#I suddenly become aware my toes are touching

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Ugh why do my hands feel so bad

[thesilmarillionblog]

A Sweet Distraction

Summary: When you're in a club, you have to make sure Soldier Boy stays out of trouble and doesn't draw attention of other people while Butcher and the boys look for Payback members. Whatever it takes, you have to keep him busy and distracted.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language, Soldier Boy being a dick, violence

Word Count: 1704

A/N: English is not my first language.

You put on modest makeup, adjusted your outfit, and gave Butcher a brief glance in the mirror as you prepared to go out with the most dangerous and unpredictable supe alive to keep him distracted. Although he was aware of your fear of Soldier Boy and your lack of desire to spend as little time as possible with him, Butcher believed that you were the only person fit for this dreadful task. You already felt bad about accepting Butcher's suggestion after learning about Soldier Boy's outburst and everything.

“Hey, I know you're new here, but while we're away, it might be best if a lady kept him in check. Don't misunderstand me, lovely.” Butcher remarked, placing his hand on your shoulder to encourage confidence in you. You sighed with acceptance at that. 

You reluctantly said, “Fine,” as if you had the option to say ‘no.’

“Oi, I'm not making any sort of suggestion, you know. I just ask that you keep your eyes on him.” 

“I know, I know,” you quickly answered as your cheeks started to blush. 

You were assigned your first job, but it seemed like your last mission because Butcher, who called you "his boys" only a week prior, forced you to join his team. Being aware of Solider Boy's reputation for uncontrollable explosions, you made every effort to stay away from him during your first week. There didn't seem to be any way to get in touch with him, though. Either Soldier Boy himself would be the cause of your death, or Butcher.

“Don't misjudge him; as long as he drinks and fucking sniffs his cocaine, he won't cause a scene. You'll be alright, I promise. He's not all that miserable.”

Even if you had doubts about Butcher's belief in his own remarks, you nonetheless nodded to him.

“Alright. Yes, indeed, I understand.” You muttered to Butcher. “I can handle this,” but in reality, you were talking to yourself.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed while clapping his hands. He was glad you avoided arguing with him. “My car is yours, and we'll get the van. Let's not keep Soldier Boy waiting around much longer.”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, your heart raced, and you took a sip of whiskey from the closest table.

You entered Soldier Boy's room, where a massive amount of cocaine was on his table, and he was already getting high. You did your best to avoid staring at his massive, well-muscled chest while he was somewhat naked. You were afraid that weed use would increase his nervousness levels or something, or worse, cause him to become even more unstable. You were waiting quietly beside Butcher, wanting to say something about the current state of things, yet you uttered nothing. 

“Hey, are you prepared to enjoy yourself in the modern world?” Butcher inquired in a lighthearted manner.

You retreated a step as he approached you, asking, "With her?" with a grin on his face as he examined you from head to toe after standing up from his chair. 

“Buddy, don't be harsh on her; she's already scared of you.” Butcher spoke firmly, and he added, “Y/N will just be your company tonight while me and my boys look for your most devoted teammates. She is one of us.”

You turned your back as your cheeks became red while Soldier Boy raised his eyebrows and turned back to Butcher. He proceeded to smoke while pulling down his sweatpants suddenly and putting on a shirt over his bare chest. 

“I wouldn’t try,” Soldier Boy said as he changed his clothes. “She better take me to a good fucking place. I’m sick of staying in this fucking room.”

“That is not anything to worry about for you.” You all left the room as Butcher murmured.

You and Soldier Boy arrived at one of the most well-known and weird clubs, which was primarily packed with supes, after having nothing at all to talk about while driving. Soldier Boy's mouth curled into a satisfied smile as you became extremely nervous.

As soon as you two walked into the club, he said, “Not bad.”

If you were a supe, you would find it much easier to adjust to the environment and everything, but you weren't, and if you pissed someone off, they could kill you in a second. That's why you got a drink right away and followed Soldier Boy everywhere.

He removed the drug from one of his pockets and said, “I wonder if there is a fine chick to fuck,” before turning to face you. “All the sperm feels heavy in my balls though I jerked off at least five times, fuck.”

You said to yourself, "Oh, god," as he continued to spit filthy words.

He turned to face you, licked his lips, and gave you a smile that was so inviting that it stopped you in a moment.

He asked, “What happened now?” as if you were exaggerating. “I thought you all wanted to take away my attention.”

As you were going to say something unpleasant about his actions, you remembered what Butcher had said and changed your mind.

“It is not important.” You sipped your drink and kept an eye on the folks in the crowd who were getting wild, intoxicated, and dancing, and you added, “Everything's fine.”

Soldier Boy smirked as he saw your shy demeanor and chose to focus on you briefly before giving someone a hard and deep fuck. He may even attempt to get you to open you spread your legs for him so he can give you a satisfying fuck. Your bashful demeanor made him wonder if your pussy was as tight as he thought it was.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, you know,” Soldier Boy said and he gave you another inviting look.

You muttered, “How is that even possible? After all, you are a supe on cocaine with PTSD.”

Even though you felt bad right away for speaking out loud, he only laughed at your harsh remarks and replied, “Touche.”

You asked him with an uneasy smile, “Are you having fun?”

"Well, sweet thing, I'll start having fun as soon as my dick disappear into some really tight pussy.”

You muttered, “Okay, okay,” cutting him off from continuing. You took a deep breath, muttered, “You keep having fun, I will be around,” and hurriedly moved away from his side.

You just hoped that the night would end soon enough for you as you faded into the crowd. Should you get through this night without injury, you vowed to spit hate in Butcher's face. 

You chose to watch Soldier Boy from a distance, so you made some space between you and tried not to pay attention to the bizarre and frightening behaviors of the people around you. It appeared to be a massive freak show. You couldn't determine which club was worse, Herogasm or this one. 

As you locked eyes with Soldier Boy, you noticed that his lethal green eyes were already bound to you, as though you were some kind of prey to be pursued. He frowned as he moved to approach you through the chaotic crowd, and you gasped. Perhaps you were just making things up in your thoughts, and he was just staring at someone else. You tried pushing some people and finding a quieter place to avoid him.

But the person you might have shoved hard turned around and yelled, “Why the fuck are you pushing my fucking back?” to you. He became increasingly enraged after you muttered an apology, saying, “Why do they even let ordinary people get in here? You only bring difficulty upon yourselves, fuck.”

Once more, you pleaded, hoping to get out of there without stirring up any more tension. “I sincerely apologize.”

You moaned in agony as the supe's large hands gripped your arm tightly. It was not as if he would give up. You should never have accepted Butcher's suggestion in the first place.

But happily, Soldier Boy's stronger hands grabbed the strangers tightly, saving them from a terrifying situation in an instant and giving them a sense of happiness. If not, it appeared unlikely that you would survive to escape this strange club. As Soldier Boy turned to face the supe stranger and shot you a glare, you touched your arm with a painful moan.

“Is it that, you fuckface, your micropenis gets hard for the weak? You wanna play the big bad tough guy?” Soldier Boy asked angrily as his hands tightened a rough, quick grip around the other man's throat. He wasn't allowing the other supe to say anything. With feeble mutterings, he was urgently attempting to free himself from Soldier Boy's brutal hold.

“Please, don't cause any trouble,” you urged, touching Soldier Boy's big arm. Despite your attempts to calm him down, he continued to tighten his hold even after the supe kept apologizing. 

“No,” he angrily said. “I found a way to have fun. This fucking cocksucker is going to die.”

You tried to get him to move by saying, “Please, stop,” but it was obviously impossible. You panickedly muttered, “Oh, no,” as you noticed his chest suddenly glowing. 

He clinched his mouth, trying to control his chest and halt what was about to happen, but Soldier Boy threw him between the crowd and he growled, “Stay away.”

 You knew that you wouldn't make it to the exit between all the chaos and supes before Soldier Boy exploded, so you disregarded his warnings, softly cupped his neck, and placed your cold lips on his warm ones, hoping to surprise him with your unexpected move and calm him down a little.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated.

-`♡´-

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 176 }

marked by you.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: yet another late night thirst post; minors don’t interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: Reader who frets about the scratch marks that she creates on Jinwoo's back and keeps apologizing for it x Jinwoo who loves it. Too bad he heals quickly. Oh, what shall he do? Guess he has to take em again on bed n rail em hard so he can get those marks again 😼

when you and jinwoo got ready for bed that night, you were simply brushing your teeth as jinwoo got out of the showers. as you rinsed your mouth before drying it with a towel, your eyes trail over to your lover, only for your gaze to go wide upon seeing what looked like deep red claw marks against his back.

you were flustered now, heart pounding as you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks in response. softly calling out his name, you step closer to him, gently tracing at the prominent marks with your fingertips.

feeling jinwoo stiffen from beneath your soft touch, a tiny gasp of pain was heard, filling you with a deep sense of guilt.

“honey? what is it? what are you looking at?”

you didn’t answer him, choosing instead to place kisses against his back where your deep scratches were seen. letting out a sigh, you lean closer to his broad back before pressing even more kisses against those painful marks.

“i’m sorry, for hurting you.” only when you gently lick away at them did jinwoo lose his absolute mind. feeling your tongue innocently tracing at those angry red marks- the memory of them being caused by your nails raking down his back with each and every one of his thrusts makes jinwoo lose all sense of his inhibitions.

silently, jinwoo purposefully drops the damp towel from his waist, making you gasp when he suddenly faces you, trapping you against the bathroom sink. a devious smirk paints his handsome features as he teasingly rubs his erection across your inner thighs. groaning at the silky feel of them, he continues to further harden his cock for you, basking in your breathy moans as your arms automatically came up to wrap around his neck.

“my sweet and darling treasure, always so considerate of me.” jinwoo’s voice darkens just the tiniest bit, leaning in to bite down against the shell of your ear while whispering hedonistic phrases to you.

“the way you rake your nails down my back is actually one of my greatest treasures. whenever i catch a glimpse of them, i get so hard, remembering just how deep i got inside of you- so deep that it made your toes curl and your hands claw against my back…”

“ah…!” you feel him move aside your panties with one hand, massaging his cock beneath your soaking core as he collected your arousal with his velvety cock, sliding the tip of it in and out of your slickness as he purposely drove you crazy for him.

you were dimly aware of the faint, golden glow that surrounds jinwoo, eyes becoming dilated as he peered down at you. “oh…? would you look at that. i’m all healed-“

“i guess this means i just have to get new marks from you now.”

without giving you a warning, jinwoo shoves his cock deep inside of you, making you see stars as your walls cling tightly to him in a vice grip. while jinwoo fucked you against the bathroom sink, you were slowly losing bits and pieces of your sanity. your hands were already reaching toward his muscled back, clinging to him as you curled your nails against his skin.

“fuck.” he lets out a harsh whisper of your name, sliding his cock all the way out of your soaked core before shoving himself back in, purposely rubbing against your swollen bundle of nerves in the process. pretty droplets of tears were felt settled against your eyelashes as you fought to even think straight.

when you nearly fell to the ground, jinwoo keeps you steady by placing both hands possessively over your waist, bouncing you up and down his cock with a feral grunt. with this new angle, you could feel how deep he was hitting that special spot inside of you, making you cry out as you locked your legs around his waist, climaxing immediately around him. jinwoo could feel your juices staining at his cock, making him lose all coherent thought while continuing to ram himself in and out of you.

“that’s it, fuck, that’s it…!” jinwoo watches with wide eyes, seeing the familiar clear fluid travel down the length of his erection before burying himself inside of your sweet cunt, his cock pulsating as he released everything he had inside of you.

a choked moan was heard coming from your perfectly parted lips, your nails once more latching on to his skin for support, nearly drawing blood in the process as jinwoo let out a loud groan. he weakly thrusts in and out of you, making sure that he had completely emptied himself before resting his head on your damp shoulder.

you were breathing heavily now, slowly smoothing the palm of your hand down his back, feeling the imprint of your deep scratches against his skin. “oh…oh!”

your gasp turns into a surprise one when you feel your lover growing inside of you, filling you once more as he meets your gaze with his own. an expression of lust and adoration overtakes jinwoo’s handsome features when he suddenly carries you, bringing your back against the bathroom wall. with a pant, jinwoo continues stroking his cock in and out of you as you let out even more cries of his name in response.

“hn, i’m still not quite satisfied with the marks you’ve given me. how about we spend the whole night like this and you can mark me as much as you want?”

you let out a weak moan and attempt to glare at him, but the way you seemed to tighten around him lets him know just how eager you were to do just that.

a.n. - i’m thirsty. all of my jinwoo readers are thirsty. so i did something about it. 🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[planet-marz1]

my little love

post-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel welcome your baby girl into the world warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. no use of y/n, references to childbirth (non graphic), pregnancy, established relationship, reader does not have a specified age, no descriptions of reader's physical appearance, mentions of child loss (brief, non-descriptive), minor angst wc: ~750 a/n: After taking a very long (unintentional) break from writing, I was able to get this sweet little oneshot completeted after what felt like an eternity. It's meant to take place in the Our Little Sheep universe, but it can be read as a standalone. Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading! baby name inspired by my lovely em @catchallfangirl (she bullied me into it shh)

| main masterlist | ao3 link | updates blog |

A girl.

