#Woman Walking in a Forest Park

[vizuart]

[marketingsentimental]

[nagararts]

She's got places to be

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensitive to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[homunculus-argument]

Rural Finland gothic

the asphalt road you are driving has been cut through the woods. the sky is clouded and grey, the asphalt is grey, the forest on both sides of you is green. no other colour exists other than green and shades of grey. sometimes blue roadsigns point towards places whose names you've never heard. you don't google them. it's none of your business.

sometimes you drive past a house, a wooden house painted white, yellow or red. the paint is faded and chipping, there is moss growing on the roof tiles. there are lace curtains in the windows and a bench on the yard, but you cannot tell by the quick glance you get whether the house is abandoned or not. the residents don't want you to know. it's none of your business.

you pause at a gas station. it seems to be a part of a chain that you thought went bankrupt in the 90s. a handful of those wooden houses are settled around it, and you wonder if any of the people living there work at the station. not that it matters. it's none of your business.

there are a handful of locals gathered inside the gas station, drinking coffee at the table. They smell like pine soap, resin and mosquito repellent, and you can't tell whether paused their conversation to silently stare at you when you stepped in, or whether they had been sitting in silence to begin with. you don't ask. it's none of your business.

the station cashier doesn't talk to you save for a greeting and a few quick nods. you can't tell whether it's because they assume you don't speak finnish. they don't ask where you came from, or where you're going. it's none of their business.

the road leads you somewhere with more houses and buildings. the locals don't call the town by the name. it's just church town, the church is there. people don't say they're going to the town to buy their groceries, they say they'll be at the church. you're not sure whether the town was built around the church or the church was built into the town. It's none of your business.

people talk of going to the church when they're going to the town, but nobody seems to go in the church. people only go there to be christened, for confirmation, to get married and to be buried. a child has not been officially named before they're christened, and no-one will tell you the name of their baby before the child has been given their name by a priest. most of them don't seem to know why, and you don't ask. it's none of your business.

even the town is strangely quiet. you see seven people altogether, and half of that number is a family of four. besides the sound of a car rumbling by, and the occasional barking of a dog, you hear nothing. you're standing in the parking lot of a grocery store, across the street from a library, in a walking distance from the town square, and it's so quiet you hear the sound of wind whispering in nearby trees.

there is a dog barking somewhere. of course they are barking, they are guard dogs and hunting dogs. they're supposed to do that. they bark to alert their masters of game, of intruders, of strangers and outsiders. sometimes they bark at the woods, when it doesn't look like there's anything there. the locals don't go investigate it. it's none of their business.

you see the same symbol drawn, doodled and carved anywhere that graffiti accumulates to. an oval divided in the middle, with rays like a sun. it's called the "church boat", though everyone knows it's meant to be a cunt. you remember reading somewhere that it's an ancient symbol, from the time of the Old Gods before the christians came, when the inherent power of the woman of the house was considered stronger than even death magic. you don't ask what the people here know about this. it's none of your business.

the locals can tell you're an outsider here because you don't look like anyone they know. if you were someone's visiting grandchild, they could tell by your face which clan you belong to. they don't ask you what other business you could possibly have here. it's none of their business.

[esouliie]

WILL YOU SLEEP ALONE TONIGHT?

(rio vidal x reader) (agatha harkness x rio vidal)

synopsis | you finally see her again, after what feels like a century apart. but she's not the person you remember—her smile is wrong, her eyes colder, and her voice carries an edge that cuts through nostalgia. something is off, something you can’t name, like death painted in the wrong shade of blue: unfamiliar, unsettling, and hauntingly beautiful.

tags | angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love and ohh it burns, it’s set after end of agatha all along sooo, open ending, everyone’s crying :(

word count | 2k

authors note | i’ve not written in a while but this lil thing was inspired by my recent obsession with aubrey plaza & my friend’s constant need to bombard me with sad agathario edits - @cuinaminute229

The air was heavy with silence, save for the faint hum of the single streetlamp casting a pale glow over the cracked pavement. You clutched your keys tightly, the cool metal digging into your palm as you walked across the empty parking lot, your dingy car left on the other side. The forest loomed at the edge of your vision, a wall of shadows that seems to lean closer the longer you look at it. The lamp flickered once, then twice, as if unsure of its purpose.

She’s not hard to miss, sat on the weathered bench beneath the light, her silhouette fragile against the darkness. Her face is pale, almost ghostly, and her eyes—a vivid, unnatural red—glint like dying embers. Old tears tracks carved glistening paths down her cheeks, catching the light like molten silver. You stopped mid-step, unsure whether to approach or retreat. This was something completely new to you. Rio was never one to let her emotions spill out, never the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, her true form bare for all to see. With you, especially, she was a fortress: stone walls, guarded gates, and windows so shuttered even the light struggled to slip through. Your time together had always been private, locked away behind closed doors and tangled in the heat of shared breaths and whispered sighs. It was nothing serious—that had been the deal from the start. No expectations. No promises. You’d both agreed to keep it light, easy, uncomplicated. It worked for her, and you thought it would work for you, too. After all, you weren’t exactly searching for a fairy tale with a happily-ever-after. But Rio had a way of upending expectations without even trying.

To you, she wasn’t just beautiful—though she obviously was. It wasn’t just her sharp jawline, her dark, stormy eyes, or the way her lips curved when she was amused. It was how she moved through the world: always untouchable, always unbothered, and entirely herself. Rio was the kind of woman who could make you feel insignificant and seen all at once. You told yourself it was harmless, that the smirk she gave you when you made her laugh didn’t mean anything. That the way she pulled you into her arms each night, her hand firm on your wrist, wasn’t your undoing. But oh, how wrong you were. She’s not the type to play fair, and you knew that from the start. Still, you let her draw you into her world, a place where shadows whispered secrets and the nights stretched endlessly. Every time she tilted her head and smiled at you, the world narrowed until it was just her, framed in smoke and fleeting light.

You weren’t supposed to fall for her. You should’ve listened to her warning. But you’ve always had a reckless streak, haven’t you? Life, after all, has a funny way of dancing with Death herself. And to you? She’s never been more beautiful.

“Go away.” she said, her voice stripped of its usual playfulness. The sharpness of her tone stung more than you’d like to admit, being the first you had heard from her in a century, but you stayed put, feet rooted to the cold pavement. She’s sat there, trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like they could somehow block out the chill setting in her bones. Her shoulders hunched forward, defensive and small, nothing like the powerful witch you once knew.

Without thinking, you untangled the scarf from your neck. The soft beige fabric still holds the faintest trace of warmth as you gently draped it around her shoulders. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t thank you either. Her dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, just for a moment, guarded and unreadable, before dropping back down to her pale hands. Those hands clasped together tightly, her knuckles white from the effort, as if she’s trying to trap the heat that’s rapidly escaping her. You sat beside her on the bench, closer than she probably wants, until your knees press together. She doesn’t move away, but her silence felt heavier than the night air. Carefully, you reached out, cupping her cold fingers in your hands. They’re frozen to the touch, long and elegant as always, despite the way they’re trembling slightly, itching to flee from your touch, and yet, desperate for the heated comfort.

“I don’t have any gloves,” you murmured, a poor excuse for an explanation. Not that it matters. Your hands were always warmer than hers and always managed to make their way into hers.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Her shoulders softened, just barely, and you think you might feel her fingers shift slightly against yours, hope you might feel her palms twist to wrap her fingers around yours.

But she didn’t.

“You shouldn’t…” she started, her voice quiet, fragile, but the words trail off into the cold.

You shouldn’t be here.

“I know,” you said softly, cutting her off. “But I am.” You saw the look in her eyes—the shift of calm waters against the storm brewing beneath her tightly clenched jaw, her ragged breath betraying the composure she so desperately tries to hold.

“Rio, what’s wrong? Where’s Agath—”

Before you could finish, she snatched her hands from yours as though your touch had burned. The abrupt movement knocked you against the back of the bench, as if she had actually pushed you away. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her pace frantic, shoulders trembling. “Rio? Wait!” Your voice cracked as you called after her, your legs already moving to close the growing distance, “Rio, please! What’s happen-“

”Shut up,” Rio spat over her shoulder, her tone cruel enough to freeze the words in your throat. But as she glanced back, her eyes betrayed her; and there lied the truth. Her cheeks glistened in the dim light, a fresh stream of tears cascading down her face like a quiet admission of defeat. “Rio,” you said again, softer this time, cautious, of the wounded woman.

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “Don’t say it like that.”

You know what she meant.

Don’t say it like you care for her.

Like you’re in love with her.

Her steps faltered, and she turned to face you fully, her arms crossing over her chest like armor hastily thrown up against your probing gaze. She looked like she wanted to fight you, to lash out and drive you away as she hid herself behind walls, but the anger in her eyes was tempered by something else—something fragile and crumbling. That part of her soul she had shared with you once before. This wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed Death’s cruelty, the way it tore through lives and left people hollow. You had seen it before, but this time, you weren’t going to let it win. Not with her.

“Don’t do that,” you whispered, stepping closer, nimble fingers hesitating, waiting for the slightest indication she’ll let you in, for the remnants of her walls to fall down.

“Don’t hide from me, Rio.”

Her breath hitched at the sound of her name. The way it left your lips felt like a one last touch, one last plea, one last kiss. For a moment, you thought she might lash out again, her walls snapping shut, impenetrable. But then something shifted. Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her like a tide retreating from the shore. She stared at your hand, her eyes flickering between your outstretched fingers and your face. You don’t wait for her to make the first move, hands pulling her face into the crook of your neck, her shuddering breath warm against your skin. Her whimpers are quiet, but they echoed loud into your chest, her heartbeat rapid and raw against yours.

You heard her muffled words against your skin, faint and broken, and pulled her away just enough for your eyes to meet. Your thumbs brushed against her wet cheeks, coaxing her to speak again, though the tremble in her lips warned you of the weight of what she was about to say. “She’s gone,” she whispered, voice cracking under the pressure of holding herself together. You tightened your hold on her, pulling her closer as though your arms could shield her from the grief threatening to consume her. Your hands continued their futile attempts to wipe away her tears, even as fresh ones cascaded down. You pressed your forehead to hers, a silent plea for her to keep going, though you knew a part of you already dreaded what she would say next, of what really happened to those close to Death.

“I killed her.” The words ripped from her lips in a guttural sob, the kind that seemed to tear her apart from the inside. She collapsed into you, her weight nearly buckling your knees as she clung to you with desperate force. Her face buried itself into your neck, her tears soaking through your shirt as she poured her anguish into you, her cries now raw and unrestrained. You stood firm, steadying her as best as you could despite the waves of emotion raging between you, and for the grieving woman before you. Your hand found her dark curls, stroking them in soothing motions, while the other rubbed slow circles against her back all the way to her neck. “I’m sorry,” you murmured over and over again, your apologies feather-light against her crown. They felt insufficient, hollow even, but they were all you had to offer.

