#it went from being hot and summer in the beginning to now its cold and snowing
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buddyhollyscurls · 2 years ago
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I'm so dumb how am i just now,,,,,, 78 percent into the book,,,,,, realizing that the year has passed in Winesburg
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barcalover86 · 1 year ago
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The unheard story.
A never-ending friendship.
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Chapter One
"Sweet 18, love!" your mom smiled at you seeing the clock hitting midnight.
"Thank you."
You went to hug your parents and little sister tight, feeling more emotional than you would have wanted to.
You couldn't lie, you were scared.. really scared to turn this age. It wasn't much different than 5 minutes ago when you were still 17, but it felt like right now it was more pressure on your shoulders.
You weren't a kid anymore.
You are now an adult who has to manage things on her own and be able to overcome any challenge life will subject you to.
You were an independent girl even since you were little, so having to do things alone wasn't a big problem for you. It's just the pressure to disappoint your family that affects you badly.
On the other side, turning 18 had its goods.
Tomorrow you'll travel with your best friend, Bia, to your most beloved city. Barcelona.
Since you were kids, you two were big fans of football, going to every game you could attend to. Of course, it wasn't the same to be on a small stadion like the one from your town, or to be on Camp Nou.
You could imagine how much of a big difference it would be.
And you couldn't be more excited that now you will be able to make a dream come true. Just like you and Bia planed for years.
Travelling to Barcelona.. just the two of you.
..................................................................................
You absolutely hated to wake up early in the morning, especially when last night you didn't have a great sleep.
All kinds of nerves were starting to be fueled in your body because of how nervous you were.
But before you entered the plane, you promised yourself that this journey would have to be memorable.
"Are you ready to begin a new chapter, birthday girl?" Bia asked you with the biggest smile on her face.
"I think I am." you replied, taking her hand in yours.
Now.. let's be for real. Summer in Barcelona doesn't sound that bad. Right?
..................................................................................
The day you arrived in Spain was a really hot one, so you couldn't do much, but to stay inside your hotel room until the night will come.
Now come one, you expected to have a hot summer in Barcelona, but you didn't imagine that 45° C were even possible.
And of course, you didn't check the weather before. You always forget to do that.
You were chatting in your hotel room until you started to be hungry. You couldn't eat in the building, because you decided to book something that had no lunch, so that you could enjoy your visiting more, but now all you could do was go outside to grab something, because you were starving.
After minutes of choosing an outfit, you and Bia arrived into the new world.
A lot of people were walking outside like the weather was perfect, and you were so shocked by that. They must really hate cold, then.
After walking for some minutes, you decided to go to a terrace to eat a pizza.
"So, it's still available that tomorrow we go watch the game?" Bia asked you, and you instantly nodded.
"Where do you want to book the tickets? Sector A, or no. I've heard that many people recommend Sector H."
"Bia.. what about we go to the VIP Section?"
"What? Do you know how expansive it is? 1200-1300 euros per person! We will go outside of our budget, y/n!"
You look down.
"Look, it's our first game at Camp Nou. Let's make it special. Money come and go, but experiencing a Barca game for the first time right at the vip section is unforgettable. We'll manage to get the money back, but please, Bia.."
She thinks for a second, before she agrees.
"Ok, maybe you're right."
"Thank you!!" you hugged her, being really excited. "You won't regret it."
..................................................................................
The day has come, and even if there were 7 more hours until the game begins, you two started to get ready.
Taking a shower, doing your hair and makeup, and, of course, choosing the best outfit.
You didn't have an original Barca jersey, but when you were 15, your best friend made two white hoodies with a big Barca sign on its left.
Maybe it was cheap, but you loved it!
So, as an outfit, you chose the hoodie, with nothing underneath because it was really hot outside, and some black jeans.
As shoose, your favourite white nikes.
With a simple makeup and your natural straight hair, you were ready to attempt the game.
"I'm so excited, you have no idea."
"Me too, I can't believe that- wait."
She looks at you confused.
"What?"
"If we're standing at the vip section, it means that cameras will also be on us."
"Oh. We'll be famous then!" Bia laughs.
..................................................................................
Everyone was pushing everyone, and it was really hard to walk through the crowd, so you had to take your best friend's hand so you could stay together.
As a vip culer, you could enter camp nou more easily, but of course, you had to take a lot of pictures, especially since the sunset was luminating your faces so well. You were truly beautiful.
When you stepped into the stadium.. man.. it was more beautiful than you ever dreamed of.
"Bia, we have to take a lot of photos!!!! It's so pretty out here!"
Your best friend was out of words. Finally, you got to see Barca play live together. It was all you ever wished for.
You were so happy that you started to jump around and to sing the anthem, without realising that the players were coming to warm up already.
All of them looked at how happy you were, and even some of them chuckled at your excitement.
"We have to enjoy our time here, y/n. Who knows when we'll be here again."
You started to laugh hard at how silly you two were acting.
"Look, that's Fermin!!!! Sexy boy!"
"Shhh, someone might hear you, Bia!!"
"Who cares??"
"Me?? You're embarrassing ourselves!" you started to laugh again.
"Look, y/n!! Your boy, Gavi." she said like she didn't listen to me at all.
"Where?"
"Right next to Lewandowski, at his right. He has the ball on his head."
You look carefully, searching for the footballers, and when you see Pablo Gavi, you immediately blush.
"Look who's got all red." she started to tease you, which she loved to do so.
When the players went off the field, you looked at Gavi to see that he was having some nerves.
When they came back 5 minutes later, you shouted loudly, "Good luck, boys. I know you can do it!"
Every player looked up to see you, and they all smiled at you and some of them like Balde and Araujo, even waved at you.
But your eyes were only fixed on Gavi's. And not to be delusional, but you kinda saw that he smiled at you.
The game versus Mallorca began and you all sat down to watch the boys play.
The atmosphere was purely amazing, and you felt like you belonged there. People cheering on Barca affected your mood a lot, and you started to feel much better and alive.
At first, you thought that Mallorca wasn't a big 'enemy' for Barcelona, but the game was so intense that you just couldn't get bored.
A lot of yellow cards were given to players from both teams, and even a player from Mallorca got a red one.
It was minute 90+3 when Cancelo scored the winning goal, and everyone was standing up, shouting happily.
"No way, I love you, Cancelo!!! My boyyy!" Bia started to laugh hard.
Oh, how happy everyone was.
In the end, the anthem began again, and now you started to sing like it was no tomorrow.
The players came close to you to sign people's jearsies and to take as well some photos for the fans.
"C'mon, let's go, y/n. I want a picture with Fermin too."
You laughed, but inside, you felt really nervous.
When Lewandowski came to you two, he smiled and took a picture.
"Thank you so much. Congratulations on the win." Bia said.
"Thank you for being here, culers. Do you want me to sign something for you? A jersey?"
"We don't have a jersey, but thank you." Bia also replied, because you were really shy now.
Lewa took his off and gave it to your best friend, which she happily accepted, before he asked for Gavi.
"Gavi, come here quick."
After signing some last shirts, the boy came to where you were standing, confused.
"Do you want a photo? Let me finish there first and I'll come, ok?"
"No, no, Gavi. Can you please give this girl your jersey. She doesn't have one, and I already gifted mine."
He looks at you and smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Y/n."
"Ok, y/n. I remember you from the beginning of the game when you wished us good luck, so I hope this will also bring you luck." he said before taking his jersey off to give it to you.
You couldn't not stare at his beautiful body, and he saw that, asking you if you wanna take a photo together.
After you three took it, he signed his jersey, before freezing.
"Oh, wait. You'll have to wash it because it's all sweaty so I can't sign it for you. I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's ok."
"No, no. The next game will be on Wednesday. Wash it, and we'll meet here so that I can sign it for you. I'm suspended because of my yellow card today, so I will be just here. Is it ok for you?" he asked.
"Yes, it's ok." you replied too quick and he went back to sign some other shirts.
"Y/n!! Look, I'm really happy that you got his jersey, but we don't have the money to come here next game too!"
Bia was really frustrated, and you understood her. But it was your chance to talk again with Gavi.
"I know, Bia, but please! Just this time, and then we'll get the cheapest tickets after."
"Y/n, with this vip ticket we already spend the money for 1 week!"
"I am capable of no eating for 4 days.. please.."
She takes a second before she replies.
"Just because I love you."
You smile and hug her.
"Thank you so much, Bia. It means the world to me!"
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barbiecrocs · 1 year ago
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Handle or Handled
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Nanami Kento
tags! brief choking, piv, a mean Nanami, slutty reader, brief mention of masturbation, car sex, degradation (use of slut), orgasm denial, mention of food kink (kinda)
WC. 1651
Barbie's note... Yall, I was kinda lazy with this one, but that don't mean its bad. I like it so that says smth yk. Anyway have fun yall!! kiss kiss
You have no idea what you do to him. Turning on his sadistic switch when you step out of the house in nothing, but a two-piece lingerie set with a sheer cover-up just to water your plants and collect the mail. Your slutty and unassuming look is what makes him want to break you so badly. Did you have no acknowledgment of the corrupt people in the world? The people like him who want to break that pretty face into bits and then make you clean it up naked on your hands and knees. But hey, he wasn’t exactly the nicest guy so why would it matter to him? 
 You prance around in summer wear all year long. Tiny shorts in the winter, then swimsuits in the summer. Did you never get cold? He had to do a double-take when he looked across the street and saw you washing cars for unneeded money. He was sure you just wanted the attention and he was willing to give it to you, pulling up a chair on his balcony with a nice cold beer and taking in the view. Shirt see-through, jean cut-offs up your ass, and these plastic platform sandals that went clickety-clackety up his porch stairs when you came around to bring him cookies. He never ate them, the only thing he ever did was jerk off to them, his grown imagination running wild in hopes that he could just simply bring the cum-clad cookies back over to you and watch you gulp them down with seconds in mind. Seconds that he would gladly serve to you hot and ready.
 Just then the doorbell rang and the suddenness almost made him cum in his pants. He had been holding it back for a while, telling himself that he wouldn't tend to that type of thing right now. If only he knew what the day held for him. 
 He frantically looked around his living room before finding an apron that lay across his sofa. He swung the door open only to find no one, then directed his eyeline a bit lower. You, in a black tank top, jean mini skirt, and your signature black Chuck Taylors, panting as if you were coming down from a high. Your hand rests next to his head on the door frame, your other hand on your hip, and your body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. "Thank god you answered. I desperately need your help. I would've asked the other neighbors, but they either don't like me or are too old. Plus, I think you're the fittest guy here." You stared at him for a second until you realized you hadn't told him what you needed help with. "Oh, right. I kinda need you to help me push start my car." You give him a sheepish smile, that drops when he wipes his forehead in what you assume is frustration and annoyance but is actually him trying to hide a very mischievous and impish grin. "I'm sorry. It's wrong of me to bother my neighbors with my problems. Please forgive me." You begin to turn away for a graceful exit before he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's fine. I can do it." You quietly cheer as you lead him to your car which was only at the beginning of the block. 
  You hand him a pair of rubber gloves and before you can say a word, he rolls up his sleeves and gets to pushing. A gasp drops out of your mouth from seeing the muscly arms you dreamed about. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as you rode him on your couch. Or him putting you into a choke hold while fucking you from behind and degrading you. You nearly drooled then snapped yourself out of your daydream for being so silly.
 You realize that he was already more than halfway to your house and you get in the car to direct it all the way.
 "Wow Mr. Nanami, you've got big muscles." You yell, driving into your driveway. "Want to touch them?" He flexes, his playfulness catching you off guard. You never suspected him to return your energy or anything of the sort so you lay it on even thicker, trying to see how far you could take it. "Don't think I won't." You both smirk as he puts a hand on the top of your car. "You don't know what you would be getting yourself into if you took that next step." You pull him closer by the pocket of his apron, "I'm a big girl. I think I can handle myself, hop in."
 It's all a haze of bottoms coming off until he's in between your legs with the bottom half of his face soaked from your teased cunt. He had been denying you of your orgasm for the longest, trying to make this encounter last for hours to get you to crumble in his hands. Even five minutes would be enough, but he wants to drag everything out of you for as long as he can. "Nanami..." You groan, taking a while to finish your sentence since you lost your train of thought in the last wave of pleasure. 
 “Please let me cum!” Breaths of air continuously push out your mouth as you grip any and everything closest to you with your eyes shut tight. He shakes his head between your legs, but it goes unnoticed so he nips at your inner thigh, “Look at me, slut.” A gasp leaves your mouth at the drop of his pet name and you lock eyes with him immediately. “That got your attention, huh?” You nod slowly, scared that if you take too much attention away from holding your orgasm, you’ll explode. You almost can’t hold it in even while crossing your legs, "Nanami please, fuck! Let me cum!" Your gaze into his eyes deepens, but he still shakes his head, “I want you to work for it.”
 You look back at him from your position on his lap with an unsure and teary expression, only to see him checking out the view of your ass. He scoots the front seat up to tip you forward and catch a glimpse of your wet pussy from behind. "Well, what are you waiting for? Put it in yourself." Your tears are painfully close to spilling out of your eyes. "But Nanami, this position is kinda embarrassing-" You cut yourself off when he spanks your ass, "Did I ask for your input? If it wasn't a question, then I expect you to follow my orders to the T. Embarrassment should be the last thing on your mind when you flaunt around in tiny skirts and tight shirts all year long." Your eyebrows raise vividly and a dopey smile etches onto your face, “So you noticed? Glad to see that my efforts haven’t been overlooked.” A deep and unholy-sounding chuckle erupts from his throat and heads straight to your cunt which now has its own heartbeat. “God, you’re such a fucking attention whore.” He begins to line himself up with your entrance since you stalled on the idea.