Your little girl.

Any self-doubt of your capabilities is immediately washed away the moment you lay your eyes on your daughter. Ten little fingers, ten little toes.

She’s absolutely perfect.

A wave of joy and relief washes over the room as you and Joel share a glance of sheer happiness. You reach out, your arms trembling with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration, as the midwife carefully places your daughter in your embrace.

With a delicate touch, you cradle your daughter against your chest, feeling the weight of her tiny, perfect body in your arms. The room falls away, and time seems to pause as you marvel at the miracle of new life. Tears of joy stream down your cheeks as you look into her eyes, meeting the gaze of the little one you've carried for months.

Joel, equally captivated, leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning his attention to your daughter. As you cradle your daughter against your chest, a flood of emotions surges through you. 

She has Joel’s eyes, but everything else about her appearance is all you. Every moment you spend looking at her is like staring back at your own reflection. You can’t help but fall in love with her. Brown eyes staring up at you, a pair you’ve fallen in love with once before.

“I can't believe she's here,” you whisper, your voice catching with a mixture of exhaustion and elation.

Joel sits beside the tub, sharing in your emotional moment and stroking your arm gently, but he’s quiet. More than usual. You glance up at him, and his eyes are starting to glisten with tears.

He’s brought back in time decades in the past. To the first time he laid eyes on her. Soft dark brown curls, and big brown eyes staring back at him. Little baby Sarah. The name he and Sarah’s mom had settled on last minute after months of going back and forth. Scared would be an understatement for his emotions. This tiny little human being, suddenly relying on him for everything. Love, affection, comfort, protection, guidance. The list goes on and seems insurmountable. He’s so young.

He can’t help but feel guilty for his life now. All the time that’s passed since that fateful night that he witnessed his daughter take her last breath. Now he sits next to you, watching yet another little soul who will rely on him for everything, be brought into this world.

He doesn’t want to fuck it up this time. He can’t. He won’t be able to forgive himself this time if he fails again.

“She's perfect, just like her mom," he manages to choke, his voice filled with admiration and love.

Your daughter, swaddled in soft blankets, nestles closer to your chest, finding comfort in the familiar sound of your heartbeat. Her presence is a miracle that unfolds in every breath, every tiny movement, and every flutter of her eyelids.

You can’t believe she’s yours. You and Joel combined into one tiny little human being.

As you hold her close, you become acutely aware of the weight of responsibility mingled with the sheer joy of parenthood. The fragility of her life, nestled in your arms, is a reminder of the trust and love that will shape your journey together.

You find solace in the gentle rhythm of your daughter's breaths. The tiny fingers that grasp onto yours create a connection that transcends the physical.

You, still teary-eyed, glance at Joel, and together you share a silent acknowledgment of the depth of the love that has brought you to this moment.

“What should we name her?” you ask quietly.

How exactly do you pick out a name? Something that will define someone, and follow them around for their entire life. You had given Joel several suggestions, all of which he quickly turned down, and any of the names he had suggested you couldn’t stand at all.

He shrugs, while stroking your arm gently. “You went through all the hard work of getting her here. Figure s'only fair if you pick her name.”

You glance down at the squirming newborn in your arms. “How about Emilie?”

“Emilie?”

You look back up at him and nod. “It’s simple, sweet.”

He smiles, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Emilie it is, then.”

You both know this journey won’t be easy, but you wouldn’t want to navigate it with anyone other than each other.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @honeyedmiller @bastardmandennis @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @alwaysmicado @cherubispunk @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @vee-bees-blog @josephquinnswhore @worhols @bluebeary-jay @pamasaur

[blueparadis]

Head empty just needy chigiri, whimpering at every teasing feather light touch chigiri, falls apart at your fingers in his hair moaning when you fucking pull his hair chigiri, needs you right fucking now chigiri-

❝ SAY PLEASE ❞ + CHIGIRI HYOMA.

+. CWs —» f!reader, established relationship, flirting, power dynamics, s&d dynamics, cunnilingus, sensory deprivation, c*m-play; word count —0.9k

+. NOTES —» the way I read this and sat infront of my laptop...yep totally normal about him. !!!!! you can read my works via NAVIGATION LINKS.

The first thing Chigiri did after taking a bath was always to lay down on the couch, and watch his play recordings while sneaking glances at you, watching you all busy in the kitchen or humming and talking to your mom over the phone.

You might not be aware but he is mindful of you all the most minor things about you, the pout you do when you’re talking to your dad is different when you’re arguing with your cousin; he notices, all of it; that might have led him to make an exception today. 

Hyoma’s cold wet hands slipped under your top mercilessly as you were busy in the kitchen, his nose grazing the back of your nape, his wet hair tickling your collar as a shiver coarse through your spine. You protest, feebly, “Wh-what’re you doing, Hyoma? I would have hurt myself.”

You shove away his hands and then go back to chopping the vegetables at that very instant. He begrudgingly pulls away but doesn’t leave the place instead he turns on his heel, leans against the countertop, and silently gazes at you crossing his arms as you pay him no heed.

He thinks he could do this all day whereas you cannot; you cannot bear this pin-drop silence accompanied by his piercing stares. “Oh, God! What is it?”, you finally pitch in rolling your eyes out earning slightly puffy cheeks from him.

You secretly blame the dry fruits he was munching. “Nothin’ babe.”, he coos as he finishes the last chew. You scoff and turn around to fetch water for him but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, this time his hands going straight to your chest, your nipples. “Fuck, you sca-ared me.”, you huff. 

When you shift your gaze on him with the intent of shooing him away but all that defence melts away the moment you lock eyes with him.

“Did I really?”, he whispers softly against your lips. Your lips part in anticipation of a kiss yet you tend to believe that it is his rough, cold hands roaming all over your body. It is hard to differentiate, really.

“Um-hm.”, you respond curling your arm around his nape, through his hair strands, lips entangling with each other, body gradually turning under the influence, and suddenly you feel him moaning into your mouth, hands squeezing your curves, muscles, and ass-cheeks. There is something about the way he touches you today, it feels relaxing rather than devouring. His touches feel tired but he is not. 

Chigiri turns your body against him swiftly, his hands on your waistline, and your hands on his naked chest. He chases your lips and you keep moving away until he rests his head against your neckline, chuckling, and saying, “Y/n, what’re you doing?” You put your index on his wet lips saying, “Nothin’ babe.”, quirking an eyebrow and earning a click of the tongue followed by a smirk from him. 

“So, you wanna do this in a long way?”, he utters meekly as he kisses your pointing finger, eyes closing as he sucks it in. You let out a long sigh watching him suck once your finger and then you rub his lips, rough enough to earn a gasp.

He squeezes you in more making you graze against his groin, letting you feel his hard-on. “Ya’know we’ve guest- “Yeah! I know”, he finishes your sentence pushing you against the counter so as to go down on him.

But you stop him; grab his wrist so as to guide him to the wetting warmth in between your thighs. “Fuck, babe. You’re so wet.”, he rasps. His fingers skillfully rubbing your entrance making your toe curl, mouth open ajar, and breathing becoming irregular.

Your hands run over your body from over your belly to your waist to your boobs grabbing them as he slows down the pace of his fingers. He has not even put it in, not yet.

But watching you arch Chigiri’s lips involuntarily crash against yours. His slick fingers travel back, under your top so as to support you while his other hand desperately slips into your pussy making you jolt and bite his lip in turn. Generally, he pulls away when you bite him, on his lips but today he sucked your lips, biting and then slowly releasing. 

His eyes never leave yours, even if you cannot seem to maintain eye contact throughout. He quickens his pace of fingers as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, muttering, “Today.. I missed you, ya’know. at the game.ya’aren’t there…” and he trails off as your soft palms that were rested on his chest, slowly travels to his shoulders, gripping and scratching as he keeps fingering you; murmuring, “i wanted to see you. give you the taste of victory ya’know.” 

You lick your lips as one of your hands aids to his bulge. The moment you touch his cock, and curl your fingers around his member, his pace grew stronger.

You slowly stroke him, making him whimper, moan and not speak anymore. your palm skims through his hair to pull him in, for a kiss but he is fast and more precise than you. Moaning into his mouth, you grip his hair strands as you relish in your orgasm. 

Chigiri doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of the hand he has on the valley of your waist, not until you open your eyes, release his hair, and watch his lovesick eyes glued on you. “Fuck, baby.”, he utters as he licks his fingers saying, “play with my hair when I go down on you next time.”

—

@tokyometronetwork

[kpopsexstories]

jist recently found out about your acc and WOAH I NEED IT especially the jisung gay one my bottom ass was LIVID now i need a dream version where they treat me like their pocketpussy cause of the dating ban and cause they cant for the life of them have a girl 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i am ready for all 7

Wow, this made even me blush 🤭 Are we doing this? Yes, we are doing this 😄 Let's move on from Jisung, to Heachan...

NCT Dream Dating Ban #2: Haechan

NCT Haechan can’t date girls. As his gay friend you help him out with his sexual needs (*Requested*)

Content Warning! This is a 100% gay story. Check out this post for my straight smut or this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: Top NCT Haechan x Bottom male reader

Content: Blowjob, Haechan fucks you from behind against a couch

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 3.6k

Click here to read the previous 'Dating Ban' story with NCT's Jisung.

You're on the couch of the NCT Dream communal living room. Haechan is lounging beside you, with bare legs and his feet brushing against your thigh. He's in a dark hoodie and really short shorts.

He's focused on the TV too, but you can swear that he's glanced at you several times since you started the movie. You can sense it in the corner of your eye. His feet have gradually moved closer to you.

They poke your thigh as Haechan stretches out. No biggie. You may be Jisung's best friend, but you're on good terms with all of the boys and feel like you know them pretty well. It actually feels good that they can be so comfortable in your presence.

Haechan suddenly lifts his bare feet and puts them in your lap. You instinctively turn to look at him.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say and smile at him. You rest your hand on his ankle.

You sit like this for a while, and you can swear Haechan is looking at you again. You become fully aware of it as he appears to keep staring for quite some time.

You begin to stroke his leg. The skin is nice and smooth. Gradually, your strokes get longer. You go to his toes and all the way up to his knee.

Until you reach his thigh. It feels thrilling to touch the man like this, and you're getting closer and closer to sensitive parts. Though he was first to test your boundaries, you wonder at what point he will find your touching weird.

When Haechan doesn't move or stop you, and you keep feeling his gaze upon you, you finally turn to face him.

“Is it true that you and Jisung had sex?” he asks when you look him in the eye.

The question surprises you. You had thought that was something Jisung would want to keep a secret.

“Did he tell you that?” you ask and laugh.

“Yeah. Is it true?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yes,” you finally admit.

Haechan smiles faintly at you, then adds: “You know, he's not the only one with a dating ban…”

There's no point in dancing around the subject. You've been around, sexually that is, and you can sense where this is going. Haechan's feet near your crotch, your hand on his bare thigh, his curiosity and questions. They must mean something. And yes, if asked, you wouldn't say no to Haechan.

You giggle. “Are you horny?” you ask and let your hand wander higher still. Your fingers are almost touching the bottom of his shorts.

Haechan decides not to dance either. “Yes,” he says.

“Do you want to have sex?” you ask.

“Yes,” Haechan replies.

You smile at the man crookedly. “Haechan… Are you gay?”

“No. But neither is Jisung.”

Fair point, you think. I love this dating ban.

“I'm not some sex toy for you to play with,” you point out.

“Is that a no then?”

Uh-oh, I'm losing him. “I didn't say that.”

“What's it like anyway?” Haechan asks.

“What's what like?”

“Sex with another man.”

You smile wide, turn your body and fold a leg under you as you scoot up on the couch. “Oh, it's wonderful,” you say and lean on your elbow on the backrest of the couch. “An asshole is so much tighter than a pussy.”

Haechan's eyes widen. “Isn't it disgusting?”

“I mean, it is a hole meant for… something else. But no, not if you clean yourself properly before doing it.”

“Doesn't it hurt?”

“It can. But it's individual. It usually doesn't hurt me.”

Haechan gives you a teasing smirk. “Because you're so used to it?”

What he's implying is rude, but it isn't wrong. You've always been promiscuous. You decide to laugh at the joke. “That might be part of it. But I've always been able to take a dick, no problem.”

A moment's pause follows. Then Haechan finally does ask what you've been hoping he'll ask: “Will you take mine?”

Yes! you think. “Hmm, I don't know,” you say, but really only just to tease him back.

Haechan's smile fades and you realize that you might lose him again. To keep the sexual conversation going, you add: “You wouldn't find it disgusting?”