You weren’t entirely sure of the relationship between Agatha and Rio. She had never explained it fully, and you had never pressed her. From the outside, you had assumed it was similar to your relationship with Rio—intimate in a way that didn’t require a label but never crossed certain boundaries. But then you started to notice things. The way Rio’s eyes lit up whenever Agatha entered the room, as though her very presence ignited something within her. The subtle changes in her voice when she spoke to Agatha compared to you—softer, warmer, tinged with something more. And the way she leaned into her touch, like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. The only thing worth spending an eternity on this plane for. You had tried to dismiss it at first, the ignorance extending beyond your grasp, but now, holding her like this, the depth of her devastation told you there was more to it. Agatha wasn’t just someone Rio cared about—she was someone Rio loved, the only person she ever truly loved.

Rio’s sobs continued to shake her tall frame, and you held her tighter, even through your own suffering, as flashes of your last moments together crashed into you. It all made sense now. The distance. The arguments that spiraled out of nowhere. The way she’d simply disappeared, leaving you with questions that burned like open wounds, and a heart wounded by her cruelty.

She had fallen in love.

She had fallen in love with someone else.

The thought sliced through you again, sharper this time, and you had to fight the urge to pull away. To protect yourself. To let the hollow ache in your chest guide you into a defensive shell. Instead, you stayed. You held her. Because even if her heart had chosen someone else, yours still belonged to her. And you wanted to say something, anything that could offer solace. Words teetered on the edge of your tongue—a joke to lighten the air, a reassurance that she’d be okay, a confession, never able to see the light of day, that you’d buried deep for so long you weren’t sure it could ever surface. But the words lodged in your throat, too heavy, too tangled with your own grief.

So you stayed silent. This wasn’t the first time you had carried her pain over yours, and you suspect it won’t be the last. Her tears soaked through your shirt, hot and unrelenting, and her sobs turned to shuddering gasps. She clung to you as if you were the last solid thing in a world crumbling beneath her feet. And maybe, you were. Right now, you’d be whatever she needed. You pressed your lips against her cold cheek, arms still wrapped around her trembling form, “I’m here. Always.”

Even so, you couldn’t offer her what she sought, the life she once had with Agatha. That kind of love was never yours to give, never wanted by the woman in your arms. Death was never yours. But you knew you could offer her this: the steady, unwavering presence of someone who cared.

Someone who has and will always love her.

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear

Summary: He doesn’t want to have company.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, spanking, orgasm denial, possessive Ari, a hint of dark/grey Ari?

Rating: Explicit

Square filled for @julybreakbingo: Square filled: "Park"

Square filled for @eclipsingbingo: Held down

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Solitude. No people. No stress. No noises. That’s how he likes it, and he wouldn’t want to change it for anything.

He chose this life. After selling his company for more money than he could ever spend, Ari bought a forest to build a huge, luxurious cabin for himself alone. He’s got everything he needs. And what he doesn’t get, he can make with his strong hands.

Some people may call him crazy. A former CEO and successful businessman turning into a lumberjack building his furniture on free terms. Ari doesn’t care. He gives a shit on other people’s opinion.

Today is one of the rare days he must drive to the only town near his private forest. Ari hates leaving his solitude and meeting people. After a bad divorce, he’s not the most social person.

But – a man gotta eat even if he’s got a beautiful garden behind his cabin and a lake filled with fish. He needs more to fill his pantry. Beer, toilet paper, and batteries do not grow on trees.

“Mr. Levinson,” Susie, the clerk from the grocery store chirps when Ari walks toward the checkout. “Is that all?” She glances at the two shopping carts filled with everything he’ll need over the next weeks. Maybe even a month, or two. “Plastic or paper?”

“Paper,” he grumbles under his breath. “Plastic is bad for the environment.” Ari shakes his head at his words. Years ago, he would’ve given a shit on the environment or nature. He was obsessed with making money, a pretty woman, and fast cars.

“Sure,” she gives him a tight smile but says nothing. “Just a minute.” She snaps her fingers at the new bag boy. “Sean, get over here. We have a customer.”

Ari would like to roll his eyes as the boy groans loudly. He was on his phone, undoubtedly making a TikTok video to share with his two followers instead of doing his job.

“SEAN!” She grunts when he doesn’t move an inch. “If you don’t come here in a second, you are fired.”

“Man, if I made my first million with my video, I’ll quit,” Sean grumbles while reluctantly starting to pack Ari’s groceries into paper bags. “You will see. I’ll get out of this shitty town in no time.”

Ari holds back a comment. He learned that it’s better to shut your mouth and not get involved with the town’s folk. Unlike the cheery clerk at the grocery store, most people in this sleepy little town do not like him.

Especially because he stopped them from clearing the forest he bought. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” Ari swipes his card over the device. “Have a good day.”

Before Sean can grab the bags to carry them outside, Ari wraps his arms around the paper bags to carry them out of the store.

“Idiot!” Susie mutters. “You had to piss him off. Now he won’t come back anytime soon.”

Sean harrumphs. “This is the only store in town. Your love interest will be back. This doesn’t mean he wants to take you out…”

Back in his cabin Ari busies himself putting the groceries and toiletries away. Only to make a list for more. Soon it will be winter, and he needs more supplies. Ari hates driving to town during winter. He tries to leave his cabin less during the cold times.

His dog lies on the carpet in front of the fireplace in the living room, yawning loudly as his owner tells him they’ll need more wood.

“Come, buddy. We go for one last round for tonight,” Ari clicks his tongue, causing his dog to jump up and follow him toward the door. The Estrela Mountain Dog walks next to Ari as he steps out of the cabin.

Ari closes his eyes and inhales the air deeply. He can already smell the approaching thunderstorm. “We need to hurry, buddy. I know how much you hate getting your fur wet.”

He flashes his dog a smile before buttoning up his red-black checkered plaid. “Let’s go, Bear. We don’t wanna miss dinner.”

“HEY! STOP! This is private property!”

You are already out of breath when the man and his dog chase after you. All you wanted was to go for a swim in the lake. How should you have known that the forest is private property? You camped in forests all your life without getting into trouble.

Now this big guy is chasing after you like a madman. “STOP! You cannot come to my property and steal…”

“Bear. Get them!” The man calls for his dog. The giant beast speeds up to outrun you. It jumps at you. Pushing against your back so you land on the ground, face first in the mud. Rain is pouring down on you, soaking your shorts and shirt. “Good job!”

The dog sits down on your back, making you groan loudly. “Get off me you beast.”

“Hold them down,” the man approaches you and the dog. He crouches down next to you to rip your baseball cap off your head. “What are you doing on my property?"

“I wanted to go for a swim, dude! I camp not far away from the lake. I didn’t know this was private property! Who buys a fucking forest!! That’s just wrong.”

“Dude?” He laughs. “Bear, we caught an angry wood nymph, not an intruder.” The man clicks his tongue, and the beast finally gets off your back. “There are warning signs, lady.”

“I told you,” You struggle to get on your knees, groaning as your back hurts from the dog’s attack, “I didn’t see a sign. I camp wherever I want to.”

“Not on my property,” he snaps at you as he gets back up. “Come on, the thunderstorm will only get worse.” He holds out his hand as you struggle to get back on your feet. The dog got you good. “I’ll show you the way back to the road.”

“Fucker,” you slap his hand away and get back up on your feet without his help. “You can’t let your dog attack people.”

“You are an intruder, and he tried to defend my property.”

“Dude, do I look like a danger to you, your dog, or your property?” You size the man up. He quirks a brow. “That’s what I thought.” While you try to rub the dirt from your knees and shin, the man huffs.

“You walk around my property with your little backpack and believe you get away with it? Lady, this is not a park. You can’t just come here and waltz around my property like you own it.”

“I got it, okay. This is your forest, and you hate people,” you wrinkle your nose as the rain runs down your face. “If you’d excuse me now. I’ll find my way out of your forest and into the next to put up my tent somewhere else.”

“In the middle of a thunderstorm?” He asks. “You’re not only a criminal but crazy too. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Well, good thing that I’m not your problem, Mr. Property,” you turn around to walk opposite the way you came from. “Have a nice life.”

“Lady, that’s crazy,” despite his former behavior, he follows you. “The rain is going to get worse. You’re going to catch a cold or worse.”

“Anything is better than being around you,” you side-eye the man. If he gets too close, you’ll get your pepper spray out and show him what happens when he messes with you.

“Wait…wait up,” he grabs your arm to stop you from running off.

“Don’t touch me,” you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “I’m warning you! I got the black belt!”

He releases you but blocks your path. “I won’t hurt you, lady. My name is Ari, this is Bear.” Ari points at his dog. “He didn’t want to hurt you. If Bear wanted to hurt you, you’d be dog food.”

“You have a way with words, huh?” You look him up and down. “So…where is this street?”

“We can’t walk through the forest now,” he sighs and points toward something in the distance. “If you don’t want to walk through a forest in the middle of one of the worst thunderstorms this area ever experienced, you should come with me to my cabin.”

“Right,” you curl your upper lip. “I’ll go with you to your cabin so you can make a filet out of my ass. I won’t go anywhere with you.”

Ari snorts. He starts laughing as you watch him. “I don’t want to eat you, lady,” he grins. “I mean, I love to eat a lady out.” His eyes drop to your soaked shorts, “but only if she begs me.”

You look down at your soaked clothes. Your backpack gets heavier per minute and Ari is right, the rain is mercilessly pouring down on you. “I’ll take a picture and send it to my friend with our position and your name.”

“Be my guest,” Ari poses for you. He grins into the camera when you snap a few pictures to send them to your friend. “What about Bear?”

“Fine,” you snap a few pictures of the dog to send them to your friend too. “If you kill me now, you’ll get hunted down by my friends.”

“I won’t take the risk,” Ari winks at you. “Come on. I want to get out of my wet clothes and have some coffee.”

You begrudgingly follow Ari, hoping he’s not a psycho killer or looking for a basement wife…

“See, I’m not a killer,” Ari hands you another cup of tea. “After the storm calmed, I’ll drive you to town. You shouldn’t camp in the only other forest around here.”

“Why?” you take a sip before looking at him. You cannot deny that he’s not as bad as you believed he was. Ari offered sweatpants and one of his plaids to you. He shared his dinner with you and brewed tea for you.

“Let’s say the men around here a rather…hmm…how do I put it…”

“Assholes?”

“I think that sums it up,” Ari sits on the other side of the couch to give you space. After the first minutes he knew, you’re not a bad person and now he tries to make you see, that he’s not a bad guy either.

