#also the voice of the doll has a cool chant

[deconstructthesoup]

For my Slay the Professor fans, I'm curious:

[hitnran]

STRESSED (gender neutral! reader)

what they do when you’re stressed

includes: izana, kakucho, ran, rindou, shion, mucho, sanzu, hanma

note: i miss tenjiku

— IZANA KUROKAWA

If you’re stressed out and want Izana to help you out, or at least notice that you’re feeling off, it’s going to be a little bit difficult.

You’d either have to be so on edge where you either blow up or give him the silent treatment where you just want to be alone. In that case, Izana would be very confused. He’d question why you’re acting so weird towards him, not even picking up the possibility that something was bothering you.

He’ll most likely leave you alone for a bit to cool off or until you become yourself again. If he were still curious as to what was up with your attitude earlier, he’d bring it up.

“Why were you ignoring me earlier?” Izana questioned. There was no build up to the question nor hesitation behind asking - he was charismatic enough to be the leader of a gang after all.

You felt a little bad. It was nothing he knew about, yet you took your stress out on him without telling him what was going on. You went on, answering his question, and telling him how stressed out you’ve been lately.

“Well, tell me next time,” Izana sighed, shaking his head. He really wish you would’ve let him know what was going on earlier. He thought so much time was wasted of you ignoring him when it could’ve been so much easier if you had just told him you were stressed.

“Hey,” Izana called out to you.

You turn your head in his direction and a hand was placed against your cheek. Izana doesn’t often show his affection, but when he does, he does it in the most intimate moments to let you know how much he loves you.

He peppers your lips with kisses, pulling you into his chest and softening his voice, “Don’t stress over it so much; you’re just wasting your time.”

— KAKUCHO HITTO

If you’re stressed, Kakucho’s going to immediately know. It’s apart of his character to pick up on the behaviors of those who he is nearby. If you’re feeling off, he’s going to try his best to help you through it.

Kakucho would firstly make sure you’re comfortable. He’d lay you down, make sure you’ve eaten first, and massage your muscles of any tension. He’d then slowly ease into asking you if anything had happened.

You tell him how stressed you’ve been with things occurring in your life whether it be major or minor or both. He listens into every word, nodding and speaking here and there to show that he is attentive. When you’re done with your venting, Kakucho would surprisingly give you good advice to help you through it.

If it’s a situation that he can’t completely speak on or help you with, he still wants you to know that he is there for you. There’s no reason for him to apologize, but he does it anyway because he feels such empathy for you and doesn’t want his lover to be so upset.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, love,” He’ll say, his eyes evidently filled with worry.

Kakucho would pull you in closer, rubbing your back and asking you if there was anything else he could give you.

“Just hold me,” You murmured into his arms.

“I planned to do that all along,” His soft chuckle was already enough to boost your mood.

— RAN HAITANI

It is quite easy for Ran to tell when you are stressed as well. It may be an older sibling instinct, but he picks up on small things especially behavioral.

Just in case it might just be him being paranoid though, he’ll also ease into it. Maybe he’ll joke around and tease you a little bit before confirming that something was up.

“Babe,” He calls out to you.

You silently hum as a response, not giving him the proper attention he wanted. In that case, Ran will just throw himself onto you, locking you in his arms until you tell him what’s wrong. Sometimes it gives you a headache, especially if you just wanna be alone. Usually Ran would give you space if you wanted it, but only if you tell him first.

“What’s wrong?” Ran asks you, running a hand down your back to soothe you.

You tell him how you have been stressed and he takes in all the information. In the end, he knows there isn’t much he can do about it himself, so the best thing Ran will do is just get your mind off of it.

He’ll ask if you want to go outside, maybe just for a ride on his bike or to be treated with your favorite dessert. If staying in is something you’d prefer, he’d run you a bath and pamper you, clearing his entire day just to spend with you.

— RINDOU HAITANI

A lot like Izana, Rindou’s not going to pick up that easy on you being stressed. He just takes it as you being slightly annoyed by inconveniences in your life; which for him, happens a lot, but you aren’t him.

He’ll only pick up on it if you obviously show that you’re stressed whether it be raising your voice, crying, or wanting to be alone. But prior to it, he won’t really approach the situation very well.

“What is up with you?” Rindou raised an eyebrow, wondering why you were acting so off. “You’re being so bothersome right now.”

Rindou is very blunt, and sometimes, he doesn’t think about what he says before saying it. You know this, but with your emotions all over the place, you couldn’t help but cry in front of him.

His knees will lock up in place and he’ll start sweating. It’s not often you cry, so when you do, he genuinely doesn’t know what to do. Rindou just panics and he drops his ‘cool act,’ putting his hands all over you and sitting you down to calm you down.

“Shit,” Rindou panics. He pulls you in for a hug, chanting words of how he’s sorry. “I’m sorry, baby. Did something happen? Did I make it worse?”

You calm yourself down, catching your breath before speaking. When he hears how you’ve been feeling lately, he feels so guilty for not picking up on it earlier.

He’ll lay you down, softening his touch and his voice, and just allow you to talk it out until the conversation heads into another direction and you two are either talking about some silly topic or have fallen asleep.

— SHION MADARAME

Shion is exactly the kind of guy who is ‘asshole to the world but not to his S/O.’ He switches up and makes a complete 180 around you.

He truly cannot believe that he has someone like you in his life and the last thing he wants to do is make a mistake. Sometimes, Shion is a little too on edge and cautious. Even if nothing is wrong, he’ll still ask things like ‘am I doing okay?’ or ‘how are you feeling?’ He just wants you happy.

But when you’re irritated about whatever it is going on in your life, Shion starts panicking on how to approach the situation. He’ll start losing it even more if you begin to cry.

“Ah?” Shion’s eyes widen and his mouth gapes, seeing you have a breakdown. He gulps hard, immediately pulling you into a hug. “D-Don’t cry? Ah, fuck.”

The best way for him to deal with you is to just make you laugh. Shion is a very funny guy, even when he doesn’t intend to be funny. Just seeing him panic so much is already making you laugh with how he’s running around.

He calms down a bit when you emit a small laughter, eyes still puffy and red. Shion will loosen his shoulders, wiping your tears off with his thumb and asking what happened and if there’s anything he can do.

— YASUHIRO MUTO (mucho)

Mucho is a quiet guy. He only speaks when he feels like it’s necessary and isn’t afraid to put in his opinion. With you, it’s the same but he’s a little bit more cautious with what he says.

Instead, he’ll silently observe you. As someone who dealt with getting rid of rats within Toman, he’s very keen on behavior that is different from the norm. He noticed your sentences cut short and your breath becoming more prolonged and exaggerated.

“Something happen?” He’ll finally give in, pulling you down into his lap and massaging your shoulders. “You look stressed.”

Although he doesn’t speak much, the words he says in reply to you venting to him is rather good advice. Even if it were just a couple of words, you know that he means every bit of it.

“You’ll get through it, I know it,” Mucho says, placing a kiss on your neck. “And if not, that’s okay too. We aren’t made to succeed in everything.”

— HARUCHIYO SANZU

Sanzu’s way of dealing with his own stress is to isolate himself until he feels like the situation as passed to where he can finally go back to acting ‘normal’ again.

Sanzu is also very observant, so if he sees that you’re stressed out, he’ll also probably leave you alone for a bit unless you tell him or give signs that you want him.

He’s not going to ask you what’s wrong until later on - if it were important, he’d want you to just tell him upfront. But if you didn’t tell him, then he just assumes that it’s an issue that will pass.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He’ll still put in the effort in small ways like still making sure you’ve eaten, making sure that your space is clean, etc.

He’ll be patiently waiting for you to ease down. When Sanzu sees you finally showing yourself to him, he spreads out his legs a bit to signal to you that he’s free to talk to.

You place yourself in his lap and he cradles you. He’ll stare at you, waiting for you to say something before he can engage. If it’s someone who bothered you, Sanzu might consider ways to deal with them in private (but you always tell him that it’s not that serious). Otherwise, he’ll just listen and want to get your mind off of it.

— SHUJI HANMA

Hanma spends a lot of time with you throughout the day. He doesn’t see anything wrong with just wanting to use all of that time on someone he loves. If he’s bored, he’ll go over your place.

When he enters your place, he knew something was off. You didn’t even greet him at the door and that just won’t do.

Hanma will scoop you up, your face close to his, “Now what’s goin’ on, doll? Someone piss you off today?”

Hanma is surprisingly really easy to talk to. He nods in between your sentences, showing that he’s paying attention. Sometimes, he’ll plug in jokes here and there to hopefully get a laugh out of you.

“You’re stressed? Then stop being stressed,” Hanma teases, squishing the sides of your face before kissing you. He’ll latch himself into you, “Just give me that attention instead.”

[thefanficmonster]

Vulnerability

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: With the only person he’s ever truly cared about, the only person who can calm him down and force him to take care of himself and balance his life out is taken from him, it’s safe to say the takers are bound to pay.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so sorry for the long wait you’ve had to endure but here it finally is - I hope you still come across the fic and take the time to read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do so, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“THAT BITCH DID WHAT?!“

The unlucky maid that was sent to Heisenberg’s factory as an alternate way to be killed rather than turned into wine cowers in fear as the metal-controlling man sends the majority of the objects around them flying across the room, crashing into against the walls in his state of uncontrollable anger that has the girl frightened to no end. Although, if she’s being honest, Heisenberg has every right to be furious right now. Who wouldn’t be after being told their enemy snatched their lover to use as blackmail.

And this poor maid was the messenger who had to deliver the news to Heisenberg about two days after the capturing of Y/N, Karl’s lover.

The two weren’t known to be a couple by anyone but rumors started floating around - especially among the rest of the Lords - when they kept seeing this woman around the factory and by Heisenberg’s side, sometimes even during the meetings of the Lords.

Leaving her out in the open and so vulnerable, so easy to be grabbed by the filthy, ill-meaning hands of the Dimitrescus, is a fault of his own he’ll never get over. He’ll never not regret not keeping a watchful eye on her at all times, even when she claimed she needed space after the two had an argument.

When that happens - though rarely, it still happens - Y/N tends to wander off, either in the village or in a complete separate part of the factory which is thankfully large enough for them both to enjoy their privacy without running into each other unless they want to. So, when Karl hadn’t heard from Y/N for a day and a half he didn’t think much of it, seeing as how she had a tendency of leaving him in silence for a day or two to cool her head and let him cool his and avoid further complications of their argument.

But when she didn’t show even after those regular forty eight hours of silence, Karl started worrying. And, as he’s come learn only minutes ago, he was right to do so - Alcina had snatched Y/N while the girl was walking around the outskirts, not far away from the factory itself. The girl barely had time to scream before being knocked out cold and dragged to the Dimitrescu castle.

Heisenberg should’ve known showing off his vulnerability so openly would only bring him headaches and heartaches - he knew having a vulnerability in the first place would be a huge inconvenience and a risk, especially when said vulnerability is vulnerable in and of itself.

“What does that bitch want?!“ He growls at the girl who’s gone as pale as a ghost, looking so tiny and fragile in comparison to the enraged man towering over her. He’s already taller and bigger than her, but this anger only adds to his huge presence and intimidating appearance.

“S-she told me to tell you her and M-Mother Miranda knew of...your plans. They’ll give you back the girl when you agree to lay off the plans and...“ The girl trails off, terrified of the reaction she’ll receive for the last bit of the negotiation.

“And?!“ Karl has no patience for reluctance and most certainly has no time to waste when the girl he loves is in the clutches of one of the people he’d want to drain the life out of with his own two hands. 

“And, as proof, burn the factory down...with everything in it.“ The girl finishes, grimacing and hiding her face behind her arms when she does, expecting to be hit or screamed at or even killed. This man has never been in his right mind to begin with let alone now that the most important person in his life has been taken from him and is in grave danger.

The long moment of silence she’s met with surprises her. It’s gotta be the calm before the storm, she thinks to herself, slowly lowering her arms to look around in search of the man who she thinks has already left the room. But no, Karl is standing in front of her, wearing a smile upon his face. A menacing one. One promising that it is indeed the calm before the storm.

“Alright.“ He says in a scarily light-hearted tone of voice, one that is so calm it sends chills down the maid’s spine, “Return to your Mistress and report back that I agree to her terms as long as Y/N’s delivered to me by tomorrow morning.“

The maid cannot believe her ears nor her eyes but there he is - Karl Heisenberg, the most dangerous of the Lords, agreeing to drop his reputation in the water to save the love of his life. All with an unfaltering smile across his face.

                                                               *  *  *

“Mother Miranda? I’m calling with some great news to share with you.“ Alcina Dimitrescu smiles a pleased smile as she looks at her reflection in the vanity mirror before her, “Heisenberg has chosen to stand down. Yes Mother, you heard me correctly, the stupid man-thing has chosen the pathetic woman over his own reign which I’m sure he wouldn’t have had the chance to carry out anyway thanks to your unmatched power, Mother Miranda, but now it’s official. He’s taken the ultimatum and has agreed to all the terms we laid out for him. In exchange, he hopes to get the girl back by tomorrow morning.“ A reply comes from the other side and Alcina laughs a low, mocking laugh, “Oh, he will be receiving her tomorrow morning, he needn’t worry. I’ll make sure to send him the wine bottles she’ll help us produce.“ The other woman on the line laughs as well, filling the Vampire Mistress with a sense of pride and accomplishment. “I have no doubt the gift will find him we-“ The tall woman’s word die down in her throat when a sharp pain spreads throughout her chest, leaving her breathless and disoriented. The ache spreads to her head where the screams of her daughters echo like an agonizing chant.

“Mother! Mother please help us! 

“Mother these monsters will kill us!“

“Mother, save us!“

The hurting mother drops the phone, attempting to get up to her feet, just to be knocked back down by the intense pain. The pain of a mother losing her daughters.

The daughters that were about to gruesomely murder Karl’s lover in the dungeons right below the castle. The three vampire girls were no match for Heisenberg and his army of lycans which he unleashed upon the whole castle, sending them in search of Y/N who he was quick to find in the dark torture chambers, beaten and bloodied but alive nonetheless.

“Darling, please, talk to me. Don’t do this to me, Y/N, please wake up.“ Karl ducks down in front of the seemingly lifeless body of Y/N, taking her face in his hands, gently holding her head up after he unchained her from the cuffs and contraptions meant to ensure her escape impossible. “Look at me, doll, come on. You’re safe now, you’re safe. Those bitches won’t live to see the light of day tomorrow let alone thing to bring you harm again.“

Although exhausted and weakened past the point of a lifeless doll, Y/N manages to force her eyes open and look into the concerned ones of her lover, Karl. “You came for me.”

“And what else was I gonna do, Y/N?“ He asks softly, gently smoothing back the hair stuck to her sweaty and bloodied forehead, “I would’ve come sooner had I known...“

She cuts him off, “But you didn’t, and that’s ok, you couldn’t have known. I knew you’d save me eventually. I never lost hope.” Her voice is coarse and low, each word painful to push past her sore throat. “I knew you would never let me die.”

“I could never, doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.“ He presses his forehead against hers lovingly, allowing her a moment to catch her breath before carefully swiping her up in his arms, “Come on, angel, let’s go home.“

Y/N may be his vulnerability, but she’s also his greatest strength. Without her, he would’ve never taken revenge on the Dimitrescus and would’ve never been this determined to end Miranda’s reign and ruin her plans. Without her, he would be half the man he is now.

[lady-z-writes]

Plaything

Heisenberg x fem!reader fic below the cut:

Summary: Reader works for BSAA and is scoping out the village until you get captured by none other than Heisenberg who doesn’t take well to trespassers. Once he learns of your hatred for your job, he wants the information you have and he doesn’t have to try hard to get it. You find yourself drinking, fireside, with him and can’t help but let him touch you. Angie said he’d needed a plaything and, well, you’re it.

TW: smut

Tears prickle in your eyes as you continue climbing the snow-covered hill. Your black boots crunching on the snow and the whistling of wind have been the only sounds in your ears for the last hour or so. Your teammates stumble behind you – silent – as you’re taught to be. You aren’t exactly sure what lies beyond these woods, but the feeling in your gut after talking to those villagers made you nauseous.

There’s a bridge just ahead and you glance over your shoulder at the two teammates before stepping foot on the brick. Your long black cloak whips around your knees as the wind picks up over the clearing. This armor was not made for winter weather.

It’s almost too late to pull out your gun when the three of you get knocked down by metal pieces whirling by. Your reaction time is good, taking cover just as one of your teammates gets sliced across the jugular. Bullets firing at something just beyond the bridge, you aim and fire as well at something you can only describe as a zombie. It takes the two of you to bring it down and once you do, you scurry to reload your assault rifle.

Now that things seem clear, your teammate stumbles to the body to inspect the damage. Fear still has its grips on you and you find it hard to speak, but you want to shout out to take cover. Did that thing bring those metal pieces? Were they alone?

You don’t have time for another thought before more metal objects shoot toward you both, making tears appear in your cloak. Something gets you across the cheek and you cry out as another object gets lodged in your thigh. Pulling it out, you toss it down and aim your rifle toward the bridge again.

Another one of those things has your teammate against the snow, ripping into him like a starved creature. As you turn back, your gun is torn from your hands by a sudden force. Metal comes flying passed you, hitting you upside the head and knocking you to the ground. You groan at the pain, but try to stand or shift away from your attacker.