“Are you clean?”

“Always.”

“Then no. Look, last night I fucked a peach. That's how sexually frustrated I am.”

“Gee, such a romantic,” you say and laugh. “I feel so flattered.”

Haechan reaches out and slaps you playfully on the arm. You laugh and jolt, and when you lean back down your hand slides even higher up Haechan's thigh. This time, your fingers reach all the way inside the shorts.

“Alright,” you say. “I'll have sex with you. If that's what you want.”

Haechan's eyes widen again, and his smile is bigger than ever. “Yes!” he says eagerly.

Blowjob starts here…

Without saying anything else you scoot closer to him. You reach all the way in with the hand. You feel the bottom of Haechan's underwear and stick your fingers inside them.

His dick is already growing and he feels a tingle between his legs. You find the dick and touch it, then wrap your fingers around the shaft. It grows to full size in your hand.

Haechan keeps looking at you, and you at him. You stare at each other until you stroke the cock and Haechan closes his eyes, as lust and pleasure takes hold of his body.

He opens his mouth and inhales deeply, then breathes out slowly.

“Does it feel good?” you ask.

“Oh yeah,” Haechan moans. He pulls himself a little higher on the couch.

You follow, half way laying down beside him to reach the cock. You take your arm off the backrest and go for the top of Haechan's shorts.

Slowly, you begin to slide them down. He lets you, and even lifts his ass slightly to aid you.

“How long do we have before the others are back?” he suddenly asks and opens his eyes.

“At least another hour. Don't worry, I have a feeling you'll be done long before then.”

Haechan stares at you as the shorts slide down his hips. You lift his underwear to free his dick, and look on with anticipation as it appears. He pulls his hoodie up to give your hands more space.

You can hardly believe that Haechan is letting you do this, that the straight man wants this, and that, if this is going where it appears to be going, you'll have sexually pleasured two of the Dream team members in two days.

You let go of the dick to pull the shorts all the way down. Haechan lifts his hoodie even higher, revealing his soft tummy. Soon enough, he's laying half naked in front of you while you jerk him off faster.

You wonder where his limits lie. A hand job is one thing, but what would he feel about a blowjob? You decide to find out. You know that you're an excellent sucker, and once Haechan has gotten a taste of that he simply won't be able to say no. You've got him exactly where you want him.

You lean all the way down while looking at him for a reaction. He's got his eyes closed again though and can't see your approach. You decide to act swiftly.

You open your mouth wide and put the full length of the shaft inside it. You build up a significant amount of saliva, then slowly drag your lips upwards, tightly sealed around the cock.

“Holy fuck,” Haechan exclaims when you wet his dick.

You stick out your tongue and play around with it. “You like it?” you ask when the head falls out of your mouth again.

“Oh my God,” Haechan moans. He puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it hard. “Yes, don't stop.”

What ensues is a most wonderful blowjob, something Haechan has never experienced before in his life. You have, and you take great pleasure in making the man squirm and moan in front of you.

The blowjob is short though. You lick, kiss and suck for almost a minute, until Haechan is so overcome with the pleasure you spawn in him that he pulls your hair.

“Stop,” he suddenly exclaims. Then he repeats the word, a little calmer when your head becomes frozen in place. “Stop. You're gonna make me come.”

You release the cock and look at him with a smirk. “Isn't that the point?” you ask.

“Yeah, but didn't Jisung get to fuck you?”

“He did. You want that too?”

Haechan looks at you with puppy eyes. “Yes,” he almost whispers.

You work hard to contain your excitement. This is insane! Calmly, you sit up straight and hold out your hand.

Haechan takes it and you both stand up. He follows you, but then pulls your arm when you attempt to lead him into Jisung's bedroom, where you're sleeping during your week-long visit.

“Wait,” he says. “I want to do it here.”

“On the couch?” you ask and raise your eyebrow.

“In the living room. It's not often we have the place to ourselves like this. I want to take full advantage of that.”

“Alright,” you say with a smirk. You let go of the hand and playfully grab Haechan's hard dick. “I'll be right back.”

You turn around and leave the man standing there, half naked and a little confused. You go to Jisung's room to grab a tube of lube from your bag, then disappear into the bathroom.

You smile to yourself when you wonder what Haechan is doing right now. You've left him hanging, and he must wonder what's taking so long.

Let him wait, you think. This is fun.

When you return to the living room, Haechan has taken his shirt off. He's sitting naked on the couch with a pillow covering his crotch. Maybe a part of him is worried that the boys will come home earlier than expected, and he wants to hurry up.

You have the same worry. “Are you sure we shouldn't go to the bedroom?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Just relax.”

You scoff, then giggle. You should be the one who's helping him relax.

With the tube of lube in one hand you hold out the other. Haechan takes it, removes the pillow from his dick and stands up.

“So how…” he begins, but you interrupt him. You pull him closer and kiss him on the lips.

Shit, I shouldn't have done that, you think. But Haechan doesn't seem to mind.

Your eyes meet and you smile softly at each other. Your hand falls down his side and grabs the still hard cock. Then you take his arm and guide it, to the front of your pants.

“Take them off me,” you whisper.

To your delight Haechan is quick to comply. He undoes the button and pulls down the zipper.

With your pants half open, you walk to the side of the couch. You gently pull Haechan's arm to encourage him to go with you. You stand facing the couch and lean on the armrest with one hand, guiding Haechan to go behind you with the other.

You put his hand on your hip, then yours on the couch. You spread your legs slightly and straighten your spine, bending your body in an almost ninety degree angle.

“Take them off,” you say and turn your head, to see the man in the corner of your eye. This is a test. You don't want to push him, but want to see if he's willing to work for what he's asked for.

Haechan looks down, grabs the top of your pants and underwear, and slowly starts to pull. The seams round your cheeks and your ass is revealed. He strokes it softly while taking in the sight.

“Here,” you say and hand him the tube. “Put some in your hand and rub it on your dick.”

Haechan seems to take forever. You reaffirm your stance and spread your legs a little more, and move your elbows closer together on the armrest.

Eventually, Haechan returns the tube by holding his hand out beside you. “Done,” he says in a cheerful tone.

You bend your spine and hunch over, to reach in between your legs. You find your asshole and stick a finger in it. Haechan has a hand on your hip, just below your shirt.

“Get closer,” you say. Haechan takes a small step forward, and you feel the dick brush against your cheeks. You reach in even further. “Right here.”

Sex starts here…

Haechan understands the instruction. He takes his cock and puts it near the hole. You stretch yourself with your fingers, until you feel the head press against them. You pout your ass to help Haechan get into position.

When the head is pushing harder against your asshole, you remove your hand and instead reach around your body. You find Haechan's naked ass and pull him closer still. His hand becomes firmer around your hip, and he holds his breath when the slippery cock eventually slides inside.

“Ahh,” you moan, partly to encourage the man. “Oh yeah, fuck me Haechan.”

It does the trick. The hard part is over. If Haechan ever had any reservations – which his initial questions suggest that he did but which his actions seem to prove that he does not – he's already overcome them. Now, all that remains is to make him come, and you secretly hope that he'll go all the way and do so in your ass.

When the shaft is half way in, Haechan begins to rock his hips slowly back and forth. He's still quiet and you wonder what is going through his head. But as he grows comfortable with the sensation, and the reality of what you're doing, he gradually picks up the pace.

“Oh, yes, fuck me,” you moan again, hoping that it will help him feel more relaxed. “Yes, Haechan, fuck me.”

You feel a second hand on your hips, as he grabs you tighter and thrusts a little harder into you.

“Faster,” you encourage. He heeds your words and starts to pull your whole body onto his shaft.

“Yes, that's it,” you say. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Haechan is deep inside you, fucking you fast and hard from behind, grimacing and grunting occasionally while pulling your hair with an arm stretched long above your back. Your legs are spread wide and your head is tilted so far back you face the ceiling. Your eyes are closed and your mouth wide open, and you clench the front of your shirt to hold it up and keep it from falling down onto your ass and Haechan's hands and cock.

“Oh, yes, ahh, fuck me, fuck me!” you almost scream repeatedly. “Yes, yes, ahh, your cock feels so good, yes, Haechan, you're amazing.”

The way you submit yourself to him and allow him to fuck your ass so passionately proves to be an immense turn-on for Haechan. Maybe it's the deeply rooted sexual frustration, caused by the now infamous dating ban, but you'd like to think that the man is not as straight as he might claim to be. Maybe he's hiding it, from the world and maybe even from himself, another possible consequence of strict SM policies and cultural taboos.

Whatever the case, the sex is great. You love Haechan's dick inside you, and judging from his eager thrusts and lustful grunts, he's loving it too. You're surprised by how much he's evolved since you sat on the couch and stroke his legs.

The couch is shaking violently on the floor and you let out another scream. You can hear Haechan pant behind you, as he lets loose and puts and end to God knows how many months of sexual frustration.

He does not get to come, however, before the sex is unexpectedly interrupted.

“What the fuck?” a voice suddenly exclaims.

You immediately stand up straight and grab a pillow to cover your crotch. Haechan pulls you closer, slipping his cock in deeper, as he's trying to hide behind your half naked body.

Chenle is standing in the door. He stares at you with his mouth wide open, then bursts out in an instant fit of laughter.

“Go away Chenle!” Haechan shouts. But rather than pulling out he only holds you tighter and pulls you closer.

Chenle looks away, but doesn't stop laughing.

“Are you alone?” you ask calmly.

“Yeah,” Chenle says. “But I can call the others and tell them to hurry back.”

“Don't,” Haechan pleads. “Please, Chenle. Go to your room.”

Chenle calms himself and looks at the spectacle again. “I mean, I don't want to interrupt your… fun time,” he says and waves his hand as if painting a picture of whatever it is he's witnessing.

“Thank you,” Haechan says, and to your surprise he's not ending the sex right then and there the way you expect him to do. “We're nearly done, just let me finish.”

“Take your time,” Chenle says and walks away. You hear his door closing behind him.

You turn your head and giggle. “What the fuck?” you ask, having just gone through a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

Haechan begins to laugh too. Then you feel his body relax behind you, as he gently pulls up your shirt while slowly thrusting forward, pressing his pelvis against your ass cheeks.

“Wait, you don't want to stop?” you ask, genuinely confused by the situation. “Shouldn't we?”

“Why?” Haechan asks. “It's only Chenle. He's already seen us anyway, so what's the point? You don't want to help me?”

You scoff at the remark. What does the man think you're doing? But hey, if he wants to continue, you don't want to back out now either.

So you reach behind your head and push on Haechan's neck. His cheek brushes against yours as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms around your chest and stomach, gliding them all over your body and inside your shirt.

Gradually, his gentle thrusts begin to pick up the pace again, and you suddenly feel the need to be completely quiet. There's no more screaming or violent thrusting, only shallow breaths and gentle moans, as you pull your shirt higher and Haechan holds you tighter.

His thrusts remain slow but hard. He takes his time when he pulls back, but jolts each time he thrusts hard and fast back in. He repeats the sequence, a little faster and harder each time.

You open your mouth again and tilt your head back. Still with your hand on his neck you moan softly each time he hits you, and his cock is jammed inside you.

You feel his breath on your skin and hear him panting by your ear. You don't want this to end, but know that any of the others could return at any moment. Or Chenle might grow weary of staying in his room.

“Oh yeah, come for me baby,” you say, partly to encourage Haechan to finish.

He stops moving his hands and buries his face in your neck. He holds you tight around the chest while thrusting hard. He keeps going at a steady pace, until he's finally brought over the edge.

“Ah, yes, come for me,” you whisper when he holds his breath and plants his lips on your skin. ”Come inside me.”

Haechan eventually jolts a final time, and you can tell that it's the finish line from the way he grunts and suddenly digs his fingers into your skin.

He erupts inside you, releasing his load in a powerful explosion. He hasn't been this horny and felt such a strong orgasm since before the last time he had sex. Or maybe ever, at least you'd like to believe that. Regardless, the long period of sexless existence is over for him, or at least reset at zero.

“Ahhh,” he sighs deeply when he's finished, and his body comes down from his orgasm.

“Mm,” you moan. “Holy shit, you're so good Haechan.”

You can feel his smile against your skin. “No, you are,” he says softly. “Thank you.”

You turn your head to kiss his cheek. “You're welcome babe.”

Now that it's over, however, you're quick to push him away, encouraging him to pull out. You don't want anyone else to see you, and you wonder how you can explain all this to Chenle.

But then you realize that maybe Chenle is more Haechan's problem than yours. You should probably worry more about Jisung, and what he might think of what you and Haechan have done. You have no idea if your best friend will laugh or get mad, if he ever finds out.

You wonder if you should tell him or not, and whether Haechan will. The boys all seem to be very tight.

For now, you decide to let it go. What's done is done. You release your shirt and pull your pants back up, and help Haechan gather his clothes. He too gets dressed, and when your eyes meet he smiles wide at you.

