#different from each other than they think

[hellenhighwater]

How did you get pet doves? And are they easy to take care of / what do you need to keep them happy and well?

They are, IMO, the easiest birds to care for. I got them as rescues--I used to regularly volunteer at an avian wildlife rehab that would sometimes wind up with pet birds that needed rescuing. (Arson's originally from an animal hoarding situation, so I have no idea how old she is.) They are, specifically, ringneck (also called barbary) doves, which are a domesticated species. They do look a lot like their wild counterparts, but they've been living alongside humans for thousands of years, which makes them far happier in captivity than most 'pet' birds, like parrots. If you're really looking for some, they often wind up needing adoption because a single mated pair produces offspring very, very quickly without human intervention.

Ringnecks are granivores, so their diet is just pigeon-mix birdseed, a bit of oyster shell grit (mine have been going through the same 15 lb bag of grit from the feed store for five years now) and water. Sometimes they'll take a bit of fresh greens or bugs when they come across them, but it's not a necessary part of their diet. Like pigeons, they have weak beaks and feet, so they're not destructive to furniture and supplies. Unlike pigeons, ringnecks are not super social--they mate monogamously and for life, and will get territorial with other ringnecks. As a consequence, Arson and Larceny, as a mated pair, are very happy with little effort on my part. They need enough room to fly and nest and they're quite content to keep each other occupied. A single ringneck may bond with their human caretaker as their human 'mate' and will be a lot more social as a result. I chose to have a mated pair because I'm super busy, and I like knowing that their social needs are fulfilled even when I'm short on free time. Like the cats, I can set them up with a deep bowl of food and a big container of fresh water and safely leave them alone for a weekend.

In terms of space, they need a relatively large cage--three feet in each direction is the minimum, and they enjoy more room when possible. They're very docile--I can just grab em off the branch like ripe pears--and their vocalizations are generally pleasant, in the same vocal range as a mourning dove, though their songs are different. They can be trained to do simple tricks and generally are enjoyable to be around.

Their lifespans range quite a bit! The oldest one I've ever met was 32. Arson and Larceny hold title as the oldest pets I have (they're eight, at least) and still going strong. Twelve years is pretty average for them.

I do think they're great pets, and if you want a bird, they're a fantastic choice.

[headspace-hotel]

After retting the kudzu fibers, it is difficult to get the peeled sections to separate into the fine fibers one needs for spinning, but I think I figured out the secret today, by putting the pile of fibers underneath a forceful torrent of water pouring off the roof of a building in the rain. The pounding of the water seemed to make the fibers separate without breaking them and produce thin threads that could be spun.

So now the process is: Gather green kudzu vines less than one year old (with spongy pith in the middle, not woody tissue). Remove leaves and boil the vines in a pot. Enclose the boiled vines in a bag and cover them in plant material such as leaves, grass, seed pods etc. that is starting to decompose. Get the contents of the bag wet, close it tightly and leave it in a warm place for five days exactly. Remove after five days when the vines are moldy and slimy. Go someplace with running water and run each vine between your fingers, squishing out the rotten pith and rubbing off the slimy outer bark, so the thin membrane-like layer containing the fibers peels away from the semi-woody, straw-like layer surrounding the pith. Separate the thin, translucent silky strips from the woody straw-like strips. Wash and rinse the silky strips some more. Let them dry, rinse them again. Lay them out underneath forceful falling water or other high pressure jet of water, turning and rotating them in different directions every few minutes. Peel apart the fibers by sliding your fingers along the strips while they're wet.

This video shows a very similar process that I have been following to create this process

Haven't started spinning yet but I suspect the fibers will need to be spun wet.

If heavy rain and an ill-conceived drain spout isn't available, I wonder if a dishwasher would do the trick.

[gojosprettyprincess]

CRY, BABY!!

Dacrycilia, creampie, he's a lil tease, praise n degradation, Not proofread. This was supposed to be for kinktoberr!

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

You and Satoru are an experimental couple when it comes to intervening and accommodating each other's sexual desires. So needlessly to say, the two of you have fucked and tried out a lot of different kinks/fetishes especially when it comes to exploring sex positions.

One night he'd be standing on the floor, the warmth of his strong hands kneading into the soft curves of your ass—his big muscular arms supporting your weight and holding you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs securely around his waist, your soft breast comfortably pressed against his broad chest as your arms entwined around his neck, hanging on for dear life as he slams you down on his lengthy cock, stuffing your hole to the brim of him until you could feel every inch of his length stretching your pussy open, just for him to lift you back up like lightweight—repeating the cycle till your cum is dripping down his balls and pooling onto the floor.

You’d get cross-eyed and make a disgusting dripping mess all over him. just the thought of him being so strong to support your weight for so long and effortlessly treating your body as if you were a little sexdoll—his little doll and fucked you absolutely stupid made your mind hazy. His biceps and back muscles flexing against your palms, motivating you even more to mark up the strongest—to make all the dumb little bitches that think they have a chance with him know who he already belongs to you.

Another night he'd have you face down, ass up in a disorderly arch he manhandled you in, your soaked panties lazily pulled to the side of your cheek, using it as cleavage to pull you back onto his cock—accommodating his pace and adjusting to his rhythm as he delved deeper into your tight warm pussy. The air filled with desire and lust as he continuously pounds it into you in a brutal manner, your ass rippled against his pelvis as they met together—making his cock penetrate deeper into your velvet walls. He mutters a low “fuck” under his breath, as his eyes locked onto the movement of your back dimples flexing because of the brutal arch as both of your moans fill the air.

But Satoru’s all-time favorite position to ruin you in, will always be missionary just for the sole purpose of mocking and making fun of you—verbally bullying his adorable little girlfriend for crying and leaking tears on his fat cock while he’s purposely abusing your hole, stretching your tight entrance open to snug his cock into you. Your pathetic tears and vulnerability just fuels him to keep going and fuck even more tears out of you.

“Fuckkk—you like this thick cock splitting this tight little pussy open? Hmm? ” He questioned with hints of mischievous teasing laced in his tone. An amused look plastered on his handsome face as he smirks smugly. Blue eyes pierced, filled with a mixture of amusement and superiority, gazing down at your messed-up ruined face. Streams of what looks like black tears? Cascaded down your face, resulting from the ruined remnants of your expensive mascara running down the side of your softened cheeks as your features distorts in pure pleasure from his treatment.

“Mmm! Oh—fuck ahh” you bit your lips and close your eyes shut as your pussy opened up for him.

The thought of him being the reason for your vulnerability—seeing his little girlfriend leaking droplets of tears from his cock alone, drove him so fucking crazy. It makes him proud. It's Gojo fucking Satoru, it boosts his ego.

“Awww are you crying, sweetheart?” He mocks, in a particular way that makes him seem like he was trying to sound sympathetic but also obvious that he was making fun of you. He fucking loves belittling you like this so fucking much. He knows you’re way too far gone and fucked out stupid by his bullying and rough treatment to give him a proper response other than your uncontrollable moaning. Your pathetic crying and loud whimpers that he fucks out of you says a lot already, so he doesn’t expect one anyways.

The poor bed creaks and shudders loudly against the wall as he passionately fucks himself into your aching, drooling pussy like a crazy possessed motherfucker.

Heavy wet balls thwacking against your slippery asshole that’s coated in a thin layer slick from your arousal every time he thrusts his unrelenting hips into you. His pace was so fucking animalistic, it’s as if his one and only goal was to break and abuse your poor pussy. His cock was stretching your little cunt open so deliciously, the sensation overwhelming your senses with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and desire that you couldn’t stop moaning and babbling noncoherent words that you don’t even think existed. Each powerful, hard thrust brought waves of carnal pleasure, making you completely lost in his crazy primal act. You’re sure as hell glad you bagged yourself a wealthy man who owns a mansion because if it was some normal apartment, there's no way you two wouldn't get noise complaints from your neighbors hearing the loud pounding of the headboard knocking against the walls, along with your fucked out moans and his filthy mouth.

“Hah—Such a goodd girl, is my cock making you cry like this?, Awww I’m sooo sorry sweetheart” he feigned, it’s so damn ironic how he’s “apologizing” yet his questionable actions showed no effort in dissenting what he was apologizing for. His twisted satisfaction at your distress was palpable, matter a fact you could swear you felt his cock hitting harder and harder against your bruised cervix, his tip hitting every single sensitive spot inside of you vehemently.

He let out a vocal moan when he felt your warm walls clenching tighter around his long veiny cock, your hole seizing around him snugly as he continues forcing it in and out, not letting your tightness prevent him from bullying your insides, Causing your back to arch which give him a better angle to fuck his cock deeper into your stubborn walls. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this baby, hahh-shit don't stop sweetheart—keep fucking crying for me” he moans out laughing, you hiss as you felt your thighs aching from being wrapped around his waist so tight–trapping him in. You felt so dizzy—hazed with pleasure as drool escapes your mouth, making him chuckle.

He bites his lip when he feels your cunt fluttering around him nonstop—he already grasp the hint that you're about to cum, even without you telling him.

“Fuck sweetheart, you gonna cum? Gonna make a mess all over this cock? Come on do it, babe, this dick is all fucking yours” he groans, snaking a hand down to rub fast circles on your throbbing clit. He lets out a low “fuck” when he felt how wet and socked you were down there. Your slick dripping down your asshole and onto his expensive sheets—ruining it. If it wasn’t for his blindfold, you would’ve definitely been 100% sure that his eyes were rolling back to his skull.

“Holy shittt— look at this slutty little pussy crying out for me, she’s just like you baby. Such a little crybaby” he laughed through a breathy moan. His hips now fucking into you at a disparated pace as he loses his mind inside your gushing pussy. His jaw falls slack as he continues fucking the both of you towards your horny orgasms. “Fuckk you know what? let’s cum together baby, fucking cum with me” he hissed, sticking his tongue out to lick the pathetic salty tears dripping down your cheeks. Your eyes roll back when you felt his cock twitching and throbbing inside of you as if it’s trying to communicate with your pussy.

He pressed his sticky sweat-covered forehead against yours, his hot minty breath fanning in your face. “Fuckk-hah-shit, are you ready sweetheart, m’gonna cum fuckfuckfuck” the two of you moaned desperately in unison. Your manicured nails dug deep into his toned biceps as cum spurts out of his throbbing dick as your cream smeared over all his cock. His eyes rolled back as he continues mixing your releases together, drips of God knows whose cum drips out of your pussy every time he attempts to fuck it deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Attaa girlll” he praises—painting, out of breath. His body collapses onto yours as heavy breathing fills your ears. His cock still buried deep deep into your soaked pussy. The amount of times you and Satoru fucked in this position was incalculable, maybe it’s because it’s the position he had you in the first time he fucked you— or maybe it’s because he’s such a teasing bully who loves to make fun of you, right in front of your face.

[garuda4321]

Don’t worry, I’ve been told I’ll get advanced notice if the world is ending from my buddy in Poland. I’ll make sure to keep you all posted on that. Of course, he also had an interesting thing to tell me, which I will quote because I think a lot of folks need to hear this. However, saving that for a little bit later because I feel like folks could use a bit of a motivational speech (I gave my first one today focused on hope, and boy do we need it).

Here goes.

