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mystic-writings · 6 months

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remember the nights | chapter eight — saturday

WORD COUNT — 1,967

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — GUYS THIS IS IT!! THE KICKOFF FOR THE ARC

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Your thoughts have been entirely scrambled since your trip to New York city. Even though it’s been an entire week, the ecstasy of seeing your friends again, of sharing your favorite parts of the city with Newt, still lingered.

Despite it, you were happy to return to your normal life again. The Monday after the trip, a two week long group assignment was assigned in your photography class. It wasn’t anything too difficult, just a portfolio of three types of photography containing a small explanatory paragraph and two pictures for each photography type, all taken and edited by yourself and a partner — who had been chosen for everyone by Ms. Porter. Almost coincidentally, your assigned partner was Sonya.

This particular assignment led you to today. For a while, you’d been working with Sonya on the assignment; taking the photos you wanted after school and working on them the next day during class. You’d agreed to go to her house today in order to compile whatever else you needed to finish off the assignment before its Tuesday due date.

You stood on the porch of Newt and Sonya’s barn-style home, admiring it as you knocked on the door and awaited a response.

Within seconds, Sonya pulled the door open with a bright smile and beckoned you inside.

Stepping inside the quiet home, you noticed its similar layout to Brenda’s house, though it was much smaller. The nook that held Brenda's bookcase had been knocked down and was a pseudo art studio, with an easel and canvases and floating shelves to hold art supplies, not to mention the newspapers covering the floor to protect the hardwood.

“We have the whole house to ourselves,” Sonya told you as you took in the home, walking over to the living room. “Mom’s on shift until 7, and Newt probably won’t be awake for a few hours, either.”

You nodded, admiring the artwork covering the lovely blue walls. You almost forgot that their mother was a nurse at the hospital on the other side of town, but neither of the siblings talked about it much. But you weren’t surprised that Newt was still asleep — Thomas had mentioned several times that Newt’s sleeping habits were anything but regular, and were the main reason he didn’t hang out with people until late afternoon on weekends and holidays.

As you sat down on the comfortable, worn couch and placed your bag by your feet, you glanced back at the art studio, before looking at Sonya as she came to stand to your left. “Is that yours?”

She glanced over at the area and laughed. “God, I wish. I’m more of a sketch and photography person. That’s my moms art.”

“That’s nice,” you said, “it runs in the family, then? The art stuff,”

“Yeah, she usually paints there after work if she feels up to it, sometimes she takes a commission or two to make extra cash. Pretty much everything hung up in the house is hers, or it’s something her friends overseas have sent her.”

You nodded, taking in everything again. “Is she why you’re so into art?”

“Yeah, actually, she is,” Sonya nodded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I always wanted to paint with her when I was young, and she got me a sketchbook one year for Christmas and that was it. Another year, not long after we moved here, I got a camera for my birthday. It’s nice to share that with her, y’know?”

You looked up at the girl and smiled, “Yeah, I do. My mom tried to teach me ballet as a kid, but I didn’t quite inherit her grace or balance, so…”

Sonya chuckled, standing as she told you she’d grab her backpack and a few snacks for you both to eat while you worked. While she was gone, you slipped your laptop from your bag, cracking it open and loading up the assignment document. Sonya came back in as you slid the laptop onto the coffee table, juggling two bowls of fruit, laptop tucked under one arm and two water bottles cradled in the other.

Noticing her visible struggle, you stood and took the bottles and a bowl of fruit from her grasp, allowing her to grab her laptop and take her place to your right, the second bowl of fruit landing on the coffee table.

Sonya snagged a piece as she opened her own laptop, and you opened and sipped on one of the water bottles before you decided to dive into what was left of the project. “I was thinking that you’d do the paragraphs and I’d go through and choose what photos we should use, and then we’ll edit everything together to make sure it sounds good enough?”

You nodded, opening the Google Drive that you’d put all the photos in. “Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll add you to the document so you can put the photos there when you’ve got them figured out.”

Since you’d also required a bit of extra research for the paragraph part of the assignment, you and Sonya spent the better part of an hour on just that section of the assignment. The nature photography paragraph was a breeze; but the other two seemed to be the worst types of photography you could have ever chosen.

As you compiled the final bullet points for the third paragraph, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, catching yours and Sonya’s attention as you both leaned against the back of the couch.

Newt thumped down the stairs with little care, wearing a plain white shirt that was so worn and faded that it barely counted as white anymore, and slightly oversized blue plaid pajama pants that pooled at his feet. You could see indents on his arm and cheek from the way he’d slept, and his hair was entirely untamed, sticking up every which way, as though gravity had no effect on it. His face was scrunched up, eyes still adjusting to daylight, and he scratched lazily at his scalp as he reached the first floor, shuffling into the kitchen, where he grabbed a cereal box from the counter and began pulling out small handfuls, shoving them into his mouth without care.

You bit back a laugh as he carried the box outside the kitchen, likely wanting to make his way back upstairs. There was no denying that, even though you were sure there was absolutely no way anyone could look cute after waking up, Newt somehow managed to. The thought caught you off guard, and you did your best to calm the burning that stung your cheeks and neck.

Sonya, with an entire mischievous look on her face, called out, “Nice to see you’ve woken from your coma, prince charming.”

Newt jumped, the cereal rattling in the box as it almost got sent flying from his palm across the hardwood. He scowled, “Bloody hell, Sonya! What that hell is wrong—” Newt’s eyes locked onto yours, his face falling as you smiled at him.

Lifting a hand, you waved at the boy. “Hey,”

He blinked. “Sorry, uh— what are you doing here, exactly?”

“Group project,” Sonya responded. “I told you about it yesterday on the way home?”

“Yeah but I thought that wasn’t until later,”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. “Newt, it’s like, 1 o’clock.”

“Oh,” the boy nodded simply before turning and heading up the stairs.

You turned back to your computer, as did Sonya, your original train of thought completely lost. Newt’s departure seemed to only make things worse, because without his presence, your mind was invaded with thoughts about his appearance, about how you’d thought how cute he was — about how you still thought he was cute. It ran in circles, bouncing from what had just happened to the conversation you’d had with your friends the week before.

“Y/n?” Sonya snapped you back to the present.

“Sorry, what?”

The blonde girl laughed. “I said, we’re basically done. I can edit everything from here. You can go home if you want, I’ll text you when it’s done, so we can submit it together on Classroom.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

As you packed up your laptop, Sonya furrowed her eyebrows at you. “Are you okay? You zoned out for the last little bit, there.”

You nodded, slipping your laptop into your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking. Lotta stuff to do when I get home, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but feel bad about lying to Sonya, even if it was practically minuscule. You’d been getting quite close to her over the weeks, and you knew how much she cared about her friends, but there was just no way you were going to tell her that you’d been thinking about how cute you thought her brother was for who knows long, let alone what your friends had told you in New York.

You helped the girl put the bowls of fruit back in the fridge, grabbed the water bottle she’d given you, and slung your bag over your shoulder. She led you back to the door, and you said your goodbyes, heading down the driveway and putting your headphones in.

The walk home wasn’t too long, but it was filled with welcome distractions. The sounds of your favorite songs playing through your headphones, the beauty of the small town, and the slight chill of the cooling air that came with New York Octobers.

Upon your arrival home, you found the house unsurprisingly empty. Maggie and your dad went to the city for the weekend to finalize wedding plans while your dad had a meeting in town, and Thomas was with Minho and Gally, who would likely later be joined by Newt. After a quick check in on Chuck, you found him immersed in a video game and decided not to interrupt him until you were deciding on what to make for dinner.

Since you were in the clear to do virtually nothing for the next few hours, you rushed upstairs and into your room, dropping your bag by your desk and closing your bedroom door, releasing a heavy sigh as you rested your forehead on the wood. All your mind could focus on were the thoughts of Newt, and it was beginning to overwhelm you. It recalled every single detail you had committed to memory about the blond since you’d met in the parking lot — every word spoken, every inflection in his voice, every gesture he’s made, big or small.

You wondered why he would go through such trouble to arrange just an afternoon of time with your friends, taking you to see them, spending time with them, when you knew that he much preferred sleeping until noon on the weekends.

You thought about his hair, about how perfect you always thought it looked, even in the state you’d seen it in earlier.

You thought about his voice, about the cadence and how it had a sort of gruffness to it; how it always soothed you.

You thought about his eyes, how dark they were, but how beautiful they were under the sunlight. About how much he seemed to care about everyone, about how much he did for everyone.

You thought about everything you knew about him, physical or emotional. How he could be so open and honest with you despite not knowing you for very long. About everything he’d gone through with his father and still came through it stronger.

You thought about how he managed to make you feel as happy as you were before your mom died without thinking, without trying. How you felt as close to him as you used to feel with your mom, about how he was just so — oh.

Oh.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

#remember the nights #newt x reader #newt tmr x reader #newt x you #newt x y/n #newt series #newt tmr series #newt fluff #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner x reader #au fic #high school au

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saltydkdan · 1 year

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Pleasant tidings Salty, here to say your iceberg videos where one of the main things that actually got into jojo’s, incredible series, and now i’m caught up on everything i’d be interested to hear your opinion on (as a ultra based jojoer) the end of JoJolion. Personally i loved it, from the connections to part 7 and Gappy’s development through the part, but i know some people found it rushed or confusing, and i’m wondering what your thoughts were?

(ignore the fact i’m a dead weezer gimmick blog)

I’m EXTREMELY MIXED on Jojolion. There’s a lot I love, but also a lot I dislike.

WARNING: JOJO RAMBLE INCOMING

My opinion is very fresh, as I dropped off of modern Jojo back in college. It was only recently that I decided to finally catch back up, and do a weekly book club for Jojolion with a few friends.

My personal recommendation for reading it:

Do it weekly with other friends if possible. Have discussions with them about it. There is so much that I either didn’t pick up on while reading, or completely didn’t register at the time. And trying to extrapolate what Araki was trying to say with his story was very fun. It’s clear he tried to pack a LOT into every chapter. Which has it’s pros and cons. Binge reading doesn’t hit the same for me for Jojolion. I gained a far bigger appreciation reading in batches with other fans :)

The way I like to think about it, is that it had the ingredients, but I feel like the cake didn’t come out right. Although it tastes just as delicious as I would have wanted.

I just feel like Jojolion had a bit too many moving parts that even Araki couldn’t keep track of. There’s plenty of early Jojolion stuff that feels very tonally different with later Jojolion stuff. It’s clear that Araki had to course correct and change the plot several times throughout it’s run. And it’s because of Jojolion that I just feel like Jojo isn’t built for longer stories/publication. I think its length caused a lot of issues long term. It’s because of how long it took to make that there seems to be much more room for Araki to have second thoughts, or flat out change his mind on the story several times. (Josefumi having the Joestar birthmark and having it later removed in the volume releases, the characterization of Norisuke, etc)

Plenty of things go outright unexplained or elaborated on. I know it’s parroted a lot, but the “Flashback Man” from the first arc is the biggest example of this issue. If I had more time I’m sure I could type up a more definite list (how the Wall Eyes work is another example, as well as why the fuck Josuke and Kei Ninimura never really interacted past her stand fight, given that they are siblings and JOSUKE IS LITERALLY SEARCHING FOR FAMILY. HE LITERALLY SAYS THAT HE “HAS NO ONE” MULTIPLE TIMES LIKE, BRO, TALK TO YOUR SIBLING)

Now, I’m not saying that EVERYTHING needs explanation, but for 70% of the story, Jojolion posits itself as a MYSTERY. So to have so many pieces of that be unaddressed just feels… strange.

I also just feel like Jojolion has SO MANY AMAZING IDEAS, and has plenty of time to explore them and just… doesn’t.

Tooru is an incredible villain, probably one of my favorites in the entire series, but his presence in the story is soured because of how late he’s introduced into the plot. He’s amazing, but he feels like a very last minute inclusion, especially when Araki wants us to believe that he was totally a part of Yasuho’s life before and we’ve never even heard a rumbling of that before.

Anyway that’s enough complaining, let me hush about what I love about it real quick.

This is the case with everything he writes, but when Araki nails it with Jojolion he REALLY nails it. The Vitamin C arc is incredible, and ties Josuke’s story together so well and has some incredible lore drops. Not to mention that I think that Jojolion has some of his best written characters. Yasuho is one of the most deep and complex female characters in the entire series (didn’t stop Araki from writing that she gets sexually assaulted once or twice, but that’s just an issue I have with his writing overall)

He also goes really strange with the stands and designs, and I love it so much. When Araki gets weird, he really goes wild, it’s crazy fun. Blue Hawaii is such a fantastic arc, and really highlights his mastery of art and choreography in manga. Josuke’s combat is the best in the series imho.

