to loud” she sighed rubbing the side of her head “I have a terrible headache right now”. She paused to look around her in confusion. They were in the infirmary. Why? Her eyes landed on her boyfriend, his agitated appearance barely masking the concern he felt. He sat on the edge of the bed before pulling her into his lap with an annoyed huff.

“You passed out during training today” he sighed answering her unspoken question “I thought we talked about this (Yn), you can’t push yourself so hard somethings gotta give”. She pressed her face into his shoulder, she hated when he was calm and quite like this. Bakugou didn’t do calm and quite like this. Sure, they had softer moments where he spoke this gently to her, but this was different. This was him scolding her, and it felt almost parental in a way. She almost wanted him to yell despite her pounding head.

She sighed readjusted herself so they were both a little more comfortable “You don’t have to worry so mu- Ow!” he interrupted her with a flick to the forehead “I’m your fucking boyfriend of course I’d be fucking worried about you!”. (Yn) rubbed at her forehead mumbling and resisting the urge to snap at him for flicking her still aching head “I’m fine Tsuk-”.

“You were lucky (Yn)!” he yelled at her pulling her tightly against himself. He refused to let her get a word in as he continued to unload his worries. Not that she wanted to interrupt him, he clearly needed to say this. “What if we were doing a more intense lesson or out in the field? You could have been more hurt just by hitting your damn head!”.

She sighed rubbing his back gently, she knew he was right. She had been so worried about falling behind the rest of her class that she had made choices that weren’t exactly healthy for her. She hadn’t noticed how much it was affecting her until now. It’s kinda funny how she was blind to how badly she was hurting herself until seeing how much it was hurting him. "I’m sorry, I just-“ he shushed her with a kiss “I know, but you don’t have to neglect your health to get stronger dumbass”. She huffed at him shoving at his shoulder “We were having a moment Katsuki!”.

He laughed at her with a lazy smirk that made her heart skip a beat. She knew what that look meant “R-right now?”. “I need you (Yn)“ he murmured moving to lay her down. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers quickly before pulling away “I want you so badly Princess”.

She wrapped her arms around him, giving his lips a peck before speaking "I-I want you to but what if we get caught? We’re still in the infirmary and-”. He silenced her with another kiss, his tongue swiping over her bottom lip. She allowed him access, letting him explore her mouth despite their situation.

“Recovery Girl already left for the day” he panted as he caught his breath “Everyone else is already back at the dorms, do you still want to head back?”.

Her face felt burning hot, her hands tugging anxiously at his clothes “I don’t want to wait”. He gave her a smug smile pressing his lips against her forehead again before beginning to strip.

She sighed dreamily, of course she’s seen him naked before, but seeing him was always such a thrill. He was beautiful, he didn’t always like to hear it but it was true nonetheless.

She took a moment to admire him. They had been each other’s first, a fact that still filled her with pride. Only she had seen him like this. She hoped to god she’d be the only one who ever gets to see him like this.

He grew impatient with her staring and nearly tore her clothes off before dropping them into a pile on the floor. “You’re so beautiful (Yn)” he praised, running his hands along her bare skin and drinking in her soft little mewls.

“I could say the same about you” she murmured as his lips made contact with her neck. He pulled away from her his eyes meeting hers as her hands came up to cress his face. “(Yn)-” “I mean it, I know you don’t like it when I call you beautiful, but you are. I love you Katsuki”. He rolled his eyes and tried to hide his smile by returning his attention to her neck.

“Hey, don’t ignore me I said I love you” she whinnied at him. He chuckled, his hands cupping her breasts and massaging the soft skin “I love you too Princess”. He pinched and rolled her nipples making her moan and sigh as she arched into his touch.

“Baby, no more teasing please” she whined “I need you inside me”. He groaned and didn’t need to be told twice, wasting no time as he pushed into her. (Yn) moaned in pleasure raking her nails down his back and wrapping her plush legs around his waist.

“Fuck, you always feel so good around me Baby” he groaned nuzzling into the side of her neck. “Don’t say embarrassing things like that!” she whined at him. His only response was a laugh and another a kiss, this time to her temple. He rolled hips against hers before slowly thrusting in and out.

“Faster” she whimpered bucking her hips up to meet his, but he refused to comply at the moment, instead opting to gently circle her clit with his finger. “Tsuki please!” she begged pawing at his shoulders “I need more!”.

He smirked against her neck before sucking on it. Making sure a nice little mark was left before pulling away to watch her as pounded into her harder “Like this Baby girl?”.

“M-more please, I need more” she whimpered as he pressed little kisses to her jawline, assuring her that he’d take good care of her. His fingers worked their way down her body, landing once again on her clit. He moved his fingers teasingly slow at first. Working up his speed and playing roughly with the little bundle of nerves, making her see stars.

“How about now Princess? Is that good? Is that what you wanted?” he groaned in her ear, his voice deep and husky. “Y-yes! Just like that!” (Yn) screamed moving her hands to hold onto his biceps. “I-I’m gonna cum! P-please B-baby I need you to make me- ahah!” She begged, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.

“So needy, are you sure Baby? You positive you want me to make you cum on my dick?” he panted, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Yes! I need it” she whined her legs tightening around his waist, effectively trapping him in place.

A few more thrusts and they’d both would be done for.

He continued to fuck into her, the tight coil inside of her core winding up more and more until it finally snapped, pulling a loud scream from her throat as her orgasm washed over her while buried himself in her as deep as he could, his own release hitting shortly after hers.

Sharing one more kiss before finally getting up, they made sure to clean up and get rid of any evidence of their… activities before leaving.

He carried her back to the dorms, insisting that it was only because he didn’t want her pushing herself to much again.

"But seriously (Yn), if you wanted to train more you could have told me, I would have figured out training regimen that worked for both of us, or you could have-”. She interpreted him with a sheepish sigh and looked up at him with an equally as sheepish face “I know this is silly, but I uh. I didn’t want to be a burden or- mph?”.

She was silenced by his lips on her “Dumbass” he huffed under his breath after breaking away. He held her just a little tighter “You aren’t and never will be a burden to me and I know those losers you call friends think the same”. She sighed and playfully smacked his shoulder “They’re your friends to you know”. “You can’t prove that” he said flatly as he gently tossed her up and caught her, revealing in her cute little giggle before repeating his actions.

“Don’t let them hear you say that” she said between her laughter “I think Kiri would genuinely be heartbroken if he heard you”. He snorted at her trying to maintain his uncaring act, but his smile gave him away “Yeah, yeah whatever”.

She smiled nuzzling into him “Thanks Tsuki”. "For?“ He questioned as they finally reached his dorm, no one was around to stop them, so he decided to just let her stay there for the night.

"Everything” she gave a yawn as he helped her to bed “I’m lucky to have you, I love you”. “I love you too” he murmured but she was already asleep. He sighed crawling into bed next to her with only one thing on his mind.

He reached for his nightstand and opened the first drawer pulled out a little black ring box. He sighed as he passed it back and forth in his hands.

He had bought on a whim. The ring had fit her taste perfectly. He would have been an idiot to have not bought it despite the price.

He knew they were still young, hadn’t even graduated yet, but he’d never been surer of anything in his life. He sighed putting it back before turning to her sleeping form “I’m the lucky one Princess” he smiled running a hand through her hair before kissing her forehead “I’ll make you the happiest woman, I promise”.

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 34

Chapter Selection 

"Stop!", Aaron was overtop of me pinning me to the bed. His hand kept me down while the other was going over my stomach. "Aar- Aaron", the laughter made my stomach tense and tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. 

I hooked my leg around his and I flipped us over. I looked down at him and a smug smile covered his face, "How does it feel now." 

His hands went to my hips and he hummed, "Actually not that bad. Maybe you should be on top more often." I couldn't stop the surprise look I gave him.

Aaron grinned and hooked his leg behind mine rolling us over again. My hair spread along the pillows that laid under my head. 

"You thought I'd actually let you do that, it's funny really. But we both know you'd much rather let me take control. Leave you begging for more." 

I could already feel my underwear dampening at his words. His voice was getting darker with every word. 

It was getting to Aaron as well, from his half hard dick pressing against my inner thigh. 

"I love seeing you underneath me." I consciously lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips. He was pressed right up against my clothed core. 

I reached a hand up and softly tugged at his hair. 

"What context? Because every time I'm on the bottom we're doing something a little bit different than this." 

"Baby you know exactly what context I mean... I can feel it. I haven't even done anything yet. You're just desperate for me aren't you?" 

He didn't even need to say anything, dropping the hand from his neck. I placed it between us, palming him through his boxers. 

He took a deep breath and his eyes almost flustered closed, I loved how we still had this effect on each other. He lowered himself, his lips met mine. 

His elbows settled next to my head as he got more comfortable. His fingers tangled lightly in my hair as he deepened the kiss. 

He quickly removed my shirt and the cold air rolled over my body. 

His tongue pushed its way into my mouth, I welcomed it and toyed with the waistband of his boxers. 

My warm hand met his hot skin, I slowly pumped his dick and he broke the kiss. Aaron dropped his head and littered my neck with kisses. 

Biting and soothing over the flesh with a cool breeze. My fingertips ran over his head and I spread the pre cum. 

I heard his heavy breathing in my ear, he had stopped his actions and was just enjoying it... that's not what I wanted. 

I pulled my hand from him and quit all together, his eyes reopened and met mine. Silently asking 'why', I shrugged my shoulders. 

"When you cum I want it to be inside me."

He sat up and walked away from me, "You think you can speak to me that way?" Oh shit. He made over to my dresser. 

Aaron cocked his head to the side, "In here right?" Opening the drawer he pulled out the little box. 

How the hell did he know that was there? The box had some toys that I had bought after we got back together. 

I was feeling more confident and I wanted to surprise him with it knowing he was more on the rough side of everything. Aaron walked back over to the bed placing the box on the edge. 

"How did you know that was there?" He lightly chuckled. 

"We read people for a living y/n." He flipped the top and opened it. 

"But-." I tried to speak but he cut me off. I sat up against the headboard and watched him roam through the items. 

"A week ago, you said you were going out and when you came back you wouldn't let me look at what was in the bag. That and because you were giddy the entire time and wouldn't let me in your room for a good ten minutes." 

He emptied the box, "Lay down.... you still remember the safe word right." 

I nodded and obliged, laying my back against the warm sheets. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just making sure, last time you-." 

"That was different. I'm okay." I wanted to reassure him, remembering last time this happened, I was overwhelmed. But this time is completely different, I couldn't put my finger on why. 

"Spread your arms." The red ties he held in his hand wrapped around my wrists and left me bound to the headboard.

He stood over me on the side of the bed. Trailing his hand down my neck to my breast. 

He cupped it and massaged them, running his finger over my now hard nipples. His other hand made its way down to where I needed him. 

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?"

"Yes sir", I gave him the answer he wanted and I got a reward when he dipped his finger in between my folds. Spreading the arousal that resided there, he took his time circling my clit. 

Letting me just enjoy it, when I started rolling my hips he pulled away. I was getting needy.

"I didn't say you could do that." 

"I'm sorry sir", I said as he walked away from me back to the edge of the bed. He shook his head and grabbed something else. The other tie, he came back up and covered my eyes. 

I couldn't see anything, my hearing being the thing I relied on most at the moment. 

I felt it, whatever it was at my entrance... then he pushed it in. Fuck, and he turned it on the lowest setting. Why the hell did I buy this

Then I heard the chain... the nipple clamps. "What do we have here sweetheart", he walked over and applied them onto me. 

The pain mixed with pleasure as the pressure from the clamps squeezed my sensitive nipples. 

He was loving this, he tugged on the chain and my back arched off the bed. I heard his darkened chuckle as he walked away turning up the vibrator. 

"Fuck", I whimpered. Every breath I took stretched the clamps and tugged. It felt like an electric shock was constantly running through me, it only got worse as my orgasm approached. 

The more noise I made the more powerful the vibe was, he wanted me to enjoy myself, to hear me moan. 

I heard soft groaning in the corner, I didn't realize Aaron was in the chair that he pulled up to the end of the bed, having a perfect view of everything. 

Aarons had his hand running up and down his cock, just enough to give him some relief but not enough for him to finish. 

He agreed with me earlier when he finished it was going to be inside me. 

He cranked it higher and I moaned out, tugging on the restraints and hearing the creek of the headboard. I heard Aaron shuffle around the room and I didn't know where he was till I sensed him standing over me. 

Something dripped onto my skin, it burned and it left a small sting... wax. 

He was testing it out seeing if I wanted him to stop... I didn't. When I didn't contest he poured more. 

A trail of melted candle wax went down from the dip in between my breasts to the end of my stomach. 

I hissed through my teeth and let out a breathy moan. 

"That was okay?" 

"Mhmm", I smiled and just enjoyed the feeling as it started to solidify. The candle hit the side table.

"Can the little slut open her mouth for me." He wanted me to do it on my own. He pushed his cock inside my mouth, my whole body at the moment felt full. 

Slowly thrusting in and out of my mouth, flattening my tongue and relaxing my throat. I let him in deeper, the ridges in my throat giving him satisfaction. 

"Fuck baby." His hand tangled in my hair and his thrust stopped, he pushed my head down and left it there. 

Getting all that he could from it, it took everything I had to not gag. 

The vibe went up and my stomach coiled, I tried to ignore it but it was a constant buzzing reminding me why it was there.

Aarons head fell back and his eyes fluttered closed. I hummed around him, Aaron could tell what was happening.

Going farther I traced patterns on his head, his hips shuttered and he pulled me off. A small trail of spit connected from my mouth to his cock. 

He let me have it, the one orgasm I didn't have to ask for mainly because I forgot to. But he figured that, he just watched as my legs shook lightly.

When I calmed down I felt the restraints on my hands getting looser but he didn't take them off. He removed the toy and kept the clamps on. 

The bed dipped and he was over me, he picked up my legs and pressed one around his hip and the other over his shoulder, bringing himself closer to me. 

I felt his tip slide across my slit, spreading the wetness that was already there. 

Aaron pushed in and I stretched around him, "Fuck." I let out a whimper, still being sensitive from my first orgasm.

Pulling out just halfway before he slipped back it, his hand went next to my head. 

The other gripped my hip, keeping me in place while he took his time thrusting into me. 

"Ahh, baby I want to touch you." I tried to slip my hands out of the restraint. 

I wanted to rake my fingers down his back, have his hair in between my fingers. "Only because you asked so nicely", he leaned forwards and cut them off with the knife he had next to him, also taking off my blindfold. 

I saw his face for the first time in twenty minutes. 

His face was tinned pink, the sweat was starting to form on his forehead and his eyes looked primal but gentle. 

I grabbed his face and brought his lips to mine, finally being able to fully move. That's exactly what I did. Taking my leg off his hip I moved on top.

He stopped thrusting, getting startled but excited. "Oh you wanna be on top now? Ok... ride me sweetheart. Take what you want." His hot hands on my warm hips, he helped me get started. 

Picking myself up and slamming back down his cock hit me in just the right spot to have me moaning out. 

"Goddamn y/n", I grinned and continued to bounce on his dick I was already close. My hands settled on his knees, arching my back. 

Aaron came closer and covered my chest with open mouthed kisses while he massaged circles into my waist. 

Aaron reached a hand up and tugged on the chain. "Ahh." 

"Come one y/n I can feel it, cum for me baby." 

"Aaron", I whimpered. He tugged me flush against his chest and slammed into me, while I laid on him. I rested my forehead and I clenched around him. 

His breath was tickling my ear, "Fuck." He moaned into my ear, putting his lips on my ear lobe and bit down. 

"Jesus fuck", I came around him and the pressure was enough to push him over the edge as well. His cum coated my walls and we slowed his movements until they stopped completely. 

Our heavy breathing calmed down and we eventually gathered enough strength to climb off each other. 

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself off, removing the clamps before going back into the bedroom. Aaron had gotten the lotion from my dresser, "You alright?" 

"More than alright", I stole a kiss from him and sat down on the bed. I glanced over at the knife and back at him. 

"Yeah... don't worry about that", he said laughing, walking over to me. Putting the lotion over my wrists he rubbed them in while also removing the dried wax on my torso. 

I met his eyes, and kissed him again but he pulled away. 

"Princess, we need to go to bed." 

I fell backwards and threw my arms outwards, "I know I just don't want to right now." 

"Why not", Aaron said as he was changing the sheets but me laying in the way made that difficult. 

"Bec- because I feel like something bad is going to happen. You know, just a gut feeling." He scooted me over and finished making the bed. 

"Gut feelings can also be wrong, if anything happened during the night then you have full permission to kick my ass for letting you sleep." 

"Now I need permission to kick your ass, okay." 

I got under the covers, the blanket fully covered my shoulders.

Aaron turned off the lights and he settled behind me, bringing me closer to him. His head rested on my covered shoulder and he pressed a kiss to my neck. 

"Goodnight sweetheart." I responded by rubbing the hand that was on my stomach. Everything was good, we were fine... I was fine. 

We slept soundly throughout the remainder of the night, till I was awoken abruptly. The phone started ringing. 

Lazily rolling over I reached and answered, "Hello?" I brought the phone to my ear and closed my eyes again. 

"Hi, is this Y/n Y/l/n?" 

"This is she", I sat up. Aaron looked at me with curious eyes after wakening from the phone as well. 

"You're still the emergency contact for Chloe Prescott. And I'm sorry to inform you that Ms. Prescott has passed." Aaron saw the tears start to fill in my eyes. 

He was quick to place a hand on me, trying to comfort me without knowing what was happening. 

"We need you to come by the Memorial Hospital for confirmation of the body that it is indeed Ms. Prescott." 

..........................

@qtip-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp 

[justthehiddleswrites]

Nothing Holding Me Back | Tom Hiddleston x Reader | Part 2

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom and the reader have been dating for some time. The reader is dying to take this relationship to the next level but Tom is hesitating. So the reader takes things into her own hands and sets up a date night that will certainly light up Tom’s fire.

Warnings: none for this chapter.

-

“Darling, you should know that you can’t overpower me. I will always get what I want in the end,” Tom growled into your ear.

Not willing to admit defeat just yet, you struggled against his grip and while you weren’t able to break free, you did manage to get your lips to Tom’s ear.

“Well, sweetheart, your pants said otherwise in the bar,” you breathed into Tom’s ear before biting his earlobe.

It had the desired effect and with that, Tom groaned and rearranged his grip to hold you with just one of his large hands and took to freeing you from your dress. He pushed the hem high up on your waist, fully exposing your underwear.

You arched your back and he finally releases you. “You promise to behave, darling,” he questioned as he pulled your dress completely off.

You smirked back as you sit up so you can unclasp your bra.

“I make no promises.”

Tom put his full weight on top of you and you had no choice but to fall back down onto the bed. Tom began to move south, taking your breasts in hands. He massaged them, eliciting groans from your mouth. He took one into his mouth, sucking on the nipple firmly. He continued to palm the other one in his hand. You could feel wetness starting to pool in your underwear. You began to breathe heavily.