A man in a hat and a long coat slowly approaches while wielding a large hammer. The metal seems to circle around him as he tosses away your gun.

“And what do we have here?”

“Please…stop…” you cough out, the cold air stinging your lungs from all your gasping.

This must be one of the Lords the villagers spoke of – Heisenberg, was it? Your team had been heading toward the factory. You didn’t have time to think of much more before he stands above you, inspecting you.

“Wrong place for a walk,” he hums. “Last of your kind?” he looks around at the two others lying dead in the snow. “Three of you? Hardly seems right.”

Tears stream down your face, anger at the BSAA for even making you come on this mission.

“I’ll tell you anything,” you gasp out. “Please. Please…” you’re blubbering and you know it, but the fear is real and burning in your chest. “I didn’t even want to do this.”

A clanging of metal beside you causes you to look back up at him. There’s a monster to his left that growls at you but he shoves it back.

“Is that so?” he squints at you from under his sunglasses. The moment lasts too long. You know he’s about to kill you too. “Alright then.”

A swipe of his hand and a gear kicks up to knock you upside the head and everything goes black.

•••

When you come-to, you’re being carried, slung over his shoulder like you’re weightless. You shift slightly, groaning.

“Quit moving, you’ll reopen your wounds. Don’t want you bleeding all over me.”

You can’t tell if you’re having a nightmare or if this is real but the snowy landscape is no longer hurting your eyes. Instead, you’re being carried through a dark threshold, brick and arches and high windows: a church.

Right when you’re getting used to the sway of things as he walks, you’re tossed down harshly onto cobblestone. Well, that’s a bruise. But you’re alive. For now.

There are a million questions on your lips but they all halt when you see the scene before you: a small doll-like creature prances in front of you, hopping over a few more of your dead teammates. The doll scurries over to a tall black figure with her face covered, passing by an oversized woman with a large hat and a sleek black cigarette holder in hand. The man from before flops down in a pew and leans back, ignoring the groaning from behind him as a hunchback monstrous creature lurks in the shadows. Standing before the windows is an almost angelic figure with a dark cloak and a headdress, looking poised and bored.

You cower away from the death around you, biting your tongue as your headache pounds. Ryan and Erin, two colleagues that went toward the flooded fishing village, are oozing blood and a pus-like green goo. You want to throw up, but you scoot backwards as far as possible, trying to keep your back to the wall.

More metal pieces come flying around you; scoot you back toward the group, shove you from behind until you’re standing on shaking, bleeding legs.

“This is all that’s left?” the voice comes from the angelic figure and you cautiously look beside you to note that there are, in fact, four survivors – mostly from the group who went to the castle.

“Yes, Mother. May I suggest you give them all to me? Our last batch of survivors went to Moreau and my daughters are quite…eager…for visitors.”

These must be the ones the villagers spoke of.

“Your appetite amazes me, oh supersized one,” the one with the hammer speaks up; Lord Heisenberg, you’re still assuming. “By all means, take the measly men. But this one comes with me.” He points at you. “I found her just outside of my factory. And I don’t take well to uninvited guests.”

“He wants a plaything,” the doll chants in a singsong voice.

“Shut the fuck up, Angie,” he snaps, losing his cool. “Look, enjoy your mandick; play chase around the castle – whatever. She was on my property.”

Your stomach flips at the look he shoots you. There’s a sinister smile but you find comfort in the fact that he didn’t kill you before. Maybe…-

“Done. Take your prizes and go,” the angelic one waves off.

When the tall one stands, your stomach drops as you look up at her. Long blades grow from her nails and she shoves them through the wrists of your colleagues, like skewers. As she passes, she bends toward you, cuts the top of your hand. You’re in shock when she presses her mouth to your wound, lapping up the blood.

“Move it along, you big-hatted, mouth-breathing bitch.”

“Heisenberg, you petulant child!” her claws come to swipe down at who is now confirmed as Heisenberg, but he raises his hammer above him to block.

“Be gone!” the angelic one shouts at them.

Heisenberg grabs your wrist and hauls you forward, onto a giant plate of metal. His powers link metal around your wrists like handcuffs before he knocks you unconscious again.

•••

Your body is throbbing by the time you wake. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, you glance around in the dim lighting. A bed is shoved in one corner, but the room is pretty bare. One wall is a large row of tool benches with metal scraps and tools strewn about. Heisenberg sits on a rolling stool, tinkering with something.

You exhale shakily, sitting up and noting the cuffs still in place – your fingers going numb.

“Ah, finally came-to, hm?” he spins to face you. “I was about to douse you with water.” He stands, towers over you, pulls you to your feet by the handcuffs. “Come, let’s talk.” He motions to the chair. You sit, shaky. “Heisenberg,” he tips his hat. “And you are…?”

“Y/n.”

“What are you, y/n?”

“I-I work for BSAA,” you glance over at the files on his desk, wondering how much he knows. He doesn’t stop you so you assume he’s at least privy to that. “My team was on a mission here to get information on this village…and, well, you.”

“Flattered,” he hums. “I’ll cut to the chase: there’s a reason you’re still alive. You have information. You could be useful…what did you mean when you said you didn’t want to do this?”

You gulp as he circles you. “I…was on a mission before and stumbled across some information that they want to keep quiet. I tried to quit, but they won’t let me leave.” You don’t know why you’re telling him all this. You wonder if maybe it’ll help you stay alive. Maybe he’s telling the truth.

“You said you’d tell me. Well, kitten, spill…” the powerful way he’s standing over you is intimidating but also slightly attractive and you’re kicking yourself for thinking that of your captor.

“BSAA is using bioweapons and plan to investigate the mold in this location to further advance the bioweapons program.”

He pauses. “That’s quite the mouthful.”

You laugh, despite the situation. “It’s quite the burden.” He tilts his head slightly.

“Do you know of Mother Miranda?”

You shake your head. “Just what the villagers told me. They seem…devout.” You search for the right word.

Heisenberg rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ mindless idiots is what they are…”

After a pause, you finally find the guts to say, “I gave you information…will you uncuff me?” you add a, “please” for good measure.

“You’re not thinking of attacking me, are you?”

“And risk a gear to the throat? No, thanks.”

This elicits a laugh from him. He snaps the cuffs right off.

“I like you.”

Rubbing your wrists, you glance up at him while he glares down at you.

“Back there, at the church…thank you for taking me back here. Sounds like I would have been a meal if I would have gone with my colleagues.”

He huffs. “She’d eat you up.” The comment is dripping with innuendo and the cheeky smirk he shoots you makes your stomach flip. There’s something alluring about this guy. Maybe you hit your head too many times today. “But you’re welcome.” The moment hangs in the air and he’s clearly uncomfortable with it so he saunters off out of the room. “You drink?” he calls.

“Poison, no. Alcohol? I could.” He clearly likes the quips because another laugh comes from him.

“All I got’s whiskey,” he returns with a chipped-up coffee mug and a liquor bottle. You hold the mug as he pours and you can’t help but shake – from fear or cold…

He notices. “Got you all cut up,” he finally acknowledges the tattered clothing, the dried blood on your wounds. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

Your mind goes tons of places, but never did you imagine him leading you through dark rooms to reach an outdoor balcony where an almost makeshift firepit sits. You’re guided to a bench and he hands you the liquor bottle so he can get the fire started.

The stars out here are stunning; it’s unlike anything you’ve seen. The cool breeze chills you through, making you hold your torn cloak tighter. When the fire lights and the whoosh of warmth meets your face, you almost moan.

Out here, in the silence, under the stars – you could sleep…

“She took me,” Heisenberg startles you from your mental break. You hand over the whiskey as he approaches. “Mother Miranda isn’t really my mother.” He takes off his sunglasses, rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

You sit quietly and listen to his tale of woe; moved by how troubling it is. By the time you’re halfway through your coffee mug of whiskey, he’s pouring you some more.

“Do you remember your family? Your real family?”

“I do…I do have memories,” he nods. “Everything else was destroyed – except this factory.”

“Did Miranda have something to do with that?”

He blinks at you, keeps drinking from the bottle. You know your answer.

You’re getting the tingling feeling in your fingers and the heat from the fire has made you remove your cloak; leaving you in just your fitted top and ripped pants. Heisenberg’s eyes trail over your skin, his tongue glides across his lower lip momentarily.

“Why did you really bring me here?” you find yourself asking, leaning closer to him.

“If you’re cold, I can take you inside…” he ignores you, but you keep up your intense stare.

“Were they right? Did you want a plaything?” maybe it’s the drink but you feel emboldened to overstep.

His mouth opens then shuts and then he’s grinding his teeth.

“You have no idea…” the growl that leaves his throat sends chills through you.

He practically spills the whiskey with how quickly he lunges at you, mouth connecting with yours in a heated kiss. When you’d first met, you’d assumed his advances would kill you. Now, you’re thinking something else completely.

Your hands grip at his jacket, pull him closer until he’s seated beside you and then you’re in his lap. He tastes like whiskey and smoke. He’s tense beneath you, almost holding his breath.

His hands rip at your clothes and before you know it, you’re topless in his lap. His eyes hungrily take you in before you feel his facial hair against your soft skin as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His fingers massage the other nipple and you feel teeth gently on you.

He’s hard already and you shamelessly grind against him, hoping to relieve some of the pressure you’re feeling as well. The air feels colder when his mouth pops off you.

“I needed a distraction,” you hum as his lips trail to your neck.

“Pants off. Now,” he mutters.

“You just like to bend ‘em right over, huh?” you laugh. “Okay, Jesus…” but his hands are already fumbling with your snap and zip until he gets frustrated and just rips them off. The need he has is alluring.

He picks you up, turns, slams you down, and gets on his knees before you. You’re stripped completely naked for him, clothes discarded and forgotten as he hums at the sight of you on this cold night. The fire and the feeling of his hands on you keeps you warm enough.

“Pretty,” he moans. “So fuckin’ pretty…”

In the flickering firelight, you catch the tent of his pants. His hands spread your legs then he shifts your knees over his shoulders as he leans between your thighs. Open-mouthed kisses leave you moaning, covering your mouth.

“No,” he mutters. “Let me hear you.”

It’s only when you’ve proven that you will make noise that he lets his mouth trail to your pussy. A flat tongue glides over your folds and you moan loudly, head thrown back as he flicks your clit with a pointed tongue. He’s lapping at you and eating you out like a man starved.

“Ungh…Heisenberg,” you begin to whisper.

“-Karl,” he corrects before he inserts a finger into your dripping pussy.

You’re practically screaming his name when he finds your g-spot that quickly. The pace he’s finger-fucking you at mixed with the potentially public location and the talented tongue, you’re on the edge of something spectacular.

“M’close,” you whisper out, feet digging into his back.

Karl moans. “Come for me, y/n. And then I want you to come on my cock.”

Those words send you barreling toward your orgasm. Your fingers grip his hair as you grind toward his face.

“Ah, fuck…” you cry out.

“Good girl,” he coos, suckling a mark on your inner thigh. You’re ushering him up, yanking at his coat, pulling him into you. Your lips meet as you fumble with his belt and his pants. He helps you, both of your breathing erratic. “So eager,” he chuckles between kisses.

“Want to feel you,” you hum. “Please, Karl?”

“Mmmm, I like you begging.” His pants fall and he lays you down on the bench. “Be a good girl and take my cock.”

He trails the tip along your wetness, teasing you, before he sheaths himself inside. Your back arches off the bench and you let out a whine from the way he’s stretching you.

“Fuck, so big…” you moan, reaching to pull him down.

He shifts your left leg over his shoulder and pounds into you the best he can on this bench. It’s harsh and the bench is digging into your back in an uncomfortable way, but you’re enjoying this.

You’re meeting him thrust-for-thrust, hands tracing over his torso.

“Get undressed.”

He grunts, “Too cold.” You smack him on the arm and the way he glares at you… “You little brat,” he growls. “Do you want to get off again or should I stop holding back?” You shake your head. “Then get off.”

You nod against his chest as he shifts a hand to play with your clit. The pressure and new angle he’s hitting you at, you can’t help but cuss and grip at him. The feel of him bottoming out, of how surprising this pleasure was…you hadn’t expected this when you met him on that bridge. You’re rutting against him, pulling him down harsher until he pounds into you with such intensity.

There’s an echo of a scream that reverberates around you – it’s yours. The fire crackling is your only response until Karl chuckles against your neck.

You can feel your muscles tensing around his thick cock; an orgasm nearing once more. You’re kissing his neck and praising him; caught up in this moment under the stars. The consistent pressure against your g-spot; one more thrust and you’re a goner – moaning against his chest and kissing and biting – gone mad with the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck…” he’s sloppy suddenly, bottoming out and hitting the same spot repeatedly until you feel him rutting harsher, spilling inside of you.

Your gasping sounds louder than the roaring fire and the two of you lay there uncomfortably; Karl not resting his whole weight on you, his forehead pressed against your chest as he huffs out.

The chill in the air stings against your completely naked body, worse now with the sweat.

“That was…unexpected,” you laugh.

“Maybe for you,” he shrugs.

You shiver as he gets off you. He removes his jacket to give it to you and you eagerly shove your arms in it, thankful for the warmth from his body heat.

“Can we go inside?” you shiver.

He meets your gaze. “Don’t think I’m finished with you.”

“Oh?” you tease. “I need some rest. This jackass attacked me earlier…”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me regret stopping that oversized bitch from taking you.”

“You said you needed a plaything…” you hum. “How long did you plan to keep me?”

Karl groans. “Get inside so you can ride my cock and then I’ll make my decision.”

You smirk at him, quite enjoying this newfound thing.

“Bring the whiskey.”

[celestialrequiem]

Days of Candy Chapter 2

Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.

Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader

This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.

Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.

Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.

I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal

Flip your lid - go crazy

Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes

Word count: 5.6k

“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively

You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body

“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.

“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard

You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.

You felt your heart beat.

“No, its okay its a walking distance”  

“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”

You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?

Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?

He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth

You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”

He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.

You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground

He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.

He hums in approval

“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.

You pause, feeling tensed.

“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.

He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.

You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.

But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited

“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin

You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.

“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly

You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 

“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.

You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….

Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?

Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.

“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping

He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.

As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.

You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.

-

After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.

You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.

This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.

Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..

His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.

“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in

“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.

You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.

-

The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.

Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendezvous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you

“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle

Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.

“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.

You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.

“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you

He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.

His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.

You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.

You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.

-

After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.

The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.

He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.

“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.

You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.

“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.

“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.

Oh thank God-

but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.

He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.

“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him

What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?

But we are not married why would he??

You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.

“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.

“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.

As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.

This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.

You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.

This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.

He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.

You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”

He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.

A deep growl leaves his chest

He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.

You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.

Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.

This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.

You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?

His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.

You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  

he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  

You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy

Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?

You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 

“Duncan, I don’t feel good”

He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.

“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.

“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly

your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?

“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.

He didn’t hear you. Thank God

he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”

He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.

You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.

He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.

He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.

You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.

“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself

“Sir” where did that come from?

Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.

His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.

Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.

“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”

You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.

he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?

Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot

You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”

Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?

You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments

You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”

You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.

He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.

He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.

-

You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?

-

After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.

He reclined his head back to the head restraint,

“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"

He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.

A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”

His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him

He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.

After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.

Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.

“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal

“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear

“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy

“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice

A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.

He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.

He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.

As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.

Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.

-

Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.

With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.

-

You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.

At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.

You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.

You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.

Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.

Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.

You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”

“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.

Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone

“Hey Y/N?”

“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.

“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.

She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.

Why twice?

Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?

Does his sister know?

To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.

You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”

You thought about what Carissa thought.

This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.

What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.

“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“

You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”

“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly

There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.

Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.

“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile

The line goes dead.

-

You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.

You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?

His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.

“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.

It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.

“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.

“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.

He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.

“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention

“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”

There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen

You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?

He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face

Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.

Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files

"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.

He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”

He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”

“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly

“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure

You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?

“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.

You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?

“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”

You nod with a fake smile.

Do you have a choice?

-

Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.

It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.

Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.

Phone rings once

Duncan takes the call.

“Whats the update?”

“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”

Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively

“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice

“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”

His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.

“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-

“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.

“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  

“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.

The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.

He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.

some songs mentioned in the chapter

https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble

https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon

Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 

@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 

@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe

[skrltwtch]

The Witch and the Werewolf

Prompt: A is a witch that lives in a nice, quiet cottage in the woods, with their closest (and pretty much only) neighbour being B. B will sometimes come over — for spells/potions/to say hello/etc. — and has expressed their concern for A several times, because it really isn’t all that safe to live alone in the middle of the woods. A is confident that they can protect themselves, but is always wary on the full moon when they can hear howling unlike any wolf they’ve ever heard … One night, while the full moon shines overhead, A finds the source of the howling — an injured werewolf that’s whimpering on A’s doorstep. A cares for the beast, and looks after it until morning when it changes back into human form … and is revealed to be B. (Source in master list)

Word count: 3,915 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

References: 1 Goo Goo Dolls’ “Black Balloon”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

‘A visitor! We have a visitor!’ the windchimes … chimed.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered if it’d be worth enchanting them to be able to tell me who was at the door at such moments as well. It wouldn’t be hard — at least, I reckoned it’d take the same amount of effort as making them somewhat sentient, which wasn’t much at all, really — and I was a competent witch, a statement I dared to own the fuck out of. The thing was, what would I do with this information? The visitors I had — few and far between, bar one habitué — were none I’d want to turn away.