“Hmm…crap,” you sigh deeply. “I wanted to do something reckless for once and now, my friend will laugh about me.”

“You never camped before, right?” He watches you drop your gaze. “Why did you lie?”

“My friends bragged about their adventure trips, and I only ever soaked in the sun or visited museums during holidays. I bought a tent and…you know the rest.”

Ari snorts. “You’re the worst camper I ever met.”

“Fair,” you shrug and giggle as his eyes drop to your legs. He subconsciously licks his lips and shifts in his seat. “So…” you scoot a little closer to Ari, “how long are you living here…alone?”

“Hmm…?” He lifts his eyes from your legs to meet your eyes. “A few years.” Ari murmurs. “I left my old life behind to live here, on my own.”

“Must’ve been a good life,” you scoot even closer to look Ari in the eyes. “This is not a normal cabin. It’s rather…luxurious.”

Ari drops his eyes to your lips, licking his own. “I was a businessman before becoming a lumberjack.”

“Lumberjack,” you purr the word. “You mean the big guys wearing plaids and cutting wood.” This time, you lick your lips. “You must be very strong if you cut wood all day.”

“Not all day, sweetness,” Ari scoots a little closer, his thigh brushing yours. “Only if I need wood for my fireplace.”

“Hmm…” you get bold and move your hand to his bicep, squeezing hard. “Very strong.”

“Strong enough to throw you around if you come to my property and try to swim in my lake,” he moves his hand to your thigh, toying with the sweatpants you’re wearing. “I can spank you too, to make sure you’ll never break into anyone’s property again.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and your lips part. “You think I’d let you spank me for breaking into your property?”

His cheeks dimple. Ari dips his head as his hand creeps higher until he can press it flat against your mound. “I think you’d let me do anything I want to do to you.”

“Look at you,” he purrs in your ear. “Such a good girl, kneeling for me. I bet,” Ari circles you to watch you kneel in front of his couch. He pushes against your shoulders, forcing you to bend your upper half over the couch. “Hmm…what a nice ass you have.”

Ari cups the back of your neck to hold you down on the couch. He’s not too rough but makes sure you can feel his strength.

“I’d love to just fuck you, but you’d only cum all over my cock. I need you to feel the consequences of your actions in your bones.” Ari runs his free hand over your ass, humming as you start to whimper. He grips one cheek roughly, testing your reaction. “I’ll use this body to my liking, and you won’t deny me.”

You choke out a moan when the first smack hits your ass. “Yes…”

“Count, little tramp,” his features harden, and he smacks your cheek a little harder this time.

“One.”

“Again,” he slaps your other cheek, making it sting. “Again!”

“Two.”

“How many can you take?” It’s not a question. Ari told you he’ll give you ten, and you’ll take ten with pleasure if you get his glorious cock in return. You’re already soaking wet and cannot deny that the next smack pushes you closer to the edge.

“All you have to give, sir,” you whimper. “Three…”

“Good girl,” he soothingly runs his hand over your stinging cheeks. “Seven more and you’ll get something nice.”

The next smacks come faster and harder. “Four, five, six, seven,” at eight you’re out of breath and cry out in pleasured pain.

“Eight, nine,” he slaps your ass with both hands. “And lastly,” he slams his hand between your legs, hitting your clit. Your legs tremble and you soak his hand with your cum.

“Oh God…” You can’t come down from your unexpected high. Ari grabs you by the back of your neck to push you onto the couch.

You end up underneath him, whimpering as he moves one hand to your crotch to lift your butt to help him sink into you. He pokes your entrance, impatiently pushing the first inches into your weeping hole.

“Fuck, that’s a wet cunt,” he groans in your ear while conquering your cunt with one hard thrust. “Yeah, you’re a good girl.”

Pressed into the furniture by his hard body you can’t do anything but lie there and let him slowly fuck into you. Your juices soak his cock, and his balls with every deep thrust.

Ari is by all means not gentle. He fucks you for punishment, to make sure your body knows you did a bad thing. “Oh, baby. I lied,” he whispers in your ear after a particularly deep thrust. “I’m going to keep you here for my pleasure.” He thrusts three, or four more times, always avoiding hitting your G-spot.

Ari purrs your name and fills your cunt seconds later. “Aw, don’t whine, baby,” he sinks his teeth in your neck to leave another mark on your body. “This was punishment. You’ll cum when I allow you to cum.”

He groans against your neck, teeth grazing over one of the marks he left. Ari is a man possessed. After he filled you for the first time, he took his time to rub cream into your ass. He toyed with you, fingers and tongue bringing you to the edge, only to not let you cum again.

With your hands restrained to the bedpost, you can only watch him move on top of you. Your hands itch to touch him, but you haven’t earned it yet. You’ve been a bad girl, and he won’t allow you to get more than he’s willing to give.

Ari slowly thrusts into you, thick cock rubbing against your walls. “I want you to cum for me. Come on, little tramp, soak my cock. I want to fill this slutty hole up.”

“Please—” you eagerly meet his thrusts. “I need…please…Sir…A-R-I…” You shudder through your high. Your whole body sizes up and for a moment, you fear you died and ended up in heaven. This is the most intense orgasm you ever experienced, and it takes your breath away.

“Good…” Ari thrusts one last time and stills his hips. His warmth fills you again, and you wonder how many times he already fucked you before he let you come. “Good girl. So, fucking good for me.”

He collapses on top of you, exhausted and satisfied. “Fuck…” you breathe out. “Fuck…fuck…that was…”

“Damn, this cunt feels so good. I’m glad you’re a criminal wanting to break into my property. I didn’t have such a good fuck in years…”

“Well…I got two more weeks off so…” you wiggle your hips, making Ari groan. “I could just invade your property for a little longer and you can punish me again.”

Ari lifts his head to look at you underneath him. He smirks, liking your idea. While you look up at him, mirroring his smirk Ari plans to keep you forever…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[belleski]

an easy drawing while i try to get back on my feet after uni, i wanted to figure out their designs for a comic idea

[Image description] A digital illustration of Ned Chicane, Duck Newton and Aubrey Little from the adventure zone . Ned is a tall man with pale skin and shaggy long grey hair, as well as a beard and prominent mustache. He is wearing a blue suit over a pink striped shirt with red dress shoes. He's got a Ouija board tucked under his arm and a large walking stick crossed over his shoulder. Hes looking to the right with a pained smile. Above him there is text that reads 'thinking about house fires' with an arrow pointing towards him. Standing to his right is Duck, a man with tanned skin and greying brown hair and an weary looking expression. He is wearing a green and tan park rangers uniform and is holding a finger up to the blaring fire held in Aubrey's hand directly next to him. The text pointing towards him reads 'Thinking about forest fires. Aubrey is holding up a fire is her hand with a somewhat maniacal, but triumphant expression. Aubrey is a black woman with dreadlocks dyed bright red. Shes wearing a black jacket with fire detailing over a red shirt, as well as black shorts,leggings and boots. Pointing towards her, the text box read 'Thinking about fire(s)' End ID

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Eddie gets a not-so-sweet surprise when Hendrix takes some song lyrics a bit too literally.

TW: the briefest allusion to smut (referencing chapter 1), minor spousal conflict

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Based on an idea given to me by none other than @corroded-hellfire 💚 y'all wanted more of Hendrix, so here he is!

April 2003

The sedan rattles along the winding road to Forest Hills Trailer Park, pebbles crunching beneath the tires. Sunday nights meant dinner at Wayne’s, a tradition that you and Eddie both vowed to keep as long as possible.

A familiar intro trills over the car’s radio. Eddie’s eyes leave the road for a brief second to meet yours. 

Step inside  Walk this way You and me babe  Hey hey!

“Our song, Sweetheart.” Your husband grins, right hand slipping from the steering wheel to crank the volume louder. He sings along, just as animated as he was that first night at The Hideout. 

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?

“Dad, what the heck?” Harris grumbles from the backseat. At eleven years old, he flips between adoration and annoyance with astounding speed. 

“Yeah, what the heck?” Hendrix echoes his brother, though his smile is a far cry from Harris’s exasperated eye roll. 

Eddie relents, twisting the knob just enough to be heard over Joe Elliott’s vocals. 

“This is the song I sang that had Mom falling in love with me.” There’s a teasing glimmer in his eyes, daring you to disagree with him. 

You eagerly take the bait. 

“Love is a strong word,” you counter. The night you and Eddie met was steeped in memories of longing and lust, of giving into your desires in what was supposed to be a fling. 

A fling that’s been happening for nearly seven years and counting. 

Eddie sits forward suddenly, snapping the volume knob so Def Leppard once again reverberates through the car. “Wait…this is the best part!” He yells back to his sons, taking an extended pause at a stop sign to headbang. 

Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough

He leans in, smushing his lips against your cheek, as he sings along. 

I’m hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!

You playfully shove him away, giggles betraying the irritated exterior you’re trying to uphold. 

From the backseat, Hendrix pipes up. “What does that mean?”

Without missing a beat, Harris instigates further. “Yeah, Dad. What does this song mean?”

Damn pre-teens. If there’s no trouble to be found, they’ll make some. 

Eddie swears under his breath, cheeks flushing red as he tries to find a response suitable for his three-year-old. “Well, um, he’s just…” he falters, any and all explanations fleeing his head. He improvises song lyrics on the fly when he forgets the real ones on stage, but now his brain short-circuits? Convenient.

Luckily, you’re used to fielding questions from little kids; one of the benefits of teaching preschool. “He wants to be extra sweet so a girl loves him.”

“So he pours sugar on himself?” Hendrix’s nose wrinkles in adorable confusion.

“Yup.” Easier to confirm your son’s own ideas than to come up with an alternative. Leaning back against the headrest, you force out a giggle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

The subject is swiftly dropped as Eddie pulls the car in front of his uncle’s trailer, Wayne already standing at the door and announcing that the pizza was on the table and ready to be eaten. “Delivered hot to the door, just like they promised,” he said, repeating the Surfer Boy slogan. 

It isn’t until dinner has been eaten, the conversation naturally dwindling, that trouble begins to arise. 

“Har, I wanna look over your homework when we get back,” you say, crumpling up your sauce-stained napkin and placing it on your empty plate. Your eyes narrow when you clock the uneasy glance that your oldest son shares with his father. “You did finish your homework, right?”

Harris tries and fails to hide behind his messy mop of curls. “Not exactly,” he mutters. His uneaten crust is suddenly of incredible interest. “I was gonna do it today, but, um…”

“But what?” Your impatience is directed both at him and Eddie, the other alleged adult in the house, who was home with Harris while you took Hendrix to a playdate. 