“Oh..god,” you moaned.

Tom smiled as he looked up towards you.

“You like that? Well, how about this?”

And he turned attention to the other breast, rutting himself himself against the tender flesh, nuzzling his beard against you and sucking hard. You were certain that there would be beard burn before the night was over. You found yourself gasping to respond.

“Yes..I…like….that.”

The waves of pleasure were growing in intensity when you suddenly felt the loss of his warmth against your chest. You let loose a small groan of disappointment from the loss.

“Shh, darling…”

Tom slid his hand down your stomach, fingertips grazing over your skin, leaving goosebumps. His fingers teased around your entrance, feeling the wetness that had been pooling there for the last several minutes.

“So wet,” he growled at you, “and I am just getting started.”

He smirked as he inserted his finger into your pussy. His long finger hitting that spot you can never quite reach. You gasped out loud at the sensation.

“Oh..God..yes!”

Your moaning and pleading only spurred on Tom. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling his finger with every stroke. He added a second finger and sped up, thrusting inside of you, your climax coming closer with each thrust. Your breath became more and more ragged as you felt the coil tightening inside of you, threatening to explode at any moment.

Tom, sensing you were close, maneuvered his thumb to your clit, making circles.

“Come on, cum for me,” he begged.

Placing a bit more pressure on your clit and your g-spot inside you, you came undone.

“FUCK…ME… TOM… OH…GOD!”

As you orgasmed, Tom continued to pump inside of you, your pussy clenching against his fingers. When you came down from the high, he removed his fingers and leaned up to kiss you.

Taking this opportunity for a little payback, you palmed his cock through his pants. His erection straining against the trouser material. Tom moaned against your mouth. He moved his hands to his waistband. Quickly, he undid his belt while you worked the zipper and button. He discarded his pants and boxers in one swift motion, dropping them to the floor.

His cock was fully erect. You playfully shoved Tom’s shoulder to flip the both of you over. Once Tom had settled his head on the pillows, you lined up your entrance with his cock and lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh my God, darling, you feel so fucking good,” Tom cursed at the sensation of you around his cock.

You waited a moment to adjust to the fullness of Tom inside of you. Tom bucked his hips to urge you to start moving. You started to move up and down on his dick. Tom placed his hands on your hips to help guide you up and down.

Soon, the two of you found a rhythm with your hips bucking back and forth in sync, allowing Tom to hit the sensitive spots inside of you. Tom’s groans and moans grew louder and more insistent.

Your breathing sped up and Tom’s became more and more ragged. You could feel the coil inside of you once again tightening. You wanted the delicious sensations to last forever. However, Tom’s actions were more and more insistent.

His thrusting was becoming more and more erratic, desperate even. He gripped your hips tightly and although you were pretty sure he would leave bruises, you didn’t care. His head dropped back and with his eyes closed, he gasped for air.

“Come on, love.. Come on.. Cum for you.. God you, feel so good.”

“Tom, your cock feels amazing inside of me. Cum inside of me. Oh..God.”

Your head fell backwards at the overload of sensation. Tom released one of your hips and his fingers found your clit and he began rubbing it with an urgency. The pleasure was building and building. You leaned forward to feel even more friction between you and Tom’s fingers.

“Cum for me,” Tom whispered as he sped up his rubbing of your clitoris and thrusted hard and faster into your pussy.

After about the second thrust, you achieved sweet release. You let loose a loud and guttural moan as you clenched and spasmed around Tom’s dick. Tom’s face clenched as he continued to thrust into you and a few thrusts later, he came inside of you. You could feel his cum filling inside of you as you continued to ride the high of your orgasm and Tom riding his.

You both started to relax and you turned to collapse beside Tom on the bed. You were both sweaty and panting for the exertion. Tom’s face was wearing a smile that was one part ecstasy and one part exhaustion.

You started to get drowsy when a sudden realization hit you and you shot straight up in a panic.

“Oh shit, Tom. We didn’t use any protection!”

Tom’s brow furrowed as he looked at your worried and panic stricken face before he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek.

“I guess we got caught up in the moment and passion,” he reassured you, “but I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Oh course, I’m worried, why should I not worry? A baby is serious. Serious couples have babies! This was our first time having sex. What if we don’t work out!?”

Tom couldn’t help himself from chuckling. You were unamused.

“What is so funny?”

Tom leaned in and kissed your furrowed brow before whispering into your ear.

“I have no intention of ever letting you go.”

You leaned back, shocked, searching his face for clues as to whether he was screwing with you.

“Be serious.”

“I am being serious, darling. I was, of course, infatuated with you the moment we met. I couldn’t wait to get to know that gorgeous girl from craft services better.”

You felt the blood rush to your face. Tom had never spoken this frank about your relationship.

“But when Luke told me of your plan to seduce me tonight, well…I knew I was completely smitten.”

Your mouth fell open.

“Luke told you?!”

You plotted Luke’s death when Tom interceded

“To be fair I threaten him severely.”

“You were going to beat him up?”

“Worse… post something really scandalous on Twitter and watch the fans go crazy.”

You both laughed.

Tom continued, snuggling up close to you.

“Anyone who was willing to go through all that trouble just to get into my pants had to be worth it. And when you sung that truly terrible song and danced with such abandon. Well, there was no going back for me.”

Tom kissed your lips sweetly and you returned it. Softly, you opened your mouth and Tom’s tongue entered your mouth, exploring.

You let out a small sigh and you two parted.

Tom got up and headed towards the bathroom. You leaned up on your elbows, quite enjoying the view of Tom walking to the bathroom. You saw the light click on and the water turn and you laid back down on the pillows, still trying to process what had transpired, when Tom popped his head out the door.

“Are you coming? There is plenty of room in this shower for two.”

He gave a smile and a wink as you bounded off the bed and headed to the bathroom to join him. Tom looked your naked body up and down as though this was the first time seeing you.

“I could definitely get used to seeing this every day,” he snickered as he grabbed you by the hips to pull you into the room.

“Oh shut up, you,” you retorted as you playfully swatted his butt. You went up on your toes to give him a kiss as he pulled you into the now steaming shower.

“I could get used to this too.” you said between kisses.

***

Approximately 9 months later….

Tom was gripping your hand or most accurately, you were gripping his. Like a vise. He thought he had heard a bone crack but none of that mattered right now.

“Come on, darling….Come on, you can do it!”

Sweat was collecting on both you and Tom’s forehead. The overhead lights made everything look more harsh and you felt you were being torn in two. The only comfort to you was Tom’s soft blue eyes looking at you with worry and love.

“Okay, Mrs. Hiddleston, I am going to need you to give me one more big push, “ the doctor instructed from the end of bed, “Dad, keep her focused, the baby is almost here.”

Tom swallowed hard. Although he knew this was going be happening, he was never quite prepared for the actual day. He didn’t want to panic you but, inside he was freaking out.

“Darling, we have to give one more big push and then he will be here.”

You were exhausted, this labor had been going for hours.

“I don’t think you can, Tom. I am so tired.”

“Of course you can. You are the strongest person I know. And I have met Iron Man and the Hulk.”

That comment caused you give a small chuckle. Tom continued.

“The night little William here was conceived, I fell utterly in love with you and again at our wedding.”

“It was a beautiful wedding,” you added, feeling a contraction coming on.

“It was. And now, I love you even more than I thought possible. And I will love our son just as much, so let’s meet him.”

Tom’s blue eyes were watering as they stared down at your tired and wracked body. As your stomach tightened with another contraction, you mustered all your strength to give one final push.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

You could hear Tom softly counting down next to you as you squeezed his hand harder than ever while pushing with all your might. He winced slightly. His counting was erupted somewhere between four and three by the scream of a baby.

“Congratulations,” doctor stood up with your son in his hands, “it’s a boy.”

You laid back on hospital pillow. Tom smoothed your sweat soaked hair back off your forehead and placed a small kiss on your head.

“You did it. He’s here.”

“Indeed he is,” the nurse responded as she handed your son to you with a beaming smile.

A few tears have rolled down Tom’s cheek but that smile of his was firmly planted on his face.

“He is perfect,” he said, touching the tiny hands with one finger.

“He is. Hello, William David, I’m mom and this is your dad.”

The nurse rolled the bassinet next to your bed and then both her and the doctor left the room, shutting the door behind them.

You scooted over in the tiny hospital bed as Tom climbed in next to you. He softly stroked the peach fuzz hair on the baby’s head.

“He looks like you,” you commented as you look up at your husband.

Tom smiled, “No, love, he may have my eyes but that is definitely your nose and chin.”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as he is ours.”

As if on cue, William started to cry. You shushed him and started to rock him. You looked up at Tom.

“Perhaps we should sing to him?”

“As long as it isn’t the Divinyls, we should be fine.”

You both laughed through the exhaustion and then you started singing a proper lullaby, wondering how you ended up with everything you ever wanted. Tom seemed to be able to read your mind.

“I don’t know I how I got so lucky get you as my wife.”

You smiled and William drifted off to sleep, so you placed him in the bassinet and rolled onto your side. Tom snuggled up to your side, the big spoon to your little spoon. Arms tenderly draped over your waist and the two of you drifted off to sleep as well, knowing full well in a few hours you would be up with the baby.

And the two of you could not wait for this new adventure.

[saphirered]

Hi I was wondering if you would write an Essek x reader (gender neutral) where they are having a relaxing day out and the reader teaches Essek to make flower crowns, and it just allot of fluff and wholesome stuff.

Here you go! Enjoy. I really needed this type of wholesomeness. Thank you for the request. 😘

Seated among the plants and flowers at the base of the tree inside the Xhorhaus, you’re focussing on your surroundings, eyes closed. A meditation-like state keeps you grounded and aware of all around you regardless of lack of visual. Every breath you take makes you feel much lighter, floating in your own consciousness. It’s a comfortable and familiar feeling.

It could have been minutes, or hours. You’re not entirely sure but at least you know if someone needs you or you’ll be going somewhere, your friends will come get you. For now you were blessed with a moment of peace, away from the troubles of the world outside, shielded by the colourful flowers, fresh smell of herbs and the soft glow of the fairy lights.

But your peace and quiet was interrupted. Usually you’re very much aware of footsteps approaching, but when the individual doesn’t walk, taking care to avoid the greens, you’re left a oblivious to the presence. The clearing of a throat makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“My apologies. I don’t mean to interrupt you…” You see the sheepish expression of the white haired wizard floating at a comfortable distance, turn apologetic.

“Essek!” You breathe trying to calm your pounding heart, hand to your chest.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I should have announced my presence.” The mixture of embarrassment and regret remain present in both his behaviour and voice as you get up and give him a once over.

“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect any visitors.” You smile assuring him no harm was done as you get to your feet brushing off your trousers. Essek is a hard to read individual but even the most oblivious of people could tell something is off. Strange. You tilt your head pressing your lips together.

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit out of it if I’m honest.” Essek’s eyes fall to the floor in front of him trying to find the correct words to answer your question; unusual for someone usually so quick with words. You take a few steps closer to him and take his hand in yours giving it a squeeze letting him know you’re there as you wait for his reply.

“I… I am unsure how to phrase this correctly nor in an appropriate way.” He speaks caught in his own mind still. His eyes are searching still focussed on the ground and your entwined hands. You place your free hand on his shoulder, the gesture pulling him out of his head and instead focus on you.

“Try me.”

“I-. This day- These last few… weeks, have been absolute chaos. With everything going on I have not had a moment of peace in a long time.” Essek’s shoulders drop and his feet touch the ground with a soft tap muted by the mossy floor. You pity him. So young and so much pressure, people depending on him. No one should have to deal with all of that alone.

“I’ve always found diving into my work head first ignoring the world contained the chaos and turned it into order instead, something I could control but now I cannot even read a single sentence, transcribe a single equation or confront a single person without feeling like my mind is about to explode.” A weight lifts by the mere vocalising of the words, tension dropping from Essek’s physique as it does from his mind.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. For some reason, you always have an air of calmness, around you. Whenever we are in the same space, you radiate peace. It’s strange to admit but I think even only spending but moments in your presence now has done more than any and everything I have tried to achieve even a semblance of rest.” You’re not used to Essek being so open and upfront with anyone but you’re glad for it. Knowing you can confide in someone and trust them is one thing. Actually doing so, something else entirely.

“Thank you for your time and once more my sincere apologies for scaring you. I will leave you to your business once more.” Essek is about to pull his hand from yours taking a step back but you don’t let go and step with.

“When’s the last time you’ve taken a break, Shadowhand?” You’re sure you already know the answer or have enough of an idea to estimate but you ask nonetheless. Essek thinks for a moment and frowns.

“I can’t recall.”

“There’s your problem then. You’re stressed, overworked and in desperate need of a break. Come on. I have an idea.” You lightly tug at his hand pulling him along to the base of the tree and sit him down. You take one of the garden scissors and begin cutting some flowers, branches and other things and collect them in a wicker basket as Essek watches you move from planter to planter and pots making sure to leave enough behind and take only what the plants themselves allow you to take.

It might seem a little strange to some, as you’re standing there, a nonverbal conversation with plant life. Some might think you’re crazy but you only acknowledge life in all forms and while you surely could wave your hand and restore what you took, there’s beauty in the natural order of things as your Firbolg friend might agree.

Essek watches you go in awe, studying your every action with an admiration. Before, as he admitted, there had been the radiating calmness from you that could affect those around you but watching you interact, for the lack of a better word, with the greenery, gave that a whole new meaning. Serenity. You are serenity itself.

You take the wicker basket, now filled with flowers of every colour, branches of green and brown of varying lengths, set it down at the base of the tree taking a seat next to Essek.

“What’s this for?” Essek picks up a yellow flower spinning it between his fingers.

“This,” You refer to the basket and the flower held between his fingers. “is how I clear my mind when the pressure of the world becomes too much to handle.” You take a couple of the branches, check the lengths and start twisting and weaving them together adding flowers into the coil as you go.

“This is how you keep the chaos at bay?” Essek questions watching your fingers work braiding together the delicate material.

“People often assume peace is the absence of chaos but it’s not. Nor is order. If you build a dam the pressure of the water will continue building as long as the water flows. You can’t stop it. You can’t prevent it. You can however shape it in such ways you gain more from it than it from you. It can be found in the simplest of things.” You weave in some deep red roses, your pride as the Xhorassian environment is not kind enough for them to survive.

“Whenever the world comes crashing down and I wish the ground would swallow me whole I find a place to sit down and let myself be consumed by my surroundings. Sometimes I just sit doing nothing at all. Other times I draw, or sing or write, and when I’m lucky enough to find just the right place, I’ll make as many of these as it takes me to return to my peace.” You come to the end twisting the final branches to complete the final circle shape, inspecting your work and adjusting as necessary until you deem it truly completed.

“Whenever I use the chaos to create, little by little serenity comes along and I try to bring that feeling along, passing it on to those around me, because gods know, they can use it.” The both of you smile and with a last adjustment of a flower you place the flower crown on Essek’s head.

Confusion, happiness, delight, peace. All emotions running through Essek’s brain throughout this conversation enhanced the moment you place the ornament of braided and woven flowers onto his head, as light as a feather. Who knew something so small and… insignificant could mean so much, do so much?

“Why don’t you try it for yourself? See if this works for you? Or perhaps if not, it might give you inspiration to find something that will.” Essek nods taking the red crown off his head and inspecting it closer. While he certainly has an eye for intricate patterns and structures the construction of such a thing as a simple flower crown goes far beyond him and instead just leaves him completely oblivious and confused.

Seeing Essek trying to figure out the collective of braided flowers and branches might have been one of the funniest things you’ve seen from the man. The intricacies of Dunamis and the most difficult of equations or studies prove next to no problem for the wizard, but a flower crown manages to break him? How could that not be funny. You laugh even though you tried to fight it and Essek sends you a playful glare.

“Since you seem to find this so funny perhaps I should teach you the many complexities of advanced Dunamis? As a thank you of course.” You can see the hints of a smile.

“However much I’d love that, for the sake of both of our peace and sanities, I’d hold off on that for now. We’ll start with something much simpler. Like a daisy chain.” You begin pulling out a pile of white flowers and putting them next to the basket.

“This is how you start…” You begin explaining how to loop the stem of the flower around the one that came before it, the closer together, the denser the chain will become.

While Essek struggles at first, your explanation and guiding hands and pointers as he works result in a decent looking daisy chain. You slowly work your way up to more difficult flowers and eventually the branches, spending the next several hours going through the motions, Essek’s troubles long since forgotten. This may have been the first time but won’t be the last time both of you find your serenity and comfort in colourful soft petals.

[merryfortune]

An Apology to the Lavender Tea Shop

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt 82: Lavender

Ship: Daruizen/Nodoka

Fandom: Healin’ Good PreCure

Word Count: 1,725

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Post Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, human!Daruizen

   Daruizen was beginning to suspect that he and Nodoka had vastly different ideas of what constituted a date.

   Daruizen was content to take her out to all the back paddocks, find a nice shady tree and spend some time together doing nothing. Ah, nothing. There was nothing better than doing nothing. Except maybe doing nothing with Nodoka. It was… what’s the word she liked to use? Refreshing, yes, refreshing. To just lay in the grass, feel the wind on their faces, talk about nothing of importance. That’s what Daruizen thought a date was.

   Nodoka, however, had a different idea.

   Nodoka liked to do things. There was nothing worse than doing things - even if they were with Nodoka. She enjoyed going clothes shopping and going to the mall as a date. Dragging Daruizen into every oversized closet that she spotted, making him try to choose between the dresses that she liked, wearing them for both their amusements, supposedly, more hers than his and force Daruizen to give opinions whatever the difference between cerise and puce was. It was far too restless and busy to be a date, in Daruizen’s opinion.

   However, Daruizen would much prefer that over what Nodoka had planned for this date. Daruizen would remember seeing something so ugly, anyone would.

   “Isn’t it cute?” Nodoka prompted him and with a careful glance to his side, Daruizen could see stars in Nodoka’s eyes.

   “No.” Daruizen bluntly replied - and to the doll in question’s face. “You have bad taste.”

   The doll was onion shaped, mostly purple on top with a green bottom. It had a face which was heavily made up, implying excessive make-up such as mascara and lipstick. It sat, prouder than it should, in a glass box embedded in the fence, next to the gate, that threaded around the property of the teahouse it belonged to.

   “I don’t think you should be questioning my taste given that I’m seeing you.” Nodoka scolded him.

   Daruizen shrugged, “Well, you do have bad taste. Especially for seeing me.” he self-deprecated.

   “Well, I think you are plenty cute.” Nodoka asserted.

   That’s half the problem, Daruizen thought to himself but he didn’t say it out loud. They were talking in circles. But then Nodoka’s eyes lit up and she giggled to herself. Daruizen rolled his eyes. He had no doubt that she was about to cue up a very bad joke.