You smile back. You're happy to be of service, because maybe you wanted this even more than Haechan did. It really was good sex.

“You can come out now,” Haechan suddenly shouts.

“Okay, thanks,” Chenle yells back, but he doesn't open the door.

You sit back down on the couch, and Haechan lays down beside you. You un-pause the movie and Haechan immediately puts his feet in your lap again. You watch in silence while you gently stroke his legs, get fully into the movie, and wait for the boys to return.

Click here to read the previous 'Dating Ban' story with NCT's Jisung.

Click here to buy me a coffee.

[tteokdoroki]

being shy w/ deku under the mistletoe im abt 2 eat cardboard {🦭}

deku is one slick motherfucker !! don’t touch me !!!! mdni.

“what? don’t you wanna kiss me?”

a boyish grin spreads slowly across the number one’s lips as he corners you underneath the mistletoe. the agency party doesn’t stop buzzing around you, no one sparing you or deku a glance while you remain trapped by his arm against the wall and his beefy figure towering over you.

you blink up at him and then to the mistletoe dangling above your heads, with bambi eyes that glisten underneath the twinkling christmas lights— unknowingly making the man weak in his knees. you’re so fucking cute, so shy whenever you’re around him and deku would be a liar if he said your nervous little squeaks didn’t hold some sort of power over him.

“i-i…um,” you stutter, praying to the gods that you don’t pass out because how is it even possible that izuku looks this good. his cherry lips caught between pearly white teeth, hooded green eyes that darken with smoke from the forest fire of affection when he looks at you. his hair curls perfectly over stardusted, honeyed freckles that decorate his cheeks and you swear you’re already seeing the pearly gates when deku smiles at you again. “i-it’s not that i don’t want to…it’s just that, y-you’re my boss?” your shoulders flinch as if you’re questioning your own words. “is that even allowed?”

leaning down, deku cocks his head to the side— pressing you further against the wall. “tell you what, let’s play pretend angel,” he coos condescendingly, reaching up to brush a knuckle over the softness of your cheeks. “just for tonight, we’ll pretend i’m not your boss. and you can kiss me, if you’d like, yeah? how’s that sound?”

of course you want to kiss him, eyes flittering between his gaze and his lips— and before you know it, you’re nodding your head with enthusiasm, letting deku lace his fingers with yours. “y-yeah…okay,” you whisper, free hand settling on the broad middle of his well-built chest. “okay.” repeating the word once more to give yourself some confidence, you stand on your tip toes to press your lips against the number one’s— feeling him instantly melt into the gentle kiss. he’s warm, tastes like the peppermint hot chocolate they serving and waves of dopamine crash over your brain because you’re finally kissing the man of your dreams.

you should probably stop to breathe, pull away before your lungs combust but tasting deku is addictive, your smaller-than-his hands cascading from his chest to his biceps to the baby hairs curling at the back of his neck— tugging the large pro hero closer impossibly closer to you. he hikes your thigh up high on his slender waist, licking at the candy cane flavoured gloss on your lips as if to beg you for entrance. both of you seemingly have forgotten the traditional peck you’re supposed to give each other under the mistletoe.

his tongue presses into the heat of your mouth— your body putty between his calloused fingers as deku’s forest flame consume you whole and you both forget the little Christmas party you’re at. when the need for oxygen becomes too much to bare, the number one hero pinches your waist, pecking your lips once or twice more to lick at the trail of saliva connecting you both. “izuku…” you breathe, head falling back against the wall as you let the hero nose at the side of your face and neck.

“yeah, angel?” he places sloppy smooches along the column of your throat, burning up at the way you say his name.

“this…are we still playing pretend?”

the corners of izuku’s lips twitch up into a soft smirk, pulling your hips to meet his and leaning up from your neck until you’re a breath’s width apart. “oh angel,” he says warmly, brushing the swell of his lips over yours. “this was never pretend for me, can’t you feel how much i want you?” you squeak as he gently grinds his now obvious erection into your soft tummy, suddenly hyper aware of how close you are to pro hero deku.

“if anything,” izuku hums right into your ear next, tugging on your earlobe. “you’re number one on my christmas list this year, and getting you under the mistletoe was just the start.”

[sillyromance]

I feel you heart pounding heavily against your ribs as you lie in my arms, looking me right in the eyes. My stomach rumbles beside you, politely announcing of its emptiness, but don't get tricked. It's almost painful, evil sensation which clenched my insides firmly like vice, turning them inside out while they are struggling with hunger. However, I just smile. You're here not to satisfy me, but yourself. You're small, and sad, and scared. That's OK. There is no shame in that...

I bring you up closer to my face - your skin gets pale as instinctive fear kicks in your veins. I don't hurry; your tiny palms run over my cheeks and lips; I force back the wish to taste your adorable little fingers - they have such a good smell... I ask if you still want me to send you there. After a moment, you nod, still worried but sure about your decision. I smile gently and rub your head in attempt to comfort you, although I know it's not enough. I'm a switch after all; no need to tell me how hard it is to go through this for the first time.

Finally, I open my mouth wide and lift you up to put your feet right on my awaiting tongue. The flavour is... Beautiful; I can't help but exhale with pleasure savouring your skinny, cool ankles. Meanwhile, you're trembling. God, I feel so pity for you! My mind is spinning of misunderstanding, trying to process this controversial information of joy and grief combined together. Regardless, it doesn't take long for me to focus. I lock my attentive gaze on your figure; icy sweat covers your hot, pulsing neck, you're staring down at me with mix of doubt and terror. However, you don't ask me to stop. I play with your legs a little bit more, giving you a chance to get used to the situation, then go for the next level, pushing you in just slightly and making you knees disappear in my maw. You gasp as my teeth accidentally touch your vulnerable skin; I rapidly part them to ease the tension. Your toes wiggle in my pharynx, I have to grant you a pleading look to say it disturbs me, so you hold still. I feel bad for making barriers everywhere for you; I'm aware of horror growing in your chest with every passing moment, but it will be better for both of us if you don't squirm. I promise, I won't hurt you. It'll be over soon.

Well, the point of no return is near. I push you just a bit deeper, like this... Yeah. Now I can catch your limbs with my throat muscles. My grip weakens; I swallow. You faintly shriek. I fondle your back, relaxing your body which has suddenly become hard and solid like a rock, being paralysed with shock. I wait; after some seconds your powerless hand pat on my upper lip, permitting me to continue. Oh, you can't imagine how difficult it is to breathe in this position, to hold my instincts sleeping while even so miserable part of you has been already embraced by my throat... No. Don't think about it. It's fine. I swallow once more, your hips and belly entering my esophagus. My neck pleasantly stretches; my mouth shamelessly waters as I get more of your spicy taste, invisible molecules bursting soundlessly on the surface of my craving tongue. You sense this and shiver, your poor clothes getting instantly soaked in my sticky saliva. But I won't make you uncomfortable for long; glancing at your pretty muzzle one last time, I title my head back and let you simply slide inside, contracting my throat again, tracing you slowly passing every centimetre of it: down, down, down...

At last, I can gift my chest with fresh air. You slipped inside so smoothly that it startles me...

My waist is heavy; cute little lumps are walking around underneath my clothes. You're in my stomach now.

The organ whines with pleasure as abundant meal comes in. You are moving around, trying to find a suitable position in the limited space. I sigh, forgetting about the pangs of starvation at last - the fact I haven't eaten since morning to do this to you is nothing comparing to the heavenly sensation of you being inside my core. Now I'm shaking too. It's impossible to stay straight; I lie down cautiously, putting my hands on the expanded middle, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

You. Are. In. There.

I devoured an alive person. It's so good that it hurts...

You are still nervous; I murmur kind, calming words and caress you within my full belly gurgling gladly at your presence. It's safe within me. I won't digest you. Just look around and see that there is no acid to burn you. You won't get suffocated 'cause you're breathing with me. I won't jostle you with harsh movements. I won't laugh at your helplessness. I'm here to hold you, to listen to your cries, to fight your demons with you side by side.

It's so good that you hear me and settle in. Your warm weight feels unreal and... Perfect. I don't let my arms go away from my abdomen, making them cover the bulge you have created as if I have committed a crime which I should hide now.

You don't need to feel anxious anymore. I have you.

I love you.

[veronicaphoenix]

writing updates ✨

I'm aware I haven't posted anything besides a short one shot in the last few weeks. I've been busy writing my MA's thesis which is due in a couple of weeks, and trying to cope with the chaos that is summer.

I'm just popping by to leave unedited short snippets for both The Unmaking of a Warrior, and the next chapter of Zutto 😇

The Unmaking of a Warrior — Epilogue Pt. 1

I couldn't stop thinking about it since that moment. The realization lingered in my mind, and throughout the day, it haunted me like a secret I was too embarrassed to admit—even to myself.

I wanted to be a mother. I wanted Noah and I to become parents, to bring a life into this world that was a part of both of us. I imagined a little one, a perfect blend of Noah and me, running through the gardens, learning to wield a bow or defend himself with a sword, just like his father.

At lunch, a swarm of butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach, their wings beating in rhythm with the thought of Noah getting me pregnant. My hands trembled slightly as I held my chopsticks, moving them aimlessly across my plate.

"You’re very quiet today," Noah observed, his voice soft yet curious.

I glanced up at him, caught off guard. His eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement, met mine. The faintest smile played at the corner of his lips, as if he knew I was hiding something.

"What’s going on in that little head of yours?" he teased gently.

"Nothing special," I replied quickly, lowering my gaze to my plate.

"Nothing special?" he repeated, not convinced by my response.

"No, nothing," I insisted, shaking my head, hoping to divert the conversation. But Noah wasn’t so easily deterred.

"This wouldn’t have anything to do with your reaction when you saw Lila in my arms, would it?" he asked, his voice laced with a knowing tone.

I felt my cheeks flush. "What? No, of course not."

"Are you sure you’re not having any thoughts about… us?" He leaned across the table, lowering his voice to a whisper, "About me… emptying myself inside of you?"

"Noah!" I hissed, glancing around quickly to ensure no one could hear. My face grew even warmer, and I looked away, mortified.

Zutto — Chapter Six

Lia brushed aside a lock of Noah's hair that threatened to fall over his eyes, and a memory from her teenage years suddenly flooded back. It was one of those weekends when Cristina had abandoned her, leaving her to spend the night at Noah's house. Back then, Noah slept like a log. At seventeen, his passion for music already coursed through his veins relentlessly, and many nights were spent working until he realized he should probably get some sleep and try to be a normal person. The nights he spent with Lia were no different—they would stay up late watching movies or talking. That particular night, she had fallen asleep before him but woke up earlier, giving her the chance to touch his hair while he slept, lightly snoring.

It felt surreal that, eleven years later, the same scene was playing out. Lia was certain he had the same expression, the same features. He still looked like a child, lost in his dreams. She was determined to protect him at all costs, just as he had done for her. It was the least she could do, beyond giving him her love.

Now, as adults, naked, their bodies were pressed together. Noah's chest rose as Lia made a futile attempt to tuck the lock of hair behind his ear. He stirred on the bed, and two more strands of hair joined the one Lia had tried to brush off his forehead, falling over his eyes and causing him to blink.

As soon as he saw Lia's wide eyes looking up at him and that smile that always cured his every ill, he couldn't help but smile back. He was fucking happy to wake up next to the girl he loved, especially with her naked under the sheets.

"Good morning," he murmured.

"Morning," she replied, trying to ignore the tingling sensation at the tips of her toes and the warmth spreading between her legs at the sound of Noah's sleepy, gravelly voice. His eyes, with their distinctly Asian features, looked beautiful in the morning—smaller, like two thin slits.

"You look wide awake. How long have you been staring at me?" he asked. His playful arrogance hinted at a self-assuredness that Lia was all too familiar with.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You've got some nerve," she shot back, equally accustomed to his confident, slightly egotistical humor.

With a burst of energy, he grabbed Lia by the waist and tried to tickle her. She rolled onto her side, giggling, until they were chest to chest, both lying sideways on the bed.

"No more than ten minutes," Lia replied, calming herself as she saw his brown eyes twinkle. "How did you sleep?"

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

What if Fedra and Rhys lost the baby and Nyx did not exist? I want the angstttt

(Also I know this is a sensitive topic, you don’t have to even consider it if it makes you uncomfortable)

Hey there! Thanks for being my first fic request - even if it is a dark one.

To be honest, I've never written angst before so this is new for me and may be very.... not great... but I tried my best at dipping my toes in. I did keep it on the shorter side just because I am learning how to best write angst/despair so feel free to give notes.

That being said, here is my interpretation of if Feyre and Rhys lost their baby and little Nyx hadn't become part of their lives.

Please keep in mind that everyone processes grief differently and this topic is incredibly heavy. Take what you can while taking care of yourself. Be kind and gentle with your mind and body.