“Well, okay, the plan was for him to do his homework,” Eddie begins, choosing his words carefully. Too carefully, like he’s trying to hide something. “But then Jeff called and told me about this tournament at the arcade; like, all of the old-school stuff we played as kids. I told Harris he could go if he promised to finish his work after, but then time got away from me—”

You grit your teeth, all-too aware of your audience present. The last thing you need is for your temper to unravel in front of Wayne and the boys. “So Harris’s homework isn’t done because…” You take a deep breath before continuing. “…because you wanted to go to the arcade?”

Wayne mumbles a barely audible “hoo, boy” as he clears the snack table. 

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie shakes his head. “I lost track of time, but he’s gonna get it done. It’s just, what, some math and science stuff?”

“And social studies,” Harris admits. 

Eddie’s face blanches. “Okay, so…just three things.”

Except it’s not that simple. Harris needs to take breaks to keep himself motivated and prevent frustration. He needs to reread and revise because he has trouble attending to all of the details at once. And now that he’s older, his know-it-all approach only makes homework time more challenging—for him and for you and Eddie. 

“Looks like he’ll be up until God-knows what time, then,” you shoot back. “And you can be the one up with him.”

“I said I’m s—what the hell?” Eddie leaps up, nearly falling over his feet in the process. A mountain of grainy white substance falls from his lap, into the futon’s crevices and onto the floor. 

Hendrix stands beside him, an upside-down—and now empty—bag of granulated sugar in his pudgy hands. His big eyes dart between you and Eddie, anticipating your reactions. 

“Hendrix,” Eddie says through a deep breath, channeling every ounce of remaining patience. Harris cackling doesn’t help, either. “Why did you do that?”

Your youngest son shakes the bag a few extra times for good measure. “Putting sugar on you so Mommy likes you. Like in the song.”

Shocked into stillness, Wayne speaks up. “What song made you dump all of my sugar on your dad?”

Hendrix beams as he belts out, “POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEEE! STICKY SWEET!” He turns to you triumphantly. “Do you like Daddy now?”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Logically, you know that you can’t reinforce this behavior, even if it was done with good intentions. 

But it’s also really funny. 

“I like Daddy even when he’s not covered in sugar,” you say. “I love him a lot, and us having a little argument doesn’t change that.”

“But the song…” Hendrix furrows his brows. 

You breathe out a sigh. “Sometimes, people say things in songs that we don’t do in real life. Like when people beat each other up on TV or in movies. It’s fun to watch, but we aren’t actually going to do it.”

The boy pouts. “So do I gotta say sorry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “to Daddy for pouring the sugar on him, and to Grampa Wayne for wasting his sugar.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Grampa Wayne,” he says softly. “I didn’t know the song wasn’t for real.”

Wayne grins. “S’okay, kiddo. I’ll just drink my coffee black for a while.”

Eddie’s positioned over the kitchen sink as he brushes the rest of the granules off of his shirt. “I think we need a hard-and-fast rule that we don’t copy any of the things we hear in songs.”

“Agreed.” You start towards the tiny closet where Wayne keeps the vacuum, adjusting the hose so it can suck up the sugar embedded into the futon’s mattress. When that’s done, you grab the broom. “Now, Hen, you’re gonna hold the dustpan while I sweep the floor.”

“But—” he starts to argue, but a raise of your eyebrows silences him. “Okay…”

Eddie takes the broom from you, a tight smile on his face. “Guess I kinda deserved that, huh?” He murmured. 

“Didn’t wanna say it out loud, but…yeah.”

“I really am sorry.” He sweeps the sugar into Hendrix’s waiting pan. “It was a real dumb move on my part.”

You kiss his cheek. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “I’d hate to have to pour more sugar on myself to win back your affections.”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep sweeping, and then we can talk about my affections.”

“Yes, dear.”

--

[lipglossanon]

Day 18

Kink: Threesome

Pairing: Las Plagas!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader x Shape Shifter/Wendigo!Leon S. Kennedy

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, threesome, aphrodisiac, noncon, slight body horror, off screen oc death, biting, blood, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), blowjob, cumming in mouth, cum swallowing, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, cum shot

not proofread

The party’s been raging for hours; pockets of people completely passed out uncomfortably close to the bonfire. You’ve had a couple of drinks, but nothing on the heavy side. It’s a cool October night, nearby the forest that’s supposedly haunted (by what or whom has only been whispered about). 

You’ve never put much stock in those old wives tales, especially tonight when some of the locals decided to dredge it all up in an attempt to scare newcomers.   It’s why later, when a crying girl finds you to say her boyfriend hasn’t come back, that you opt to go with her to look for him. 

“He said he’d be right back,” she sniffles, mascara running. “It’s been almost an hour. Do you think he got lost?”

“Maybe,” you push past some low branches, listening to her follow behind. “He may have just passed out or something.”

“Maybe,” her breath hitches. “Maybe that monster got him.”

You roll your eyes since she can’t see your face, “Doubt it.”

Walking deeper into the trees, you miss the movement behind the girl; a too long arm reaching down from the branches above to snag around her neck and yank her upward. A loud snap makes you turn, eyes squinting in the murky darkness. 

“Hey,” you purse your lips, irritated that you forgot to ask her name. “Hey, are you okay?”

She stumbles out from the trees, brushing pine needles and leaves off her clothes. 

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped that’s all,” she smiles and you squint in reply. 

“Okay, well just try to be careful.”

She quickens her pace to fall into step beside you. 

“You said he’s been out here for an hour?”

She hums, “Just about.“

You glance over at her only to see her already staring at you, practically bright eyed and bushy tailed. It takes you aback, slowing your walk. 

“You good?”

You take in her dry eyes and nearly blank expression. 

“Oh, I’m great,” she smiles again and your brows raise. 

“Oookay then,” doubt laces your tone. 

Turning away from her, you turn your attention back to scanning the area. 

“This is a decent way in,” you offer up. “Think he’ll be this far in the forest, away from the party?”

“Oh, he was,” she giggles, so high and lilting that it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. 

You spin around to face her head on, “Was? Are you guys fucking with me? Tricking me out here as some stupid ass joke!?”

“Kind of,” she shrugs, but then her body doesn’t stop moving, a weird jittering overtaking her limbs. 

You bite back a gasp as you watch while her bones crack and fold in on themselves before extending at odd intervals, joints in places that aren’t the norm. Her face melts like a sped up candle and you blink rapidly, mind trying to process what you’re witnessing. In the blink of an eye, it morphs into that of an animal skull with horns protruding from the head. 

The thing in front of you stands tall, skeletal and ghastly. Your brain bleats in terror, but your feet are frozen to the spot.  Movement in your peripheral drags your wide eyes blissfully away from the horror show in front of you. Whatever subconscious hope you harbored dies a swift death as a new monster steps forth. 

Blacked out skin crawling with dark veins end with sharp tipped claws. His face makes your stomach drop out like a free fall ride at an amusement park. The tale of the slit mouthed woman crosses your mind before it disappears with the fervent hope this is all some sort of fucked up dream. 

His lips have split at the corners, stretching up along his jaw like a jester’s grin paired with razor sharp teeth. Black veins travel from his hairline down across his face—he looks like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

A low rasping laugh from behind has you jerking your head back around to the creature from before. 

“She looks like fun, doesn’t she?” It croons, body contorting again until it nearly matches the thing behind you—fringed blond hair and gleaming eyes. 

Now looking like a regular guy, it steps forward, crossing the distance in long strides until he’s standing in front of you. 

“W-what do you want?” You speak but it’s hard pushing the words through your dry mouth. 

“To have fun,” he snickers, night shine eyes flicking up to the person behind you. “We like to compete.”

“He’s right,” the other creature agrees easily, stepping into your personal space, body heat a brand against your back. “We’ll make it fun for you, too.”

Sharp burning pain pierces the side of your neck as needle like teeth sink into your skin. 

“I’m so jealous,” the one in front of you whines, horns pushing through his hair to curl over his head. “Lucky fucking bug.”

The man behind you snarls but whatever he replies with is lost as liquid heat radiates out from the bite mark. You swoon as white hot arousal blazes through your body so fast, it makes you dizzy. Their soft bickering dies down when you whimper, swaying on your feet and into the man in front of you. 

“Aww, she’s feeling it now,” he grins and his sharp incisors make your pussy clench. 

“Wha’—feel weird,” you try to shake your head but your body feels heavy and needy, nipples pebbling into hard peaks under your shirt while your cunt leaks slick into the gusset of your panties. 

“That’s just a little sumthin’ to make ya feel good,” the one holding you soothes, hands twitching against you as his fingers turn double jointed. “That’s a specialty of Leon’s.”

“Leon?” You frown up into the grinning face above you. 

“He likes to imitate me,” Leon answers and rubs a sharp tipped hand down your arm. “Thinks it’s funny.”

“It is,” the other one argues back. “We could pass as twins.”

“Cause you’re a weirdo,” a scoff from behind you. “Shouldn’t we be moving this along?”

“Of course, I’ll take first dibs.”

“We both will.”

“You got the last one.”

“No, you did. You killed him, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” a fond sigh. “He was an asshole, but his bone marrow was so worth it.”

The fear has slunked off like a kicked dog and in its place a lustful haze so potent, you think you’ll claw your skin off if someone doesn’t touch you. 

“Please,” you whine, “I can’t think straight.”

“Poor thing,” Leon murmurs, dipping his head forward and sucking on the bloody mark.

Keening, you rock your ass back against him, clit pulsing like a second heartbeat. He groans and lathes his tongue across the bite, sharp teeth teasing at your skin. 

“Oh god,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as he sinks his teeth into a spot on your shoulder after tugging your shirt out of the way. 

“Fuck, that looks good,” the man in front of you growls, moving up to sandwich you between them.

He copies his supposed look alike— pressing hot, open mouthed kisses from your jawline to your shoulder before savagely biting into the flesh. You cry out into the night, back arching forward, pushing yourself into two hungry mouths. After each monster works the skin with their teeth, they pull away, each admiring their own handiwork.

Your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears. They’ve done nothing more than sink their greedy teeth into you and yet you’re on the cusp of an orgasm already. 

“I need to be inside her little pussy,” Leon pulls away, grinding his bulge against your ass. “Gotta stuff that hot cunt.”

“Mmm, I just want this soft, pretty mouth,” the strange creature in front of you groans, body stretching tall once more. “Bend over for us, sweetness.”

They maneuver your body like a puppets, stripping your jeans and panties down to your ankles and folding you forward, shivering as your soaked pussy is exposed to the cold October air. 

“Oh, good girl,” one of them moans while a cock notches at your drippy hole followed by one slapping across your lips. 