‘Especially your habitué,’ said Broomstick, who’d stopped grooming herself just to deliver this hot take fresh out of the oven. ‘Being fancy, aren’t we, with the accent? “Habitué”. Rolls right off the tongue.’

‘It is your habitué!’ the windchimes said, incapable of not speaking in exclamation marks all the time. Inside voices: what were they? Also, there went my idea. Cool, cool. Guess I sometimes didn’t know the full extent of the spells I came up with until after the fact.

Standing up to receive, yes, the one steady visitor I’d never refuse the chance to see, I said, ‘Can we — can we please not start calling him that? He has a name.’ Broomstick feigned not registering the glower I directed at her. I knew she saw it. I knew she knew what she’d started.

‘Jacob! Jacob! Jacob!’ the windchimes chanted, like children repeating a word they shouldn’t.

Fucking hell. Sentient household items and talking animals were overrated, I tell you.

‘Rubbish. You’d miss us in a heartbeat if anything happened to us,’ said Broomstick.

‘Shut! Stop listening in on my internal monologue!’ I said. ‘It’s a violation of my privacy.’

‘Is it now? I walk around with my nether regions exposed all day, and you don’t hear me making a fuss about it.’

‘That’s different. You won’t let me put a dress on you.’

‘I said it a thousand times, and I’ll say it again: clothes on animals are unnatural, Emilia.’

‘A visitor! We have a visitor!’ said the windchimes. ‘Jacob! Jacob! Jacob!’ Had this exchange broken them?

‘I’m coming!’ I said. As my parting shot, I pointed at Broomstick threateningly. It was in jest, of course: there was nothing that made her beholden to me, and there was nothing I could offer her to be beholden to me. Truth be told, I liked to think she simply liked my company.

… She didn’t take the bait.

I went to get the door. Lo and behold, it was my habitué, Jacob, dressed in his Sunday best — for the farmers market, as was his routine, the very same thing that helped put food on our tables. In his arms was a basket of crops: myriad mushrooms, fresh-smelling ginseng, elderberries, a jar of maple syrup, and a small bouquet of wild bergamots in the loveliest shade of lilac.

‘Good morning, Emilia,’ he said. ‘The best of the bunch for my favourite witch.’

‘Good morning, Jacob,’ I said, taking the basket from him. ‘Thank you as always. Sorry for keeping you waiting at the door.’

‘It’s okay. Broomstick giving you lip?’

‘What’s new, pussycat?’

‘Do you have any plans for today?’

‘Other than brewing stock for the coming week? Not really. Maybe I’ll bake something.’

‘I’ll keep a nose out for that “something”.’

‘Then I will bake something.’ I smiled. I liked it whenever he’d come over. Nothing quite held a candle to the company of good, human friends, and he was a sterling specimen of this group. ‘My only friend,’ Broomstick would say, and I was inclined to agree with her on the condition that ‘around here’ was a qualifier. ‘How about you?’

‘Cycling, perhaps, after teatime. Then a spot of laundry, dinner, and an early night for me. Hold your applause. It’s all very exciting, I know.’

‘Bummer. I was going to ask if you’d like to come over for dinner and watch the moon after. It’s a full moon tonight — the Full Flower Moon, so it’s a special one for the both of us.’

‘Really? I’d love to, but the farmers market always gets me knackered. Sorry.’

‘It’s alright. I guess I could watch it with our neighbourhood wolf.’

‘What?’

‘What do you mean, “What”?’

‘“Neighbourhood wolf”?’

‘Yeah. Don’t you hear it at night? Okay, it’s not every night — it’s more like, every full moon.’

‘I … never noticed.’

‘What? No. You couldn’t have not noticed.’ For one, it didn’t sound like any wolf I’d ever heard. It was … like a broken, haunted reimagining of the wolf’s melodious warble — or a little like someone had stuck the latter in a grinder, depending on who you asked under this roof. The timing was a little suspect, too … I didn’t doubt their existence. (It’d be … silly of me to, to say the least …?) I would like to come across one someday. I only hoped we’d both exit the encounter unscathed. I didn’t like the idea of using my magic to cause harm to another living creature. I’d never had a reason to do so, and I wouldn’t ever want there to be one, notwithstanding whatever reputation the other party had.

‘I’m a heavy sleeper.’

‘I envy you.’

‘Has this wolf — uh — have you heard anything about this wolf doing anything … bad?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s been a good boy.’

‘Well … be careful, nonetheless. I heard lone wolves — assuming it’s one — are more dangerous. It really isn’t safe for you to be living out here alone.’

‘Don’t be silly. I have you.’ Honestly, I worried about him sometimes. Now that I knew he was as good as dead while asleep, I worried about him even more.

‘I’m but a simple farmer, Emilia.’

‘The odds are on our side. It’ll be two against one. No, three: Broomstick likes a fight every now and then.’ I put my hand on his arm, a gesture meant to reassure. ‘Thank you for your concern, Jacob. It means a lot to me. But I can handle myself.’

‘Of course. I didn’t mean you couldn’t. I know you’ve been here longer than I have. I know what you’re capable of. I just — I just worry, maybe a little too much for my own good.’

‘And it’s very sweet of you to.’ I kissed him on the cheek. ‘Now, how much is it for everything?’

‘It’s fine.’

‘What? No —’

‘Actually, I wanted to ask as well if you’d like to join me at the market. I’d like that more than anything. But you’re busy today, so it’s okay. I’ll come by after the market.’

‘I’d love to go with you.’ Broomstick had been saying I needed to get out more often. She’d be happy to see I was making an effort, and with another person, too! ‘I’ll have the rest of the day for brewing. I can multi-task. I’ll just need to put this down’ — I lifted the basket to clarify what ‘this’ was — ‘and get dressed first.’

‘Great.’ No amount of magic could aspire to replicate the warm fuzzies I got from seeing his smile. This was the one enchantment I had no defence against, and that was okay. ‘I’ll wait for you in the lorry.’

‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ Hands materialised out of thin air to help me with the basket while I went to change out of my current outfit and into something that’d complement his light yet dapper look. A sundress! I had the perfect one to match my new hat.

‘Our girl’s going on a date!’ said Broomstick from the living room, loud enough for every living thing within a half-kilometre radius to hear.

✦✧✦✧

‘A visitor! We have a visitor!’

I rubbed enough sleep out of my eyes to be functional at this hour — whatever it was — and to be able to return to sleep easily after, then put on my glasses. I turned my nose up at the information the clock imparted: 1:42 a.m. How odious: I’d only been asleep for an hour. That’d teach me to put off sleeping at a decent hour. I sat up and asked, ‘Who is it?’

No answer. Oh. I see how it is. Yesterday was a fluke. Broomstick was nowhere to be found, too. It dawned on me a split second later that her absence could be chalked down to her curiosity; she was, in a sense, the house’s first line of defence. Sorry, Broomstick. And fine, I got up. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. The sooner I saw to this, the sooner I could go back to sleep.

Alas, sleep might be a distant dream tonight.

At my feet lay a fallen figure — a wounded animal, far larger than the likes of anything I’d ever seen roaming the woods … anywhere. Broomstick curled herself around my legs, cowed into trepidation by this behemoth of a beast. I looked closer. Not the moment for this, but — I knew it! The source of the monthly howling was exactly what I thought it was, and here was bodily proof. It was as if a wolf had been stretched into the frame of an adult human with a little extra bulk and height to fill things out better. Its fur was a dark blonde, almost brown, possibly the only link it had to its human self. Its eyes, contrary to some media’s portrayals of werewolves retaining their human eyes when transformed, were a pale yellow, very likely dulled by its injury.

Each whimper it uttered, loud and laboured, stung my heart. I knelt down and stroked its head. Broomstick stiffened in fear against me: ‘Do you know what that is?’

‘Yes. It’s hurt,’ I said. ‘Look at it. It’s not in any state to do anything. Let’s get it inside.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t very well let it die on my doorstep just because of what it is, Broom.’

‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry.’

I slung one furry, muscular arm over my shoulders — and barely made it one step forward. Yeah, I didn’t know what I was thinking. I was easily half its size. Should I get Jacob to help? No, he’d have me packing in minutes if he knew there was a werewolf in the neighbourhood. I called upon a pair of helping hands, ones with stronger constitutions than usual, to lift its lower half while I took care of its upper half. Having to look over my shoulder to ensure I didn’t end up redecorating my house with broken furniture proved to be a massive boon for my bleeding heart: I couldn’t bear to look into its eyes, so full of pain and misery. Something had to be really wrong.

The hands and I laid it down on the sofa in the living room. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t fit. Just … how tall was it? I had to move some furniture around for its entire body to be laid flat on a surface, and comfortably, too. ‘Let’s see what’s wrong, buddy,’ I said. It could only offer a wail in response.

‘It’s its foot,’ said Broomstick.

I joined Broomstick at the other end of our makeshift stretcher. My face scrunched up in repulsion at what my gaze fell upon. ‘Couldn’t have given me a heads-up, Broom?’ Its foot — paw? — was broken. I was seeing bits of bone where I shouldn’t. The fur on its foot was matted with blood, so much blood. As if that wasn’t horrific enough, the skin and flesh where the bones pierced through were blackened … charred. Against my better judgment, I leaned in for a quick sniff — and promptly regretted every microsecond of that second. The crescent pattern of the burn spelled out what had done this to the werewolf. ‘Fucked’ barely began to skim the surface of it.

‘Poor baby,’ I cooed.

‘Not exactly the words I’d used to describe a werewolf,’ said Broomstick.

‘Don’t you think it’s kind of cute? It’s a big, fluffy wolf.’ Sensing I’d never be able to win her to my point of view, I said, ‘In all seriousness, someone else knows we’ve got a werewolf around. This is awful. It hasn’t done anything. It’s been a good wolf.’

‘Not yet … but I’ve heard some stories about these supernatural hunters. They’re ruthless.’

I summoned my spell book for any nuances involved in treating a werewolf. It continued to keen. I commanded the hands to retrieve what I needed to mend the bones and take care of the burn as well as a calming draught. Thankfully, I didn’t have to make any major adjustments to what I had on hand to accommodate the obvious. It wouldn’t take the draught. It couldn’t, as I soon learned: its palms, like its mangled foot, were burnt. It emitted a low, piteous whine, as if to apologise for its inadequacy.

I poured the draught into the dish I’d asked a hand to bring me. I held the dish up to its snout; a hand propped up its head for me. It sniffed the dish’s contents, then lapped up everything greedily. It lay its head back down on the pillow after it’d drained the dish dry, and almost instantly, it relaxed, vibrancy returning to its eyes. (Fun fact: it was a little more than a calming draught.)

Now that it’d quietened down, I found the resolve to get down to business. Broomstick also looked a little more comfortable around it. Frankly, I was a little scared. The werewolf had to be cooperative only because it’d been incapacitated. Nonetheless, I was bound by a (self-imposed) sense of duty to all that inhabited this wood, including an amalgamation of man and wolf with or without murderous tendencies. As I worked on its foot, my thoughts drifted to the werewolf’s human identity. Broomstick confirmed that it was a male; after all, she didn’t share the same mores on modesty as me. Where did he come from? How did he become a werewolf? Did he have a family? Did they know what he was? Did anyone?

Despite the horrific nature of his injury, it was a relatively simple fix: a spell to doctor the bones, a salve with added wolfsbane for the burns, restorative-laced dressing, and a potion for overall well-being. He sat through everything like a champ, too. How much of its humanity did a werewolf retain in its transformed state, I wondered? He seemed to understand everything I did and said. Would that extend to ‘No, please don’t eat me!’? Was elevated cognisance — or reduced bloodlust, or both — one of the differences between werewolves by birth and werewolves that’d been made? Was there a difference between the two? I still had so much to learn about my world.

When I went to drape a blanket over him, he latched onto my arm, sat up, and licked the entire length of the side of my face — over and over. Heat spread from where he licked me to the rest of my face, engulfing it in a red cast. ‘You’re welcome!’ I said.

‘Congratulations,’ said Broomstick, who, along with the hands, had been my indispensable aide throughout. ‘You can now add “treated a werewolf” and “survived being in close proximity with a werewolf” to your accomplishments. Viv would be so proud.’

‘Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without her.’ I patted my spell book with utmost regard. I turned to the werewolf again. ‘Get some rest. It’ll be about another’ — I looked up at the clock — ‘two hours before sunrise.’ His transformation back into a human should help with the remainder of his recovery, according to Viv’s notes in my book. Had he not made it to my doorstep, and had it not been for the silver, the reversal would’ve also helped restore his foot to some extent. The thought of someone planting something capable of such cruelty in my wood infuriated me. I’d find the rat bastard responsible for this. I’d make them pay. ‘I’ll be here. Bark … if you need anything? And … I understand if you’d like to leave after sunrise … if you don’t want me to know who you are.’

He closed his eyes. Fair enough. I climbed into the armchair beside him, made myself as comfortable as I possibly could in this, and pulled my blanket up to my chest. Broomstick jumped up into my lap. Shortly, slumberous silence swept over the living room.

✦✧✦✧

I scrambled awake, eager to see if the werewolf had stuck around. Mr Werewolf, I thought I’d call him if and until I learnt his name. Did I succeed in making a new friend as well? Would he be a new neighbour? Would he mind if I introduced him to Jacob? Jacob might be happy to know the werewolf in our wood was a friend. He might be just as happy to be friends with a werewolf, too. I know I would be. I was! Oh, what if this developed into a tawdry love triangle like in the movies and books? The witch, the werewolf, and the farmer. I could look past the almost alliteration.

‘Good morning —’

The muscles in my jaw went slack.

The farmer was the werewolf.

‘Please, Emilia. I’m so sorry,’ he said, clutching his blanket tightly. ‘I — I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if I ever would. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it — with what I am.’

I went to sit next to him. He recoiled slightly from me. I held on to his arm, stopping him from going any farther. He had so many scars on his body, a mix of old and new. And was he always this warm? Broomstick was watching us from the top of the bookcase by the wall behind us, the tip of her tail twitching away, her eyes shining keenly. I’d love to know what was going through her mind.

‘Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?’ I said, taking Jacob’s hand. The skin on his palm was without a blemish. I’d never have known the truth about him if he’d left before I woke up. I could continue seeing him without ever knowing how much of a difference this morning would’ve made to the grand scheme of things between us.

‘No one ever has been.’

‘Jacob …’ I put my hand on his face. I couldn’t believe that this face and the wolfish one I’d looked into for so much of this morning were one and the same. ‘I’m probably the last person to give a toss about what anyone is.’ Now was probably not the best time to tell him I was once in a serious relationship with a vampire. Apples and oranges, I know, but that had to count for something, right? Most people wouldn’t want to cross paths with a vampire, too.

‘This is different. I’m dangerous. I could’ve hurt you.’

Hands brought us tea — the aroma was unmistakably chai — and biscuits. I poured him a cup. ‘You weren’t dangerous this morning.’

‘Because I was injured. It would’ve been a very different story if I wasn’t.’

‘But I’m here and I’m fine, Jacob. So are you. I don’t — I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. You could be a demon or a ghoul or a merman, and I’d still want to be your friend. I only wish you’d told me sooner so I could’ve helped.’

‘Help how? I was born like this. I can’t be cured.’

Oh.

‘No, I mean, I could’ve come up with something to help manage your condition better. I still can. I’d be happy to. And I wouldn’t dream of thinking up a cure unless that’s what you want.’

‘I … uh.’ His head tilted downward. ‘That … that would be nice. Something to manage this, I mean. Thank you. Thank you for everything. I really should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry, Emilia.’

‘It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s all in the past.’ I smiled. ‘How’s your foot?’ I saw that the dressing had been removed.

He brought his foot up onto the sofa; I averted my eyes. Regrettably, I had no clothes for him. Should I start keeping some of his clothes around? That blanket had had too much responsibility, and the kind it wasn’t used to, foisted upon it. Anyway. His foot, like his hands, was in immaculate condition. I still couldn’t get over how I might’ve never gotten to know about his other self. In a way, I was touched that he trusted me enough to reveal something of this magnitude about himself.

‘The silver would’ve fucked it up to shit if you hadn’t helped. Not only am I thankful you fixed it, but I’m also glad I don’t have to come up with some bollocks about a wonky foot that would’ve looked like I got in an accident with a blender.’

‘We’re going to find the asshole who did this, Jacob. We’re going to fuck them up.’

‘The trap’s not … new. I’m usually not this careless.’

‘Do you remember what happens when you’re transformed?’

‘Not everything. Sometimes I choose not to.’ He raked his hair with his fingers. I never paid much attention to his hair until now. I think I could’ve made something of the parallelism between the colour of his locks and the werewolf’s fur … and then left it as nothing more than a mere coincidence, because England was in no short supply of brunettes, and because I’d never have pegged him as a supernatural being, much less a werewolf. A woodland spirit would’ve been more likely.

He continued, ‘I should probably go. I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough. But I can’t ever say thank you enough for helping me — and for not … hating me.’

‘I could never hate you, Jacob.’ I stroked his cheek. ‘And thank you for trusting me to share that part of you with me.’

