#just because someone's 18 doesn't need they immediately need to get a job; go to college; or get a place

[skullzy20]

Y'know I am so sick and tired of adults placing the highest expectations on 18 year olds to start life when they're just becoming an adult

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[gothsoyl]

*pops into existence*

succubus rio.

*fades out of existence*

┊┊┊⁺ ⁺ DECEMBER CHALLENGE

"Sharp tongue" +18

succubus!rio vidal x reader

word count: 1,3k

summary: you met a strange woman in church and now you see her every night in… tempting dreams

note: I LOVED THIS IDEA SO MUCH sorry it took so long...

you've never been a religious person. you could hardly tell how you felt about all this, but that didn't stop you from coming to church from time to time, just sitting there listening to the whispers of people around and getting lost in your own thoughts. 

you didn't pray or think about the sins you had committed, you didn't go to listen to the pastor and you didn't tell the priest about what happened to you. you just sat and enjoyed the silence, which in this place wasn’t annoying, but on the contrary calming…

“what are you thinking about?”

you flinch in surprise when you hear someone's voice, and immediately raise your head, noticing a woman on the bench next to you. you frown a little, examining her carefully. did you really get so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice her? she's been sitting here for a long time.

“oh, just… nothing really,” you shrug and want to look away from the weird stranger, but you can't. there's something about her that attracts your gaze... maybe because she's beautiful? or is there something in her dark eyes that makes you want to get closer and…

“I see you here a lot,” the woman smiles, but you don't feel the warmth from it. instead, a strange chill runs down your back, but even this doesn’t help you – even so, you can’t force yourself to look away or leave altogether in order to avoid an unexpected conversation, “you don’t look like a deeply religious person.”

“and how did you figure that out? do I need to sit in a monk's uniform?” you arched an eyebrow slightly, finding this woman's comment (what's her name anyway?) strange. some part of you, for some reason, was ready to be told off for sitting in church just like that, “and by the way, this is the first time I've seen you, too.”

but, instead of answering something, the stranger chuckled. her lips stretched into a wide and sly smile, and her eyes flashed with something. you still can’t understand what it was. 

“sharp tongue... I like it,” she finally nodded and leaned a little closer, abruptly extending her hand towards you and tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. you were so taken aback by such insolence that you didn't even have time to react in any way. the stranger immediately pulled away and stood up, straightening her long black dress, “see you later, darling.” 

the woman doesn't even give you a chance to answer – she just walks away, leaving you with a strange feeling somewhere inside and with the question “what was that all about?".

you look down and unconsciously brush the hair that her fingers touched with your fingers.

***

you arch your back, feeling her cold fingers slide slowly down your spine, counting every bone.

you wake up in a cold sweat, clutching the sheet under you with your fingers. It was just a dream.

your hips intuitively move towards her hands, and your breathing is so short that your throat starts to hurt.

what's wrong with you? you saw this woman once in church.

her body is pressed tightly against yours and you can feel her hard nipples rubbing against your skin, making you want more. 

how many times have you had this dream? you need to calm down... it's not normal.

she whispers sweet words in your ear, but you can hardly distinguish them. all you can think about is how much you want to feel her fingers between your legs. at some point you start rubbing your hips against her, unable to restrain yourself. she just laughs and bites your shoulder.

you see her every day. at one point you thought it was a coincidence, but you're not sure anymore. she's not here – she's not at your job, she's not at the bar where you're relaxing with friends, she's not at your parents' house when you come to visit them.

“please...” her fingers move in sharp squelching movements, making you moan with every thrust. your walls shrink around her and you grab onto her tightly, your nails scratching her back.

are you going crazy? 

“please, I can't do this anymore...”

it annoyed you so much in the beginning, but the longer you saw her, the more often you moaned in your dreams... the more you began to wish that this time she was real.

“rio, please...”

***

you wake up in the middle of the night. again. 

but not because of another dream with that woman from the church that you called rio... no…

now you clearly feel something cold, at the same time gentle, touching your leg. 

you sit up straight in an instant, looking up and noticing her. 

her lips were twisted in a devilish smile, and her dark eyes were even darker, almost black – they only reflected the small rays of light that oozed from the street lamp.

“what are you doing here? who the fuck are you?!” you don't even notice how your voice gets louder with every word. you practically scream, trying to pull away from her touch, but the stranger just grins, coming closer and sitting on the bed next to you.

“I think you know what I'm doing,” she laughs in a low voice and throws the blanket off you, the cool air touches your bare legs, which you immediately tuck under yourself, “I thought you liked it. you wanted this so badly in your dreams.”

she laughs and you feel goosebumps all over your body. you don't understand what's going on and how she got into your apartment. but what scares you the most is how your body literally screams that it wants to feel her touch you.