I want to start by reminding people that it’s ok to feel. Whether that’s anger, sadness, hope, happiness, or whatever else you’re feeling, it is ok to feel them. Emotions should not be suppressed. I work very hard to ensure that I am a part of a community that is not only safe, but somewhere I can call home. I am always willing to invite more people into my home, especially in times of need as feeling safe is something everyone deserves.

I know that when faced with outcomes such as these, it is considerably easier to live with a victory than a loss. This is why this I am speaking about hope, having hope. I understand that not everyone has hope right now. If you do have it, please try to share some of that hope with those that do not have it. If you do not have it, hopefully you can find some in this reblog.

I am fairly certain that everyone has had the experience when something doesn’t go their way. In the realm of Ninja (the obstacle course racing variety), this is rampant. Perhaps we fell on the first obstacle of a course, or perhaps we missed qualifying for finals by mere seconds. When this happens, we have two choices. We can either stay down and let the negativity eat away at us, or we can get back up and keep training and trying until we reach our goal.

Unfortunately, we can only do that during training. On a course, when we fail obstacle one, that’s it, we don’t get a second chance. We don’t have that choice to stay down or get back up as we can’t change the outcome. As depressing as that sounds, it’s true.

You can’t change what happened and you don’t get the choice to “get up and try it again”. But we don’t have to sit and cry, complain, or hide from it either. We don’t have to give up.

Right now, there are lots of us that are down. We have communities that we feel safe and welcome in to support us when we need them. Together, as we refuse to give up, we can do each and every thing to help better our communities. It may not be a large difference, but a difference is a difference, and a difference matters! We can leave a smile, a compliment, or even a positive message behind because if someone is having a rough day, those small actions can make a large difference for them.

I encourage you to try to bridge outside of your comfort zone and meet new people, join new communities and try to spread some positivity in the world. I did so earlier today by giving a very similar speech to this one and again now by posting an abbreviated version of it. Do your best to make a difference with all people, no matter who they are, what they look like, or what they stand for. Because we will overcome whatever is thrown our way together, and by helping those that are struggling to overcome their own obstacles. We will believe and we will have faith. We may not know who or what to believe in, but we all know that we can believe in each other.

To finish us off, that quote from my friend in Poland.

“Remember that life is a long distance race. In a few months, a lot will change. In a few years, whole world will look completely different. Don’t lose your energy and faith in being a good person. World will need good people.”

Choose to be kind, caring, compassionate, and empathetic.

I’m signing off for now, maybe I’ll return with the next one I end up giving.

[rayroseu]

The Details on Malleus' Clubwear✨

⚠️messy and overblown analysis lol

also thanks to malleus, i now have little trivia about history of raincoats 💀

I feel like this card's details are so unexpected. I think everyone (me included) expected it to have a sculptor's outfit (I still want the sculptor outfit lol) or a researcher, but we overlook one fact about Malleus' club: his daily activity as a club member is just walking and sight seeing the gargoyles around the campus as told in his School Uniform card.

The crafting part and the researching are just consequence activities of observing the gargoyles, after all, as you admire these gargoyles for a long time, naturally of course, you would be interested in their history and be inspired to create them.

His club's name is Gargoyle Studies Club, and it seems like even the room of this club is heavy on research activities. When Malleus says that he also crafts the gargoyles, he seems to say it as like a little fun fact of the club, that its just a side activity. His "club room" seems to reflect that in his club, they do more reading than sculpting.

Mentioning this, it seems like Malleus' clubroom is the NRC library, in the distance, you can see the mezzanine is the same and the floating books and the lights are also alike. Because NRC library only has one picture used often, its interesting to see it in a different view. The closest we got from his clubroom is from Halloween. but in Malleus' clubwear its just devoid of decorations.

Additionally, since this is his clubroom, Library is also a place Malleus frequents. there's many instance where Malleus stays in the library.

Labwear: I love how quiet the library is in the afternoon. You're welcome to join me there sometime, if you want to see what I mean. Halloween: I suppose I've no recourse but to scour each bookshelf one by one. .... I was gathering reference materials, and before I knew it, I was surrounded by this mountain of books. Dorm Uniform Vignette: No one came after two hours of sitting alone, so I headed towards the library and waited for an hour, before finally making my way to the Headmaster’s Office.

And on the opening of TWST, he was only seen in the Library. (The windows are the same and after this shot, Grim found Malleus sitting beside the window, the background there is the NRC library).

One more interesting thing about the room, there is a globe here which I think is a nice implication that Malleus is also interested in other countries architecture (as shown in his reaction in Silk City). This says that Malleus extends his interested in architecture outside of Europe, bcs he also likes seeing ruins and the history of fallen countries (Malleus Bloom Vignette). Gargoyles are only limited in mostly European settings but no matter what as long as the architecture is functional ig, He'll like them even if they had no gargoyles bcs he's intrigued by History in general.

(on 2nd picture) And this is what I was hyped about the room the most lol THERE'S FINALLY A CROW STATUE ILLUSTRATED FOR HIS CLUB 😭✨🙏

Malleus: Ones with features inspired by ravens are rare. This one is the only one I've ever laid eyes on, as it happens. Silver: I see a raven statue on this wall as well. Perhaps these gargoyles aren't so rare around here.

It seems that this gargoyle is still on the process of being made. I'd like to imagine Malleus is still crafting this and its beside many books bcs he's researching and referencing for its design. Like, he wants to craft a raven gargoyle accurate to the animal and its history.

Additionally, the shape being made looks similar to the raven statues around the Coloseum, but I think unlike these statues, Malleus intends to craft this as a gargoyle, bcs what he's crafting is a raven with an open mouth (for the rainsprout ig), not like these statues whose beaks are closed.

Now, to go about his outfit lol, I really really didn't expect the trench coat (which is literally his dorm uniform in different format lol) to make a comeback lol I thought his SSR are for him to wear different clothes alksdfjlkfd but he looks stylish and classic (true to his furniture style)

But like this is also a good joke where we know long coats always looks good with tall people (that's why he keeps wearing them) lol (Look, there's a reason why Lilia doesn't properly wear his trench coat properly, he knows this clothing is not made for little people lol)😂

OKAY I'm not a fashion history expert, and most that I'll ramble here are just quick searches, bcs I'm always intrigued at how insistent Diasomnia fashion is in being close with Military clothes. even Yana Toboso on 2020 Magical Archive says the Diasomnia uniform is based on military clothes.

mackintosh trench coat history

Obviously, TWST isn's accurate about it bcs they're trying to fit "a fantasy design." Regardless, I believe out of all the dorm uniforms, Diasomnia has the clearest vision of a certain time period (I think their fashion is mostly based on 19th-20th century Europe)

Both his dorm uniform and club wear are trench coat essentially. The wide lapel (the triangular collar), the belts on waist, the buttons/zipper on front, the long length of the skirt, its leather are similar features between them. Notably, trench coats was invented for military purposes, much like how Diasomnia clothes are meant to look like military uniforms.

But I think what sets his club wear outfit apart from his Uniform is the fact that his top has a draping around his sleeves. I feel like its a nice design to tell that his outfit here is specifically raincoat. The closest I could find that relates to 19th century is the Mackintosh, its basically the early invention of a waterproof clothing/raincoat.

Unlike a trench coat, mackintosh has one purpose; to shelter from rain, that's why in Malleus' clubwear he has no stuff hanging around his belt and outfit (accurate to the example of a mackintosh?) unlike his dorm uniform bcs this raincoat is apparently meant to be simple and minimalistic.

Its not like the trench coat which has to be multi-purpose. In his dorm uniform, Malleus has many things around his belt, its accurate to the purpose of a belt in trench coat so that a soldier can hang things on them.

Additionally. trench coat was developed from the mackintosh, which for me solidifies the fact that his dorm uniform and his clubwear really has parallel inspirations

That part of his outfit could also be just a cloak lol. But yh, despite the little "first invented raincoat" inspiration, I do still think clubwear outfit is more trench coat than anything lol, its the double breasted buttons there that convinces me

But its interesting for me, bcs these fashion aren't really "Maleficent-live action accurate." (I'm aware TWST doesnt just take inspiration from one source though) In the movie Maleficent, their fashion was more inspired with traditional clothes, like as faes/the Moors, I expected them as well to have these clothes that makes them look like willow trees to reference that they're more nature connected.

She doesn’t wear garments made of leather or velvet, because leather and velvet don’t fly. There’s nothing heavy. It’s all made of fabrics that are light and airy.

This was also said in the costume design of Maleficent (live action) and why she always wear loose dresses. I feel like costume design of Diasomnia took the opposite turn, probably bcs they want to highlight Diasomnia's importance to strength and this dorm's notable significance in war. (Coats like these basically was prevalent in World War garments).

Moving on, the umbrella lol IT'S CROWLEY'S CANE ALKFJDKLSD Okay no. the difference is that, Malleus' handle has a gargoyle, the reference is probably the gargoyles of Notre Dame (Glorious Masquerade sneak lol) While Crowley is the usual raven statue found in NRC.

I feel like there's smth deep that I want to explain here that a cane (Crowley) is more about providing a support (a cane is for walking support essentially) while an umbrella is more about providing shelter, which is quite accurate for Malleus since he's a person who consistently protects rather than support.

That aside, other than the trench coat, the umbrella was the cutest surprise 😭✨I was so focused at thinking about his outfit that I forgot what should be his weapon for his clubwear alksdfd An umbrella is a genius idea 😭✨

I'm convinced its an umbrella rather than a parasol because Gargoyles are meant to work against rainstorms. So Malleus probably uses this umbrella to observe the gargoyle directing the rainwater on the drains.

When Malleus first introduced the gargoyles on his school uniform, it was a clear day, he couldnt demonstrate a gargoyle working "in action" to Silver.

It's pretty cute to think that Malleus likes to stroll around the rain so that he can see the gargoyles "working hard to protect the buildings from erosion." 😭✨💞

Funny thing is, when Malleus got rained on in Silk City, he used a barrier so he can easily go out in the rain without an umbrella, just his magical barrier is enough.

But I think, he insists on using this umbrella bcs the design feels like it has some meaning (for me lol). The outside of the umbrella is blank while the gargoyle design is on the inside. When it rains hard, and you can see the edges of the umbrella dripping with rainwater, it creates this vision that the gargoyles inside it are directing the rainwater on the ground which probably fascinates Malleus, its like this umbrella is a portable roof with gargoyles lol

I think there are only two gargoyles on his umbrella, they're both dragons i guess, but one looks sharper while the other one is softer in features.

idk who this is supposed to mean, maybe its Meleanor and Levan- alkkfdklsfdlk

[literally-loco]

My Boys' Girl (18+)

Pairings: John Price / Simon "Ghost" Riley / Fem!Reader / Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Content Warnings: Voyeurism, mentioned exhibitionism, she/her pronouns used for reader Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Shorter fic this time-I've got a longer one in the works tho! Also-If anyone has any fic suggestions PLEASE tell me and i'll try my best xoxo

———————————————————————— “She wanted to show off for you, Cap.”

————————————————————————

John Price knew what his boys got up to in their spare time. He didn’t have to be told-he saw how they looked at each other, how they’d cuddled up to each other in the back of the van when they thought no one was looking, how they’d instantly look at each other at the mention of an “early finish.” He knew what they got up to. Not that he cared-he loved his lads like they were family. He’d shot enough evil glares at anyone who dared to criticize or gossip about the two. But what he didn’t know was how they’d managed to pick up you. The pretty little thing he’d seen clutching Johnny’s arm when they went to the pub, with the most beautiful eyes. He was happy for his lads-how they’d found home in each other, but God his eyes were drawn to you. Your perfect curves, your breasts (even if it made him feel like a dick), and your eyes. He could envision them looking up at him through those beautiful lashes, lips wrapped around his cock. 