   “And I think you should find this doll plenty cute, too,” Nodoka added, “because you are Daruizen and it is a Daruma.”

   Daruizen rolled his eyes but the muscles in his lips were beyond his control apparently as he did smile. Just a little bit. Nodoka continued to perk up, entirely too proud of her humour which was even worse than her taste in aesthetics, apparently.

   “C’mon, let’s go inside, already. I’m getting thirsty standing out in the sun.” Nodoka said. The back of her head felt very shiny with the warmth of the sun that it was absorbing.

   “Okay, whatever.” Daruizen relented.

   “Yay!” Nodoka smiled.

   She grabbed Daruizen’s hand and tugged him along inside the garden that was on the other side of the fence and encircled the actual location of their date. Nodoka had a skip in her step and Daruizen bobbed along behind her, stumbling over the stone path as she led him along. They went up the steps and Nodoka pushed open the glass door. Above her, bells tinkled to announce their arrival and Daruizen, who preferred to be anonymous, was a little bit embarrassed by that.

   He scanned his surroundings. It was quiet it despite it being mid-morning so he felt vaguely consoled that he and Nodoka would have this place to themselves but there was something about this place. About how the sunlight filtered in from the big, fanciful windows and even in the smell of the air: fruity, milky, even sweet. There was something vaguely familiar about the floral decorations here and the rich coloured wooden floorboards. Daruizen recognised most if not all of it. Thus his budding realisation finally bloomed. He had been here once before. Then the owner of the establishment appeared before him and Nodoka and realisation became certainty.

   “Nodoka!” this man exclaimed, smiling widely. “It is so good to see you again, my sweet!”

   “Mikio!” Nodoka greeted him back excitedly. “It’s always my pleasure to come around. I’ve brought a friend this time.”

   Nodoka put a funny accent on how she spoke the word ‘friend’ to make it seem otherwise. She even cuddled up to Daruizen as she said it, tugging his arm along and coiling his arm into a very possessive, very girlfriend-y embrace that made Daruizen frown. Frown and blush.

   Mikio smiled knowingly, he nodded his head with a sage demeanour, “A friend of Nodoka’s is always welcome here.”

   Nodoka’s expression faltered, “About that, Mikio…” She looked pleadingly at Daruizen.

   Mikio blinked, a little bit confused and Daruizen growled to himself. This was the part of the date that he hadn’t been looking forward to. Otherwise, compared to Nodoka’s hectic shopping dates that had them running around all over the place and through overcrowded buildings, this would have been perfectly peaceful. To just lounge around a cafe, eating and drinking, that was perfectly acceptable to the hedonistic Daruizen but he wasn’t just hedonistic. He was egotistical and even though his pride as a Byougen General was already incredibly busted to due to his current circumstances as a human, or humanlike, Daruizen adhered to Nodoka’s prompting. And so, he bowed his head to Mikio, even if it was only a couple of degrees forward.

   “We’ve met before, sir,” Daruizen said through gritted teeth, “and I would like to apologise for how I behaved and acted back then. I hurt you and your shop. I’m sorry.” He was practically spitting as he spoke but it made Nodoka happy.

   Mikio was still quite stunned but then he realised. He made an odd noise but then smiled. It appeared that he had cottoned on to what Daruizen - and Nodoka - were implying. After all, the Pretty Cures and their not so secret identities were open secrets in the town but the enemies that they had vanquished. That was a bit more tenuous with a lot of questions so it was good that Mikio was clever enough on the uptake.

   “I believe in fresh starts, young man,” Mikio told him, “I accept your apology.”

   “Thanks.” Daruizen muttered as he pulled himself back up.

   Mikio continued to beam kindly, “But that’s enough gum flapping, don’t you think?” he asked. “Why don’t I seat you two and bring over some menus?” he suggested.

   “Fwow, that sounds wonderful.” Nodoka agreed.

   Daruizen didn’t have much to say to that but at least Nodoka had released him from her grip. That was quite relieving. So, he and Nodoka trailed after Mikio who gave them a seat by the window that got entirely too much sunlight in Daruizen’s opinion but it did have a splendid view. He took after Nodoka in that regard. He liked the look of plants more now than he did before, how they basked so peacefully regardless of rain or shine. He would be content enough to trade himself between staring at it and at Nodoka.

   They sat down together and looked over the menu. It had a lot of writing on it and looked quite pretty laminated as it was with pressed flowers adorning it, too. Daruizen let Nodoka order whatever she wanted for them both. So, they ended up with a pot of the signature lavender tea as well as a slice of the devil’s chocolate cake for Daruizen and vanilla angel cake for Nodoka. 

   Both cakes, when they arrived, looked normal enough, per the box mixes that Nodoka’s parents used, but they were both flourished with flower petals which Daruizen found odd. He didn’t think they were edible and yet, Nodoka was heartily tucking into her angel cake - and enjoying it tremendously per the blissed out look on her face. A look which Daruizen had to admit, was very cute. So, not wanting to be left behind by the rapid pace that Nodoka was eating at, Daruizen had a few spoonfuls of his chocolate cake too - and he didn’t even avoid the flower petals. Although, they did crinkle oddly and sugarily on his tongue compared to how thick and moist the case was. Still, it wasn’t bad.

   It was just that pot of tea that Daruizen eyed even more dubiously than the flower petals on his cake. It did not smell even remotely drinkable to Daruizen. He watched with some horror as Nodoka drank it very delicately and with a soothed smile on her face. However, she did notice Daruizen’s hesitance.

   “Please,” she begged him, “just a sip. It's Mikio’s specialty after all.”

   “Ugh, fine.” Daruizen said but not before topping up his glass with the complementary ice water from the table, just in case he had to wash the horrible taste out.

   Nodoka, meanwhile, poured out the tea for Daruizen. She loved the lavender laden smell of it and was gentle with the teacup as she nudged it closer to him. Daruizen, however, had no grace as he picked it up and sampled it with a very haphazard bottom’s up approach.

   And yet, for all his predisposed grouching, Daruizen reacted quite reasonably to the tea. It was warm on his tongue in a way that soup was not warm, it was lighter and infinitely more floral but it didn’t taste bad. He drank a little bit more quite willingly and his expression lightened to Nodoka’s utter delight.

   “Do you like it?” she asked.

   “I, um, do.” Daruizen said, getting embarrassed that he was being so juvenile about liking some niche flavour of tea.

   “That’s good.” Nodoka smiled. “After our morning tea settles, do you want to go out and explore the garden? Everything from the tea leaves to the added flavours are all grown here after all. Isn’t that fascinating?”

   “Er yeah…” Daruizen agreed and he smiled a very small smile. “I would like that.”

   Nodoka smiled brilliantly upon hearing that Daruizen liked that even more than the idea of wandering the garden or even the taste of his chocolate cake and especially more than the lavender flavoured tea, even if it was quite delicious despite his initial reservations.

[indraste-darktalon]

Things That Don’t Belong on Paper 1

She may like writing letters, regardless of whether or not she sends them, but there are days when even Indy tries to keep things off the page.

----

Indy was regretting unbraiding her hair. It was something she had to do sometimes, to wash it, or brush it out and keep it healthy, but now she was trying to sleep and it was fighting with the sheets. She stared up at the ceiling (weird) above her and shifted a leg, feeling the cloth of the bedding slide along her skin (also weird). And then under her left shoulder, a good chunk of hair got caught, because that was what her hair did when it was loose. She sat up and began coiling it around her hand, gathering it up to be restrained once again. Maybe if that felt normal, she’d be able to finally sleep. It was a nice lie, and she closed her eyes and lived it for a moment as she ran her nails through her hair, pulling it back, and began to braid it again. What had she been thinking, trying to sleep with all this loose? If not the shoulder, it would have gotten caught under her knees when she rolled over. So she braided, and tried not to let her mind wander.

It didn’t work.

I should have kissed her. The thought, which had been bouncing around in her mind ever since she’d said goodbye to Blix at the edge of the lake at Mt. Hyjal, surfaced again, and she bit her lip hard to try to banish it away. Instead, Indy’s mind flashed back to the moment when she had traced her thumb along Blix’s lip, and the way she’d flushed in response. That. That would have been a good moment.

Right? Because what a picnic. A perfect choice of venue (even though someday Indy was going to have to actually go back into town instead of just hover at the outskirts of her birthplace), and the food had been amazing. Indy had spent a decent amount of time trying to get the name “Toby” crammed into her head, so that if she ever met the chef, she’d remember to thank them for the wonderful food. She was going to have to go and seek out those recipes herself, at this rate, because the frustration of meeting a dish and not knowing how to replicate it was… new, in a way. But that’s what happened when you fucked off into the wilderness for over a decade and the world kept on turning without you.

I should have kissed her. When she’d run her thumb along Blix’s lower lip, the other woman had tilted her head to kiss her palm in return. And Night, that had felt so warm, and so lovely, even though she had been so uncertain of herself in that moment, because it was new.

It had been a long time since she had considered herself good with new situations.

But then again… maybe she should trust that her instincts to wait had been correct. Her fingers twisted and wrapped her hair, requiring very little active attention, as she continued her braid and stared off into the darkness of the bedroom. She hadn’t mentioned the March since coming back, and yet it had felt good to tell Blix a little bit about the people that she still missed, even after so long. There were other ways to be close besides simple physicality, which Indy hadn’t really let herself remember for a very long time. There were days when it was a curse to be known. Today, though... had not been one of those days.

What had Blix said? Something along the lines that “strangers are easy.” She was right, that in a crowd of people Indy didn’t know, it was simple to invent someone to be for a night. That’s how she’d gotten through every work shift so far, despite the nervousness, and it had worked incredibly well.

Well. That, and booze. But that’s how she got through most things these days.

None of this changed the fact that Indy had still really, really wanted to kiss Blix. But there would be time for that, right? And considering that neither of them had quite been ready for the meddling cat druid that called them out on their mutual attraction, it was probably good to have waited. They both had lost someone important, and no matter how nice a kiss would be, timing really was everything. She might not be the caliber of healer she used to, but she still remembered that much.

Indy tied off her braid, fell back against the bed, and then spent a moment vindictively kicking the sheets away. The noise made Asha, asleep on a tree she’d potted nearby, hum crankily and turn away, and Indy stifled a laugh for the sake of her friend.

“All right, all right. I’ll go to bed.”

And she did, though she had to turn into a cat and circle up against the pillow to make the bed feel right enough to sleep in. She was going to have to clean feathers off the sheets in the morning, but… at least this way she would sleep. And it was getting easier to be inside, slowly, as the weeks passed on. Indy still preferred camping, but… she was going to have to come back to being a person someday. And at this rate, it seemed like it would be happening sooner, rather than later.

**** 2 ****

Indy lay in bed again, staring up at the roof as always, sheets already kicked to the end of the bed. It was very clear to her that thanks to the drink she’d had Caythaes make for her at the Menagerie, that she was never going to sleep again. Which left her in the company of a drowsy Dragonkin, and her thoughts, both of which were slightly cranky. The windows were open; it was raining, and the air smelled delicious and felt perfect against her skin. She was happy with the window, and annoyed by the ceiling above her. It had no new answers. And it wasn't going to, no matter how hard she stared.

I should have kissed her.

"No, idiot. You wanted to. Get it right." And of course she did. Blix was lovely, and funny, and easy to be around. Indy pushed her braid over her shoulder and curled around her pillow. In a way, it was a marvel that she was this worked up about a kiss. As telling as it was to admit to herself, though, if she liked Blix less, she wouldn’t be nervous at all, so at least it was an excellent sign. Slightly pathetic, but excellent!

It had been a good day, even without a kiss. She’d had chocolate for the first time in a couple of decades, bought makeup (absolutely baffling), and gotten to introduce Blix to people she liked, as well as seeing her coworkers outside of work. The meddling druid had not been a welcome addition to the night that Blix had needed healing, but the club’s photographer joining them tonight had been excellent. Celeste was one of Indy’s favorite coworkers. She liked them all, but Celeste had yet to make her so nervous that feathers appeared in her hair.

And, Indy had barely had any problems being in the crowd, for the entire evening.

She opened her eyes and looked sideways to the end table, where a mirror now sat. That was going to be interesting to get used to. Indy liked writing letters. But being able to speak directly meant that if Blix needed healing again, it was far more likely that she’d get the message quickly. Which meant less suffering. It had been sheer luck that Indy had been near a mailbox for the last injury.

Of course, it also meant that she could activate it and ask her if she wanted to meet up again. Whenever she wanted, even. Not right now, because with any luck Blix was asleep. But it was an option now. After all, it would be rude to not use such a wonderful gift.

Indy closed her eyes again and let one ear perk toward the sounds of rain coming in from the window, willing it to lull her. She’d test the mirror out tomorrow. Ask if Blix had found anything extra in her shopping bag, to see if her present had been received. (At least that, she wasn’t nervous about; enchanted flasks were a specialty of hers at this point.) That, and maybe invite her out somewhere Indy would be comfortable encouraging a bit of snuggling. Maybe no kiss just yet, but that didn’t change the fact that Blix gave excellent hugs. 

And, well. Indy didn’t have to be a healer to know that she was incredibly touch-starved after so long alone. Her family, back when they were all together, had relayed affection through squeezes, hugs, and the like, and she’d brought that out into the world with her when she’d been recruited. Surely it was still in there, somewhere. Andy didn’t even remember their upbringing, and he still thrived on touch. Some things were the core of a person, no matter what else changed around them. And if that were the case, there was hope for her yet.

Asha, ever the emotion sponge, began humming softly from her tree in the corner, and soon Indy felt sleep finally creeping in.

[kangaracha]

Wyatt and Addison story? Whatever you can think of? Love your writing

Wyatt’s never felt more alive.

It’s not just the stone lying hot against his chest, revived by the moonstone. It’s not the power that flows like liquid fire through his veins, so strong that it takes his breath away every time he reaches for it. It’s not the pounding in his chest, the rush of the cold air on his skin, the coil and spring of his muscles as he runs faster than he has in his entire life, the trees blurring around him.

It might be the flash of white up ahead, that he is chasing, a ghost he can’t quite yet let himself believe is real. It might be his answered prayers, his dreams become real, the pure joy he feels even as he struggles to keep up with her, to stop her from disappearing into the wild from where she might never return.

The thrill of fear down his spine pushes away any doubts he might have about the sureness of his feet. He flies through the trees, faster than he’s ever been, faster than he knew a wolf could go, all the way to the cliffs.

When he slides to a stop in the mud, legs aching and heart leaping like a rabbit’s, he’s met with empty rocks, the roar of the sea and the heavy clouds in the overcast sky. He stops, his hands in his pockets, his moonstone glowing the brightest blue he’s ever seen as it bolsters his breath, and he wonders how he could have lost her, when he’d been so sure he was on her tail.

“I’m faster than you,” she says behind him, and he whips around to find her staring at him with eyes that shine like the river catching the early morning sun, filled with light and life.

He shrugs. “I’m just not used to...having a fully charged moonstone,” he explains as she joins him in the centre of the clearing. You’re always staring at her, Wanda had said to him last night, frustrated that he wouldn’t come out and chase the pups around the stones at the front of the den, and he’s starting to realise that she’s right. He can’t look away though, not even when he tries. He’s been looking for her for his whole life; now that he’s found her, he wants to be sure he’ll remember everything about her if she turns out just to be a dream.

It’s not just that, though. It’s the way she smiles, honest and bright, every time, warm enough to light up the coldest of rooms. It’s her quiet confidence, her dedication to becoming part of their pack. It’s how she’s sweet, and kind, and funny, how everything she does is to help someone else. And yet she’s strong, like Willa, she’s a leader just as much as his sister is, but she’s soft like him, and she sees things no-one else can see, she’s always one step ahead…

“How do they work?” she asks, lifting her moonstone so that she can study it, her eyes narrowed like if she stares at it hard enough, it might tell her all its secrets.

She looks right through you, he tells himself even though he can’t find a way to look away, and suddenly he is aware again of the heavy sky and the howling wind, and the angry rumble of the waves that beat against the rocks below them.

“I don’t know how they work,” he tells her honestly and kicks at the grass. She hums and then she steps away, her feet restless and her mind turning over and over at the mystery of it all.

“It’s just so...strange,” she says as she circles around him, always moving, the will of the moonstone lodged deep in her chest. We’re the call to the wild, he’d told her the first night she’d spent in the den, and she hadn’t understood at the time, too human to feel the tug to the mountains and all of the world’s unknown places. He thinks she understands it now that she can feel it, now that it has pulled her from her home and delivered her to his pack, to learn. To stay.

“I can feel it...inside me.” She taps a finger against her chest, frowning more at the trees than she does at him. “Making me stronger, helping me-”

“I know,” he says, as she struggles to find the words to explain it. “That’s normal. That’s what makes us wolves.”

“But why?” she insists, always thinking, always craving more, more, more. “How do they give you - us - power? How does it know when I’m scared, or tired, or going into a fight? Why do we have to recharge them - why does a werewolf die without one?” 

She wanders within his grasp as she reaches the crescendo of her tirade, the peak of her frustration with how much of their culture has been lost to time (to humans, he always thinks, but he never says it). He reaches out and catches her by the arm, drawing her back to him, making her pause in her endless circles, both mentally and physically.

“Maybe it’s just magic,” he suggests, the answer he would give the pups if they ever thought to ask such clever questions.

She screws up her nose at him. “Am I asking too many questions?”

He smiles. “No,” he assures her. “You’re just asking questions no one knows the answer to.”

“Sorry,” she says, and tilts her head to look up at him, the bright spark of curiosity fading from her eyes. 

“No.” Unbidden, he reaches for her hand, stealing it from where it is wrapped around her moonstone in worry. “You never have to say sorry to me.”

“Don’t I?” she asks, and she tries feebly to pull away but he won’t let her go. “You don’t think I’m annoying, or that you have better things to do than follow me around all the time?”

“No!” he repeats, insistent this time, horrified that she would even suggest such things. “Why would I think you’re annoying, Addison? You’re anything but.”

She stares at him in surprise, like she’s never noticed him at her side, always watching, always there to catch her if she falls. She stares at him like she’s seeing him for the first time, like he’s been hiding in the shadows and he’s only just now stepped into the light, out here on the world’s edge with the ocean beating at their feet.

She takes a breath, her moonstone glowing bright around her neck, and then she reaches up and kisses him, the way he’s wished she would since the day she walked into the den, jittery and lost and afraid of her own strength.

The world stops...or maybe it speeds up, the waves thundering and the wind howling and her, warm in his arms, desperate as her hand slides across his cheek and around the back of his neck, drawing him to her. She’s stealing his breath, and the beat of his heart, but he doesn’t care; she can have anything she wants, if it means that he gets her, just for these few seconds of time.

The rain starts to fall as she pulls away, fat drops of water splashing onto the muddy ground, pelting the trees and the rocks and the churning water to their right. One lands on his cheek, just below his Beta marking, and she laughs as she wipes it from his skin.