And although the final arc stumbles in a few places, Wonder of U sticks the landing for me regardless, and in a way that didn’t feel cheap. Araki has come a long way from him writing that “Star Platinum can ALSO stop time”

At first, I thought that Josuke gaining the power of the spin last minute was cheap. However the more I reflected on it, the more it made sense. It isn’t outright confirmed, but I feel like Johnny’s spin was passed down to Josuke through his fusion in the wall eyes. Much like how Autumn Leaves absorbed some power from Johnny’s spin, I think that Josuke being in the wall eyes allowed him to absorb the power in the same way. I can’t tell if that was Araki’s intent, but if it was, dude is a genius. It makes complete sense, and in a roundabout way, directly connects Johnny and Josuke in a final battle.

Anyway yeah, I’ll stop the rambling here.

Believe me, I could go on for hours about Jojolion, and especially Jojo in general. I have so many things I can gush and complain about, it’s why I love it so much.

So yeah, I’m mixed on Jojolion, but overall I enjoy it a lot!!

#saltydkdan #salty asks #jojos bizarre adventure

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hoshi-y · 2 years

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WAIT I DIDNT KNOW YOU ADDED SUMIRE 🥹💖 I KNOW I MADE A REQUEST BUT IGNORE IT (so sorry 😭) Can I request Sumire, Kou, Mitsuba, and Yashiro (hopefully that’s not too much) with a S/O that’s like Power?

(Take your time and have a nice day/night ^^)

S/O that acts like Power from Chainsaw Man

Genre : Fluff

Characters : Akane Sumire, Minamoto Kou, Mitsuba Sousuke, Yashiro Nene

TW : None

A/N : So sorry that it took me awhile to make your request, I tend to avoid things that are a bit difficult for me hehe, I could tell you really wanted me to do your request already so here it is

Just a bit of a warning, I can't guarantee that the personality and attitude will be the same but I'll try my best

I hope you enjoy 💗

Powers Personality :

Childish

Greedy

Rude

Entirely self-motivated

Cares for a select of friends

Has severe PTSD (Afraid of being alone)

Feels that people should clean up after her

Often claims she is capable of doing things she cannot actually do

No problem with gossiping and talking about her friends behind their back

Compulsive habitual liar

That's all the info I can find about her personality

Liar liar pants on fire

You were an absolute HANDFUL to watch over.

You'd sometimes run away creating minor trouble

I mean you blew up the science lab I don't know where minor came from.....

In your excuse, you thought you could do it—

After you met Kou, your life just turned a full 180

He would follow you everywhere

Making sure you don't get hurt

But mostly to keep you out of trouble

It was driving you nuts! You couldn't skip class to chase butterflies anymore

It was hard since both of you were in the same year

But you did found out something about him

He was very gullible.

You grumbled as Kou was pulling you back to his and his friends lair, it wasn't too bad around them, you just didn't wanna help clean up that stinky bathroom—

You had to escape. And fast

"Koouuu... I don't like it in theerree.." You whined, He didn't budge which made you click your tongue. And an idea came to mind.

"Kou, I just got a text from my mom saying that.. My dog died.." You put up your best sad acting in hopes he would fall for it, and he did. He stopped in his tracks as he looked back at you "What?! Toshiba died?!"

Kou absolutely LOVED your pet dog, he would use all types of excuses to swing by

You nodded your head sadly "Mom wants me back home so we can bury him.." Kou gently let go of your hand as he sighef softly "I'll swing by to say my goodbyes to Toshiba.." As soon as he gave your backpack back, you had a cheeky smile on your face

"Thanks!! Bye!!" You ran

"H-HEY. GET BACK HERE!!"

You were too fast for Kou, eventually he just gave up. He has to stop being so gullible

Ugh how dare you call me ugly!

Everyone envied you for your clear ang glowing skin

Anyone would need sunglasses it was that clear

Everyone wanted your secret but you didn't budge

Why? well you just wanted to be the only one with fair skin

Amongst those in tge ctowd wanting your skincare routine

A pink haired gentleman also wanted a grasp at your secret

I mean how can he keep being cute with such flaky skin?!

So he pulled you aside to ask but you were a bit too hard headed

Mitsuba groaned as he held on your arm "Come on! Just one product that you use and I won't bother you anymore!" He begged but you went silent pretending he wasn't there

"HEY. I KNOW YOUR IGNORING ME" Mitsuba yelled

You checked your phone time and continued to pretend he wasn't there. "What about this, I'll buy you WHATEVER you want, for just one product"

"Mud"

"Mud Mask?!" His face lightened up as he was probably the first you told your super secret fbi skincare

"Yeah, its good for the pigs skin after all"

Mitsuba gasped "How DARE you call me a pig! Look at yourself first skeleton!" He fired back

"Oh yeah Barbie?"

Mitsuba didn't wanna back down as he soat all sort of names at you

But you won, obviously

He pushed you out of their classroom as Kou, Satou and Yokoo witnessed the entire thing.

We're you grown on soil?

When Yashiro first met you, her first impression of you was that you were pretty Childish

Not that she hated it, She absolutely adored it

For.... some odd reason....

The way you act and talk like a child

You were so cute in her eyes!

but of course we know that every child is super curious of things right?

Well you started asking a bunch of nonsense to Yashiro

Like, how do fish swim, how do cars work

"Does tinkerbell exist?" Stuff like that

She sometimes questions how you got in the Rank 3....

"Nene-chaann~" You cooed as she stopped shoveling and looked at you "Uwaahh [F/N]! I thought you went home already?" She dropped her shovel and took off her gloved and walked up to you

"I got you an Ice Pop!" You gave her the green colored one as you ate the purple one "Thanks [F/N]! I was needing something to cool me down"

You scanned the field and noticed a bunch if holes she was digging, what was she gonna do? was she gonna plant? look for worms? DIG TO ANOTHER COUNTRY?

Or... Is she gonna plant her legs?

"Nene-chan, are you gonna plant your legs in their?" Yashiro coughed as she almost dropped her ice pop "W-WHAT?! I-I'M NOT!!"

"Ehh?? Isn't that how you got your daikon legs?"

Yashiro crumbled on the spot as she looked like she was needing any god out there to take her

After that, Yashiro forced you to go home as you watched her sulk from afar

I can do it see?! ahh.. Nevermind...

Sumire always enjoyed your company, and your help

Despite you fucking up every now and then she appriciates the company

Sometimes she'd tell you not to force yourself to do something you couldn't do but you never listen

Your excuse??

"I can do it don't worry! I'm a pro at this"

You ended almost burning the food, or knocking down something

So she just lets you stay back at home

You were one of Sumire's servants, although she didn't treat you like a servant

She treated you more like a friend now.

Sumire and Hakubo watched from a far as you messed up picking up flowers. You were pulling them by the stem and not digging to get the roots and ended up having a very withered out flower

"Are they dumb?..." Hakubo deadpanned as you continued to pluck withered out flowers, Sumire giggled as she placed down her tea cup and walked up to you to help

You saw her from the corner of your eyes walking up to you but you were signaling her not to come, but she did anyways. "Your flowers are withered now [L/N]"

You pouted "I said I could do it.."

"You clearly can not, here let me teach you how to harvest flowers" Sumire smiled at you

For the rest of the afternoon, she taught you how to pick up flowers, and make flower crowns. You've mastered them by now with the guidance of Sumire.

Now that she's gone, the only thing you could do without messing up

Was making flower crowns.

I caved

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭😭, I also apologize if I the personality does not match up, I really dunno who Power is LMWODHWUD

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #tbhk x reader #jshk #tbhk #Yashiro Nene #mistuba sousuke #kou minamoto #sumire akane

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hearteyedbunny · 9 months

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you mentioned an oc, Thatcher, in your tags on an oc prompt post. who's he?

these tags??

oh Thatcher. oh my sweet boy. he is most definitely "always having a bad time, all the time". LMFAO.

his name is Thatcher Black! he's a priest, in his early thirties and dedicated to his job and community. he's a very, very honest and kind man, he would do anything for anyone if they asked. he's devout to his religion and tries to use it in a way to better the world, not tear it down. that being said, he also struggles with putting himself first and standing up for himself because of it.

well. an angel named Abaddon (or Abby) is sent to earth to be his sort of... guardian angel. except they are incredibly bad at their job. I'm still working on their story, but they are using Thatcher to regain their status as a high ranking angel after being cast out because of...previous activities on earth not going as planned. I don't want to type too much, but just know Abby is not a good person and cares little for the people (especially humans) they hurt along the way of achieving their goal. they are just here to have a good time.

so! long story short, the two meet and Thatcher's entire world view is shaken to its core. sure, angels are real apparently, but there is no singular all mighty "God" that he preaches about, only several different deities running different aspects of the world, and the angels that work under them. all of his views are wrong, everything he preaches about is wrong, the book he runs his life by is wrong. he feels like a fraud, but tries to continue his life as normally as he can despite being shaken to his core. and on top of everything else he now has to deal with this angel taking up space in his life. and apartment.

their story is a bit long but Abby gets him into many a precarious and dangerous situation. Thatcher slowly unravels as they spend more time together, him falling in love with Abby being his absolute downfall and being the thing that ends up killing him. I haven't decided if his death is the "canon" ending, but it feels fitting for a man who loses himself and intertwines his life with such a dangerous otherworldly being.

SORRY THAT GOT LONG! him and Abby's stories are intertwined so I can't have one without the other. I should have just said Thatcher is Abby's punching bag and been done with it haha. Thatch is never having a good day ever in his life. but at least he gets to kiss a beautiful angel.

unfinished art of them for your viewing pleasure

#inbox #oc tag #ty so much for asking I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY OCS !!#ive had these two for FOREVER but their story is always being tweaked #ty to anyone who read this btw wahh

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starryeyedreviews · 1 year

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BIRTH - Full Review

Author’s note: My first review! Though I’d gotten this game a few months ago on my birthday (hehe), I thought it’d be a fun game to start this blog with because, well, the name, and also it’s not as popular as I feel it should be! Enjoy :)

Birth is a game about, quite literally, making a friend. In this point-and-click/puzzle game, you look for spare organs and bones to assemble this friend by solving puzzles and exploring a gorgeous hand-drawn macabre world. I don’t use the word “macabre” lightly — nearly every scene contains hints of decay like bones, severed body parts, running insects and rotting corpses. They are admittedly some of the loveliest depictions I’ve seen of those concepts, but if that’s really not for you, this game may not be as great an experience.

There are a variety of settings in this little city, from bookstores and bakeries, museums and restaurants, to the individual rooms in apartment complexes. There’s a beautiful irony to be had, that a place painted with death could be bursting with such life. Madison Karrh, Birth’s developer, seems to have put a lot of love into each scene, giving the NPCs and rooms their own bits of charm and personality. It’s really the little details that make the game a joy to play. ✨

Onto the gameplay itself! As a puzzle-lover myself, I didn’t find the puzzles very difficult, though sometimes I was a bit confused on what I was supposed to be solving in the first place. For the most part though, they were very calming to go through. Interacting with objects in the world was easy as well, since they would move as you hover your mouse over them. Unfortunately, as with many games of this genre, it lacks replayability, since the entire game has just one solution. There isn’t much I can say about Birth’s story, because there isn’t really one. There’s just the main premise (building a friend), and the journey towards it. But that’s okay! Like I said, the joy really comes from immersing yourself in the world, even if only for a couple of hours.

That being said, Birth is kind of a short game. I was able to 100% it in less than 2 hours, which, sadly, has led a lot of people to refund it after beating it. The game is a tad pricey ($10.99 on Steam) for its length, so if you’re running a little low on funds, I’d suggest waiting for it to go on sale. Or, if you want to keep scratching the itch Birth gives, Madison’s other games are either very cheap or free, and have the same type of gameplay and eerie humor! I’ll link them as well below. 🌠

Though simple in story and theory, Birth is undoubtedly a piece of art. It shows us the beauty in the process of life and death… and perhaps life again? Its morbid yet quaint style definitely sets it apart from other wholesome games, but I’d definitely consider it one regardless. I’m now excited for any other games Madison will put out, and hope she keeps them this wonderfully unique each time. 💫

Overall, 4 stars out of 5! ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Buy Birth on Steam here! Check out Madison Karrh’s other games here!