Content Warning: Miscarriage/loss of a child

For more fanfics and writings check out my fic blog @a-court-of-fics-and-errors

Feyre sat in the armchair of the sitting room, her chin resting on her knees, curled to her chest. She leaned her head against the back of the chair, her gaze fixed on two raindrops racing down the window. The world outside was still cold as March melted into April, the days blurring together in a relentless, gray march forward. She felt as if time had ceased to hold any meaning.

She watched the smaller raindrop hit a long slide, racing quickly downward. The slightly larger raindrop followed, colliding with the smaller one, absorbing it, and continuing its path until it pooled on the windowsill.

The sitting room was dark, shadows creeping in from every corner, with only the cold, gray light from outside seeping in. Feyre closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in and out, allowing the world to close in around her.

Rhys stood in the entryway to the room, his forearm propped against the doorway as he looked at his mate. She was without color, the soft pinks of her cheeks reduced to a muted gray, her eyes sunken and faded, and her hair lay loosely around her shoulders. Nuala and Cerridwen had bathed her a day or so ago after she’d been sitting in the chair, unmoving. They told him she hadn’t spoken during her bath, only stared ahead, lost in her own mind. He had no doubt she knew he was standing there, but she lacked the strength to turn and look at him.

Rhysand considered breaking the silence, walking in, sitting down, and holding her. But instead, he turned and walked back down the hallway. That's how it seemed they were now, ghosts of each other, passing in the halls and never quite touching.

Rhys turned into his office, papers strewn about everywhere, untidied and listless. He sighed to himself and began gathering papers from the floor, snatching and balling them up, throwing them into the basket. After the first few, the balling and throwing became more intense. He started ripping pages, then stacks of pages, until he was breathing heavily, throwing them across the room, tearing books off shelves in rage, and ripping their spines. He continued until almost every book had been pulled from the shelves, standing in the middle of the room, panting, holding back a sob as he pressed his mouth and chin into his palm.

Azriel cleared his throat, and Rhys whipped around, suddenly aware of his outburst.

Rhys looked around the room and then back to Azriel, who looked nowhere but at him. “Now not a good time?” Azriel finally asked.

Rhys coughed, running his hand through his hair. “No, no, it’s-” he started, “it’s fine.” A pause. “Now is fine.”

Azriel gazed around the room. “You’re sure?”

Rhys moved towards him. “Yes, yes, please, come in.”

Rhys tossed a ripped book off the sitting chair, motioning for Azriel to sit down, which he did. Rhys took his usual spot in the chair across from him, sitting down and leaning forward, his forearms on his knees. Azriel just stared at him. Rhys pulled his lips into his teeth, rubbing his hands together, fidgeting as he waited for his brother to break the silence.

“How are you doing?” Azriel finally asked.

Rhys sniffled slightly before leaning back, running his hands up and down the lengths of his thighs. “I’m fine.”

Azriel looked at him as Rhys continued to fidget. “Are you?”

Rhys sniffled again, his left leg bouncing rapidly as he pressed his hands into his thighs, looking up towards the window where the rain ran down in droves, considering his answer.

Without words, Rhys pulled his lips into his teeth again, looking towards the floor and shaking his head no. Azriel looked at him knowingly. “I know.”

Rhys continued to shake his leg, feeling his eyes burn as tears filled them. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand as he tilted his head to the sky, willing the tears back in and clearing his throat to avoid the sob. “Rhys-” Azriel started, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Azriel leaned forward, bracing himself on his thighs.

Rhysand didn’t respond, still looking towards the sky, pressing his eyes shut as he shook his head back and forth and wiped his eyes.

Azriel continued, “None of us can,” a silent pause, “Losing a child, I-” he paused again, searching Rhys’s face for a response as he continued to bounce his leg and squeeze his eyes shut, “losing a child has to be the biggest heartbreak anyone can feel.”

Rhys, unable to speak, finally opened his eyes to Azriel, who looked at him with such sadness that it caught him off guard. Rhysand sniffled again, trying to find anything to say back. He finally got out, “I just don’t know what to do.”

Another pause, as the world shifted around them and time seemed to stop. “I don’t-” Rhys continued, “I can’t fix this.” He shook his head, casting his eyes to the floor. “I can’t fix this for anyone. I can’t fix it for her. I can’t-” He started to spiral, a sob stopping him as he let his head fall into his hands.

Azriel remained seated across from him, watching the High Lord sob and sob until his cries were merely silent. How could he respond to this? After months of waiting, expecting, and anticipating, of daydreaming and wishing, there had been no babe. Instead, there was a lifeless body, pulled from Feyre too early, and Nesta arriving just slightly too late, only being able to bring back one. No one blamed Nesta. If Feyre had died, Rhysand would have died too. But it seemed as though it was harder to live now than to die then, and Nesta felt responsibility for that, regardless of how much the rest of them had reassured her she had made the right decision.

“There’s nothing to fix,” Azriel finally said.

Rhysand shouted, “There’s everything to fix!” He stared up at his brother, his eyes bloodshot, hands out, almost pleading. “There’s- there’s so many moments I should have done something, said something. I just- it’s my fault it’s like this. I should have said something.”

Azriel never broke eye contact with Rhys as he wailed out the words of blame. “Rhys, you can’t do this to yourself.”

“What else can I do, Azriel? Tell me. What else can I do for her?” Rhysand pointed towards the sitting room where Feyre still sat, hearing the destruction in the office but not having the energy to move and check.

Azriel looked towards the room. “She is grieving. She needs time,” he reassured him.

“She can never forgive me. She will never forgive me,” Rhysand stammered out, dropping his head to his hands once more. “I failed her. I failed both of them.”

Azriel looked at his brother, a father whose child was stolen from him, and would never get to see the world. Rhysand, who had spent every waking moment for the last nine months thinking about this unborn babe, his hands constantly searching for his mate's pregnant stomach, smiling at kicks and praying to whoever was listening at night that both the babe and Feyre be safe. But it seemed the gods had left them.

Rhysand’s frantic eyes looked to his brother for any form of reassurance and Azriel stared back, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly Rhys stood, pushing his palms into his eyes as he sniffled through another sob, releasing a deep exhale. “Azriel,” He finally said, looking down towards him, “How do I move forward? How do I-” he paused, “How do I live like this when it feels like my body is burning alive, and like-” a sob, “like my heart was ripped out of my chest.” He looked towards the sitting room, “I can feel her dying in there, every day. I feel her, her whole body is screaming and tearing itself apart, her mind, it’s-” he brought his hands up, shaking them around his head, “it’s so loud and it’s so hateful, and she blames herself. She’s constantly screaming and she’s shattering and I can’t do anything about it.” He stared at his brother, who remained in the chair. “She hasn’t spoken, she hasn’t said anything since that day and yet inside she’s just screaming.” Rhys pulled back another sob.

“Have you talked to her?” Azriel finally asked.

Rhys looked at him, intensely, “What would I say?” he shook his hands and head in almost disbelief, “What would I say to her?”

Azriel waited, looking around the room before finding his brother's face again, “Anything.”

Rhys shook his head, stifling out another sob and walking to the window to stare out at the rain. From behind him Azriel said, “The world is very bleak for her. And she’s lost, Rhys. And you might not be able to tell her the way back, but you can at least find her in the woods.”

A few tears escaped Rhys’s eyes, sliding down his cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away. Azriel stood, walking towards Rhysand who didn’t turn until Azriel was next to him. Without saying a word, Azriel pulled Rhys into a tight embrace, rubbing his hand up and down his back as his brother sank into him,

letting heavy sobs escape his lips as he choked out wail after wail. Azriel held him, feeling his body rise and fall as he heaved out the incredible sadness kept in the deepest recesses of his body. Azriel held him until Rhys had found exhaustion and had lost all of the tears he could muster. Azriel held him.

Rhys pressed his forehead into Azriel’s shoulder as Azriel pressed a kiss into the side of his head. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

What felt like hours passed in a few minutes before Rhys finally pulled out of the embrace. Azriel took his brother's face in his hands, looking him deeply in his eyes before simply saying, “You have to find her.” Rhys nodded, his eyes shutting as Azriel dropped his hands to his sides, turning and silently leaving.

When Rhys opened them, he was alone in the room, surrounded by the destruction. He wiped his face clean, stifling another few sobs before exiting the office and making his way down towards the sitting room where Feyre sat in the same position he had left her. Mustering up courage, he stepped through the entryway, walking up to her and dropping to his knees in front of her. He reached out to touch her, to take her hand, and when he did she did not grip back.

He ran a gentle thumb down the length of her now bony hand. “I don’t know what to say. And I don’t know what to do.” Rhys finally started after silently searching for the words. Feyre didn’t turn to him, her eyes slowly blinking shut and back open as she continued to watch the rain outside. “I have so many things I wish I could do- I have-” he paused, trying to pull back the tears again, “I have so many things I want to do for you. To help you.” He shook his head, squeezing her hand, “But I can’t. I can’t fix this my darling.” He looked at her, as tears filled her eyes, but she still did not face him. “If I could take away this pain for you I would. If I could do anything, if I could meet with the Mother herself I would fall to my knees and beg her to bring him back to us. I would trade my soul to her just to make this different than it is now.” A single tear fell down Feyre’s cheek as he continued, “I would burn the world for you, my darling, I would-” He paused. “I can feel how you’re breaking, and I know that it hurts. I know that this is unbearable, and I don’t know what to do- I just- I don’t know what to do.” He shook his head, pressing his lips to her hand while he squeezed his eyes shut, tears flowing down them. “I should have done so many things, I should have said something, I should have-” He stopped, “I can’t take it back. I can’t fix it. But my darling, if I could, I would do anything just to bring him back to us. Just to have him here, even for a second.” He let out a sob, which was followed by another and another until he completely let go, “I’m so sorry,” he let out between cries, “I want him back.” Rhys let himself fall back as he pulled his legs to his chest, sobbing into his own hands. Feyre’s hand fell to the chair as tears fell in heavy succession from her own eyes.

“I wish he was here too.” Feyre finally said, her voice cracked and broken. “I want my little baby boy.” And with that she had finally broken. Her body heaved in sobs as she brought her hands to her face. Rhys, eyes wide at her response, finally realized what had happened and rushed to her side, pulling her close as he knelt by her. Her sobs mixing with his as he held her. She continued to repeat, “I want my baby back.”

Rhys pressed his face to her hair as she curled into his chest. “I know, Feyre Darling,” he cried into her quietly, “I want him back too.”

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Tuesday all. Yay for writers strike being over. Now we just need to get the actors a good deal as and we'll get our couple back hopefully soon enough. Or have some kind of premiere on the horizon. Till then let's continue on with our rewatch. :) Getting to the crux is this whole Stanton SL. Their moments get better as we approach the climax of this whole ordeal. We don't have a ton of content but its pretty solid what we do get. Off we go.

3x05 Lockdown

We start out with our couple already in process of booking someone. Lucy is telling Tim that Stanton gave Jackson a blue page with leaving the drugs behind. She see's the guilt wash over him. She immediately stops Tim from blaming himself. Says it’s not his fault. Tim is riddled with guilt regardless and says it is. It was his fault because it was his idea to reach out to Doug's old rookie.

Then Tim sees Stanton enter the building and goes into aggressive protector mode. I’m here for it. If looks could kill oooh boy. That look in his eye is like a fight on sight clause. *fans self* Nothing love more than protective/aggro Tim. Lucy spots where his eyes are going. Quickly tries to deescalate Tim from knocking Stanton out cold immediately. Saying they don’t want to make things even worse for Jackson. Tim doesn’t hold back in the slightest when he comes up to Stanton. Asking if he wants to brush up on any arrest control techniques. Get em Tim. (Tim would've totally owned his ass if they had)

First off I love Lucy trying to ground Tim by touching him. Bringing him back to earth by saying hey we’re on duty… let's go. Doing what she does best by de-escalating him in the moment. He is ready to throw down with this putz. He doesn't care the consequences at this point. Lucy is very aware of this and is trying to head it off as quickly as possible. Doesn't want to risk Tim in the war they are waging against Stanton. She is doing her damndest to protect him from himself in this moment. Then Doug makes his next mistake... Trying to incite Tim by using Lucy and saying very inappropriate things about her.

Tim doesn’t have to step in because Lucy is gonna stand up for her damn self. Goes toe to toe with Stanton. Just like Tim does. Suddenly it's not just Tim. It's Lucy ready to take him down as well. Tells Doug he’s the one who is going to need rescuing. Whew lord This is getting good. Pass me the popcorn. Stanton is messing with the wrong couple. Separate they'll kick his ass. Together? Utter desolation. Fool of a man to try and take them on. Had no idea the hornets nest he just kicked.

Lucy telling Stanton she has a great hair pull takedown she’s been dying to try. LMAO Amazing. Don't mess someone they care about. Tim then becomes the one to ground her with his touch. Having them walk away before either of them do something they’ll regret. The fact that both of them wanna kick his ass in this moment is *chef kiss*. Best part is their natural instinct to protect one another.