“We should go home,” she says, but she doesn’t try to pull away. Her eyes don’t even turn towards the den; they’re locked to his, finally seeing him, finally still for long enough that he can see them, deep blue and full of life, of power, of exhilaration.

“We could,” he replies, as if he would entertain the idea of going back to the den for even a second. “Or we could stay out here for a while.”

She frowns at him. “Won’t the others be worried?” she asks, and he laughs.

“We’re wolves,” he reminds her patiently, a flash of yellow rippling through his eyes. “We can go anywhere we want.”

Her face lights up and, before she can stop herself, she kisses him again, soft and short but with the pull of the wild hidden behind her teeth. He’s never been more alive than right now, in the wind and the storm...and now he thinks maybe she hasn’t been either.

[mikroparadise]

Look At You And Your Beautiful, Stupid Face | KTH (M)

↠ Synopsis: When it was finally time to make plans for spring break, your bird-brained brother decided to force you to bunk up with his stupid, beautiful best friend, with his beautiful, stupid face, stupid sultry voice and deep stupid eyes. God, you hated to love him.

↠ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

↠ Word Count: 1.6k+

↠ Genre/Rating: +18; smut and some light fluff maybe?

↠ Warnings/Tags: e2l; shared bed; some pining; kim taehyung being deadly beautiful as usual; sexy touching n’ stuff, it’s all pretty soft; reader is a little bit tsundere I guess lol

↠ Masterlist

↠ Read It On AO3

↠ A/N: I got drunk the other night and wanted to see if I could actually manage to write a drabble, I think it worked lol this is unedited, and I wrote most of it totally drunk and then the rest totally sober, so I hope it doesn’t suck, and thank god for spell check or else you’d be able to tell how drunk I was lmao.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the floor?”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I’m sure. Would you like sleeping on the floor?”

“I guess you have you have a point,” you sighed, “but I also would not like to sleep in the same bed as you,” you quipped.

“Well you can blame your air-head brother for not booking enough rooms,” Taehyung huffed as he pulled back the covers and plopped into bed.

You cursed your brother Jungkook in your head. If he had just let you make the arrangements for your spring break vacation then you wouldn’t be forced to share a bed with his stupidly gorgeous asshole of a best friend, with his stupid long silver hair and his stupid light blue contacts that he always wore. God, you hated him. Well, more like you hated how attracted you were to him. It almost made you think that Jungkook did it on purpose.

“Why can’t you be a gentleman and let the lady have the room to herself?’ you said as you slipped into the bathroom to change into hopefully the most unappealing clothes possible. Thank God you managed to pack a spare pair of baggy pajamas so that you could attempt to wrap yourself up like a nun. The last thing you wanted to do was wear your normal pj’s and arouse him somehow, the thought itself was too embarrassing. You’d openly hated him so long that you hoped he’d never find out that you thought he was chiseled to perfection by the Gods themselves.

“Self-preservation, my dear,” he drawled from the bedroom, “I’d rather wake up with you spooning me than your brother.”

You blushed at his comment. Did he mean that because he really wants to cuddle with you, or because he really doesn’t want to cuddle with your brother?

“Got nothin’ to say to that, sweetheart?”

You suddenly became flustered and didn’t know how to respond, so you stuttered out “I- uh, I-I’m not gonna dignify that with a response!” You finished your attempt at ugly-fying yourself before exiting the bathroom to find Taehyung shirtless and propped up against the headboard so that you could see his stupid chest in all it’s glory. “You know you’re a cocky prick, right?” you said as you made your way to the other side of the mattress.

“What, now I’m not allowed to be comfortable either?” he smirked, “I bet you’d be more comfortable without any clothes on too.”

Now that one couldn’t have been your imagination. Was he really flirting with you right now of all times? “Is that supposed to mean something, Kim Taehyung?”

Taehyung held his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, sorry.”

“Alright, well, no funny business,” you said as you joined him under the covers before reaching up to shut the light off.

Darkness fell over the both of you and you adjusted yourself so that you were laying as far away  from Taehyung as possible without falling off the bed. You felt so torn; you wanted so desperately to press yourself up against his strong, firm chest and drift off to sleep, but also wanted to save yourself the embarrassment of having to eat your pride and admit you didn’t actually hate him.

You were laying there on the edge of the bed, filtering through your conflicting thoughts, when the bed shifted behind you, and suddenly Taehyung’s breath tickled the back of your neck.

“Y/N,” Taehyung breathed out in his deep, sultry voice, “You’re going to fall off the bed if you stay all the way over there.”

When you turned your head, Taehyung was staring down at you with half-lidded eyes, his face mere inches from yours, and you were sure that you wouldn't be able to breathe even if you were on a damn ventilator. "Yeah, well," you trailed off, at a loss for words as your mouth opened and closed uncontrollably.

"Here." Taehyung snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you toward the middle of the bed, all the while keeping eye contact with you to ensure that you die or something.

"I hate you, you know," you said, though your voice didn't seem to want to command the authority you intended to.

"Yeah, you sure look like you do," he said with a smirk.

"Fuck you."

"Only if you ask, sweetheart."

You huffed and turned away from his stupid, beautiful face, scooching just out of reach and cursing yourself for allowing him to have this effect on you.

Everything was quiet and still for a minute, when once again Taehyung’s breath was on your neck.

"Y/N, why do you hate me?"

You decided it was best not to turn around this time, in the hopes that it would help you keep up your ruse. It didn't. "I-I don't…well why do you care?"

"Because even after all these years I don't think you actually hate me," he whispered. "Tell me if I'm wrong." Taehyung pressed his body flush against your back.

You began stuttering incoherently when he cut you off. 

"Y/N, am I wrong?"

You stared forward at the wall as your heart began beating in record time. This was the moment of truth, the moment that you'd either let out your big secret or keep up the act and lose your chance forever. After a few long moments, you shook your head.

Taehyung ghosted his hand over your shoulder before pulling your baggy t-shirt out of the way and leaving soft open-mouthed kisses across your bare skin. You leaned into his touch as he made his way up to the nape of your neck and snaked both of his arms around your waist to pull you even closer to him.

This was it, what you’d always wanted deep down but never admitted to. You mewled and moaned as his hands and mouth explored your body for the first time.

“Shhh, don’t be too loud sweetheart. Don’t want to wake anyone up,” he whispered. Taehyung let one of his hands wander up to cup one of your breasts as the other crept below the hem of your sweatpants to your slick folds. He began rubbing soft circles over your clit and you threw your head back against his shoulder and tried to keep quite as best you could.

You turned your head to face him and you were met with those deep, beautiful eyes, half-lidded and burning with passion. You could drown in those eyes if he’d let you, if he told you to.

Taehyung dipped down and captured your lips in a tender kiss, gently swiping his tongue across your bottom lip to gain entry into your mouth. Your lips parted and you both sighed into the kiss as your tongues danced around each other. His hand continued to massage your breast, rolling you nipple between his fingers occasionally, and the other hand was quickly bringing you to climax as he rubbed circles over your sensitive clit.

It was getting harder to keep quiet as you felt the coil in your belly getting ready to spring free. Taehyung’s erection was straining against you and you began to grind up against him.

“Fuck,” he whined as he broke the kiss. Taehyung resumed licking and biting at the back of your neck as your orgasm came closer and closer to overtaking you.

“Tae,” you sighed out his name. You attempted to tell him you were close, but the words just didn’t want to come out.

“Fuck Y/N I wish I could hear you say my name like that all the time.” Taehyung took your earlobe into his mouth and bit down softly, rolling it in between his teeth. “Y/N,” he mewled, “Baby, I need to hear what you sound like when you cum.”

All of the breath left your lungs at his confession, and you were sure you’d never be able to catch it again after hearing him say that. You’d give him what he wanted soon, you were right on the edge, so close.

“Just one time,” he said, “I need to hear it.”

So close, just a few more strokes.

“Cum for me Y/N,” he whispered.

Pleasure rushed over you like white hot electricity, rippling through every nerve ending in your body as you cried out and moaned in ecstasy, and Taehyung’s arms tighted around you as he helped you ride through your orgasm, leaving soft kisses all over your neck and shoulders as you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you breathed out in a shiver.

Taehyung removed his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth to lick your juices off of them. “Fuck is right,” he said with a smirk, “that shit was hot.” Taehyung chuckled.

Your face heated up in embarrassment. “You’re a-an asshole,” you stuttered as you tried to wiggle away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Taehyung said in a rush as he pulled you back to him, “come back here. I’m sorry. You’re just really cute when you’re flustered.” He smiled down at you with his big boxy smile and you about melted into a puddle on the spot.

“Wait, don’t you want me to do something for you?” you asked, puzzled. After all weren’t men supposed to be selfish or something?

Taehyung shook his head. “Next time, sweetheart.”

“Next time?!” Your eyes popped out of your head in surprise at his insinuation.

Taehyung nodded his head, amused at your reaction. “Next time. Now get some sleep.” Taehyung adjusted the blanket to fit over you both nicely and nuzzled into your neck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Tae.” You were still in shock at how sweet and gentle he was with you even as you were closing your eyes. Who did he think he was anyway? Being so soft and caring? God, what an asshole.

↠ Masterlist

[hearts-hunger]

Study Break || Joe Mazzello x Reader

Summary: When your brains are finally fried from studying for exams, Joe proposes a little study break to help the two of you unwind.

Pairings: College!Joe x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, a little bit of dom!joe with a silence kink 👀

A/N: Ok babes! This one’s been in my drafts forever, and I finally finished it for my sweet socks nonnie! College!Joe is my truest love and you should definitely come scream about him with me any time your heart desires. I hope you like it!

“That’s it.”

You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, the diagrams from your biology textbook still crowding your head.

“What’s it?” you heard your boyfriend ask. You propped yourself up on your elbow to see him sitting cross-legged on the floor, his pages of noted spread out in a circle around him. He was going through a handful of flashcards, muttering to himself.

“I’m done studying,” you told him. “My brain is fried.”

He nodded but didn’t look up from his notes. “Sounds good, baby.”

You groaned and lay on your back again. “It’s the opposite of good, Joey. It’s bad. You should tell me to keep studying.”

“Keep studying,” he said.

You could tell that he wasn’t very into the conversation, which was fine; you wished you had his single-minded focus when it came to studying. You decided to shush and let him study instead of bothering him with your inability to read one more word of your textbook. You listened to the sound of his soft recitations as he flipped through his flashcards, his voice and the soft rock playlist you had on mixing to a soothing lullaby.

“I thought you were going to keep arguing with me,” Joe said after a minute.

“I didn’t want to distract you.”

You heard the rustling of papers; a second later, Joe was climbing into bed next to you. He took a deep breath as he stretched out on his side, propping his head on his hand.

“Hi,” you said.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Hi.”

“Are you finished studying?” you asked.

“Nope,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, sweet and tender. “But I like you better than studying.”

“But your exam’s tomorrow, Joe,” you reminded him.

“You doubt my mad skills?” he teased.

You laughed. “No, you’re going to do great on it.”

“Then quit fussing and let me kiss you,” he said, pressing his mouth to yours again. You sighed as he splayed his hand over your stomach.

“Are you sure you don’t want to study?” you asked when you came up for air.

He laughed. “Why? You’d rather me be buried in a textbook than up here with you?”

“No way,” you assured him. “But I feel bad for distracting you. I should be studying too, so I’m not doing either of us a favor.”

“You said your brain was fried,” he reminded you. “So studying any more wouldn’t do any good, right?”

“I guess.”

“Mmh. And everybody knows that you have to take a break every once in a while to stay productive and motivated, so that’s what I’m doing. Quick recharge, you know.”

You smirked. “Just a quick one, huh?”

He gave you a sheepish smile. “Well, maybe not that quick. But I’m good with that if you are. Is your roommate here?”

You absently ran your fingers under his jaw, something you did often in quiet moments because you knew he liked it. “I think so. Why?”

“No reason,” he said easily. “But if you don’t want to broadcast your love life to your roommate, I should probably think of something else to do with my break.”

You gave him a look. “That’s what you want to do with your break?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I mean, only if you want to. It lowers your stress, you know, and all this studying is making me really stressed.”

You gave him an affectionately exasperated look. “You’re something, you know that?”

“Something good?”

“Don’t push your luck, Mazzello.”

You could feel his smile as he kissed you, his hand going to your hip and pulling you closer to him.

“You never said about your roommate,” he said after a moment, pulling back a little to search your face. He knew you didn’t usually like to get it on when your roommate could hear you - what Joe made you say in bed was for his ears only. Tonight, though, you already felt a little blissed out from his heady kisses and his hand on you, soft and warm through your t-shirt.

“I’ll be quiet,” you said.

He raised a brow. “You think you can?”

You gave an incredulous laugh and smacked his shoulder, drawing a laugh from him.

“Joseph Mazzello,” you said. “I am not that loud.”

He smirked. “I beg to differ, sweetheart. But I don’t mind. I think it’s hot.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have a nosy roommate right next door,” you said. “But whatever, I can be quiet. She never has to know.” You felt that came out wrong and wanted to fix it. “Not that I’m hiding you or anything. I love you, and I love having sex with you.”

He laughed at that, a real, genuine guffaw. You smiled at the sound and the adorable expression on his face.

“I love having sex with you too,” he said when he’d recovered, still amused. “And I love doing everything else with you, because I love you, too. But I get it. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. Or we can go back to my dorm.”

“No, I want to,” you assured him. “And we can stay here, it’s fine, really. I can be quiet. I’ll prove it.”

“I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t go trying every trick in the book to make it hard for me.”

He grinned. “You’re right. This is technically only a study break, so I guess I can’t get too fancy. But I still think you’re not going to be as quiet as you think you are.”

“Try me,” you said tartly.

He kissed you, slowly making it deeper, his teeth catching on your bottom lip. You felt butterflies like you always did as his hand moved up your side from your hip, his touch never failing to make you feel loved and beautiful.

“Just a sports bra, huh?” he teased as his big hand roamed to your breasts. You had changed from your regular bra earlier into one that had pretty much zero support; it was comfortable to study in but still enough to make you feel like you were actually dressed. Under Joe’s skilled hand, it seemed like the flimsiest thing you owned.

“Only the best for you, Joey.”

“You sure are,” he agreed. “Every bit of you.”

You put a hand to his cheek and drew him closer to you as his hand moved down, his touch sending sparks through you.

“Are those - ?” He pulled back from you to look at your underwear, the blue and green striped revealed as he tugged at the waistband of your gym shorts. “They are!”

“What?” you asked, blushing, trying to play it cool.

He gave you an impish look. “I’m pretty sure you know those are my favorites.”

“You think I had you in mind when I was picking out what underwear to put on this morning?” you asked, as if that hadn’t been exactly what was going on in your head at the time.

He smirked. “I think I’m exactly what you had in mind,” he said. “And I think you hoped we’d have ourselves a little ‘study break’, hm?”

“So what if I did?” you asked. “Does that change your mind about it?”

“No way,” he said with feeling, kissing you deeply. You sighed against his mouth as his hand went under your waistband, his palm big enough to cover everything with his warmth. He liked to do that, you’d discovered; he’d keep his palm pressed against you for a minute, his thumb tracing over your inner thigh.

You sucked in a breath as he ran a finger over the fabric of your panties, the friction immediately making you wet. He continued to rub you through your underwear, the fabric getting more and more damp as he did.

“Tell me what feels good,” he reminded you as he kissed under your jaw, his voice low.

“Jesus, Joe, everything feels good,” you said, a little breathless as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties and started to rub circles up and down between your folds. You felt that familiar sensation in your stomach, that kind of coiling feeling that tightened little by little in response to his touch.

His fingers glanced over your clit, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a breathy moan, your hips bucking in response to his touch. He stilled and looked up at you.

You blushed. "Sorry," you said sheepishly.

He chuckled. "That's ok, sweetheart. I was just a little surprised.” He gave you a teasing smirk. “I thought you were trying to stay quiet.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, giving him a kiss. His mouth was warm and lovely against yours as he started to move his fingers again, pressing deep, slow circles against your clit.

“I love you,” he said.

You sighed into his mouth. “I love - ah - I love you too. So much.”

You let yourself relax under him, running your fingers through his hair and breathing in the smell of his cologne and Tide laundry detergent he always washed his clothes in and something uniquely him, warm and something like home. 

His fingers started to move faster, occasionally dipping down to tease at your entrance before circling your clit again. You felt your legs start to shake, your breathing get faster.

“God, Joe,” you said, trying to stay quiet. Every movement of his skilled fingers drew a breathy, high-pitched gasp from you.

He slowed again, expertly drawing you out, giving you little tastes like he was teaching you a lesson on delayed gratification. 

“Joe,” you whined.

“Shh,” he chided. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

You willed yourself to be patient; he knew even better than you did what made you feel good, and could draw out a better orgasm than you could for yourself. You had no patience when you were by yourself, but Joe always took his time, and it was always worth it.

He steadily built up his speed again and your hips rose to meet his hand; you felt the tide of your orgasm rise as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you, teasing you almost unbearably.

“Please, Joey, faster,” you managed, you voice choked and desperate.You squeeze your thighs together around his hand, needing more friction, more depth, more of him.

“You’re a little bratty, aren’t you?” he teased, cool as ever. It was almost funny to you how he could be so collected while you were coming undone under his fingers, but you couldn’t spare the breath to laugh.

“Jesus - fuck, goddammit!” you bit out, trying to keep quiet like you’d said, but you felt a shock of pleasure run all the way through your body as he pushed another finger in and pressed harder on your clit. Your breaths came quickly, each a gasping moan. He eased up on the deep circles and tried something different, brushing his thumb over your clit like he was playing that bass guitar he fooled around with sometimes. Warmth pooled between your legs and you bit your lip to keep from gasping.

It didn’t work, though, as you let out a not-so-quiet, heartfelt “holy shit.” Your hips jerked upwards as he suddenly pressed deeper against your clit again, rubbing fast circles against it and bringing your to the edge so quickly you saw stars.

“Wait wait wait,” you panted. He stopped immediately and studied your face.

“What? You want to stop? Are you ok?” he asked, each question tumbling out without waiting for an answer.

You tried to catch your breath, crumpling the fabric of his t-shirt sleeve in your fist. “Yeah, I just - Jesus, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

He gave a surprised laugh. “That’s kind of the point, honey.”

“Yeah, but - ” You shook your head, barely coherent with his hand still between your legs, feeling each heartbeat squeeze around his fingers. “It’s gonna be loud.”

Joe grinned. “I knew you couldn’t be quiet.”

“Just - ” You groaned in frustration. You were so close to your orgasm you could have cried. “Joey, what am I supposed to do?”

He bit his lip as he looked at you, and you knew that as amusing as this was for him, he also liked the idea of you trying and failing to keep quiet while he fucked you with his fingers. He put his free hand over your mouth, the movement mixing gentleness and a very enticing dominant attitude. 

“How’s that?” he said.

You nodded.