He felt terrible about it. The lads obviously liked you a lot, and you’d been nothing but nice to him. And here he was-fantasizing about you. He’d often find himself getting off to you, wearing whatever tight little dress he’d seen you in. Cock in hand, imagining it was your mouth he was fucking. Nearly every night he’d flick through the selfies he’d gotten from MacTavish, nearly every photo including you. 

And then another notification came through-a photo, as usual. But it wasn’t the usual jokey selfie-which usually included you draped over the lads in some sort of way. This was different. This photo was…new. Evidently Ghost’s hands-based on the glove-tilting your face up by the chin, with your big, beautiful eyes staring into the camera. Eyes lidded every so slightly, with a blissed out look on your face. God you looked perfect. 

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at that picture, his cock already stiffening in his trousers, until the next one came through. He exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping the arm of the chair a lot tighter than he had previously. It was like he could feel all the blood in his body rushing down, as he caught sight of you in the photo. Ass up in the air, face down in the pillow. Ghost’s hands were clearly holding your hands behind your back, and your pussy was barely covered by the lacy piece of string you called a thong. 

“She wanted to show off for you Cap.” The text read, and Price sucked in a breath. His hand swiftly reached down to palm his now painfully hard cock through his trousers. He could just imagine slipping his fingers inside you-finding that sweet spot deep inside you that would make your toes curl. 

His fingers were pressing the call button before he knew what he was doing. 

“Evening Captain. To what do we owe the honor?” Johnny’s voice rang out, sounding slightly too amused with himself.

“Photos, MacTavish. What was up with that?” Price asked, his voice catching in his throat slightly at Johnny’s ever so evil chuckle.

Price swears he can hear the plot in Johnny’s head as he spoke, the soft rustling of the duvet giving away where exactly he was. “Why don’t I put her on the phone for you?” 

————————————————————————

You could barely think-but somehow managed to pull yourself together enough to take the phone off of Johnny. “He-Hey John!” You squeaked out, instantly covering your mouth to conceal the moan that dared to try to escape your lips. Ghost’s hands gripped your hips, fucking into you at such speed you wondered how his knees didn’t give out, with his cock hitting that sweet spongy part deep inside you. 

“Heard you wanted to show off for me, love?” His voice rumbled through the phone, dark and smooth like a good whiskey. That teasing tone, the soft chuckle in his words, it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Go on then. Talk to me.”

At that, Ghost picked up the pace, hands gripping the flesh of your hip so tight you were sure it would leave bruises. “Is he making you feel good, love? Making your legs shake?” You inhaled a strangled gasp, biting your lower lip slightly. 

“Asked you a question.” Ye-ah-” You whined, bucking your hips back against Ghost. Something about having Price on the phone, with Ghost fucking you like his life depended on it, and Johnny watching from the corner-it felt so dirty. But so good. “Need-need to cum-” 

“I know you do, love. Gonna cum for me?” Ghost’s hands found your clit, earning a string of moans out of you. “Yeah she is-can feel her squeezing around me. So fucking tight-and wet-” Ghost’s thrusts grew staggered, his hips slamming into yours. You didn’t care to be quiet anymore, there was no point. 

————————————————————————

John already knew what was going on. He’d known before he’d called. He knew when he called that you’d be on your back-but he hadn’t expected to be listening. It felt dirty. But God the way your sweet little moans had him gripping his aching cock, and his head tossed back over the chair. Bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was fucking your soft little cunt. “Gonna cum for me?” He’d asked-and the gasps and moans he got in return had him gasping for breath. 

“I know you need it, love.” He murmured into the phone, trying his hardest not to cum before you. “Be a good girl and cum for me.” He needed to hear you cum. To hear those gorgeous gasps as you came on his Lieutenant’s cock, imagining he was the one balls deep inside you. “Come on, love, cum for me.” 

And the shuddering moans he received was enough for him to spill over his hand. Panting heavily-he was barely aware enough to hear Ghost’s cursing gasps as he followed. 

“Enjoyed the show then, Captain?” Johnny’s voice was back, sounding equally out of breath as the rest of them. “Should’ve seen it in person-she played such a good girl when you got on the phone.” His words sent another shudder down his back.

“You knew then?” 

“Had a hunch. Couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.” Price groaned as his hand-the clean one-came up to cover his face. He’d been that obvious. The whole time. 

“Don’t worry lad-she’s already eager to see you again. I’m always down for a good show-and Simon’s pretty interested in seeing how she’d take both of you.”  Well shit. The next pub meet was going to go very well for him.

[sunflowergardens-world]

Having been in one of the areas hit hard by Helene, I am here to tell you that our communities are way further away from collapse than we think they are. We had people in our area going out with their chainsaws to help clear roads while they still had trees down on their own places. Our neighbors let us borrow their phones to call family and let them know we were ok while ours didn't have service (different providers, in case you're wondering how that worked). There was a young couple that came by our church and said that they had driven over four hours to bring supplies, and the place they were bringing supplies to literally had signs set out on the road, with a water hose for people to use whenever they needed, baby formula, and so many other things that I'm not even sure what all they had. I could keep going, but the point here is that people still come together and help each other in the middle of horrible crisis. Our grid did go down (and isn't fully back up in some places), but we made it through, and we had each other's backs in the middle of it. So if you're reading this, please be encouraged. There is still a sense of community in America, and there are people out there who will have your back when things are hard. Our society isn't gone yet, and with the kind of people I've gotten to see in action here over the past month since the storm, I don't think it's going anywhere

My mother is all into homesteading and off-grid living videos right now. Every time I check up on her, this is what she wants to talk about.

It gives her a sense of peace and purpose I guess. Which is good, she’s been struggling to find that with her injuries and condition. She’s learning skills, and feeling prepared for “the worst”. Like I can’t get her to stop watching conspiracy theory bullshit on YouTube so at least this kind of content alleviates some of the anxiety the other content amplifies, because she feels like she can do something now to secure her safety later.

But to get through these conversations, I have to tell myself— hey, if natural disaster comes our way, some of this might be useful. But I know she’s not just thinking a big storm or natural disaster. She’s preparing for the collapse of society. And I don’t know how to break it to her that we wouldn’t survive that. You can make long lasting candles with crisco? Cool. Where you going to by crisco when society collapses? You’ll stock up now? Ok cool. What will you do when it runs out? Honestly, before it runs out, what will you do when people with guns come to take your various stockpiled supplies?

If we hit a point where society collapses, we’re done for. Food, medicine, etc. we can’t survive without society, without a world where people are working together trying to help each other out.

So, I’ll go through with this shit in the name of natural disaster preparedness, and because it helps her. But that’s as far as I’m willing to put energy into it. I refuse to prepare for, bet on, or hope for the collapse of society. I’d rather spend my energy trying to prevent society collapsing, what little part I can play in that. I’d rather spend my energy supporting people in my community. I’d rather work and build towards a better future, not prepare for the worst.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ things they do that makes you second think about your friendship - RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist // genre fluff // pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ shotaro . . . playful teasing It was strange to see how Shotaro acted playfully only with you, teasing you in ways he didn't with your other friends. He would always sneak up behind you to tickle you, leaving his hands on your waist for a few seconds after. The smile he’d flash afterward always made you melt, and you found yourself wondering if you saw him as more than just a friend.

ᯓ★ eunseok . . . frequent eye contact The way you sometimes (well, often) caught Eunseok looking at you and holding eye contact for a few seconds made you feel things for him. Although you were only friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at each other, always glancing away when you felt your cheeks starting to turn red.

ᯓ★ sungchan . . . jealousy Why did he act like that when you were supposed to be just friends? Sometimes Sungchan seemed like he didn’t want you spending time with other guys, as if he wanted you all to himself. Whenever you were with your group of friends, he’d always try to stay close to you, or if he saw you talking with someone else, he’d find a way to join the conversation or call you away to be with him.

ᯓ★ wonbin . . . prioritizing you over others When you heard that Wonbin had canceled a dinner with his lifelong friends to pick you up from somewhere, you began to wonder if you really were just friends. He started prioritizing you over other people, whether to ask for advice or to spend time together.

ᯓ★ seunghan . . . frequent compliments Seunghan was friendly to everyone, and he always spoke well of others. But with you, it felt different, and sometimes you weren’t sure if you were more than just friends. Every time he saw you, he’d tell you how beautiful you looked, along with so many other compliments that made your heart race, leaving you questioning what Seunghan really felt for you—and what you felt for him.

ᯓ★ sohee . . . thoughtful gestures People who had known Sohee longer had told you he didn’t usually behave the way he did with you. He rarely bought snacks and drinks for others without a reason, pulled out their chair to help them sit, and certainly never offered his jacket if it was cold (especially since he hated being cold himself). These gestures he did for you but not for others confused you, leaving you to misinterpret your friendship.

ᯓ★ anton . . . frequent texting + nervousness When you hung out with Anton and your friends, he didn’t use his phone much—he barely touched it, in fact. That’s why it felt strange that he always replied to your messages quickly, and you’d often end up talking for hours at night. The odd thing was that even though you talked so much over the phone, he always seemed nervous talking to you in person, making you wonder if he saw you as just a friend.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123

@sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

���Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

Chapter 6

MASTERLIST

tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: Last night was… well it just was. And Tara wasn’t really happy about it, clearly.

tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, hangover y/n, angry tara, jelous, jealous, jealous

Tara always got what she wanted. Always. Did she think she was spoiled? No, not really. She didn´t think she was spoiled, she just hated the idea of not getting what she wanted and everyone around her knew it. Especially her sister.

She and Sam were the same yet so different. They looked the same, cared for one another the same and almost enjoyed the same things. But what they didn´t share was opinions and judgment. The viewing of the world and its look. The sentiment. But at the end of the day, things were thrown into the trash because they had nothing to do with love.

They would do first and last for each other.

These were the things that the young Carpenter appreciated the most. Having family and friends that she could rely on and trust. She would do anything to protect her circle of the people she loves. Why was she even thinking that way right now?

Because of her.

At the time Tara got home she already scrutinized the girl. Found out her name and birthday, her family and the names of her friends as well as her pet, which was by the way pretty cute but Tara didn´t want to get distracted and soft by that idea.

She checked who she follows and...

„This bitch.“ Tara whispered under her breath after she found your account in her following list. Of course, she already did that. Tara wouldn´t be surprised if she already texted you. Her fists clenched at that thought.

Her finger pressed the small round photo of yours to get into your page. Your photos and highlights loaded and Tara started to stalk. No, she wasn´t a stalker and she definitely wasn´t stalking you, she was just looking for her friend.

Friend.

That´s what you are now? To Tara you have always been someone close to her friends, you were in her friend group but she never took you as a friend. She got feeling she wasn´t your friend either but... she needed to take care of you because of her friends, no?

She clicked on the last post of yours which were some random photos you took like school and coffee, there was even Ethan who looked like he didn´t enjoy being photographed, the last photo was you with a headset around your head doing some weird faces.

You were pretty cute, yeah so what? She finally said that but that doesn´t mean you aren´t getting on her nerves every time you open your stupid mouth.