 "Nanami, you're so mean." You pout, completely oblivious to his current actions. "I know. You can handle it though." He slams himself into you and you cum instantly with a roar of his name. Your core goes tight, heat rushes over your body, and your legs spazz while your toes bend and flex themselves to take away from your built-up orgasm. The look that Nanami gives you is a mix of disappointment and dissatisfaction and his hand slides up to your neck, “Didn’t I tell you to hold it?” You nod and the hand on your throat makes its presence known with a firm squeeze. ”Fuck. Did you just get tighter?” You hadn’t even noticed it, but another orgasm was starting to build and just as your body was starting to relax into him, you started moving again. The thought of another world-shattering orgasm being around the corner was enough encouragement for you to get moving unlike before. You catch Nanami by surprise with your sudden enthusiasm, but he easily picks up his sadistic and impish demeanor again. Asserting dominance and supremacy by grabbing you by the hips when he feels you tighten even more and working you down onto him faster. Bumpy moans of his name drag out of your mouth as you get worked closer to your release. You open your mouth to beg, but before the words can come out he grants you permission to cum. Heat spreads over your body once more and your fingers dig into the back of your driver seat almost to the point of tearing through the leather. You would’ve screamed his name if not the tightening grip on your neck as he cums with you.
 You both decompress and his hands uncuff your throat and hips. Your hand comes up to your neck and you can’t help but wonder if he left a beautiful bruise for you to wake up to. He sees your caressing and takes it as concern, “Come on, I’ll take you inside and get you cleaned up.” You almost accept his offer and start to gather your clothes until you realize that you still have more juice left in you and wouldn’t mind going for another round. You get back onto his lap and start to grind down on him which instantly provokes a boner. “Oh? Done so soon?” He smirks “Don’t tell me that you’re older than you seem, old man.” Just in that sentence, you unlocked another side of him, apparently, he doesn’t like being called an old man. “You’re making it very hard to be nice.” You show a small smirk and turn around on his lap to where you are facing him, “That’s fine. I can handle it, remember?”
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lovelykil · 2 years ago
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「 Summer cuddles 」
kyle x reader older ver.
cw; slight nsfw
As I squirmed around in the bed I grumbled, the irritating heat was overwhelming me causing me to get no sleep whatsoever. It wasn't helping with someone clinging onto my side.
My head turned to the side, Kyle was sound asleep his arm tucked with mine with his face near my neck his thick hair really made me want to throw him off the bed and sleep on my own. His hair was picking at my face just causing more heat to my sweaty body.
My head went back to its usual spot, I looked up at the ceiling watching the fan turn slowly, giving me absolutely no source of conditioning.
My hands curled into a frustrated fist, my eyes closed as I took a deep annoyed breath then let out slowly. I nudged my arm slightly to get away from his grip on me I tried to be patient and slow while I did it but honestly I just wanted to rip my arm away from him and lay face first on the cold floor..
Then I realized, I had carpet.
"Fuck my life." I muttered underneath my breath, pulling my arm away from Kyle. I saw him shift his eyebrows curved a bit he seemed disturbed.
I sighed, turning my body away to sit up on the edge of the bed. I looked down at my carpet, shaming it like it had feelings.
"Stupid carpet." I flipped it off from above. I set my hand down and stared at it more, I felt my body begin to rise in heat.
You know that feeling where it's so hot you feel as you were going to literally loose it and explode?
Basically me.
I was only in shorts and a noddle strap shirt now that shirt was just to much for me to handle. In a rush I slipped off the black clothing tossing it to the other side of the room.
I was now in a bra and shorts
Great.
Hope my parents don't randomly come in and assume the worse.
"Mmh Y/n? Did you leave..?" A weary voice muttered from behind me, sheets began to move, so did the bed. I didn't reply, still looking at the grey carpet hoping not to explode due to the heat.
"Oh, there you are." I felt a pair of cold hands soon embrace me from behind, suddenly the overwhelming feeling went away I felt so cool.
Which was weird I was just complaining about how hot I was when we were or he was cuddling me. I nearly gasped from that cold touch.
"Oh fuck.." I moaned slightly, closing my eyes being relieved.
Kyle let go of my waist quickly, his face redden in a panic.
It seemed like that really woke up him up for a second.
"Huh?? Why'd you move your hands away?"
"Did you just moan?"
I turned around to face him in confusion it took me a second to realize what I did.
"I did? O-oh.. it's hot and your hands were cool sorry." I let out a slight awkward chuckle, explaining. Kyle scotted closer to me again.
"Oh okay.. weirdo." He muttered in a tired laugh. I rolled my eyes, tugging on his hands.
"Can you put your hands around me again, please it's fucking hot."
"Really? It's kinda cold." The ginger disagreed, snaking his cold pale hands around my exposed skin once more. I leaned myself back on him for relaxation, letting out a content sigh.
I heard him snicker from above, his grip around me tightening as he motioned down to my neck.
"Are you cool now sweetheart?" Kyle whispered in his deep fatigued voice. It sent a shiver down my spine causing me to crack a nervous smile.
I rubbed his hands on my body, clearing my throat. "Y-Yeah just one thing."
"What is it?"
"I need you to stuff your hands in my bra."
"..."
"Please they are like the main source of why I'm literally melting right no- o-oh crap-!"
A gasp of air filled my lungs when his hands came in contact with them, catching me off guard.
"Eager much??" I joked, to stop myself from that horny panic I got.
"Mmh." His hands moved around in a slow motion, they were so cold it almost felt like heaven. I held a hand to my mouth to keep myself from making any loud noises, I really didn't want to wake anyone up.
"You're enjoying this way too much aren't you?" He mumbled, with a teasing smirk.
"I didn't even ask you to move, I think you're enjoying this more than me." I bit back, my hand setting itself down. A low breathless whimper escaped from my lips shortly after when he messed with my nipple.
"I'd assume you'd want me to move anyway." He gently blew cool air on my neck, playfully smiling to himself.
I hated how right he was but I couldn't help but fall into his cold touch, it felt so good.
"I feel so much better now."
"You do? That's good. Should I stop?" Kyle asked, beginning to pull his hands away from my breast. I quickly grabbed back his hands to put them back where he had them.
"nono- keep touching me, please." I pleaded quickly.
"O-Oh." Kyle blushed, blood rushing to his face and.. to his dick. I felt something poke me from below.
I heard him curse under his breath from his action, that's when I giggled with a grin feeling my body tingle.
"Wanna play a game, Ky? It's the quiet game."
"It's a crazy coincidence I get hard and you wanna say that."
"What are the odds??" I rested my hands on his.
I heard him sigh, he inched toward my neck to suck at my skin I bit down on my lip hoping to not make any noise.
Once he was satisfied with the wait he pulled away with a pop.
"You're on love."
"Great! you're soo going to loose."
"We'll see."
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ash-and-books · 9 months ago
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Rating: 2/5
Book Blurb: These childhood best friends swore they’d never speak again. But a surprise summer reunion changes everything when it gives them the chance to turn up the heat. Effie Olsen thought she’d never live on the tiny Maine island where she grew up, but she’s returning from sixteen years as a professional chef in far-flung countries for one summer and one summer only. Her hometown boasts one of the best restaurants in the US, and lucky for her, Brown Butter needs a sous chef. Effie's eager for a chance at redemption after her last job went up in flames, but reluctant to set down roots in a place that reminds her of the ghosts of her past.
Until, that is, she runs into Ernie Callahan, her onetime best friend who now works in the very same restaurant. Early morning swims and late-night games of truth or dare with Ernie remind her of what she’s been missing while traveling the world. He knows her better than anyone, and it doesn’t hurt that his smile lights her up brighter than the lighthouses dotting the craggy coastline.
But their restaurant has a secret that’s bursting at the seams, and if Effie doesn’t keep it, her job will vanish into the foggy Maine air. As summer draws to a close, her dream job and the perfect guy are both within reach. Her salty seaside hometown might be the key to Effie’s sweet ending...if she can learn to let her heart lead the way in time.
Review:
Childhood best friends who broke up are reunited years later when they both end up working at the same restaurant... and old and new feelings begin to grow, can they get their second chance at romance or was it over before it even began. Effie Olsen has always wanted to get out of her tiny Maine island, but after being fired from her job as a professional chef of 16 years, she's going back home to spend the one summer in Maine to get her life back together. Effie swears its only going to be for the summer and she's out again but then she runs into Ernie Callahan. Ernie was her best friend who swore never to talk to her again after their college graduation where he told her he loved her and she ran away. Turns out, Ernie and Effie will be working in the same restaurant together and now have to get to know each other as they've changed since the last 16 years they last saw each other. To Effie's amazement she finds herself falling for Ernie... but her heart still wants her to not settle in Maine and Ernie is determined to stay there. Can Effie and Ernie work out their new feelings for each other as well as the fact that Effie is determined to leave after the summer? This just didn't feel like it worked all that well for me, I love a second chance between friends to lovers but honestly Effie got on my nerves so much. I was surprised that Ernie even gave her so many chances after everything, she was constantly hot and cold and changing her mind. The whiplash this woman gave this poor man. I honestly didn't care all that much for the romance between them. By the end of the book I was just happy to have finished it. The other big thing about this book was the restaurant drama and Effie trying to find her place in the restaurant world after not being able to handle the stress of her previous job. Overall, it just felt like a miss to me, yet I think this would be good for anyone who enjoys a second chance romance or a friends to lovers romance.
*Thanks Netgalley and Berkley Publishing Group | Berkley for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*
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bugcolllection · 1 year ago
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When fall tumbled towards me, blowing at my cheeks and crisping my nose until the skin blossomed with a reddened hue, the air sucked through my lungs stiff and frozen, painted with the dying summer's last breath; I caught it between my teeth and crunched down on it as if it were a hardened candied apple.
The cold has a funny way of bringing itself to me, for I found it in all its manners so different by its contexts. I imagined the bone-cold chill that bloomed in air-conditioned hotel lobbies, safe oasis from the blistering vacation heat of asphalt-melting Phoenix weather. I imagined the endless shivers rippling from my insides when the dead of winter, silent as an evening in a slaughterhouse, slithered its way through my body as glittering, crystal confetti snow danced into piles of mountainous white. I imagined spring's slow, sleepy arousal at the tips of the Idaho month's March, when pale, limp patches of grass would be released from the weight of insurmountable, dirtied snow banks, flattened and morose; sections of winter's refusal to melt still hiding, tucked away under laborious, spindly arms of the green spiked Pine.
I went as far as to imagine classrooms, fingers tightened by a blowing, continuous, uninterrupted cascade of air that swirled around each student. The times I languidly, almost in a terrible, depressed trance, dragged myself to sad little public school bathrooms to run my hands under hot water, hoping to bring life back to my flesh, sensation back into every groove of my skin. I imagined mornings, where the sun would whisper lies through half lidded cream blinds, scattering a fuzzy, orange-tinted glow in excited rectangles on my grainy bedroom carpet, the teethy chill nipping at my knuckles with every attempt to begin the day, when the warmth of my sheets, my body, my sleep, yanked me desperately, an attempt to trap me in an Eden of unconsciousness and giddy, gleeful, perhaps delirious, dream-state. I imagined the still warm chatter of a cranky car, attempting with all its might to sap away the almost liquid feeling fever of black upholstery eating up the sun's incessant gaze, weakly smoothing over passionately sweating palms, arms, and thighs.
Yet, even still, now, the existence of an almost sweet, fond autumn season didn't dissuade me from being outside, letting this cold curl up around me, find a home under my coat and in my stomach. It tasted of warmth, strangely, a peculiar sentiment that contradicted itself, though only in language, for language fails it, and experience defines it. It tasted of pumpkin, smelled of cinnamon, felt on my flesh as scratchy, childish Halloween costumes. It stuck to my teeth and tongue like cheap caramel, it glued my hair back with purple, orange, and black shimmering glitter, it coated my fingers in vampiric white paste. It sounded like rattling plastic skeletons shaking on front door faces, sounded like children giggling in the dark after a triumphant conquest of door-to-door Trick-Or-Treating. It was a month, a time, an extended season of joy, life, self, change, and beginning. All these concepts which seemed to twirl down alongside the bright, bizarre flutterings of changing tree leaves.
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opheliaschamber · 2 years ago
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"For every trial and sorrow that God makes us shoulder, He has a reason." ~Khaled Hosseini.
A year has surpassed, since my anxiety disorder.
But even now, as the sun sways on the clouds at evenings, I can feel the remnants of the disorder. The anxiety penetrating deep within the edges of my belly, and the waves of the new-found atheism.
My disbelief in my God, Madhav.
I went to a couple of people for my anxiety. From the pathologist, to the school teachers, to the school counsellor, to friends, and lastly, to my aunt.
"Do yoga. Go meditate, it's good for anxiety,"
"You worry alot, and you overthink stuff. Why do you want to add more?"
"Itna tension nahi leneka. Be happy."
Imagine you're walking in a tunnel with a herd of people walking like sheeps. You're screaming; full throated cries. Yet, nobody in the tunnel can hear you. Yes, it feels exactly like that.
When the anxiety started, at cold dusks,
I would be on the brink of death.
Thoughts would nuzzle around my mind, like a snake caging its prey with its tail.
My hands would tremble and my breathing would occur with labour.
The fear, the stress, would slowly creep down to the belly of my abdomen and I could do nothing.
I had foreseen a panic attack.
I saw it coming.
Gently, it walked towards me in March.
One flaming hot summer noon,
In a caged toilet, with warm wind gushing through the windows, the attack began.
I remember traces; I was banging on the locked toilet door, with palms turned into fists, and I could not speak.
Words wouldn't fumble out of my mouth and I would helplessly bang on the oak door.
When I was released out of the toilet, the attack raced with a deadly speed.
My cheekbones, my lips, and my mouth went entirely numb. I can remember the tears flowing out of my eyes, and being incapable in providing life to my numb mouth.
"WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE ALL OF THIS? OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHO COULD SUFFER, WHY ME? WHY ME?" I didn't realise I was screeching until my mother ran her fingers over the temple of my head, her eyes packed with tears.
I healed at the end of may, and the beginning of June.
After gazing at the monuments in Delhi, to the organized streets in Chandigarh, to the snow-capped mountains in Manali, to the flower gardens in Dalhousie, to the temple in Amritsar and lastly, with the soldiers at Wagha border.
With people, with places, and with memories,
I realised that life is now.
Life is in the present. Life is in the moment that I live, life is now that I'm writing.
Life is this.
My aunt, in east Maharashtra, was a messenger sent by Madhav, which we both believe in.
"You have taken the steering wheel of your life from Madhav. Return it back, divya. Let him drive. Let him take care of the speed and destination. You sit beside him and enjoy the journey. And trust him again. He won't let the brakes fail."
"It doesn't matter how many times you water a mango seed, for it will only ever bear fruits in summers."
"The only two things that you should focus on are; what you want in life and what will you do to achieve it."
She healed me.
At the end of the summer, on the brink of an upcoming monsoon,
In the garden, I met Madhav again.
In my dreams, I dream of peacock feathers and summers.
I dream that I am sitting beside the driver's seat and am gazing at the buildings that I grew up with.
"What happened?" Madhav asked.
I grinned; all teeth.
"Winters are parting," I answered.
"What do you see, Divya?" He asked standing beside me.
"I see the dawn of a rising sun."
"I will never let this sun set." He promised.
Now, as the fear of academic pressure looms over me, as new books, new publications await me,
I smile.
"Let me live now." i mutter.
I can see Madhav's eyes cramming with tears for the first time in days and a smile beaming at the dawn.
Author: Divya A. Korde.
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oediex · 2 years ago
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Any advice for going barefoot? I’m getting used to barefoot shoes and having a great time I LOVE being able to feel the ground fully, but I’m a bit nervous to take the next step haha
Hey! Thanks for your question! I've never had a question about barefooting before!
The fact that you're already wearing barefoot shoes puts you a step ahead of me, haha! I just went straight to going barefoot. Though I did do it in steps.
At first, I would wear my sandals (it was summer) to go to university (where I was a student and working), but take them off the moment I got there. And I didn't put them back on until I went back home.
Then I did some research, learned about the health benefits involved with barefooting, and decided just to go to and from university barefoot as well. I would still take my sandals with me in my bag though, just in case. I was also still cycling with shoes on, and also would put them on if it were dark and I couldn't see where I was walking.
Until I stopped doing that too 🤷 including leaving my sandals at home. (Except when it gets too cold. At first that was 10°C for me, then 5°C, now I can go outside until it's nearly 0°C (freezing temperature, in case you're a °F person), and it'll depend on how long I'm outside. I have closed shoes for the winter, I wear them maybe 2/3 weeks per year? Of course that depends on the climate you live in.)
The fact that I did this in steps means I really gave my feet the opportunity to strengthen slowly. It's not advised to go immediately full-time to barefoot if you're used to shoes, because it can be quite a shock. You need to give the muscles in your feet the change to develop, same as you would do with any other muscle. But since you're getting used to barefoot shoes already, that's something you're already doing, so that's good!
One thing that you will need to get used to is certain surfaces. The first time I cycled barefoot, for example, was a bit painful (because of the texture of the pedals). But then my feet got used to it. Same with hot pavement. It barely bothers me now (only when I'm standing still, so you'll often see me hopping from one foot to another in the summer), but I remember a few long-time walks on pavement on sunny days that the soles of my feet did not enjoy! Gravel is another surface that needs practice, as well as anything with pebbles.
The advantage of going barefoot over barefoot shoes are, I would say,
feeling the ground and its different textures beneath your feet 💚
not having to spend money on shoes as much 😂
not having your feet in a dark, warm enclosed space, which is an environment that bacteria (and smelly feet) love. (if you're wearing closed barefoot shoes)
Some disadvantages:
people will look at you, and talk to you, take videos or photos, and you have to decide how to deal with that. Personally, I don't care what people think of me and my bare feet. Most reactions are positive and/or neutral. The negative reactions are few. When people ask me why I do it, I usually say "because it's healthy". When kids ask me, I tell them it's because it's fun ❤️ (which it is). I have a friend who gets really annoyed when people take pictures or videos of me, and she'll yell at them to stop doing it. 😂 Honestly, I barely even notice. When I do notice, I usually let them be, though I have considered going up to them and asking them if they think it's really okay to film people without their permission.
my family (parents and sisters) weren't so keen on it when I started. They'd have certain rules in the beginning. Like, you have to wear shoes at your grandmother's birthday party, or something. I was more flexible in the beginning, and would sometimes put shoes on if they asked. But then they got used to it, so they wouldn't anymore. And now we joke about it. Like, the other day my mum went "Oedie, your feet are so dirty". And my reaction was "well obviously" and my dad chuckled and said the same, "well duh". Also recently, my grandmother died and I warned them "I'm not wearing shoes at her funeral" and they weren't keen on it. But then it was 3°C (near freezing), so I told them "you're lucky, it's too cold not to wear shoes since we're going to be outside for a while". 😂 So, long story, but basically people around you will think it's weird and depending on your relationship with them, that may bother you more or less.
This is probably the most important one, but there will be places where you will not be allowed to be barefoot. I've been told I wasn't allowed to shop somewhere, wasn't allowed to eat somewhere (this was in recent years, they were worried about covid???), and I've also been told at places where I've worked to wear shoes. My personal approach to that is that I'll put them on if I have to (like at work), but if it's a shop that's forbidding me entrance and I can go somewhere else, I'll go somewhere else. (I'll tell them that, and I'm also very consistent in that. If a shop has told me I'm not allowed in, they don't get my business.) I also always make it very clear that if something happens to me, and it was because I'm not wearing shoes, that's my responsibility. The upside of this is that there will be businesses who will love my going barefoot and I love going to those places, because I feel especially welcome.
Anyway, sorry it's so long! But I hope it's informative. If not, please feel free to send me another aks! And thank you again!
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pillsarchive · 2 years ago
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Castlevania - Imagine Vlad Tepes giving you a private tour of the louvre at night
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NOTES: Over the summer I went to the louvre in the daytime. I loved it but the heat was terrible and there were way way way too many people for my liking so I got to thinking - what if you had a cool radical vampire bf with cool radical vampire powers to break you in at night and make sure you get to really look at everything? I know he's a musuem girlie, no way he wouldn't take the time to personally explain the history of (and his personal expirience with) every object that really caught your eye.
Ignore the technicalities, I know breaking in probably wouldn't be as easy as just climbing through a skylight. He ate all the guards or something - whatever makes it more plausible.
WARNINGS: None, some happy crying but its mostly just fluff.
“How has no one asked why you’re carrying a blindfolded girl around yet? I know you have powers and stuff, but you cant glamour everyone on the streets of Paris… can - can you do that?”
Vlad nearly giggled as he held you closer to his cold body.
“Your human eardrums would split if I told you all the details - the words for some of the abilities I have cant be translated into english, im afraid.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling. He began to speak again.
“It also helps that we’re breaking in, and it’s nighttime.”
You paled and looked up at him, mouth slacking open.
“Wait what?”
“Oh dont act so shocked.”
The corners of your mouth quirked up. You could barely sit still as he held you, walking so smoothly it felt as if you were both laying down. You had asked him a million times where you were going, why a blindfold was necessary, and all he had given you so far was a smug “it’s a surprise darling, you have to be patient.”
That had never been one of your virtues.
The sound of the night and all the people walking around suddenly dulled and you felt yourself slowly begin to lift then descend into a cold room. 
You clung to your boyfriends chest. 
“Woa- jesus are we falling through someone’s roof?”
“No, no, I suppose now is an opportune time to tell you where we are and take your blindfold off.”
“Really?”
“Yes really, ill help you - here -”
His fingers untied the knot and the black silk ribbon fell from your eyes.
When you saw where you were you slapped your hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to cry. 
“The louvre, my love. You said you’d like to see it with me but I cant go out during it’s business hours and you’ve always worried about the crowds - I figured I’d make the situation a little easier for the both of us. “
Now you felt hot tears spill out of your eyes and roll down your face in rivers. What had you ever done to deserve him? How could someone this amazing be as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him? You had always loved art and you’d tried to go to the louvre once with some friends before you’d met vlad, but the crowds made you too anxious and it was so hot in the daytime. At night the moon shone through the glass ceiling of the entrance room and refracted off of the big glass pyramid, the marble walls were cool to the touch. 
Vlad noticed your tears and smiled.
“No need to cry dragul meu, think of it as your birthday present - though rest assured you will be getting much more than this. I greatly enjoy spoiling you, you realize.”
You laughed and pulled him into a tight hug, playing with his long black hair.
“How am I supposed to top this when it’s your birthday? Im thankful, but this is a lot already. The best birthday present I was expecting to receive like ever in my whole life was a car, maybe a lot of books or tickets to orlando horror nights if I got lucky.”
He smiled and ran his gloved hands over your back as he spoke.
“Trust me, my love, you give me the best present ive ever gotten - ever in thousands of years over thousands of lifetimes by being with me and loving me. After doing all the things ive done I never expected anyone that knows my face to stay with me, let alone someone i’ve been pining over for a decade. Lubitul meu.”
You pulled away from the hug and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss and cupped your face in his hands. After a while he pulled away. 
“As much as Id enjoy standing with you and kissing you for the rest of the night, I want you to get as much time with your gift as you can.”
You grinned and took his hand, looking up at him.
“Can we start with the renaissance statues?”
“Of course”
You walked into the moonlit gallery, grabbing a map as you went. The museum was completely empty save for you two and you couldn’t have been happier.
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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years ago
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Headlights Girl
Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance
Words: approx. 8k
Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.
My book 🌸 Ko-fi  🌸 Patreon
--------------------
Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.
Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.
I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.
Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.
There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.
A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.
He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.
Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.
It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.
What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.
Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!
But she wasn’t talking to me. 
School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.
They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.
A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?
I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.
I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.
Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.
“Gimme a moment.”
My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.
I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.
Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.
Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.
Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?
I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.
No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.
I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!
I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.
It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.
I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.
I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it. 
I hated those dreams.
I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.
“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.
“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”
“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”
I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come here.”
I didn’t know why I was chosen.
Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.
I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.
“You like art, kid?”
I snorted. “No.”
“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.
“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.
“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”
She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.
I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.
It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.
She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.
I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.
I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.
Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.
Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.
I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.
That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.
I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”
She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”
I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.
A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.
------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.
I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.
It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.
Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”
Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.
Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?
I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.
Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.
They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost. 
No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.
I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.
“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”
“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.
“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”
I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.
There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.
I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.
Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.
“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise
“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”
I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”
“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.
“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”
“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.
“What?”
“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”
He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”
They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.
I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.
There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.
I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl? 
I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.
I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.
---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”
I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”
I shrugged. “Not today.”
“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”
I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.
“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”
“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.
“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”
“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.
“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”
I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”
“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”
I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.
“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”
There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.
The door dinged instead.
“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.
Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.
Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.
I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.
I think she recognized me too.
We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.
She cleared her throat first.
“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”
The door was right there.
“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.
“A tattoo?”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.
“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.
“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”
A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”
“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”
“It was fine,” I corrected.
“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.
“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.
I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.
The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”
“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”
I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.
“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------
The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.
Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.
“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.
“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.
“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.
“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”
“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”
I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”
“Any of them come visit?”
“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”
“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”
“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”
“You like poetry.”
I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”
“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.
I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”
Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”
“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”
“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.��
I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.
I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”
Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.
I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.
I barely looked over.
The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.
“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.
“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”
“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”
“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”
“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.
“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”
“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.
“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”
“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”
She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”
“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”
“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”
She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.
“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.
“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.
“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.
“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”
“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”
“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.
“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.
“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”
“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”
“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”
I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”
She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”
“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”
“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.
“Drink up.”
It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.
I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.
I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.
Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.
I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.
“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.
This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.
“I’m looking.” I said carefully.
“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.
“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.
“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”
“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”
“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”
I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.
“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”
“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”
She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.
I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.
“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.
I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”
“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”
“So pushy.”
“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.
I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.
It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.
I was the one that scooted a little closer.
“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”
I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”
“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.
“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”
“A storm cloud butterfly?”
“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”
I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.
“Why?” I rasped after a moment.
“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”
“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.
She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”
I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.
“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”
“You got money for that?”
“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”
“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.
“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”
“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”
“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”
“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”
“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”
“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.
I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”
She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”
“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”
“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”
“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.
“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.
“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own. 
“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”
“In the butterfly?”
“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”
“What did you want to be?” Soft.
“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”
Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.
I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.
But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.
“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.
“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”
I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.
“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”
Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”
“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.
“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”
I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”
“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”
A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.
“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.
“No.”
“I wasn’t thinking . . .”
Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”
“Okay?”
“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”
“Daft Jeff. Yes.”
“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”
“Alright . . .”
“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”
I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”
“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”
“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.
“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”
I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?
She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”
“My parents aren’t the weather.”
“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”
I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.
“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”
“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”
The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------
It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.
I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.
“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.
“Yeah?”
“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.
“Maybe.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Oh, you know. This and that.”
“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”
“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”
“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”
“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.
“Are you going to share with the class?”
“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.
“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.
“Do you know what they say about moths?”
“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”
“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”
“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”
“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.
“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”
A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”
I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”
“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”
“Yeah, those were her exact words.”
“So?”
“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”
“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.
“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.
“Why?”
“Because they follow the light.”
It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.
I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.
I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.
The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.
A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.
“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”
“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”
“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.
“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”
I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.
I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.