“Open wide,” a vicious croon ending in a groan as your jaw parts on a keen, lips and tongue eagerly working the cock deeper into your mouth.  

Salty precum bursts across your tastebuds and you suck harder, needing more of that taste to flood your mouth. 

“Damn, fucking gagging for it, huh?” 

Moaning, your eyes well with tears, body pressing back against the fat tip teasingly pushing in and out of your cunt. 

“Ready?” 

“Go ahead and stuff that little pussy, Leon.”

Your fluttering walls stretch around the fat length rocking steadily into your sopping wet cunt. 

“Oh god, she’s so—fuck, so fucking—her pussy’s so hot,” he whines, pelvis coming to rest against your ass, cock buried completely in your hole. 

“Yeah? This mouth is so soft and wet,” a low grunt meets your ears as you hollow your cheeks and suck him off more sloppily. “Fuck, use that slutty tongue, ohhh, there we go.”

You’re totally mindless, completely giving in to the pleasure of having a thick cock in your mouth and cunt, stretching you open wide in different ways. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth to drip in thick strings off your chin. 

The cock buried deep in your cunt, throbs and kicks, leaking precum in your clenching heat. The man fucking your mouth grips your head with both hands, holding you steady as he rocks his hips back and forth, balls slapping against your chin.

“Can you rub her clit?” Leon grits out, raising his clawed fingers up. “I don’t wanna cut her.”

“Oh, I can rub that swollen needy clit,” he chuckles. “Gonna make that fat pussy cream all over your cock.”

You whine, suckling the head of his cock before bobbing your head back down, gagging yourself. 

“Fuck,” he tosses his head back. “Yeah you like that, fucking slut. ‘m gonna shoot my load down this hot throat.”

Your eyes roll back, something soft flicking and rubbing against your clit and making your legs shake. 

“Like my tail? Can feel that pudgy bud throbbing for some attention,” he goads mockingly. “So… slippery.”

Behind you, Leon begins humping your pussy at a rougher pace, cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, a wet plap plap plap that turns you on even more. 

The more you moan the rougher they become, fucking your mouth and pussy with near abandon as one of them plays with your clit. You cum hard, pussy pulsing and fluttering around the cock bullying its way into your hole. Fluid gushes from you cunt, soaking your thighs and the man behind you. 

“God, we got a squirter,” the man fucking your mouth growls out. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in this fucking mouth. Oh yes, suck me, suck me, oh shit.”

He hisses and hot thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat. You swallow as much as possible until you start to choke, coughing around his dick until he pulls it out, spurting a few more ribbons of spend all over your lips and chin. 

Growling from behind paired with a death grip onto your hips are all signals of Leon’s impending orgasm. He snaps his hips a few more times, sinking into you to the hilt and spilling deep inside your cunt. 

“Yeah, fill that fucking pussy up.”

Leon groans, rutting against your ass as he keeps cumming inside your milking cunt. 

“God, it’s so good,” he pants, pulling out to jerk off the last of his load onto your ass. 

While you’re all trying to catch your breath, you collapse down onto your knees—or you would have if it wasn’t for Leon gripping your waist at the last minute. He fumbles with your panties and jeans until he gets them pulled back up into place. 

“How long til that shit wears off?” The one in front of you looks back to normal—a blue eyed man with not a blonde hair out of place. 

“Maybe another twenty minutes. We should probably sneak her back to that party,” the one behind you steps up next to you, looking identical.

“Let’s head out then, bro.”

Leon rolls his eyes and swings you up into a bridal carry, falling in step behind the other one. Eyelids feeling like they’re weighed down by a pile of bricks, you let them fall shut. You’ll have time to worry about whether or not they’re going to kill you later. 

[dex0s]

💋MY DEAD HEART • ZOMBIESukuna X Gn reader WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT , NON-con/rape, main character death, cannibalism, humiliation, bad ending, public?, gore, animals, DARK CONTENT, age-gap, small plot/smut, violence mention, lazy ending, not proof read, MDNI 18+

A/N—hello.. how have u been.. that’s good. Bye! *disappears for 4 months*

You had studying subject 01 King of Zombies or what he calls himself Sukuna with some other scientists and as you can imagine it not a pretty sight to see. Like the normal things you would think of a zombie is he will human or animal flesh but yet he can be picky with it or he can do something disturbing to the flesh.

Flashback

You were walk to subject 01/ Sukuna test area. It was a huge metal door about 8ft tall with electrified bar along side with talismans all over.

“Good morning Mx.name” one of the security welcoming you, “you doing a check up on subject 01 today?” Finished the guard.

“Yes you are right. I have to check out what that 01 did with our experiment…” walking towards the door, one of the guards scanned his badge unlocking the door to the lab room. Yet before you could take your first step the other guard turned to you a said, “ I would be care in there even if there’s another door… the night guards told me that they heard some freaky shit coming inside.”

“Well thanks for the warning” you finished, walking in the lab the door closed behind you. Looking at the window in front of you the fake forest seems empty but you know better. Getting closer you can see a deer and when examining closer you can finally see what that disgusting creature did… it fucked the deer to death.

Cum spilling out of it hole, the poor hole was stretched on the unimaginable size, you can also see bites taken revealing the flesh underneath. Writing down this information not knowing the something so sneaking up on you.

*boom*

Quick turning to the sound you can see subject 01 smiling at you and what you assume to be deer blood on his face and hands.

“Do you like my master piece doc?” Sukuna asked. Going back to you notes you continue writing. After a few seconds Sukuna started to get annoyed that you were responding, “you think you can just ignore me doc!? I know you can hear me! Don’t go thinking your better then me, I’m the king and you are the peasant—just wait until I get out of here, you are going to be my first victim!?”

End of Flashback

You still remember the way he spoke to you—hate and disgust. Yet that didn’t stop you from coming back to work. The pay was good and you can live your happy ever after.

Parking in your spot. You walk up to the building, once you give in the doors you see no one at the front desk. Looking a around seeing if you can find someone. You captures something you wouldn’t want to see in a million years.

Over the counter of the desk, there lay a woman with bite marks and a chuck of her head bitten off. “I- what the hell happened here?” You asked yourself. Going around the desk you check the body, yet before that the body started to shake violently. Moving away and hiding you behind the desk. Trying to stay quiet you can hear movement then sudden silence.

Hearing Growling on top of you, quick looking up you can see the “woman” looking down at you with a hungry look. Quickly getting up u run towards a door that requires your key card. Looking back the “woman” is running at you full force.

Scrimmaging through your lab coat you found it. Briskly you open the door and just how quickly it opened it quickly closed. Hearing the bangs behind you. U decided to move away before that thing breaks in. With red lights going off and on you can somewhat see that all the subjects doors are open. Due to that u started to walk quietly. Once you get to subjects 01 door their are body’s littering the floor.

Before u can get away you get slam to the ground. “Look who we have hear” you know that voice… that’s the same voice that said that you would be their first victim. Feeling your clothes getting ripped off u try to break out but you know that wouldn’t happen.

Before you can even start to think Sukuna slam his two cocks in your ass/pussy. Hollering and screaming you kick your feet. Grabbing your feet he saids “I told you that u would be the first and then I will move on to the next women/male/person. Enjoy this time while you can because after this your time will be over”. Moaning in pain you can feel Sukuna bit down on your neck.

Feeling that harsh bite you scream due to the agonizing pain. Not thinking straight you see him eating something. Skin. Your skin. With Sukuna still thrusting in you and the pain from your wound you can feel yourself about the black out.

Around you hearing of feet pattering u see subjects looking at you. Laughing at your pain, laughing at your tears, “look at that you have a little crowd laughing at you” Sukuna mocks you. Not able to hold your bladder is piss on his cock/stomach. “Ew did you just piss on me?!” Making sure the people around you can hear. The laughter starts to get louder and louder.

Crying is all you can do, you can’t yell for help because nobody cares, you can’t get out of Sukuna hold because your weak, feeling your end approaching. you called out forgiveness for your sins hoping that when you see the golden gate that you will be forgiven. Closing your eyes for the last time your ears pick up something…

“see you in hell bitch” was the last words Sukuna said before cumming his load in you.

[withwritersblock]

You Were Mine

~You Were Mine by Forest Blakk~

Author's Note: N/A Summary: Luke and Y/N break up but they haven't let go of the relationship yet Warnings: none? Word Count: 1,722

It was late, he wasn’t sure exactly what time it was. He returned late from a roadtrip on the west coast, where they had a mix bag of games. He sat at the empty red light waiting for it to change. He ran his hand across his nose as he stared towards the tiny rain droplets starting to fall onto his wind shield.

The light switched to green as he sped forward towards the apartment building parking garage. He sped inside parking in the guest parking area. The parking spot that felt like his own with how often he was here.

Pulling his key from the ignition he quickly climbed out of the car. He took in a shaky breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked into the lobby of the apartment building meeting the gaze of the nighttime receptionist. 

“Y/N said you two broke up,” Edith said, she was a eighty year old woman who loved being up at night. The perfect job for her. Y/N often had nights where she couldn’t sleep and would keep Edith company.

Luke dryly chuckled, “We did, good night Edith,” he mumbled as he turned the corner to take the stairs. He was scared of the elevator after being stuck inside of it twice. He climbed up the steps in a rapid pace as he reached the fourth floor swiftly. He walked down the hall towards her apartment, he raised his fist up and knocked three times. 

He thought about the doorbell, but he knew she would be awake. The habits of their relationship was still something they were trying to break. She would always stay up and wait for Luke to text her that he made it back safely from his flight. He would either text or show up at her door. Which he always preferred the latter. 

He heard the twisting of the lock and her pulling the door open. She tilted her head against the door as she smiled softly towards him. 

“Luke, what are you doing here?” she asked as she squinted her eyes slightly.

“Haven’t slept good since we broke up and you know I don’t sleep on roadies. Can I come in?” he expressed softly. 

She pulled the door wider as she stepped to the side, letting him inside. He walked past her, taking in the familiar smell of vanilla and rose candles. She would have a candle in every room in her apartment. It would be the same brand and scent.

She shut the door behind him, locking it in the process. “I was just about to put on movie in my room, come on,” she offered as she started walking towards her room. He followed after her quickly as he ran a sleepy hand over his eyes. She shoved open her bedroom door and quickly dropped down onto the mattress, climbing under the comforter. Luke stood at the doorway, admiring her. 

“Luke,” she uttered as she shyly glanced towards his direction. He hummed as he continued admiring the soft smile on her glossed lips. “You can’t look at me like that,” she mumbled as she shyly dropped her gaze towards the TV remote in her lap. She turned it on as he took a few steps towards her, delicately shutting the door behind him. 