„Your right dimple is deeper than the left one.“

Tara´s corners of her mouth got up a little.

After that, she pressed the button of the comments. Chad was laughing at Ethan and also Ethan cursing you. The last comment is what made Tara´s smile drop. It was from that girl, an emoji with a heart in her eyes.

Liked by the author.

Sam was minding her business in the next room when she suddenly heard a loud sound coming from her younger sister´s room.

„What the hell is she doing?“

-

The bright sun shining through the window right into your eyes was the first thing your brain processed. Maybe if you were a little bit smarter last night and didn´t drink like an alcoholic you would be in a better state.

„Ugh someone help.“ you rolled on the side of your bed and stood up. You felt disgusting you smelled bad and your hair was everywhere. The clothes from the night before were still on you only now they looked all folded and wet from your sweat.

You grabbed your phone that was on your table seeing a lot of unopened messages as well as a low battery. Suddenly it started ringing signalizing a phone call.

„Hello?“ you said with your throat hurting a little.

„Y/N? Hey buddy, you okay?“

„I´m fine Ethan, I just woke up what´s up?“

„Oh, sorry! I was just a little worried about you I didn´t see you yesterday leaving and also didn´t hear from you so I just wanted to check.“ he said with a quick explanation.

„Oh I just drank a little more than I should have yesterday.“ you laughed a little still with not much energy. You just wanted to take a shower and go to bed again.

„You don´t feel fine? Should I come? I-“

„No Ethan it´s fine, I´m fine just a little exhausted but nothing serious. Don´t stress yourself.“

„Oh.“ he said quietly trying to read your voice. „If you say so, but if anything just text me, okay? I want to be here for my friend.“

You smiled at his words. No doubt he was your best friend. ���Of course. Thanks, buddy.“

You grabbed new clothes and went straight to the shower. It was like an invisible relief that was washed off of you. After that, you put on some sweatpants with a hoodie and went to lie down again. Suddenly your phone lit up with a new message.

Demi: Hey you ok? I was worried ab you last night

Demi: when you wake up text me

Demi: Y/N

It was Demitra? Were you that much wasted that everybody knows it or what? Oh Gosh, you prayed that you didn´t do anything embarrassing what will everybody remember for the rest of their lives when they look at you?

And even though, why was she so worried, it wasn´t like you knew each other that long. But it was good to have someone to worry about you except your best friend.

Y/N: hey sorry to worry!

Y/N: everything fine promise

She immediately saw your text and replied to you. You spent a pretty long time just texting and lying around, having no energy to do anything more. Demitra was a good girl. She was attentive and soft-spoken. You weren´t an idiot, you saw that she was interested in you, otherwise she wouldn´t try to talk to you every time she saw you or texted you, right?

But was she someone you would go out? You´ve never thought about it not anyone. Maybe it was time to finally step up from this introverted state and go to see some new people. Who knows, maybe it will lead to her. The question is, would you be mad about it?

-

The knock on your door was a thing that tore you off of watching the TV. You kept lying down with a confused face. But the knock was there again only this time louder.

„Are you serious.“ you got up not wanting to leave your comfortable couch. Behind your door was Mindy and Chad with Ethan and behind him Tara.

„And what are you doing here huh?“ you asked as you opened the door wider for them to come in.

„Why are you asking so offended do you have someone in here?“ Chad said with a smirk on his face.

„Y/N why the hell is so dark in here? I feel like I´m in a cave!“ Mindy yelled as she went to your window to unfold the curtains.

Tara turned around and scrunched her nose. „Ew it smells so bad in here, do you ever open your windows?“

„Oh my and this trash, when was the last time you cleaned your house Y/N?“ Chad asked. Your nerves were getting higher with each word that left their mouth. Did you come to annoy you?

„You came here just to get on my nerves or what?“

„Y/N I bought you a soup.“ you turned to Ethan who was standing across the room with a small can of food. He was so cute that you would never forgive yourself if you said something hurtful.

„Thanks, Ethan you are the best.“

Chad sat down on your couch taking a controller into his hand. „And I´m not?“

„No, you are an idiot.“ you smiled vacantly at him. „And anyway weren´t you also drunk last night?“ you asked him.

„Well yeah but I guess I can just handle it better than you.“ he smiled.

„Handle it better my ass.“ you whispered under your breath with an annoyed look.

-

„How do you feel?“

You turned to the side seeing Tara leaning by the kitchen door. Her arms were folded and her eyes were focused on you.

„Fine, I guess.“ you said as you took another spoon of Ethan´s soup into your mouth.

She higher up her eyebrows as if she didn´t believe you. „I´m pretty surprised, you were like a different person last night.“ Your eyes widen at her words.

„No I wasn´t! I was completely fine!“

„Raising your voice is only making me sure that you don´t remember a thing.“ she unfolded her arms and went into your fridge.

„Yeah I forgot that you know everything.“ you shot her an angry look. „And what do you think you are doing?“

„Serving myself?“ she grabbed some snack that was there opened it and took a bite. „And yeah, I know because I was taking care of your drunk ass yesterday you idiot.

„So what? You want me to thank you?“ you looked at her with face puppy dog eyes. She rolled your eyes at your child's behavior.

„That´s what it should be.“

„Yeah like hell that I will thank someone like you. I don´t remember it so I´m taking it like it never happened to shut your short ass up.“

„What did you say you moron?“ she ran to you and slapped your shoulder with all her strength.

„Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?“ you stood up looking down at her with anger across your face.

„Me? You are the one that doesn´t have the basics or polite behavior!“ she yelled into your face with her big brown eyes standing almost on her tippy toes to look more intimidating.

„Will you two stop it´s getting annoying!“ Mindy yelled from the living room. You huffed before you grabbed the plate with your soup to leave.

Tara looked down at her hand and then looked at you. „Great now I have to use hand sanitizer!“

You pleased all the angels and every creature that can hear you for your help not to throw that soup at her at that moment.

-

Tara was sitting on your couch beside Mindy. You all were watching some show that was already on when they came in. Your eyes were barely open leaning your head on Ethan´s shoulder. Without her noticing Tara smiled a little at sigh.

„Can someone pass me that please?“ you asked with a low voice pointing at the snack that was on a table in front of you.

„You can get it yourself.“ Tara mumbled.

„But I said please!“

„So? That means you will get whatever you want?“

You just sighed at her words yet not changing your position. Ethan bent over to get it for you but before his hand was able to get it someone else already did that.

Tara grabbed the snack and threw it on you. Then she turned to watch the show again without any word like nothing happened. You just caught the snack with a small thank you. Everyone in the room saw this small interaction. Of course, they did it didn´t happen a lot of times that you two acted like friends, not like enemies. So whenever this happens they smile a little having some kind of calmness in their chests.

After the show, everyone went somewhere in the house leaving Tara still in the place. She was scrolling down on her phone out of boredom when suddenly your phone rang with a notification. That caught the brunette's attention. It was a message from the Instagram dm´s.

The girl looked up if someone was coming before taking your phone into her hands. Demi. Demi?! You were texting each other? Who did text first? Was it her? And what did you even talk about?

Tara desperately wanted you to just block her, she was no good. Tara hated her with all her heart.

This bitch just can´t get off, can she?!

[multipleoccupancy]

"I think we need to stay in sight of that guy," Theo said of the orderly still by the door, ready for a fight and not wanting to give him any excuse to decide to go after them or to send others after them. "We can't be accused of anything if so many people can see us," but it did leave them exposed to the other patients as the common room ended up full of people.

A patient repeated the scream "He's dead!" He shouted followed by what could only really be described as a mad cackle before he jumped onto one of the tables and proceeded to start to dance while he sang the phrase merrily. Some patients clapped to no particular beat, laughing along, some were crying and starting to argue with each other. The tension in the room was rapidly rising but it felt somehow better than whatever was in the corridor, someone was wailing and bawling with tears.

Mauve was right, two deaths was weird, troubling in fact. "I think so." He couldn't remember how much time passed between deaths in the ward but two in two days did feel excessive. "This one feels different, something is really wrong." His eyes shifted from the unpredictable patients and to the corridor door way, wanting to know what had happened and who was dead. "Do you think someone killed an orderly?" The whistles had stopped and the shouting carried on and the sheer panic from the other patients who had fled the corridor was out of character. Theo felt himself shaking and his heart racing, not at all comfortable in the situation but he made sure to stick beside Mauve. Whatever was coming they would handle together, right.

One of the orderlies came tumbling through the corridor doorway, distraught as he landed on his hands and knees and promptly threw up all over the floor, making several patients start hollering and laughing. Theo looked at the man and despite hating the orderlies, seeing him so disturbed was horribly unnerving. "This is bad," Theo whispered to her nervously.

"No one goes in that corridor! No one moves!" Ordered another orderly who emerged from the corridor behind the vomiting man. "All of you get down on the floor, lie down on your stomachs, hands to your sides and to yourselves. GET DOWN!" He ordered, pulling out a baton and turning it on with a terrible crackling and then a buzz. Patients started doing as they were told and Theo stole a quick glance to Mauve to encourage her to follow suit.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet followed Theo's example, taking a few steps back until her back was against the wall. The common room was filled with more and more patients as they fled from the corridor, screaming, wailing, and sometimes laughing hysterically. If it was a fight, they'd be participating. No, this was different. She nodded. "Yes, you're right. Let's- let's just stay here... or should we go hide in the kitchen?"

In the chaos of screams and limbs, Violet couldn't help but notice that Cecil was strangely calm. She didn't think much of it -he was a dangerous, unpredictable man. If anything, she preferred for him to stay calm!

A scream confirmed Violet's worst suspicions: someone else was dead. "It's happened again," she whispered, pale as a sheet, "two deaths in two days... that's a lot, right? Even for the ward?" Had Cecil killed someone? Was that why he was so calm? But he'd been in the common room this whole time!

[pboogerswbb]

a lil teaser... sooooo you guys want this or no?

it's Paige x reader

also toxic!paige warning lol

-

“Been missing you y’know-” Paige starts but I interrupt, knowing she had the tendency to talk herself right into my bed.

“Told you I never wanted to talk to you again, remember?” I say hating how shaky my voice sounds.

“Baby c’mon, you weren’t serious about that,” her hoarse voice filled with amusement.

“What, the screaming didn’t seem serious to you?” I sigh my eyes strictly on the road. Paige let’s out a chuckle and leans forward on the car seat.

“Ion remember non of that, just remember how bad I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you,” she chuckles and the car drifts off the lane for just a moment as i slap her only half seriously across the chest. I pull over on the road, parking the car. She was amused and it was pissing me off, bad.

“Get out,” I tell Paige sternly, rage and annoyance swirling inside me. She had no right to be making light of the situation. Not after how bad she had hurt me.

Paige lets out a laugh. “Man you’re crazy,” she tells me turning to face me. I face her too, the anger turning my cheeks even brighter. 

“I’m fucking serious. Get out,” I repeat my voice rising a little but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Paige just chuckles and shakes her head.

“KK always telling me I pick the crazy ones, I’m thinking she’s right,” Paige groans, not taking any initiative to get out of my car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and groan, leaning over Paige manspreading on the passenger seat, reaching for her door as she grabs my wrist, my face so close to hers I could smell the alcohol on her breath. The air in the car shifts, my annoyance turning into something that made my legs feel weak, as she licks her lips, her eyes on me. “M sorry ok,” Paige says, her voice low and hoarse now.