He bowed his head to nip at your breast through the fabric of your shirt, making you gasp into his hand. “Can I make you cum now?”

Again, you nodded.

He didn’t waste any time, pumping two fingers in and out of you as he rubbed circles against your clit. He did that bass-playing thing again - you’d have to come up with a better name for it, but at the moment, all you could think about was the fact that you were going to be cumming, hard, any second now. You moved your hips against his hand, urging him to go faster; he obliged you, and before you could even warn him, you were moaning sinfully loudly against his hand as your orgasm tore through you. Your moans turned into whines of pleasure as he rubbed you through your orgasm, making your vision black at the edges with the relentless waves of pleasure. You grabbed his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises as he watched you come undone, his expression full of desire and love and wonder.

“Jesus, you’re so gorgeous,” he said breathlessly. “So beautiful, baby. I love you so much.”

You gave a keening moan as his words made the physical pleasure rocking through you even more amazing, knowing how much he loved you and how lovely he thought you were. His hand over your mouth didn’t do much, though that was more your fault than his.

Actually, no it wasn’t. As he drew his hands away from you when you were finally down from your high, he gave you a cheeky smirk; this was all his fault. Your whole res hall knew you’d been well fucked by Joe Mazzello, and it was definitely his fault.

When he kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Let the whole campus know Joe could make you moan like a whore in bed; you didn’t care.

“Did I do ok?” he asked, back to his sweetly bashful smile.

You drew him down to practically lay on top of you, liking the warm crush of your bodies so close together. He laid his head on your chest and you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Passable,” you sighed.

He laughed, and you smiled at the feel of it as it rumbled through his chest. “If passable makes you sing like that, baby, I think we’ll have to be a little more careful when it’s actually good.”

“You knew I couldn’t keep quiet,” you said. “Admit it.”

“I know you, sweetheart,” he said, looking up at you. “Are you mad?”

You gave him an amusedly exasperated smile and shook your head. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Joe. Of course I’m not mad.”

He raised a brow. “Really? Best orgasm of your life?”

“You doubt your mad skills?” you teased, repeating his question from earlier.

He grinned and kissed you. “Not anymore. Thanks for taking a study break with me.”

“Anytime, baby,” you said.

He laughed. “Don’t tempt me.”

You both sat up in your bed, you wincing a little at the stickiness between your legs.

“Shower?” he asked.

“Shower,” you agreed. You tugged lightly on the collar of his Jurassic Park t-shirt. “And you’re coming with me.”

He gave you a grin as you pulled him in for a kiss. “Well, honey, I can’t argue with that.”

forever taglist: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @hazah @dashlilymark @punkgeekchic @harrisunn @stephydearestxo @luckytrashgooprebel @someone-get-a-medic @chlobo6

[everestv-themuse]

(a memory that involves romance/love)

Warning, bit of a downer ahead! I’ve had this scene in my head for so long, and have wanted to actually confront Trea’s grief in full for so long, that I kinda got a bit intimidated. Glad I finally got to it, though. There’s something so satisfying about writing angst that’s been brewing in the background for so long. So, thanks very much for the prompts! Trea Adaar x Josephine Montilyet for @dadrunkwriting​ & @hell5bell5​ / @bitchesofostwick​ & @tevivinter​.

The fireflies are glittering all around her, dipping and dancing at the direction of her fingertips. She circles with them, relishing the feeling of grass between her bare feet. She laughs when she manages to catch one, peeking through her fingertips to watch the flicker, before opening her hands in an arc to watch it fly away again. She glances at her mother a few feet away, sitting against the tree with her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. The image is jarring, she knows it is, but can’t quite figure out why.

Bringing a hand to wipe away the sweat beading on her forehead, she rushes forward. “Can we swim for a bit? Please?” She takes her mother’s hands in hers and tugs a few times.

Her mother looks up, smiles in a way that makes the edges of her vision blur, and squeezes her hands gently. “It’s getting dark, imekari. We should be heading back soon.”

“Oh, but please? Just for a little while?” Her insistent tugs bring her mother to her feet and she grins despite her determination to be pouty and convincing. “It’s just so hot and I wanted to show you my strokes! I’m so good at them! Please?”

Her mother laughs and scoops her up to sit on her shoulders. “Fine, fine, you win. But just for a little while. Are you ready?” Her mother asks as she approaches the nearby lake’s shoreline. She just claps in response and giggles.

“Yes, yes!” Warm hands grab her from under her arms before she’s being tossed into the lake, flying through the air before hitting the surface with a splash.

***

Trea wakes up with a start, the feeling of falling washing over her for the quick second it takes to jerk upright. The dream is still flooding her senses. She swears she can still smell the lake, the summer wind, the grass of the meadow. She looks down at her hands, struggling to catch her breath, blinking furiously to rid herself of the flickering that lingers across her vision. Her skin is calloused, rough and dry, but it’s the shaking she focuses on, the way her fingers look so empty, the way they feel so...

Her throat is tight and the room is starting to spin. Trying to keep her wet gasps quiet is not doing her breathing any favors. She swallows thickly and carefully pulls back the covers, moving to stand and escape out to the balcony when a hand brushes against her wrist.

“Trea?” Josephine’s sleepy voice sounds and it only tightens Trea’s chest further. “Is something wrong?”

Her feet touch the floor as she sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and dropping her head in her hands. She doesn’t trust herself to speak, just closes her eyes and tries to focus on evening out her breathing. The sheets rustle behind her and then Josephine’s hand presses to her shoulder, trails its way down, rubs gentle circles against her lower back. Trea’s breath catches and she hates herself for it, trying to cover it up with a cough rather than let the sob escape her scratchy throat.

“Please let me...I wish you would...I wish I...” Josephine struggles for words and Trea glares at the floor. She doesn’t know what to say. For once, she’s the one who can’t find the words. And it’s because of you. She deserves better. Josephine lets out a breath. “I want to fix this for you, I want to help. Even if it is only to listen, I would rather you—”

“It was just a dream,” Trea shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

Josephine presses a kiss to the top of her spine and she shivers. “A nightmare. Maybe if you tell me—”

“No, a dream.” Trea pushes off the bed. “Or...or a memory. But it couldn’t have been. It couldn’t. She would never be so...so...”

“Who?” Josephine’s voice is barely above a whisper and Trea’s fists clench.

“My mother.” Her voice wavers at the admission and she clears her throat. She starts pacing alongside the bed. “But it felt so real. It felt like it happened before, or it could have. If things hadn’t...it was just a dream. I know that. But I’ve never wanted to fall back asleep so badly. Just to...just so that we could...I just needed more time.”

Josephine presses against her in a hug from behind, pausing her pacing and holding her close. “Cálmate, cariña. Breathe.”

Trea isn’t sure when she finally lost the battle, but she can feel the tears run down her cheeks now and her every breath catch in her throat. “I woke up and it hurt. It hurt and I actually...missed her.” Trea’s voice broke into a short laugh, a scoff at the very thought. “Isn’t that funny? I missed her. Her, the woman who drove me away, the woman I could never hope to please. The first person I ever knew, the only person I had for years.

“And I don’t even know if I’m missing a real person, or fragments of a person that could have been, a collection of childish fantasies. Just stupid hopes and dreams.” Trea crosses her arms over her chest, holding tight and pressing hard. Josephine’s hands around her middle feel like feathers in comparison. “I don’t know what to think anymore, I don’t know how to make it make sense. I mean fuck, it’s been weeks since the funeral and this is the first time I’ve cried, I’m...” She lets out a breath and every nerve ending inside her buzzes at the sudden feeling of calm that washes over her senses. “She was right. I’m just a shitty excuse for a person.”

Josephine’s embrace drops away as she suddenly spins Trea around. Her gaze is hard, even as her hands brush up to gently wipe Trea’s cheeks dry. “Stop this. Don’t go there. You know that’s not true.” Trea can’t meet her gaze and her chin drops to her chest. “I know that’s not true.”

Her voice is feather-light and it makes Trea wince. All she can do is shake her head.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Josephine takes large hands in her own smaller ones and guides them both back to bed. With gentle nudges and gestures, she gets Trea to lay down and curled into her chest, bringing the blankets up around them again.

Trea can’t help but feel ridiculous, all coiled in like a child. Her knees bent up and her hands folded in close, she barely fits in the embrace of Josephine’s much smaller form. She can’t imagine what it looks like — a big, burly qunari, the Inquisitor herself, on the verge of tears once more because of a simple embrace. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“All of this is just... This will pass, my love.” Josephine says in a whisper before pressing a kiss to Trea’s forehead. “Everything will look better in the morning. Just sleep now.” She doesn’t sound convinced by her own words and Trea bites her lip. She can’t blame her.

But she opens her eyes and resolves to stay awake. She can’t afford the risk of dreaming again.

[splat-dragon]

And when when we're all together - there's nothing to fear ~This is Where I Belong, Bryan Adams

As it turned out?

 Uncle reeked something fierce.

 And she wasn't being dramatic when she said that he smelled as though he’d shat his pants before rolling around atop a rotting skunk, then eating a dinner consisting solely of a barrel of onions. And, oh, you can’t forget the booze. So add a keg of booze with that.

 He had her eyes watering and her stomach heaving.

 Unfortunately, it was because of him that she discovered that she had the sense of smell of a dog, not just the nose, although she supposed she should have known that already, but when you’re half-dead you’re rather occupied with other things, aren’t you?

 Thankfully, it seemed that she had kept her human eyesight. Normally, that would have been a very bad thing, considering that she was near-blind without her glasses, but it seemed that her eyesight was as good as it got while she wore her glasses, nowhere near a dog’s eyesight. At least, she assumed so—she’d seen those photos where people had overlaid what a dog would see, and things didn’t seem blurry or washed out, but who knows how accurate they really are?

It took her days to grow nose-blind to Uncle’s stench. Sadly, she spent a great deal of time in close-quarters to him, seeing as the shack provided the best shade on the ranch, and she wasn’t much one for baking in the heat, especially seeing as she was still recovering. So they often found themselves sitting in the shade together, watching with no small amount of amusement as John hauled rocks around in that wheelbarrow of his, laughing at his rather creative cursing on the frequent occasions that rocks fell on his foot. She’d have helped him, really, she would have, but he hadn’t asked her to, hadn’t even seemed to consider it, and what could she do besides pick up and move a single rock at a time? Even if he did manage to figure out a way to hitch her to the wheelbarrow, she didn’t think she could have hauled it, she was still so weak and fatigued from days in the sun, and while she was slowly building her strength up on the scraps from his meals and whatever Uncle tossed her way (she wasn’t dumb enough, though, to drink the beer he thought it was funny to pour into her bowl; she’s dumb, not stupid). He’d been quick to declare her his 'new favorite drinking buddy', giving her a nice thump on the back that had knocked the breath from her lungs and left her wheezing, seeming to think that she was like him, a lazy lay-about who did nothing but eat and drink all day.

Night quickly became her favorite time of day, she’d admit. While day burned with the sun, once it set the temperature dropped dramatically, and she felt as though she came to life, energy thrumming in her veins and the sluggishness of the day shed from her as though little more than fur. John had quickly discovered it, forgetting to grab his satchel before sitting down only to find her standing there holding it, and he’d nearly flipped shit when she’d initiated a game of keep-away (although he had, eventually, started to laugh after tripping over a rock and face-planting to the ground). He’d taken to amusing himself by throwing his scraps at her as he sat by the campfire and watching as she tried-and failed, badly-to catch them.

 It was pretty fun. She was too large, too bulky, to twist and jump and catch them in mid-air, but that didn’t stop her from trying. It let her test her awkward new body, try its limits and see what it could do. No matter how hard she tried she always ended up crashing to the ground on her side but, well, it was the thought that counted, right? Besides! By the end of the week she was landing on her paws almost a quarter of the time, so, progress!

 And Uncle was particularly proud of himself for ‘teaching’ her to fetch him a beer. Not that any of them were actually teaching her anything, of course. She could understand every word they said (most of the time, at least, sometimes they drawled something awful and she could only wonder if they were having a stroke, or they used a phrase or saying that had died out before her time), but watching him get frustrated trying to figure out the words would make her magically understand what he wanted was hysterically.

 His face when John had called to Uncle to ‘pass me a beer’ across the campfire, and she’d gotten up, trotted over, grabbed one and brought it to him? Even funnier. John had definitely agreed, laughing so hard he’d stopped making sound, while Uncle had looked baffled, vaguely offended, and somewhat constipated.

 She’d always been rather lazy, and probably would have told him to get it himself Before, but it benefited her, too. It was easy to forget just how strong a dog’s jaw is, how strong a dog is period! until you are one, and she needed to work on controlling her strength, on controlling her everything, really, including her fine motor skills. So getting only a single beer (a fragile glass bottle) out of a bunch and carrying it without breaking it? Surprisingly hard, but she managed to do it and considered it a job well done.

'They can smell fear just by lookin' atcha.'

  'Don't panic, they can smell fear.'

 How many times have you heard that? Maybe not those exact words, but most people are told 'they can smell fear' or 'they can sense fear' at some point in their lives. Maybe when getting on a horse, or when working with dogs, working with children or even just on TV.

 Well, which one is it? Can 'they', whatever the 'they' you're talking about is, smell fear? Or can they sense it?

 In all honesty, she’d always thought it was a saying. If you were tense, the animal would be tense, of course. But if you were afraid, how could they smell it? It just hadn’t made any sense to her.

Just over a week after she’d met John—at least, she thought so, she hadn’t quite been keeping track of the passing time but a week felt about right—something woke her from a deep sleep. There was no noise, well, that wasn’t quite right. At first the lack of car horns and voices outside had disturbed her, she had missed that white noise, but she was slowly learning to look for the Hope’s own type of white noise—the hooting of the owls, the yipping and howling of coyotes, the chattering of the bats overhead.

 At first, it didn’t seem as though there was anything that had woken her. She raised her head from her paws, ears twitching this way and that, looking around as her heart pounded in her throat. Something was wrong, and she looked, first, for Uncle, finding him slumped near the campfire, bottle of whisky still clutched in his fist; John was stretched out on top of his bed roll, hat pulled down low over his head.

 Though everything looked fine, wrong itched in her bones, thrummed in her blood, and the need to move screamed from some part of her she couldn’t name, so she stood without her normal stretching or yawning, a whine she didn’t intend to make spilling from her chest as she began to pace around the campfire—was Uncle too close to it? But, no, he was close but not that close, even if he fell straight forward he’d just flop onto the grass, and the fire hadn’t escaped its rock circle, hadn’t set the dry grass alight.

 She paced one loop, then two, around the pair, before turning her attention outwards. This wasn’t her home, wasn’t safe, where danger was only something you saw on TV, that happened only to other people. Where all you had to do was lock your doors, where you could call the police and they’d be there in a heartbeat (okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration). This was the Wild West, where danger lurked at the edge of the firelight, stalked at your heels.

 Was there something watching them? Had she felt someone’s-some thing’s-gaze on her back? A snake? A bear, even a puma? They all spawned nearby, after all, and so she stilled, squinting and staring outwards, sweeping her gaze low across the ground, the grass was tall but not tall enough to hide a puma even if it was low to the ground, trying to stalk them, much less a bear. John had been working to pick up twigs, though, for exactly this reason, and a snake would have stood out, would have started to rattle or fled at her approach, and so she turned her gaze upwards again, seeking the gleam of firelight against a cat’s eyes; a black bear, the only type of bear she could think of that would have come this far from the forest, would have fled at her approach as well, they were cowards unless cornered but, no, no matter how hard she looked, how long she stared, she saw nothing.

 She paced around the pair again, legs stiff and fur standing on end, a growl beginning to rumble in her chest as her anxiety only worsened, staring outward, looking, looking, looking, staring at the grass, staring above it, seeking a snake, a puma, even a too-curious fox or coyote.

 Her fourth loop drew her close to John, and she couldn’t say why but he caught her attention. Maybe it was the way he laid, or perhaps she had subconsciously noticed a tenseness to his figure. Maybe he had made a noise so soft that she’d just barely heard it, or she'd seen him move out of the corner of her eye. As it were, he drew her attention, and she approached him as though he were a snake coiled to strike, fighting the urge to bare her teeth when the anxiety in her chest tightened, tightened, tightened until she stood at his side.

 Finally, she could see him. Could see the firelight dancing on his face, the shadow the brim of his hat cast on him. His face was twisted in a nasty grimace and, as she watched, his brow furrowed, and he bared his teeth, the grimace worsening, before he shuddered with a funny sound low in his chest. The coil in her own clenched tight and, without meaning to, she balked, dancing a few steps away from him. He stilled, fingers twitching, and she forced herself forward, slinking as though she were trying to sneak up on him though he were asleep, and pressed her cold nose against his neck in an attempt at waking him without waking Uncle.

 She recoiled immediately, heaving. He smelled of sweat, of some awful sort of body odor far worse than she’d ever smelled before, far worse than she’d ever smelled on Uncle, than she’d ever smelled on anyone, smelled unlike anything she’d smelled before, and what it smelled like she couldn’t put a name on. Shaking her head, the smell clung stubbornly, metallic and lingering, and as she reached up to rub at her nose with her paw she could only call it fear, her own anxiety ratcheting up until, finally, she jammed her nose into the ground, scraping it from side to side. She had to sneeze, over and over, to free herself from the sand and dirt, but it was well worth it because the smell was finally, blessedly gone.

 Fearful of getting that scent on her again, she approached him hesitantly. He was beginning to shift, and her own anxiety began to spike but, knowing this time what it was, she shoved it down (‘not today, Satan!’) and butted her head into his side in a manner more cat-like than dog, but she wasn’t exactly a dog, was she? trying to find his hand in the dark. Thankfully it was gloved so, when she found it, she had no qualms about shoving her head into it repeatedly, slamming it into his leg until, finally, it twitched, cupping before instinctively beginning to stroke her fur.

 He groaned, raising his head and looking around wide-eyed, before rubbing them with his free-hand, still stroking her head absent-mindlessly. John shook his head, hissing “Jesus!” as he reached to grab a nearby beer-bottle, throwing back what remained.

 Unable to help herself, she huffed, “No, just me,” though she knew he couldn’t understand her. Shame, really, because she was incredibly funny, at least if you asked her. John tossed the bottle aside, slumping back down onto the bedroll, and she followed him, curling up against his side.

 He shoved her away, scowling as he huffed “No Gin, bad dog! No dogs on the bed,” and she gave the ungrateful bastard a Look, though what look she wasn’t entirely sure, she still wasn’t used to emoting as a dog, which was surprisingly hard, and thought about pointing out that it was a bedroll not a bed, but he wouldn’t understand her either way, but he gave into her Look, whether it was pitiful, exasperated, or straight-up puppy-dog eyes, dropping his hand to let her flop her massive head across his chest.

 John folded one arm under his head to cushion it as he stared up at the stars, his other hand coming up to scratch between her ears. The fear-scent nearly gone, she had little trouble falling asleep, basking in some of the first human affection she’d received since all of this had begun.