Then my lips were on his, and the rightness, the goodness, of how this felt startled me. His taste was steeped with notes of cinnamon, warm and sweet, and cardamom, zesty, smoky. I drank in his smell — it was of the woods, earthy, musky, and lightly vegetal, which came as no surprise. His skin was so warm, pleasantly so. The world spun beneath me.1 It was as if I were in a trance, or under a new spell of his borne of our new connection. He had my sweet surrender, every last ounce of it. He kissed me back, his mouth insistent, hungry, the animal in him awakened, and in this moment, I felt like one of his crops ripening for the harvest.

‘Would you stay for the day? Please?’ I said. I didn’t know what I’d done, but I wanted more.

He nodded. Without hesitation, I felt the absolute need to discern. ‘I’ll need to go home first to … attend to the obvious. I’ll return this to you after the next laundry day.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I was still a little giddy. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

‘I’ll be back, my favourite witch.’ His lips graced my cheek, setting off a thousand fireworks, the loud, obnoxious kind that continue to reverberate long after in your chest, in my head. He got up, secured the blanket around his lower body, and left.

Broomstick jumped down from her perch and said, with the tricksiest smile a cat could muster, ‘You’d still want to be his friend, huh?’

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: The Graces (Kingdom of Ichor)

from left to right: Euphrosyne (grace of merriment & joy), Thalia (grace of festivities), and Aglaia (grace of beauty & splendor)

Nicknames- Aphrodite's Angels by the people of Olympius

Terror Trio by Artemis

Glamour Banshees by The Muses

Age(s)- 19 (immortal)

Location- Chant du Cygne district, New Olympus

Personalities- The trio have similar qualities that make them very close friends. Aglaia is soft-spoken & a lover of jewelry while Thalia enjoys being the center of attention & is a make-up maestro! Euphrosyne is very confident in her sexuality and is quite flirtatious. They're all currently single- with Euphrosyne being bisexual.

The Graces live in an ultra fashionable penthouse. Their place is painted in colors of silver, gold, pink, purple and red. A glittering pink chandelier dripping with gems and diamonds hangs from the ceiling. They also own summer beach houses in Naxos, Delos, & Shimmering Tail Island.

They all have the standard abilities of a goddess- except shapeshifting. They can also telekinetically control clothes, make-up, accessories, and styling tools.

Aglaia has the ability of kosmimatakinesis (summoning & manipulating jewelry).

Thalia can make a person feel as if they are younger, temporarily.

They can't stand The Muses as well as Peitho (goddess of persuasion & sensuality). They once tried to sabotage The Muses' fashion show during New Olympus Fashion Week. It ended with them on the cover of The Oracle Scoop covered in fake blood, garnering second hand embarrassment from Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty).

Thalia is fond of wearing glitter eyeshadow and jeweled eyelash extensions.

They are close to Aphrodite & they're also cool with Hermes, Pheme (goddess of fame), Ditus (god of bisexuality, effeminacy, & fertility), Hedylogos (god of sweet talk & flattery), Ganymede (god of homosexual love & desire), Aoide (goddess of voice & song), Chrysos, Aerin (goddess of the ethereal), Dionysus (god of wine), Aether (god of the upper atmosphere, celestial bodies, & heavenly light), Adonis (an up-and-coming mortal male model), Zephyrus (god of the west wind), Panacea (goddess of universal remedy), Thetis (a popular nereid model), Philyra (goddess of perfume, paper, & beauty), and Narcissus (a popular mortal male model).

They're also friends with Paregoros (goddess of soothing words), Pannychis (goddess of nightlife festivities), Chloris (goddess of flowers), Phaenna (goddess of jewels), Cleta (goddess of whispers), Antheia (goddess of swamps, vegetation, & floral wreaths), Pothos (god of longing & yearning), Eurydice (a popular dryad singer/rapper), Pandaisia (goddess of banquets), Carpo (goddess of autumn & fruits), Móda (goddess of fashion), The Hesperides, Auxo (goddess of summer, vegetation, & plants), and Thallo (goddess of spring & new growth). They're also friends with Calypso.

They own a nationwide business- beauty salons specializing in hair, nails, & make-up called The Pink Bar. They also have a successful fashion line (No.3 & Co) which was heavily funded by Aphrodite when it was starting up as well as a cosmetics line (Graces' Glam). They're currently thinking about releasing a skincare line. The Graces also do major endorsement deals, particularly with Pheme and her Diamond Ave. fashion brand. They are also models, not only modeling clothes from their own brand, but La Petit Amour, Swimsilk, ViVoTrack, as well as Zeus' lingerie line Heavenly Spark. They’re also frequent writers of Aphrodite's magazine Kythereia and Glamgerous- Móda's fashion magazine.

Each of The Graces have their own glamour doll collectibles!

The Graces also have separate business ventures & interests.

Aglaia's go-to drink is a caramel apple martini. She also likes iced tea, vanilla cola, lychee juice, New Olympus Iced Teas, palomas, fireball sangrias, piña colada martinis, rosé wine, vanilla sky vodka cocktails, and kalimatxos.

Euphrosyne's go-to drink is a french martini. She also likes mimosas, ultra fizzy peach soda, bikini martinis, and cherry bomb cocktails.

Thalia's go-to drink is a tequila sunrise. She also likes champagne, mistletoe martinis, shirley temples, prosecco punch, hot toddys, rum & cokes, hot chocolate martinis, champagne jello shots, and frozen lemonade margaritas.

They all like cosmopolitans & olympian sized caramel lattes from The Roasted Bean!

Aglaia runs a body positive workshop at the community center downtown (She & Thalia are super confident in their plus size figures!). She also enjoys cooking- her favorite meal being honey barbeque wings, kale feta salad, and kotosoupa avgolemono (chicken & soup rice). Her favorite dessert is the s'mores baklava from Hollyhock's Bakery. She's also fond of wearing lots of jewelry accessories whenever she goes out! Aglaia runs several kiosks at local malls & shopping centers, where she sells jeweled cases that she designs for phones, laptops, and tablets. Her favorite flower is an amaryllis. She has a pretty close relationship with her mother Aígli (goddess of glamour). Aglaia has also been getting to know her new stepfather Achelous (god of freshwater). She hasn't spent enough time with her new stepsisters to form an opinion about them.

Euphrosyne loves photography- particularly nude photography. She's photographed some of the gods and has thought of opening her own exhibit at The New Olympus Museum of Modern Art. She also dreams of producing and directing dramatic erotic films. Her favorite meal in the entire universe is the meat lover's pizza loaded with bacon, sausage, and pepperoni. She also likes fried shrimp! Even though Dione warns her against it- she has a great working & personal relationship with Aphrodite's aunt, Philotes (goddess of sex, friendship, & affection). Euphrosyne has photographed her many times for her collection & has even photographed Philotes' husband Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity) on occasion. Her favorite flower is a myrtle. Her mother Kéfi (goddess of mirth) is like her bestest friend! Euphrosyne hasn't gotten the chance to know her mother's fiance Psionikós (god of the mind).

Thalia hosts classes at the community center where she teaches young girls and women on how to apply make-up. She also owns a small party planning company. She's a secret animal lover- and wants to get a pet griffin! Her go-to meal from The Hearthside Diner is a medium order of baked ziti added with sweet sausage. Her favorite flower is a coreopsis. Even though their current relationship is strained, she still loves her mother Panigýri (goddess of festivals). Thalia likes her mom's boyfriend Agathodaemon (Daemon) (god of vineyards, grainfields, & luck).

They're fond of activities that start with the letter S- shopping, swimming, sunbathing, sightseeing, spa, and sex. They also love surfing, tanning, and clubbing!

Thalia has hooked up with both Apollo & Dionysus.

Aglaia had a short relationship with Chrysos (god of gold & riches).

Euphrosyne once drunkenly made out with Himeros (god of impetuous love) during a televised New Year's Eve celebration. She later said it was the "hottest visual media between a guy and bi-girl" to ever be displayed on a jumbotron. Euphrosyne also has a crush on Záchari (god of confectionery). She also had a brief fling with Adranos (god of fire) and has made out with Pothos a few times.

"Beauty goes far beyond skin deep. It starts in your soul."

[eddiesfaerie]

Softer (part 2)

Summary: does Kylo succumb to your softer ways? who knows? oh wait, i do:) (3.9k words)

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, fingering, crying during sex, light name calling, dirty talk, Kylo talks to you through the Force, he’s also a little mean at the beginning oops, f!reader

Part 1

Sweet thing.

Your heart fluttered at the way that word sounded falling off of his tongue and through his lips.

“Cyar’shebi.” You said again, trying to say it the way he did. A language you were unfamiliar with, the words sat foreign on your tongue, sounding wrong no matter how hard you tried to pronounce it properly. You pouted, bottom lip sticking out just slightly, but enough for Kylo to latch onto it with his teeth, earning a whimper from you and a growl from him as he dug his teeth into your plush lip, blood rushing to the affected area.

Effortlessly, Kylo broke from the water, pushing his body up the length of yours with the pure rippling strength of his arms, moving your body to lay down against the rock and settling himself above you, his dick resting against your stomach. You moaned and gasped into his mouth and he swallowed them up with pleasure.

“Tell me you’re mine.” Insecurity ebbed through his very being. He worried that if he couldn’t do this for you, have this one day where he tried to be… different, you would never forgive him for it. This, of course, was nowhere near the truth. But you were slowly beginning to piece together how you could get your Kylo to be softer, to submit to you in the smallest way possible.

“I’m yours, Kylo.” You said without hesitation, your lips not parting from his as you formed the words.

“But are you mine?” You asked and he pulled away to stare at your face. The question confused him. After moments of silence, you pushed further.

“Do you belong to me like I belong to you?” Kylo blinked back at you, as if you were now the one speaking the unknown, forerign language. Perhaps you were.

“I belong to no one.” He stated, completely emotionless. His statement tried to prove to you that there was no room for debate. You frowned, looking away from his intense stare for a moment to try and think of another way you could put this so that he could understand, to think of another way to break him to your mold like he had done to you.  

“Kylo-” He seized your face in between his fingers, smushing your cheeks together, making your lips pout.

“I belong to no one, little girl. Not even you.” He bared his teeth at you again, his eyes flickering ember, quite literally the eye of the storm; engaged and ready to destroy anything in its path. And you just so happened to be the only thing for miles. You choked back a sob, trying to turn your head away from him so he wouldn’t see you cry, but his strength was always overwhelming.

“Look at me when I speak to you, pet.” Unwillingly, you met his gaze again, tears threatening to spill over. His hand moved from your cheeks to your throat, his thumb and index finger threatening to press further into your bloodstream if he found you to be disobedient. You hated the way your body automatically responded to him, a heat rising in your lower belly, no matter how sad or frustrated he made you.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

The title made his lips quiver and eyes go soft. You only called him by his official title when he would return to your shared quarters covered in dirt, mud, sand, or someone’s (sometimes his own) blood. When he needed to regain control, make him feel superior, powerful, and unstoppable. Of all the times you’ve addressed him as such, he was not expecting to hear it today. Especially when it was supposed to be different this time. Because you were different. You.

Fuck.

His exterior was cracking. You didn’t mean to sabotage him like this but you were running out of ideas on how to make him see, how to show him it could be different. And if he hated it, it never had to be this way again.

Kylo was not a cruel lover, nor was he a violent one, but he was demanding, possessive and very, very physical. You had been attracted to him for all of these reasons, seeing past his ‘shortcomings’, if they could even be considered as such. You loved them all, no matter how little you wanted to admit that to yourself or to him.

He was the one who had suggested the need for something different, as much as it surprised the both of you, today was his idea. And now you were beginning to think he wanted you to feel like you were ridiculous for even wanting it, for thinking that he was capable of softness. Words were escaping you, so you just prayed he could hear you in your own head.

Just let me show you… please let me show you, you chanted, searching his eyes for any sort of confirmation that he could, in fact, hear your pleas for him to let you lead him, just this once.

His chest was heavy, breath falling loudly from his nose as his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the answer that you wanted, so he could give it to you, give you what you wanted. That’s all he ever wanted, after all, to give you everything.

“No one… No one else has ever seen me-” He begins to say and you think Kylo Ren might cry. His lip trembles, his chin quivers and eyebrows furrow. You want to kiss them, kiss that familiar line that lives above his eyes but you also want him to feel this, for him to trust you enough to feel this with you. The hand that was wrapped around your throat leaves its place to rest against the rock next to your head. You turn your head over, breathing onto his exposed skin and pressing the smallest kiss on the flesh of his wrist.

I know. He doesn’t need to explain himself to you. You know how he feels about his appearance, and regardless of his scar, he has his reasons for dressing the way he does, walking the way he does. Hiding all types of fears, worries and insecurities from prying eyes, minds who indulge too much, think too much about him before he shows them what he’s really capable of at the other end of a saber. He hides for control, and he lost a bit of that with you when he revealed himself that very first time you visited him in his quarters. You would always hold that supreme power above everyone else, including him.

“You don’t understand.” He argued.

“I do, Kylo. I-”

“No.” He cut you off, voice booming in his chest and his hand next to your head that you had been kissing curls into a fist, tremors beginning to flow through him, the impending earthquake. You could feel the heat within him rising quickly, his urge to lash out just bubbling underneath the cooled surface, threatening to spill. As a last resort, you came back to the only effective way you knew how to calm him when all else failed miserably.  

“Yes.” You insisted again. Your hand reaches for the back of his neck, reaching up with your mouth as you pull him down half way to shut him up with a kiss, shoving your tongue insistently into his mouth to stop his cries. You both moaned into each other’s open mouths, or maybe he growled, a searing kiss, burning the both of you at the edges. His mouth was so soft, his teeth were so hard as they bit into your mouth, into your lip, causing you to whimper and cry into his mouth.

“Let me show you. It’s okay.” You said out loud for the first time today. You hand rested on his cheek, thumb dusting across the bone that protrudes beautifully, like a statue. He pressed exactly seven more kisses to your lips before he pulled away only briefly to catch his breath. Your legs wound themselves on his lower back, pulling his body flush against yours, trying to egg him on further to answer you, to give in.

“I want… I need you to show me how.” His voice, just above a whisper as he finally let go. You tuned yourself into his mind, trying to get him to feel you everywhere. It was overwhelming, how powerful he was through the Force. So powerful that he somehow allowed you to see him through it as well, allowing you to see his life and energy force, and manipulate it too. You didn’t think you were Force sensitive, but he made you feel powerful.

Focus on me, my breathing. See how my chest moves. Reach out to it. Feel my flesh, touch all of it, it’s yours.

Kylo’s eyes closed and his eyebrows drew closer together as they so often do. His hands reached out to you through the Force as well as here on the rock, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin like lightning. His face leaned down further to tuck himself away into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and moving his hands across your breasts, kneading them, tweaking your nipples as well until you cried out.

You swam around in his mind, the water getting thicker and thicker the longer you were there, colours erupting in every corner, your vision was getting foggy and it was harder to pinpoint what you were looking at or swimming towards. You could see yourself from his point of view, laying underneath him, whithering and moaning as he groped you and touched you, running his hands across your body, kissing and sucking on your neck, leaving fresh new bruises on top of old ones. You could feel his restraint at first, holding himself back from tossing you around like a doll, like he was so used to. The restraint eventually began to fade as he lost himself in this indulgence, this treat; your body that he was now realizing he never got to savour properly.

He had never taken his time like this before. He knew your body well, too well, maybe even better than you did at this point but he had never taken his time to touch so much of you all at once. The earth shook beneath you, the Force bond or whatever this magical place was, was becoming indistinguishable from reality and you were getting lost in his head. You could hear him saying your name, moaning, growling against your skin, different languages fluttering in and out, confusing you further. You weren’t sure if they were his thoughts or actually spilling from between his lips.

“You’re - fuck - you’re perfect.” Kylo moaned into your ear and it brought you back from inside his mind, finally grounding you in the present with him. His lips licked the shell of your ear and your back arched up into his chest above you, his hands sliding down past your stomach to rest above your sensitive nub, your legs spreading wider to make more room for both his torso and now his hand to reach down to your furthest point.

“Kylo, please.” You begged, desperately needing his touch on the most sensitive part of you.

“What do you need.” You whined louder at his quesiton, his fingers skating around the edge of your sex and you were finding it harder and harder to form coherent sentences in your mind.

“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you, cyar’ika.” Amidst the sexual fog settling in your mind, you noticed the new name he called you and it made you cry out to him. Why was he so good at teasing you?

“You, Kylo. I just need you, all of you, please.” With his free hand he took hold of your chin and angled your face to look at him. When you didn’t immediately open your eyes he tapped your cheek gently with his fingers and your eyelids slowly lifted to bore into his amber ones, flickering gold, the lava erupting from within and you were dying to throw yourself in.

You own me more than you could ever know.

Perhaps he could never say it out loud but an admission was an admission either way, it was more than you could ask for. Without waiting another moment, Kylo plunged two of his thick fingers inside of you until they were knuckle deep, reaching further than your fingers ever could, stretching you wider than you could imagine. A deep moan released itself from your chest that you couldn’t imagine holding back. As he began pumping and curling his fingers, you lifted one of your arms to shield your face in your own bicep, embarrassed at how hot and desperate he made you so quickly. You bit your soft skin, trying to stifle the wanton moans leaving your body.