I fold, once again.

“I don’t wanna hear a word from you, mmkay?” I say with a sigh, clearing my throat and pulling back from her before I made some really, really bad choices. Paige's let's go of my wrist, her grip leaving my skin tingling.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige grins, satisfied by the effect she had on me.

I start the car and in silence we drive back to campus, the streets quiet on the dark Tuesday night. Paige fiddles with the zipper of her hoodie, her nimble fingers needing something to do - always looking for something to toy with. 

I tried to shake the feeling of each cell in my body screaming for her, needing to feel her skin against mine. I knew we weren’t good for each other. She wasn’t good for me. Part of me wished she came to tell me she’s done fucking around. That I’m all she wants, better than all the countless other girls that spent nights in her bed. That I was different, special. Worth letting everyone else go for. Frankly, even if she told me all those things, each word I wanted to hear, I wouldn’t believe her. 

When you were with Paige, it never felt like you were one of many though. She knew how to make you feel like you were the only one. It was in the way her blue eyes roamed my face, in the whine of her voice - like she would die if she didn’t have me. She’d remember your favourite movie and your mother’s name and the way you liked your coffee. All just to go see some other bitch later and repeat the same routine with her. Even with the girls she fucked, she had to be the best. Not because they meant anything, but because that’s who she had to be - the best. A winner.

[getoslamb]

a/n: slow intro with a fair bit of dialogue & little plot twist at the end? + if you don't like gunplay, i promise this is not the one for you, don't read it wc: 5.7k

the rest of kinktober here + (toji art credit) + special tag @risararelywrites <3

As the night crept on, the thrill of the scare park hung thick in the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and muffled shrieks from other visitors. You walked arm-in-arm with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru, revelling in the pulse of adrenaline that shot through you whenever an actor lunged from the darkness. Together, you’d gone through nearly every haunted house in the park, each one more elaborate than the last. 

But now, as you drifted toward the edge of the grounds, the lively sounds began to fade, swallowed up by the sight of a lone haunted house standing apart from the others—a grim silhouette shrouded in eerie, rolling fog.

This house looked different. It was darker, older, with an unsettling aura that seemed to thicken the air around it. Unlike the other exhibits, there were no bright lights, no cheering guides or costumed actors welcoming you in, just an open doorway that hinted at cracked wood, grimy windows, and shadows that seemed to hang around and watch.

"Why isn’t anyone going in?" you murmured, stopping to stare at the building. "Did they close it for the night?"

Shoko glanced at Suguru, exchanging a look that sent a tiny ripple of unease through you. “No, it’s open. Just not exactly popular,” she replied, her voice low.

“Not popular?” You smirked, letting the hint of a challenge seep in. “Is it really that bad?”

“Depends who you ask,” Satoru replied, his usual playful tone missing as he stared at the house. “People don’t go in alone.”

“It’s a scare park.” You scoffed, waving off his warning. “How scary could it actually be?”

Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare seriousness in his eyes. “This one’s different. People say there’s something… wrong with it. Nobody wants to find out for sure.”

“Wrong?” you echoed, crossing your arms. “How, exactly?”

“Some say there’s a man who hides in there,” Shoko murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “They don’t know if he’s some rogue actor or just… some crazy man. But he’s armed. Supposedly, he sneaks around pretending to be part of the act.”

You looked at the house again, half-amused, half-spooked. “So you’re telling me there’s a real psycho in there hiding out? Right.”

Your friends exchanged wary glances, their usual bravado notably absent, which only deepened your curiosity. “You’re serious? This is over some urban legend?”

“It’s not a legend,” Shoko muttered, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to see someone creeping out of the fog. “People say they’ve seen him covered in blood. They say he blends right in until it’s too late.”

“Staff avoid it too,” Satoru added, his tone unusually flat. “So if you’re thinking about going in, maybe reconsider.”

A thrill shot through you, half defiance, half intrigue. The house loomed ahead, daring you. “So you all think he’s in there tonight?”

Suguru’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “It’s not worth finding out. There are plenty of other places we can check out.”

But the challenge tugged at you, almost tauntingly. You took a step forward, drawing exasperated sighs from your friends.

"Are you actually going in there?"

"This is a hard no for me," Shoko insisted.

“Come on, we’re not kidding around,” Suguru said, his expression sombre.

You gave them a shrug and a smile. “I’ll just peek in, five minutes, that’s all.”

Shoko crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Right, nothing bad ever happens in ‘just five minutes.’”

“Remember, if he’s in there, we’re not coming to save you.” Satoru jokes as he rolls his eyes.

"Noted," you replied, dancing around him with a grin. "If anything happens, at least I'll have a story."

But as you moved toward the darkened doorway, the memories of the warnings hounded you, and crossing the threshold, a small voice whispered, maybe they're right.

Inside, the shadows clung to the walls, warping and shifting with every flicker of the dim yellowing light bulbs. The air was heavy, still, as though the house itself was holding its breath, waiting. With each cautious step, the floor remained eerily silent-no familiar creaks, no whispers from other thrill-seekers echoing from somewhere in the darkness. The quiet was suffocating.

"It's just another haunted house," you whispered, trying to break the silence. But even your voice seemed to be swallowed up by the shadows.

You reached the edge of a dusty, darkened room when a soft dragging sound cut through the quiet. You whirled around, your heart hammering, but the hallway behind you was empty. The moment you began to steady your breath, a low rumbling chuckle echoed through the room, crawling down your spine.

"Didn't think anyone would wander in alone," a voice drawled from the shadows, smooth and dripping with dark amusement. "You've got guts.”

Your breath caught as a figure began to take form: a tall, wide man whose eyes glinted in the poor light. He moved like a shadow off the wall, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he took another step forward, the faint glow illuminating a pistol in his hand, his finger lazily resting near the trigger.

You swallowed hard and forced a grin, hoping to mask your unease. "Are… are you part of the show?"

He chuckled, his eyes raking over you with dangerous curiosity. "I'm part of an experience," he told you, that taunting smile twisting. "But not the kind you paid for.”

Your heart was racing as he closed in; his eyes were razor-sharp and predatory. He didn't hurry-if anything, he drew out the fear across your features. The pistol glinted in his hand, but his gaze stayed fixed on you, like he was reading every flicker of emotion.

He moved forward with a nearly lazy step; his head fell to the side as his smile grew, watching you inch backward. "So, you thought this was just another haunted house?" he asked, the tiniest thread of dark thrill weaved in. "Guess it's too late to warn you some rumours are worth listening to.

Your back hit the wall, and his eyes lit up with a spark of satisfaction. He leaned in closer, pressing the gun against his temple as he did so, an intense gaze and a chilling gleam in his eye. "You've got that look-the one which says you're curious. Brave, maybe a little too much so." He paused, smirk deepening. "So, how brave are you feeling now?”

You clenched your jaw and wouldn't flinch. "Maybe I am not as easy to scare as you think," you muttered, though your own voice quivered ever so slightly. "Oh?" His smirk whittled just a little sharper, a flash of mirth dancing in his eyes. "Then let us see.”

He let go of your wrist, only to trail the gun’s barrel along your jawline, his eyes drinking in every flinch, every shiver. He seemed to delight in drawing out the silence, each second weighted with his slow, deliberate movements. And in that quiet, somehow, the unspoken threat felt far more sinister.

As he studied you, his gaze lingered, savouring the fear that glinted in your eyes. “I have all night to see what it takes to break you,” he murmured, his voice almost playful. “And something tells me, this is going to be fun.”

The glint in his eyes held a dark promise, and you knew, too late, that you’d wandered into a trap—the kind that left you wondering just who, exactly, was meant to be scared.

You swallowed, struggling to hold his gaze, fighting the instinct to look away. But he had you cornered, and he knew it—knew you were trapped in his snare, just like he’d intended. The glint in his eye sharpened as he watched, a spark of twisted satisfaction lighting up his face as he took in every flicker of fear.

The man’s grin stretched wider, dark and mocking, as he watched you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered the gun, tracing the cold barrel down your jawline, his eyes studying every inch of your face with a predatory intensity. The silence between you pressed in, suffocating and tense, somehow worse than any threat he could have made.

“You’re trembling now,” he whispered, voice dipped in dark humour. “But it makes me wonder…” He tilted his head, a false look of innocence softening his gaze even as his smirk stayed razor-sharp. “Is it fear making you shake? Or is it something… else?”

Your breath caught, a barely perceptible hitch that he didn’t miss. His smirk grew, as though he’d stumbled on a private joke, something only he was in on. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re the kind who gets a thrill out of all this?” he mocked, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, as if he were sharing a secret with you. “The type who’d never admit it, but… can’t help the way their heart races anyway.”

You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you off so easily. With a nudge from the gun, he forced your chin up, his gaze locking with yours. “I see you,” he continued, inching closer, his warm breath fanning across your skin. “People like you walk in here alone, pretending it’s just for the thrill.” He leaned in, his voice lowering to a near murmur against your ear. “But maybe you wanted more.”

His words sent a shiver through you, mingling fear with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaned back, watching your reaction, fingers brushing the side of your face in a touch that was disturbingly gentle. “Maybe that’s why you’re here,” he said, a rough laugh slipping from his lips. “I doubt someone like you would admit it, though.”

Your mind raced, and your voice caught in your throat, a knot of indignation and fear keeping you silent. He noticed, smirking like he’d already won. “Right on the mark, aren’t I?” he murmured, his hand resting on your cheek. “It’s always the innocent ones—scare the easiest, break the fastest.”

Your heart pounded, and though you willed yourself to pull away, your body seemed frozen under his touch. He held your gaze, thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “Just say it,” he teased, leaning close again. His thumb pressed lightly against your throat, tracing the beat of your pulse. “You didn’t come in here just for the scare, did you?”

The mocking smile he wore softened slightly, his voice lowering to a nearly intimate whisper. “I can feel it—the way you’re responding. The thrill, the nerves, the part of you that’s not sure if you want to run… or stay.”

You hated the way he seemed to read you, hated that he saw through the mask you wore to the part of you he’d awakened, a part tinged with something reckless and dangerous. He bent down further, enjoying how he had you at his mercy. "That's it, isn't it?" he mumbled, "It's a game-this line between predator and prey." His voice dropped to a purr. “Between fear… and whatever this is.”

You tried to steady your breath as he studied every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch feather-light but charged, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“How much would you actually enjoy being pushed?” he wondered aloud, eyes glinting. “Maybe you’d even beg for it. Maybe you’d even like not having control.”

A thrill of panic mingled with something darker, something that made your heart beat faster. He could see it, knew the effect he was having, and the satisfaction on his face only grew. “Just admit it,” he murmured, his tone insistent, his thumb grazing your jawline. “Admit how much you’re enjoying this.”

His fingertips lingered on your hip, a reassuring touch that was highly unsettling, as if he were daring you to let those words pass your lips out loud. "Come on," he seduced, the devilish glint dancing in his eyes. "I promise I won't bite… unless you're asking.

His hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you against him. The heat of his body reminded you just how close he was, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted. His voice dropped to a near-growl. “Last chance to back out.” His lips ghosted over your earlobe. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don’t…”

His grip tightened, teeth grazing your ear, and then he pulled back, his gaze sharp as he slipped the gun into his waistband. His eyes were fixed upon yours with such intensity and something so akin to hunger; it sent the shiver down your spine. "So," he breathed, his voice low, with just a hint of challenge. "Ready to play?