If you have any questions/suggestions for me, please let me know! My asks are always open ✨

~ Gabi 🌙

#starryeyedreviews #game review #cozy games #puzzle games #madison karrh #birth game #birth #point and click #macabre #dark aesthetic #indie games #creepy cute

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artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

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OC Kiss Week Day 5: Night

WIP: Darkspace Portent series Pairing: Thrive x Warren Timeline: Honestly? No idea. CW: none? Rating: T Words: 1,136

***

Warren sat down on the edge of the cliff next to Thrive, resting his feet on top of the stairs carved into the rock face leading down to the beach. The chilled Tournaltis breeze ruffled through their hair, and Warren hugged himself to ward off the initial intensity of the nightly temperature drop.

"How is it that we almost always find ourselves alone during Skywaste concerts?"

Thrive looked at him, amused. "I've often wondered the same thing. There may be something subliminally aphrodisiacal about their music."

"Oh, shit, comin' in hot with the big, sexy words." Warren sighed, his breath escaping in a fog that carried itself away into the deep ink of the sky. "You doing okay?"

"I am." Thrive turned his attention back to the desert lights surfing against the wind over the shore, their glowing reflections causing glitter on the choppy ocean. Skywaste's music from the stage farther inland behind him and Warren echoed across the void, braided with the sounds of their enthusiastic audience. "I'm enjoying myself, but I needed space."

"I get it. Am I intruding?"

Thrive smiled warmly at him. "Never, th'saiya. I do worry that you're anxious about being so close to the edge of the cliff, however."

Warren shook his head. "It's terrifying, but…honestly, I never feel safer than when I'm with you."

Thrive watched him for a few seconds, then reached over to push some of Warren's hair away from his forehead, finishing the gesture with a sweep of his knuckle across his cheekbone.

Warren slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I ever tell you how much I love you?"

"Not a single moment of your life."

"Yeah?" Warren tipped his head back. "That's cool. Why start now?"

Thrive's smile turned mischievous.

"I will say, though," Warren continued, "that they just started playing our song. And I think I'm feeling some type of way about it."

"Does this feeling call for an abrupt departure from the festivities? I seem to recall that being the course of events the first time we heard this song."

Warren shifted so he sat closer to Thrive and delighted in the body heat radiating off of him. "I'd settle for an abridged version."

"Would you?"

"I think if I put in a lot of effort, I can suffer just once the indignity of having to make out with you, you son of a bitch."

"Romantic." Thrive leaned into him, and the contentment in his face could've lit the entire beach with its brilliance. "If you don't mind, however…I'd like to keep things light. While I'm delighted to spend time with you, I also don't want to step away from this. The air is fresh and there's something very pensive about the Sky tonight."

"Hey." Warren grinned at him. "Hearing that you're feeling good is like a fucking drug, man. I'd love to just sit out here with you."

Thrive grasped Warren's hand and pulled it toward himself, interlocking their fingers together as he cast his gaze out to the ocean, where three moons peeked out from the hidden horizon.

"…How light is 'light,' though?"

"There it is," Thrive muttered.

Warren laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm just messing, we don't have to do anything, I swear."

To his pleasant surprise, Thrive moved even closer and tilted his face up with a knuckle under the chin. "I am insanely, tragically in love with you."

"Mm." Butterflies thrashed about in Warren's stomach, as they almost always did in moments like this with no one but Thrive. "Write your own material."

"Why would I do that when your words were succinct and very relatable?"

Thrive finally closed the distance between them, sinking the tips of his fingers into the back of Warren's neck to draw him as close as he physically could. Warren contented in sitting halfway across Thrive's lap for the duration of several songs, blissfully engaged in syncing their minds and running his hands over his chest and shoulders. He coiled his arms around him, so engrossed in Thrive's lips and the warm home of their connection that he would, on occasion, forget they were technically in complete view of everyone for no other hazard than possibly carrying on exactly like that until the sun rose.

By the time either of them had the wherewithal to surface for breathable air, the concert was still in full swing. As Warren crested his amorous fog, he seemed to just then realize with a start that he and Thrive were, in fact, two separate entities.

"Whoa," Warren exhaled.

"Whoa indeed," Thrive murmured, and he regarded Warren with so much affection it almost physically hurt.

After humming and pressing a prolonged kiss to the corner of Thrive's mouth, Warren drooped into his arms. Breathed on his throat, brushed his lips over his pulse point.

"I appreciate your restraint," Thrive said sincerely.

"It's the hardest thing I think I've ever done…pretty literally, as you'll notice." Warren winced. "Sometimes I think I wanna, like…crawl under your skin and live with a Thrive suit on for a while."

Thrive was silent for a beat. "What?"

Warren, overcome with sudden giggles, pulled back to inspect Thrive's bewildered face. "I don't know. I'm a little punchy—that was really fucking weird. I never said that."

"Perhaps bed is a good idea after all for the purpose of sleep."

"Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe I'm allergic to your happiness. God." Warren combed his hand through Thrive's hair. "You're so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?"

"As flattered as I am, this body is not mine."

"So you keep telling me." Warren cocked his head. "Here's the kicker, though—your natural form is just as beautiful. At least…it is to me."

A rapid flash of melancholy appeared on Thrive's face before he masked it with another albeit genuine smile. "Perhaps I'm the lucky one."

"It's definitely me, but I'm not here to argue the point. You're right about one thing, and that's the fact that I need to sleep off whatever alien high I'm on right now. If you wanna stay here, that's great."

"Would you mind if I rested with you?"

Warren recoiled in offense and rattled off a response in a tone that sounded as if he were reading blandly from a script. "No, Thrive. You're not welcome anywhere near me. Ew no, stinky boy."

Thrive laughed, rolling his eyes. "Sarcasm unneeded, but I see my error."

"Sarcasm unneeded, says you. C'mon. Can't get up to sleepy morning shenanigans if we don't go to sleep first."

Thrive watched him stand and move toward the capital house, and Warren basked in the ethereal glow of his smile. "A fair point."

They retired for the night with their arms around each other and the muffled soundtrack of the concert permeating the walls of Warren's room.

#OCK2 #Darkspace Portent #pair: Sun & Moon #repost

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hopeheartfilia · 2 years

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the pain of the only thing youre reading actually being a book youre listening to

on one hand - i dont want to consume anything not aouv because i want this to consume my mind. this is my attempt at tricking myself into writhing an all of us villains fic. i want to write two so the fic count gets to 21

anyway. i may listen to podcats but its very slow going and usually im reading several fics at the same time. but rn? i dont have anything for when my earphones which are bluetooth because i only hve a type c adapter run out of power. im just sitting there. no game no nothing. me and the depression. downloaded a stim app. genuenly like it, still need something to give me that subway surfers vibe. or ill end up playing breath of the wild for 9 hours straight again this week

so. alistair lowe has my entire heart, ehich is fine because hes just given it to hendry. no new analysis just

Gavin hey hi , i think youll grow too emotionally attached to hendry to use him for dangerous experiments. why? Its Hendry Lowe and youre a traumatised teenage boy in a murder tournament, his speciality really

i dunno i wanna know more about their little cousin she seems... like a little cousin that lives with you. alistair should engage in a pillow fight and petty eating of last leftovers. obviously mostly suffering via there is a small sibling involved way. the instinct to punt little children even if you can recognise this is the sort of person youd talk to

then he should actually be totally on her side if gavin is complaining about something. oh she ate your desert? was your name written on it? as if he didnt have a row with her about drinking the last of the milk the day before

do i think this will happen like this? no not really. am i thinking about it? yes its the nature of me seeing annoying little kids in media. little sibling spotted. proceed to mix stories of friends with personal experience

so this is once more an aouv post. eh.

i feel like reed is going to become a way more interesting charather (its all the calling him pathethic. if he was treatening id be like yeaaah okay. but like hes pathethic, now ee gotta know more. would you have made out with gavin in an alley if that part stretched out more? the people need their answers mctavish) (idk my personal opinion of reid was mostly "whore" also "goth boy" reasons why him an alistair dont get along well - all moody brooding boys know each other factoid incorrect, they are different subtypes and while alistair goes with emo boy and dresses more for a dark academia moodboard reid may be inclined to look at him like hes a poser as bitch with an aestetic lifted from pinterest. which is totally the real reason for how they dont interact much and not the other perfectly reasonable mentioned things)

i have. gone off on a rant, naturally, but alistair being like okay. gavin will.... sleep in the cupboard! and hes trying so hard to catch what hes missing and be like haha gotcha your actual motive is this! but instead hes thinking of how flirting worked for isobel like, if push comes to shove... totally the first course of action

I dunno love how someone does soemthing and treatens his life and then he just copies them like yess shattering the glass is stuck in my head

boy mirrors actions so much, love that for him, never got socialised properly

#all of us villains #all of our demise #currently reading all of our demise #.. listening to #gonna add my boy because i mention him a lot #alistair lowe #me #a shitpost can be blue

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gallifrey1sburning · 17 days

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An incomplete list of things that have gone wrong since my move to a new apartment and city two weeks ago:

Moving truck and car both ran out of space and we had to throw out a bunch of shit we didn’t intend to (this is on us for underestimating how much we had accumulated in six years)

The super didn’t leave us the elevator key to lock it for the movers to use

The city didn’t provide the promised “no parking” signs to reserve space for the moving truck in front of the building on a narrow, one-way street

The movers dropped and left a massive hole in the back of one of my bookcases

The movers also broke the Edison bulb in my floor lamp off in the socket and lied about it, so I was just convinced I bought the wrong size replacement bulbs. Twice. Before noticing the fucked up corpse of a lightbulb base in the lamp and removing it with needlenose pliers (thanks, crafting!)

In unpacking, found that the beautiful wool cable knit sweater I spent an entire year knitting in college and was very proud of was infested with some sort of insect and had to throw it out.

All frustrating but manageable, yes? BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE

No hot water for the first FULL WEEK we were here

When they sent a plumber to fix the hot water, he saw that the air conditioning unit was flooding the utility room, so we had to turn it off. It’s been four days and it’s not fixed because they need access to something on the roof but…

…they can’t get to the roof because the key is gone and no one in the building or management company knows where it is

(PS the hot water fix is a workaround because it ALSO isn’t venting properly through the roof)

To keep the air circulating while the water heater is borrowing air from the apartment while its roof access pipes are blocked or whatever (I am not a tradesman, I am relaying what the professionals have told me), we are supposed to keep a window cracked. When we tried to do so, we found that the double-hung windows were installed incorrectly, and if you try to open them, the entire top pane drops violently. There is no screen on the top portion of the window.

(This is notable because there are A LOT of insects flying around in this area right now, none of which you would want in your apartment)

The dishwasher is broken

The drains are not draining

We partially moved here so I could start working hybrid, and today, for what would have been my fourth in-office day, well, let’s just say that I did NOT make it in, and that might have something to do with what the New York Times referred to as a “doom loop for NJ commuters” with delays in ALL types of transit into Manhattan ranging from one to four hours. People were jumping out of buses inside the Lincoln Tunnel. I opted to work from home in my unairconditioned apartment, where the thermostat was registering 84 degrees. Which could technically be worse, but certainly wasn’t pleasant.

Took a break from work and decided to run an errand locally; went to the garage to find our car straight up GONE - after several hours of panicked calls with the management company and reporting the car stolen (because the management company said they didn’t call a tow truck on us), turns out we’d read our move in packet wrong and were in the wrong spot, and instead of calling the super or building management to ask us to move, our neighbors CALLED THE COPS and had us TICKETED AND TOWED. Which they are very much not supposed to do by building standards but isn’t technically illegal, just shitty behavior. And since we hadn’t driven in 9 days because we’re trying to use public transit as much as possible (when it’s running, anyway), the car had been held by the tow company for 5 days by the time we saw it was gone and it cost us $500 to get it back, plus $56 for the ticket.

And the most horrendous thing about all of this? I’m still happier than I’ve been in YEARS, because New York and I have been in an on and off abusive relationship since 2007 and she is one of the epic loves of my life.

Oh, also our rent Is fucking ASTRONOMICAL. Welcome home to me.

#new york #new jersey #ny/nj commuting #Why do I love this city so much when I know she will never love me back #moving sucks worse every time I do it ISTG

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j0kers-light · 2 months

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currently thinking about j with an anemic gf ✊😔 i need a bf who can support me and my sleepiness and random lightheadedness 😫. i need a nap buddy 😪 and shout out to all my fellow people with rarer types of anemia that don’t just affect iron 😔😔✊

Hey hi anon!!! 🖤✨

HUGE shout out for representation!! Anemia does not just affect iron levels. Let’s discuss in detail love. This one is personal. Cheers to the anemic gurls! As always, I hope you enjoy!