The familiar touch of his invisible hands quickly wound itself around both of your wrists, pinning them up above your head, once again revealing your warm face to Kylo. You stared at you like you were the answer to all of his problems, all of his feuds, all of his curiosities, like you held the sun in your hands and you were allowing him to drink from it.

“Beautiful.” He told you, his fingers reaching parts of you that you didn’t know could be reached. You clenched around his fingers as he dragged them incredibly slowly across that spot inside of you that made you see stars. You fought against your invisible restraints, body twisting and convulsing underneath his torso and the powerful hold of the Force. The sounds his fingers were pulling from the depths of you were lewd, the slick wetness dribbling down your thighs was enough to make tears form in your eyes. The quicker his pace got, the closer you got to your release and the louder you became. You were unaware of the words leaving your mouth but you were sure it was just a repeated chant of his name, over and over again into the air around the pond.

“Please, I’m gonna-”

Without a second thought, Kylo pulled his fingers from you and dipped them into his mouth, his tongue curling around his fingers to drink up what you had given him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and you clenched your thighs together at the sight. Fuck you needed this man inside of you.

“Nothing in the entire galaxy could be sweeter than your pussy.” He moaned against your mouth after he leaned down and shoved his tongue into your willing mouth, forcing you to taste the combination of his spit and your cum. You again went to wrap your legs around his waist, this time shifting your hips to try and get him to glide his cock into you. You managed to line yourself up on the very tip of him, the spongy head coming to poke at your opening and you threw your head back when he gave you mini thrusts, teasing you with the beginnings of his cock.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.” Kylo looked down at you squirming underneath him, completely broken and desperate and chuckled, leaning down to press his lips directly under your ear.

“I’ll give you everything.”

With one swift thrust, Kylo sheathed his entire length inside of your warm cunt, splitting you openon his cock. Both of your eyes closing from pure, unadulterated bliss and pleasure. You threw your head back, your body arching into his as his hands came to wrap themselves around your waist, his large hands holding you in place against his body. His head fell to your shoulder as he groaned your name loudly, the invisible restraints against your wrists fizzling out as his mind focused in on the sensation of his cock inside the deepest part of you. You grabbed onto his shoulders, your nails sinking into his supple skin, preparing for the rough thrusts that never came.

Kylo dragged out of you at an agonizingly slow pace before pushing himself back into the hilt at the same speed, forcing you to feel every centimetre, every ridge and every vein of his cock, you could barely stand it.

“Kylo, Kylo please I can’t take it.” You whined, your eyes screwed shut as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, all the while he was groaning into your neck at the feeling of your walls squeezing against him, sucking him in deeper.

“Let me do this I - fuck... I want to feel you, need to feel all of you.”

He lifted his head to look at you as he said those seemingly magic words. You bit your lip and nodded your head, one of his hands coming to hold your face to his, resting underneath your jawand wrapping his fingers at the base of your skull. Kylo pressed his forehead to yours and picked up the pace a noticeable amount, but still slower than either of you were used to.

You both moaned again in unison, your mouths swallowing each other's breaths, moans and pleas for the other to give more, more, more. You looked down between your two bodies, watching as his stomach flexed against your own, his muscles constricting against the skin as he pushed into you, again and again without relent.

Your mind was reeling at the slower pace, you couldn’t help the way your body craved the blunt force of his cock against your cervix that so often made you scream and sob into the bed sheets, wall or empty throne room. You were so used to him being unforgiving and mean, that you couldn’t figure out how to respond to this slower, more… kind side. It was something you could get used to but you didn’t want to allow yourself the luxury of becoming comfortable around him, around Kylo. It would only result in punishment, torment and disappointment.

“You’re so fucking big.” you babbled shamelessly, your words punctuated with moans as your unforgiving nails pierced into the taut skin of his muscular back. Kylo growled and nibbled at your earlobe, making you yelp and clench harder around his dick.

“You take me so well though, look at you… my beautiful girl.”

Such a little slut for me, you heard him say in his mind and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. Even in the throes of pleasure, lost in the depths of your cunt, Kylo was still managing to contain his darker side and be sweeter to you, softening his words as well as his thrusts. Your fingers curled in his hair at the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss you but he held himself back, instead deepening his thrusts, angling himself differently within you and picking up his pace.

“Oh, FUCK!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Kylo dug deeper and deeper into your pussy, finally knocking himself against your cervix with each powerful thrust. Your body went numb with the sharp pleasure and pain that was bursting within your very soul at his thrusts, your back arching, pressing your bouncing tits right up against his firm chest which bloomed red from exertion and pleasure.

“I can’t…. I can’t Kylo I-” The pleasure was blinding, you were losing sensation in your legs and you could feel tears filling your eyes. Your pussy began to flutter around his cock as you neared your orgasm.

“Yes you can.” He grunted, his voice several octaves deeper as it rumbled through his chest, drawing a low whine from you.

“It’s too much…”

“Take my cock like the good girl I know you are.” He moaned your name, maybe he was getting close to. You nodded your head, a silent yes falling from your lips as you let the tears fall, letting yourself go to the complete chaotic bliss of his cock filling you to the absolute brim.

I’m close, you thought, the energy required to actually form the words with your lips and tongue escaping you. You clawed at his back some more with pleasure weak hands, your grip slipping off of him so he grasped your hands, intertwining your fingers and pinning them above your head again, elongating your body to him.

He’s never done that before. Intertwin your fingers. You smile and more tears fall.

Me too, you hear and your thighs clamp tighter around his hips, trying to draw him in deeper. You don’t want this to end, it can’t.

Your glistening bodies move alongside each other as you both near your climax. You finally find it within you to open your eyes and look at the man moving above you and you just cry some more. Behind sparkly tears, he looks magnificent. Cheeks tinted fuschia, lips darker than his cheeks, puffy and parted as moans, growls and your name fall loose from behind them. His eyes open and close lazily, to focus in on the pleasure or look down at you. His brows drawn together in concentration, loose hairs clinging to his face from sweat and the humidity. You do this to him.

Only you do this to me.

You moan loudly, the tears unrelenting as they fall down your cheek. Even though your body is quickly growing numb, you think you can feel him kiss a few tears away.

You can feel that balloon swelling inside of you and you try to chase after it the harder he thrusts, his hips becoming erratic as you both near the end. Neither of you has to say anything more, you both know you’re right there.

After a few particularly hard thrusts, you let out a high pitched moan and finally cum around his cock, Kylo cursing in your ear as he shoots his load inside of you as well, shoving it deeper and deeper.

Mine, mine mine.

You cling to him, trying to draw him deeper even after both of you have come, never wanting to part from him, never wanting him to leave your body. You would gladly keep him seated in your cunt for as long as he wanted if he would allow it. You can feel his cock pulsing inside of you, depositing the last drops of cum right up against your cervix until he starts to soften.

Both still panting, Kylo drops his body onto yours, resting his head on your sternum, listening to your heart beat and wondering if it’ll ever go back to its normal pace. He gently draws circles over your skin, maybe he’s writing his name on you like you had done to him earlier. You laid like that for a small eternity, energy flowing between you two like the pond and waterfall that now seemed so far into the distance.

“You’re the only thing I'm scared of.” Kylo admits, finally breaking the silence. If your heart rate hadn’t returned to normal by now, it surely must have just stopped in your chest.

Utter confusion filled you. Kylo rustled on your chest, still not looking up at you but that was okay, he sensed your confusion. He grasped your breast in his hand and lazily kneaded it, comforting you as well as him, occasionally brushing his thumb across your nipple. Combing your fingers through Kylo’s damp hair, you looked up to the sky to see the Star Destroyer floating in the near atmosphere. Kylo continued,

“You’re the only person who could really hurt me.”

No words came to you in that moment, shock washing over you at his admission that you never thought would come. Never thought would break through him. 

In a moment of perceived weakness, Kylo Ren had finally admitted to you that you hold a supreme power over him. Nothing but you, your lips, your body, your voice, your pussy, your laugh, you, you, you, You. Nothing but you could break him. You were his true reigning emperor and he kneeled only to you.

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 17- Muffin But Books

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Bookshop/bartender/baking AU)

Word Count: 2,050

Summary: You go out to celebrate the reopening of the bookshop and have maybe a bit too much fun...and before you know it’s the day :) 

Author’s Note: So I hope you guys can get the feel of what the bookshop looks like now, I used some pics in the moodboard that give you an idea :) I also could not resist some sexy fun with Bucky because I never can. The bar they are at called The Park (pic is in the center of the moodboard) is unfortunately closed now but here is an article about it so at least you can see the space and know the story. Thank you all for continuing on this journey with me and a day early today! 😁 I love you and I’m sending you all my love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: soft fluff, fun with friends, smut, teasing, flirting, all the emotions (the good ones :) 18 + only please ;)

Top Shelf Masterlist 

You and Bucky are tucked into a booth at The Park, waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. It’s the Saturday night before the reopening of the bookshop and Sam suggested everyone take the night off to celebrate. The two of you arrived early on purpose, enjoying some alone time while sipping your drinks and talking quietly together in the corner booth.

“Do you wanna sleep over at the bookshop tomorrow night? Or will it be too much to get up, go home and shower and then come back?” Bucky takes a sip of his drink while he watches you consider his question. “Let’s stay over. It will be our last night before it officially becomes “The Bookshop Bakery!” He agrees with a smile, leaning in for a kiss that he quickly deepens when your hand runs up his thigh under the table.

“Starting the party without us I see.” Sam’s loud voice breaks the two of you apart. “You have the worst timing Wilson,” Bucky groans before standing and pulling him in for a hug. Everyone finds a seat and orders some food and drinks. The next few hours are light and worry free. You talk about the excitement over the reopening, Peggy and Steve’s upcoming wedding and everything in between.

You’re halfway through your third drink when you hand starts inching up Bucky’s thigh again. He grabs your wrist, stilling your movements and whispering in your ear, “what are you up to, baby?” Striking up a conversation with Nat you ignore his question and wiggle from his grasp. He let’s your hand continue its path until it’s hovering over the growing bulge in his jeans.

He nearly spits out his drink when you start to gently rub him through the thick fabric. It’s hard to stop when you can feel him throb beneath your fingers, but you can tell it’s really getting to him. “Hey Buck, you ok. You look like a deer in headlights.” Steve’s question makes you bite your lip to stop from giggling. “I’m good. Yea, fine, thanks.” Steve raises a brow but doesn’t push it, turning his attention to Peggy.

“Doll face. What. Do. You. Think. You’re. Doing?” This time it’s more of a growl than a whisper and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Just having a little fun is all.” With one more firm squeeze you remove your hand and slip into the conversation between Sam and Nat. Before you know it Bucky’s hand lands on your bare thigh and his fingers dance along your soft skin.

“Hey Nat, Peg, bathroom break?” You eye the two girls and they both nod, squeezing around the guys to get out. You give Bucky a wink and saunter off toward the back. “Fucking hell.” Sam smirks. “What was that Barnes.” Sliding out his middle finger, Bucky doesn’t answer, just takes another sip of his drink. Sam tries Steve. “So, how’s the beard working out for you?” Bucky can’t hold back his snickers and he dips his head, “we are never gonna let you live it down.”

When the three of you return the boys are still smiling and Steve’s face is red. “Oh god,” Peggy complains, throwing her hands up. You all laugh and slip back into your seats. This time you decide that Bucky’s lap is better than the booth. He definitely doesn’t mind and now you can continue your little game. Shifting back and forth you do your best to push your ass back and grind over him. His hands are digging into your hips and his breath is hot in your ear.

“What time is it?” he grits out. “Almost 1 am,” is your sultry answer. He reaches back to grab his wallet. “Ok gang, we’re out. We have some stuff to finish at the shop tomorrow and dinner with Grandma.” The boys boo but Nat and Peggy give you a sly smile. “See you all at the opening!” With that Bucky slides out from under you and grabs your hand.

The bar is only a few short blocks from your apartment and you both keep your cool until you’re in the elevator. The second the doors shut Bucky has you pressed against the wall, his hands slipping under your dress. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that.” Your sassy response dies on your lips the moment his fingers ghost over the wet patch on your underwear. He hums into your mouth, pushing the satin aside and gliding his fingers through your folds.

The elevator dings and he pulls away, letting your dress fall down and pulling you out and down the hall. You try to find your keys but it’s taking too long. Bucky turns you around and kisses you against the door. Breaking away he takes his fingers and traces them over your lips before pushing them past. You both moan as you suck them clean, tasting yourself.

“Fucking keys,” you breathe out, finally finding them at the bottom of your bag. The door flies open with your combined body weight and Bucky quickly slams it shut. You’ve barely dropped your bag to the floor, and he’s got your dress up above your hips. Trailing soft kisses along your neck his fingers hook into your underwear and pull them down your legs.

Your hands fumble with the button of his jeans, eventually working them down his thick thighs. His boxers are next, and you wrap your hand around his hard cock, slowly pumping the length of him. He parts your legs with his knee, removing your hand and running his cock through your arousal. “Is this what you want?”

He pushes into you every so slightly before pulling back out, loving the whine that leaves your parted lips. “Yes. I want you to fuck me.” He teases you one more time before slowly filling you up. He lifts one of your legs and goes deeper, causing your head to roll back against the door. His lips are on your neck as he thrusts into you hard enough to shake the door on its frame. His hand reaches between your bodies and it isn’t long before you’re clenching around him, chanting his name with your release.

Once you both catch your breath, he carries you to bed, covering you before he gets in and holds you to his chest. You can feel your eyelids grow heavy with sleep, the steady beat of his heart matching your own. Kissing his chest and snuggling closer you whisper, “I love you,” barely hearing his same words as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Sunday is a flurry of last-minute preparations and dinner at Grandmas. She’s practically humming with excitement and makes you promise not to give too much away about tomorrow. “I want to be surprised and I have full faith in you all.” You help her clean up and sit and talk for a little longer before heading back to the bookshop.

You and Bucky stand by the door and look out and the new space. “Wow. I can’t believe we did it.” Bucky hums his agreement, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his head atop yours. “We did it.” You take a deep breath, loving how it smells like pumpkin and spice and coffee beans with the light scent of old books somehow weaving its way through in a perfect balance.

The books have been neatly shelved on the beautiful new dark wood bookcases, all the mismatched piles gone and free of dust. You wrote all the aisle and shelf labels by hand and encased them in brass adornments that match the new lighting fixtures. The front of the store was cleared out and now houses a completely new display case for the baked goods as well as some tables, chairs and a couch with soft cushions.

Behind the counter there are shelves for coffee mugs, teacups and plates, all of which you and Bucky picked out at antique stores, estate sales and consignment shops. The labels for the desserts are hand-printed on antique looking paper, framed by more brass and the new countertop is a dark oak wood with lighter grains running through it.

The lighting is soft with hanging lamps and candle holders that line the walls while the accents are bright and colorful without being overpowering. You got rid of the old blinds that covered the windows and went with light and flowing curtains that are pulled back with antique hooks. It has a charming and soft look that’s both comforting and classic.

You and Bucky head toward the back staircase, which is now closed off with an iron gate to prevent people from going up to the attic library. Once you’re upstairs you plop yourself down on the fluffy blankets, watching Bucky as he scans the bookshelves. “What are you looking for handsome?” He smiles but doesn’t answer as he stops in front of one and grabs a book. “Remember this?” He turns it around to reveal the cover. Your eyes land on the Auryn garnishing the cover. “Of course, I do. You read some to me the first day we met.”

He props up some pillows and leans back, opening his legs so you can sit between them. You lean your back against him and he cuddles you close, placing the book in your lap. “Ok, I still have the bookmark from that day.” He starts to read, and you feel yourself relaxing, his soft voice lulling you to sleep. When he realizes you’re out he sets the book down and shifts so you’re both laying down, kissing your shoulder before resting his head on the pillow.

Bucky wakes before the alarm, moving carefully and sitting up. “Hey baby, pssst.” Gently running his hands over your hair, he tucks it away from your face. “Sleepy head, hey, come on, time to get up.” You mumble something incoherent and roll over, smacking at the air. You took the week off from work using your vacation days so you could help Bucky with the launch as much as possible and getting up early just doesn’t sound appealing right now.

“Today’s the day!” he chuckles, “gotta get up.” His hands reach down and squeeze your butt and he watches a smile creep over your face. “I know you’re awake now. I’ll resort to tickles if you don’t start moving.” Trying to smack his hands away you curl into a ball, hiding in the pillows. “Ok, I’m up! I’m up!”

The two of you change and head back to his apartment to shower and get ready. You only have to grab a few things before heading back to the store and checking it all over for the last time. You have a couple of hours before the doors open, so you head to the back to throw some things in the oven, hoping to have them as fresh as possible.

“Hey, baby?” You hear Bucky’s voice from outside the door and immediately panic at his tone. “Bucky.” You quickly head out and around the counter staring at him first before following his line of sight. The line of people outside has you muttering, “holy shit,” under your breath, grasping for Bucky’s hand before you turn to him.

His smile hits you like a ray of sunshine and before you know it, you’re kissing and hugging him and jumping up and down in his arms. “There must be 25 people out there already Buck!” He keeps smoothing his hands down your hair and rests his forehead to yours, “thank you. Thank you for everything.” Tracing his lips with your finger you kiss them softly, “Bucky, I love you. Now hurry, we gotta get the muffins and cookies out of the oven!”