[overwatchladieslover]

First Kiss: Moira

When you were first assigned as Moira O’Deorain’s assistant, which was just a cover-up for being a supersized human guinea pig, you had to admit that you were quite scared. Well, scared doesn’t even begin to cover just how utterly terrified you were.

You rarely saw the scientist, she’d often grab a plate from the mess hall, and walk back to her lab, when she actually remembered to eat. She seemed to keep to herself most of the times, or at least, around your friends. Perhaps the upbeat Lùcio, the loud Reinhardt, the ever so overjoyed Lena, maybe they were not to her taste.

When you finally entered the lab, a fearful knot of your guts pulsing in your stomach, you were not so surprised of the cleanliness of it, everything was immaculate. Even the rabbits in their cages looked peaceful. Everything was neat, and orderly, folders stacked on two neat sides, which was quite the welcomed change, as you recalled Angela’s office, a turmoil of mess, papers on every available surface… You coughed, trying to attract the redhead’s attention.

Her head poked from behind a paravent, she stared at you with a slight smirk, and even though you were awfully good at reading people, the scientist was even more skilled in the art of hiding her own emotions.

“Y/N, I suppose?” She asked, walking towards you in her usual lab coat, with a black shirt underneath.

“Yes, Doctor O’Deorain.” You stood in a military posture. She circled around you, like a shark around its prey.

Her eyes were vibrant, azure blue, and blood red, that was a most magnificent combination, one that brought out the detail of her chiselled cheekbones, of her sharp jaw.

You did not see her in the mess hall yesterday, nor had you seen her there on the day of your first official meeting with O’Deorain, so after asking a couple of questions to Athena, you decided to bring some food to your new superior.

And as you felt her gaze upon your skin, you just panicked, and held up her lunch bag in front of you.

She stopped her examination, her eyebrow raised.

“Dare I ask what that is ?”

“I thought you might be hungry, I haven’t seen you in the mess hall in a long time, so I kinda thought that it’d be great to bring you something.” You babbled, under her scrutiny.

After a short moment of silence, contemplative on her behalf, absolutely mortified on yours.

You looked up sheepishly, to find quite a rare sight. Her silence was not contemplative, at all. She was red from holding up her laughter, which finally burst in a glorious chuckle, followed by many others, to your delight as you joined in.

You were definitely not thinking about sharing a bizarre burst of laughter with Moira O’Deorain, of all people, about something as trivial as your awkwardness.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, Doctor O’Deorain…” You scratched the back of your head nervously.

“Call me Moira, after all, we shall spend a lot of time together, and were you to say my title each time you address me, we’d both die of old age before getting any kind of work done.” She grabbed the lunch bag, peeking inside.

You were hoping she’d appreciate your selection, you grabbed what she seemed to like the most.

She hummed appreciatively, fishing out a sandwich, as she detailed what you both had to do for the day.

And to say that your work was exhausting was no exaggeration, Moira was a perfectionist, everything had to be done just the right way, which just so happened to be her way. You learned that she appreciated literature, of any kind. When you asked for more details, she said that she was quite interested in Japanese, French, and Irish literature. You were quite puzzled, how could that woman find the time to read what you guessed were lengthy books, when she was making breakthrough after breakthrough.

At the end of the day, you were beyond tired, it felt as if your soul simply left your mortal coil to seek repose elsewhere.

Moira invited you over to the couch, hidden by the paravent, and you simply rested for a few minutes, before fetching dinner for you and the doctor.

The two of you ate together, while watching TV, some weird talk show about science, you didn’t exactly love it, but Moira occasionally chuckled, and that was enough for you, if your boss was happy, then so were you.

 You both fell into an easy, simple routine. You had breakfast with your friends, while Moira was still asleep, tired after long nights of researching and testing, despite your disapproval. Then, you headed to the lab, three cups of coffee, two cups of tea, and started the machines and the computers.

You two would work till 1PM, before you went back to the mess hall, to grab whatever was available, your shift ended at 7PM, and you would bring dinner to your superior. You’d eat while binge watching whatever stupid talk show Moira was engrossed with at the moment.

It was Halloween. To your delight, you were quite fond of the holiday, you found it funny, carefree, it was a nice moment to have fun with your friends and colleagues. It was also a great opportunity to make friends, watch tons and tons of scary movies while rotting your teeth with candies, to Angela’s utmost despair, who tried giving out apples and other healthy snacks, the only ones really paying attention being Aleksandra and Fareeha. One caring for her waist line, the other for the doctor herself.

The agents took turns cooking. It was a really nice custom, it allowed the agents to have tasty, rich meals, from different countries. The agents often cooked in pairs, with their co-workers or friends. When your name came up, Lena, Reinhardt, Lùcio and Hana were pretty sure that you were going to pick one of them to help you out. But you didn’t.

It was quite hard for you to do. You didn’t want to ruin the comfortable relationship between you and your superior. But still, you felt like this was something that you would both enjoy.

She knew something was up with you the second you stepped into the lab. She twirled her chair around, a cigarette in her hands.

“Yes, dear?” Your poor heart wasn’t exactly ready for the pet names. She walked up to you, she had taken off her usual lab coat and shirt for a coal-black shirt with a red tie which complimented her eyes.

She tucked a stray hair behind your ear, and your felt your skin shiver with the touch of her nails.

Moira stepped into your personal space, her body almost pressed against yours, as she leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Let’s start cooking now, shall we?” Her voice was low, husky.

Moira was an amazing scientist. She was extremely smart, ingenious and meticulous. When working on chemistry, she was precise, her science was exact, sharp as her scalpel. Or nails.

But cooking with Moira was… an experience. The initially well-spoken, well-behaved scientist was currently screaming in Gaelic at a burning plate, as you were frantically trying to extinguish the fire.

You thought putting some music on was a great idea, but your playlist was over, and Moira listening to the same songs on repeat over and over again might lead to your inevitable doom.

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you put on some music?” You asked as you unplugged your phone.

She nodded, you felt yourself smile as David Bowie started to sing. You shook your head, that one was extremely predictable. But what was not predictable, was the next song. As soon as Starman was over, some guitar played wildly, as some people started to sing along in Japanese.

You heard more than saw Moira fumbling to her feet, as she had to crouch to pick up the ashes of her latest try.

“Wait, is that Naruto?” You asked. She turned her hear in your direction, you could see in her eyes and the tightness of her lips that she was absolutely mortified.

You decided to help her out. As she turned to change the music, you grabbed her hand, to hold her back, and with the other one, you grabbed the sponge with which you were trying to clean counter, and started singing along.

“We are fighting dreamers~” She looked at you as if you had gone mad, and you decided to really go over the top. If Moira was embarrassed of her own tastes of music, then she’ll go the extra mile to make her feel better about liking it.

“What? I love that song!” Without a second thought, you jumped on the counter. It was at that precise moment that Hana and Lùcio entered, convinced that you were going to pick one of them to be your partner. Then they saw you, dancing on the counter to a Naruto OP like there was no tomorrow, and Moira, covered in flour, ashes and various bits of meat.

Lùcio was ever so good at reading people, and he knew you better than you knew yourself, so he just jumped on the table with you, and started singing along with you, joined by Hana. You looked at Moira’s smiling face, and you grabbed her by the sleeve, and pulled her up with you, so that she could join.

The song finished too soon to your likings, but you were out of breath, your cheeks had turned a quite agreeable shade of red, but most importantly, you were smiling, and so were the rest of your friends, Moira included.

“I can’t believe we just did what we did.” Stated the bedazzled scientist.

“Nor can I, but it was totally worth it, wasn’t it?” You smirked, and you could read the slight surprise in her eyes.

She nodded, and you could almost see the hint of gratefulness on her face.

You went back to cooking, with Lùcio and Hana’s help, which was more than welcome, and avoided several disasters that could’ve potentially destroyed the mess hall.

At first, Moira was feeling uncomfortable, fidgeting with her long, long nails. But Lùcio and Hana had their way with people, by exchanging stories, and asking a few questions about her work, they were able to make her feel better.

Seeing Moira being social, chuckling to Hana’s wisecracks, made you feel a tad giddy. You knew that despite what she might say, she did not exactly excel in social matters. Sure, she was extremely polyvalent, knew how to manipulate people, and was a prodigious doctor, otherwise, she would’ve never been able to get her place in Oasis. She hardly saw anyone but you, and actively avoided the other agents. ‘Cannot afford any distraction’ She said. You felt like chuckling, as you saw her laughing with Lùcio at Hana’s expense.

She did talk to Gabriel, but those occasions were far-in between. You wondered if she missed Talon, perhaps she felt out of place in Overwatch, even though she used to work for the Blackwatch. Your thoughts were interrupted by the insistant beeping of the oven.

You pulled out the cookies, and smelled them.

“Hmm, you’re getting great at this, Moira.” You said without thinking.

You raised your head when you received no answer, no sarcastic quip, no noise of agreement. She looked at you as if she was seeing you for the first time. And then, a smile broke her lips. Not a smirk, not even a grin. A smile, huge enough for her to narrow her eyes slightly, and you couldn���t help but smile back.

You put the tray on the counter, walking over to your superior, and hugging her.

“Happy Halloween!” You could feel her freeze in your arms, and for a moment, you were afraid you had overstepped your boundaries. She raised her own arm, and held you back for just a few seconds, but those moments mattered to you. You heard what pretty much everyone said about her. When you got assigned with Moira, you were scared shitless. They called her a monster, a soulless scientist, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for knowledge.

But you knew that she was just a woman, perhaps she made some mistakes along the way, but that did not mean that she was a blood-thirsty madwoman.

That was until you had seen her fight.

The base got attacked. You didn’t know how, but it did. You were peacefully sleeping in your quarters when the alarms came to life. You did not possess any kind of power, you were not an exceedingly good shot, but you knew how to shoot a gun, and figured that some of your friends might require some help.

You hastily put on some basic combat armour over your old army uniform, grabbed your gun, a box of ammo, and you dashed for the labs.

The lab you shared with Moira was empty, so you ran for Mei-Ling’s door, afraid that harm might have come to the sweet Chinese girl.

You burst through the door, only to find a few bodies. Completely frozen. Mei appeared from behind one of the victims.

“Oh, hey Y/N! Nice to see you!” She waved, as if she had not murdered in cold blood half a dozen of men that could’ve crushed her.

“Mei, are you okay?” You asked, worried.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” She smiled, and at that moment, you were quite certain that no one is the great organisation that is Overwatch, was sane.

The deafening sound of an explosion echoed over your heads, some rubble falling from the ceiling.

“Shit, they’ve taken the fight to the courtyards, they’ll be on us soon.” You snarled, gun still in hand.

“They must’ve pierced our defences. Never thought I’d say this, but I hope Jamison made it out alive.” You both ran for the exit, bracing yourselves against the door, trying to catch your breath.

You counted your bullets, 12 rounds. You wished you had a rifle, but there wasn’t much to do.

Behind you, you heard the walls caving in. You looked at your friend.

“Mei, listen, they could really use your help to defend the ramparts.” She knew what you meant.

“That’s a death sentence!” She grabbed your hand, you didn’t dare to look at her. Before you were assigned to Moira, you used to work with Mei, you used to be a great team.

“If we lose any more ground, that’s a death sentence for the rest of us!” You yelled. You never yelled at Mei-Ling. She didn’t say anything, her eyes just filled with tears. She still had your hand in hers. She opened your palm, placing a weirdly shaped pen.

“When it will be too much, when you think you are done for, stab this into your arms, and press the button, okay?” She looked up, and you could see her trying her best not to cry.

“I will. Now, go!” You urged her on her way, so she could not see the tears forming in your eyes. You were no soldier, but you were ready to die like one.

 You slid the pen in a little cavity on your bracer, before knocking the door open. There were many Talon soldiers in the courtyard, you freezed as they turned toward you.

You grit your teeth, raising your weapon, and shooting. Suddenly, you were extremely grateful for the times you agreed to accompany Hana on her shooting lessons with Morrison.

One down, the second barely had the time to raise his gun, his head already had a clean hole through.

You ran for cover, the sound of guns shooting was simply ear-splitting, you whimpered, feeling something warm dripping against your temple. You didn’t have to check to know that it was blood. You jumped over your cover, shooting straight for the head, but they were too many. You couldn’t take all of them down. You didn’t feel the bullets piercing your skin and your organs, but you felt the shock, you fell to your knees, weakly grabbing at Mei’s present. You put the needle against your skin, and pushed the button. Suddenly, the pain was gone, the taste of blood was all you could feel. Metallic, warm, and kind of cold at the same time, it was thick.

You rolled on the ground, you wanted to look at the sky, if it was the last thing you were to see.

Instead, your eyes were stuck on your enemies, they were laughing at your demise, at your failure, at your death. You were smart, you knew you just wouldn’t make it. One was coming, his step heavy, his gun raised to your head.

A blur of colour knocked him down. Sharp nails made quick work of him, his throat ripped open. The other soldiers raised their weapons to shoot at the intruder, at this… creature. But an orb, oozing deep purple came their way, and you witnessed horror. Their eyes started bleeding, they fell to the ground, coughing up blood, screaming in agony.

A sniper fell from his secluded spot, and aimed at the monster. A strange filament of the same colour of the orb erupted from its opened palm and the man shook, as his cries filled the now quiet courtyard.

Reaper appeared behind the monster. He pointed over at you, the monster turned around. It was Moira. Bloodied, covered in gore, but it was Moira O’Deorain. At that exact moment, you understood why they called her a harpy, a monster. And you also understood why she always wore gloves. Her nails were straight out of a horror movie, covered in blood and ripped skin.

She ran towards you, wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve, which only smudged some more blood.

“Y/N, hold on!” She held your hand, and when you looked into her eyes, she wasn’t such a monster, but nor was she just a woman.

In her eyes welled tears unshed, and upon your lips, words unsaid.

“Reyes, hold them back I’m taking her to our lab!” She carried you in her very own arms, and damn, she was strong.

She dropped you on the cold, cold table, the one you cleaned of blood so many times you had lost count, and you thought that this time, you wouldn’t have to clean it up.

You still had something to tell her. You had seen her monstrosity, her flaws.

There were so many things you could’ve focused on. The ceiling tiles were uneven, you thought that Satya will be less than pleased, or the regular drops of blood hitting the floor, in a melodious ‘flic-floc’. You could’ve also focused on the lights flashing in front of you, of the burst of angelic blonde hair, assisting a frantic, demonical redhead.

Yet, all you could focus on was Moira. Her face, her eyes, her hands, the way they worked, ticked, how deft they were, how soft they felt, despite the rough surfaces running across her palm. Her eyes, oh, how marvellous were they, when they were overcome with emotion.

You thought about those eyes, drowned in tears and sorrow, when the pain of today becomes the grief of tomorrow, when her hands will shake as they will take your name off the door, a final reminder of your tragic ending.

All you wanted to do was call for her, tell her how you felt, how delightful she was, how much you enjoyed her company, even if it was just her complaining about Angela making her lose her time with her ‘goddamn ethics’, or listening to music in the lab while sharing a ‘god-awful’ bottle of wine Moira bought. You looked it up on the internet, it was worth twice your salary.

Classis Moira. You chuckled fondly at the memory, the weak noise left your lips, attracting the redhead’s attention.

“Stay with me my dear, follow my voice, and you shan’t be lead astray.” She held your hand as Angela cut through your clothes with steel scissors.

“M-Moira…” You half-moaned, half-whimpered.

“I am sorry. I hope that you will find in your heart the strength to forgive me.” Angela grabbed your other hand.

“Y/N, I need you to know that I am not sorry for what is about to happen. You are not dying here, not today.” Her voice was raw with emotion, her jaw clenched impossibly tight.

 The light from the ceiling grew brighter and brighter, until your sordid surroundings faded away from your vision, as you took a sip of eternity.

  You woke up in a clean, small room. You coughed, you were plugged in to different I.Vs. You tried to move your fingers, it was perfect, you wiggled your toes against the soft sheet. You finally opened your eyes. The medbay. The aroma of cinnamon was Angela’s trademark, and so was the small box of swiss chocolate.

You reached out for the box, when you saw your hand. Red and black. As if your veins were lava, and your skin ebony.

You let out a shriek that could have shattered the windows, as you jumped out of bed. Your legs refused to obey, as you fell to the ground in a symphony of clatter, as your I.V fell to the ground. You unplugged it, carelessly. Angela burst through the door, gun in hand.

“Y/N, are you okay, schätz?” She asked, sympathetically.

You were hyperventilating, sucking in shaky breaths, tears running down your cheeks.

“What have you done to me?” You whispered faintly, your jaw trembling with every breath you took.

“I am sorry, I am so, so sorry, but we had no choice. You would’ve…” Angela didn’t dare to look at you, staring at the ground.

“What have you done to me!?” You screamed, the strength of your own voice surprising you. You could feel your new hand pulsing with a dreadful wave of pure rage, it was as if your heart was now in your hand, beating.

“There was no other way. You would’ve died, you are too young to-”

You interrupted her mid-sentence, shoving her against the door with a brutality and force that was not yours.

She fell to the ground, and in her eyes, you could read fear. Pure, unbridled terror.

Without a thought to spare for the medic, you looked at the window. You jumped through the window, without a single moment of hesitation.

Falling from the second floor should’ve killed you, but you felt the same energy in your hand flowing to your legs, and landed without a scratch. In front of a terrified Lùcio.

“Christ, Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and you could read concern in his eyes.

He reached for a hug, but you dodged him, with a velocity that you had never had before.

“Who did this to me!?” You knew the answer. You knew of only one person who could do such a thing. Angela would’ve enhanced your capabilities with implants, with tech, and yet, you felt that this was in no way tech. Someone had fucked with your genes, with your body.

And there was only one person on this earth that was capable of such a feat.

“Moira O’Deorain.” You answered, as your friend looked at you with a touch of sadness.

“I’m sorry, if I had been faster, you wouldn’t have had to go there on your own.”

You paid no attention to his words, as you ran for the lab.

 On your way to your- her laboratory, you literally ran into Mei. You made her fly against the corridor’s wall.

“Rein-… Y/N?” You didn’t have enough time to dodge her embrace. She teared up in your arms, visibly shaking.

“This was my fault, all my fault, you never should’ve gone there without me, I should have sent snowball, I shoul-” You stopped her self-loathed rant with a finger to her shaking lips.

“Where is she?” You didn’t even need to tell her name, Mei-Ling knew.

“On the roof, she’s on her smoking break.” Mei pulled back from the hug, scratching her neck, as if she somehow regretted sending you to the rooftops.

You jumped more than climbed the stairs, and what would have been a most strenuous exercise was a simple formality, you felt stronger than you ever did before.

You swung the door open, and found her, leaning on the edge, smoking a cigarette.

She didn’t wear her tie, you had never seen her without one, and her shirt looked dirty, with coffee stains on it.