-----------
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malfoysstilinski · 4 years ago
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the rose garden | DRACO MALFOY (SMUT)
MASTERLIST 
Draco Malfoy x Reader
SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N in his mother’s rose garden. 
REQUESTED by anonymous “Could I request were draco and his girlfriend has been together for a year or 2 and their parents are really good friends. Y\Ns parents are also death eaters. And y/n is slytherin. It would be their 5th or 6th yr? Preferably a smut?” 
WARNINGS: smut, public sex, extreme dirty talk, slut shaming, blowjobs, face fucking, fingering, riding 
Hogwarts was out of session for the summer, and due to students living all across the United Kingdom and Ireland, it meant a lot people didn’t see their significant others for a long two months or so. However, fortunately, that was not the case for you and Draco. 
You didn’t live far from each other and your parents were all friends-- they had been since before you and Draco were even born. They had been loyal followers of Lord Voldemort and passed them down to the two of you even after he was gone. 
Whilst you questioned some things, you never said it out loud, and neither did Draco, allowing your parents to think that the two of your were perfect for each other. It was probably one of the only things that they were right about. 
You and Draco had taken the Hogwarts Express together, you’d been sorted into Slytherin one after the other, you had all of the same friends-- Blaise, Pansy, Theodore, Daphne, Crabbe, Goyle-- and during your fourth year, after dancing with each other all night at the Yule Ball, you’d kissed and realised that maybe what you had had been more than a friendship this entire time. 
For nearly two years now, you and Draco had been dating. Despite being such a dick to everybody else, Draco treated you exactly how you deserved to be treated-- like a real princess. In his eyes, you were a princess. The most beautiful of them all. Especially around your parents, who adored him as much as his parents adored you. 
Currently, you sat beside each other at the Malfoy’s dining table, Lucius and Narcissa sat at the heads of the table whilst your parents sat opposite the two of you. A starter of some sort of soup was in front of you and you took small spoonfuls delicately, portraying the table etiquette that you’d learnt before you could even spell properly. 
“Y/N, how was your fifth year?” Narcissa asks softly once the conversation changes from your father’s business to the new Potions teacher Hogwarts was supposedly getting next year. 
You smile politely as you glance up at your boyfriend’s mother. You’d always liked Narcissa, she was the more loving of Draco’s parents and you could tell that she genuinely cared about Draco. You were sure Lucius did too, but the blond-haired man often refused to show emotion which you knew took a toll on Draco growing up. 
“It was great, thank you, Mrs Malfoy,” you say, “I spent a lot of it studying for my O.W.Ls, which went well.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” Narcissa smiles back. 
The rest of dinner seems to go by swimmingly, your parents mainly talking to each other but making small talk with the two of you as well. You’d all known each other all your lives, so it wasn’t really awkward at all. You’re finishing off the last of your drink when you feel a palm touch your thigh. 
You know better than to react. 
Draco’s cold hand smooths up and down your soft skin whilst he talks with your father and his father about something to do with the Ministry, your mothers both engrossed in Narcissa’s latest additions to her personal garden. Your father makes a joke that has Lucius laughing and Draco chuckling politely, your mouth absentmindedly forcing a small smile to act like you were listening, but all you can focus on is Draco’s hand. 
He’s such an asshole. 
You nearly shiver in delight as his slender fingers trace up and down your leg, growing warmer the longer they resided there. However, when you feel the pad of his index finger make contact with your sex, sliding underneath the thong that you’re wearing tonight, you purse your lips and grip the table, shocked. 
He swipes his finger through your folds, gathering up the arousal that’s already there and swiping it across your clit. He starts to rub at it agonisingly slow, making you bite down on your lips lightly. You grab your drink and lift it to your lips to distract yourself, but you choke slightly on it when Draco rubs it at the perfect pace, spikes of arousal coursing through you and dampening your panties even more. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” Narcissa asks worriedly, “You’re looking rather flushed.”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, forcing yet another smile. “I’m just feeling rather... hot, that’s all.”
“If you would like, you and Draco could step outside for some fresh air before desert is served?” Narcissa offers, her face brightening, “Oh, Draco, you can show Y/N the new roses I put in the garden.”
“They’re all the way at the back, mother,” Draco began to complain, before something mischievous flashed in his silver eyes, “Oh, well I suppose it’s only polite I do so. Come, Y/N.”
He retracts his hand from your leg and stands, offering it to you. You send a weak smile to Narcissa and take his hand, your mothers cooing happily as Draco leads you out of the dreary dining room. As soon as you’re out into the fresh air, you shove Draco with a small glare. 
“You dick!” You grumble at him, “Look, in the common room is one bloody thing, but in front of our parents? Merlin, Draco! If I got off in front of my father I would never be able to look him in the eye again. Especially if we had been caught!”
“But you liked it really, didn’t you, my little slut?” Draco growls, turning and grabbing your jaw with his slender fingers. “You love it when I get you off in front of people. Your cunt aches at the thought of nobody knowing what’s going on beneath the table.”
You whimper at his words, reaching up and placing your hand on his wrist. Draco smirks and looks back at the house. 
“Come on then, Y/N,” Draco drawls, “Since you made such a fuss, I guess I must show you the rose garden now. Such a brat...”
Draco never talks to you like this in normal day circumstances, so you know what’s coming. This is foreplay for the way he’s probably about to bend you over and fuck you outside the house your parents are currently sat inside. 
You can’t wait. 
You feel yourself grow slick at the thought, slightly dampening your thighs as he sends you a look and jerks his head, gesturing for you to go up the path first. As soon as you’re in front of him, you feel his large hand smack against your ass, making you jump a little. 
He grabs your arms from behind, forcing you against his front and pressing his lips to your ear. You can feel his erection pressing against your back.
“Be a good girl,” he hisses, his breath smelling faintly like the alcohol he’d been drinking with his dinner.
You make it towards the end of the garden and Draco whirls you around before dropping down onto his mother’s favourite bench. The seating was wooden, however, the arm wrests were dark green serpents, Draco’s hand curling around them as he parted his legs wide. 
His silver eyes glinted with mischief, daring you to come closer. 
“Draco,” you breathe. 
“Come on, princess,” Draco unbuttons the top of his trousers. “On your knees. Show me how much you want me.”
Without thinking much at all, your brain foggy with arousal, you drop down onto your knees in front of the bench, unzipping Draco’s smart trousers. He sits up a little to help you drag them down his thighs. You reach to pull at the waistband of his underwear, pulling it back an inch and then letting it go so it snapped lightly against his erection. 
Draco hisses in a mixture of pain and pleasure and grabs your wrist, glaring down at you. 
“Enough,” Draco snaps, “Put your lips where they belong, slut. Around my fucking cock.”
You nearly moan out loud at his words, this time actually peeling his underwear down so that his erection sprung out the top. It was red and angry, the vein along the shaft practically pulsing beneath your gaze as precum made itself present at his tip. 
You lean up further on your knees, one hand on his thigh and the other moving out to gently grasp his dick. Draco groans under his breath, eyes focused on you as you jerk slowly up and down his length, your thumb gliding out to swipe the precum off. Draco relaxes further against the bench, a drowsy smirk crossing his face when you lean forward and take him in your mouth.
“Good little slut...” he drawls, his lanky hand reaching out to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly when you suck your cheeks in, making your mouth feel so much tighter around him. “Fuck, Y/N. So fucking good for me. Best cock sucker there is.”
You moan around his cock, your hand moving to jerk off the part that you couldn’t quite reach with your mouth. Your tongue runs up and down him, feeling his vein and making its way up to the tip where you give it kitten licks. 
“Mm, stop teasing,” Draco grunts, his other hand moving out to grab your head. 
He keeps your head still and you know what’s coming. Slowly, he begins to thrust his hips, driving his cock in and out of your mouth so that his tip hits the back of your throat every now and then. You make slight gagging sounds, your eyes watering as spit coats his length. Draco loves the sight, he wishes he could take a picture. 
He stops thrusting his hips, finding it tiresome from his position sat down, and instead uses your head like you’re a toy, forcing you up and down his cock. You moan, hands grabbing his thighs, focusing on breathing in and out of your nose. 
Before he can cum, he pulls you off of him abruptly, a string of spit joining your lips and the tip of his cock. Draco smirks and brushes your lips with his thumb. 
“My beautiful little cock slut,” he mutters, sitting further back against the bench. “I think that you’ve deserved some fun of your own, don’t you?”
“Yes, Draco,” you pant, nodding. “Please.”
“Since you asked so politely.”
Draco reaches forwards, hands on your waist as he tugs you towards him. You fall so that you’re straddling his body on top of the bench, out in the open where anybody could see you. He tugs up your tight dress and grabs at your ass, squeezing it and leaning forward to lick a stripe up your cleavage which is on show from your dress. 
You can feel his cock brushing against your soaking heat. Your clit is throbbing so bad it nearly hurts, whines leaving your lips as Draco grabs the thin straps of your green bodycon dress and tugs them down, revealing your breasts to him. As his mouth dives forward to grab one of your nipples in his mouth, you can’t help but lower your body, grinding down against his hard cock and making him groan against you, vibrations running through your body. 
“You’re soaked,” he mutters, pulling away once he had left a hickey on your breast where it wouldn’t be seen in your dress. “Such a fucking slut. You get off letting me fuck your face, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” you’re too aroused to really know what you’re agreeing to. All you know is that you need Draco to do something before you explode. “Please.”
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Please fuck me, Draco,” you beg him, “please make me cum.”
Draco smirks and reaches to grab your waist harder. You lift up on your knees more and watch as one of his hands disappears between you both. You feel the tip of his dick brush against your eager folds and you whine even louder, biting you lip and nodding at him quickly. 
“Please, please, please.”
Draco guides it through your soaked sex before he finds your hole and takes one more look at you. The nod of consent is all he needs before he plunges himself into you. You both moan, breaths hitching in your throat. As you slide down so that you’re sat on his lap, his cock buried balls deep inside your pulsating heat, you feel so full, like if you were to put your hand against your stomach then you would feel him there.
“So fucking tight,” Draco hisses between gritted teeth. “Come on, slut. Ride me.”
You obey his command, growing slicker at his choice of nickname for you. Your hands move to his shoulders and you use them to help you bounce up and down on top of him, inches slipping out before being forced all the way back inside you, hitting spots that you didn’t know existed. 
Draco was panting slightly beneath you, his silver eyes flickering from where he could see his cock coming in and out of your pussy, slick with your arousal, and up to your face where your head was thrown back in pleasure as you whined and moaned. 
“So beautiful.” He reaches up and grabs your neck. “Look at me.”
You listen to him, feeling his fingers tighten around your neck and slightly blocking your airway. You feel lightheaded in the best possible way, eyes fluttering and your walls pulsating more around his cock as it drives in and out of you. Draco realises you’re starting to feel hazy and starts using his hips so he can pound up into you harder.
The sounds of your bodies colliding and your soaked pussy that normally embarrass you but turn Draco on don’t humiliate you today. You’re too focused on the grip he has on your neck and the way he keeps his pace thrusting in and out of you-- like it’s his only purpose in life. You know you’re going to cum soon.
Draco’s face dives forwards and nuzzles back to your breasts that are bouncing right in front of him. He licks and sucks and bites anything he can, his hot breath fanning your skin and making you cry out. 
“Draco,” you cry. 
“That’s it,” Draco grunts, forcing a few extra hard thrusts. “That’s it, Y/N. Fucking slut. You’d let me do anything to you. Such a fucking whore.”
You can tell that he’s close from how his hand has moved from your neck to your clit. His fingers create hard figures of eights against your throbbing bud, coating his digits in your arousal. You moan louder, this time driving your hips up harder and faster to keep up with his thrusts.
“Come on, Y/N,” Draco hisses, “you gotta cum for me. Cum all over my cock.”
His words are enough to send you toppling over the edge, your loudest moan yet half-buried by your teeth sinking into Draco’s shirt-clad shoulders. Your walls clench and shudder around him, tightening against his cock and causing his eyes to scrunch shut. Your breathless whisper of his name once your orgasm rolls by has him cumming straight after you. His hot seed shoots up inside in spurts, coating your walls and making you whine out against him again. He thrusts a couple of more times before he pulls out. 
“Mm, Dra- Draco,” you mutter as he pulls you off of him and pulls the top of your dress back up. 
Draco chuckles as he fixes his own underwear and trousers, pulling your dress down for you as you slide your panties back up. He presses a loving kiss to your lips. 
“Not too much, was it?” Draco asks worriedly. 
“No, that was perfect,” you admit, stroking some of his hair back into place. 
“Good. I agree. Now, let’s get back to our parents. Desert must be ready soon.”
-
my mum came extremely close to catching me write this so i hope it was worth it honestly 
3K notes · View notes
erythrum · 3 years ago
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𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓
𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦
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The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.
Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.
“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.
“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.
As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.
The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.
“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.
“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.
“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.
His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.
I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.
“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.
“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.
“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.
The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.
“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.
“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.
“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.
"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.
The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.
“Soooo,” he said.
“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.
"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.
""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.
His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.
"Im sorry, what did you just say?"
"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"
"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"
“Correct.”
“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”
“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.
“Why?”
It was my turn for a long sigh.
“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.
“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.
“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.
“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.
He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.
Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.
"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.
"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.
It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.
"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.
I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.
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elephart-hi · 3 years ago
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Worthy of a Queen | Jurdan Canon Compliant AU
AU: Jude decided to take Cardan in small doses during The Wicked King. Lovers AU
Summary: Jude was a fool for try to best Cardan here. She may be a cunning spy and a swords master but the bedroom and lovemaking was his domain.
~~~
“Shall we continue?” he asked in a voice of innocence that certainly seemed akin to lying with how far innocence was from his intentions.