Once everything is out and properly displayed you straighten a few cups hanging along the wall and attempt to check your hair in your phone. “Are we ready?” Bucky gives your hand one last squeeze before you make your way to the door. You can already see Steve, Peggy, Nat and Sam and right beside them is Grandma Betty. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears and when they land on you and Bucky you know you won’t be able to hold back your own.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-henley @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @breezy1415 @buckyandbowties @buckosawrus @chuuulip @eurynome827 @emilylyoness @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lorilane33 @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @scarletsoldierrr @tuiccim @this-kitten-is-smitten @the-wayward-robot @yansi1923​ @flyawaybay​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @inflxmes @curlyred2020 @lauratang​ @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @buchanansebba​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lady-pswrld​ @lookiamtrying​ @tales-of-spring​ @lokilvrr​ @mishaandthebrits​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @rebekahdawkins​

[bilgisticallykosher]

Ice Nine Kills concert! Tumblr isn't picture/video friendly, so I posted it on imgur. Content warning for band-typical blood, violence, etc.

Here's the set list, with me kvelling about the whole experience, because it was my first ever concert. First up were Fame on Fire, Currents, then Bad Omens. Bad Omens' frontman said "Welcome to the cult" and I was just sitting there thinking, "been there, done that, memento mori." I wrote down the songs, so if anyone's curious, I have what they played.

Okay, so as other bands were setting up, they played like Linkin Park, System of a Down, Evanescence, stuff like that. As INK was setting up, they played horror movie themes like Halloween (that's the only one I recognized. It was really funny because they put like three songs on a loop, and like people thought they were finally ready, but then after a pause it looped around again and the audience groaned.

Opening night, people were screaming.

Welcome to Horrorwood, the graphics were so cool on this one, it was practically all the lyrics. Definitely has to be, like, a permanent opener for them, it hypes up the crowd so much.

Savages. Savages was Savages, better live for sure. Spencer was waving around a chainsaw.

A Rash Decision, love this song, was great.

Stabbing in the Dark, crowd chanted Michael during the intro, they had a clock ticking during the graphics. The acting when Spencer killed Nadia as Michael was really fun.

Hip to be Scared, the monologue bit was so good live. The feeling of a theater filled with INK fans screaming "Not really!" Was incredible. And the Hey, Paul was incredible.

Funeral Derangements, SO GOOD LIVE, it probably helped that, of all the neck merch that I saw people wearing, FD was the most common. The screaming was hype.

Communion of the Cursed, great effects, great acting, great hearing Spencer do the voices instead of the creepy kids. Wild difference.

Ex-Mørtis, UNREAL, someone in the INK server said it'd have a longer intro, so like the first note I whipped my phone out to record. The sound live, I couldn't capture it, but it was so much better than the recorded song. Something about it live.

Assault and Batteries, so much screaming. Spencer prompted people for that last line, which was really funny. Also of note; there was at least one guy there with a Chuckie doll, and one guy had his kid dressed up like him, makeup and everything, it was really funny.

Farewell II Flesh, he was wearing a coat and had a hook hand and it was so good, he sounded so melodic during the "You're sweet on me honey, forever" part.

The Shower Scene, Spencer let the audience sing "we all go a little mad sometimes" and "listen to mother!"

Rainy Day, Nadia was running around a lot this song. Spencer did not lick the knife, F.

A Grave Mistake, according to someone else that was there, the mosh pit stopped during this one. Very cool graphics.

Thank god it's Friday, the part where they died omfg. Also the ki-ki-ki-ma-ma-ma part was fantastic.

American Nightmare, also another incredible one, there's just something different about it live. He was running around the whole time with the glove just slashing at the air, so much fun.

IT is the End, everyone was changing Georgie, he was completely clowned up, did like a weird dance during the chorus. And the honk honk. By the ending people were swaying.

Totally incredible experience live. If you like Ice Nine Kills (do you like Ice Nine Kills?) then I highly recommend seeing them if you get the chance. They're amazing.

[jumukus]

A3! Translation: Itaru Chigasaki’s SR [Marionette’s Destination] - Trying to Be a Dollmaker Part 2

Listening to the dollmaker’s advice, Itaru tries to make his own doll. However...

Itaru: Hmm… Why did it turn out like this?

Itaru: Me? Making a doll?

Homare: That's a great idea! Why don't you try it?

Itaru: But I've never made a doll before, and I don't know how to make it…

Dollmaker: Bisque and Rinse Dolls are costly, but wooden and vinyl ones are cheap and easy to find.

Besides, there are a lot of ready-made products like clothes and accessories being sold these days.

You don't have to make a good one. Just make what you like.

Homare: That's right. Blow your emotion and preference up!

Izumi: I think that's the best reference you can get for your role-building.

Itaru: I see…

Itaru: While I do admit this is a great way for my role-building, I can't think of anything I should make.

*door knocks*

Itaru: Come in.

Izumi: I'm coming in, Itaru-san.

The design for the body doll we received the other day has already finished, so I'd like to show it to you.

Itaru: Is it done already? I expected no less from Yuki. He works fast.

Flowers and laces, huh… This is certainly giving off the vibes that Yuki likes. I get why the design is finished at a lightning speed.

Izumi: It's really cute, isn't it?

How about your doll, Itaru-san?

Itaru: I'm drawing the design right now, but… nothing comes to mind.

I don't have the slightest idea about what kind of vibes I wanna go for.

Izumi: Since this will be your doll, why don't you put your preference and ideal into it?

Itaru: Huh?

Izumi: The dollmaker also said the same thing, right?

Even Yuki-kun puts what he likes into the design alongside the image Tsuzuru-kun has in mind.

Itaru: Put my preference and ideal into it, huh…

I see. Okay, I think I know what to make now.

Izumi: Great to hear that. I can't wait to see the finished product.

Itaru: --And so I'd like to unveil the doll that I made.

Tsuzuru: You made a doll?

Sakuya: Wow, that's awesome!

Itaru: Now look at this. My doll… "Rohm Raven"!

Chikage: This is…

Citron: Oh! This is a full chuunibyou doll!

Itaru: Rohm Raven has the horns of a dragon, the wings of Lucifer and the brain of Thoth. The flame of darkness dwells in his eyes.

If you chant the Lunatic Logos, the forbidden magic square that is sealed in the back of that hand will emerge and destroy everything.

Sakuya: You even come up with a lot of traits! That's so cool!

Itaru: Right, by the way, he'll be voiced by--.

Masumi: ...He just won't stop.

Chikage: God…

Izumi: (Itaru-san looks like he's having so much fun, but I've never thought he'd go into that direction…)

Uhhh, have you come to understand the feelings of a dollmaker, then?

Itaru: Of course. Some parts may be wonky, but I've totally grown attached to this doll.

It's also because of you that I can completed this doll. Thanks.

Chikage: ...What did you tell him?

Izumi: I merely told him to put his preference and ideal into the doll…

Citron: I see, this doll is truly packed with Itaru's fantasy!

Tsuzuru: Too much fantasy, I'd say...

Itaru: Say, for this play, should I make my entrance while manipulating this doll? How's that?

Masumi: Out of the question.

Tsuzuru: No.

Chikage: That'll be OOC.

< Part 1

[notapaladin]

oh you take all of the pain away

Acatl has nightmares. Teomitl helps. That’s it.

Also on AO3

-

The shadows on the wall were taunting him. Acatl closed his eyes again, but it didn’t help.

This is ridiculous.

“Mmm,” Teomitl murmured into his ear. “I can hear you thinking.”

That was also ridiculous, but oddly endearing. He huffed out a breath and shifted back to curl more fully against Teomitl’s lean, well-muscled chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin for a moment before it occurred to him that if he could still feel said warmth, something was definitely wrong. Namely, that he was still awake, and it was far past sundown. “Mrrrgghhh...”

Teomitl’s arms tightened around him, and a soft nose pressed into the curve of his shoulder. He was being cuddled like a child’s favorite toy, and if he hadn’t been so irked by his continued state of wakefulness he would have smiled. His lover could really be terribly sweet sometimes, even when his speaking breath tickled. “Go t’ sleep.”

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth to grumble, “I am trying.” There wasn’t any heat in it. He was far, far too tired for that. After the night they’d had, where Teomitl had slipped into his courtyard at sunset and proceeded to very thoroughly make up for the time they’d spent apart in pursuit of the loose threads to a particularly nasty haunting case, every muscle in his body felt like half-melted rubber. He ought to be sleeping like a corpse. He was almost too tired to think.

And his body refused to quiet down. He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his arms with a grunt; it was an action that took him out of Teomitl’s arms, generally something he regretted, but cutting out distractions—and Teomitl was certainly a distraction, half-asleep and so wonderfully warm—sometimes helped him sleep. Not always, but sometimes.

Besides, it wasn’t like his lover was going anywhere. A hand smoothed down his spine, gently shifting his hair off his back, and he let out a long sigh. Maybe if he just lay here, he could become one with the mat.

There was another soft mumble behind him. “Night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. Good night, love.

In the cool, still darkness, Teomitl’s presence a bulwark at his back, with no sound save for their steady breathing, he slowly felt himself fall.

And fall.

And fall.

Down and down and down...

Only to land on his knees with a shock like a distant blow. The ground was cold and hard under him, and strangely lumpy; as he got to his feet, he saw why.

It was not dirt, nor carved tiles, but hard-packed bones made of gold and jade. He touched a fallen clavicle. It was slippery. Feeling disconnected from his own skin, he picked it up and turned it over in his fingers as he walked. Teomitl fidgeted with things like that, too—not bones, but rocks and sticks and whatever he happened to be holding. He said it helped him focus.

It didn’t help Acatl focus. He walked through the Sacred Precinct, but it was a Sacred Precinct unlike any he had ever seen before. Beautiful, shining, with gold plating every temple wall and turquoise set into the very steps of the pyramids—but empty. There was no sound, not even his own footsteps. A river of blood flowed down the steps of the Great Temple to collect in a pool at its base, but even that made no sound. There were no priests chanting hymns, no commoners offering penance. He was alone.

Alone...

No. Not alone. Teomitl was here somewhere, he knew it. He couldn’t hear that familiar, impatient tread, but he knew it was just ahead of him, that if he ran faster or called out his lover’s name he would be there and—

And—

He opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. What good would calling out do?

He turned the corner and entered the palace gates, and the first sounds he heard fell like hammers on his ears, for all that they were the thin, chattering-infant voices of ahuitzotls.

“All hail...”

“...our great Revered Speaker...”

“Drowning, drowned, all are drowned...”

The courtyards were not empty. He thought he would have preferred it if they were. No, they were filled with ahuitzotls on their hind legs, dressed in the feathers and gems of nobility, and all chattering amongst themselves. As he walked past them, they stopped to watch him go. His skin crawled. He knew better than to run.

“...They cast the reeds...”

He kept walking, and the palace changed around him. Now the frescoes were set with gems, now hammered gold had been set into them to accentuate the eyes of the gods that were, he felt, definitely not watching. Under his bare feet—when had he removed his sandals?—the floor grew warm and slick in a way he recognized far too well. Fresh blood. Another river. No. Another lake, mirroring the one on which Tenochtitlan lay.

The doorway in front of him stood wide, and he knew what he would see when he walked in. He didn’t want to. Duality preserve him, the last thing he wanted was to walk through that door.

His legs carried him forward anyway, and when his gaze adjusted to the brightness he choked back a noise that wanted to be a sob.

Teomitl had gotten there ahead of him, and was sprawled negligently on the throne with a bloody macuahuitl in his hand. The blood was deeper here, lapping at his calves and Teomitl’s sandaled feet, and his lover looked...bored. No, not bored. Vacant. There was gold on his arms and fingers, turquoise at his lip and ankles, and his face was as expressionless as a doll’s. Fear stopped Acatl’s throat.

Before he knew it, he was wading towards him. The blood parted like humid air. “Teomitl!”

Teomitl lifted his eyes. There was no hint of recognition in them. “We do not give you leave to call Us by that name, priest.”

“Teomitl—it’s me—”

His next step went through nothing at all, and the world was filled with blood-tinged saltwater. Teomitl’s throne cracked and broke apart as he watched, sending him tumbling through the depths an arms’ length away. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move.

Terrified, he opened his mouth to call Teomitl’s name again, but water rushed in to fill his lungs instead of air, and he thrashed desperately.

Now, for the first time, Teomitl was looking at him as though he knew him, and his eyes were wide with panic. A flailing hand reached for him—their fingers were close enough to touch—but when it encountered his skin, it slipped through as though he was already a ghost. “Acatl!”

He couldn’t respond. Blood and water filled his mouth. I’m sorry. I love you.

Eyes wide open, he watched Teomitl sink into the darkness.

“Acatl-tzin!?”

Everything was dark. His limbs refused to obey him.

Something shook him, hard. A voice he knew as well as his own snapped in a note of panic, “Wake up!”

All at once, it was like a spell had been broken. His eyes shot open, and the tension coiling through his paralyzed limbs finally resolved itself in a jolt that had him sitting up and staring into space. His heart was hammering fit to escape his ribcage, and each breath burned. When he felt wetness on his face, he realized he’d been crying. “Hah,” he managed, aware now that Teomitl was staring at him. He couldn’t turn to face him. He couldn’t bear to.

Teomitl’s hand hovered in midair, as though he was afraid to touch him. “...Love...”

“Just a dream.” He sucked in a breath. His chest still hurt, and it was hard to breathe through the horrible congested feeling of too many tears. That’s right. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. Wherever my soul wandered in my sleep, I’m here now. This...this mat under me, these four walls around me, this is real. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I was awake. Ish.” Teomitl made a quiet grumbling noise, and Acatl immediately felt much worse. Of course Teomitl had been easy to rouse; as swiftly as he dropped off to sleep, he’d always struggled to stay that way, and what sleep he did get was all too frequently disturbed by nightmares. He’d sworn that Acatl’s presence helped, but...well. It clearly hadn’t tonight. “How do you feel?”

Acatl grimaced, staring down at his hands. If he balled them into fists, they didn’t tremble so badly. “I’m fine,” he lied. It would be true eventually.

Teomitl saw through him in an instant, as always. And, as always, he had no patience for it. Gaze focusing into a sharp glare, he snapped, “You are not, you’re shaking. I’ve never seen you have a nightmare like that before.”

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In again. Slowly, his heart started to calm, and the residue of that sick terror started to drain out. “...I’m...” But he couldn’t finish the lie.

Seeming to come to a decision, Teomitl moved to cover Acatl’s hand with his own. The touch was a shock for a moment—that was right, he had a body other people could interact with—but then it sank in. The warmth of his lover’s skin, the smooth callouses from his swordwork, the faint raised scar across his palm. “No. I heard you weeping for me.”

He closed his eyes briefly. No, that wasn’t a good idea. He could still see the ahuitzotls when he blinked. He opened his eyes again, and this time he looked at Teomitl. His beloved looked drowsy, moonlight shrouding his features, but he could make out a hard, stubborn set to his mouth that he knew very well; it said that Teomitl knew what Acatl was doing, and he didn’t appreciate it. And Acatl had promised him honesty. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Mm.”

Teomitl gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “...Want to talk about it?”

Despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips. As carefully as the question was phrased, it was obvious what Teomitl wanted to hear, and he wouldn’t stop until he heard it. No matter how much he’d grown, he’d always be the man that had upended Acatl’s lonely life and built a space for himself in it with nothing but dogged persistence and a radiant smile. “...You won’t take no for an answer, will you?”

Ah. Perhaps he’d been a bit curt, because Teomitl looked stung. “I would. You know that. But if it disturbs your sleep—if wherever your soul has wandered has hurt you—then I want to know about it.”

“So you can kill it?” Acatl quipped, half-serious. Granted, he wouldn’t put it past him...but still.

“Hrmph,” Teomitl muttered. “If I can, yes.”

Oh, my love. He exhaled. “...Alright, then.”

But saying he’d tell his lover about it and actually making his mouth form the words were two different things, and for a long moment he couldn’t figure out where to begin. Finally, with Teomitl’s thumb making little circles over his knuckles, he started to speak. “I was in the Sacred Precinct, and everything was made of gold, but I was alone. I knew you were there somewhere, just ahead of me, but I couldn’t see you. So I went into the palace...and it was full of ahuitzotls dressed as noblemen and warriors, all praising you. All calling you their savior.” Teomitl’s muttered, “ew” bolstered him somewhat, giving him the strength to continue. “Then I found you, and...”

He trailed off. He couldn’t continue. Teomitl’s fingers tightened on his. “And?”

“You didn’t know me.” His voice shook. “You were on the throne, dressed as an emperor, with blood up to your ankles, and you looked at me like a stranger.”

Teomitl sucked in a breath. “I could never.”

“I know. But you know how things are in dreams.” He was starting to suspect what had brought it on, too; the army was preparing to put down another rebellion, one that would take his lover away from him for weeks, and there was always the effects of Tizoc’s presence to worry about. He’d thought he’d gotten over his concerns. I trust him. We trust each other. But...I suppose my sleeping mind doesn’t agree.

“...I do.” Teomitl grimaced. “But that doesn’t sound like the worst of it.”