You’ve been diagnosed with anemia for years (not just assuming you have it and tossing the condition around like its a character trait🙄) Moving on.....

It’s more complex than just low iron levels in your case; you are literally fighting for your life since you lack blood cells. It messes up everything in some way shape or fashion.

For example 👀 Your heart needs blood and oxygen to function. No surprise it decides to stop working when its starved of those two key ingredients and its aggravated by heat.

As a result, you’re constantly sleepy/weak and Joker pokes fun at you for falling asleep mid conversation or during simple tasks.

You can't help it! You have limited energy and to compensate, you take lots of naps. One every day that last at least two hours although you can sleep for much longer.

(Chaos once slept for an entire day much to my family's horror. Back to the hc!)

Joker thinks its cute when you curl up somewhere and crash for hours at a time. All you need is a blanket and a cool environment and its a wrap. An earthquake couldn't wake you.

Joker loves to find you fast asleep because he can join you and be as clingy as he wants. Nap dates are 100% a thing in this relationship and they happen anytime, anywhere.

Since you're so weak, you need a strong protector. Joker turns you into a blanket burrito and then holds you like his personal teddy bear. Remember Joker walking into his meeting with you in his arms from No Disrespect? Same concept anon.

And let's not talk about how your anemia affects your menstrual cycle. Let's just not. Bottom line, you run the risk of being admitted to the hospital it’s that bad. True story. 👀

You had no reason to tell Joker about your medical conditions because HIPAA is a thing so he's completely unaware that you have severe anemia.

You have an extensive jacket and blanket collection and you wear hoodies year round. It makes for an odd sight in the summer.

Your hands are always cold to the touch and Joker asks if you're related to Mr. Fries. 🙄❄ J jumps in shock when you touch him unexpectedly they're that cold.

Joker loves to "warm up his Bunny" (I hc Joker running like a furnace so he is the perfect boyfriend if you're anemic!)

You forgot your jacket? Joker pulls you in for a hug. Too cold at night? Hehe well.... 😏

Joker doesn't like when you space out. You get this glassy look in your eye and it takes you a while to come after he calls your name multiple times. You just mentally check out.

That's your body not having enough blood cells to carry oxygen to your brain. You literally do a Windows shutdown before coming back online with a slurred "huh?"

You reassure Joker that you're fine but he's not convinced. 👀

You hate the summer. Period.

Joker thought since you're always cold, the warm temp would be perfect, but you refuse to go out if the weather is higher than 88 degrees.

Joker finds out why extreme heat + anemic!Y/n = disaster the hard way.

Joker dragged you out of the apartment to an outdoor event claiming that you needed some 'sun.'

You would enjoy the event were it not a record breaking 99 degrees outside. You are short of breath but Joker is having fun so you grin and suffer in silence.

The first hour is okay, your Fitbit doesn't send you any health alerts. However your condition can happen suddenly and without warning. Its only a matter of time before you go tap out.

One second your laughing at something Joker said, the next, you skip the lightheaded phase and enter the dangerous cardiac stage of your condition.

Joker's voice sounds fathoms away and the loud festival becomes background noise as your heart fails. Your smart watch is beeping like crazy and the sound of it steals Joker's attention away from scanning the crowd for threats.

You have that spaced out look that he doesn't like.

"Bunny?" Joker's own heart skips a beat when your eyes roll back and you faint into his arms.

People nearby scream at the sight and Joker was left in a pickle. Yes, he wants to get you medical attention, but he can't draw too much attention to himself while doing so. Every second is precious and he tries to keep a level head to think of what to do.

Thankfully the local EMTs have personnel nearby for these types of emergencies and they rush over. Poor Joker is pushed to the side as the professionals notice your medical bracelet and get to work.

Joker tried to remain calm as they shock your heart and then start an IV on you.

He shivers feeling the AC being pumped into the medical building onsite. You would love the cool temperature if only you were awake. What was wrong with his Light?

Did someone poison you while he wasn't watching? Were you sick and he hadn't noticed? Nothing was making any sense to him.

"You her spouse?"

Joker blinked in shock at the random question being asked. The EMT repeated the question until Joker nodded along.

Joker looked the part so the medic continued along.

"Okay... well she had another vasovagal syncope episode. You know the drill. Dehydration, her anemia upsets her heart and add in the extreme heat; here we are. We gave Y/n her normal cocktail of vitamins before she suffered an actual heart attack, but I suggest taking her home out of the heat and keep an eye on her. She'll be drowsy for the next few hours but nothing she's not used to. If she starts to regress, call 911. Uh sir? I’m not done!"

All Joker heard was heart attack before he rushed to your side.

Imagine his surprise seeing you sitting up on the medic cot, cracking jokes with the field nurse. You were fine compared to the bunny that collapsed into his arms almost two hour ago. The nurse was removing your IV line when you spotted Joker standing in the doorway.

You waved your empty juice box at him. "There's my lover boy! Look, they gave me orange juice!"

You have some explaining to do when he gets you home. There's no way this is normal to you.

sadly it is J. 🥹

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teaburnuk · 1 year

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Tea Burn Reviews - Is It Effective For Loss Weight ?

Weight loss can be a major accomplishment or a major stumbling block for you. This type of life improvement is not rocket science, but it does require knowledge so Tea burn Reviews that you don't end up losing too much at once or not eating enough. This list of tips should help you lose the weight in a healthy manner.

To assist with losing weight, make sure you keep healthy snacks around the house or office. This will remove the desire to eat unhealthy snacks such as chips or something out of the vending machine. Some good snacks to keep on hand are unsalted almonds, raw vegetables, and rice cakes.

A good way to lose weight is to change the foods you snack on to something healthier. For instance, eat a handful of unseasoned almonds instead of a bag of potato chips. Nuts are a great source of healthy fat and are one of the best foods you can eat.

One thing people should do when trying to lose weight is to banish the word "diet" from their vocabulary. "Diet" implies a temporary way of eating, a quick fix that, once your weight-loss goals are reached, can be abandoned. It's much more helpful to think of weight loss as a different "way of eating." If you make more conscious choices about your food and choose to view these foods as part of a new way of eating rather than a temporary fix, you will find yourself adapting to them better and ultimately making them part of your new weight-losing routine.

If you are trying to lose weight, Tea burn here is a way to fit exercise seamlessly into your daily routine. Just make sure that during every 30-minute period of the day, you get up and walk around for 2 minutes. No matter how busy you are, you can always spare just two minutes. So set a timer if you have to, and get up and move every half hour.

Think about all the things you can eat, instead of focusing on what you can't eat. When people start trying to lose weight they think of all the delicious food they can't eat, but the truth is that there are plenty of tasty foods that you can eat all the time. You'll be happier losing weight once you realize that.

Decide what your biggest guilty-pleasure food is and incorporate its flavors into healthy dishes. For instance, if you love Mexican food, add salsa to your egg-white omelet, or use fajita seasoning to spice up your chicken. When you use the fundamental flavors of your favorite food in everyday cooking, you help eliminate cravings for it. Plus, eating becomes a more enjoyable experience.

Check the serving size Tea Burn Ingredients of your favorite cereal and then use a measuring cup to make sure you are getting the right portion. Most people pour their cereal and they think they can come close enough. Most of the time people eat more cereal than they think they do, which can sabotage weight loss.

There are many surgeries that can help a person who is severely obese lose weight. One procedure is to put a band around your stomach so that you are physically not able to consume as much food. This will help you lose weight simply because the less calories you eat, the easier weight loss will be,

When trying to lose weight it is a good idea to have some long term goals. For example, you could try to run 200 miles on the treadmill by the end of the month. Constantly striving for that number could be all the motivation that you need to keep up a fitness program for an entire month and subsequently lose a lot of weight.

You can save money while dieting by preparing home cooked meals. You can get great weight loss results by cooking at home. Restaurant foods can cause you to gain extra pounds. Getting food prepared can also burn some calories for you.

Snacking is an okay thing to do, even when trying to lose weight. The important thing to remember is not to over-snack. This is very easy to do if you eat your food right out of the container that in came in. If you are eating pretzels for example, count out a serving size and put that in a bowl to snack on.

Sleep depravation can be a cause for weight gain. When you are not getting enough sleep, Tea Burn USA the level of hormones that regulate hunger become altered, and you will find that you have an increase in your hunger level. Sometimes being hungry does not mean that you need to eat more, you may just need more sleep at night.

Some people feel like not finishing their plate is not a good thing. Don't feel guilty if you are full and their is still food on your plate. You can wrap it up and save it for part of your lunch so it won't go to waste. Don't overeat just because you feel like you should.

Try taking a short walk before your meals. This will help you get in a little exercise, and it will help prevent you from making unhealthy food choices. You are less likely to want to eat fatty foods after you have walked around. You do not want your hard work to go to waste.

When working on your weight loss plan, consider everything to be exercise. Cleaning the house, taking the stairs, pushing the swings in the park, it all counts. Incorporating more movement into your everyday life will help you to get fit faster and achieve your weight loss goals.

Remove as much junk food from your diet as you possibly can. Some people are addicted to the taste of junk food, but you will gain weight fast when eating it. The amount of calories in junk food is surprisingly high and the food itself does not quell your appetite.

As you can see, there is a lot more to weight loss than most people think. It requires a lot of work and patience but it will be worth it in the end to help yourself live healthier. By following the above tips, you are well on your way to getting the body you want.

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Tea burn Reviews

Lean gene reviews

Vital Flex Core Reviews

Java Burn Reviews

Fast Lean pro reviews

Exipure reviews

#teaburnuk

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topstitchalteration · 2 years

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Clothing Repairs In Sydney: What You Need To Know

Your style can be expressed strongly through your clothing. You must also dress flawlessly if you wish to maintain your flawless personality. Now, dressing flawlessly does not necessarily mean that you should constantly wear brand-new, expensive clothing. Instead, you should be well-groomed and wear clothes that fit your frame. So that you can look your best and your dress will fit you perfectly. Now, finding a garment that precisely fits you is only sometimes possible. In this situation, getting an alteration Sydney is the only way to make a garment fit you precisely. Therefore, modifications are crucial to providing flawless appearance and making your clothes look ideal.

What Kind Of Clothing Repairs Do You Need?

There are many types of clothing repairs that you may need at some point in time. Here are just a few of the most common:

● Hemming is a process whereby the bottom edge of a garment is trimmed and then sewn back together to create a neater appearance.

● Buttons can come loose over time, making it necessary to sew them back on or replace them entirely.

● Zippers: Like buttons, zippers can also come loose or break over time. They can usually be repaired but sometimes need to be replaced entirely.

● Seams: Seams can split or tear over time, especially if the garment is made from a delicate fabric. These will need to be sewn back together or replaced entirely.

Benefits Of Clothing Repairs

If you're like most people, you probably have a few items of clothing in your closet that require repair. Clothing repairs can often seem like a hassle, whether it's a hole in your favorite pair of jeans or a torn seam on your dress shirt. But did you know there are several benefits to repairing your clothes? Here are some benefits of clothing repairs that you may not have considered:

● Save money: Clothing repairs are often much cheaper than buying new clothes. If you have a piece of clothing that you love, but it's starting to show some wear and tear, getting it repaired is a great way to extend its life and save yourself some money in the long run.

● Help the environment: When you repair your clothes instead of replacing them, you're helping to reduce textile waste. It is suitable for the environment and can help reduce your carbon footprint.

● Support local businesses: Many clothing repair shops are small businesses. By using their services, you're supporting local businesses and helping to keep them afloat.

● Get unique items: Clothing repair shops often sell upcycled or vintage items. It means you can find unique pieces no one else will have!

● Enjoy the process: It is satisfying to take something broken and fix it yourself. Clothing repairs can be a fun hobby or even a creative outlet.

Conclusion

There you have it! All the information you need to know about clothing repairs near me. Whether you're looking for a quick fix or a more permanent solution, this guide has helped you find the right place for your needs.

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 24: Monster (The Asylum)

Day 24: Monster Title: The Asylum Pairing: Mothman Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Noncon, monster mind control stuff, oviposition, cumflation, belly bulges, breeding, forced orgasms, some slight descriptions of gore and blood, yandere Note: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a real place, although parts of what I wrote is fake, mostly the part where they close down a second time in the fic. IRL, they’re still open and doing tours. Tagging @ichor-and-symbiosis and @kazooli as two of the OG Mothura writers 👀

Sequel: The Brood

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve always loved urban exploring, going to old mental asylums and hospitals to look around and see the decay of places that used to be so bustling with people. You especially liked the places that had tragic pasts, the ones where horrific things occurred. It sounds morbid to anyone you talk to about your interests, but it was the truth. You’ve always believed in monsters and ghosts just out of sight of humanity, lurking in the dark corners of abandoned places.