~~
Jude had underestimated Cardan. She got her prize, she had won the battle, but he was going to win the war. With that miserable thought in mind and her pride boiling with anger she spat out her response, “fuck you.”
Cardan’s chuckle was dark and dangerous as he said, “with pleasure.”
Rating: M is for mature and mad filthy (but ends sweetly) (I try to trick ya in the beginning bare with it)
AN: This is my first ever fic!!!! And of course, it's Jurdan and of course, it's smut. No one is surprised. Shout out to Amber and Hannah for being my beta readers and convincing me to post this. And shout out to @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 who's beautiful writing made me go fuck it and sit down and write something myself which I've always wanted to do, so thank you keep being wonderful.
Please let me know what y'all think! I have ideas for a whole fic for this so if you want that tell me.
Inspired by these sketches and this
set during the Wicked King
warnings: hair pulling, spanking, and light bondage
AO3
As she lay sprawled out on her hands and knees, dirty, sweaty, and out of breath, it was clear to Jude Duerte that pride was her hamartia. She could have everything that she needed if she would only concede but stubbornly she refused to. Her pride wouldn't allow it, no matter how desperate she was.
Instead of the glory, she assumed she would achieve that night she lay there pathetically at his mercy. Something she deeply detested. She detested it almost as much as the smirk she could practically hear on his full lips as an infuriatingly cocky laugh rumbled out from deep in his throat. A laugh that had her toes curling and her seeing red and seething. Just as most things that came from his lips did.
Jude gritted her teeth together as she futilely attempted once more to get him to relent but the ironclad grip on her hair did not loosen and she was met with another rumble of laughter followed by a resonating smack of skin against skin. Her cheek stung from the impact and the slap made her burn red hot. The blow would surely bruise.
She hated him for this. Absolutely loathed him for it. She could easily beat him in a fight, have him on his back with a knife to his throat in less than ten seconds if she wanted. He knew that as much as she did. He probably relished in the knowledge of it, of having her here like this when she could easily best him. But she couldn’t now. Not if she wanted what she came for. Tonight her only option of getting what she needed would be to play nice. Something she was not fond of nor good at. Something that she absolutely did not want to do. Jude wanted nothing more than to make him see red as she did at that moment.
In her anger and frustration, Jude let his name snarled from her lips, “Enough of your stupid games Cardan” she nearly spat the last syllable out.
She was met with another slap, its impact sent her reeling with a groan slipping from her mouth. She hated to give away that his blow affected her at all; that groan was a loss for her. He hummed at the sound she made. Satisfied that her patience was running thin. Happy that he was getting to her. He knew he was winning. He gripped her hair tighter, tugging her head back and her lips pulled into a sneer. She could hear that fucking smirk again as he murmured into her ear with the buttery voice of a lover, “What games do you speak of my darling Jude?”
She struggled again but to no avail. The ‘my darling’ getting to her just like he knew it would. Oh, it made her burn. “You know what I’m speaking of!”
All that he smugly replied with was “Do I?” a small quip from his devastating lips.
She knew he was toying with her. Responding with questions to avoid having to speak in truths. A common trick of the fae used to deceive those around them. But Jude was having none of it.
“Give me what I want, Cardan!” it was a vicious snarl from her lips. He stilled completely at it and she knew it had been a mistake to let her temper fly. She knew he would only give her what she craved if she played by his rules and losing this prize was not an option for her. She couldn’t afford it. Jude was absolutely desperate.
He leaned in close to her ear once more and in a hushed whisper that sent a shiver, not unlike a premonition, down her spine and said, “all you have to do is ask Jude. But make it pretty, befitting of the king of fairy,” his words were an infuriating echo of what he had said to her not so long ago at the summer tournament after she had bested him in the war games. He had gripped her hair like this then too. But Jude doubted she would best him tonight.
She hated it. She hated him for this.
“Go fuck yourself,” she spat at him. He gripped her hair painfully tight this time and slapped her ass harder than he had before. The combination left a series of moans spilling out of her.
He drank up her cries like it was the fine wine they had drunk from the bottle which sat empty next to their dinner on the discarded tray situated on his bed next to them. The gaudy fabric of the comforter cushioned both of their knees, his tucked under and between hers, forcing her legs to be spread wide for him.
“But then I’d have to stop fucking you, my sweet nightmare. And I know neither one of us would want that” he looked down to where he was buried to the hilt in her, still and unmoving. His free hand massaging her red and sore butt cheeks that were bruising from his earlier abuse.
“Especially not after you were dressed up so divinely for me tonight. That dress was just begging to come off wasn’t it?” He hummed as his free hand went from massaging her sore bum to teasing her right above the nub between her thighs. So close to where she desperately needed him to be but giving her no reprieve and only making her more desperate. Jude bit her lip, refusing to respond, her stubbornness digging its heels in, so Cardan continued on.
“I could tell how wound up you were when you showed up here. With a pretty blush already on your breasts and the sweet scent of your arousal coming from your skirts with every step you took towards me.” The dress in question laid discarded on the floor beside his own clothes. It had been raven-black to match his hair, hugged her curves and muscles like a second skin, and was dangerously low cut. Definitely not her usual attire, definitely wasn't subtle Jude realized with embarrassment. Both of their wardrobes had been removed in haste not far into their dinner. The buttons of Cardan’s ridiculous blouse scattered the tiles beneath the bed, having been ripped from the fabric as Jude rushed to undress him in her lustful frenzy.
“So unusually kind of you to bring dinner and wine for me, to ask to eat in my company. I know it was all just an act to get me to fuck you, Jude. The least you could do for me is beg for it,” he whispered dangerously, his voice thick with his arousal.
Jude flushed again, this time in shame from his words. That he truly thought it out of her character to be kind. It was true of course. Jude wasn’t a very kind person, not after what she had lived through. But for some reason that was beyond her, she wanted him to think highly of her. She wanted him to think she was kind. And most bizarre of all, she wanted to be kind to him. Perhaps fairyland was driving her mortal mind mad after all.
“It wasn’t just to get you to bed me Cardan,” Jude answered ashamed of how breathy it came out, ashamed of what she was about to say, “I did want to enjoy your company tonight. I brought you dinner and wine because I thought it would make you happy.”
Jude would be damned before she begged him or anyone for anything. But if he wanted sweet words from her she would give it to him at this point. His free hands had moved upwards from tracing around her clit and had gone to circle her breasts. From time to time he would give them a brutal squeeze. More taunting but no release. Jude was a bundle of nerves wound up painfully tight. She needed her prize and she would be getting it if it was the last thing she did. She just wouldn’t beg for it.
To her surprise, he landed another searing smack to her backside sending her sliding forward and had him pulling her back onto his cock by her hair. Jude’s toes curled on the mattress, more moans spilling from her lips. She was beyond keeping them in at this point, the wine they had drunk making her dizzy, or perhaps it was just him doing that. The lust fogged her brain more than the alcohol did. She tried to slide forward again so she could push back onto his delicious length, rock hard and throbbing within her, but he held her hair tight, keeping her in place. Still no release in sight.
“Dirty mortal liar” Cardan spat at her, not believing her wishes to make him happy. Landing another brutal blow on her bum. Cardan had confessed to Jude in the court of shadows that he was no killer, but that didn’t take away from his cruel nature. He wasn't being gentle with her. Jude didn’t want him to be.
The spanking was a mercy compared to the torture he had been forcing her to endure. The sharp slaps gave her friction and reprieve from his cold refusal to please her in the ways she craved. And now because of her earlier outbursts, he remained buried in her gut unmoving and wouldn't move an inch till she begged him to. Before at least he had been in motion albeit it being painfully slow. Sliding in and out of her aching core, still slick and throbbing from his earlier ministrations with his mouth. He had spent longer feasting on her than he had on his meal, now cold and forgotten. He had tortured her with his tongue, bringing her to the edge of precipice but never allowing her to tumble over the peak into blissful oblivion.
She thought he would finally give her release when he slid his gloriously thick length inside of her but still he only taunted her. Slowly he would slide in and out of her, mocking her with what she was desperate for. He would pull out to his tip, her hair locked in his ringed hand keeping her in place while he eased back into her wetness at a punishingly slow pace. All the while knowing she was desperate for more. Each strike to her ass had been a godsend, pumping red hot arousal to her system while his little endearments, ‘my Jude’, ‘my sweet nightmare’ spurred her on. Cardan knew she secretly loved to hear them. Knew she loved hearing him call her ‘his’. Knew it made her think of all the things he could do to claim her as his; with his hands, mouth, and cock.
But they were far too alike the two of them, Cardan as prideful and stubborn as she. Jude could feel him pulsing inside her. A pounding throb in time with his heartbeat. She knew it had to be painful at this point, he was torturing himself as much as he was her. But that was part of the thrill for him. He loved the powerplay, loved toying. He wanted to come out on top; Jude couldn’t let him.
“I may be a liar Cardan but I didn’t just then. I want to make you happy.” Jude was panting as she spoke. She would never live this down. She couldn’t bring herself to care though. It was the truth. She wanted it as much as she wanted him at that moment. She hadn’t been able to rid herself of the guilt of tricking him into the crown and chaining him to the throne as well as her command. She wanted to see a smile on his face rather than the sneer that lived there most days, as breathtaking as he was with either. Jude wanted Cardan to be happy and she wanted to be the one to make him feel that way. Especially after she was the source of his misery. Although it wasn’t as though he hadn’t been the source for much of hers in the past. That alone was the only thing that kept her from begging him to give her what she so desired. That she was horny enough to even consider begging him, if he was deserving of it, was something she didn't want to think too much about.
“If you wanted to make me happy Jude,” he said her name like a curse, his frustration with her stubbornness evident, ”you would beg for me.”
She felt a ghost of a touch tickle against her arm then flee away an instant later. She peeked down as much as she could with Cardan pulling her head back like he was. Below, his tail was coiling and uncoiling. Whipping back and forth sporadically. Like a cat’s would while it attacked its prey. Before, he had the laziness of a cat who had caught a mouse; a cat that was toying its food before devouring it. Now he was agitated and ready to strike. Jude could use that.
At her refusal to respond to him Cardan tisked and lamented “well if you have nothing to ask of me, my goddess of death, then I suppose we are done here.”
He started to pull out of her as though he meant to leave her there as a panting, aching, mess with no release in sight. Her prize to be lost. She felt his tail whisper next to her arm again, just as he slid his tip out, and with the desperation of a mouse fleeing its captor, Jude latched onto his tail and ripped him back, slamming his raging length deep into her. Hard. The cross between a groan and a whimper that escaped from his lips, and the toe-curling feeling of him slamming into her made her mad with desperation and giddy with power. Jude wasn't the mouse anymore. She was a lioness; she was going to feed.
“You’ll do well to remember who put that crown on your head, My King. Begging is out of the question and will be until you are worthy of it,” she purred at him. “As your sechel, I’d advise you to please me and do it well. But, and more importantly,” she said as sweet as the fruit of the everapple tree, “As the Queen of Shadows and master of your fate I demand you do it,” she finished with a smirk, using the word ‘demand’ instead of ‘command’, so there was no true magical power over him to do so.
“And Cardan,” She said glancing over her shoulder, his grip on her hair had gone slack enough for her to do so from his shock at her actions and words, “Do make it worthy of a Queen.”
Her bravo started to wear off as the giddiness faded. It was in that moment, staring into the Achingly beautiful face of the High King, whose midnight black orbs burned like fire threatening to consume her that Jude realized her mistake. From the look of the wickedly sinister grin on his sinful lips, Jude knew would be getting her prize after all… and then some. Cardan had been playing nice until now, in hopes she would be nice in turn to him. Now that he knew there would be no such thing he was more than willing to unleash himself on her relentlessly.
What a fool she had been to forget one of the first rules of fairyland: Be careful what you wish for.
Jude would be lucky to be able to sit down or move for the next week without being sore if their last row together was any indication of how the rest of the evening would play out.
Cardan’s grip on her hair tightened again and used his free hand to trace a single finger up the curve of her spine, sending goosebumps flying in its wake. He pulled her up against his chest by her hair. Her head resting on his shoulder now, breasts pushed out to the world and peeking from the chill in the room brought on by his change in mood. Being the High King gave Cardan control over the weather and such things; no more nice Cardan who gave her sweet endearment, this was the Cardan she was most familiar with, his face the picture of icy rage.
Her breath plumed in clouds from the frigid temperature and ruffled the raven black hair sticking to the sweat on his brow. She shivered from the cold. He was so devastatingly beautiful like this it made her head spin. The sneer on his face made her toes curl knowing she was the one who had put it there.
His voice was murderous as he murmured, “Give me back my tail.”
Her grip on the thing tightened as it tried to lash out of her grip. His tone only stoked the fire burning in her gut, the heat fighting the chill of the room.
She felt the giddiness bubble up in her again, the same feeling of fear mixed with excitement that she got when she taunted him at school. The feeling of taking a dare.
“Fuck me like you were told princeling and perhaps I will,” she referred to him by the same mocking title his late siblings would call him by, all of them being more than a hundred years his senior and already have established roles in the kingdom, while he was hardly 19 and had still been in school with no real power. She was deliberately placing him beneath her by calling herself a queen and him only a boy prince, despite him being two years her senior. She felt the smugness tugging her lips when she heard his breath come out ragged and slow. He was going to great lengths to keep his temper in check, still not wanting to let her win. But Jude could taste her victory, her toes curled and her gut tingled with sharp electricity boiling there. An almost hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat, knowing that her next words would send him over the edge.
“Or perhaps you don’t know how to please a woman, hmmm?? Were all those ballads about you being a good lover just pixie dust in the breeze? Maybe the musicians of the court were just flattering you so that the fine people of fairy would think that you were actually good for something.”
It was an obvious lie and they both knew it, Cardan has had her screaming his name, soaking the sheets, and has made her a blubbering mess, nothing more than putty in his arms, much to her own shame. But the lie was an insult to his manhood nonetheless. He would have to fuck her senseless now, his honor and pride would demand it.