Acatl shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, you were right. Talking...it does help.” It reminds me that it wasn’t real. It hasn’t happened, and Duality willing it will not.

Teomitl laced their fingers together, biting his lip. “Alright.”

He’d lost his momentum, and it took a while for him to regain it. “Anyway. Then...then...” He took a breath. “We were drowning in blood, and I saw recognition in your eyes again as you died in front of me. You—and I was right there!” He shuddered at the memory, feeling cold despair grip his innards again. I was right there. I watched you die. I watched you drown, still trying to call my name—calling for me to save you, and I couldn’t. “I couldn’t touch you—it was like you were already a ghost...”

“Acatl,” Teomitl breathed.

He swallowed, shaking his head. Enough of that. Teomitl’s right here, holding my hand. I shouldn’t be this affected. “I’m sorry, I’m overwrought—”

Teomitl kissed him. It was quick and sudden and hard, licking into his half-open mouth and leaving him reeling from the sensation of a hot mouth and a clever tongue and the faint sting of teeth. He was kissing back before he knew it, grabbing for his lover’s shoulder just to keep himself upright; when a hand found his waist and gripped hard in response, fingers digging in to the meat of his side, he let out a breathy whine that wasn’t even remotely one of pain.

Then Teomitl broke the kiss, gazing steadily into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “You’re mine, aren’t you? I won’t leave you behind.”

“You can’t—” Promise that, he was going to say, but then Teomitl’s mouth was on his again, stealing the words. This kiss was slower, more tender, but no less devastating for that. When that tongue slid into his mouth again and the hand at his waist slid up his ribs, he arched his back with a moan. He might still leave me, came the treacherous thought. He is a warrior, and once he is crowned he’ll have no shortage of enemies. But that’s not tonight, is it?

Teomitl shifted attention to his throat, lips moving against the sensitive skin. “I can, and I will. Let me prove it to you.”

Then he was uncurling himself, sliding a thigh between Acatl’s legs as he pressed him down to the mat, and Acatl let himself be molded. Yes, this was what he wanted—Teomitl on top of him, all solid muscle and strong, gentle hands, a mouth pressing kisses to his collarbone and a hand lightly tugging at his hair to keep him in place. His hands just seemed to fit at Teomitl’s back, mapping out muscles with his palms and making his lover shiver appreciatively; he had a moment to feel smug, but then teeth nibbled at his throat and he shuddered all over, feeling the tension in his own spine drain away. “Mmm...”

“That’s good,” Teomitl breathed. “Lay back, love. Let me take care of you.”

A hand skimmed down his stomach; as tired as he still was, his body twitched to life. Falling in love with Teomitl had done wonders for his stamina. The thigh between his legs rubbed against his rapidly stiffening cock, and he exhaled sharply. “Oh.”

“See?” Teomitl’s voice was soft. “We’re both here and alive. Together.” He wrapped a hand around Acatl’s cock, thumbing the sensitive spot below the head as he started to work him to full hardness. It didn’t take long, not with the friction of that perfectly placed thigh, and when he squeezed a little harder Acatl gasped.

“Ah...!” It trailed off into a sharp cry, because Teomitl knew just how to touch him. The twist of a wrist at just the right angle made him shudder anew, rolling his hips into that wonderful hand. He was full of sensation, had to do something with it; needing more, he slid a hand up into Teomitl’s hair and drew him up to for another long, hungry kiss. Yes. Yes. Every beat of his heart said it—that they were here, that they were alive, that nothing would part them if Teomitl could stop it.

Teomitl returned the kiss eagerly before drawing away with a wicked smile. “Oh, I wish I could see you now.” He punctuated his words with a slow upwards stroke, and when Acatl sighed in pleasure he chuckled quietly. “You sound as good as you feel.”

That was accompanied by another rippling squeeze, and for a moment Acatl couldn’t even think. Heat rose slowly through his veins, coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he rocked steadily into it. There was Teomitl’s sure, strong hand and the steady pressure of his thigh rubbing against his balls; he ground against it breathlessly before finding words again. He knew he was blushing. “Nnh...voyeur...”

Teomitl smirked, unrepentant, and pressed up with his thigh, pulling a ragged groan out of him. “You deserve to be looked at.”

He huffed out a breath, turning his face away. You always say that. That I’m beautiful, that I’m desirable—I don’t know where you get that from. You’re the beautiful one. And the one that deserved attention too; when he shifted, grinding against him, he could feel Teomitl’s hard cock grazing his own. Loose-limbed with his own desire, he managed somehow to get a hand between them and reach for it; it all but twitched against his fingers, and he gasped a little at how eager his lover was. “Nnh...wait, wait, let me...”

But Teomitl was shaking his head and drawing back, robbing him of his prize. “No.” His grin flashed white teeth in the darkness. “This is for you. You can make it up to me in the morning.”

And there would be quite a lot to make up; Teomitl was still keeping that slow, steady pace, but it was relentless. The building pressure at the base of his spine was enough to make Acatl groan and arch, letting his head fall back. That exposed his throat, and when Teomitl’s mouth found it again he let out a ragged moan at the faint scrape of teeth at his pulse. The way he was going, there would certainly be makes the next morning. He thought he should probably care about that, but at the moment it didn’t seem to matter. No, this slick rolling pleasure was far more important.

“Mmm...” More, he wanted to say. More of this. He couldn’t find the words, but that didn’t matter either; Teomitl knew what he wanted. He only had to let him give it to him. So he bucked into that clever hand, grinding against on his thigh on the way down, and let the sparks coalesce into a blaze.

“That’s it, c’mon...nnnh...” Acatl had slid against Teomitl’s cock again, and this time his lover wasn’t able to ignore it; he gave a rough, wonderful little growl and wriggled against it, seeking more stimulation. When Acatl reached for him again, he didn’t pull away.

Oh, and Teomitl was so responsive. He had to have been hard since nearly the moment they’d started touching; when Acatl squeezed, circling the head of his cock, his groan was loud and sweet to Acatl’s ears. Emboldened, he did it again, establishing a steady rhythm. “What was that,” he breathed with a hot grin, “about me making it up to you in the morning?”

“Acatl-tzin.” It came out in a near-whine, one that went straight to his cock; he shuddered, fucking into Teomitl’s grip, and redoubled his efforts. Teomitl kissed him roughly, all teeth and tongue and a deliciously reverberating moan, and as the hand on his cock sped up he knew he was close. It would be easy to lay back and enjoy it, but he wanted to please his lover as well.

I love you, he thought, and when he got his mouth back—Teomitl had moved to his throat, muffled gasps and soft cries setting his blood to simmering with desire—he gasped out, “Need to touch you—oh.” He hadn’t thought Teomitl was holding back on him, but evidently he had been; he shifted to press their cocks together, grinding hard against him, and it turned the world behind Acatl’s eyes to white sparks. Words failed him. He was so close—gods, so close—

His orgasm rolled through him like the tide, and all he could do was groan as the inexorable tremors rippled through him. Teomitl’s followed a moment after, hitched breaths ending in almost a sob as he spilled himself over Acatl’s skin.

Even when they both came down from that high, they didn’t move. He knew he should clean up, but he was utterly content to lay on his back like a lizard and bask in pleasantly languorous postcoital bliss. His nightmares had never felt further away, nor had he ever been so wonderfully aware of the body he inhabited. Teomitl was the one to wipe their combined spend off their stomachs with the nearest piece of fabric and immediately flop onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing at Acatl so tenderly that it made his heart melt. Acatl had to touch him again, settling a hand on the curve of his waist and letting his lips curve in a soft smile. My beloved. You’ll always keep me safe, won’t you?

Even in the darkness, Teomitl’s smile was like a sun rising. “...Think you’ll sleep better now?”

“Mm...” He considered it. He was tired, both in body and mind, and his release had certainly relaxed him. But there was sweat drying on his skin, and the temperature had dropped quite a bit. “It’s a little cold.”

Then he squeaked, because Teomitl was scooping up one of their discarded cloaks and wrapping it and his arms around him like a giant tamale. He found himself with his face buried in Teomitl’s chest, soft cotton cocooning him gently, and he drew in a long breath that was full of the scent of his lover’s skin. He was safe. Teomitl would protect him. “Mmm...”It was a little difficult for him to get his arms free of the fabric, but he persevered until he could slide them around Teomitl’s waist, holding him close. There, that was better.

“Warmer now?” Teomitl nuzzled into his hair, sounding gently amused.

He yawned, working his jaw in an approximation of a word. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Teomitl stroked his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut on a long exhale. His lover’s voice lowered. “Let’s go back to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning, Acatl.”

He smiled. “I know you will.”

[weebtarurights]

Itaru Chigasaki SR ( Marionette's Destination) - Part 2

Part 1 || Part 2 || 

Story Title: “ I Tried to Become a Dollmaker ”

Itaru:... Hmm.. Why did this happen..

Itaru: You mean, I have to make dolls myself? Homare: That's good! Why don't you give it a try? Itaru: But I've never made a doll before and I have zero idea how to make it. Dollmaker: Bisque and resin dolls are expensive but you can get wooden and vinyl ones for a cheap price. Dollmaker: In addition, there's a lot of ready-made clothes and accessories being sold recently. Dollmaker: You can make it however you like. Homare: That's true. All you have to do is explode your sensibility and taste. Itaru: It seems like it's going to be best thing to do for  role making. Itaru: Got it. 

Itaru: So I agreed to make it for the sake of role making but I can't think of anything..   ---*door knock* Itaru: Yes? Izumi: They finished the illustration for the body immediately, so I came to show it. Itaru: It's done already? As expected of Yuki, he really works fast. Itaru: Heh, this flower lace... is screaming Yuki's taste too. Guess why he finished the design illustration at the speed of explosion. Izumi: It's really cute, right? Izumi: How's your progress, Itaru-san? Itaru: I'm also trying to do the illustration for design but I can't think of anything. Itaru: I don't know how I wanted it to look like after all. Itaru: It's your doll right? Wouldn't it be good if you pack your likes and ideals into it? Itaru: Eh? Izumi: That's what the dollmaker said, didn't he? Izumi: Same with Yuki-kun. He's cramming his love into this while listening to Tsuzuru-kun's image. Itaru: Pack it with my own likes and ideals.. huh. Itaru: I see.. Yep. I've thought of something. Izumi: Thank goodness. I'm looking forward to its completion.

Itaru: -- So, I'd like to show off my very own doll. Tsuzuru: So you really made a doll. Sakuya: Wow, that's amazing ! Itaru: Please take a look at my very own doll. His name is Rome Raven. 

Chikage: That's.. Citron: Wow! It's a full-throttle chūnibyō doll! Itaru: Rome Raven has the horn of a dragon and wings of Lucifer. He has Thot's brain and his eyes are of flames of darkness. Itaru: When he chants Lunatic Logos, a forbidden magic circle appears on the back of his hand, leading everything into destruction. Sakuya: You made various scenarios too. It's super cool! Itaru: Ah, also, his voice actor is--- Masumi: He's not stopping. Chikage: What a pain. Izumi: ( Itaru-san, seems like you really had fun but are we missing our main purpose here? ) Izumi: Umm... Do you understand the feelings of a dollmaker now? Itaru: Of course, there's a bit of distortion but I've grown attached to it. Itaru: I finished it with director-san's help. Thank you very much. Chikage: ... What did you tell him? Izumi: I just told him to pack his like and ideals into it.. Citron: It's certainly packed with Itaru's delusions ! Tsuzuru: No, it's too crammed. Itaru: Hey, what if I show up in the stage while manipulating this doll in the upcoming performance? Masumi: Out of question. Tsuzuru: You can't. Chikage: Talking about character collapse.

<END> 

NOTE: 1) 中二病 (chūnibyō) or middle-school second-year syndrome is a term to describe delusional teenagers who believes that they have secret powers.

2) キャラ崩壊 (kyara hokai) is when a character becomes shaky and starts behaving in a way that doesn't match their personality or their character image.  

[a-pretty-nerd]

Bet (Patrick Hockstter x Reader Smut)

Request: "could you write a fiction where the reader has a love-hate relationship with patrick and ends up relating to him for a halloween bet? i love your writing!" ~ anon

A/N: If this fic seems rushed or anything thats because it is. I'm moving Friday and preparing for it on halloween and its a halloween request so AGH! But I love this idea, I've gotten at least one Patrick fic request on halloween every year for the past 2yrs, I love it! Also, it was never specified whether or not you wanted smut so I figured it was Patrick aaaand so smut??? Sorry.

Warnings: SEX....specifically sex with Patrick sooo...its gonna get heavy...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Halloween was always a fun holiday. Getting dressed up and going out with friends was something you looked forward to every year. This year, there was a big house party everyone was going to. Well, all the cool kids anyway. So you and your friends got all dolled up with your hair and makeup and the skimpy costumes. You walked in and were greeted by a sea of your peers all going about their own business.

The three of you made your way to the kitchen where you started the night off with a shot and some flirting. Casual, yknow, nothing serious. You were enjoying yourself, chatting and snacking and drinking as you pleased. But then they arrived.

The four came in, pushing people aside as they stomped into the kitchen where you and your girlfriends were residing. Nervmind, make that a girlfriend, Suzie had wondered off. So you and Sherry watched in disgust as the infamous bowers gang sniffed and riffled through the kitchen like a pack of wild dogs.

"Ugh, who invited them?" Sherry muttered to you inbetween sips of her beer.

"I don't think they were invited." You told her with a mean smirk.

"Weren't you and Patrick like...a thing or something?" She leaned in closer.

"What!? No! We kissed like once and I was super drunk anyways, it didnt even count." Damn Patrick Hockstetter, that tease made you wanna punch him. He loved to toy with people, loved to toy with you, but you cut him off long ago. There was no way that trainwreck was ever going to win over you attention ever again. So you ignored him, until he noticed you.

"Well I'll be damned! It's lil ol' Y/N L/N, didn't know you'd be hear!" The nasally voice cooed.

"Oh fuck off, Hockstetter." You barked.

"C'mon don't be like that, baby."

"Ew dont call me that!" It went back and forth like that for the majority of the night. And yet, you seemed to stay by his side. You drank with him, you danced with him, and you played beer pong with him. It go down to the wire, and you booed at him as you giggled. Surrounded by party goers as they watched the intense match. One lonley cup sat on the opposing team. "You're not gonna make it, youre not gonna fucking make it!" You laughed at him.

"Oh yeah? You wanna bet?"

"Yeah I bet you cant fuckin' make it!" You jeered. Patrick chuckled and took aim.

"If I make this, you owe me."

"As if! You couldnt make that shot sobber!" The audience began to chant.

"If I make this...you owe me." He repeated, starring at you intensely.

"Whatever! I bet youre not gonna make that!" He aimed, he took the shot, and your jaw dropped as it flew straight into the cup. The small crowd erupted with a loud cheer. Patrick raised his arms and yelled triumphantly. He grabbed ahold of you out of nowhere and before you could do anything, he planted one on you. His lips pressing against your before he let ago and yelled triumphantly again. You paused and watched as the crowd began to disperse.

"Now about that bet." He cooed down to you.

"What bet? I didnt make a bet." You denied.

"Oh yes you did, you owe me." His eyes sparkled.

"Well I dont even know what that means so techniqually-"

"Oh I think you know, you know a little too well." Patrick purred as he shuffled towards you, his hands reached for your hips and sliding along them.

"Patrick, shut up." You hushed him, afraid of being noticed.

"Whaaat? You dont remember?"

"People are watching."

"Then lets go."

"No, I'm not doing that again."

"But you lost the bet, you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything." You growled. Patrick reached around and grabbed your ass, making you jump into him. Your cheeks went red and you let out a telling yelp. You remember that night with Patrick, the biggest mistake of your life. The biggest mistake that you thought about everyday since then, and you pleasured yourself to. His touch was so cold and rough and knarly. He was an animalistic and passionate lover. It made your skin crawl when you thought about it, so why did you like it?

"Cmon, lets get out of here." He smirked as he lead you out of the house and into the backyard which led into the woods. You walked hand in hand as he got you alone, in the woods, truly a bad idea. You stopped before you thought you were too far. You could still see the light and hear the party.

"I dont owe you, anything." You repeated.

"You lost the bet." He reiterated. He got close, small rays of moonlight came down through the trees to illuminate his pale face. His eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"I dont owe you, anything." You said it again as he crept closer and closer until you were backed up against a tree. He leaned into you, hands around your hips, he kissed you. A sloppy and passionate kiss. It made you weak.

Up against the tree, as he kissed you, he began to grope you, to stroke your soft, cold flesh, to kiss and bite at your neck. It made you moan as you balled his shirt up in your fists. He began to undress you, to kiss down your body, to play with you as he wanted. He gropped your breasts and ass as he bucked his hips into yours. He made soft moans as you felt his erection grow.

When he got you completely naked, he played with you, he made you wet as his fingers toyed with your slit. When he felt you were just right, he turned you around and pressed you up against the tree one more time. You felt his cock smack against your ass before you felt it at your entrance and then he pressed in. You gasped loudly as he quickly started to fuck you.

He smacked his hips against your ass, you felt him deep inside of you, making your toes curl. You let out soft moans that drove him wild. He started to pick up and pace as he got more and more eager. The feeling made your eyes roll in the back of your head. His hands gripped at your hips as he fucked you harder and faster. Fuck, so close.