That’s why you instantly planned a trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum the second you heard about it. It had been abandoned years ago due to extreme abuse of patients. A historical society had moved in later, renovating the place and making a history tour of it that also did ghost tours at night.

But even they ended up abandoning the place due to the fake ghost tours apparently starting to become real ghost tours. People began to see creatures out of the corner of their eyes, something they said was much larger than a human, with wings on its back and piercing red eyes.

It was initially dismissed as overactive imaginations, people who wanted to see ghosts so badly that they were seeing things that weren’t there. Or people who just wanted to start tall tales for attention and were flat out making things up in order to scare the rest of the group.

But then the disappearances started to happen. It was almost always young women who got separated from the tour group, although a few times it was a boyfriend and girlfriend who got lost together. The tour guides scoured every inch of the asylum looking for the missing people, but they found no trace of them. At first it was dismissed as the people getting scared and running off without telling anybody.

Until one day, a regularly scheduled tour group stumbled across the bodies. Not the bodies of the missing girls, but their partners. They were viciously torn apart, with limbs scattered all over the room. Their blood covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling of the room. The women were alive but traumatized, rocking back and forth in a corner of the room absolutely covered in blood, none of which was their own.

They told the same tales that the rest of the people did. They were captured by a monster, around 8-9 feet tall, with large moth-like wings and red eyes. The creature was surprisingly gentle to them, they said, at least until they saw that they were with someone. The creature had become enraged, tearing their partner to pieces as they watched. They knew for certain that they would be next, their eyes squeezed tight as they waited for their death.

But the creature did nothing, simply turning away and leaving the room like they were not what the creature wanted.

Although everyone agreed that something horrible had happened to the young women, none of them believed their story. They had stayed in that room for several days, covered in the blood of their loved ones, not knowing if they were ever going to make it out. Of course they were traumatized, thinking they saw monsters. But monsters aren’t believed to exist, and so everyone began to look for a human murderer that was never found.

The asylum tried to recover from the tragedy, but it was never able to. The amount of bad press they got for having lax safety standards and not taking care of their tour groups caused everybody to stay away. Finally, having no other choice in the matter, the asylum had closed.

When you heard this story, you were over the moon excited. Not just a historical landmark, but also a place with a possible real life monster sighting. Nothing was going to stop you from going there and seeing the place for yourself.

And now here you stand, in front of the building with a backpack full of supplies slung over your shoulder. You had your phone, flashlights with spare batteries, a spare change of clothes, matches and lighters, even a rope and various other tools should something happen inside of the building.

And so, with a deep excitement bubbling up in your stomach, you find your way through a hole in the fence and walk through the front door. The first thing you see is the reception desk with various odds and ends left over from the closure. There are even still brochures describing the various types of tours and listing prices.

You walk down the first corridor you see, going past various closed off rooms that look to be basic examination rooms. There is surprisingly little decay, mostly everything still looking rather clean and intact besides a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. You’re a bit discouraged but decide to continue on to see if things get more interesting.

After all, the murders occured in the basement, and you’re not anywhere close to that yet.

Soon you find yourself in the medical ward where the patients were kept, and you instantly realize one of the reasons this hospital was so nightmarish. The rooms are even smaller than jail cells, leaving barely enough space for patients to lay down in. There are so many rooms of that exact size that you wonder how the staff could accurately take care of the amount of patients there had to be. But you remember your research, remember the fact that they couldn’t.

That was why so many brutal procedures were performed such as lobotomies, in order to keep the peace at the asylum and make things easier for the doctors and nurses. You give a quick shudder and begin to move on, feeling a strange sensation that you desperately want to get away from.

The decay gets worse and worse the closer you get to the basement, rust and decay beginning to cover every surface you see. You walk past some of the surgery rooms and feel horror at the utensils and instruments you see in them. The historical society tried to keep things as accurate as possible, and as such, they had kept most of the equipment that you would see back in those days.

You’re beginning to wonder if this is a good idea, as that strange sensation continues to worsen and worsen. You realize with a start what this feeling actually is.

It feels like someone is watching your every movement. You whirl around, shining your flashlight in every direction as you try to see what’s watching you. But there’s nothing but darkness and the decaying walls of the hospital. You shake your head, laughing quietly at the fact that you’re spooked out by a few weird shadows and an odd feeling.

You’re not going to let it stop you from your goal, however, and you continue forwards until you get to the doors of the basement. The feeling here is overwhelming, simultaneously telling you to run and move forward all at the same time. The conflicting emotions leave you off balance and light headed, and you reach your hand out instinctively when you sway on your feet. You touch a section of the wall and instantly pull your hand back.

The wall is warm, not cold like it should be. A sense of unease crawls up your spine, and you decide then and there that it’s time to go. Making it to the basement is not worth this, whatever it is you’re feeling. But then you hear a soft humming and the flapping of wings, coming from deep within the basement of the hospital.

Instead of being terrified, however, you feel entranced. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, and it’s calling you. You open the basement door without even thinking about it, walking down the stairs in a dreamy haze. You don’t even pay attention to how heavy the rot here is, how the walls are entirely blackened by decay that spreads out like veins on a body.

You don’t pay attention when the door slams closed behind you, locking you in with whatever is calling you closer. All you can think about is getting to that beautiful sound, that lonely haunting call that seems to burrow deep into your brain. You walk as if you’re in a trance, turning corridors that you’ve never seen before but somehow know where they’re going.

Finally, you get to a door that is deep within the bowels of the basement, a bright red door that seems to beckon you inside. You push open the door with no hesitation, walking through and letting it close behind you.

And you finally come face to face with the creature. He is about 9 feet tall, towering over your small form. He’s not overly muscular, but he has a thin wiry look to him that says he is deceptively strong. His red eyes bore into you like they’re staring directly into your soul. On his back are two massive wings, spread to their full wing span and utterly gorgeous.

The creature makes a small chittering noise as he motions you towards him, and you follow like he’s a puppeteer holding your strings. He pulls you tightly into his body, burying his nose into your neck and taking a deep whiff of your skin. His hot breath on your sensitive skin pulls a shudder from you. and he tightens his grip as if he’s worried you’ll get away.

A long tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking at the pulse point that is frantically beating. “Mine,” he groans into your skin, sharp teeth grazing you. “Mate.” You’re lifted up off your feet before being laid down on the ground, hips in the air and face down on the floor. He rips your pants off easily, leaving your panties on as he lowers his head down. You feel a flash of embarrassment as he sniffs them like he sniffed your neck, groaning again as his tongue drags across the wet abric. “Fertile,” he whispers as he pulls your panties aside, “fertile mate.”

The haze parts from your mind long enough for you to feel a sharp flash of fear, and then his tongue is lapping at your folds and the fear is quickly chased away again. You dig your nails into the floor as you feel him work his tongue inside of you, using it to fuck you like a cock would. You gasp when he hits your cervix with his tongue and keeps going, wiggling against the barrier like he’s trying to break through it.

Something in his saliva causes your body to heat up and your muscles to loosen enough for him to batter his tongue harder against you and push through. Your scream echoes through the walls of the room, but not of pain. Instead, a fierce pleasure overtakes you as your cervix gives way to the creature’s tongue, allowing him to enter into your womb.

The feeling of this tongue wiggling around in your empty womb causes you to tip over the edge and cum around the creature’s tongue as he eagerly laps at your juices. He withdraws his tongue, causing you to let out a whine of disappointment, only to be surprised when you feel something prodding at your entrance. It doesn’t feel like a human cock at all, with ridges and bumps along the length and much thicker than a human cock would be.

You have a single moment to wonder how it will fit inside of you before it’s pushing in, stretching out your tight outer ring of muscles and causing a sharp burning in your lower stomach. You whine and try to pull away, only for the creature to let out a snarl as claws dig into your hips, causing your blood to drip down onto the pavement.

Even though there is no pain, only more pleasure, you learn your lesson and don’t try to move away as the thick cock slides even further into you. It’s so much thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you’re shaking like a leaf when he finally bottoms out inside. You think he’ll start thrusting like a human male would, except that he doesn’t.

He keeps pushing, humping into you with sharp movements designed to force your cervix open even further. You squeal as the cock makes it past the barrier, burying deep inside of your womb. You glance down and let out a choked sob at the bulge in your stomach where the tip of the creature’s cock is.

“Pretty - pretty mate,” the creature says hesitantly, rolling his hips experimentally into you and drawing a groan from your throat. “Tomura,” he adds, and it takes you a second to realize that’s the creature’s name.

“Tomura,” you murmur, and the creature chitters happily at the sound of your voice saying the name. You try to think of something else to ask, maybe even to beg to be released as the haze seems to clear a bit, but Tomura begins to hum again, and you instantly smile in bliss as all of your concern fades away.

You feel something else pushing into your entrance, and it takes a long moment to realize what it is as you feel it slip up your stretched out tunnel.

Eggs. The creature is filling you with eggs. Instead of being horrified, however, you moan as they continue to move inside of you. There are multiple eggs at once, small and gooey, and they coat your insides with wetness as they make their way to your still stretched out cervix.

You feel them pass through the opening to plop down into your womb, and you cry out and cum hard, pussy wildly fluttering around Tomura’s cock. He lets out a deep grunt of pleasure as he rocks his hips against you, and you feel more eggs pushing into you. This time, a few of them get stuck against a spongy spot inside of you, and you scream out your orgasm, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, oh god, shit, Tomura - “ you babble mindlessly as more eggs push into you, “it feels so good, why does it - “

Before those eggs can push fully in, there are already more entering you, and you feel so incredibly full. They drop down into your no longer empty womb, wringing another orgasm from your tired body. The skin of your stomach is stretching, making you look bloated, and Tomura still isn’t done.

You lose track of time completely, only aware of your body twitching and convulsing as more and more eggs push up into you, settling into your womb with the rest of them. Your stomach already looks 9 months pregnant, and you can barely hold yourself up.

Tomura sees this, and he gently picks you up and lays you down on your back. “Pretty mate,” he leans and kisses your forehead, “look so good with my children. Our children.”

“Oh god, no more, please no more, I’m so full Tomura,” you whimper as more eggs push into you. “Please, so full - “

Tomura hums softly at you, and you smile with bliss as the final eggs plop down into your womb. His movements become more savage, thrusting hard into you as he grunts and groans. The force of his thrusts has you sliding up, breasts bouncing and your belly jiggling. The feeling of the eggs moving around inside of you has you howling out your orgasm, blackness dotting the edge of your vision as you almost lose consciousness.

Finally, Tomura is finished, and his cock begins to twitch inside of you as hot ropes of cum fill you up, shooting directly into your womb where the eggs reside. You sob as you watch your stomach bulge out even more as the creature’s cum fertilizes the eggs inside. You can no longer see the dents and valleys of the eggs along your stomach, and you reach down to gently run your hand over your bloated stomach.

You can feel the eggs through the barrier of skin, and it causes your eyes to roll back at the pleasure. Tomura gives a soft, happy chirp as he places his hand over yours on your belly, rubbing it gently. He pulls out slowly, causing a mixture of your cum and his to gush out of your now gaping pussy.

He reaches down to pick you up as he walks towards a door in the back of the room that you hadn’t noticed before. You’re shocked by what you see when you walk through. It’s an utterly untouched room, still looking brand new and with none of the decay that covers the rest of the basement. There is no bed, but there is a pile of clean blankets and pillows in the corner, piled up high and in a circle.

A nest, you realize. It’s a nest. For you. He tucks you in gently, chirping again as his clawed hand runs over your pregnant belly. “Mate,” he says happily, “my pretty little mate.” He stands up and walks towards the door, turning to you one last time as his gaze narrows and darkens just a bit.

“No running. Don’t want to have to tie mate down.” He continues to gaze at you, as if waiting for something.

“I won’t run,” you say quietly, and the dark look on his face is gone instantly as he beams at you.

“Good mate, good.” And with that, he’s gone.

With his absence, some of the haze lifts and you’re able to realize the horror of the situation you’re in. Nobody knows where you are, and you’re trapped. Even if you wanted to run, you don’t think you could with how large your belly is. No escape and no help coming for you, and the creature already seems so possessive of you that he’s not going to let you easily escape.

If only you had listened to your instincts earlier, if only you hadn’t been so fascinated with the grotesque, if only you had simply chosen to stay home.