Your heartbeat pounded against your rib cage, each thud a resonating drum in the silence between you. His words, his touch, the heat radiating off his body, it threatened to overwhelm you, drowning out every rational thought. You knew you should tell him to stop, should put space between you, but something kept you frozen there, curiosity mixing with the thrill of the unknown.

"I… I don't.", you stuttered, all but a whisper, while shallow breaths betrayed you, even in protest.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk edging toward a full grin. “You don’t what?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “Don’t want me to stop… or don’t know if you should?”

Closer still, he leaned in until his nose brushed against yours, his gaze burrowing into yours with an intensity that made your knees feel weak. “I think you want this more than you’ll admit,” he murmured. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck. “Just say the word,” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours. “I’ll give you everything you’ve been too afraid to ask for.”

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, a playful nip that he soothed with his tongue, his voice softening to a near-coax. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed, every word a slow, dangerous promise. “Let yourself stop fighting it.”

"Okay," you whispered, just barely audible, the last shred of resistance dissolving as his lips claimed yours-hard and demanding. The kiss bruised with its possessiveness-he took your mouth with such hunger that robbed your breath, his tongue delving deep inside to consume you. His hand tangles in the strands of your hair, keeping you firmly in place, the other roaming along your body, mapping out every curve.

But the next instant, he pushed you away, and you tumbled backward, falling against a stack of old props that tumbled with you, a flicker of fear crossing your features. He saw it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he mocked, stalking toward you on lean legs with a predator's ease. "Scared off so soon?"

His eyes shone with a feral light, a cruel smirk playing about his lips. "I thought you wanted to play."

He leaned over you, grasping at your chin roughly to force you to look up at him. "Maybe you're not as brave as you thought," he sneered. "Or maybe", the tone darker, "you just need a little more incentive."

His hand had gone to his waistband, drawing out his gun. He pressed the cold metal against your lips, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that chilled you to the bone.

"Open up, sweetheart," he ordered in his voice, a thick coating of mockery. "Let's see if you're as good with that mouth as I think you are." A hand twisted in your hair yanking your head back to bare the line of your neck. "Or maybe," he mused, "I should just shut you up completely."

He traced the gun along your jaw, down your throat, stopping at the hollow at the bottom of your neck. His eyes never once strayed from yours as he watched for the effects, feeding off your growing fear. "What's it gonna be, baby? Want to play nice, or should I get rough with you?"

He leaned closer, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee as he savoured the tension. "Tick tock," he murmured, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Time's running out, and my patience is wearing thin. Choose wisely, baby—it might just save your life."

A wicked grin spread across his face as he saw you open your mouth, lips parting just enough for the barrel of the gun to slide between them, the cold metal pressing against your tongue. "That’s it," he purred. "Good girl."

He pushed the gun deeper, savouring the sight of you as the taste of metal filled your mouth. "Suck," he commanded, his voice thick with lust as he watched you obey, your lips stretched around the barrel, tongue swirling over the smooth surface. His hand in your hair tightened, and he let out a low, satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that’s hot," he breathed, his hips pressing forward as he ground against you. "You’re a natural at this, aren’t you? I bet you'd look even better with your lips wrapped around something else."

He watched with rapt attention as you continued, cheeks hollowing, mouth working the gun with an obedient rhythm. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, debasing yourself at his command.

Finally, he withdrew the gun, a string of saliva briefly connecting it to your lips. "Kiss it," he growled, voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want it."

You pressed your lips against the barrel, kissing it softly, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze, exactly as he demanded. Seeing you so submissive, so compliant, sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

"Atta girl," he murmured approvingly, his voice a soft purr of pleasure.

He pulled the gun away, resting it on the side as he freed his cock from his pants, stroking it slowly, teasingly, as you knelt before him. He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with dark promise. "Put that pretty mouth to work, baby. Show me what you can do."

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your head towards his cock, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils. His other hand gripped the base of his shaft, slapping the head against your lips, leaving a smear of pre-cum.

He pushed forward, forcing the head of his cock past your lips, groaning as your warm mouth enveloped him. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking gently, pushing deeper.

He groaned as your lips stretched around his thick, veiny shaft, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. His cock was long and hard, the skin smooth and hot against your tongue. The musky, masculine taste of him filled your mouth as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked.

Saliva dripped down your chin as you bobbed your head, your hand coming up to grip the base, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. He tasted of sweat and arousal, the flavour heady and intoxicating on your tongue.

Lewd, wet sounds filled the air as you slurped and sucked, your nose buried in his pubic hair, breathing in his scent. His balls were heavy and full, bouncing against your chin as you worked him over.

"Fuck, just like that," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, his hips snapping forward, fucking your face with shallow thrusts. "Take it all, baby.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex working overtime, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you relaxed your throat, letting him slide deeper, taking him to the hilt.

He threw his head back with a groan, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as you swallowed around him, your throat fluttering around his sensitive flesh.

"Goddamn, you're a natural," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure.

The click of the safety being disengaged sent a jolt of fear through you, even as you continued to suck him off. The cold metal of the gun brushed against your cheek, a stark contrast to the heat of his cock in your mouth.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations through his shaft. "You like that, don't you, baby? The danger, the thrill. It gets you hot, doesn't it?" He pressed the gun to your temple, the barrel cold against your skin as he fucked your face harder, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper down your throat.

"Bet you're soaking wet right now," He groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he neared his peak. "Fuck, I'm close," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his cock throbbing in your mouth.

He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his cock slick with your saliva. "Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice low and guttural. "I'm not done with you."

He grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet, spinning you around and shoving you so you were bent over the wooden table. The rough wood scraped against your skin, the edge digging into your hips as he kicked your legs apart, exposing you to his gaze.

He flipped up your skirt, tearing your panties away with a sharp rip. His fingers dipped between your folds, teasing your entrance, circling your clit. 

"Fuck, look at you," he purred, his hand coming down hard on your ass, making you yelp. "Already so wet for me. Yeah, you’re not innocent at all, are you?” He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he spat directly onto your pussy, the warm liquid trickling between your folds before he licked a stripe along your slit.

He dove in, his tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your juices. He teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with rapid strokes. The hand holding the gun rested against your ass as the other held one of your thighs, exposing you completely to his hungry mouth.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, darting flicks, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He growled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. His nose rubbed your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue probing your entrance.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke your G-spot as he continued to eat you out. He added a third finger, stretching you, filling you, as his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his words muffled against your pussy. "So sweet and wet for me. I could eat this cunt all day."

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub. His fingers pumped in and out of you, the wet squelching sounds obscene in the quiet room.

His cock throbbed, rock hard and leaking pre-cum as he feasted on your pussy. The taste of you, the feel of your wetness coating his tongue, the sounds of your moans and whimpers—it all drove him wild with lust.

He fucked his fingers harder into you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit as he sucked, nibbled, licked every inch of your sopping folds.

He pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the sight of you, spread out and desperate for him.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "I could eat this pretty pussy all night long."

He trailed the gun along your inner thigh, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. "But first, I think I need to prep you a little. Get you nice and ready for me."

He teasingly ran the barrel of the gun along your folds, the cold metal sending a jolt of sensation through you. "What do you think, baby? Think you can handle this?"

You looked over your shoulder at him, stealing a glance as his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a faint nod of your head as you wanted it.

"I don't know," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Can you?"

He circled your clit with the tip of the gun, the metal cool against your heated flesh. Your hips twitched, seeking more pressure, more friction.

"Look at you, so desperate for it," he purred, his free hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap. "Even with a gun to your cunt, you're still begging for it."

“Tell me-” he says as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “Use those words.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips. His touch, his words, they were driving you crazy with need. You wanted him, all of him, and you didn't care how twisted it was.

"Please," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need it. I need you."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's more like it”

He trailed the cold metal of the gun along your slit, teasing your entrance, circling it slowly. You could feel the heat of him, the weight of his gaze on your body as he watched you squirm

He pressed the tip of the gun against your entrance, the metal cool and unyielding. Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure.

He pressed the tip of the gun inside you, the cold metal sliding in teasingly slow. You gasped, your body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation. He went deeper, inch by torturous inch, stretching you, filling you in a way you'd never experienced before.

"Fuck, look at you taking it," he groaned, his voice low and approving. "Such a good girl, so eager for me."

He worked the gun in and out, fucking you with it, the metal gliding along your walls, hitting spots you didn't know existed. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

He pushed the gun deeper, the metal sliding in with a slick sound, your wetness easing the way. You whimpered, your body trembling as he filled you, stretched you, claimed you in the most primal way possible.

He pulled it out slowly, the metal dragging along your folds, teasing your entrance, before pushing it back in.

He twisted the gun, the barrel rubbing against your sensitive walls, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

The wet, obscene sounds of the gun pumping in and out of your pussy filled the air, mixing with your moans and whimpers. He angled it just right, hitting that spot deep inside that made your toes curl, your eyes roll back in your head.

He pulled the gun out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. You whimpered at the loss, your body craving more.

"Patience, baby," he purred as he tossed the gun to the side. "We're just getting started."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

He pushed inside you slowly, inch by throbbing inch, stretching you, filling you. Your pussy clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, his heat. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he sank deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Feels so good wrapped around my cock."

He bottomed out as his massive frame engulfed you as he leaned over your back, his balls heavy and full against you as he remained deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment, letting you feel every inch.

Then he started to move, his hips rocking, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. He set a slow, deep rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt.

Your pussy fluttered around him, your walls clinging to his shaft, trying to keep him inside. He grunted with each thrust, his fingers digging into your skin with a pressure that you know will leave marks.

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. His other hand slid up your body, coming to rest at your throat. Not squeezing yet, just a gentle reminder of his control, his dominance.

"That's it, baby," he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Take it. Take my cock like the good girl you are."

He fucked you harder, faster, his grip on your throat tightening just a fraction. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips pistoning, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Gonna fill you up with my cum. Pump you full until it's leaking out of you."

His fingers tightened around your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race, your pussy clench around him. He was so close, his cock throbbing inside you, his body tensing.

His grip tightened on your throat, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse flutter beneath them. His other arm cinched around your waist, pulling you back harder, his hips slamming into you with bruising force.

"Fuck, gonna come," he grunted, his voice strained and guttural.

He pounded into you relentlessly, his cock stretching you, claiming you, branding you from the inside out. His balls slapped against your clit with each brutal thrust, the wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

His hand on your throat squeezed again, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your head swim, your vision blur. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, pushed you closer to the edge.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he fucked you harder, deeper, his cock pounding into your pussy like a jackhammer. The added stimulation was too much, sending you careening over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm.

Your pussy clamped down around him, fluttering and clenching, milking his cock for all it was worth. Your body shook and trembled, your moans echoing off the walls as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

He groaned, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering as your pussy worked him over. "Fuck, yes, come for me," he growled, his fingers pinching your clit, prolonging your climax.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. His thick cum filled you, painting your walls white, marking you as his.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pinning you to the table, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. For a moment, you both just lay there, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still joined, your hearts beating in sync.

He rolled his hips, his semi-hard cock still buried inside you, drawing out your pleasure. He pulled out slowly, a groan escaping him as your walls clung to him, trying to keep him inside.