“Why not?” he asked barely above a whisper. She met his tired gaze as he continued towards the bed. She tried to avoid the smirk forming to her lips but it quickly remained. He delicately rolled over her body, laying beside her. He rested his hand beneath his head as he shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. 

“You know why,” she mumbled as she turned on the first movie she saw on Max. She placed the remote on the nightstand. She fully laid down. “You have to stop,” she mumbled as she rolled over, facing him. He took a deep breath as he shifted his gaze towards her. “Stop,” she whispered out as she met his gaze. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he mumbled as he rolled onto his side, their eyes remained connected. Her entire body felt warm as she continued looking deeply into her eyes. “I can’t look at you?” he questioned as his lips curled up into a smirk.

“We’re broken up,” she mumbled as she felt herself inch towards him.

“You let me in,” he whispered as his gaze lowered towards her lips. 

“You gave me no choice,”

“I gave you no choice?” he asked while giggling. 

“You stood there looking all sad and lonely-?” she explained teasingly. 

“Sad and lonely?!” he said in shock, he shook his head laughing.

“You told me you haven’t been sleeping well since we broke up, was I supposed to let you leave?” she said as she subconsciously rested her hand onto his bicep, squeezing it slightly. 

“Maybe,” he mumbled as he met her gaze, suddenly his tone getting serious. He reached over and brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. She looked towards him threw her eyelashes as she took in a shaky breath. 

“You’re going to have to learn to sleep on your own soon,” she whispered as she inched towards him. Their lips only a couple inches apart.

“Stupid London,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, avoiding her lips; instead he forced her onto her back as he rested his head onto her chest. She giggled softly as her hand instantly ran her fingers through his curls. 

“You’ve always wanted to visit London,” she countered as she ran her other hand across his shoulder blades, feeling them tense under her touch.

“No, you’ve always wanted to visit. I just always wanted to be where you are; all the time,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her collarbone. She pressed her lips together as she stared towards the ceiling, her eyes began to tear up. 

“I must be an idiot to be leaving you, huh?” she asked softly. 

He instantly lifted his head, his eyebrows harsh in a furrow as he stared down towards her. 

“You’re not leaving me, you’re pursuing your dream,” he expressed, a soft smile formed to his lips, “You’ll be happy there,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her; he stopped himself short before he kissed her. He wanted to kiss her, needed to. But he didn’t, he simply scanned her teary features. “I can’t stop you from leaving because that wouldn’t be fair,” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she muttered. He pouted his lips as he rested his head onto her chest. He didn’t reply, simply taking in the moment. Her hand ran through his hair once more, soothingly. “But I know that I am,” she paused as her voice broke, “But I know we’ll get through it, right? We’ll be happy without each other, eventually right?”

He took a deep breath, “Yeah,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up her side as he caressed her skin. 

“Luke?” she mumbled. He hummed, “Look at me,” she let out. He soon lifted his head to look down towards her, admiring her features once more. He leaned towards her delicately kissing her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll always love you,” he mumbled as opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. She smiled softly towards him. 