You’ve always believed in monsters. You just never thought you would find one.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main

#kinktober 2020 #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha kinktober #bnha kinktober #tw: noncon #tw ovi #tw oviposition

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sweetpascal · 3 years

Text

“ what’s your favorite scary movie? ”

pairing: dave york x fem!reader

summary: after enjoying a pleasant night alone on halloween, you receive an unknown and questionable phone call that you believe to be a harmless joke done by an annoying prankster. things take a turn for the worst when you realize just how serious this is.

warnings: suburban murder daddy dave, slight dub-con vibes, brief violence, KNIFE PLAY, rough rough rough sex, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it before you tap it), awkward neighbor interactions, dave and reader are married, tenderness of course, slasher roleplay ;)

word count: 8.1k (okay i need to fucking stop writing so damn much omg)

notes: OKAY SO this idea was first birthed from @tuskens-mando (eri’s) halloween headcanon post about the pedro boys here and what she put at the end of dave’s immediately caught my eye, and we both talked A LOT about it and it was so much fun and we both developed so many ideas to make this happen!! some inspirations included this and this and this.

follow @sweetpascal-notifs for future fic updates.

Spending a night alone on Halloween has been something you had been waiting for since the beginning of the spooky season. Scary movies have always been a favorite genre of yours, especially since you were a young child. The blood and gore, fear and suspense, the prickly feeling of being watched after finishing a specific horror movie. All of them, you loved. On the other hand, you hated being alone while doing so. That little feeling of being watched was unnerving when you didn’t have a friend to share it with or joke about to make the situation lighthearted and less creepy.

You loved the type of movies where the female protagonist fights for her life and obviously wins in the end. But what frustrates you is when they’d run for their lives and fall to the ground after tripping on nothing, and they stay on the ground like idiots while they watch the killer coming at them. Then, they finally get up again to continue running. I mean, what the hell is that? Are women really deemed as clumsy and weak? If you were ever getting chased by a crazed killer, you’d fight tooth and nail to come out alive.

The night continued leisurely. There were little trick-or-treaters knocking at your knock every so often and you were always so excited to hand out handfuls of candy. There was one little boy that stole your heart; he was dressed up as a male version of Carrie, wearing an adorable white tux with fake blood dripping all over him and a large pin on the lapel of his jacket that read They’re All Gonna Laugh At You.

When the clock struck ten, you officially retired for the night, unplugged the outside decoration lights, and switched off the porch lights. When you were twisting the plastic wand to turn down the shades of your windows, a booming set of knocks on the front door echoed through your quiet house. Your entire body jumped and you let out a frightened gasp before pressing your hand to your chest, your fluttering heartbeat pulsing rapidly against your palm. If it was another group of children, you would give them the last few handfuls of candy and call it a night. If it was a group of teenagers playing a prank, you would just ignore it and continue cleaning up.

You quietly walked over to the door, placing your hand on the doorknob and leaning your eye against the peephole. After watching several horror movies in your life, one important and smart rule is to never open the door without peeking to see who it is first. With a frown of confusion when seeing no one on your porch, you unlocked the door with a noisy click and opened the wooden barrier without sliding the door chain free from its latch. Only idiots would fully unlock their door and leave it wide open while they stepped outside to look for the possible suspect. Eyebrows drawn close with hesitation as you looked out at your front yard and the dark streets. Everyone’s house lights were off, except yours. The streetlights illuminated an eerie orange glow in some spots and left the others pitch dark.

With one last hesitating glance around the street, you finally shut the door and locked it. You hadn’t even walked away from the door yet before a set of booming knocks bash into it again. You yelped from the sudden brash noise. You didn’t even want to look through the peephole this time. Scurrying to the living room, you shut off the main light and switched on the small table lamp. Still staring at your ominous door, your hand blindly pats the sofa for your phone. When you couldn’t feel it in the spot you originally left it, you looked away from the door to frantically pull up the pillows.

Suddenly, the house phone started ringing with an annoying blare. It came from the kitchen. Your heart leaped into your throat, secretly wishing it was one of your best friends calling. Glancing at the front door as you hurry past it, you yanked the house phone from the box and looked at where a viewing number is supposed to show. No phone number showed. It only reads NO CALLER ID. Pressing the green button with a high pitched beep, you spoke into the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Why didn’t you answer the door?” A voice spoke back to you. The voice was masculine, low, and husky. It was familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint who it could be. Your mind completely blanked. Whoever was on the other line took note of your confused silence and took that as an opportunity to continue talking. “I know you’re there, sweetheart.” The way he spoke in a sing-song way made you feel uneasy instantly.

“Who the fuck is this?” You spat, your hand trembling slightly as your eyes frantically scanned the windows of your house, but all you saw was darkness from the outside.

“Such crude language,” he huskily laughs, the deep sound causing a slight shiver to spread along your body and giving you goosebumps along your arms hidden underneath your oversized sweatshirt. “I just want to talk.”

“Yeah? Go to a bar. Go to a park. Hell, go to church for all I care. Don’t terrorize a helpless person on their telephone on Halloween night,” you exasperatedly told him, pacing back and forth in the kitchen while keeping your eyes on the front door and windows, even though the shades were down and the curtains were drawn.

“Why? Are you… scared?” He asks you, his tone so teasing that you wished you could reach into the phone and slap him across the face. This man is a prick and he was wasting your time.

You scoffed and hung up. Not even two seconds later, the phone rang in your hand, the NO CALLER ID lighting up on the small screen. When you answered the phone and put it on speaker, the man started speaking.

“It’s very rude to hang up on people, sweetheart,” he tuts, the condescending tone lacing his voice makes you roll your eyes. “Has your mother not taught you manners?”

“Has your mother taught you not to stalk people? You sassed him, unable to comprehend what the hell was going on.

Completely disregarding your question, he immediately asks you, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

This question catches you off guard. Your lips part and your eyes briefly widen in surprise. Breaking your stare from the front door, you look down at the ground and lean back onto the countertop.

“Um, no, I don’t.” There was hesitation as you spoke quietly into the phone. “Why do you ask? You wanna take me out on a date or something, mysterious stalker man?” This time it was your turn to tease him lightheartedly. Although you haven’t seen this man’s face, he sounds dangerously attractive.

“If you don’t have a boyfriend, then whose sweatshirt are you wearing?”

A feeling of dread washed over you like an ice cold tidal wave, leaving you frozen from head to toe. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Gasoline was poured onto the blazing spark of fear coursing through your trembling body. You clutched the phone tighter in a death grip; the only thing keeping you grounded and steady from crumbling onto the tiled floor. Moving at a dazed pace, you looked out the kitchen window that overlooks part of your pitch black backyard.

In a quavering voice, one that holds no courage or confidence, you ask, “What… What did you just say?” Your question was weak, furthering showing that you held no power in this terrifying situation.

“You heard me, sweetheart,” the man told you, a gruff laugh following his words. “If you don’t have a boyfriend, whose sweatshirt is that, huh? Seems to me that it’s too big on you to be a sweatshirt for a young woman. Isn’t that right?” He was mocking you now, using your stupidity for his own sick joke. When you’re frozen in pure fear, he continues. “I really despise liars, honey. They just make me so… angry and… violent. It makes killing them a lot more enjoyable.” His laugh is crazed this time and uncontrollable, and it has you swallowing thickly in nervousness.

When you finally mustered the ability to speak again, in a broken voice, you tried to tell him firmly, “No… No, you’re… you’re lying.” You’re close to breaking down in the middle of the kitchen, completely glued to your spot as you try desperately to mentally yourself that what’s happening at this very moment isn’t real, that it’s a figment of your imagination, that it’s a sick man playing a sick game.

“Am I?” He questions you. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I don’t know anyone else in this shithole town that wears a 1998 Washington State University sweatshirt.”

You peer down at the only piece of clothing adorning your body, the blocky, red letters burning holes into your eyes as a red cougar logo sits against your sternum. The hand holding the phone is trembling badly, further weakening your nerves and ability to hold the phone, and your breathing has spiked. A lonesome tear rolls down your cheek when the feeling of dread becomes too overpowering.

Taking advantage of your state of shock, the menacing man on the other line adds, “You should’ve locked your door, sweetheart.”

A cold sweat suddenly overtakes your entire body. The heavy pounding of your heart makes it almost impossible to breathe without feeling like you’re about to faint at any second. With shaky legs, you hurry to your front door and, on instinct, go to lock it, only to find out that you had locked it moments ago. A quivering cry escapes before you can swallow it down. His next statement is what makes the phone call out of your limp grip and clatter onto the ground, the back opening and the batteries rolling away in opposite directions.

“I never said which door.”

Your heart plummets to your stomach as a painful knot begins to form. You didn’t even want to look behind you, but you can feel the pin pricks of someone’s gaze burning into your back. Another tear slides down your cheek and rolls under your jaw, leaving a wet, salty trail. Breathing shakily, psyching yourself into the proper frame of mind to look back, you said a mental prayer. When you looked over your shoulder, it seemed as though everything happened in slow motion.

Standing in front of your backdoor, inside your house, is a rather tall man wearing a terrifying Ghostface mask and the black, ripped gown with the hood over his head, along with large black boots. In one of his leather gloved hands is Buck 120 knife, similar to the one Ghostface uses to slaughter his victims. He wiggles it between his thumb and forefinger expertly. Lifting his other leather gloved hand, he waves his fingers at you, tilting his head to one side menacingly.

“Hello sweetheart,” he says under the mask, husky voice clear as day. But instead of his voice creating butterflies, it creates terror.

Your mouth drops open to let out an ear piercing scream when he suddenly charges at you at a lightning speed that almost catches you off guard, his heavy boots thudding onto the wood flooring, for sure tracking in mud from the outside. You were able to duck in time when he lifted his knife wielding hand to swing it down at you. The knife stabs into the door right where your head was supposed to be. You bolt down the narrow hallway, pulling the thin table that leaned against the wall to create a sad excuse for a barrier between you and your assailant. The table crashes to the side when the man, quite literally, throws it behind him with immaculate strength that should be considered terrifying. With another gut wrenching scream, you dash down the hallway and turn the corner to run into the other entrance of the kitchen.

Survival, that’s what was on your mind at this very moment. The alarms of your fight-or-flight response were blaring uncontrollably as the adrenaline that coursed through you from head to toe made you frantic. You halt at the countertop and pull out your biggest knife from the drawer. As soon as you turn around, holding the knife in front of you as an act of self defense, the man stops at the doorway like a predator hunting its prey. In this case scenario, he’s the predator and you’re the prey. Your hand trembles terribly as your fingers tighten around the handle. He slowly saunters around the countertop sat in the middle of the kitchen. You jerked around to the opposite side, moving around the counter as well, still making sure there was great distance between you and the masked assailant.

“My… My boyfriend will be here a-any second,” you quietly told him, your voice shaking awfully along with the hand holding the knife. “If you… If you leave now, I promise… I won’t call the police.”

The man tilts his head to one side mockingly. You couldn’t see his facial expression, but you knew that he knew you were bullshitting. And he makes sure you know that he knows you’re lying.

“Is that right?” He drawls, his voice syrupy slow and rich. “I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend, sweetheart.” His laugh is booming when your face drops at getting caught in your poorly made lie. “I knew you were gonna be here all alone.” His hand reaches under the gown and to the back pocket of his dark jeans, waving your phone at you with another deep laugh. Your fucking phone. When did he take it? There was one moment early in the night where you had gone upstairs to use the bathroom. Your eyes widen at the realization. “That’s right.” He observed you connecting the dots. “I’ve been here all along, sweetheart.”

“You sick fuck!” You shouted at him, jutting the sharp tip of the knife at him when he rounded the corner of the counter steadily. Your voice still wavered as you tried desperately to create this image that you’re a fighter, that you will kill to survive. “Why? Why me? I didn’t do shit to you!”

The masked man stops for a moment, staring down at you like a child stares down at a measly worm trying to make its way across the dirt before stomping on it. You can feel his heated gaze on your skin, every single inch of your skin from head to toe. You suddenly felt too exposed under his stare.

“You see, I like my victims to be… easy, if you will. A young couple camping in the middle of the woods with no cellphone service, typical. An elderly man walking home alone at night after a hard day of work, sure. But you?” He takes another step around the counter and you automatically move the opposite way, closely calculating his precise mannerisms. “You… are the easiest prey there is known to man. A woman, all alone at home, the neighbors asleep in their beds with no clue as to what’s happening in this house. And nobody likes a nosy neighbor, right? I bet you that if you screamed as loud as you could, no one would come running.” A cold chill sends a shiver down your spine. “They’d simply peek their little heads out the window and do abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” His gruff growl at the last word makes you swallow uneasily.