His grip on her hair tightened as the room rapidly started to heat back up, getting hotter by the second. Cardan was pissed now. He used his free hand to trace the curves of her body following his hand with his deadly stare. He took in every inch of her, from the blush on her cheeks that burned so bright it went straight down her neck and chest and spotted across her full breasts which were heavy and aching from her arousal. He took in Jude’s toned stomach and muscular thighs appraising them as though they were one of the powders he frequently took as though he hadn't had a dose in far too long and was itching for it. There was a furious hunger in that gaze. The stare of a recovering alcoholic glaring at the bottle before he dived to the bottom of it. Furious for even wanting it, furious for going back to it, furious for having said no to it for so long when it felt so right. He was going to give into Jude even if she didn’t beg him for it. He was pissed about it.
His tracing hand slowly inched towards the numb of nerves between Jude’s thighs, her hair tugged back on his shoulder allowed him to hear the airy sigh that befell her lips, tickling his hair. Her airy moan sounded like one someone would heave when they stepped into a steaming bath after a long day of hard work, easing their aching muscles. That wouldn't do at all. There would be no easing for her. If she wanted to step in that tub then Cardan was going to shove her in and force her head under the water and keep it there till she was thrashing for air. If she wouldn't beg him to start, then she would have to beg him to stop.
Cardan leaned in and whispered to her ear, using all of his willpower to keep his temper in check, “Fitting for a Queen you said hmm,” the words sent shivers running down her spine, had her walls clenching around his cock that was still buried in her, to her great dismay still not in motion.
Cardan paused to take a breath and for a moment the whole room stilled as though his magic had quieted the very air around them, as if the whole kingdom was tingling in anticipation, silently waiting to see what happened next. Even the roaring fire that was crackling in its hearth just seconds prior didn’t dare to make a sound, lest it invokes the wrath of the wicked king. The only noise was Jude’s ragged breathing in eerie contrast.
Cardan’s words eased out in his exhale, resembling the sickening woop in the stomach one gets when falling from large heights, “How's this for fitting?”
Jude’s eyes were blown wide and then forced tightly shut as he unleashed himself onto her. The sounds of the room roaring back to life around them were completely lost to her as the brutally aching bliss filled her to the brim. The sensations were overpowering her, overwhelming her senses after being denied it for so long. The feeling of his length filling her to the brim combined with his sinful hands, one tugging her hair the other rubbing her nub; It was too much. Cardan’s hand was brutal in its attack on her clit, rubbing her relentlessly right where she wanted it, just the way she liked it.
The act alone was more than enough and already toying her towards the edge of release. Cardan knew Jude’s body far too well. He had spent plenty of time tracking all her tells, tracking every breath she took while she lay beneath him from the first moment she welcomed him into her bed. His dark hungry eyes always locked on her taking everything in. Cardan was a fantastic lover not just because he knew how to please any woman who passed his way, but because he went to lengths to perfect his craft for those who stayed.
Jude realized with no little shame that he had been saying something to her but she had missed it because of the roaring in her ear. Her cheeks went impossibly pinker when she realized it hadn't been roaring, but her own moaning. She hadn't even realized she was doing it so overcome by her arousal after being denied all night. She glanced up at him and all she could stupidly say was, “huh?”
He barked a laugh, his head thrown back; he loved making her like this. Knocking Ms. Know-it-all off her pedestal, making her dumb-founded and drooling. Such a sharp contrast to her usual stoic demeanor. He leaned down close to her face, slowly licked up the dribble of spit hanging from the corner of her mouth. Then with a wicked smirk on his sinful face, one that promised nothing but trouble, he went to her ear and snickered, “you’re as soaked for me as you were when I shoved you into that river mortal.”
As he said it he rubbed her just so, sending her shuddering relentlessly into an orgasm around his unmoving cock. The orgasm shattered her mind and made her see white, then instantly red from the fury his word sent her into. She hated that he made her come while he said that. Knew he had done it on purpose to piss her off. Knew it was the damning truth since no lie could fall from his fairy lips. Bliss, anger, and shame all swelled within her swirling together and muddling her mind in ways fairy fruit never could. Jude felt as though she might fade into the very magic of fairyland at that moment for surely if one could be magic itself, this would be how they always felt.
Jude couldn’t even get a word in back at him for what he said because he slammed his mouth against hers before she could recover enough to form a coherent sentence; licking and drinking up her moans like it was his only purpose in life. His other hand moved from restraining her hair and wrapped around her middle, pinning the arm holding his tail to her side in an ironclad hold and pinning her body against chest; his hand reaching up to attack her breasts. Switching back and forth between one and the other, he would alternate massaging and pinching her nipples with painful precision. His other hand was still working her clit sending her rolling from one orgasm into the next. The combination of it all was so overwhelming she cried out into his mouth as she squirted all over his hands, soaking their legs and the sheets beneath them. Jude was awash with shame and bliss, leaning her full weight on him to remain upright. He hadn’t even begun to fuck her properly yet, Cardan was still buried within her throbbing painfully from denying himself and she was already a stupid mess in his arms. The shit-eating smirk on his face told her that he was thinking the same thing.
Jude was a fool for try to best Cardan here. She may be a cunning spy and a swords master but the bedroom and lovemaking was his domain. Her legs quivered beneath her, hands limp at her side. Cardan released his hold on her, sending her falling ungracefully forward onto her chest and face. He laughed at her mockingly, “and now the sheets are nearly as soaked as your clothes were that day.”
Jude’s blood boiled and she wanted to turn around and slap him. But as she went to move she found herself unable to. While she hadn’t been looking, brain hazy from her orgasms, the roots from the tree atop the hill had curled their way down the bedposts and snaked their way across the sheets wrapping around her wrists binding her in place. Another display of his kingly magic. Jude tried to figure where she went wrong, one moment she was the one with power and now here she was again, completely at his mercy and more so than before. The answer to her question flicked back and forth in the periphery of her vision, his tail moving again like a lazy cat playing a game it knew it was going to win. He had made her come so hard she completely lost her senses and touched the stars and managed to release her one and only advantage.
“Thank you for returning my tail to me sweet Jude,” he said, noting her coming to this realization. His hand returned to her hair pulling her head back as much as he could while her hands were bound. He shifted, leaning forward shifting his body causing his cock to finally move within her once more; it was enough to make her lose a breathy moan. Oh! The frustration she felt with herself! She was a fool for him and it was humiliating. His other hand went back to massaging her bruised bum as he chuckled darkly behind her.
“Shall we continue?” he asked in a voice of innocence that certainly seemed akin to lying with how far innocence was from his intentions. Jude was still miserably horny, and not even the two earth-shattering orgasms he had given her were able to satiate her need after all the torture he had put her through earlier. She craved him desperately but her wounded pride couldn't bear to ask him to go on. She tried to shift her bum against his length again, the same attempts she had earlier, knowing it was just as futile now as it had been before. He laughed at her, slamming his palm hard against her ass just as he had done each time before.
“Excuse me, your majesty,” he purred, mocking her for calling herself a queen while pumping into her once, twice. Teasing her, making her nails dig into the bound palms of her hands in ecstasy, “I believe I asked you a question, my queen.”
Another endearment. Him calling her his. His queen. She squirmed again, willing him to please her but he held fast.
“Last chance Jude,” he murmured in her ear, leaning all the way forward so his cocked filled her completely, “Beg for mercy and I’ll give it to you,” the smirk was as present as ever in his infuriatingly sexy voice.
Jude had underestimated Cardan. She got her prize, she had won the battle, but he was going to win the war. With that miserable thought in mind and her pride boiling with anger she spat out her response, “fuck you.”
Cardan’s chuckle was dark and dangerous as he said, “with pleasure.”
He slammed into her unrelenting: brutal and hard. Jude was going to have to skip training tomorrow because of this, her body would be too sore. She hated missing training and it made her furious at him. Perhaps she just liked being made at him, she thought as he hit her spot over and over again making her see spots. She went to bury her moans and cries in the covers, still damp beneath them from when she squirted, but he pulled her hair back forcing her to cry out into the room for him to hear.
“Moan for me Queen Jude,” he gruffed out viciously, riled up and ravenous after having to wait so long himself to have her, “let me hear how worthy this fucking is of you hmm.. this is what you wanted wasn't it? A good fucking? It's what you came here for.”
He was relentless, Jude was biting her lip trying hard to not give him what he wanted. The wet sloppy sound of their bodies joining together echoed in the room in time with the slapping of his pelvis against her ass. It was debauched to hear how sinfully wet she was for him, the wet slapping making it painfully evident just how ‘worthy’ his fucking was. She groaned through her teeth and he yanked her hair hard forcing her mouth open. Her moans came spilling out, pitching each time he thrust his body into hers.
Cardan was groaning with her now. He was getting close if his sporadic thrusts were any indicator. The knowledge that he was getting off to her made her walls clench around him and her toes curl in pleasure, forcing a groan from deep in his throat to spill out. It was otherworldly, doing this with him, so many emotions, sensations, and feelings all swirling together in a messy lustful haze that left them rutting like savage dogs by the end of the night. They hated each other, didn't they? How could they keep coming back to each other like this? Why did this feel so right?
He pulled her hair back hard making her back bend almost painfully towards him, her wrists straining against the vines that bound her; training was definitely out of the question this week. She could see his face now, brows pinched, eyes dark, sweat dripping off of him while his mouth hung open. He was devastatingly gorgeous like this. He leaned down and kissed her as he landed three sharp blows to her ass with his other hand as he pounded into her relentlessly. She squirted again seeing stars as another orgasm ran through her. He smiled a brilliant smile down at her for it. So beautiful that she all but forgot her pride existed as she said breathily, “I didn’t come here just to fuck you Cardan, I swear it,” blush burning her cheeks at her confession, “I wanted to make you happy.”
She felt emotions shining on her face, ones she always buried but she didn’t mind it. Jude was mad with pleasure, drunk on his kiss, his scent, and sensations. Jude was drunk on him. Caution was lost to her.
Cardan’s eyes went wide at her words and he released her hair suddenly. A swear was a serious thing in Fairy especially one made to the high king. The vines receded from restraining her and he unsheathed himself from her aching core. She was met with a jolt of horror at what she had done, what she had said, in fear that she had upset him.
The panic was quickly replaced by confusion as he rolled her onto her back with tender hands and then leaned above her positioning himself between her legs with one arm bracing beside her head while his other hand came up to tenderly caressing her cheek. His cock was positioned right before her entrance, leaking with precum. He clearly had stopped right before his climax. What on earth compelled him to do such a thing?
“Is that the truth?” he said in a breathy whisper, chest still heaving from their wild fuckings, still trying to catch his breath.
All Jude could manage was a small nod.
His eyes searched hers, looking for something. Jude didn’t know if he found what he was looking for but after a moment he slowly slid into her again staring into her eyes. She wanted to look away, his gaze was too much as he slowly and sweetly slid their bodies together, again and again. He was being tender with not a rush in the world. A different kind of fire started building within her. Instead of a burning inferno like earlier, this one was the slow-burning of water set to boil. His dark gaze was searching, consuming. His beautiful face slack in awe as he looked at her.
“Beautiful,” he murmured like wonder spilling out of him. Jude snapped her eyes shut to it, to what she felt. She felt naked for the first time today despite having been freed of her clothing for the better part of two hours now. The way he was holding her, the way their bodies slid together, it terrified her, the emotions it stirred up. He cooed at her then, fingers caressing her cheek, “Jude,” he said sweetly, “look at me Jude, it's okay.”
She scrunched her eyes shut further at his words. He stilled, pulling away from her. He heaved a sigh, that sounded so much like hurt and disappointment. Quickly, shyly her hand reached out to the ringed one on her cheek just as it went to pull away. Softly Jude said, “Please-- Please don’t stop.”
Jude mustered all the courage she had, reached into the well of fearlessness she had obtained from living in fairyland, and opened her eyes. Dark pools the color of midnight stared back at her, full of swimming emotion. It was overwhelming, confusing. She wished she knew what he was thinking, wished she knew if this meant something. There was so much fear in her and she knew he could see it all on her face. She was so scared of this, “Please Cardan, keep going. Please. I-- I beg you.”
The smile that graced his shocked face was beautiful and hesitant like the one someone might make if they thought something was too good to be true. She shocked herself with the plea, she had never thought she could long for someone the way that she did at that moment. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She peeked to his tail in hope of gaining some insight, but it was wrapped around her calf, the furred tip seemed to be caressing her. She looked back up at him. Cardan was smirking, but it wasn't mocking, it seemed… endearing almost. But that couldn’t be. He clearly knew why Jude looked at his tail, knowing she liked keeping an eye on it because it made him easier to read. The crinkles beneath his eyes gave away happiness and his smirk tugged into a dazzling smile.
Jude’s heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. He ran his hand down from her cheek to her chest, feeling how fast it was pounding. His smile only grew, as he leaned down and nuzzled his nose against hers. Jude let loose a breath she didn't know she had been holding, it came spilling out of her like an airy laugh, her lashes fluttering at his closeness. He was being so sweet, it threw her off guard. She peeked into his eyes once more, she didn't really know what she was looking for in them. But she knew what she did not find there: his arrogance, his cruelty, and his wickedness.
There in his dark eyes, she saw something she didn't understand yet. Saw something shining there that she knew reflected back in her own. Confusion mingled with an emotion she had never known before. She realized she didn't understand a lot of things, about life, fairyland, and him. From the look in his eyes, she realized she didn't need to understand everything. And with that realization, she wasn't afraid anymore. She peered into his eyes unabashedly now, Belkin’s words from in the Isle of the Forgotten rang in her head:
“to mortals, the feeling of falling in love is similar to the feeling of fear.”