“Took you long enough, dear.” The pet name made your blood boil, in a few long strides, you grabbed her by the collar, and your wrath turned to something else.

“Look at what you have done to me, Moira. Take a good hard look.” You gestured to your mutilated hand, to its awful colour, to your reddening irises.

“I did what had to be done. I could not just let you die.” She looked at you straight in the eye, not flinching.

“You’re not even sorry?”

“Not remotely. It was either this, or death.” She took a long drag, blowing smoke on your face.

“Why didn’t you let me die?” You asked, feeling tears prickling your eyes. You cursed at yourself, now was certainly not the time to show any kind of weakness.

“You know why.”

“Why would I be asking, if I knew?”

“You…” She marked a pause, you let her go, she braced her forearms on the edge, eyes set on the distance. Her pack of cigarettes was sitting right beside her arm. Her gloves were still torn and covered in blood.

You grabbed one, and lit it up with her lighter. The sight of the said lighter would’ve made you laugh, had you not been devastated over your recent predicament. It had a nice picture of a cat, with its paws stretched towards you. You could almost feel the kitty purr.

“You, you make me happy.” Her accent got thicker, as if a monster like her could feel any kind of emotion.

“Do I, now?” The smoke burned your throat, but the pain was a temporary relief, it ground you, the smoke that left your lips was like the wool that was pulled over your eyes.

This woman drove you insane.

Because for all the hatred she had brought, she had a very simple reason. And that reason, was you. You who listened to her rants about science, you, who had been daring enough to embarrass yourself to make her feel better, to make her have fun.

You, who had gone out of your way to make her feel welcomed, not ostracised anymore.

You, who now looked at her like at a monster.

“You probably think I am a monster, some kind of freak, of mad scientist who needs to be put down. Perhaps I am.” She stated. She stood, in her tall glory, smelling of cold coffee and smoke, with dishevelled hair and bags under her eyes.

“If you are a monster, then, so am I.” Your monstrous hand held hers. You could feel her tense up against your fingers, as you removed her glove. She saved you, after all.

“I will not thank you. I shan’t fall to my knees and let my head rest against your bosom, as nice at it may be.” She chuckled at that, a low, humourless chuckle.

“‘Shan’t’ ? I am a terrible influence.”

“Aren’t you though?” You smiled, for the first time since you woke up. It was not a full out blown smile, it was a pained, bittersweet smile.

Almost as bittersweet as the taste of her lips. She turned to you, to look at you better, perhaps to throw a quip, or to nag you, but you did not give her the time. You grabbed her by her collar, torn and worn, bloodied and dirtied, and put your lips on hers.

And Lord, did she kiss you back. Her hands flew around your waist, pulling you close, you buried your hand in her hair. This was no simple kiss. This was meaningful, it meant forgiveness, understanding.

Your tongues danced against each other, not in rivalry, but in harmony.

You both had to break for some air, but you dared not to part. You rested your forehead against one another, never breaking eye contact.

Lost in her eyes, you had never noticed how truly wonderful they were. They seemed to gaze into your very soul, they were weary, they had seen so much death and destruction, so much pain and grief.

Yet, you found yourself thinking that never in your whole entire existence, you had ever seen such beauty.

The solemn beauty of a flower on an old, broken grave, the twisted exquisiteness of a single drop of blood on an immaculate rose.

Yes, this kiss was meaningful. And as you rested your head against her shoulder, in the warmth of her embrace, you understood that this also meant home. 

[endlesstalesofwonder]

Spirits and Summons

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” Alec shouted as he nearly tripped on his way to open the door before whoever was outside pounded the door the floor. He was peacefully sitting beside the fire, pretending like he wasn’t home with hopes of avoiding any children. Now it was ruined by whoever thought it was funny to continuously beat a hole into his door. He yanked the thing open to find his friend, Jace, standing there, alongside Clary and Simon who also decided to tag along to their little event. He greeted them all as they entered his small house, his gaze, however, frozen on the pale box in Jace’s hands. “Why the hell did you bring a Ouija board? You know how I feel about that shit.”

“It’s Halloween,” Jace said as though that would make it better, “make an exception.”

“No.”

“Come on,” he whined, “I want to see if this thing works.”

“No.” There was no way he was going to let Jace summon something into his house and then try to hide as though it was never his idea in the first place – that is, if it actually worked – which it doesn’t. He still didn’t want to take the risk.

“One try. That’s it.”

Alec rubbed the bridge of his nose to try and relieve the headache he could feel coming on – or perhaps that was just Jace’s presence. “Will you never bring it up again?”

“I swear.”

“One try? Even if we decide to call quits early?”

Jace’s eyes said no, but Alec stared him down. He pouted. “Fine.”

“Set it up in the dining room,” Alec sighed reluctantly.

“YES!” Jace cried out and bolted off to the dining room around the corner like a kid on Christmas. Simon and Clary laughed, but Alec really didn’t find the humor in it. He just wanted to keep Jace quiet for a couple more minutes. “Hey, do you have any candles?”

“No, Jace.”

“Dammit.” Alec shook his head as he listened to whatever Jace was tossing and turning around in the dining room to get situated for the evening. Jace had always been so invested in Halloween and the supernatural forces. He didn’t understand it and he really didn’t want to. There were no such things as demons, ghosts, angels, or anything else of the sort. There was no higher being that answered prayers or questions with obscene signs like turning on a light or blowing out a candle. Alec knew. He’d given up a long time ago.

Simon and Clary followed Alec as he showed them to the dining room, finding Jace flopping down a black table cloth that he may or may not have brought himself. “Why are you so determined to see if this things works? Got the hots for a ghost?”

“Ew. Gross. No.” Jace scrunched his face at the thought and shivered dramatically. “Just think of it as a science experiment.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Alec sighed, something that would be a common occurrence for the rest of the night. Jace took his place at the head of table and the others fell into place on the other three sides, Alec across from Jace, and Simon mirrored Clary. Jace inhaled deeply then paused, jumped up from his seat and turned off the lights in the room. “Really?”

“It’s good atmosphere,” Simon whispered then yelped when there was a thump under the table. Clary looked all too pleased with herself.

Jace settled back down and set his phone down on the table, the flashlight gleaming up and under his face to illuminate the deep features there. “First, here are the rules: Never play alone. Never play in a graveyard. Always remember to say goodbye. Don’t ask about the future. Understand?” Everyone nodded. “Everyone place a finger on the planchette. We circle the board once for each player,” Jace circled one, twice, three times, four, “then once for the group. We call upon any nearby spirits for communication. Speak with us. We’re here to listen.”

The room fell silent. Alec imagined that there would be a crack of lightning or a surprise rain storm that would come alongside this little game. He rose an eyebrow expectantly at Jace. “Now, who wants to ask something first?”

“Is anyone there?” Clary voiced first. “What’s your name?”

Nothing happened at first. They were all looking at one another, waiting. And then it happened. It started moving from its initial position, sliding towards the upper corner.

“D,” Clary stated.

Simon exhaled, “Shit.”

The planchette kept moving across the board, the four of them spectating as it spelled out the rest of the word. D-I-C-K. As if. Alec removed his finger from the piece. “JACE!”

The blonde started laughing hysterically. “What? I can’t help it.”

“Not cool, man,” Simon huffed. “Not cool.”

“You didn’t come here for cool, Lewis. You came here to be scared,” Jace mocked, then resumed his place. “Alec, put your finger back.”

He contemplated leaving. This was a stupid idea in the first place. He reluctantly put his finger back on the planchette. “There.” As soon as he did, Jace’s phone’s flashlight sputtered and went out.

“What the hell? It was fully charged.” Jace used his other hand to smack his phone across his thigh to no avail. It was completely dead, the screen frozen on the pixeled screen. “That’s weird.”

Simon hissed, “Don’t.”

“Simon?” Clary’s voice wobbled as she shivered. “Is it just me of did it get really cold in here?”

“Who’s here?” Jace called out to the board – the room around them. “If there is someone here, move the piece.”

Alec felt the cold too. It tingled up his spine and settled at the base of his skull, like the sensation of someone breathing down your neck, or being observed from afar. He rubbed his neck but the feeling still stayed.

“IS SOMEONE HERE?”

Alec jerked slightly. “Jace, calm down –“

“Look,” Simon cut him off. The planchette was moving steadily towards the only answer that they didn’t want to see.

YES.

“Hey, this isn’t funny, Jace,” Simon laughed half-heartedly. There was something in his eyes that Alec could easily identify – fear.

Jace’s eyes were wide with the same look. He slowly shook his head and said, “This isn’t me.”

“I’m scared,” Clary whispered, probably unknowingly.

“We should stop,” Simon tried to plead with Jace, but they all watched as he gulped – probably swallowing down the fear stuck in the back of his throat – and straightened in his chair. “What’s your name?”

Nothing.

“What is your name?” Jace repeated.

Nothing.

“What is your name?”

It was small, the jerk of the piece. It moved in the same manner towards a letter: M.

“That’s not a name,” Simon murmured low. “Is it?”

Alec wasn’t going to stay to figure it out. “Say goodbye,” Alec demanded. “Say it.”

He looked up and found Jace’s eyes, telling him everything that he was feeling. Jace looked down at the board and said, “Goodbye.”

The planchette didn’t move. “Goodbye.”

It still didn’t move. Jace scrunched his face and tried pushing the piece for himself, and it still didn’t move. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s not possible,” Simon said, pushing too, but it still wouldn’t move. Clary joined in, and finally Alec, but it was stuck in its same place over the M. They all removed their fingers and tried picking up the piece, scraping, peeling, smacking without anything happening. It was as though someone had superglued the piece to the board.

“This isn’t funny, Jace.”

“This isn’t me!” he pleaded. “I got this this morning and brought it over in the plastic. How am I supposed to glue something without even opening it in the first place?”

“Maybe there’s a magnet under the table? Or trip wires? Maybe Izzy’s under the table keeping the thing in place while you’re up here trying to scare the living daylights out of –“ Clary cut him off with a sharp cry.

“What, Clary?”

She stood up from her chair. “I swear I just saw that move.”

The planchette was still over the M, but it was not pointed towards Alec rather than Jace. It had not been there a second ago. “Jace, what is happen-“

They didn’t know what to do. They just watched. The planchette moved on its own. It shot quicker than anything any of them had ever seen, sliding from one letter to the next.

M-A-G-N-U-S.

They all exploded into shouts and cries and pleas all at once. The only things he could make out were: “SHIT!”, “What the hell, Jace!”, “What the hell is a Magnus?” At the sound of the name in use, the house grew eerily quiet. A few floorboards creaked but no one had moved from their spot. The four of them were on the verge of running from the room in fear. Their eyes all landed back on the planchette as they heard the wood scraping in another fury of letters: R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N-R-U-N. And then it started making a figure eight on the board without end.

“SAY GOODBYE!”

“BREAK IT!”

“BURN IT!” Jace’s eyes lit up, flitting right over to the still lit fire that Alec had taken place beside earlier. The lightbulb lit in his mind and he immediately jumped into action. He grabbed the board, ignoring the stinging sensation coiling its way through his arms as it got stronger and stronger the closer he got to the fireplace, and then tossed the entire thing inside. It took it a moment to catch fire, but once it did, it went up in dark purple and blue flames. Simon and Clary joined Jace by the fire as Alec slowly made his way, his eyes catching someone moving out of the corner of eyes down the hall. A shadow. He chose to swallow down any dark ideas.

“Alec?”

Alec blinked, finding the others looking at him expectantly, and with a tinge of worry. “Sorry.. I thought I saw something.” It’s nothing, he told himself. Your mind is playing tricks.

He felt as Jace placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. The pressure grounded him, bringing him back to this time and place with his friends. His friends. In his house. It’s fine. It’s nothing. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he gulped. “I’m fine.”

“We can stay, right?” Jace looked to the small entourage. Simon rubbed the back of his neck while looking towards the door and Clary was about ready to cry. That’d be a no.

Alec cut in before they even had to make a decision. “It’s fine. Go. I’ll call you throughout the night.”

“You better.” Jace gave him a pointed finger and then went on his way with Clary and Simon out the door and to their own, much better lives. Alec made sure to lock the door and turn off any lights before facing the hours that lie ahead of him.

He made sure to call every hour – after he got an angry call from Jace saying how he was supposed to keep checking in. Ten o’clock passed. Eleven. Midnight was gone. He fell asleep sometime after that with his phone in his hand.

It was some time after that Alec woke to the sound of nails scraping against the walls, growing louder and louder towards his bed. At first, he thought he was dreaming. But the sensation on the back of his neck was back – it was stronger. It made his stomach twist and his heart clench. His body jerked into an upright position and found that nothing was in his room. He made himself lie back in bed and close his eyes, willing himself back to sleep.

“You humans are always so gullible.”

Alec’s eyes shot open and there was a pair of golden eyes peering down at him. The cold, scrawling sensation of his neck was now full-blown fear, paralyzing him from even thinking about moving his limbs. He could still feel, however. He felt the additional weight of someone sitting on his chest and a sharp talon gliding over the surface of his cheek. “It’s actually quite entertaining.”

The cold finger kept sliding and sliding, following the curve of his cheek then his jaw then the arc of his throat. “I am centuries old. You need to do more than throwing the board into the fire to get rid of me.”

He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to do anything else than just lie there and be this ragdoll stiff on a bed. It surprised himself as the word spilled from his lips, “Magnus.”

The man – this wicked spirit of some kind – smirked down at him, his teeth glimmering in the dark. “Let’s play, shall we?”

[lunaschild2016]

Worth Fighting For Chapter 19 - Dazed And Confused

Rating: M (violence, smut, language, references to abuse and violence)

Romance/Tragedy

He was ruthless, cunning and completely committed to protecting his city but her arrival to Dauntless called everything he ever thought he believed into question. Duty and following orders were no longer enough. They both found more than they ever thought possible. They both found something worth fighting for. Eric/OC AU M Tragedy/Romance

@kenzieam@ericdauntless@jojuarez26@jaihardy@iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt@badassbaker@readsalot73@fuckthatfeeling@dani5102@beltz2016@beautifulramblingbrains@affabletimelady@irasancti@meganbee15@meganbee15@lauraaan182@gylisaa@scorpio2009@bookgirlthings@pathybo@violetsonthelam XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 19 - Dazed and Confused

Kat

I either slept way too much or not enough judging by how my body was protesting every move I made when my alarm went off. There had been no point in arguing that I would be fine going back to the dorm. Both Tris’ and my own pleads had fallen on deaf ears. Zach had come to bring us dinner and I tried to appeal to him but I should have known better. As far as he was concerned he was happy I would be staying in the clinic and if he had his way there would be a guard posted right beside my bed.

The only reason it hadn’t happened was because that would have been more than a little telling and a bit much. Thank fuck.

We had been surrounded by friends until it was dinner and then they had all been ejected rather briskly by the nurse. I don’t know what Eric had said to her but she was super attentive to me. I almost got into a physical fight with her when she was insisting I take pain meds.

It was only when Lynn had shown up and talked to her, apparently it was her sister Shauna, that she let up. It didn’t help much more though because as soon as she realized I was her sister’s best friend she seemed to double her efforts.

I had finally given into her nagging and let her give me something to help me sleep. She might have slipped in some other shit but at that point I didn’t care. It also made Tris happy too when she knew I was accepting something. Zach had even left in a much better mood. So score one for me in making everyone else happy with the fact that I let myself be drugged up.

Whatever Shauna had given me seemed not to be still coursing through my system. Good or bad I couldn’t decide right now. The masochist in me was telling me this was my punishment. I had failed. I had failed again and wasn’t living up to the promise to myself of making things up to Dauntless and the city by becoming Dauntless myself and being the best soldier I could be.

Soldier's didn’t lose their minds at the sight of another fellow soldier doing their job. They didn’t put personal feelings and attachments ahead of their duty. They didn’t then let all of that get in their head so badly they couldn’t defend themselves or others.

So every wince, every twinge, every twist of pain was my just punishment. A physical reminder that I would never let it happen again.

Today we had a trip to the fence. Zach had filled us in on that when I had asked him after Al mentioned to Tris that it was announced at the end of training. There would be no training or fights. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t still follow my routine.

I grinned when I saw the small pile of folded clothes at the end of my bed with a small note on it. It was a simple set of sweatpants, t-shirt and tennis shoes. My other clothes had been taken away because I was forced into the gown the clinic made you wear when you stayed any real amount of time.

‘Don’t think you are getting out of what is expected. Dauntless-born training room. If you want coffee, be on time.’

There was no name with it but the tone said it was all Eric.

I looked to Tris’ bed and frowned. There were no clothes waiting for her so she would need to head back to the dorm to get dressed and ready for her day.

Sighing I went and gently shook her awake after I dressed in the simple clothes. She let out a groan that I am sure sounded similar to the one I had let loose when I woke just minutes earlier...and the entire time I dressed.

“Hrnnn.” She moaned and cracked open her eyes. “Oh god Kat. It wasn’t all a dream.”

I gave a chuckle and gently shook my head. “I’m afraid not Sis. We look quite the pair right now I am sure.”

“Well, if I look anywhere near as bad as you...then I can imagine we would scare people away with them screaming something about lepers. You are all black and purple, Kat.” She reaches out a hand and tries to probe the battered side of my face in a gentle manner. Her sight is off so she just ends up sticking her finger in my eye.

“Fuck!” I yell and cover my eye. “Damn Tris, I know you were pissed at me for letting myself get hurt so bad but do you have to add to it?”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” Tris sits up as quickly as her body will allow.

My eye is watering but I shake my head and start laughing. She has not only just made a joke but also cussed in the span of five minutes. “Ok, now I know how to get you to loosen up. Just make sure to beat the shit out of you and dope you up.”

She pauses in trying to reach out to me and playfully scowls at me. “Hey, I am funny. I make jokes all the time. It isn’t my fault not many people get sarcasm.”

I smirk at her and shake my head. “Maybe you need to actually say these supposed jokes instead of just mentally telling them.”

She shrugs and smiles at me. “Maybe I do.” She groans when she swings her legs over the bed. “Today is going to suck.”

I hummed in agreement. “It is. Look I have to get to the training room to serve my time. You should head to the dorm, get dressed and get some breakfast. We don’t have to be to meet the group until 0800 but you want to give yourself plenty of time to move around. The more you move around the less you will hurt later on.”

She nods with a sigh and groan combined in one. “I might take a shower.”

I tense at this and shake my head. “Not in the dorm. See if you can take one here maybe and just wear the same clothes back to the dorm. Please Tris?”

She nods in agreement and thought. I can tell the thought of a slightly more private shower than the dorm appeals to her so she won’t let her pride or stubbornness kick in at my request.

I reach out and hug her lightly then make my way out of the clinic. At first a nurse tries to stop me from leaving or leaving without getting more medication at the very least. But when I mention that I have to meet a certain leader and would hate to tell him I was made late because I was held up by her, she quickly lets me go.