You moaned loudly as you felt your orgasm approaching, his grasp tightened and his nails dug into your skin. The sounds of his soft grunts and moans as he slapped into you was all you could hear. Your orgasm washed over you and soon after, so dif Patrick's. His jaw dropped as he came.

"Ohh fuck." You moaned.

"Damn baby, you're the best fuck around." Patrick growled as he fixed himself.

[thisstableground]

Okay, a bird gets in through the window of their apartment and can't get out (because it's panicked), and now it's flying everywhere *except* back through the open window. How do they deal with it?

(this is an early relationship fic bc i’m in that kinda mood right now)

edit: also on AO3! please leave a comment if you liked it!

*

“Looked like Vanessa was dolling herself up real cute for your lunch date when I went up on break,” Usnavi says. “And me stuck here at the store while you guys have all the fun without me.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Ruben asks, concerned. “I don’t wanna, y’know, get in the way of things.”

“She’s your girlfriend too,” Usnavi says, charitably ignoring the panicked balloon-deflating noise Ruben makes: the g-word is still a very new development. “I just miss you both when I can’t come with you.”

“We’ll be done in a couple hours.”

“I know, it’s so long.” Usnavi says, tragically. He picks up his cell from where it’s vibrating insistently on the counter. “Oh! She misses us too! Hey, Vanessa!” 

His smile disappears as she responds: from where he’s standing, all Ruben can hear is a bunch of incoherent yelling and shrieking from the other end. His heartrate instantly triples. It might have shattered a rib or two.

Usnavi grabs the creased piece of laminated paper under the counter that reads “back in five minutes/vuelta en cinco minutos!!” and is saying “ ¿qué pa—Vanessa, cálmate, I don’t – what’s happening?” as he runs to stick it to the door and click the locks closed. Even from several feet away, Ruben hears Vanessa’s voice yell “JUST GET YOUR SKINNY ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!”

He hightails it after Usnavi up the back stairs to the apartment. “What was that?!”

“No sé, I couldn’t tell, it sounded like she said someone came into the apartment-”

“What?!” He doesn’t even have time to panic about it: they crest the top of the stairs and almost crash directly into Vanessa standing outside Usnavi’s front door. She’s dripping wet and wearing only a towel, trying to look in through the peephole despite that decidedly not being how peepholes work.

“Vanessa!” Ruben goes instinctively to check on her then hastily averts his eyes to the ceiling when he registers what she’s wearing, because yes, he saw her naked last night but he’s still polite.  “Oh, uh—“

Usnavi shrugs out of his shirt to drape around Vanessa’s shoulders and hugs her close. “Amorcita, what happened, are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay!” she says furiously. “I was in the shower and a fucking bird came in and chased me out here!”

“Wait, a bird? You were just screaming because of a bird?” Ruben catches Usnavi’s eye and both of them instantly burst into laughter, which is mostly from relief and is also exactly the wrong thing to do.

“Oh, so it’s funny is it?” Vanessa says, looking about as murderous as anyone with shampoo bubbles in their hair has ever looked.

“We’re not laughing at you, I promise!” Ruben says, undercut significantly by the fact that to be fair, he is still laughing. “We’re just relieved it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Not dangerous?!” Vanessa hollers. “It could have beaked me!”

“Heyheyhey, we’re cool, we’re cool,” Usnavi says soothingly, making cut it out eyes at Ruben. “Ain’t gonna let nothing run my girl out of my apartment like that. I’ll get the bird, you just wait here with Ruben. Who will not laugh any more,” he adds, severely.

“Laughing? Never even heard of it,” Ruben says.

“....You’ll be careful?” Vanessa says to Usnavi.

Usnavi stands just a little taller at her concern, glowing with chivalrous intent, and says, “no te preocupes, querida, I ain’t afraid of no bird.”

He opens the front door and pauses on the threshold. Ruben can tell there’s triumphant battle music playing in his mind right now, mostly because he’s humming it very quietly to himself while he adjusts his hat before he heads inside.

Three and a bit seconds later, there’s a brief crash and some hollered cursing from the apartment. Usnavi bursts back out into the corridor and scuttles over to the opposite wall, flattening against it like a shadow.

“Guys, I am so afraid of this bird,” he tells them.

“Did it beak you,” Ruben says dryly.

“It nearly did! I tried to ask it to leave and then it–“ Usnavi does a wild flapping motion with his arms and goes skraaaaaa!, his eyes all big in a way that implies see? Do you see how terrifying this is? Ruben tactfully does not inform him that it makes him look like he should be standing outside a car dealership in a heavy wind.

“It was never gonna work, babe, I already tried everything,” Vanessa says. “I tried yelling at it.”

They wait for the rest of it. There is no rest of it. Vanessa shrugs like I mean, what else is there?

“Well, I hope you’re not too attached to this apartment, Usnavi,” Ruben says, and both turn in unison to look at him imploringly. They’re wearing hopeful, expectant Ruben Can Solve Anything expressions, the ones they make before they ask him things about sports or Europe or other arcane and unknowable topics. It makes him want to shout hold on, I’m just a chemist, the only thing I can do to a pigeon is poison it or teach it how to run assays but it also makes him want to go and get a PhD in Please Get Bird Out Of Bathroom so that he can resolve the situation as comprehensively as possible. 

He is, he reflects a little sadly, a sucker for providing solutions.

“Alright,” he says, in a firm voice, because it’s either that or let them down. “Usnavi, I need you to go get me a box from the bodega to trap it in.”

Usnavi nods once, solemn-faced like a soldier being given orders, and hurries downstairs. He’s back in short order with an empty Doritos box that he hands over. Ruben makes it all of two cautiously tiptoeing steps into the apartment before Vanessa grabs his arm and pulls him back for a kiss on the cheek that has the resigned air of impending doom to it: we only had the Ruben for two weeks before he was taken by the birds, he imagines her telling people after the fact. I knew we should have had him insured.

Inside the bathroom is much less carnage than he’d expected based on the other two’s reactions. There’s water all over the floor, probably from Vanessa’s hasty exit, and Usnavi’s toothbrush cup has been knocked down into the basin, where it’s clattering around under the feet of a pigeon that Ruben would, scientifically, describe as Oh Boy, That’s Pretty Big Actually. In itself it isn’t all that scary, but in the context of being a pigeon in a places that pigeons usually aren’t it really is quite unsettling. Like how he isn’t in the slightest scared of rats, but still jumps out of his skin and tries to keep a wide berth whenever he sees one in the stairwell of his apartment building. At least it isn’t actively flapping around at the moment.

Ruben casts his eye around but there isn’t a towel in the usual place on the radiator – of course not, Vanessa must have grabbed it on her way out. He sets down the box as he takes his sweater off instead, thanks it silently for its dedication to the cause, and then holds it up in the air, inching closer to the pigeon.

“You could just leave now,” he tries, just in case. “It’ll be easier for both of us.”

The pigeon shuffles around, its talons making scritchy noises against the ceramic of the basin. “Trrr,�� it says.

“The window’s right there.” He takes another step closer. “Fine, I guess not. Sorry about this,” and in a quick movement he throws his sweater over it and, using the second of struggling confusion while it tries to get free, scoops the sweater-wrapped pigeon into the box in a move that is significantly more blind luck than animal handling skills.

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry!” he chants, shoving half his body and the box out the window and inelegantly shaking a very confused and unhappy pigeon out into the sky, where it luckily flaps off in distress rather than going right for his eyes so he can bring the box back in and close the window blessedly un-mauled. His sweater is mostly unharmed too, albeit in need of a wash, because pigeons have pretty much one reaction to stress, as evidenced by the rest of the bathroom. He tosses the knocked-over toothbrush straight in the trash because he knows Usnavi won’t even think about putting it in his mouth all covered in bird-germs later, and is bleaching down the basin when he hears a tentative “Ruben are you dead?”

“Somehow I pulled through,” he says.

Usnavi opens the door the tiniest fraction. “Is it still in there?”

“No, I caught it and let it out. No casualties, except your toothbrush.”

Usnavi opens the door properly, with Vanessa peeking over his shoulder, not even pretending she isn’t hiding behind him. When they confirm that the bathroom is safe she stands up straight and both of them beam at Ruben.

“You really did it,” Vanessa says, in a tone of absolute awe while Usnavi kisses him enthusiastically and Ruben, a man who has faced down pain, torture and death, has literally never felt braver or more heroic than he does right now.

[mightyfineblog]

‘Stand By Me’  -2-

Ben Hardy x Reader

Ch. 2

Series Summary: You are moving in your boyfriend’s flat. As you unpack, you remember the long road you two have walked down from when you met to where you are now.

Chapter Summary: Ben remembers your first date.

Warnings: none; fluff and kisses;

Words:1.8k

Song: Elton John – The Way You Look Tonight

So, here is it. Enjoy:

You pull Ben for another kiss, savouring his salty lips. He sweetly places small and soft pecks all over your mouth. From the cupid’s bow, to the edge of your lips, you hum and smile. Pulling away, his mouth follows yours.

“Babe” your hand stokes his cheek.

He flutters his eyes open and you meet him.

“What is it, baby doll?” he cocks his head to side, examining your state.

“I can’t wait for us to start our life together after everything we’ve been through.” your other hand holds his in your fist.

He smiles and pulls you by your wrist over him.

“Me too. We’ll be so good, as long as you’re standing by my side. Here.” he takes both of your hands and brings them up to his lips. While he places a kiss on each knuckle, you gasp

“I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” he murmurs between each kiss.

Untangling your fingers, he brings your palms to each side of his face. You smile at the view.

“What a sight! The man I love, right here in my hands.” you lean, not breaking contact to place a kiss on his lips. “Are we still going to dinner? As a living together couple?” you pull away, repositioning from his lap.

“If you want baby.” he bites his lip, spreading his body to the sides of the sofa.

“You know I do. I love getting all dolled up for you Ben.” you wink at him, sitting up from his lap.

“Hey.” his hand grabs a hold of your thigh, giving you a smirk “I love it you when you are all dirty.” he squeezes, making you jump a little.

“Me too Benny Boy, but not when its actual dirt from carrying boxes around all day.” you chuckle, spreading his legs apart. Situating between them you lean forward, arms supporting your weight on his knees, you give him another kiss on the lips.

“On a second thought…” he gives you bedroom eyes, as his hands wander up your bum.

“Oh, we’re not skipping dinner tonight Hardy! Call your mates, We’re celebrating. Since the place isn’t in shape for guests, it’ll be a nice restaurant.”

“You wish is my command princess.” He sweetly charms you up.

You press your lips together, letting him know you got his incline “What about the shower we talked about earlier?”

“We can take it together.” He lifts a suggestive brow.

“You know” you step back “I’d love run me a hot bath, with you in it” your hands glide over his chest, feeling his toned abs through the fabric.

“Exactly what I needed to hear.” He stands up.

Lifting your chin up, his thumb brushes over your lips, separating them a little “My pretty.”

“I’ll prep the bath. Make the phone call.” You kiss him tenderly.

After a few minutes you are dipped in the hot tub, leaning against your boyfriend’s chest. He brushes your hair to the side, revealing your back. Ben’s lips placing lingering kisses over your shoulder. He hums at your soft skin. Taking some foam, he gently spreads it over your back and shoulders, while rubbing them. You don’t hold back your moans, as his thumbs ease the soreness. He smiles letting out a small chuckle.

“Whaat? I’m sore as hell.”

“Nothing babe. Your moans are so cute.” He places a kiss on your cheek.

He adjusts himself and lays back with you on his chest wrapped in a cuddle. The foam tickling your bodies, it feels peaceful. It feels at home. It feels so good, so right.

“Hmm. Home.” Ben lets you rest in his arms.

“I didn’t quite know what home felt like until your arms were around me.” You confessed.

“Anywhere with you is home.” he nuzzled on your neck, leaving small kisses.

A smirk appears on the corner or Ben’s lips, a sweet memory surfacing up on his mind. One particular moment, at the beginning of your relationship.

…

November 2015,

Hammersmith, London, UK.

I can’t believe she lives in such shithole. The place is awfully disgusting. At least I’m taking her out tonight. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. The pure fact she agreed to this is a miracle of it’s own. It totally was worth ruining the burberry. Okay, serious now.

Suit? Dapper.

Time? Like a swiss train conductor.

Hair? Sleek.

Teeth? Clean and shiny.

There she comes. Scratch that. I’d let her ruin me in pieces. Damn those legs, so fine in that tight number she’s wearing.

Fuck, I’m staring, I’m staring. Not good Ben. Not good. I quickly divert my graze.

“It, it’s a wonderful night.” I quickly look up to the sky. She chuckles in response.

Phew. That was close.

“Are we going to the restaurant or are we staying here?” she observed.

“Of course not. It’s just, you look lovely.” I take her hand and place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Her skin is so soft against my lips, so delicate I might break her. She smiles warmly at me.

I open the door for her and can’t help but fall in thought at the sight. Her grace. Quickly running to the driver’s seat, I pop on and start the engine. It roars super manly, I bet girls dig that.

“Whoah!” she snickers.

“I thought I was a Mercedes guy, until I tried this baby.” I proudly pat the steering wheel.

After a while, i am sure she is convinced i’m a cool guy, my driving is good and I’m looking good tonight. Fingers crossed the night will go smooth and according to my plan.

I park outside the restaurant. Hopping off my seat, I hand the keys to the valet and rush to open the door for my lady.

I extend my arm for her and watch her as she steps out, lights revealing her beauty. The way she shines is more than enough to make a mall fall in love with her. I smile.

“Um, Ben.” she shrugs, “Why is everybody staring at me?” she shyly brings her head to my shoulder, while still holding my hand.

I hum and my smile turns into a smirk “Because they’re all jealous.” I lift my chin down to her ear.

“It’s alright. Let’s go inside.” I squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Wait!” she pulls me a step back. “I forgot my purse in the seat.” she nervously chuckles.

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll have the valet to bring it, yeah?”

She nods and turns around. I place my hand on the small of her back to prompt her forward.

As we make a few steps she seems to loose her confidence. That’s where I entwine my fingers with hers.

Once inside, away from the flashing cameras and people’s stares, we are seated by the panoramic window. It certainly is the best place in London to take a date. The food is amazing, the wine is heavenly and view is breathtaking. Well, not as much as she is. I just gotta keep it together and don’t mess this up. Everything else will be alright.

“When I agreed on a date with you, I definitely didn’t expect the whole package.” she ponders.

“I, I don’t know where to start my apologies. I like you and I’d hate myself if I ruin it for us.”

“Well, seems like we’re on the same page here” she winks at me.

“Sorry, what?” I don’t quite follow.

“I like you too.” her voice is soft and girly, like a sweet melody.

I exhale, eyes locked on the ground. I feel so embarrassed.

“Shall we order some food? I’m starving.” she brightens up.

“Oh and as for what comes with in the package, i think i can handle a few snaps.” she perks up “Just gotta make sure i show my nicer profile” she casually pages though the menu.

“And you’re not gonna run away?”

“For a few photos? Nope.” she concludes.

“You’re so adorable” i can’t help myself.

The rest of the dinner was very nice. She seems so intelligent and cute and funny and witty. But it’s time for my special plan to put in action.

“Dear, I’ve got another plan for tonight.” I stand up from the table.

“What? I haven’t even finished my glass of prosecco.” she chants.

“We’ll have plenty. Come with me, or we’ll be late.” i extend my arm to her “Trust me”

“Okay” she warningly replies.

On the elevator to the exit I decide to reveal my plan. “I’m taking you to theatre.”

“You are?” she gasps.

“Mhm.” I straighten up, feeling accomplished.

“Means you remembered. That I’ve never been.” she is wide eyes beside me.

“You gonna love it.” i squeeze her hand.

Once at the theatre we move around the grand lavish auditorium to find our seats. Thank god I have my connections with the theatre to be able to get us the best balcony seats.

“I’m so excited!” she claps her hands quietly, squirming on her seat.

“I’m glad.” i take her wrist and bring the back of her hand up to my lips. “There’s something about the way you look tonight. I can’t quite explain but, it takes my breath away. You, take my breath away.”

“Oh Ben.” she panted.

Before I knew it, her lips were on mine. Good lord, have mercy on me. She has the sweetest, cutest kissable little lips in the world. I can’t help but run the tip of my tongue along her bottom lip. She parts her lips and out tongues meet. I could die a happy man right here, right now.

But i also got to remember we’re in public, so I pull away slightly, but she follows. She probably is as eager as me at this moment.

“Hey” I cup her cheek. “I can kiss you all night long, but there’s older people around.”

“Of course” she nervously chuckles, returning her fixed posture on her seat.

Soon after the start, I couldn’t pay any more attention to the stage. My eyes are glued on her. Watching her watch is all the joy I can feel. I study every little expression of her face, every little squirm she does. The way she’s holding my hand in her lap for reassurance suddenly feels like home.

…

“Babe” you brush your fingers along Ben’s cheek. “You must be so tired Benny.”

“Huh?. What? No I’m awake” he shakes his head.

“I love you” you lean in to place a kiss on his nose.

“Let’s go to dinner, shall we?” you mess with his damp hair.

“Mhm” he nods at you.

Exiting the bath you both roll into fluffy robes to get ready for your first dinner as living together couple.

____