Could care less about themselves but always instinctively shield the other. God I love them. Let's talk about how casual and natural they are about the touching to calm each other. Especially in front of others. My heart. Friggin love how they both wanna take Stanton down but also want to protect the other. Lucy calmed Tim down and then when Doug went after Tim through Lucy he had to be the one to calm her down. What a pair these two.

Tim can't help but give her crap about going after Stanton after she made him stand down. Lucy cracks me up with her testosterone line. How she got a contact high off of it LOL It was that and she was protecting both of the men in her life. The most important relationships to her. He threatened both in one moment and she was not going to have it. Ugh so good. Great opening scene for them hot damn. I will take this kind of content all day.

They follow up with a hilarious scene with the girl they booked. She’s asking for the bagels she stole back. The balls on this chick my god. Tim tells her they’ve been disposed of. She goes on saying how bad that is for the environment. His eye roll and his head tilting back LMFAO. I love this man so much your honor. He's in no mood to deal with this person. Lucy steps in and offers some logic to her ‘whole ethos’ Adore her stepping in and trying to run interference for Tim.

They’re both so over this girl by the end of their interaction I’m dying. They have much bigger problems today than her. She continues her obnoxious annoyance and says she doesn’t believe in money. But wants them to call her a cab. Sassy Tim arrives on the scene and he is most welcome. I’m laughing so hard at his reply. He is beyond done with this girl and her BS. Forever love how sassy he is now. Thank you Lucy haha

Lucy turns around and asks Nolan how his exam was. He says he passed but doesn’t seem psyched about it. Lucy notes this and Nolan says Grey just confirmed he’ll never make detective. Tim does this deep chuckle that does things to my insides and says ‘You mean you still thought you had a shot?’ LMFAO He’s so mean to Nolan and I love it sfm. Legit brings me joy how constantly underwhelmed he is by John.

His body language the whole scene has me rolling. Legit tickled pink Nolan with his letter of reprimand thought he still had a shot at detective LOL It’s the giant laugh that proceeds his line that kills me the most. Tim can't believe John could actually think he still had a legit shot at it after what he did. He’s such a jerk to Nolan and it makes me happy. I’m a bad person I know haha

They get pulled away by their freegan. She goes and gets herself arrested again by breaking into a car in their parking lot. John follows them out and quickly gets pulled away by a man in a van while they arrest her again. Nolan of course gets caught in a bomb threat outside the station. Leaving Tim and Lucy stuck there until the threat is neutralized. Hence the name of the ep. They're locked down till this mess is resolved.

They bring everyone in the lobby and in holding down to the parking garage. I love the chat they have about it. Lucy is voicing her concerns and anxiety for Jackson. Tim is instantly the calm presence she needs. He knows she is stressed because now they can’t be Jackson’s backup. Advises her the best he can till they are out of this current mess. The more they focus on the task at hand faster they're back out there to help him. I just can’t get over them being this united front to protect Jackson best they can. Makes my heart happy.

Once they're out of the garage Tim and Lucy do some digging on Graham their bomber. They find out he has a GF Kelsey Adams. She set up a page to fund his medical bills. Yet they haven't asked for money. Another thing is she’s going under an assumed name and they have no pictures of her. She wasn’t home when Lopez tracked her address down. All their leads aren’t going anywhere. It’s not about money or about the convict this man pretended to want release at first. So feels like they're back to square one. All they know is Kelsey must be involved in this circus. That they're close enough for her to have a hand in this with Graham. The issue is figuring why they're both doing this.

Lucy then has an epiphany and says what if it’s meant to distract them? Since this isn't about money or releasing someone. That the real reason is to pull their focus outside the station. When it should it really be focused inside. Harper then asks what kind of crazy person would be inside while her BF threatens that same building with explosives? I love this beautiful look between them. Their silent communication at its finest right here. All she has to do is look at Tim and they have the same thought. Their Freegan who got herself arrested twice in one hour is crazy enough.

They go to confront Freegan Freida and I love their dynamic. How confident they are and the back and forth they display. Trying to get her to break. Tag teaming it. Explaining how they caught her and her reasons why. Until they realize she’s not Kelsey Adams…. It was real good till then guys haha The real Kelsey takes off and breaks the keypad trapping them down there.

Harper is able to catch Kelsey in the evidence room and figure out why she’s there. They’re trying to get her fingerprints before they’re scanned into the system. Her ex-husband was abusive and has cops on his payroll. Why she was under an assumed name. Harper also finds out the bomb is a fake. Only needed them to think it was real to buy time. Also get him arrested so his medical care could be paid for in prison. With this mess resolved Tim and Lucy are finally able to return to their shift.

Lucy tells Tim about a text she receives from Jackson. Saying everything came to a head with Doug. That Jackson pulled his dad running IA card. That Jackson thinks he'll back off now. Hearing this sets Tim on edge. He wants to go find Jackson ASAP. He’s worried about what Doug is going to do since Jackson pulled his dad card. Say's he's not the type of guy you can back into corner and not react. Tim is afraid of what he’s going to do now that he is. Has them leave the station immediately to find him.

Tim and Lucy hear a call come over the radio. It’s the exact situation Tim was worried about. He’s having him and Jackson go into an area where they should have serious backup. Doing a ‘premise check’ solo. Doug is up to something and it’s not good. Sounds like he’s leading Jackson into the lions den. Which is exactly what happens. They split up and Jackson gets jumped. He is overwhelmed by 4 guys. Makes a call over the radio and Stanton says he’s coming to help then leaves him there be beaten to death.

Tim and Lucy show up on scene and run into Stanton and he “claims” to have lost Jackson. They quickly find Jackson and rush over to him. Tim calling in ambulance and RA. Beautiful thing about this moment is Jackson grabbing for his body cam. The cam footage that ends up condemning Stanton.