“That’s not true,” you weaky protested, shaking your head in disagreement as you choked on a wet sob in the back of your throat. Tears quickly filled the brim of your burning eyes, and you blinked the slight pain away, forcing the thick tears to roll down your cheeks. “They… They’ll come for me. And your ass will be sent to jail.”

The man stopped moving around the counter. He just stands there, watching. His head tilts to the side before straightening it. You saw the brief glint of the silver blade of his incredibly sharp knife at his hip.

“How much do you wanna bet?”

He suddenly lunges at you, barreling in your direction at full speed, completely catching you off guard. You had no time to lift your own weapon to defend yourself before his elbow is slamming down onto your wrist with such force that it makes you yell out in agonizing pain. The sudden shock of your nerves seizing up caused you to drop your knife as the blade clattered obnoxiously across the tiled flooring. A large, leather gloved hand wraps around your throat, long fingers squeezing on both sides of your neck. You grab onto his arm desperately, beating your fists down to free yourself from his brutal grasp. Your pulse is heavy and rapid under his fingers, and you’re sure he can feel it through the thick leather. He’s suddenly lifting and pushing you through the hallway. You stand helplessly on your tiptoes, digging your fingernails into the sliver of skin between the black gown and his glove. His grunt of pain is muffled underneath the mask, and he quickly throws you down to the ground, watching from above when your body lands hard.

You gasp and cough and swallow thickly. Your throat is raw and scratchy from his grip. Your knees are on fire when you land on them to save yourself from the fall. Your hands are grabbing at the long carpet in the entryway as you try to crawl away from him. You’re freely crying now, not bothered at the fact that you’re showing him your fear. You sobbed pathetically when you hear his boots thudding loudly behind you. You were still dizzy from being choked, so you couldn’t get up fast enough to get to the backdoor.

“I expected you to put up more of a fight, sweetheart,” the man tuts in mock disappointment, watching in amusement as you weakly crawl like a wounded animal shot in the middle of the woods, trying desperately to get away from its hunter. He taps the sharpened tip of his knife against his thigh. “I guess you were all bark and no bite, huh?” When you lift your upper body to get onto your hands and knees, he presses the bottom of his rough boot into your back and nudges you hard enough to send you falling forward onto your face once again. At the sound of your feeble cry into the carpet, he sighs heavily. “You have such a pretty face, sweetheart. It’s a shame, really - having to ruin your pretty little self. But don’t worry. If I’m feeling nice enough, I’ll make it quick and maybe painless.”

You laid there, frozen in horror, as you listened to his short monologue. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your bare thigh, forcibly flipping you onto your back. The man above you waves his knife in front of your face, back and forth and back and forth, almost like a metronome. You can see your reflection in the silver blade, your eyes following the movements of the blade in a trance-like state. At a speed that amazingly surprises you, the sharp side of the blade is pressed against your throat. You stare up at him, holding your breath and awaiting his next move. He leans into your personal space, the Ghostface mask shaking you to your core as you think this will be the last thing you’ll see before you die.

“Do you know how long it’ll take you to bleed out if I make one, nice, deep cut at your carotid artery and jugular vein?” He asks you, a short, gruff laugh escaping him soon after, and you can feel his hot breath seeping through the mouth of his mask and spreading across your chin. “Five to fifteen seconds. You’ll lay here, choking on your own blood.”

With the way he’s sitting on his knees between your thighs and the way his voice gets all gruff and husky, your nerves are beginning to light itself on fire. Gritting your teeth and mustering enough strength, you begin to punch and slap at his mask-covered face. You managed to get a few good hits as he shouts angrily, grabbing your throat with his free hand when his mask finally comes off. Your eyes widen when you come face to face with your attacker. He looks down at you with a snarl on his face, his pouty lips curled and his thick eyebrows furrowed. You’re too hypnotized to care. You eagerly trace his features with your eyes, taking note of his clean shaven face, messy hair, his sun kissed skin, his strong nose, and those dark eyes of his - eyes that hold a storm of emotions, blazing with fire and rage. His snarl slowly drops from his face when he takes in your labored breathing - not from his hand around your throat - and your dilated pupils.

“Well, well, well,” he laughs darkly, crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes and sharp canines at the corner of his upturned lips. He taps the flat side of his knife against your warm cheek, laughing again when your mouth falls open and you regretfully exhale a soft moan. “Looks like someone is desperate to get fucked by the big, bad killer.” He smirks and lowers his eyes to your chest, hidden underneath the thick sweatshirt of this so-called ‘boyfriend’ of yours. Your breathing is heavy and has picked up speed.

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly, eyes falling shut when you felt a gloved hand slide along the outside of your bare thigh, disappearing under the sweater to skim above the waistband of your embarrassingly damp panties. “Don’t kill me…”

He looks back up at you, his own pupils dilated as well. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. Your mouth falls open and your tongue aches to lick up the offending droplet. He observes closely at the pink of your tongue when you swipe it along your bottom lip before tucking the plush flesh between your teeth. He looks into your eyes and invades your personal space again. The sharp side of his blade is barely pressed into the side of your neck.

“I’ve watched blood drain from bodies. I’ve watched their lives fade from their eyes while fear is still held in them,” he speaks calmly, his voice no louder than a humming whisper. “Tell me, pretty thing. Why shouldn't I slit your throat from ear to ear?” He oh-so lightly drags the tip of his knife under your ear, across your throat, and to your other ear.

A shiver invades your entire body. Your nipples are incredibly hard and pointed up that you’re positive they’re poking through the sweatshirt. He holds your jaw so you don’t move your head away, the knife now resting beside your head in his tight fist. He hums in though, nostrils barely flaring as he inhales your scent.

“Please,” you whisper brokenly again, your lips brushing against his sharp jaw when he lowers his head to nose at your own jaw.

He lifts his head and tilts it. “You know, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to do a better job begging for your life.” His eyes are on your lips, watching the perfect shape form into a gasping moan. And then, you frantically shake your head.

“Fuck me… please,” you full on whined. Your hands stay grasping onto his arm, fingers digging into the muscle of his flesh. Your thighs fall open wider, unable to stop yourself from grinding up against the hand resting on your panty-covered mound. He gently pressed the tip of his knife under your jaw, and you automatically tilt your head back to avoid any puncture wounds. “I’ll… I’ll do anything for my life. Just please, please, please fuck me.” At the sound of your eager little voice, he decides to give you what you really want.

He lifts his upper body from your own until he’s looming above you on his knees between your thighs. Without breaking eye contact, he wordlessly removes his leather gloves and tosses them to the side. Then, it’s the long, black gown covering his entire body. When he throws it carelessly behind him, you eagerly trace his solid form with your hazy eyes. He adorns a black t-shirt that hugs his frame perfectly; tight in all the right places. The way his eyes hungrily take in your entire self is equivalent to a vicious, carnivorous wolf ready to devour a helpless, herbivorous bunny.

“Your begging sounds a lot more prettier than what I usually hear,” he grins, slowly licking his lips and taking a bite at his bottom lip when you widen your thighs and press your aching knees to your chest, fully opening yourself up for him to devour you whole. “Look at what we have here.” His eyes zero in on the wet spot of your gray panties. He uses the tip of his knife to slowly, and with a feather-like brush, circle your swollen, covered clit. “Easy, sweetheart,” he hums when you gasp.

His baritone voice feels like scorching honey dripping all over your pliant body. The drawl he has after every syllable feels like a cold rush pouring over every nerve before the warmth starts up again. This man, whatever his name is, is going to be the death of you - metaphorically, you hope.

When his knife taps rhythmically onto your clit, you eagerly walied, “Please, please, need it, need you, please, please.” Your hips now have a mind of their own as you grind onto the thigh closer to your dripping core. The rough fabric of his jeans and the thick muscle of his thigh against your clit has your eyes rolling back behind closed lids.

He’s silent, but his eyes are speaking to you. They take you in, head to toe. The dark brown color of his eyes may seem bland to some people, but to you they’re the most expressive you’ve ever seen. Hunger invades them. But one glint is what shocks you, and that’s awe. They’re clear as day in his eyes when he slides the sweatshirt further up your stomach, revealing lines of skin when it stops below your breasts. His bare fingers leave trails of heat when they circle your belly button and play with the waistband of your cotton panties.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles rhetorically, mostly to himself as if he were deep in thought.

But you still answer him. “Fuck me like you want me.” Your voice is no louder than a whisper in the noiseless room. You slide your hands under your head and point your elbows to the ceiling.

His lips part and his eyes widen just barely at your words. He looks down at the knife in his hand and delicately dragged the tip onto your skin, leaving faint, white lines from the light pressure. Your eyes instantly shut when the blade slides under the hip of your panties before a sharp tug yanks the blade upwards, a loud rip sounding before the cloth is cleanly cut. Your teeth sink into your trembling bottom lip when the knife drags across your stomach to the other end of your panties. The process is repeated as the cloth on your hip is cut with a sharp tug of the blade. You hold your breath in anticipation. The knife, at a snail-like pace, slides under the front of your panties, briefly pressing onto your mound before flipping the destroyed fabric down. You’re now bare under your attacker, except for your sweatshirt.

He takes his sweet time to take you in. His focus is the beauty that’s between your legs. The soft curls covering your mound, your puffy cunt lips, the faint shine from the dim light on your slick. His throat felt suddenly dry, eager to drink something, to drink from you specifically. He wonders what you taste like, how you’d react to his lips sucking your clit and his tongue deep inside you. Are you a screamer? Are you a hair puller or a back scratcher? Are you a squirter or does your pussy cream?

Your eyes open when you don’t feel his hands on your skin. When you look up at him, you notice the dark look that suddenly overtakes his expression. The hardness, thick and heavy, hidden beneath his dark jeans has you feeling butterflies within seconds. Your heart beats erratically in your ribcage. You can feel the steady throb between your legs get more intense the more you look at his bulge. You swallow thickly and lick your dry lips. Your hips shift beneath him, pussy clenching around nothing, forcing a drooling pearl of your slick to slide out of your hole and down the crack of your ass. The man’s eyes closely follow the trail.

All hell breaks loose when you decide to take the next step; spreading your thighs wider, knees pressed to your chest, a faint wet noise that both of you can hear of your slick pussy lips sliding against one another before spreading open.

You both don’t break eye contact when the knife clatters to the ground behind him. His large hands with veins spreading up his arms move down to his black belt. The metal clinking of it coming undone has you squirming helplessly, your arms coming down to shove your hands under your knees, almost to refrain yourself from reaching out and touching this man. As his belt is undone, he doesn’t bother removing it as he finally unbuttons and pulls the zipper down. He pushes his pants down to his strong thighs to finally reveal his thickened cock. And my God, was it beautiful; perfect length and thickness, veins on the base and leading to the tip which is flushed a deep red and circumcised, a patch of curls lightly dusting his own pelvis.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” his tone a teasing drawl. “You’re gonna get it good.”

He shuffles closer, one hand grasping his base while the other slides under your sweatshirt, bunching the garment around his wrist as his hand clasps around your throat. Your tits spill out from beneath the fabric, your nipples erect and sensitive from the cold air and his hardened gaze. His leaking tip slaps onto your clit repeatedly, the filthy wet noise has you blushing like a virgin. His pre-cum wets the curls at your mound. With one hand under your knee to keep you spread open and the other clutching at his arm, you have no other choice but to take what he gives.

“Look at you,” he growls, the huskiness of his voice makes you shiver. “You’re ready to get fucked by a killer, huh? What would your pathetic little boyfriend say if he walked in on you getting fucked mercilessly with a knife to your throat while you scream and squirt all over my big dick?”

He grinds his hips up and down, forcing his cock between your pussy lips to coat himself in your drooling slick. Your bitten lips part to let out a wanton moan as your clit gets rubbed and stimulated. With furrowed brows and a snarl on his face, the man notches his leaking tip at your weeping hole, staring down at you with a feral hunger that has you feeling warm everywhere. His entire being clouds your senses; his warmth, his smell, his touch, his voice, him. It was all too overwhelming. With one last agonizingly slow swipe along your clit, his cock enters you in one quick shove. You had no time to moan as it caught you off guard before he started pistoning his hips, fucking you nice and hard at a pace that had you seeing stars, black dots, fuzzy spots, and everything in between.

The burning stretch feels so damn good, and that’s when you start moaning needily. Your mind was foggy as well as your vision. You couldn’t form any coherent sentences or utter a single word. The only sounds you can make are little ‘hhnnnh’ noises that were punched out of you repeatedly.