“I love you so much,” she whispered as he slowly rested his head back down onto her chest, pressing his lips against her collarbone once more.

~~~

It had been a week since Y/N left for London. It had been a week since they last spoke and since the last time they kissed. For the last week all he would do outside of hockey was lay in his bed. He would lay on his side of the bed, as if he was waiting for Y/N to take the other side for herself.

Jack was starting to grow more and more concerned as Luke wouldn’t have any TV shows or movies playing. Or any music. He would simply lay on his bed, his gaze towards the ceiling. All day.

Jack stood outside of Luke’s door as he was on the phone with their mom. “I’m telling you, Mom, he’s like broken. He only moves if I force food down his throat or we have practice or a game. That’s it,” Jack explained in a hushed tone. 

Luke laid on his bed, hearing every word Jack whispered, not so quietly. “No Mom, she didn’t cheat on him. She just left, moved away-I don’t understand it either-yes, mom, he’s alive-” he stopped talking quickly as Luke pulled the door open quickly, staring down towards his older brother. “Okay, I may not be alive after this, bye Mom. Love you, Luke may kill me-” he ended the phone call quickly as he shoved his phone down into his pocket.

“I’m fine,” Luke rasped out as he walked past Jack towards the fridge.

“Those are the first words you have spoken since she left which is saying something because you used to never shut up,” Jack pressed on as he followed after him. “You’re not fine, you are far from fine. Have you slept?” Jack asked.

“Sort of,” he mumbled as he stared towards the leftovers that he hasn’t eaten over the past few days. 

“What does that even mean?” Jack asked as he rested his hands onto the top of his countertop. 

“I haven’t slept great but I’ve been sleeping,” Luke forced out, tilting his head back.

“Let’s go on a run,” Jack offered, “You need to get out of this apartment and not do anything hockey related,”

“It’s raining,” Luke said simply.

“Then let’s go to the gym,” 

“I just need to lie down,” Luke mumbled as he met Jack’s desperate gaze.

“Dude, you’re not okay,” Jack pleaded.

“I know,” Luke let out, a dry chuckle leaving his throat, “Just let me figure my shit out. I’ll be fine,” Luke said as he walked past Jack. 

“Luke, do you want to watch a movie with me at least?” Jack begged. Luke stopped in his tracks, sighing before he wandered towards the couch. Sitting in his usually spot, leaning his head into his hand. “We have optional skate tomorrow, how about a Harry Potter marathon?” Jack asked, excitedly. Luke simply shrugged.

[coff33andb00ks]

where i come from - LS

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader (lilli. it's lilli) summary: hitch a ride to the end of the highway where the neons turn to wood word count: 1.2k a.n.: the first of three small fics for my beloved Lilli @maxlarens Happy birthday my darling!! I hope you enjoy this little love letter to you (and to american road trips). inspo: all the road trip songs my family blasted during my childhood, compiled here warnings: it's not a waffle house it's a waffle home, author is in love with american south almost as much as Lilli's in love with Logan

"Logan, you can't be serious."

He laughs, parking the car next to a slightly bent light pole. "What? You want to see America, right?"

You press your lips together, staring at the small, flat building that looks as though it's been in that spot since the 1960s and hasn't been refurbished once. "This is America?"

"One of the best parts," he promises, climbing out. The balmy air of Florida immediately makes the car's cold air disappear and you sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt as he walks around to open the door for you.

"A Waffle House is America?"

"Trust me," he says. "You'll understand."

You do trust him, so you let him take your hand, sweat beading before you've taken two steps across the parking lot. There's a crowd of people near the door and you feel their eyes on you and Logan as you approach, the air thick with humidity and weed and tobacco smoke.

The interior is worse than the exterior. Your sandals slide with each step on the ancient tile floor and you can feel the grease in the restaurant. A bored server is leaning against a booth and hands you and Logan menus as you walk by, telling you to sit wherever. You want to turn around and go sit in the car, but…

Logan looks so fucking happy.

So you sit in a booth with him, ignoring the sticky spot on the bench that catches the material of your shorts. You ignore the faint aroma of tobacco smoke that lingers in the dining area. You ignore the yelling from the kitchen staff and the argument starting up between a couple at the counter.

The food is pure American stereotype. Sweet, greasy, and the portions enormous. But your first bite of the burger has you smiling. Because—

"Oh my god," you practically moan.

Across from you, Logan's grinning.

The server is pure southern charm as soon as she hears your accent, and you relax as you enjoy a meal big enough to last you an entire day. It's not great but it's good, and the atmosphere seems to shift.

He buys you a mug, telling you under his breath about a time his brother stole one because apparently everyone does that. Once outside in the sweltering heat, he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. "Welcome to America."

The road trip was his idea. It's the best way to see this land he loves so much and because you love him so much you agreed, and after a week with his family you're driving out of the Florida panhandle, the windows down and the music blasting, both of you singing Sweet Home Alabama at the top of your lungs.

He takes an exit off the interstate and you're already lost but he's content, speeding along unmarked country roads, past lush forests and rolling fields. He has to slow to a crawl for tractors, and every time a car passes he waves like the other person is an old friend.

Left or right? at every stop sign. No map, no GPS, just a whim.

A tiny shop – gas station, babe, not a shop – in the middle of nowhere is selling fresh peaches and the woman is so sweet and talkative you want to stay and talk all day. Her great aunt makes those crochet blankets you're admiring and before you know it you've got three draped over your arms.

"Where y'all headed?" she's asking as Logan pays.

He shrugs, smiling that bashful smile that made you fall in love with him. "Nowhere, really."

She gives the vaguest yet most detailed directions to a motel – you're gonna wanna drive thataway til you see the old rusted school bus? Then take a left and keep driving til you pass the turnoff for the highway. It's down on the right. If you get to the stoplight you done went too far – and Logan gives you a look as you bite into a fresh Georgia peach.

You smile.

More rolling fields and woods. Farms and family homes and kids on swings. He gets to the stoplight and you both laugh all the way back to the motel.

It's tiny and has almost zero amenities but it's clean and the window overlooks a small field of wildflowers. You take a shower and when you come out there's a jar with a bunch of wildflowers in it and you smile at him. You've been smiling so much the past couple days that your cheeks ache.

He finds a place to get dinner and you feast on what he says is pretty okay bbq but you think is the best you've ever tasted.

The next day you're better prepared, and you fully enjoy the rambling tour of the countryside, relaxing with each passing mile. Feet on the dash, singing along to Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Songs that are familiar and songs that he knows every word to and you are still learning.

Lunch is a picnic, thrown together with gas station sandwiches and bags of chips, sitting on one of the blankets you bought yesterday by a river. You want to enjoy the scenery, because it is as beautiful as he always told you it was, but all you can focus on is him.

He looks so happy. You've seen him happy, of course, but lately he's been downtrodden. Anxious. And you sit there, watching him as he talks about maybe making it up into North Carolina by sundown, seeing how relaxed he is.

And you fall a little in love with this spot of the world that heals him.

"You love it here," you say softly after a bit of silence.

Logan nods, looking out to the river where it disappears into the trees. "I do."

"I'm—"

"I love sharing it with you more."

Oh. Oh. Your eyes are burning and it's not fair that he can drop the sweetest lines when you least expect them even though by now you should expect them because he always does and—

"Lilli?"

You blink and he's moved to sit right in front of you. "Logan?"

Why does he look worried? Your mind scrambles, thinking something must be wrong. He feels ill, or he just spotted some venomous snake slithering nearby or—

He shifts and you glance down, seeing the ring sparkling in his hand.

Later you'll remember every word he says. How his hand shakes and his voice wavers while he tells you how much he loves you and how happy you make him. But for now all you hear is the river splashing over rocks and birds twittering and the breeze ruffling the leaves of the oak tree. And all you can see his eyes, shining and bright and beautiful.

There's hot sauce on his fingers and yours are gritty with salt. His lips taste of salt and vinegar and there's an ant crawling on your leg, and he's apologizing for not giving you some grand proposal, but you don't care. You're glad he asked you here.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead resting against yours and you feel the sigh that exhales his worries.

He worried that you'd say no. As if yes wasn't on your lips before he said the words.

"I love you, Logie."

[sinsmockingbird]

WEREWOLF!RAHU | Event

PAIRING: Rahu x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, NSFW, Dom!Reader, Sub!Character, Werewolf!Rahu, Human!Reader, Monster Fucking, Heat/Rut, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Knotting, Marking, Brief Masturbation, Slight descriptions of blood

AUTHORS NOTE: Already on the second part! This was actually the first one I originally finished, and I enjoyed every single second of writing this.

YOU ANXIOUSLY tapped your fingers against your steering wheel as you drove down the deserted dirt road. Your heart was beating quickly in your chest as your eyes scanned the dark, dense forest that surrounded you. You were looking for your families old cabin, a place that you had become all too familiar with these past few months.

You used to come here all the time with your family when you were younger, but at some point you just stopped. It wasn't until a few months ago that you came back there by yourself, and it wasn't exactly for any nostalgia purposes.

Once the cabin was in sight, you drove your car to park in front of it, the headlights illuminating only a few feet in front of you. With anxious, quick movements you turned your car off and grabbed your bag, quickly stumbling out of your car and slamming the door behind you.

Quickly shouldering your bag and grabbing the keys to the cabin from your pocket, you moved up to the front door. Your hands slightly shook as you stumbled to unlock it, cursing yourself under your breath at your first few failed attempts. Eventually you unlocked it and you were quick to throw the door open and rush inside.

You dropped your bag besides your feet, heart hammering in your chest as you turned the lights on inside. Your eyes frantically scanned the place as you shut the door, your voice ringing through out as you called out to someone. You didn't get a response.

With a frown, you began walking through out the cabin until you made it to the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and you nudged it open before walking inside. You placed your hand on the wall, feeling it as you searched for the light, opening your mouth to call out softly into the dark.

"Ra- aaaAahhh!" You let out a startled scream as something collided against your back, tackling you to the ground. Falling onto the wooden floor with a thud, you groaned in pain before lifting your head up to see your attacker.

"Rahu!" You immediately yelled in slight anger as you met the familiar, icy silver eyes of the woman you've grown to love. "Don't do that! You scared me half to death!"

Rahu immediately whimpered softly in apology as you scolded her, her dark furry ears pulling back and flattening against her head. You took notice in that moment that she wasn't in her human form, but rather she was in her full werewolf form.

"Fuck, it's worse than I realized." You thought as you lifted a hand up to run through the dark pelt of fur on her head, scratching behind her ears and immediately making her lean into the touch. Your eyes softened at the sight as her eyes fluttered shut and she whined softly at it. "I'm sorry I'm late, baby, I didn't realize it was this bad."

As the words left your mouth, Rahu's eyes snapped open and she quickly moved to nuzzle her snout into your neck, huffing as she inhaled your scent before letting out a gruff, "It's fine."

"But it's not," You started, moving your hands to cradle the back of her head, your hands scratching through her fur, feeling her body shuddering above you as she moved to press her body against yours. "How bad is it hurting?"

Rahu let out a pained whine at your question, nuzzling her snout further into your neck, and the action and sound already gave you the answer before she spoke with a whimper, "Bad."

You winced and mentally scolded yourself as you felt her hips suddenly buck against you, and you finally felt the feel of her hard cock pressing into your thigh. When you had looked at the calendar and seen that it was already a day into Rahu's heat, you had dropped everything you were doing, grabbed your bag and sped all the way to your family's old cabin without a second thought.

You knew how painful the first day of a werewolf's heat is, and it was absolutely agonizing for a wolf with a mate to suffer through it until they had them. You learned this with experience with Rahu, and you always made sure to be there a day or two with her before her heat, but this week you had been so swamped with work that her heat had slipped your mind. You were feeling so guilty that such an important thing could so easily be forgotten by you.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm here now, I promise I'm gonna help you." You reassured, pressing a kiss against the side of her furry head, while pressing your hips against her, rubbing your thigh against her cock and making her large body jolt with pleasure and need.

You lightly pushed a hand against one of Rahu's broad shoulders, silently requesting for her to get off you. With a reluctant whine, she did, slowly peeling herself off you and backing away, allowing you to push yourself up and off the ground.

You looked and caught sight of Rahu's cock, and it was already out of it's sheath and hard. It was throbbing and twitching, the head leaking precum heavily. You cursed yourself silently again, before quickly stripping out of your clothes, and you could feel her intense gaze on you the whole time.

Rahu watched, pupils blown as you quickly took off every layer of clothing. She couldn't stop herself from whining as her cock throbbed with desperate need. She reached one of her large paws down and began jerking her cock into it, just to try and relieve some of the pain in it.

Her whimpering caught your attention, and you were just slipping your underwear down your legs when you looked up. You felt your face flush at the sight of the giant werewolf jerking herself off in front of you. You bit your lip, feeling slick beginning to stain your thighs.

"Come here, baby, let me help you-" You gasped, getting cut off as Rahu rushed towards you, and in a second she had you on the bed on all fours, whining and whimpering as she humped you from behind, while her paws began to grab mindlessly at every part of your body. "Rahu, wai-"

"Need. Need you, now!" Rahu growled, her hot breath on your back making you shiver as she buries her snout into your hair, inhaling your scent once more before snarling.

You didn't fight against Rahu, knowing in this state she's clouded by lust and can't exactly think clearly. In this state the only thing on her mind is burying her cock into you and fucking you wild. So you pressed yourself back against her while supporting yourself on your hands, to try and hold yourself up (though you knew they'd give out on you in a bit).

"Okay, okay, baby- Calm down, calm down, I'm gonna help." You tried to reassure, while reaching a hand down and wrapping it around Rahu's cock, and she whined and began bucking her hips into it.

You laughed softly at her desperation, making sure to tighten your hold on it as you moved to align it with your pussy. You were already pretty slick for her cock, so you didn't want to stall any longer. Plus, you hated seeing Rahu in such a pained state.

"Gentle, gentle-" You sucked in a breath as Rahu's cock began to slip inside you. Luckily, she wasn't completely drowned in need yet, so she did as you asked and gently pushed every inch of her cock into you until everything was inside without knotting you, yet.

"F-Fuck-!" Rahu whined, her large, furry arms wrapping themselves tightly around your abdomen, while moving to nip at your shoulder as she felt your warm walls clutch deliciously around her.