“who are you?” you ask again, watching as she studies you from the bottom up, her gaze slides over your legs and stops slightly on your chest, which is heaving so feverishly.

“I'm rio,” she smiles broadly and leans closer again, putting her hands on either side of you and looming over you, “demon... succubus... whatever you want to call it. guess why I’m here?”

she doesn't even give you time to comprehend her words – she immediately covers your lips with her own and you feel the remnants of rationality leave your body. who in their right mind would let a crazy woman who broke into your apartment kiss themselves? who is in their right mind…

you don't think – you kiss her back so greedily, as you’ve been dreaming about it all your life. your body is so soft and supple under her touch. you literally melt when her cold fingers crawl under your nightgown, exploring the delicate skin and squeezing your breasts, forcing you to moan into her lips. 

you lean forward and she doesn't waste time ripping off your clothes roughly and for a second the sound of tearing fabric hangs in the air, but you don't care about that. your tongue dances in her mouth, your body squirms under her, wanting more. 

“not so sharp-tongued anymore?” rio pulls away with a predatory smile, and you breathe fast and deeply, trying to grab the missing air with your lips. her hands are already demanding to spread your legs and she presses her whole body against you, biting your neck and licking fresh hickeys, making you see the stars.

“you need to control yourself,” you try to tell yourself, but you still can't follow this advice when rio's deft fingers start stroking you between the folds, collecting the moisture of your arousal. 

you start whining, start rubbing your hips against her in search of the release that your body demanded. 

“well, well... have a little patience,” rio whispers and the room sinks into moans and wet sounds that make you go completely crazy.

[covetyou]

no shortage of sordid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x m!OC (unnamed) rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: very dubious consent (not from reader), oral sex (m receiving from m), voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, brief mention of food and allusion to hunger, unnamed m!OC, m/m, Joel is not exactly gay he's just a domineering asshole, drug reference word count: 3.1k summary: Your deal with Joel has changed into something else, something different to when you first came to his door asking for help months ago. But, when you try to take him up on your new arrangement, you're met with something you never expected.

A/N: this was originally a much shorter deleted scene from the start of the dark caress of someone else. I took it out because it was too much and after writing that chapter I told myself I would avoid writing threesomes for as long as possible, because god damn it there's too many body parts. well, me, fuck you, this is threesome adjacent and not technically a threesome at all.

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Six days. That's how long it takes for you to cave and admit you want him. It takes you another two to do anything about it.

The first time you make the trip to Joel's apartment, no pills necessary, you're faced with silence and a door that won't open.

With an hour break between your jobs the next day, you make another attempt. But, you barely make it through the market when you see him trailing behind Tess, hulking figure parting the crowd with ease. You don't stop to see where they're going, instead choosing to turn on your heel and head back the way you came. The less you know, the better. Using the cards he handed back to you nine days ago, you stop by a street food vendor on your way to your next job, eating your first hot meal not only of that day, but that week, the warm food soothing more than just the emptiness in your stomach.

It takes you much longer to convince yourself to try on the third day. Your thoughts hadn't immediately gone to Joel Miller that morning. You had toyed with going for a walk, with seeing if you could pick up more work. But soon your hands ache, bones creaking in their joints as you clench them once again, trying to stave off the want in your belly with the pinch of nails digging into your palms.

Fuck it. You're going. Whether he's there or not, the need to get out of this apartment far outweighs the desire to stay warm inside it.

So, one gray trudge across a gray Boston to a gray apartment block later, you're at his door. Again.

Only this time there's not silence on the other side.

You can hear a murmur - undoubtedly Joel by the heavy rasp of a wry laugh that follows it - and a garbled whimper.

And, of course, you could leave. You could turn your back and leave Joel up to whatever it is, whoever it is, he's doing in there, but you don't. You knock, wanting him to know that even if he's occupied, you showed up. You came to him, not for pills, but for sex. For want, for desire, for the ease of the ache between your legs and the itch in your palms that just won't quit no matter how much you make yourself come.

Even with company, he doesn't make you wait long.

So it's not that you're not expecting the shuffle of two sets of feet. Or the thud on the door, heavy and dull like something big had caught itself before falling down. You knew he wasn't alone and, after all, the only thing you could really expect when visiting Joel was that nothing would be as expected.

No, that's not what surprises you at all.

What surprises you is when the door drifts open a fraction, a disembodied hand reaching through and pulling you through the gap, dragging you inside. What surprises you is tripping over his shoes, only they're not his shoes, the feet turned the wrong way up to belong to the all too familiar man standing before you.

What surprises you is seeing a man on his knees in front of Joel Miller.

It surprises you so much, you don't even notice as the door clicks shut and the hand that dragged you inside pulls you once again to stand at his side.