But what do mortals feel when they stop falling. What happens when they were wholly in love.
Jude didn’t know, and she didn’t care to know. She didn’t need to understand everything, she didn’t need to understand what she felt. She needed to just feel it.
If nothing else, Jude felt safe here in Cardan’s arms. A feeling that she had long grown unaccustomed to thanks to the cruelty of her life. She looked at the man before her, so similar to yet so strikingly different from the boy he was under Belkin’s thumb. This was a man who she wanted to make happy. And despite his uncanny ability to frustrate her, he had the uncanny ability to make her happy as well. He made her forget her pride and she made him forget his own. Neither caring who came out on top anymore. Maybe it was just the sex, maybe it was something more. She didn’t know and somehow that was fine.
With those thoughts singing in her head, Jude Duerte leaned up and kissed Cardan Greenbriar soft and slow, allowing all the things she kept buried within her to come pouring out. Allowing all the things she didn’t understand to pour out with it because perhaps Cardan didn’t understand it either. Perhaps they could learn to understand it together.
So that night, Jude waved the white flag and she made love to the King of Fairy.
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husbandohunter · 4 years ago
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Stardew Impact [Genshin+Stardew Valley/xReader]
Part 1/3 Kaeya, Diluc
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Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”
(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE YIP YIP)
Coming soon...
Albedo and Childe
Zhongli and Xiao
(A/N): So the brainrot was real in this one. I planned to add Albedo for a Mondstadt edition but kinda went overboard so I gotta split this one into parts too. Wordcount_almost 2k spspspsp
______________________________________________________
Diluc
• Already has the whole year planned in his head. Literally if Diluc were to play this game, he'd have a booming farm within year ONE. Calm and collected through and through, though the new environment raises alot of questions, as long as you were still with him, Diluc ain't complaining
• The town welcomes you two with open arms. It was all thanks to the attire. Diluc wore his usual dark coat adorned with regal gold while you had a dress made of Liyue's finest silk, one that he bought for you. Needless to stay both of you reeked the aura of rich aristocrats (Mayor Lewis is pleased that greedy bastard)
• Once the farm was permitted to your owndership, Diluc began to think of ways to turn it into a vineyard. He was a businessman afterall. Although the staff back at the Dawn Winery were the ones who tended the field, Diluc still knew a few things about planting due to his childhood days Master Crepus would bring him out to their yard and demonstrated the process of gardening. He still remembers those days clearly, doing the very same this moment with you.
• Occasionally works at the Saloon bar. It was the perfect opportunity. As you took care of the farm side, Diluc continues to look for more ways to increase the income while gathering information from the folks around town. Gus LOVES to have him over, like he's just so efficient and reliable! They soon become good friends saying if Diluc were ever to own a wine stock, he would gladly buy from him.
• This is why Diluc would stay a little later due to just chatting with the people from the bar. One time you walked into the Saloon only to the front desk with Emily alone. Turns out the others were in the other room, too busy playing a game of pool. You decided to leave him be since it was rare to have Diluc so relaxed in leisure activities. Thus in the end, you spent your time chatting with Emily until a whole hour has passed before your lover notices and apologizes for losing track of time.
• Everything felt like a dream because it was his dream. To live a life undisturbed from chaos, his duties and the dangers that lurk in Teyvat, Diluc grew fond of the domesticity. There was nothing he loved more than to spend his hours by your side, day after day, returning home to your freshly handmade meals.
• Spring: Already up and early planting the parnersnips (I'm very soft for gardener Diluc you see). What do you expect from a workaholic? Even during his leisure time you would often find him near some plant as he does consider this hobby quite therapeutic. But when it rains, Diluc would be standing beside you with an arm around your shoulder, smiling contently as you lean into his touch. He gazes through the dripping window and silently admires the current progress you both made on the farm.
• Between the two annual spring festivities, I would say the flower dance. Diluc is a private man and would prefer to take things where no eyes were on sight. But with a little bit of nudging from Gus (your wingman), he gives in and leads you to the center stage. Elegant. Graceful. The way you two moved together became the talk of the event. Though, Diluc was already used to people staring by now, all he needed to do was to ignore them and keep his focus on you.
• Summer: No blankets in bed. Nope, its bloody hot in Pelican Town. He tends to stay indoors or anywhere with shade, in other words, his work hours in the Saloon increased.
• Diluc always has a nice cold drink prepared for you if by any chance you were to pay a visit after a whole day of labour. It's a habit he's made subconciously as if it would be a natural occurance for you to enter the door. His colleagues would ask him who did he make that drink for? Honestly so cute i cri
• Moments like these remind him of Mondstadt, where he quietly wipes the glasses while listening to you talk. Your voice is soothing. Sun rays peek from the side casting onto the umber tables, reflecting a rich golden light as the radio plays a soft song in the background. It's so peaceful, the town was small hence not many people visited the bar, Diluc came to appreciate this warm privacy (plus no Venti and Kaeya which is a huge pog realization).
• Autumn: Harvest time baby. The kegs are full and the sheds are full of kegs. This season was huge stonks and the house ended up getting an upgrade. Diluc is the type of man who wants to make sure that his spouse wouldn't have to work another day of her life. I reckon this is why he's so ambitious because he wants you to have the best and you deserve the best. (Husband material. Slap a ring on him ladies).
When there was no more work left to do, time would be spend peacefully exploring the woods. While you skipped a few steps ahead as the leaves crunched beneath your feets, Diluc follows slowly from behind. He sees your back but his eyes stares somewhere far beyond whats in front of him: His future. 
It was such a stark contrast to the one he envisioned before. One filled with uncertaintly, blocked by darkness with no silver lining in sight, endlessly wandering as he drags the claymore against the ground. There was never a day in which the Darknight hero wouldn't think of Mondstadt. Leaving the city in the incompetent hands of Ordo Favonious while Abyss Mages continue to lurk fuels him to find a way to return as soon as possible and yet...
"Higher big sis!" Jas tightens her hold on the ropes as you pushed the swing with all your might. She laughs, like a child, it was full of innocence and joy. Later Vincent came in and nugdes you, asking when his turn will come.
"You wanna go too? Alright alright don't worry," waiting for Jas to come down, you lift the boy up so that he was seated safely on the chair, "3..2..1 go!"
He wonders if he could just be a little selfish for once.
• Winter: Best man to have in this season. Every morning Diluc would find himself restricted in movements due to a pair of arms around his waist and legs entangled with yours. Turns out you've been doing it subconciously because he's just so warm (Diluc keeps it lowkey and pretends to sleep longer cuz of it)
~~xx~~
Kaeya
• Haha looks like the portal is gone, guess we'll be stuck forever :)). No kidding Kaeya would be so down to stay here for the rest of his life and the best part is to spend it with you. He doesn't show a shred of concern regarding Teyvat, not like he's easily shaken by events that are abnormal, but you can see that Kaeya is truly and genuinely happy. (You're stunned).
• Oho we also have this marvelous landscape just for the two of us? And a cozy little cabin to go along with it as well? This should be fun~ 
• Of course Kaeya would also know a few things about planting, just the basics since he did grow up with Diluc. When they were kids, Crepus would give each of them their own pots so they can grow their own plants. It eventually became a competitive thing where whoever's plant grows the fastest gets to eat the other person's dessert for a year (no one wins. They end up sabotaging each other which Diluc started first, thinking it'll be funny as a joke).
• You are, and will be going on dates with him. In fact, the amount of dates you two went on increased since then. The townspeople would call you two "lovebirds" since he's practically by your side 24/7. 
• I mean he doesn't have the responsibilities as a Cavalry Captain anymore so what else is there to do?
• Would attend all annual events no matter what season. 
• Evelyn constantly gushes how much of a wonderful pair you and Kaeya make and often is the one who provides Kaeya a fresh bouqet of flowers for him to use as a gift. George on the otherhand just rolled his eyes mumbling something along the lines of "youngsters these days" and "crazy hormones."
• Befriends Pam. Love for beer plus somewhat cynical attitude? They get along real swell! She starts sending some recipes into the mailbox of course saying if yall ever need a hand, let her know.
• Spring: I can see Kaeya be switching back and forth between caring for the farm or taking quests posted on Pierre's bulletin board. He likes to keep things interesting, learning the ways of the new world while also getting to know the people around town.
• Would NOT return Mayor Lewis' shorts in which he found in Marnie's room. It's such high quality blackmail material. Kaeya is currently plotting what is the best way to use it to his advantage.
• He didn't tell you of course.
• Summer: There are no blankets because he is your blanket. Since your cabin was small so was the bed. That's why he has to hold you so that no one falls off when rolling over. Either he hugs you with your nose close to his neck, or your back against his chest while spooning you or holding hands if sleeping on your sides became too much. Yall need a serious house upgrade.
• For some reason Kaeya becomes more energetic in the summer. He lets you rest in the shade while handling the farm work for the time being. If you guys got a pet it would be a cat. Hes the first one to refill their bowl every morning outside.
Another day passes as summer comes to an end, the town’s Mayor invited you and your lover to see the annual Dance Of the Moonlight Jellies. Kaeya being the opportunist was delighted to come along. Locking the door of your house, you follow him down the path and made your way to the beach.
Everyone from town was already gathered by the docks when the sun had disappeared down the horizon. You stood by his side in a space far from the others, watching  the candle boats set off to ride the waves, lighting up a small ray of light for creatures to find. 
“Wow,” your tone almost above a whisper, “If only our friends back home could see this too.”
“Perhaps,” he says. Kaeya slips his fingers into yours and you shot him a curious glance, “But let us enjoy this moment shall we? Just the two of us.”
And there they were. A sea of luminescence radiating colours of brilliant blue with hints of green like a city of laterns floating in a world below. Their image reflects in the star of Kaeya's eyes as he wonders, where would they go? Where would the light lead them? They were so free with nothing to worry, so serene just like the sea and unknowningly, he squeezes your hand. It was a sense for confirmation. One to remind him that this moment was indeed a reality he wishes to keep.
Autumn: Finally a house upgrade and a kitchen!! Because it was harvest season, you guys end up making a set of delicious meals with all the recipes the townspeople gave you. Kaeya can cook since he lived by himself back in Mondstadt. Most of the stuff he learned to make were food that can be accompanied by alcohol though...
• Ahah remember Mayor Lewis' lucky shorts? He found a use for them. It was displayed on the stands during the Stardew Valley Fair (Oh my how did this get here? Must be the wind). Ends up buying a Rarecrow for the farm when Lewis bribes him not to tell this to anyone.
Winter: This was mostly an indoor season for the both of you. With the existence of television, nights would be spent until morning while watching movies at the couch. A blanket drapes around your shoulders as extends to his.  Oh and don't forget the hot chocolate! 
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mystic-sky · 4 years ago
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Summary: third-year Gojo’s first kiss with fem reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: mentions of marijuana, sfw aside from teen Gojo ogling at your tiddies.
A/N: I wanted to break from my heavy smut writing with something wholesome and sort of vanilla. Enjoy SSS trio and you on a summer night in August.
It was your second summer together, the summer before everything went to shit. The memory will forever be engraved into you, into Gojo Satoru. Forever engraved into Geto Suguru before his departure, and forever engraved into Ieiri Shoko, who had just discovered her newest infatuation with marijuana.
The moment feels ridiculously more ethereal than how you remember it. Suguru and Satoru snicker as you take your first pull. You’re coughing your lungs out, shoving the blunt back between Suguru’s fingers. He allows his laughter to die down before passing it between his lips (most effortlessly) to inhale.
“Like this,” he holds it for a moment, and releases a puff of the high into your face. Your throat closes and you heave again, squeezing your knees as you hunch over.
“You’ll get used to it,” Shoko says, taking hold of the blunt to take her own pull before passing it to Satoru whose just behind you, sitting on the railing. 
He’s blocking the setting sun, which you were grateful for in a way. You eventually got better at smoking before the thing burnt out, much to everyone’s dismay.
“Get us ice cream, oh handsome, honored one.” Shoko bats her long eyelashes at the snow haired male. She shoves an elbow at your side. You quickly join in.
“Oh dearest honored one, bestow us with snacks to cure the munchies.”
He hops down from the railing, and he’s still taller than the rest of you. “Hmm, say the handsome part again, won’t you? Then, I might consider it.” His sunglasses slide down his nose, and he’s more in your face than Shoko’s, even though you never exaggerated the handsome part specifically.
As nose barely touches nose, you’re a bit flustered by the heat of his body emanating onto yours. It was already hot outside, but you surely felt it.
“I’m the handsome, honored one,” you begin, sliding his sunglasses off of his face and putting them on your own. “And I am going to spoil my friends with ice cream— because I’m the honored one.”
“Cute,” he’s holding an loose, irritated scowl, whirling around and quickly walking up ahead of you lot, earning chuckles from the rest of the group. “Are you guys coming or not?”
“Oh we are, handsome honored one,” Shoko snorts on the handsome part again before cheesing at you. You’re imitating his facial expressions with the shades on— wow these things are pretty cool, you think. And clearly expensive. 
It’s a decent walk to the convenience store now that the sun is down, and no longer scorching the open skin of your back. Him and Suguru are snickering about something like usual, peering back immaturely at you and Shoko. The both of you are unamused, wondering if the two of you should pretend to mumble things about them too, just to rile them up. 
She asks you for your hair tie by whispering in your ear, and you stifle a fake laugh, earning raised eyebrows from the two males. You swiftly pull it off your wrist and hand it to her, watching her stuff what she could of her bob cut into a frazzled ponytail.
Stepping foot into the store was probably the sweetest relief of that night. The coldest air poured down your backs as the door chimed loudly upon entry. You slide the sunglasses up to rest on your head, realizing just how bright the in-store lights actually were.