He watched, transfixed, as his cum leaked out of your pussy, dripping down your thighs. The sight of you, so thoroughly used, so marked by him, sent a fresh wave of arousal through him.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "So fucking beautiful, covered in my cum."

He leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your spine as you lay there, trying to catch your breath. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and dips, the marks he'd left on your skin.

"You did so well, baby," he purred, his lips brushing against your ear.

He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing. “Come on, up, lemme get a look at you.”

He helped you up, his hands steady on your hips as you wobbled on shaky legs. He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your body, taking in the marks he'd left, the cum still dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his hands cupping your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "I could look at you like this all day."

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting himself on your lips. He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a question in them.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks as he helps you redress, along with himself.

"No," you breathe, your voice hoarse and trembling. "It was... intense, but not painful."

You lean into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hands on your face, the solidness of his body against yours. Despite the darkness of what just transpired, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of belonging.

“The gun-” you begin before he chuckles and interrupts you as he approaches the gun and picks it up, “Looks pretty real, huh? Feels it too.”

You laugh a little at that, “Yeah, it definitely felt it.”

“I’ll have to thank your friends for getting me such a good prop” He says, “And for arranging this whole place…You think they’re waiting outside?”

“God no, Shoko made it very clear yesterday that she wouldn’t wait around whilst I came in here to get fucked by my boyfriend. They’ll be long gone, we can call a cab.”

“Cab it is.” He smirks as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

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© getoslamb ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[dwaekkicidal]

free use with a frustrated minho <3

wc» 1k

cw» fem!reader, free use, rough sex, slightly mean dom min?, some dirty talk, p in v, multiple creampies, oral (both f and m receiving), 1 mention of shower sex, 1 mention of somno

an» take this minho hard thought that i forgot to post earlier this week as a double post bc the chan.in x reader is fucking 2k words and im still not done yet lol... ><

“This literally never happens. Why did this have to happen?? I practiced this dance for fucking HOURS.” You surprisingly miss your boyfriend's indecipherable mumbles and continue to watch your TV.

Minho walked through the front door less than 5 minutes ago and is still sporting his stage outfit and makeup. He plays the part of some sort of lunatic all too well when he’s pacing back and forth and mumbling incoherent curses to himself. And you already tried asking him what was wrong- all you got in return was ignored as he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter and began this weird manic spell.

But all of this is in the past now. You eventually came to learn that he slipped up on stage today; you learned that all that fuss was because he kept making minor blunders during the recording of their MNET performance. And although it was a recorded thing, something videoed multiple times anyways and not seen live, and he wasn’t the center during these mistakes, he was still pissed.

Minho does not make mistakes very often, so he was upset that he even made one today. But the fact that he managed multiple across the many hours they spent in that god-awful building made his blood boil. But! Luckily for him, he has this very convenient agreement with his beautiful, lovely girlfriend who just so happens to be you.

And this agreement is exactly how he stopped dead in his tracks as he came to this “revelation” an hour after he had arrived at home. It’s also how the oversized shirt of his you were wearing got lifted up to your chest. He didn’t even blink towards the food you were cooking on the stove before he shoved your panties down your legs and slid himself along your already wet folds.

“Dirty girl. Wet when I’ve not even touched you.” He landed a playful smack to your ass and gave you no time to react before he slid into your walls, stretching you out almost painfully. You were thankful that you fingered yourself just before he got home, so the stretch was more tolerable than it would have been if he went in dry.

Minho ignored your pleas of “The food!! It’s gonna burn!” and “Give me one second, babe!” Instead, he wrapped one of those veiny hands around your throat and squeezed as he started moving his hips. He started off nicely, giving you slow, deep strokes. But he quickly found a different pace, one more to his liking.

And that pace included fucking your brains out, pounding you into the cold kitchen counter. If it wasn’t for the refreshing cold of the ceramic, you think your cheek would get some sort of “rug” burn. Well… you can’t really think anything, not when his hips slam into yours so intensely that you can feel your ass stinging from each thrust.

Although he holds you in place, one hand on your head and the other on your hip, he still gives you more than enough chances to actually stop him if it’s what you want. It comes out in the form of dirty talk as he goes on about how good of a hole you’re being for him and how he should “freely use” you more often.

It’s more of a hint to the recent kink you’ve been discussing, but it doesn’t go over your head, so you nod as best as you can. And, even though he’s pissed off and needs to fuck you into every surfance he sees, he’s not mean enough to leave you high and dry. So he lets you cum right as he does.

You’re barely catching your breath after the fact before he’s pulling out and admiring your messy form; your cheek still firmly against the kitchen counter even though his hand is gone. He manages to pull out and watch his cum leak from you before another revelation hits him. One that encourages him to help you step out of your panties before pocketing them and shoving himself back into his shorts.

One that also encourages his next comments along with the pat on the ass he gives you after the words have sunk into your mushy brain. “You don’t need these anymore. Keep cooking, I’ll be back.”

But don’t worry your pretty little head about it!! He won’t be gone for very long. In fact, you’re in the middle of setting the table with dinner when his hands return to your body, folding you in half and grabbing a handful of your hair as he immediately slides himself back into your walls.

The only “reward” you get is his groans of happiness as he fucks your brains out again, making sure not to leave out the comments here and there about how, “You’re such a good fucktoy. Letting me fuck you whenever and wherever I want.”

And he’s not done there, oh nooo. He’s still fuming about those slip ups from earlier. Now, at this point can he remember exactly what mistakes he made? No. Will that stop him from using you as his personal stress reliever? Absolutely not. So you should expect to be fucked into every and any surface.

So when he disappears to clean up after dinner and you’re returned to your TV for entertainment, he’s gonna walk up nonverbal and drop to his knees. Then, your legs will be lifted from the floor and he’s gonna shove his head between your bare legs, eating you out and even fighting back when you push his head away from you in overstimulation.

Oh and when you’re showering later that night and you let your guard down for a split second to wash yourself off, he’s slipping into the shower and forcing you down to your knees. He’ll get his fill from using your mouth, his favorite fleshlight, and walk out completely soaked like nothing happened.

You may or may not be overstimulated and sensitive to touch by the time you’re laying in bed, and you’ll be lucky if that stops him from taking you one final time. You’re also lucky if he’s mad enough to let it sink into the next day. If he is, he’ll go as far as to repeat positions/situations from the previous day.

Oh but don’t be mistaken! All of that isn’t happening until after he’s waking you up with a nice, warm, homemade filling.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

I always feel pretty dumpy after getting dumped. Tonight was no different. I decided to walk the grounds one last time, and the tranquil beauty of the gardens seemed extra mean somehow. Like I was walking through something beautiful that I never even got a chance to miss. No chance to enjoy. Just rejection. Again. And the same message, though at least this time they tried to be kind about it.

Please never practice magic like that again. Bards were mages until you were too good at singing. Then things got suspicious to the headmasters. Song could be such a powerful tool and manipulate people across the field the way that death could. Put death and song together and humans always got so uncomfortable. And when it came to humans, nothing was more unlucky than a sweet death. They say the way they want to die is old and in bed surrounded by their families but...it's never true. Every single one of them secretly yearns for some kind of glory in their hearts, and it just rots and rots and rots as they age. I'd know. I'm human too. But I'm also banshee and people can just feel it. Especially those who are academically inclined. In some cultures they saw us as prophets... until they learned that the angels sing in our ears and fall out of our throats. Also people only like the idea of prophets. Tell them enough future truth and they start looking for the matches and rope. Or a crucifix.

Bewitchment. Enchantment. Manipulation. No one wants to invite a banshee to the table where everyone is sweet and happy and alive with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.

I'm an omen. It's kind of lonely. But I get it. I suppose if I were someone else I'd feel the same.

I found myself in a gazebo near the tallest of the little sculpted waterfalls in this garden. I liked the way the water sang and flowed as it poured itself over the rocks. It was summer, so there were fireflies, and I could get back to being lost in my thoughts a bit as I watched the way they all twinkled around each other. My son used to say they were all teleporting. I laughed at him, kissed the top of his head, and earmarked that for later because that might be something he ends up being keen at. My daughter used to say she had the power of the forest when she was very young, and gods if she couldn't tell you exactly what creatures were thinking when they wanted something. The more specific the better with my daughter.

I shifted, crossing my legs over each other and anchoring my elbows on the wooden railing and letting my chin fall heavily into my palms. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to catch and understand the direction and pattern to the way the wind blew tonight. The air smelled like roses and jasmine and I looked up to see the little white flowers hanging from their vines right above me. There were lanterns of golden light and everything felt smoky and indigo. A moonlit darkness that was so easy to see around but too misty to see through.

Was it the song, I wondered? I replayed the interview in my mind. I've been learning how to perform on a stage and have gotten to this point where I fall fully into the music. I don't let my mind control the song anymore, but trust my heart to attune and express it authentically. Sometimes my heart sounds drunk or bitter. Sometimes it sounds like delight and perfection. Today... I couldn't remember. I'd found that I could trick people into thinking maybe I was some sort of reformed cleric turned bard if I sang religious songs. Today I considered a shanty because those work too. But in the end I settled on a lullaby and at first everyone looked peaceful and happy but then that look came into their eyes when they realized where they were and what was going on.

Someone told me once that it was frightening to find yourself suddenly disarmed, especially if being vulnerable wasn't something you were used to being with people. I saw that happen in real time today, and suddenly understood what he meant.

Yay, more awareness.

That brought a bit of temper to my system so I stood up and walked over to the stream to sit down. The grass was wet but I didn't care. I took off my shoes and put them into the water that ran clear and cold over a stone bottom. It was deep enough to cover my ankles. I put my palms to the earth behind me, took a deep breath, and let my head fall back as I sighed it out.

I was so fucking disappointed.

But, I'd still done it. I took the chance. I learned something. All of it sucked. I'd maybe built a few sandcastles in my mind about how my life would fit into the routine that school would have brought me. I let myself sit and grieve what was never mine but still felt lost to me. I imagined the tide of this rejection crushing all the sandcastles in one giant wave. I felt my emotions rise out of my heart, making my throat sore, took another deep breath, and sighed as I let the tears release the sadness and flow down my cheeks like the current at my feet.

Fuck, I really really wanted something else to happen. I wanted the outcome I wanted. And I didn't want any other outcome. I didn't want to go to another school. I didn't want to look at other schools. I didn't want to be a bard if I couldn't go to this school. I didn't want anything.

My body shook with a little sob as my shoulders slumped back.

I didn't want anything ever again and-

Suddenly I was laughing, and I just collapsed. I laughed and cried at the same time and rolled around in the grass. If I was going to be a fucking child like this about this I was going to commit and be a child. My heart was broken a little bit and the grass was so wet and awful but it smelled so good. I closed my eyes and cursed as I realized my hair was going to be wet now that I did this and...

There was a cough and a "Ma'am?"

I froze like a rabbit. Then I closed my eyes tighter just in case this was a dream and I could escape the inevitable embarrassment of someone from the school that rejected me seeing me rolling around in the grass like an animal. The moments clicked by awkwardly and I didn't cut to the next scene, so I opened my eyes to face the music.

Security guard. Handsome. I always liked a man in uniform. Flirting was not going to help me escape embarrassment but it could make this story more interesting. As though he were reading my mind, his face darkened with an expression that read plainly don't even try it. Great, a challenge. The only thing I can't resist. His arms crossed as we both seemed to take in each other's character in this particular moment. He scowled deeper.