It seems to take forever to make my way to the training room. Apparently the guys thought so too because I am met halfway from the clinic by Chase and Zach.

Chase sighs when he gets a look at me but Zach smiles at me encouragingly. “You are already looking better, Kat.”

Chase snorts causing me to glare at him and Zach to slap him upside the head. “What? You want me to lie to her? Sorry, not going to happen. Prepare yourself, Kat. He is going to flip when he sees you.”

I groan and bite my lip, a mistake because I feel the sting of my split lip. “He is already worked up isn’t he?”

Chase grunts and looks me over, his face pinched and what looks like circles under his eyes. “You mean still...not already.”

I sigh and walk on, Chase putting his hand under my elbow until Zach mumbles something like ‘bad idea’. Causing him to move it away and puts space between himself and me. I frown but don’t say anything because I don’t have the energy to wonder what that is about. It is requiring more effort to move and breath than I would have thought. I didn’t actually have fractured ribs but it seemed the bruising was enough to make breathing hurt just as bad.

“Did you take anything this morning, Kat?” Zach asked as we made it to the training room finally.

I shook my head. “No. I will be fine. The more I move around the less it will hurt later.”

I could only hope that would be the case.

“Well, I guess it is a good thing Eric has some things back at the apartment you can take. You can also get showered there since you aren’t going back to the dorm.” Both were orders and while I would wait to reserve my argument on the meds they were going to try and cram down my throat, the shower did sound blissful.

“Mmmmm. A shower sounds excellent. Hey!” I look over to the two of them scowling. “I was promised coffee.”

“Well…” is drawled slowly in front of me but even though I can tell he is trying to sound casual there is coiled anger in that one word. “At least she sounds like her normal self. You get your coffee after we talk about what exactly you were thinking yesterday.” Eric hadn’t waited for me to get to him. 

Oh no, he had stalked to me in that way that sent shivers through me.

Even though he still had the same amount of fury etched into his face and body it didn’t send fear through me like it did yesterday. It worried me, yes, but I wasn’t afraid. 

Then even the worry was gone, as suddenly and very gently one arm had gone to my waist to pull me closer while the other hand slid along my jaw until he was cradling my face in his hand. My body was flush against his, my hands had gripped his vest in surprise and support.

I had been having trouble breathing already but this stole my breath away as he tilted my head back, his eyes moving over my face. His lips thinning even more as he took in the swollen lumps and bruised flesh.

I became suddenly so very self-conscious of just how ugly I must look. I tried to pull away, my face pulling into frown.

How was it possible for him to still be so gentle while keeping me locked firmly into place? “You will never do that to me again, Kat. I will be making sure that something like that never happens again...just, not today. This morning you aren’t training. The one morning I am giving you a pass for. If this happens again, I will make what happened in that ring yesterday look like love taps. Do you understand me?”

His voice had the deadly soft quality he used that got across his point so much more effectively then yelling or a raised voice ever could.

I swallowed and licked my lips nervously as I nodded. “Yes Eric.”

The pad of his thumb ghosted across my lips seconds behind my tongue and he inhaled through widened nostrils. Even with the pain in my lip that gesture had my breathing picking up and my knees feeling like they were going to buckle. A flush crept across me that seemed to start around my core and sent tingling through my entire body.

For a moment I felt like we were moving towards each other but that could only be the dizziness I felt and not real.

Chase cleared his throat and Eric blinked then glared at Chase. Whatever look Chase was giving behind me must have been communicating something because Eric sighed and nodded before stepped back.

“We better get up to the apartment. Kat, walk ahead with Zach. I won’t be far behind.”

I frowned but nodded. As soon as he had moved away I felt a rush of the pain that had momentarily been absent. I also felt a keen sense of loss from him no longer touching me. It sent an ache through me, stronger than the ones in my pains and muscles currently. I couldn’t even handle where that ache was originating from it had me blushing so badly. I turned to see Zach waiting by the door and walked gingerly over to meet him.

Chase and Eric walked a distance behind us but I felt bad because I was setting the pace and it wasn’t a fast one. Every time I tried to pick it up though I would hear dual growls from behind me and Zach would sigh in frustration. At me or them...not sure which one.

“We have all been where you are right now, Kat. It isn’t weakness to need time to recover or take something to help.” Zach said with a pointed look to me after I had tried to go into more of a  brisk walk.

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth and nodded. “I know it isn’t weakness. That isn’t why I…”

“Oh god. Kat, don’t fucking say it. I can’t stand to hear you say that again. Eric might lose his shit right here if he hears it…..” Zach trails off and had been speaking low to begin with when he interrupted me.

He casts a nervous look over his shoulder but quickly looks back to me and shakes his head. “Whatever reasons you think you deserve the shit you are doing to yourself, have you ever really talked about it with anyone Kat?”

I flush and shake my head in the negative. No I haven’t and because of reactions like Zach’s. How can I tell people or make them understand how deep it runs in me, the need for this thing? How can I explain where it originated from without bringing on more questions? How can I talk about it with the people I would even trust enough to tell, knowing it would hurt them to hear it.

“No. I guess I just don’t…” I sigh and shrug, then wince from the movement pulling on my ribs.

Thankfully we are finally at Eric’s door and equally as thankfully he didn’t press any more on the subject as he enters in the code, pushes open the door and then motions for me to go in first.

“I will start the coffee and breakfast. Eric already has some things in his bathroom for you but I am sure he is going to want to tell you all of this himself. I was thinking of doing omelettes this morning. Sound good?” Zach asks as we move through the small entryway and into the apartment.

I give a little chuckle and smile at him genuinely. “Honestly? Food in general sounds awesome and anything I don’t have to cook even better.”

“Are you a terrible cook or something?” He asks playfully and with a real smile back at me, heading right to the kitchen.

I shrug slightly and shake my head. “Not terrible if you count by Abnegation standards. I guess if you just are in a real bind and want very boring and bland food then I am your girl. I could learn new shit if I wanted to but oddly enough…” I stop and smirk over at him. “I am A OK with never having to cook again. Maybe I am just on a kitchen strike phase or something.”

He let out a laugh and shrugged. “Well since I like cooking and Eric doesn’t mind it so much either, I think we have you covered. If not the dining hall does at least.”

Eric and Chase had entered in at the last part. Zach had already moved into the kitchen to get the coffee started and I was standing in front of Eric’s book shelf thumbing through a book that had caught my eye.

Chase was chuckling and Eric was shaking his head.

“Let’s get you set up to take a shower, Kat.” Eric said coming over to me, taking the book from my hand and putting it up but keeping a hold of my hand. “You can borrow it if you want.” He mumbled and pulled me with him towards where the bathroom is.

Which is in his bedroom.

I tried not to blush, but failed. Tried not to gulp, and failed at that too.

Eric hadn’t laughed smiled or lightened up at all along the way from the training room to his apartment. This brought a chuckle from him though.

I won’t look at his bed!

Massive thing that it is strangely...fluffy...looking.

Ok, so I am looking but I will not let out a moan at how utterly fabulous it would feel to sink into that thing and sleep away the soreness in my body. “Hmmm”

Failed that dammit!

“Fuck me…” I mutter and jump when Eric growls then tugs me a little harder to the bathroom.

He slams a hand to the door sending it jarring into the wall and flicks on a light. “I have towels and bath stuff on the counter for you. Zach picked it out so blame him if it smells bad. Toothbrush, toothpaste.” He starts pointing to stuff and his voice is a tight rumble as if he is straining to talk at all. “There are some clothes here that might be better for where you are going to today. It will be cold. Before you get dressed all the way though…” He stops with a huff and runs a hand over his face “I have shit that we need to put on you to help your ribs and bruising. Then we are going to wrap your ribs up and that should help with breathing.”

I blush when he finishes and stare stupidly at him. “Ummm...ok.”

It’s ok Kat. You can do this. Lynn and Mar talked you through this. You have even sparred with them and Uri in your sports bra and crop top tank before.

Yeah but you didn’t want to do with them the things you were thinking about in your dreams last night that you want to do with the man in front of you. You also are nowhere near having the type of body the other women here in Dauntless have.

“I won’t try anything, Kat. I just want to help.” Eric had moved to tilt my chin and make me look at him. His forehead is all scrunched up and he lost most of the strained look. Now he sounds just...worried and genuine.

“Believe me, I don’t think you would try anything.” I mean to reassure him that I trusted him and didn’t think that of him. Instead my words seemed to upset him for some reason.

He shakes his head, lets his hand drop and moves to the door. “Just...get showered. Take your time. I know it will feel good to have a private shower and who knows when you will get another. When you get done just call me and we can get all of that done.”

I nod and watch him start to close the door, frowning as I watch him go with slightly slumped shoulders and a scowl.

“Eric.” I call out and turn more fully to him. I put a hand out to come into contact with his on the door handle.

He stops and looks to me but the expression hasn’t changed.

“I really do trust you, Eric. I am sorry if you didn’t believe me earlier.”

I curl my fingers around his hand and let my thumb gently brush across his skin. I swear I feel a little tremble in his arm before he tilts his head and smirks at me.

“That’s a start, Kat. Thank you.”

Then he smiles at me before nodding and gently moving to close the door.

Now I am the one scowling and left a little bewildered by his response. A start to what? And why did that, along with how his eyes seemed to move over me briefly, cause warmth and a slight wetness to center at my core? It was an innocent look from a friend and I needed to find a way to get over all of that if I didn't want to mess things up.

I really needed to talk about this shit with someone. Not Mar. She would go all girly squeal and demand to know why I was asking and who I was feeling that way about.

Lynn...she knows about Eric and I being friends. She knows of my attraction to him. She is also blunt, brutally honest and could be discreet about things. There were so many things I needed to talk to her about in regards to what I was feeling and sex. Things I hadn’t bothered to really ask about outside of learning the basics in health class. Now that I was feeling things though….curiosity might just kill this fucking cat.

With a nod I move to the shower and start the water. Just checking the temperature and water pressure has me closing my eyes with a sigh and moan of pleasure. I am going to enjoy the hell out of this, if I don’t hurt myself trying to enjoy it.

I chuckle a little and strip to step into the super hot water. I hope Dauntless has a big enough supply of this, because I am about to try and set a record for the longest shower in history.

[alittleoptimistic]

The Monster On Abington Street

There is a monster that lives on Abington Street. It creeps in dark corners and leaves the smell of burning in its wake. It oozes strange black goo and sometimes, late at night when every eye is shut and the moon flickers behind a cloud, you can hear it crackle a spiteful and melancholy challenge at the sky. People go missing, and they don’t come back, and the next morning the whole street smells burnt. Like burning beans. What sort of creature is this?

I, Benjamin Garrick, am going to find this monster and nothing as absurd as a bedtime is going to stop me.

I set out with the knife I took from Davy’s secret box under his bed, and, slowly, I open my window and let cool air waft into my bedroom. The wind speaks of dew and quiet and just that hint of burnt. The monster is nearby. I am glad Davy was gone this evening because it made it easier to get the knife. I think he’s gone to his girlfriend’s again...

Carefully, I ease my way down, catching the button of my shirt on the window ledge. It tears, and I say one of the bad words Davy says when Mom or isn’t around as the button pops and bounds downward to be swallowed by the yawning night.

I dangle by my fingertips, kicking my feet, and it hurts a bit, but I don’t know if this hurts less than letting go will. But then the wind speaks again and brings that smell, and I clench my jaw. I have a mission. A sacred duty.

I drop, and the fall isn’t nearly as frightening as I thought it would be. Landing as quietly as I can (which isn’t very quiet, to be honest) I scramble to my feet and poke my knife at that thick darkness breathing in slow groans around me. It flinches back at the touch of my blade. Or perhaps it is I who flinched.

The burning, smoky smell grows stronger.

Mom says the smell is the broken sewer pipe. She says Mrs. Nancy is always flushing things down her toilet she ought not to, and eventually, it’s messed up the entire street. This seems like an awful complex explanation when the true answer is fairly obvious. The monster leaves the smell as a warning. But Mom doesn’t see it that way, and Mrs. Nancy won’t admit to sticking rocks and toothbrushes and little stuffed cats toys down the toilet. She’s an old lady who has to be at least five hundred years old with more wrinkles than a face. She clutches her little golden cross necklace and holds it up when Davy walks near. That’s because he wears black and talks too loud and plays loud music and watches bad movies, but I think it still kinda shocks him every time she does that.

Carefully, I ease across our lawn, avoiding the orange street lights. Orange streetlights are gaps where things don’t quite line up correctly and everything becomes plastic, and I need my wits about me. Besides, I do want to bring the monster’s attention to me. Kneading the knife in my hand, I run my fingers along the initials engraved inside. D. G. Dad got it for Davy back when he was around a lot. He used to tell me he’d get me one when I turned ten, but I’m eleven now, and he’s gone. Mrs. Nancy said he wasn’t a good person, but I don’t see how that can be true.

That’s okay, though because when I get the monster, Dad will think that’s pretty cool. And he’ll know I’m old enough to have my own knife. Then I won’t have to take Davy’s. And then Dad will come back.

The smell is getting stronger. As I walk down the street, my shadow stretches before me, and cat ears grow from the top of its head. A tail swishes behind me and my fingers sharpened like claws. The shadow’s head tilts slightly in a confused, wild sort of way. This does not startle me. It is just the monster messing with my mind. Besides, if I could be anything, being a panther would be a good option for my current mission.

I press on until I reach Dr. Orn’s house. Dr. Orn hates everything. He hates the color yellow and he hates lawn clippings, and I think the only thing he doesn’t hate is giving people disgusting medicine. For the most part, the medicines are horribly tasting, and he thinks its funny to watch you squirm. In his defense, though, his medicine does work, and he is quite rich because of it. He is handsome and cheeky and has a car he takes to the car wash every three days because birds seem to love a nice, clear target. That’s another thing he hates. Birds. And I’d like to say he’d not very fond of children either. He used to babysit me and Davy, and every time we went, he’d spend the entire time reading us a list of rules until we passed out from boredom. Mom adores him. She thinks he should start his own radio show and give life advice.

Next to his house, there is an old house with ivy growing up the side and more of a dirt patch along the front than a lawn. The house is pressed into the earth by the many comments made by its neighbor Ms. May, who has garden flamingos and color coordinated flowerbeds. She likes to sit on her front porch with her hands glued to her hips, and she waits until someone walks past. Then, she catches them quickly with her words and makes to you listen to forty minutes of all the awful grievances she has gone through lately and how they all have sprouted, in one way or another, from the owner of the horrible house next door.

Mr. Dunkin, who owns the house with the ivy and the old rusted car and the tree that dips down lifeless limbs to tap at the windows on rainy, cold days, thinks Ms. May is amusing, I imagine. I personally think he lets it get this bad just because it irritates her. There are stories about Mr. Dunkin being mean to kids a long, long time ago. Mom used to always make us walk on the other side of the street when we passed by. Don’t want him getting any ideas, she’d say. Just to be safe.

I don’t know Mr. Dunkin, so I can’t say whether this is a necessary step or not, but many people believe it is. No one’s seen him in a long time and people are starting to talk about selling the house.

After passing his house and Ms. May’s house, I reach the end of the road. Beyond, a large forest stretches into infinity. It has woven branches and beaded eyes and is overall very temperamental. If there is something we all can agree on, it is that it is only a good idea to enter the forest when it invites you.

I don’t think the monster is in the forest this way. The forest smells like dirt and more dew and pine needles. No burning.

I turn and am about to head in a new direction when a flicker catches my eye. I squint at it.

Just between two houses on the left, something scampers. My heart bubbles up into my throat, and my grip tightens on the knife. If I kill this monster, things will be okay. I know they will.

Quiet as a panther, I glide across the lawns and sidewalks, and I press my back against the rough bricks of the house I’d seen the flicker near. Something skids again. It whispers something I cannot hear and shoves cold shivers down my spines. This monster is a thing of shadows and ash. Fire and darkness all at once. Taking a deep breath, I hold up my knife and step around the corner. All is quiet. All is dark.

A burnt darkness.

The air is heavy with smoke, but I still can’t see where the smell is coming from. The monster moves the air around me and propels me forward, and I cannot do anything but follow. Deeper and deeper between the ever narrowing crack between the houses. Soon both houses scrape my shoulders, and then I am turned to the side to continue on. And I cannot go back. I am pressed forward. A trembling sets into my bones like a great cold and I almost drop my knife. But I do not. I push and tug and struggle until finally, I reach the edges of the houses. A great black curtain covers the exit. When it brushes against my face, at first I believe it to be a spider web, but soon my mistake is rectified. I press against the curtain, and it gives. The darkness eases back, and the silence disappears. I am swamped in noise all at once. Drowning in it.

They are familiar voices, talking, laughing, arguing, murmuring, snickering, complaining. They are Abington Street. I push the curtain aside once and for all, and squint at the sudden light. Inside the forest behind the houses, they have set up a circle of flat stones jabbed into the earth. They sit in lawn chairs at picnic tables with red and white checkered table clothes inside the circle and no one appears to notice me. The smell of burning beans, of cooking, is overwhelming, and I realize suddenly, that this is where the smell is coming from. This is the source.

My knife falls to my side. Carefully, I ease forward. A large bonfire in the middle of the stone circle has a very large pot on it, and they are cooking some type of chili.

Their eyes are chilly.

One by one they turn to look at me. They are dead-eyed. Sharks. I see mom and Mrs. Nancy and Ms. May, and Dr. Orn and more, and they all fall quiet. Quiet as the dead.

Hello, little boy, they say. Hello Benjamin. Thought you’d join us early, did you

What’s going on? I ask.

They look at each other. They smile.

A feast.

Something is very, very wrong, and it isn’t until then that the feeling in my gut suddenly becomes something I can see with my eyes. Someone’s black clothes lay on the floor near the fire. I know those clothes. The fire dances screaming shadows twisting in agony across the stone circle. There are names written on the inside sides of the stones.

David Dunkin, says one.

Jason Garrick, says another. That’s my dad.

And many more names. But one stone stands out from the rest. As the crowd slowly eases closer, coiling tighter and tighter around me, my hands tremble and my vision blurs, but I can still make out Davy Garrick on the newest stone. The red paint is still wet.

Mom takes a step toward me and she smiles and it looks very nice. You are the good son, Benjamin. Eat with us.

She holds out the bowl. I take it and am shaking so bad the broth spills over my fingers. And I know, right then, why the street smells like burnt beans the night after someone goes missing.

I’m holding Davy in my hands. I’m holding him.

I won’t, I say. I want to ask why. I want to ask why so desperately. But I can’t. Abington Street exchange glances with each other and shrug. They moved closer until I can’t hold the bowl anymore. It falls to my feet and spills across my shoes, and I cannot move my knife, they are holding me so tight. Like an anaconda.

Like a snake. A monster.

Gulping down a breath, I shut my eyes as they press me into the earth and pull me down with their bodies.

I was so wrong. There is not a monster that lives on Abington Street.

There are monsters.