You and Shoko broke off from the boys to choose what you pleased. She picked up a teen idol magazine as you paced just a few steps ahead. You’re grabbing a few snacks as well, something crunchy to fill whatever it was your stomach was feeling. 
The four of you meet again in the ice cream section, and Satoru doesn’t actually care that you and Shoko have picked out more than just ice cream. He’s got an armful of things you never even tried, so you ask him,
“What’s that? S’it good?” He’s distracted by your breasts being pressed together by full arms of snacks. A single strap of your tank top is falling off one of your shoulders, and it makes his gaze stutter about on your frame. Suguru snaps his fingers behind him, forcing a response from Satoru.
“I’ll let you try some,” the response is quick on his tongue, and he scowls at his dark haired friend who had been mocking him in the back ground about his looming crush on you.
“All you get is chocolate stuff,” Shoko inserts herself between you both, analyzing Satoru’s snacks. “Can I get cigs too?” 
He shrugs. He hardly had any limits on his allowances. Money to him was limitless, and that’s why, especially with his sweet tooth, he had absolutely no discipline. He’s at the register minutes later, with more items in hand than the rest of you. He argues that since its the the last week before the summer ends, who knows when you’ll get another outing like this one. 
You are all back by the pier again, sitting on the railing you aren’t supposed to be sitting on because you could very well fall into the sea. Stomachs full of flavored corn snacks and sweets, the munchies are now gone and you’re all talking about... well, a whole lot of nothing.
Shoko, as seemingly spontaneous as ever, wants to dip her feet in the water. 
“I don’t wanna go alone,” she tugs at Suguru’s side. “Carry me there.”
“What? No.” He’s gnawing unapologetically on a bare popsicle stick. Her eyes plead, the same ones from earlier, and he gives in out of annoyance. The two them walk down the steps to the beach. 
You never asked her if she left you alone with Satoru that night on purpose, or what her goals might’ve been, but an opportunity it was, nonetheless.
“The blue one’s better,” he says simply, sucking on the flavored block of ice.
“Than the red one?” You peered at your own popsicle. “I guess it’s up to preference.” 
Your mouth pops off of the tip loudly before you suck again. He wishes you didn’t make it look so lewd.
You ogle at the box of flavors, the rest of them would surely melt by the time you all got back to the school. You turn your head back to feel white hair graze against your arm. He invites himself to taste your popsicle, prompting hard blushes from you. He imitates the loud pop you made just before. 
“Blue is still better,” he smirks at your sudden discomfort. He’s somewhat at eye level with you, and you swallow hard. He’s always flirting with you, messing with you— trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. 
“Just cause you bought it for me doesn’t mean you can invite yourself to taste it whenever you want.” You bring the pop to your lips and suck softly, looking directly at him. He’s blushing now too, but he tries so hard to hide it. He’s stuck on the way that you’re barely shy about it. You’re not telling him to back up like you usually would. Your eyes are sparkling as bright as they’re able with barely any sun left on the horizon.
“Your mouth’s blue,” you break him from his sultry thoughts. He licks his lips, feeling somewhat embarrassed about it.
“Yours is red,” he deflects, he’s definitely not prepared at all for what you say next.
“If we kiss, our lips are gonna be purple,” He’s all for it, but he’s still surprised when your cold lips entwine with his. It’s a sweet taste, but the feeling of the kiss is a cross between sticky and numb. Suddenly, some warmth blooms in the center of it, and you feel each other entirely. Your tongue doesn’t feel like he thought it would, but at least he knows why. You pull away, wrapping your mouth around your pop, nonchalant as ever.
“You’re just always in my face like you wanna kiss me,” you shrug, you’re analyzing him subtly through the corner of your eye. His expression is sort of deer-like. He’s always wanted to kiss you, yeah. Did he think it was going to happen like that? Not exactly. 
“Cause,” the response is seconds late, “I do.” 
He’s not so shy anymore, closing the space between your bodies.
“So just do it,” you look up at him, and his eyes are glimmering at you. He presses his lips to yours, warming them again against your soft and pillowy flesh. A sweet sound pours through his mouth, one he didn’t know you were capable of making. He wondered if all girls tasted this sweet— with the exception of the ice cream. You kissed him back so bashfully, despite your seemingly assertive personality before hand.
The kiss lasts longer than you both realize, prompting sticky ice cream to dribble down both your arms but neither of you care that much. 
Your wet mouths part, and surely there’s a bit of blue on your lips as much as there is red on his. You find yourself looking away from his piercing blue gaze, trying not to draw attention to the blush painting your face. 
“There isn’t anything to wipe my arm up with is there,” you mutter, watching the red juice slither down your arm. You’re tempted to lick it up to prevent it from traveling further but Satoru speaks again.
“We could go rinse our hands by the fountains if you want,” he says, cracking a goofy grin.
“That sounds like a good idea,” you look towards him. “Why are you smiling like that?”
He chuckles lightly as the fingers on his cleaner hand find your face, smooshing your cheeks inward and puckering your lips. “Well would you look at that,” he grins again.
“They definitely are purple.”
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thegremlincrowsnest · 4 years ago
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Beauty and the Beast
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Another Collab with Citrus Dome! Please check out the rest of the amazing first made in the Storybook/Fairytale AU Collab
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
The beautiful individual is: @/aneutrallife on instagram
CW: mothman, mentions of pussy, mentions of ovi, monster fucking,
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Only a Beast could love something like you.
That was something you were told since you were small. 
You were always the odd one in the town you lived in. 
Different. 
Obscure. 
An Anomaly.
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All because you were a witch. You had always been intrigued by the usage of herbs and crystals. Cartomancy was a specialty, and you were known for your creation of oils and ointments. The townspeople avoided you and only asked for your services in secret. It began to take its toll on you as you grew older. 
Feeling ostracized and wanting to be forgotten. 
But that was when He found you. 
Apparently, he’d been watching you for some time now, and on that cold fall night, he decided to make his move. You were out in the woods, collecting ingredients you needed to refill on. You ended up finding yourself in the garden of what seemed like an abandoned castle. You were curious about how such a great place could be hidden since you knew the royals lived quite a ways away. Nevertheless, you took your time as you gently tended to the plants. Taking what you needed but still making sure the plants will grow healthy. You froze in place when you heard the crunch of leaves under large feet. You slowly placed a hand on the scissors you used to trim the plants. Turning slowly, to looked up to see a sizeable form towering over you. Covered in dark brown and black fur with light stripes of soft blue. Two sets of rather strong-looking arms were folded across its chest and abdomen. His wings draped over its shoulders like a cloak, but you couldn’t get a good look at the intricate designs of the wings. Your eyes were locked onto his face. His face was worn and scarred, locks of light blue hair cascaded down his head like spun silver. 
“I knew you’d find your way here, human. I would be angry if I wasn’t already intrigued by you,” he said. You were taken aback by its rather deep raspy voice as it held out a hand for you. Grabbing it tenderly, you stood, only coming up to his chest. With one set of hands, he held your face to look up at him. Enamored by the scarlet eyes looking back at you, you were surprised when a pair of fluffy antennae brushed against your face. “Yes. I knew it was you.” He said as he lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into the castle. 
On that day, you had met the beast known as Tomura Shigaraki and started your new life. 
He had apparently been watching you for a few months before then. He had been exploring the forest and came upon you helping a small fawn out of a trap, tending to its wounds before letting it free. He thought you were a curious one, not at all like the other humans in the town. You were sweet and soft, treating them all with a level of care he felt they did not deserve. The day he knew he wanted you for himself was when he had accidentally stumbled upon you bathing at the waterfall further into the forest. 
He could recount how you looked as if it was that same day. 
Your skin an ochre color, similar to the mellow-brown light that had bathed the forest that warm afternoon. You glimmered like amber, and he could only kneel in the brush near the bank or else his knees would give. You were absolutely beautiful. Your hair was thick and dark like calla lilies, curls framed your freckled face, and oh,  what he would give to be able to kiss every freckle. Climbing out from the river, you dried yourself off, and he thanked every god above for the sight of your dripping from panting and sighing from how relaxing your bathing was. 
He jerked off to the memory of that day for many moons after until the fateful day you wandered into his territory. 
That was about a year ago, and since then, you two had become close. Hesitant at first, you were terrified you were to be devoured. Hearing terrifying stories about the beast since childhood. But over time, you learned that he was a gentle creature, he had a temper, yes, but you stood your ground. Slowly you were able to coax more out of him, his family, and how he ended up like this. It had turned out he was the son of the king that ruled over your land. His father had challenged a powerful fairy who cursed his mother to giving birth to a monster. Though his parents did love him, and when his younger brother was born, the love did not falter. They had to send him away. The townspeople and some of the aristocrats did not like the idea of a beast being king. 
You wanted to challenge it; King Toshinori would never do something...would he? You knew how the townspeople treated you, and while you weren’t a monster, you wouldn’t be surprised if they rioted. 
You two had slowly started to bond, Tomu, as you affectionately called him, was intrigued by the herbs and crystals you gathered and used. He never forced you to stay with him, but you liked the idea of living with someone who wanted you to around. You told him you could find a way to reverse the spell and make him human, as a way of saying thank you for letting you stay in his castle, but he refused. Saying he would rather die than try to assimilate to their standards. You were silently happy he had refused. 
You started to fall for him at that time and couldn’t imagine him without his extra appendages. Especially his wings, when spread out, you could see the intricate patterns on them. A mix of light browns, black, and specks of blue as bright as lapis lazuli decorated them. Although his eye held no pupils or irises, you could see the emotions they expressed. How they softened whenever he thought you weren’t looking or how they darkened when you would wear something more revealing. His eyes would glimmer like rubies whenever you praised him or showered him in affection. 
You two had been together for two years at this point; you cleaned out your house and moved in with him. Not surprised when you saw that the townspeople burned it to the ground when they noticed you left. You did not cry, no sight of anger in your face, but you felt hurt nonetheless. You sat at the windowsill, looking out at the forest while the summer sun shined brightly. Tomura had noticed and went to make your favorite tea; you had followed him, however, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his back. “Y/n? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. You nodded silently; he turned and let you nuzzle your face into his pecks. One set of hands lifted your face up, with the other set wrapped protectively around your waist. His eyes softened at the sad expression you held. Brushing one clawed thumb against your cheek as he smiled softly. “I...Wanted to wait until the full moon to ask you this, but...I feel this might be better.” He started, your eyebrows furrowed together as he continued. “I would...like to mate with you, Y/N.” He stated with the softest of a blush, dusting his cheeks. Your face warmed as you processed what he was telling you. 
That night you both prepared. Well. It was more, so Tomura prepared you. He put you in a bath of milk and rose petals, rinsing your hair like you had shown him before going to prepare the ‘nest’ as he called it. Bringing in sheets and pillows, sweet-smelling oils and cloths he felt were soft enough. Bringing you out of the bath, he dried you off and brought you to the nest, laying you onto your back. He couldn’t help but get lost in your beauty; your dark hair framed your face as he let his eyes linger. Your full chest and thighs, wide hips, and soft squishy stomach made his wings vibrate. He chirped and purred as he nuzzled you, letting his hands gently caressing your hips. “Sweet-smelling mate, so soft, so good to me.” He said as he moved your legs apart to allow him to settle in between them. You moaned softly, feeling his claws brush against your skin. He kissed and licked down your neck, pausing to suckle on your full breast as he felt his cock unsheath. His long thin tongue wrapped itself around your nipple, stroking it gently as he brought a hand up to your other nipple. The room slowly started filling with a sweet scent; it filled your nose and made your core ache with arousal.
 Tomura continued to kiss down your body until he reached your core, kissing your mound, and before he could go lower, you tugged at his hair. 
Your face was hidden behind your arm; you softly said, “I…. I don’t like my pussy being licked…” 
He nods and smiles empathetically. Deciding to suck on his fingers gently before sliding one thick finger into your entrance, mesmerized by how your hole quivered and stretched. He went at this for what seemed like hours. 
Adding another finger and another until he felt you were prepared for his cock. Sitting up, he stroked himself to your form, yes glazed over and skin hot to the touch. You could only stare in amazement at how large he was. His cock was like no humans you’d ever seen, ribbed down the underside, the tip pointed more like a dog than anything. “Tomu...You’re so big.”You said as you gently reached out to stroke it. He smiled proudly at how your reaction. Pushing you back down, he gently wrapped your legs around his waist. Pressing the head of his cock gently into your entrance, he held back a whimper at how wet and wanting you were. Your entrance sucked him in, almost refusing to let him go if he pulled back. Finally, he was able to press his hips against yours. His cock head pressed snuggly against the entrance of your cervix as your back arches, your nails dig into his shoulders. He whines and ruts against your cervix for a moment before pulling back, beginning a slow rhythm. Now it’s your turn to moan as you beg for him to go faster.
“Do you think you could handle it, little one?” he asks as he looks down at you. You nod and plead, begging for more as you rub your clit. “Then your wish is my command, my prince~,” He says as he begins to thrust faster, pushing your thighs back as his nails dig into them; his wings spread and flap as he feels himself grow closer to completion. His soft whimpers turn into snarls and growls as he pounds into you. Flipping you over, he holds you close to his chest; one set of arms hold you up by your thighs as the other focuses on your body. One hand grips your throat while the other plays with your clit. Thrusting up into you, he can’t stop the stream of praises. 
“Such a pretty boy, so soft and sweet. Look at how well you’re taking my cock. I can’t wait to see how you look filled with my eggs.”
His hips stutter, and he holds you in place; you feel his cock pulse as he fills your hungry womb with his cum. You howl and moan out as you squirt, legs shivering as you look down to see his cum drip down his cock. Whimpering softly, you felt him purr in content; he nuzzles into your neck as he lays down with you. Cock still pressed firmly into you as you both slowly fall asleep. Entangled in each other.
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