I sat up like a naughty child and patted at my hair, then shook it out like a dog would. He was watching closely. My head tilted to the side and I beamed angelically. "Sorry, you caught me making grass angels," I chirped merrily.

In order to be admitted to a magic school potential students only need to provide irrefutable proof that they are mages, yet, despite your very obvious abilities, you were rejected with a comment asking you to "please never practice magic again".

[sunni-stuff]

Three days had passed since Jellybean, your rescued stray, vanished. Though an outdoor enthusiast at heart, she'd never missed a meal. Now, your phone tracker beeped, signaling proximity. The crafty runt had escaped, but you were closing in. Jellybean's street-smart ways usually brought her home, yet this time felt different. As you followed the signal, hope and worry battled within.

You traveled alone as none of the townspeople were brave enough to help with your search. The mere mention of the North Woods shook them to the core, earning your request swift declines and slammed doors in your face. Whispers and rumors follow you with every interaction 

Secluded and untraceable, his cabin lies tucked away, invisible to prying eyes.

Rumors swirl of his territorial fury. Trespassers beware—this hunter stalks from afar. His domain is unforgiving, and his presence is a constant threat. The lucky ones spot the warning sign; others never see him coming.

Even the butcher, renowned for his toughness, said no, unwilling to even hear you out.

“There’s a man in the woods,” he said, voice unwavering. “You’d be smart to forget the idea.”

The boom of the door closing makes you flinch, jumping back a bit. A man in the woods? Surely not.

Even more absurd than some creep in the woods was the thought that the big, bad butcher was scared of him. This was a man who walked you home at night, who sneered at men and pulled you close to his side when you became uncomfortable. You knew him for a long time and you’d never seen him so much as flinch, but suddenly he was all squinted eyes and hushed tones at the thought of even stepping a foot off the beaten path. It couldn't be true, right?

Well, there was only one way to prove him wrong, and it was the only way you were gonna get Jellybean back. You’re going in that forest, urban myth or not.

Shadows lengthen as you exit your truck. The door closes with a hollow thud. The townsfolk's warnings replay in your mind, urging caution. You scan the area, heart racing. Drooping leaves cast an ominous veil over the forest. The murky depths seem to whisper, both alluring and forbidding.

Anxiety grips you as you take a step further. "Bean?" You whisper, voice trembling.

Silence answers. Twigs crack underfoot, and each snap creates an ominous echo. You cringe, the sounds amplifying your unease. Yet you press on, searching the quiet forest.

Minutes stretch like hours as you quietly call Bean's name, doing your best not to attract any unwanted attention, as the woods loom, hiding unknown dangers. Glancing down, your phone shows her location, unchanged, since she first wandered off. Jellybean's absence at this late hour is unsettling. She never stayed out of the house this long, and not so still, either. You can't help but think the worst, deciding to hurry closer to her, praying to find her safe.

Venturing deeper, the terrain grew wilder. Massive leaves parted, revealing fallen trunks and tilted trees. The more you looked around, the more it became clear that the uncharted wilderness wasn't made for humans.

There was no possible way.

The forest gave little leeway to those travelings through its domain. Predators strayed barely out of sight, lurking in hopes you'd be their next meal. A howl in the distance has you on edge, skin crawling, the feeling of being watched running anxious edges.

"Just keep walking. It'll be okay. The tracker says she's near." You reassured yourself under quite murmurs, trying to will your heart calm.

Then it appeared without warning.

A wolf lurches from the woodland gloom, baring his jagged canines, poised and ready to pounce. He circles you in a slow, menacing loop, foam pooling from his parted jaws. His eyes blaze with a frenzied gleam, wild and driven by something beyond hunger. Some dark, unseen force propels him, and you feel it tightening around you.

You turn and run.

Run as fast as your legs can carry you, tearing through the thick underbrush. Foliage slaps your arms and face, and the weeds clutch at your ankles like skeletal fingers desperate to drag you down. You ignore the stinging scratches, the pounding in your chest. If you fall, if you falter for even a second—you know it’s over.

Run.

The untamed beast snaps its jaws inches behind you, hot breath searing your calves, each bite narrowly missing as he hounds you with ruthless, single-minded determination. You crash through a thicket, branches clawing at your arms, tearing through your clothes, until you stumble onto a barely visible trail where weak shafts of light seep through gaps in the trees.

There’s no time to think. No time to process the sting of cuts or the burn in your lungs, nothing beyond the raw, primal instinct to get the hell away from the rabid creature on your heels.

Then you see it.

A cabin.

Really, a dilapidated shack, its sagging roof overrun with twisting vines, looms before you, barely held together by rotting beams and splintered boards. The whole structure looks one hard gust away from collapse, yet it’s the only shelter in sight. You don’t hesitate, heart hammering in your chest, and charge toward the door.

In your frantic rush, you miss the glint of watching eyes, shining like dark coals from the shadows behind, tracking your every move.

You burst inside, slamming the door shut with a desperate shove, then lean your back against it. Your chest heaves, each ragged breath scraping your lungs as you struggle to catch your breath, the weight of dread pressing down on you even harder than the beast’s pursuit.

The aroma of simmering soup wafted through the air, warmth enveloping you. A cozy scene unfolded: a bubbling pot atop a wooden stove, a modest desk tucked away, and a solitary lantern casting a soft glow. The space exuded an unexpected warmth, soft light pooling over worn furniture and the faint scent of old wood calming your frayed nerves. Your pulse slowed as the familiar coziness settled around you. Then, a gentle brush against your leg pulled you from the haze of adrenaline.

You glanced down—and there she was. Jellybean, her eyes wide and radiant, a few telltale crumbs clinging to her brown fur from some long-forgotten snack.

A rush of tenderness overtook the fading remnants of panic. You reached down, catching the elusive little troublemaker as she gave an indignant squirm. “You little—” The half-hearted scold fizzled, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming need to hold her close. “How—How did you end up here, huh?”

Holding Jellybean close, you feel the weight of your situation settling over you—a stranger in a cabin far from familiar ground, with the last of the sunlight slipping away, trapping you inside until dawn. Outside was darkness thick and impenetrable, the forest itself a living maze you dared not attempt at night.

“Shit,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly might stir something in the shadows.

Slowly, you move deeper into the space, eyes sweeping over the bare walls and spartan furniture. There’s something unnervingly sterile about the place—no photos, no knickknacks. Not a trace of personality or life. Who would live here? The rumors of some reclusive figure haunting these woods flash through your mind.

No. You shake your head, brushing off the thought. This was probably just some hunter’s shack. Or a place someone from town stayed now and then, just a shelter, nothing more.

Your foot presses down on a loose floorboard, and a loud creak echoes through the stillness. You freeze, heartbeat stuttering. Jellybean’s ears twitch, but she remains calm. Before you can step back, a low groan seeps from somewhere within the cabin, rolling through the floorboards, shivering up your spine.

Your grip tightens on Jellybean, and you hold your breath, listening.

“I-Is anyone there…?” Your voice barely steady. The words hover in the silence, as though the shadows themselves are holding their breath, waiting.

Then, clear as day, you hear it.

“Help… me…”

The voice is thin and broken, barely more than a whisper. Instinct screams at you to ignore it, to sit tight until morning. But something tugs at you. The sound is weak, desperate—human. The cabin feels suddenly smaller, its walls pressing in, urging you to run.

“Please… someone help me…"

A shiver races down your spine. Curse your altruism. You clutch Jellybean tighter, swallowing back the fear rising in your throat.

“U-uh, where…?” The question slips out before you can think, shaky and uncertain.

Silence stretches taut, pressing against your ears. Then, faint and low, a whining sound rises from beneath the floorboards, almost like a wounded animal. Every instinct screams at you to turn back, to stay safe. But you find yourself edging closer to the noise, heart hammering against your ribs.

Your gaze lands on a small, almost-hidden door near the far wall—the entrance to a cellar.

The pleas are louder here, wavering but persistent, each whisper curling up from the depths. “Help… please…”

You should walk away. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. But, against every sliver of common sense, your hand reaches out, fingers trembling as they brush over the handle.

It turns with a rusty groan, and you pull the door open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into shadow. At the bottom, you catch the flicker of ember light, glowing faintly as if from a dying fire.

The cellar stretches out before you, a vast, dimly lit space far larger than should exist beneath such a modest shack. Shadows cling to the walls, the only light casting a faint, sickly orange glow that barely cuts through the murk. You step cautiously, heart-pounding, but then you glance to your right—and freeze.

The scene hits you with a nauseating force. Men hang suspended from thick meat hooks, bodies bruised and broken, some barely clinging to life, others unmoving, their faces blank and eyes empty. Their battered forms twist slightly in the air, like grotesque puppets left to dangle and rot. You swallow hard, stomach twisting as bile rises in your throat.

But then the horror deepens—recognition dawns. One face after another, familiar, each one seared into memory. The delivery driver who refused to take no for an answer, the lawyer from the pub whose relentless advances wore you down, the pizza guy who loitered outside your job, watching, waiting. All here. Hung like slabs of meat in this nightmarish cellar.

Your mind spins, the details piecing together in a sickening realization. The butcher. He’d warned them off, told you they wouldn’t bother you anymore. But this? This was something beyond any threat, beyond any punishment you’d ever imagined.

How? How had they ended up here? How did any of this exist beneath an unassuming cabin in the middle of the woods?

You weren’t supposed to see this. This was something that should have remained buried, hidden in the depths where secrets go to rot. The enormity of it presses down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

But then, one of them stirs. The pizza guy, his head lolling weakly to the side, lifts his face. His eyes, clouded and bloodshot, light up with recognition—a desperate spark of life in his hollow gaze. “Help! Please, before he comes back!” he rasps, voice cracking.

He.

The word rings in your mind, cold and jagged. He? Who could do this? Who would do this?

Your voice trembles as the question slips out, a thin whisper in the oppressive silence. “W—who… who are you talking about?”

The cellar door slams shut behind you, the echo reverberating off the cold stone walls, trapping you in the silence that follows. Heavy, methodical footsteps descend the rotting stairs, each step creaking beneath his weight. His breathing is deep, ragged, each inhale and exhale marking his slow, purposeful approach.

Don’t turn around.

Your body locks up, instinct screaming to flee, but your legs refuse to move. You clutch Jellybean tightly to your chest, but suddenly, she squirms, thrashing in your arms in a way she never has before. Confusion twists through your terror—Jellybean has always clung to you, never trying to escape. What was she doing?

With a leap, she slips from your grasp, landing soundlessly on the floor. She pads past you, moving behind you, and the silence is filled with soft, delighted purring.

You don’t want to look. You hold still, desperately hoping that if you don’t move, you’ll disappear, fade into the shadows. But you can feel him standing just behind you, the weight of his presence pressing down like a storm cloud.

And then, a voice. Familiar. Deep, smooth, and thick with a British lilt, edged with something that both chills and soothes you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a note of affection clear in his tone as he addresses Jellybean.

Recognition strikes you like a blow. That voice—you’ve heard it a thousand times. The same voice that always offered a warm “good evening” when he walked you home at night. The same voice that laughed as he handed Jellybean her treats at the butcher shop. The same voice that warned you, with a peculiar intensity, to avoid these woods.

The butcher.

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A/N: I don't usually do long writing stuff... but I've had this one in the drafts for too long and wanted it out. I kind of like how it turned out but I can def improve!