"S-So big baby," You moaned, your head falling forward and eyes closing as you felt her spreading you open so perfectly. You forgot how perfectly she fit inside you and how perfectly she spread you open.

Rahu held herself back from immediately fucking you, wanting permission to move first. "C-Can I?"

You nodded your head, smiling at the fact she was still acting so obedient for you even though she's in complete need. "Yes, please baby."

Rahu huffed, her tail wagging behind her as she began to pull out before thrusting back in, each thrust getting more and more intense and in rhythm. You cried out in pleasure, arms shaking and body jolting with her thrusts, each one leaving your mind hazy.

You felt her arms tighten around your abdomen, her claws lightly scratching at your skin as she began to force your body back to meet each of her thrusts. She let out whines and growls, her snout right by your ear as she snarled into it, her desperation for you clear.

With each powerful thrust Rahu gave you, her hips slapping against yours, it left your body numb with pleasure. You began to shake, trembling all over your body as your dear girlfriend began losing herself to her desperation. You didn't mind, voicing in a shaky voice for her to claim and use you as she needed, to just let herself go. And as Rahu began to move her paws over your body, her claws scratching at your skin and drawing droplets of blood, you knew she was lost.

Your arms finally gave out when she thrusted harshly into you, forcing a bit of her knot into you. Your head fell to the pillows under you, your tears quickly staining the fabric as you pleaded for Rahu to give you more. You wanted more, you wanted everything she could give you, and she was going to give it to you.

Her knot finally began to stretch you as full as you could take, and you cried out in desperation. Rahu snapped above you, and pressed her knot further in until it slipped in with a pop. As soon as it was in she moved two more times inside you, before burying everything inside and letting go.

Rahu wrapped her jaws around your shoulder and bit down until your blood touched her tongue. You cried at the feeling but didn't fight, knowing it was her way of claiming you as her's as she began to shoot her hot release into your clenching heat, sparking you to cum around her as well. You clenched hard, trying to milk her dry of every drop of her seed as you spasmed around her cock.

After finishing, you collapsed fully against the bed, mouth agape and eyes slightly rolled back as you recovered from the fucking, exhaustion seeping into every ounce of your bones. With her heat slightly subsided and more bearable, Rahu slowly came back to her senses. Staying knotted inside you, she began to nudge her nose against your face, trying to make sure you were okay.

You laughed softly as her nose nudged against you, and with a shaky hand, you patted her snout reassuringly, mumbling a soft, "I'm okay."

With confirmation of you being alright, Rahu huffed, licking your face affectionately. You smiled, scrunching your face up as her tongue licked at your cheek, but you didn't pull away (not that you could). She then pulled her face away, looking at the bite mark left on your shoulder, and she quickly began to ease her tongue over the wound, licking up blood and trying to soothe the pain.

Making sure you weren't bleeding anymore and feeling her knot swell down, Rahu began to pull away from you, and slowly slid her cock out of you. You whined as her cock slipped out, frowning at not being full anymore, but she quickly made it up to.

Rahu curled herself up into you after moving you to lay on your side and allow you to bury your face into her warm fur. She interlaced her legs through yours and wrapped her arms atound you to try and shield you, while her tail wagged before moving to drape over your thigh.

"Get some sleep." Rahu mumbled while still licking tentatively at your shoulder as you relaxed into her arms.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep from exhaustion in her arms. Rahu kept you completely pressed into her bigger frame, holding you close and inhaling your scent. For now just having you here in her arms was enough to push her heat down to tolerable. When you woke up again you two could continue where you left off.

ENDING NOTES: I want to be fucked and knotted by Rahu. That's the only thought that was going through my head when writing this.

[lucidbee]

Please Don’t Kill My Boyfriend | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: Hermes is an overprotective father.

Word count: 942

Authors note: I wrote this at 2am and didn't proofread before posting, this is definitely not my best work. Please give me requests. 

It was a simple quest all you had to do was kill a group of Echidna that were causing a little too much trouble. A three-day feat at most. When the quest wrapped up on the second day, Percy had the brilliant idea of staying back and relaxing on the way back to camp, instead of sleeping in an alleyway or in the forest with the remaining money we had, we rented two hotel rooms for the night. Grover demanded that he have his own room, stating he could no longer be so close to teenagers in love.  

It started out completely innocent light kisses and words of devotion. It quickly turned into much more when the idea of making up for lost time came into your head. Camp was amazing but it definitely was strict on one thing. No campers of the opposite sex could be alone together. Percy and you had already gotten in trouble trying to sneak you into his cabin late at night, for this exact reason. It was one night of fun that would hopefully be enough to last for a whole summer. That was until a flash of blinding light blinded you both and in front of the bed stood your father. Hermes. 

“You were tasked with killing a monster, not trying to impregnate my daughter,” Hermes angrily shouted, pulling Percy out of bed by his hair.

“I-I  promise that wasn’t my attention sir,” Percy choked out trying to spare the God's wrath. 

“Sure it wasn't, I’ve been alive for thousands of years boy, I have fathered hundreds of children, I am very much aware of what was about to take place in this hotel room,” Hermes growled, dropping Percy onto the floor. Who quickly went to put his pants that were on the floor back on. 

“Dad please it wasn’t like that, we’re teenagers what did you expect to happen?” You called out from underneath the bed sheets.

“You can’t go around sleeping with the son of Posideon y/n.” “You just had to choose the one demi-god that danger follows the most, you could have dated a son of Demeter but nooo.” 

“Take it up with Aphrodite if you don’t want me to love him, we weren’t doing anything wrong,” You cry out, holding the sheets close to yourself as you pick up your clothes from the floor. 

“I am trying to protect you y/n, you’re life is dangerous enough as it is.” Hermes says in a more gentle tone, turning around for you to be able to get dressed. 

“Percy is more than capable of protecting me father, he is the strongest demi-god to ever exist, he has saved Olympus multiple times.” You say while putting on your clothes.

“I still don’t like it, why don’t you take the vow of chastity? Hmm, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Dad please.”

“I would never purposely put your daughter in harms way, I would flood the world to find her, I would cause earthquakes the world has never seen to avenged her, I love her sir.” Percy said coming to stand next to you. 

Hermes turns to face you both with a defeated look on his face. “You wouldn’t stop seeing eachother even if I ordered you two huh?”

“Nope.”

“No, sir.”

“If you ever hurt my daughter fish boy I will hunt you down and destroy everything you love.”

“Of course sir, I wouldn’t expect anything else.” 

“Now come on get in the car im taking you both back to camp,” Hermes says walking to the hotel door. 

You both awkwardly follow behind him; Percy followed you into the backseat of the cab, shutting the door behind him. “ Do you know how to please a woman, fish boy?” Hermes asked climbing into the front seat of the car. 

“DAD” You scream out. Percys face is beat red and a stuttering mess.

“I just want to make sure he will make a good life partner for you, humans don’t understand the whole open relationship thing us Gods do,” Hermes says driving out of the hotel parking lot.

“Does he make you finish y/n? Sex life is very important in a relationship.”

“Dad please stop,” You beg.

“Is he a selfish lover? A son of Posideon would be selfish in bed, I don’t know why you didn’t choose Zeus’s son.” 

“Please I beg of you stop”

“Yes Zeus is a horrible partner, but he atleast makes you finish,” Hermes continues on, ignoring your pleas.

You suffer through the longest car ride of your life. Both of your faces a permanent color of red by the end of it. Hermes wouldn’t let up for the whole car ride, asking you more and more embarrassing questions. Hermes stop at the border of the camp getting out of the cab to grab your bags out of the trunk. 

“Remeber Percy, sex toys are your friend not your enemy,” Hermes says handing the bags off to Percy to carry. 

“I-I will, sir,” Percy stutters out. 

“And y/n rember to pray to me if he causes you any trouble, I’ll cause him the worst pain he has experienced yet,” Your father says taking you into a hug.

“Thanks Dad, I love you.”

Hermes gets back into the cab, driving off as you and Percy take hands walking back into camp. 

“Well that was fun,” I say chuckling.

“It was definitely an experience I would not like to relive again,” Percy says laughing. Taking his first deep breath since your father appeared. 

“Hey Percy?”

“Yeah,” He says turning to look at you.

“We forgot Grover at the hotel.”

“Shit.”

[peachesofteal]

John Price/female reader The Ocean Anthology

You're not overly familiar with wolves.

On the zoology side, you preferred marine animals. As a child, you preferred the aquarium to the zoo, the beach to the park, water instead of land. Something about the sea, floating weightless beneath a tide, modeling your own movements after tail fins and flippers, salt water drying on your skin at the surface.

The wild of the open ocean, unending depths, reaching where light could not touch, soothed something in your heart. It always had.

Which is why, when you looked out your kitchen window into the duplex's shared backyard and saw Aly, seated with criss crossed legs, ten meters from the largest wolf you've ever seen in your life, you screamed.

It was the surprise, twisting your vocal chords into a strangled cry, the shock and fear echoing past the frame of the house and into the gnarled slope, that had Aly turning back to peer at you, had the wolf lowering it's head in what you could only assume was a predatory lean.

"Aly." Your voice trembled when you made it onto the back deck, a hand outstretched, beckoning her back to safety. The wolf inches away, shying from your panic, the scent of your fear souring the breeze. It's stale, and sharp, and your heart thunders in your ears, rapid beat wild in your veins.

She did not even spare you a glance.

"It's okay." She calls over her shoulder. "She'd never hurt me." She? You look around. Where is John?

"Aly. Come inside." Your force yourself steady, pushing authority, what little of it you possess, into the syllables.

And then, a softer plea, from someone who doesn't understand. "Please." The wolf, massive and grey with tinges of orange and brown, watches you, golden, glinting eyes, upper lip curled, revealing devastatingly sharp teeth. It steps away, up into the cover of the trees, drifting into the darkness of the forest, glow of it's face in the morning rays just barely visible.

The little girl sighs, unfolding herself and brushing dirty palms against her coat.

"You scared her." Fogged breath rolls from her mouth, and all you can do is stare, incredulous, as she rolls her eyes and traipses over to her back door, giving you a skeptical look before stepping inside.

What the fuck was that?

You find yourself on a twisted forest path later that night. Unable to sleep, you walk towards the harbor, cutting through a side trail you've seen John on in the mornings, and others, occasionally.

It's just a side trail. Close to the road. You'll be fine.

The woman's warning from your first night at the bar vibrates in your bones.

Skip the shortcuts through the forest at night.

Warnings, pleas, instructions from John, all laid to waste in your trek, bundled up in your warmest jacket, gloves and hat. Your jeans stick to your thighs, cold prickling between the friction, headlamp illuminating the way, red light casting shadow into the forest, a thick fog settled in around the way.

You're not walking long, when you hear the first snap. You whirl, light pointed in the direction of the noise, to find nothing but silent woods, branches hanging low with the weight of icy winter.

Something cracks at your back. Something sharp, splintering through the fog's silence.

Your shoulder's raise. Your lungs go still.

Fear wraps around your throat, and chokes.

Don't look. Don't look.

John's voice echoes in your memory, severe blue gaze and downturned lips, opposite you at the table.

"Run."

You turn on your heel, digging into the dirt, and sprint. Around you, brush crashes. Branches and twigs break. There's a glimpse of paws, long strides eating the distance between yourself and your pursuer, panic bubbling up in your chest as you push yourself to the brink.

Faster.

To your left, a streak of white. Large, and graceful, taking downed logs and large branches with ease, cutting closer and closer, your movements growing clumsy each second.

The road, the house, are eons away. They might as well be on the other side of the earth, sanctuary vanishing before your very eyes.

From your left, from your right, breathing grows louder. Growls and yips and a howl bounce off the density of the darkness, heading you off.

Hunting you.

You can feel them. Wild, untamed lupine prowess stalks closer. Playing with their prey before they close you off from the end of the path completely. You're a child again, running into bed after flicking off the lights, terrified of what lurks beneath your bed. Sprinting up the basement stairs, hoping you'll be safe as soon as you touch the door handle and burst into the light.

Your tears come, sob ripping through your chest, a bleat of terror sounding off like a gunshot. You stay focused on the dark frame that's just in view, trying to outrun the snarling brutality chasing you.

When you find the road, you don't stop. You push yourself harder, faster, until the house is in sight, exhaustion turning your feet into concrete blocks, sending you pitching forward-

into a thick, warm, chest.

"What are you-" hands grip your upper arms, holding you steady, holding you close. An embrace of cedar and cigar, wilderness and ocean wrapping you up.

John.

"I- There- I saw-" You can't get it out. Tongue as clumsy as your limbs, you go limp and tremble.

The forest behind you is dead silent. Still.

"Shhh now." He murmurs, hand cupping the back of your head. It's large, nearly the size of your skull, and you press your nose to his jacket, gasping. "It's alright. You're alright."

"W-wolves." You bite, and his muscles go tense, neck rigid. You can feel torsion, the survey of the land behind you.

You brace for the scolding you know you've earned. The admonishment you deserve. "I'm sorry, I c-couldn't sleep, and thought I'd just... I'd walk. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, love. They're gone. You're safe." Love. The word suggests familiarity, affection, and you blink. He's gentle, still holding you close, grip firm and tense. You should pull away, salvage your dignity, your sanity.

You're a scientist. Not a child. What kind of display is this?

It all falls away, his thumb stroking a slow circle behind your ear. "Let's get you inside, hm?" You nod, still unsteady, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, tucking you close. Adrenaline keeps you in unsteady limbo, hands shaking so badly you're forced to press them against your heart.

He keeps you in his side the entire walk back, murmuring softly, accent lilting on the night's breeze. He helps you with your key when your fingers can't quite get a good grip, pushing your door wide and flicking on the lamp, pale yellow glow comforting in the inky black.

When he sits you down on the couch, you don't protest. He handles you carefully, long touch on your knee, turning with a distant expression, gaze fixed out the window. "Need you to be good and listen to me from now on. Don't want anything happening to ya."

"I know." You croak. You do, now. Before... before, you didn't take any stock in it. Averse to being told what to do, naturally resistant.

Now. Now you see.

"They were so close." you try to explain, avoiding his eyes. "Like they... like they were-"

"Hunting." You look up, big breath trying to fill your lungs, and he gives you a grim smile, palm still cupped over your knee. Something else starts to unfurl in the pit of your stomach, butterflies shaking the terror and spreading their wings, fluttering anxiously against your ribcage. His proximity suffocates you, too warm, too close, and it clouds the space between your bodies, confusion roaring in your mind. He clears his throat.

"Get some sleep." At the door, he turns back one last time, and gives you a nod, expectantly. Like he knows you'll take yourself right upstairs and curl into bed, bury yourself beneath a mountain of blankets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, John."