“Fuck, honey,” he grunts ferociously like a wild animal, the pet name slipping out once he feels your slippery wet walls tighten around his dick, sucking him in deeper and deeper inside your cunt. He has a firm grip on your throat, his thick fingers pressing under your jaw to hold your head steady when his thrusts get more violent.

That’s when you felt it. That unbearable pressure forming and building up in the pit of your stomach, right around where your g-spot is. You grabbed his arm frantically and dug your nails into his golden skin, not even hearing his hiss of pain or noticing the scratch marks you’re leaving etched in his skin. You couldn’t speak, let alone warn him of what’s about to happen. You had no choice but to lie there and get fucked mercilessly without having an opportunity to even breathe. He hasn’t been fucking you for even a minute. He looks down, completely hypnotized at the way you’re swallowing him whole and the way his dick glistens from your wetness. But what draws him in is the way your walls are fluttering rapidly, your pussy getting tighter and tighter that it feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

You peered up at him through heavy lidded eyes with a fucked out expression. He groans low and gravelly when a tear rolls down your temple and your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back. Suddenly, a guttural scream escapes your body, a sound he has never ever heard before and a sound you’ve never ever made - until now. Your hand is suddenly shoving at his stomach, frantically tapping at him. His eyes look between your bodies when your pussy forcefully pushes his dick out before your wetness shoots out and splashes his lower stomach and thighs. Your moans are loud and piercing as you continue squirting your orgasm out of you, your body writhing underneath his, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach, which is him. One hand desperately clutched onto his arm while the other grabbed at the back of his thigh. Your feet push his pants further down to get better access.

“Fuuuuck,” you squealed, high pitched and needy, when his cock is shoved back into you, resuming his rough, brutal pace that makes your body move up and down. If it weren’t for his hand around your throat to firmly hold you down, you’d be rubbing up the carpet from his movements.

“There we go,” he crooned, his grin mocking and arrogant. “All you needed was a good… hard… fucking?” His thrusts are so deep that it has you gasping for air. He lets go of your throat, shrugging your hand off his arm, placing his hands under knees and shoving them to your chest. He watches as your eyes roll completely back into your head, your hands scrabbling across the carpet to ground yourself. He widens his knees to get better access to your dripping cunt. “You fucking squirted all over my dick and you’re… fuck… mmhm... you’re still ready for more.”

He suddenly leans in close, throwing your legs over his arms until the back of your knees are over his elbows and his hands are on the ground on either side of you. From this position, he’s able to angle his hips in a way that allows him to reach your g-spot head-on. Your shoulders and head lift up and off the ground from the stimulation. Your toes are curled and your gasping breaths are music to his fucking ears. Hands are hastily grabbing at his shirt to yank him closer to your body. When your body lies back down, he lowers his upper body, arms tensing and aching from the weight, but he doesn’t complain, not with the way you’re reacting so beautifully.

“Imagine if… if… if I had killed you, sweetheart,” he was struggling to talk now, his words stuttered and breathless in your ear. “Fuuuck… I’d be missing out on fucking this little cunt, hm?”

Your hands grasped his neck, lifting his head up to face his beautiful face directly. He never once stopped his thrusts, only slowing down and giving you deep strokes when he looks into your tear filled, blissful eyes. Without uttering another peep, a pathetic whimper is let out before you’re yanking him down and giving him a desperate kiss - your first kiss of the night. The kiss perfectly describes him; rough, coordinated, and mind blowing. It was a messy kiss, one with twirling tongues and clashing teeth. He’s the first to break away from the breathtaking kiss, his lips swollen and pink and shining from your mixed saliva. He moves your legs from around his arms and rests his upper body on his forearms on either side of your head. His head is buried deep in your neck, inhaling deeply and groaning at your delicate smell.

“Need it,” you squeaked, your feet pushing his pants further down his ass to dig the heels of your feet into the tense muscle, eagerly pulling him in when his thrusts get sloppy and unrhythmic for a second.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He’s panting heavily in your neck, the heat of his breath making you feel warm and tingly all over. One of his large hands lifts up to your face, his thumb swiping at the strands of hair on your sweaty brow.

Your hands are grabbing at his neck again. “Kiss… Kiss me, please.” You don’t care how needy you’re feeling at this moment. You need to feel his lips and tongue on yours again. “Dave… please, please, baby.”

He immediately perks his head up, slowing his hips to a deep grind while your hips twitch and your thighs tremble around his own. His hooked nose gently brushes against yours, feeling like a butterfly's wings fluttering lightly on your skin. You look up at your husband with an expression of awe and desire, desperate to taste him again. When his lips are on yours, you feel like crying and flying. The weight of his body, the warmth of his skin, the thickness of his cock buried deep inside your weeping cunt; it’s enough to make you actually cry. Letting out a choked sob, your fingers are buried in the sweaty strands of his hair.

“Come on, honey,” he hums, eyes never straying from your own. “Do it for me one more time.” His thrusts are getting faster now, his thighs slapping against yours, his balls damp from your wetness and the dark curls at his pelvis grinding into your clit deliciously. “One… more… fuck-ing… time.”

When he lifts his sweatshirt adorning your body further up your chest and wraps his pouty lips around one of your erect nipples, sucking and lightly plucking them with his teeth, you arch your back beautifully and tighten your thighs completely around him, forcing his cock to stay inside you. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream as you plant one foot on the ground and keep your other pressed into his ass. You hump against him, getting your clit rubbed over and over again on his pelvis. You can feel his cock twitching against your swelling walls, the tingling sensation only increasing when Dave grinds so deep inside you that your eyes roll back and you let out a final scream, one that’s hoarse and almost demonic. But he fucking loves it, each and every sound you make no matter how quiet or how loud.

“Out, out, out!” You practically yell at him, kicking your legs against his thighs and frantically shoving at him to lift up. He does as you asked, quickly pulling out and staring in awe as wetness spurts out of you and onto his lower stomach and thighs again, little droplets sliding down his faint happy trail and dampening his dark curls around his cock.

His hand is quick to wrap around his base, stroking up and down at a quick pace, using your wetness as the perfect lubrication for the smooth movements. You keep your thighs spread open, allowing him to see your pussy in all its glory; your gaping hole with your clear cum dribbling down, your labia and pussy lips allowing your swollen clit to be shown, and the hair on your mound dark and damp. The throbbing up his base and around his tip increase when his eyes wander up your body and at your exposed tits. Your nipples darkened from his nibbling sucks, little love bites marking your soft and supple flesh. His eyes trail higher and higher until he looks right at your face. The teasing grin you wear on your lips, the blissful expression you have, along with the noticeable light in your shiny eyes has his tip leaking profusely.

“Where… mmph… do you want me, sweetheart?” His breathing becomes labored and his stomach and thighs tense when he reaches the brink of his orgasm. His kiss swollen lips part to repeat the question, but the words die down in his throat when you reach down to spread your pussy lips open and clench around nothing. That was enough to send Dave over the edge as he quickly shuffles closer and shoves his cock right back inside your delicious cunt.

His head is thrown back, showcasing his bobbing Adam’s apple as his choked moans are struggling to get released from the power his orgasm holds. You feel the warm, thick spurts of his cum shooting inside you, coating your walls in the sticky, creamy liquid. You watch him closely. You’re sure that if you saw yourself from someone else’s eyes, you’d see hearts floating above your head. You watch his chest move up and down at a quick pace as he breathes in deeply through his nose to regulate his breathing. When the twitching of his cock comes to an end, Dave gapes at his cum oozing out of you slowly, even though he was still snug inside of your pussy. Did he really cum that much?

“Fuck,” is all he can say.

When you let out a soft laugh under the palm of your hand, he looks at you with a crooked grin, the little dimple on his cheek deepening when his grin turns into a beaming smile. He carefully pulls out of you, a sopping wet, squelching sound soon follows. You close your thighs in embarrassment and swat at Dave when he lets out a gruff chuckle. With his pants still down at his knees and his sweatshirt still pushed up your chest, he takes his time to admire you. You flush under his gaze.

“What?” You ask him, your voice quiet and shy.

He moves closer to you on his knees, bending down low to brush his lips against yours teasingly. Your eyes fall shut and your palms cup his clean shaven face. “You just blow me away,” he tells you quietly, almost embarrassed at his little confession to you, his wife.

You breathlessly giggle and bite down on your lip to refrain from bursting into happy laughter. You open your eyes and look up at your husband who stares at you with pure love and a hint of hunger in his eyes. “Ditto,” you whisper tenderly to him, using one hand to push up his flattened, sweaty hair.

The second you both lean in to kiss, rapid knocking comes from your front door. You jolt from the sudden pounding and loudness, your heart jumping from the brief fright. Dave looks down at you with confusion and you stare up at him equally as confused. Your name is shouted from the other side of the door, and you recognize it as one of your neighbors next door, an elderly woman named Patricia, or Patty. She shouts your name again, this time jiggling the door knob frantically while pounding her fist into your door. You and Dave are hurriedly getting up from the ground, worried that something had happened to Patty or her husband Jerry. You can hear Jerry also shouting your name behind the door as he moves up and down your porch, knocking on the windows loudly. You limp over to the door, hissing and wincing at the strong ache settling between and around your thighs. When you rush to unlock the door, you can feel Dave’s presence behind you. You hear him grunt quietly, assuming that he’s tucking himself back into his boxers.

When your name is shouted once more, you yank the door open and look back and forth from Patty to Jerry. The fear and worry is quickly replaced with relief when they see you standing there, alive.

“We thought you were dead!” Patty nearly shrieked, quickly pulling you down so she can wrap her arms around you and caress your messy hair. “We heard screams coming from here and banging and we thought something happened to you!” She pulls back and holds you at arms length, her eyes scanning you for any injuries.

“Uh,” you stuttered and gaped at Dave, wordlessly begging him to say something, to come up with some stupid excuse. But Jerry beat him to it.

“Darlin’,” Jerry clears his throat and pats his wife’s shoulder gently with a wrinkled hand while he pinches the bridge of his nose with the other, not looking at either you or your husband. “Seems they were a little… um… busy.”

Patty looks up at him in confusion, slowly removing her hands from arms before her eyes scan you once again. She finally understands what her husband was talking about. Your bare thighs and disheveled hair. Dave’s undone belt and pants that are sliding down his hips a little, along with his own disheveled hair and scratch marks on his neck from your desperate grasp. Patty looks behind you both and into your home. Her eyes spot your destroyed, cut up panties and the crooked carpet in the hallway.

“Oh!” She gasps and covers her face in embarrassment, laughing to herself and shaking her head. “Well… glad to say you’re doing well, honey.” She lowers her hands and pats your own gently, still laughing when she notices Jerry looking at the neighborhood street with his hands on his hips and his back facing the three of you. “You both have a good night, yeah?”

“Our apologies, Patty,” you told her, the feeling of guilt so overwhelming from causing an elderly couple such fear. “We’ll be sure to… keep it down. Right, Dave?” You elbowed his side.

“Yes, of course. Again, we’re terribly sorry for scaring you folks,” he tells Patty, lowering down to her small height to give her wrinkly cheek a small kiss and a rub on her arm. “You alright, Jerry?”

You watch in amusement when Jerry nods his head wordlessly, never turning around as he gives you both a thumbs up over his shoulder. Patty jokingly rolls her eyes, gives Dave an affectionate pat on the hand, and turns back around to hold her husband by the elbow to carefully step down the stairs. You both watch them make their way to their house next door and finally go back inside once the elderly couple shut their door. You lean against your own and huff out a sigh.

“Oh, come on, honey. It wasn’t that bad,” he tells you, his grin never falling from his stupidly handsome face.

“Dave,” you exasperatedly say, motioning around with your hands animatedly. “My sex noises nearly gave our 90-year-old neighbors a goddamn heart attack!”

You’re caught off guard when he suddenly crowds your space, placing one hand beside your head as his arm wraps tight around your waist to lift you with a familiar type of strength that is always surprising. You let out a shocked gasp and quickly wrap your thighs around his hips and your arms around his broad shoulders. Your head knocks back into the door with a thud. The sweatshirt bunches around your hips as you feel his hardness against your still wet pussy. Biting at your bottom lip, you keep your eyes closed when you feel his cock slide against your cunt, coating himself in your mixed cum before shoving himself inside for a third time that night.

“Lets see if I can have you make those noises again,” he grunts against your throat. And with that, he begins to fuck you again.

#dave york x reader #dave york smut #dave york #THANK YOU ERI FOR PUTTING THAT LITTLE CROSSED OUT NOTE IN YOUR HEADCANON #once again i apologize for making this longer than i anticipated #I JUST GET SO INTO IT #this was so damn filthy oh my lord #i need to go touch some grass

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