Watching Tim march over with Grey to suspend him. Phew lord Tim telling him 'Give me a reason'. Yum. Stanton gets the ending he so richly deserved. That ends quite an intense episode. Loved the United Front that is them in this episode. The way he fiercely protects Jackson the entire episode while keeping Lucy calm. So damn good. Not a ton like I said but enough goodies to enjoy especially the beginning.

~~~~~

Side notes none really this episode was truly intertwined. Glad to see Stanton finally get what’s coming to him. Awful that took Jackson nearly dying to get it done but glad he was finally removed.

As always thank you to everyone who supports these reviews. Been so fun for me to Analyze and share with you all. All the likes/comments and reblogs mean a lot ❤️ see you all in 3x06

[hippolotamus]

Tagged by @panbuckley @honestlydarkprincess @heartbeatdiaz @spotsandsocks @prince-buck-diaz @alyxmastershipper @buddierights Thank you loves 🥰

Soooo, I, uh, may have started a new WIP today. It in no way resembles how I thought my writing would go today (I know, I know... when does it ever?)

Eddie Diaz is eleven years old when he meets the love of his life.  His parents have finally agreed to take the family on a vacation that isn’t a week away at Abuela and Abeulo’s ranch. They even got to ride on a plane for part of the trip.  From the balcony of their rented house, Eddie stares at the crashing waves of the Pacific, watching the water recede and roll back in again. He’s never seen anything like it in his life. How the sun reflects off the water, making it shimmer, like someone had dipped the ocean itself in gold. The endless stretch of sandy beach is a colorful mishmash of umbrellas, patterned towels and blankets, grown ups laying out, and kids gleefully running through the surf. There’s seagulls taking calculated dives for the chance of snatching someone’s sandwich, and other shorebirds cautiously skittering near the waterline. In the distance, there’s a pier to the left and right that he fully intends to explore.  At his mother’s instruction, he helps get his baby sister changed into her swimsuit while his parents pack bags and a cooler of drinks and snacks. Finally, finally his family leaves the house to search for an open patch to lay their things. An anxious current runs under his skin as he spreads out a large blanket and hastily sets up a folding chair. The sand under his toes is hot and gritty, making him all the more eager to be off dry land.  Before anyone can tell him what to do next, Eddie dashes away from the blanket, grinning from ear to ear. He loves the sound of his bare feet slapping against the cool, damp earth; how the foamy surf bubbles over his skin and blueish, greenish water laps at his shins, occasionally licking up his thighs. It’s warm and pleasant, heated from the midday sun, enticing him to wade in further.  Why did it take so many years for his parents to finally bring them here? Eddie tests out the water in every way he can think of – floating on his back, swimming out against the current, riding the waves back to shore. Out here he feels… free. There’s no expectation to be man of the house (whatever that means), do better in school so he can get into a good college later, or to babysit his sisters. Part of him wishes he could stay here in the ocean, uninhibited. At least he has five more days to just be before it all comes crashing down on him again.  He suddenly becomes aware of a commotion on the beach. People are shouting and he realizes they’re trying to get his attention. They point in his direction, but he’s still not entirely sure what he’s supposed to notice.  When Eddie looks around he realizes he’s drifted well beyond the other swimmers and his feet can’t touch bottom anymore. He doesn’t panic – not yet – he took swim lessons and can figure out a way back to shore. Eddie takes a deep breath and raises his right arm, ready to cut through the water one stroke and kick at a time. He’s just about to reach forward when he feels the wet, heavy smack on the back of his head, plunging him into darkness.

No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartshapedvows @911onabc @monsterrae1 @eowon @the-likesofus if you wanna

[entityverse-utmv]

Content Warning: Fictional depictions of: Auto-Cannibalism, Disordered Eating/Thinking, Unreality, Body Horror, Self-Mutilation, Gore. Continue with caution.

Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Void's Origin.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been hungry.

My bones ache with it. My magic is tight against my bones as I feel the yawning emptiness swallowing me from the inside, out. I'm starving—the hunger is maddening. I raise my fingers up to my mouth, feeling saliva pool in my mouth before overflowing. In this great emptiness, there is no sound as it drip, drip, drips down my jaw and into the dark infinity.

There is no sound. Nothing to look at. Nothing to smell, taste, or touch. Just me—just as it has always been.

...

I'm not sure how much time has passed in this Great Nothing. What brings me back to awareness is a sensation—new, strange, in this sensationless existence. Pain, my mind whispers. Sharp, stabbing, warm. Like my saliva before, something drips from between my fingers. The flavor of it is strange, the smell...metallic. Blood, my inner voice supplied. I become enamored with all of the input- the pain, the smell, the taste. Three sensations I'd never experienced before.

I relish the experience, as the new, new, new liquid falls into eternity. Shoving more of my hand into my mouth to be consumed, desperate to feel full—first my right, then my left. The pain is all-consuming, but I can't stop myself. No matter how much I devoured, I still felt hungry.

I twisted to consume my legs next, contorting awkwardly to reach them as my body slowly drifted through the Nothing, as if suspended in space. Soon, they were as my arms; but still I felt no fuller.

The pain was now in the stubs where my arms and legs had been. But it was also in my stomach—just as crampingly empty as it had been before.

I screamed. In rage, in agony, in despair. There was no sound—for there no were walls, no friction for my cry to bounce from. But my agony was felt all the same. Would I ever feel fulfilled? Would I ever know anything other than this emptiness?

Suddenly, a flash of blinding light cut through the darkness.

I blink open my eyes, a third liquid that leaked from them rendering my sight blurry. Tears, my thoughts helpfully informed me once again.

The light was intense; blinding, to someone who had never known it before. It was first white, and then there were so many colors—more colors than I could count. First it was everywhere, and then, like something was stealing it—eating it—it all sucked inward, and then imploded.

The first star.

The first thing to appear in this endless Nothing aside from myself.

Suddenly, the Void was no longer the only world. There was something new.

Perhaps it had something in it to eat. Something that would finally fill me.

The blood that poured from my sundered limbs writhed around me, twisting, hardening into a grotesque approximation of new limbs. I don't know how long it took. It could've been mere seconds, or years—but I reached in front of myself, flexing my digits experimentally, before willing myself to fall.

I fell through the air; there was no resistence, no sensation of momentum as I plummeted. My new toes gently touched flat, invisible ground. I wobbled unsteadily, having never used my limbs for their intended purposes before. A shaky step forward, then another. And another. I started walking, then running, dashing towards the new star.

I didn't know what I would find once I got there...but I had the feeling things were finally going to change.

[wetcatspellcaster]

I can totally get why you feel pressured with Pieces! When you write a popular fic, you do write it for yourself, but it's hard not to think of the thousands of people who give you their undying support, and you want to do right by them!! But, we are here because we love your writing (all of it. If I told you how many times I've reread Party Favors... Or dipped my toes back into An Honest Lie. God, God. I'd say too many, but it's honestly not enough) and we are here for the ride you choose to take us on. I have a firm belief in your abilities that has been proven true again again.

Personally I love your writing because it's amazing and well thought out, not because it's perfect. Which isn't to say that I notice any flaws (because I don't) but it is to say that perfection is unachievable. Pieces is fucking ambitious as hell, and you are slaying with each chapter, but you also aren't being paid. We are all freeloaders off of your google doc. Don't sweat about it too much.

That being said the last chapter had me SCREAMING. SCREAMING. I AM UNWELL!!!! THE HAIR REF,,,,,,,,,, HIS LITTLE CATTINESS,,,, ROSE BEING CRINGEFAIL,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ugh. UGH! IT'S JUST LIKE THE GOOD OL' DAYS ONLY NOT AT ALL AND EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

hello petal! thank you for sending this! I have been very tired for the last week or so, so I'm sorry to say that is why it sat in my askbox, I didn't want to not do the reply justice.

Thank you for being so kind! I'm really glad you enjoy my writing. I will 100% admit that I didn't think Pieces would become what it did, it's honestly amazing and I'm consistently blown away by the response it gets from readers and how nice everyone is, but it is very strange to write something ambitious just for your own curiosity versus suddenly hundreds of people getting an email when you're essentially 'fucking around and finding out'. I'm never going to complain! I'm very very lucky!! People like you now come to my tiny little tumblr and say nice things to me! But it has been a big change and it has definitely involved some adjustment lol.

It is nice to be reminded that some readers actually like the brand of Astarion/Tav I wrote before I touched an Ascendency AU, and that returning to that isn't a massive letdown lol. What is coming in the next few chapters of Pieces is a much softer brand of problem, and it's nice to be able to be a little kinder to the characters even if they're stewing in their own feelings! I hope people enjoy it when it happens, there is more repression and more absolute cringefail moments to come :')

I'm aware that I haven't updated anything in a few weeks, but unfortunately I am spending my days wrangling my PhD thesis and trying to edit it down to the wordcount. I have been writing, but I have not got an editing braincell in my body by the end of the day and that is why I haven't felt comfortable posting. I hope to be back soon, or at least by the end of the month once my draft is handed in. I know that's not what your purpose was in sending the message, but I just want to reassure you and other readers that I've not fallen off the face of the earth I am just. very very tired. Thank you for your kind words when my brain is on fire xx

[eyeless-jeff666]

Illusion

TW Torture Tsunagu has a shitty time but his husband is there for comfort (or is he). Angst, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending

Edit a day later bc I forgot: Happy bday worm boy!

„Your eyes are green?“

Shinya exclaimed, standing on his toes to grab Tsunagus's face and look deeper into his eyes. God, he was beautiful. Pretty eyes. A pretty smile. Silky silver hair. And such a cute voice. The blonde was sure that this was the moment he fell in love with the other.

Intense pain tore him out of this memory, a knife scratching against the bone of his thigh. He didn’t want to scream but his own voice ringing in his ears told him he had failed. The feeling wouldn’t allow for any control over himself and he didn’t know how long this had gone on for. It could have been minutes or days, pain spreading so evenly across his body that it was really impossible to tell.

“There there, Tsu, you’re okay.”

Shinya told him, though he didn’t sound right. His voice sounded far away despite his face being mere inches from the blonde’s. And that did not look quite right either, it was too perfect, too right. He wanted to feel his husband’s touch, but he always seemed just a bit too far to lean against.

“Please…”

A whimper that escaped his lips as the knife came down again, surprisingly finding an untouched spot; he wasn’t begging for the person who tortured him to stop. He was begging for Shinya to help him. Kiss him. Hold him. Anything.

“You know I can’t Tsu.”

The person in front of him said something, and Tsunagu didn’t know if he answered, only focused on the gray-haired hero, who still wore the same soft smile. It almost drove the blonde insane, just as much as it calmed him.

“You know I’m not really here, right?”

Another scream, with tears falling down his cheeks; surely the knife had just barely missed his bone this time because he looked down to see it deeply stuck in his thigh; breath heavy from screaming and enduring. His stomach cramped from writhing and trying to catch his breath, and his throat was sore from over-using his voice and dehydration. Suddenly, it was dark. And silent, and his mind wouldn’t click back into place correctly; when had his torturer left? When had it gotten so dark? He tried to focus, but his brain would spit out nothing but minimal observations. Darkness, so he’d been there at least one day, as it had been dark before despite the large windows. Dehydration so bad he was sure he had already begged for water, so likely longer than just a day. Hallucinations.

“Shinya…”

He mumbled, panic rising in him as his husband’s voice went missing.

“Shinya I need you.”

“I know. How about we focus on another memory? How about… how about our first date?”

That was good enough for Tsunagu. The darkness was already all around him after all and so it was easy to let his mind wander to the night of their first date. It had been unofficial, merely a spontaneous idea after Shinya had figured out an idea for his hero hairstyle. They’d met by the park, under the bright lights, and talked about it. It seemed amazing that this night had been around 18 years ago already, pretty much half his life, and more than half of the other’s.

“My little thread, remind me how late it was?”

“I don’t know anything you don’t know, love.”

The ninja hero replied and Tsunagu groaned. His head pounded, and he wasn’t sure if he liked being aware of that. Being aware meant Shinya being gone. Being with his thoughts and fear and not pretty gentle memories. It also meant that the anxiety came back. Not so much about dying, but rather because he didn’t know if he spilled information.  His mind was too far gone, too clouded when his torturer was there. Thinking had become so hard and his memory wasn’t functioning well. He didn’t want to speak about things he shouldn’t speak about, but he didn’t know if he was able to control it in those moments.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was crying. The feeling on his cheeks suggested it but his eyes didn’t burn and the pounding in his head was ever-present. Maybe he was, he wished he could ask Shinya, but he wasn’t here and he wouldn’t say. All he ever did was smile and fill his ears with sweet words. Guide his thoughts towards sweet memories and remind him over and over that he wasn’t real. That he wouldn’t touch him. Or hug him. Or kiss him. That he wouldn’t caress his hair or cheeks.

Breathing was getting hard. Keeping his eyes open was too, and Tsunagu could feel his life slipping away from him, slowly, but it was dripping away like the blood from his broken nose. It didn’t seem all that bad to let it happen. He craved a moment of peace and a break from the unbearable pain.

“Goodbye, Shinya.”

He said, smiling for the first time since he woke up in that chair. Letting go seemed wonderful, just this one time where death would win him over. And Shinya was smiling as well, and that didn’t make it any easier to regain his fight. It felt like encouragement, like praise almost, to make him believe it was the right thing to do.

“Goodbye, my little thread.”

And then he went numb. Blissfully so, as all the pain left him behind with nothing but a dizzy blur in his mind. One that turned into a nice last image; of Shinya being there with him, speaking to him. Tsunagu strangely could move again, reaching out his hand to put it on his husband’s cheek. And paused, his heart skipping a beat.

“You’re real.”

He forced out, and watched as the other broke into a tearful laugh:

“Of course, I’m real Tsu, what do you mean?”

The blonde couldn’t say more. His mind began to focus a bit, enough for him to realize he was at the hospital. And Shinya was there, really there, physically and only one touch away. Kugo was too, but Tsunagu barely had the mental strength to focus on more than his environment and husband. And then reacted in the only way he could manage; by crying his soul out. Crying until his head hurt while holding Shinya’s face in his hands. It wasn’t a happy or relieved cry, but a shameful one, for allowing himself to give up at what apparently was the last moment before being saved. And everything he could remember came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks, harsh and all at once. Eventually, nurses came in to give him calming medications, and to check him over. But having Shinya ushered away only made him freak out more and he begged for the staff to let Shinya stay by his side to hold his hand.

“Tsu. Tsu, my love, calm down you’re okay. I’m here. Please, breathe. Slow.”

He obeyed. Maybe because the medication was taking effect, but also because his husband could tell him to jump off a bridge and he’d do it no questions asked. His breath became more regular, and he struggled to keep his now shaky hand wrapped around the other’s. It took a while until he sank back into the pillows.

“I’m not a professional but it almost seems like you should make use of your privileges he has to a private room and stay with him, Edgeshot.”

Kugo said, his voice filled with relief and worry alike. He turned to leave, and for the first time Tsunagu looked at him as well, opening his mouth but was quickly shushed:

“Don’t you dare apologize. I know. You’re fine. Just rest and appreciate hearing that heart monitor beep. 5 minutes, that’s a miracle even for you.”

With those words he left, knowing it would get his friend thinking enough to rest. He had been dead for 5 minutes so, and had /still/ managed to escape death. Thanks to the medical staff and his fellow heroes, of course, but at this point it seemed ridiculous.

“Shinya… I kept seeing you…”

The blonde whispered tiredly, closing his eyes. Exhaustion won over him, so he couldn’t hear the other’s reply. But feeling his hand was more than enough to finally guide him into a calm, dreamless sleep. Shinya was really there, Tsunagu was safe, and that was all that mattered.

[foxintheferns]

WILD HEART

Chapter Two

A Twilight - Paul Lahote Fanfiction

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

***Short summary for my antsy gals: this absolute babe with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job that’s she’s deemed is necessary to find her way in life, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: eek! Chapta 2 bitchezzzzz! welcoming sir Jacob Black to the arena now. Yessssir let’s get this ball rollin I am PUMPED. Give your thoughts on what’s about to happen next, I’m curious 😏

CHAPTER TWO:

I woke in the morning with half of my body hanging off of the little couch, my left foot asleep from being tucked under my other leg for too long. I groaned with sleepiness, slowly and begrudgingly becoming more aware of my surroundings. Light filtered in through the blinds that I had shut tightly over every window in the small cabin. I reached to grab my phone off of the small wooden coffee table, checking the time, and was grateful that my body had me on a regular schedule. I tended to wake naturally around 6 o’clock every morning, unable to fall back into a restful sleep. It was far too dark in the house for the light to have woken me on its own. I stretched and moaned, my legs extending out and causing my feet to go past the end of the couch. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and mentally prepared for my day ahead. I knew I would have to check out my surroundings today, and plan out the catalog of data I’d be collecting this month. I’d have to focus on one species at a time, and I figured the Marbled Murrelet was a good one to start with. I wanted to see more of La Push, and the endangered, ocean-dwelling bird was on the top of my list for data collection. I ultimately had to submit my findings at the end of each month, in hopes that the observations I gathered could help create ways to bring the species’ numbers back to Washington. I stood, stretching again and drooping down to touch my toes, my body felt so sore, and I was finally feeling the multiples hikes I’d endured last night in bringing my belongings from my car to the house. I ambled over to the kitchen, starting the coffee machine. I walked around the small house, opening every blind I had closed the night before. Sunlight began to fall into the space, a soft warm glow coming through the glass panes. I breathed deeply, feeling confident in my decision to spend the next 18 months here. I knew that my passion for wildlife was one reason that lead me here, but I also knew that my deep and profound need for change was another. I had been living in Maine, finishing my degree and living with my ex boyfriend, Zack. After two years of constant fights, cheating (on his part, never mine), and manipulation, I had finally broken away. I hadn’t realized the relationship had been drowning me slowly. Suffocating me, pulling me under. It brought me to a place where I hadn’t recognized myself in the mirror. At my core, I wasn’t the girl who allowed myself to be treated that way. So why had I done exactly that? When I saw the job listing online, my heart had skipped; I had felt something stirring in me that hadn’t been awake for quite some time. ‘Washington Avian Conservation Project - Wildlife Biologist needed!’ - the posting had read…

‘Chosen candidate to spend 18 months total at observational shelter on Olympic National Park Forest land, 15 minutes outside of La Push, WA. Job description includes data collection and behavioral assessment of wild endangered species, including the Northern Spotted Owl, Marbled Murrelet, and Tufted Puffin for the interest in providing usable information for conservational planning and management of population risks. Utilities/housing included for 18 month period and additional compensation provided’

The lease on the apartment my ex and I had shared was about to be up, and I had taken the leap, applying immediately. To my surprise, a response had come in the next day, asking if I could arrive the following month to begin my stay. The few friends I’d had (although I’d lost quite a few throughout the enduring of my ex boyfriend’s destructive behaviors that had lead to my isolation) supported me greatly in my plans, eager for me to find myself. I wondered, with dismay, if they had seen hope in my eyes for the first time in years, and truly just wanted to me go anywhere that it would grow instead of simply continue to flicker and die out.

My best friend, Naomi, had thrown her arms around me, tears streaming down her soft cheeks. “Oh, Harley! Oh, babe, this is SO exactly what you need! Just get the hell out of here, find you again! God, I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, but…Har- this is it!”, she had cried, her theatrically passionate displays a very normal and truly beautiful part of our friendship that I found myself missing deeply now, being across the country from her. Her bright red hair had been sticking to her tear soaked, freckled face in stringy wet clumps, which I had peeled softly from her cheek with a laugh. I had been crying, too, with Naomi being the first person I told, and the only person whose opinion truly mattered, of my endeavor. And it was true: this was it. This was the shake-me-by-my-shoulders-and-scream-in-my-face to-wake-up blessing I’d been waiting for the universe to throw at me. I needed to remember who I was. What I loved, what I hated, what made me laugh, what made me cry. I had lost my mother 3 years ago now, never really getting to say goodbye to her after she spent her years succumbing to my father’s verbal abuse, never admitting she wasn’t ever truly happy, and never taking her own health seriously enough. Up until the moment she had passed from a heart attack at the age of 59, she had cared more for others than herself. Even her shitty husband. I had disowned my father, never bothering to look at the man again after seeing the way he had broken my mother without regret or acknowledgment. He had spent my childhood being absent, a drunk, and only ever pretending to care about his family for show. He hadn’t tried to contact me after I became estranged, only bothering to tell our relatives what a disappointment he thought I’d turned out to be whenever they saw him at holidays in the years following.

My ex Zack had thrown a fit at my sudden decision to leave. He had called me crazy and selfish, and thrown my large hiking backpack into the dumpster behind our apartment complex, seeming to try to sabotage my plans and somehow prove to me that I was incapable of them. I had pulled my pack from the trash pile, grateful he hadn’t ripped it apart or damaged it, and cleared my belongings from the apartment that night, staying with Naomi at her house in Portland up until the very day I had to leave.

I grunted as I pulled my brown leather boots up, wiggling my toes once they were on. I shook my head back and forth quickly, trying to clear my mind of the memories I’d quite intentionally left in Maine. My long, dark hair fell and jumped in waves around my head as I shook it with vigor, and I felt a surge of angry tears start to prick in my eyes. I felt alone suddenly, and the feeling made me mad at myself. I had known this would be hard. I knew I would feel lonely and sad. But more, I knew my love for nature and its beauty was the one thing that could call me back to who I was.

You’re here to live. You’re here to live for you, for the first time in your life - I told myself, breathing deeply and pulling my small pack that contained my data collection journal and my binoculars onto my back- It’s not going to be easy. But we’re doing it.

……………………………………………………………………………………

I spent the next few hours, and then the next several days falling into my routine. I woke up, ate breakfast, put my clothes and boots on, ventured out into the forest, and watched the birds of the Olympic Peninsula. I watched them flying, I watched them singing and talking amongst themselves. I watched their eating habits, their patterns and their routines, as I settled into mine. I found more peace in watching them simply exist than I ever thought possible. I began to recognize the same birds after several days, hearing their calls and watching their motions. When the sun would fall behind the trees and the star filled night would arrive, I continued to close the wooden blinds and lock the door of the lookout cabin tightly, never forgetting the reality that I was, indeed, a twenty something year old woman in the woods by herself. I tried to brush off the odd feeling I had that I wasn’t at all alone in the forest, reminding myself that I was simply hyper aware of the many species I shared the mountains with.

On day six, I made my way down to La Push’s first beach, and wondered immediately why it had taken me so long to come. I was beginning to feel quite socially isolated, and knew that talking to myself as much as I had been was probably a sign to spend my time around some humans as soon as possible. Although cloudy, and far from hot, the beach was a breathtaking place. Several tourists and visitors walked or sat along the sand, some exploring the tidal pools closer to the trees while others stooped to take photographs of the large rock formations in the water on the horizon. I decided a break was needed, and suddenly felt a surge of anticipation at the conquest of speaking to an actual person. Five days alone had passed quickly, and I hadn’t been truly mentally present after trying to avoid the negative feelings of accepting my own presence. It was hard to be alone with the woman in my mind after not really trying to know her for so long. I didn’t recognize her, but I was beginning to familiarize myself again. And, to be quite honest, I was beginning to be okay with her.

I decided a visit to a local restaurant would be the best idea; after all, a girl can only eat so much boxed mac and cheese. I walked down the main dirt road along the beach that cut through a small corner of the residential parts of the reservation. I had been studying the local maps, and knew that much of the land I was studying on, including the land that held my lookout shelter, belonged to the Quileute Reservation. Billy Black’s face flashed through my mind, and I wondered if he’d truly meant what he said when he politely offered his name and where to find him if I ever needed help.

What would make him think I’d need help?, I wondered scrutinizingly. I shook my head to myself as I trekked down the rocky dirt road, my map showing me only about a half mile more before the small reservation restaurant would be on my left.

Once I arrived outside the adorably cozy cedar-shake sided building, I immediately noticed the group of four very tall young men standing in the dirt parking lot. They were all tanned and ridiculously well muscled, and I found it a bit of a struggle to keep my eyes off of them as I had to walk past their huddle to enter the restaurant. One of them was completely shirtless. I quickly darted my gaze back to the ground when one turned in my direction at the sound of my footsteps. They were immersed in conversation, their deep and muffled voices a low hum as they spoke. After the one man turned in my direction, all four of their voices went quiet, and I felt heat rush to my face. With the heat of the eyes on me, I began to question my appearance. I wondered how I presented to locals. Did I look odd to these men? Lost? Dirty? Having spent almost the past week studying birds in the forest, I wasn’t sure I looked too good.

You showered, I reminded myself soothingly.

It’s probably not even about you, stop being so egocentric! my inner voice resounded again.

It was most definitely about me, or the men had coincidentally run out of things to talk about just as I had arrived. Their conversation remained halted as I kept my gaze on the front door of the restaurant, slipping inside quietly. My peripheral vision told me they never broke their attention from my arrival, and it irked me that they would be so brazenly unashamed to stare.

Inside the restaurant, only a few guests sat and dined, and I felt calmed by the fact that none of them seemed to glance my way or care about my presence.

“Hey sweetie, just you?” The soft feminine voice broke through my inner dialogue, and I turned my attention towards the sound. An older, doe-eyed woman stared at me with a gentle expression upon her face. She had jet black hair that fell to her midsection and was adorned with two thick braids on either side of her face. Her smile was kind, and her eyes seemed to soften slightly when she took in whatever she saw in my expression. Her gaze flicked to my backpack, then to the paper map I clutched in my right hand.

I nodded politely, returning the smile.

“Just me,” I replied, trying to ignore the repetitive nature of the few words I’d spoken to other living souls in the past week. She nodded back and gestured for me to follow her, guiding me to a booth in the corner along the front window of the restaurant.

“This spot alright? Nice light over here, I think.” I nodded and hummed gratefully in response, not quite remembering how to speak to another human in that exact moment, and slipped down onto the vinyl cushioned seat. I glanced quickly out the window, watching as the group of four men were now walking away from the restaurant in long strides, and felt the hair on my arm raise and bristle when I saw one of them shoot a brief look back to the restaurant. His face was striking - and startlingly familiar. I held back a gasp when I realized it was the face of the boy whom I’d seen with my new acquaintance, Billy Black, at the grocery store on my first day in town. He turned back again and kept walking with the other men, seemingly disappearing into the tree-line behind the dirt road.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Sue was my kind waitress, and in the 2 hours I spent at La Push’s tiny restaurant, she became my first new friend in Washington. Her gentle demeanor was undeniably motherly; it soothed me more than I thought possible. I hadn’t known how much I needed to be nurtured after the overwhelming change of the last week. She must have been able to sense the ache I felt within me for company and a listening ear. Sue sat with me at the small booth while I ate my warm chowder, grabbing a bowl for herself from the kitchen and shooting the man behind the back counter a look when he seemed ready to protest. Sue was immediately interested in why I was traveling alone, and felt compelled to tell me of her daughter and son, who she said were right around my age and lived on the reservation with her. We laughed and chatted as Sue welcomingly accepted my droning on and on about how much I loved my new occupation. She seemed to have no trouble understanding my passion for watching the birds, and nodded knowingly and with interest when I delved into ridiculously mundane (to anyone who wasn’t me - or a wildlife biologist) details of their subtle quirks and personality differences. She even belly laughed, shaking her head in honest disbelief as I told her of the one Tufted Puffin I had deemed to be ‘Frank’, as he tended to stumble around with the singular and all consuming goal of finding a female companion, and it had reminded me of a perpetually drunk friend of my father’s who often displayed similar desperate intentions.

After a free slice of chocolate cake on Sue’s request from the kitchen, and a plea for me to come back soon, I found myself bidding Sue a good evening, wanting to return on my hike back to the house before the sun set entirely. Sue tucked a few chocolate chip cookies into my backpack before I left, grinning and shooting me a wink.

The walk back to my humble cabin felt significantly longer and farther than my initial trip to town, and I found myself feeling more uneasy than I would’ve expected when the second half of my trip was blanketed in pitch darkness. My large flashlight illuminated the minimally marked trail ahead of me, although I knew I could find the way back to the cabin quite easily from memory at this point. I couldn’t decide what was bothering me so deeply. I had been in the forest after nightfall before, many times. This wasn’t new to me, and yet I found the hair on the back of my neck refused to relax. The muscles in my legs and back were tense, as if my body felt an underlying sense that I would need to break into a sprint at any given moment. It wasn’t until I heard the clear and obvious crunch of branches and vegetation underfoot that I validated the odd gut feeling I was experiencing. The sound was loud and heavy enough that I knew within seconds that it did not belong to something as small as a squirrel. I froze immediately on the dirt path, knowing I was way too far from the beach to try to run back to it now, and not close enough yet to the cabin to make it there before the likely creature could catch me. The sound seemed to be coming closer, although it was hard to tell just how far away it was. All I could grasp was that it came vaguely from my right.

Fuck. I thought to myself. Cougars, Grizzly Bears, there were far too many possibilities that this animal was one of immense danger for me to remain calm. I did the one thing I knew to do, and quickly reached behind me with my unoccupied hand to unclip the bear spray that hung from the right side of my backpack. Flashlight in one fist, bear spray in the other, I stood motionless in the center of the path, unable to hear much now over the sound of my heart beating like a drum in my ears. The crunching continued, and I shone my light across the trees quickly, trying to direct it to where the sound had come from, but not quite knowing which exact direction it had been. The light found nothing, and I suddenly remembered what I had been taught in my wildlife emergency training classes. “Hey, bear! H-hey bear!,” I yelled with as much force and strength as I could muster, my eyes searching the black around me wildly for any hint of motion, or the outline of a giant, lumbering bear, perhaps. My voice had come out broken and shaky, and I felt the urge to scream in terror rising like a lump in my throat. At my voice, the sound ceased entirely, and I had no idea where to point my flashlight. Silence fell across the forest around me. My body was tingling with fear, all of my nerves activated and engaged as I waited for what felt like several seconds.

“Well, I’m not a bear, but if I was - don’t know that those sounds would do the trick.”

The deep, rough, and seemingly amused voice came from somewhere in the dark abyss to my right, and I spun on my heel, gasping harshly and dropping my flashlight in the choppy motion.

“Shit!” The word came from my throat in a strained whisper that sounded humiliatingly close to a whimper. I dove quickly to grab the heavy flashlight again, and flung the light toward the voice.

My mouth fell open as my light touched upon the man. His massively tall frame was made to look bigger still by the shadows that the flashlight casted across the trees around him. It took me no less than two seconds to recognize him. The same man from the grocery store, and then from outside the restaurant. The one with Billy Black. His face was defined, dark and playful eyes surrounded by the facial structure of what could only be compared to a statuesque figure. A prominent set of dark brows sat above his eyes, and they came together now, straining as he threw a hand up in front of his face. “Jesus, wha-, fuck, can you shine that down?!” His voice came again, somehow alarming me more after I had observed him for the seemingly endless moment. It seemed my mind had forgotten he was a real person, only taking in his features as if I were watching from an outsider’s perspective. After a brief hesitation, I sputtered and directed the beam of the flashlight to settle at his legs, ensuring I could still make out his face easily. I was unsure how, but his facial features put me at ease in the same way the stranger Billy Black’s had, despite the fact that there was absolutely nothing calming about this situation. I was unsure where to begin.

“H-…wha-who-,” I stammered, then took a breath and began again, “Why are you following me?” My voice didn’t have a single ounce of the stone cold confidence I’d tried to instill in it. I swallowed hard as I realized my bear spray was the one thing I had to defend myself, and my grip on the can tightened slightly, my fingers cold and stiff.

The young man’s expression didn’t waver. In fact, the only change in his face was the small lifting of one corner of his mouth into the beginning of a smirk. I felt a wave of terror wash through me as I imagined the horrific fate I could be in for if this stranger had the intentions my inner voice was screaming at me to be wary of. Despite my accusation, his gaze softened then, and it almost looked like he was about to laugh. He exhaled from his nose in a short, sharp breath, the sound resembling the start of a chuckle but ending quickly as he raised his brows and found my fear-stricken face in the darkness. He leaned forward slightly, cocking his head to the side. His voice was low and velvety, and summoned goosebumps across my arms once again.

“Following you? You’re on my land, sweetheart.”

➡️CLICK FOR NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: Chapter 3 coming soon! Thank you guys for stickin with it thru to this point if you’ve read this far :-) I’m so excited for the plot to thicken 🤪 let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter’s upload!

-Ro