From here you can get a full view. There's a man on his knees in front of Joel. Joel's pants are unbuckled and pulled low on his hips. And then, the entire scene becomes very, very clear.

There is a man on his knees in front of Joel with his cock in his mouth.

So, when Joel looks at you with a glint in his eye, you're suddenly rooted to the spot, staring between him and the man beneath him. A smirk from Joel tells you you've been looking a little too long so, embarrassed and not quite sure what to do with yourself, you spin around, turning to inspect the back of a chair as if it was the most interesting thing in the room, not the man currently bobbing his head up and down on Joel's length.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he drawls from behind you. "Ain't no fun for me if you ain't lookin'."

As you always do where Joel is concerned, you do as you're told, taking a deep breath as you turn back to watch the man swallow down Joel's cock. You'd seen this kind of thing before - turned down the wrong street at the wrong time more than once only to see someone on their knees for someone else, earning yourself a wink or an insult for the privilege. But you never stayed to watch. Yet, here you are, staying and watching either because it was Joel, or because he asked, you weren't too sure.

The why doesn't exactly matter, you figure, not when your cheeks were rapidly heating and the wet patch in your panties was doing nothing but grow.

"Think he likes the audience too," Joel is saying, nodding down to the guy on his knees. "Don't you?"

You can see that he does. There's a hard bulge in the front of his pants, a bulge that looks much harder than the cock currently in his mouth.

"Dick always so hard for a straight guy. Think you like being a cocksucker." Joel gives the man an awkward pat on the head and huffs out a laugh, looking away from him to look back at you.

"Likin' what you see, sweetheart?" he jokes, casting dark eyes up and down your body. He can't see much. It's still fucking freezing, which is no surprise for a February in Boston, and you're still wrapped up against the elements because of it. But you know his gaze is looking through all of it, seeing through the layers straight down to your flesh, to your hard nipples and the wetness between your legs. He raises that infuriating, knowing, eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"'m serious, you gotta keep lookin' or I'm never gonna come," he says then, and you drag your eyes back in an instant. You briefly wonder why - how - he would never come from this until it hits you.

Having a man suck his dick isn't Joel Miller's idea of a good time. Whoever the man on his knees is, he owes Joel. Maybe just like you did, or maybe worse. It doesn't matter, because you're not witnessing a blow job, you're witnessing a fucking business transaction.

And so you laugh - not at Joel, or the man, not really, but at the entire fucked situation and the world that brought you to this place.

"Y'hear that?" Joel growls down at the man. "She's laughin' at you."

Pinching his eyes shut, the man groans, and you swear you can see a dark patch starting to form on the front of his pants. It almost feels wrong, looking at another mans bulge like this when Joel's cock is right there, disappearing in and out of the strangers mouth at a languid pace. You can't even ask his name - his mouth too full to get out more than a garbled moan. Maybe names don't matter either.

Joel's eyes haven't left you, and yours haven't left the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He's harder now, softness completely gone now that you're here to witness it. Giving and watching a blow job are so much different to what you expected. There's a wet sound in the air, for one. That rhythmic, wet noise of a throat being fucked was usually masked by your own moans, made easy to ignore by the distraction filling your mouth. But here, several steps away, it is loud.

"That's it. Keep your eyes right there," Joel murmurs before pointing to your outer layer. "Unzip your coat, lemme see. Get those pretty tits out for me, sweetheart. Don't mind him. He ain't gonna look. Are you?"

The man groans again, keeping his eyes shut as his head bobs on Joel's cock, taking an impressive amount of him down his throat with each movement. There's a small shake of his head, and while you don't believe him, you find you don't care either. You don't know the man on the floor any more than he knows you, and you have a feeling he's likely to keep his mouth shut once he leaves Joel's apartment today anyway.

A fraction of a second later, you're pulling your jacket open and yanking your sweater up above your tits, baring them to Joel. He murmurs something to himself, fisting his shirt tightly as he holds it up, exposing his belly. It strikes you then how damn distracted you had been every time before now - Joel's fingers, or tongue, or cock working you in such a way that you were brainless and oblivious to the physical affects you had on him. Now, its obvious. Like a man possessed, he watches you with blown eyes, his cock in full hardness now as the man below him works him over with his mouth and tongue.

Dragging cool fingers down your exposed chest, you meet your already pebbled nipples, pinching them and holding back a soft gasp. It's as much for you as it is to get a reaction from Joel, and if he didn't know you were wet before, he does now.

"That's it, play with 'em. And keep watching, sweetheart. Want you to watch when I come down his throat."

It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but certainly not a chore. The man has picked up his pace, sucking and moaning around Joel's length as he slurps it down. He holds back a splutter when Joel's hips buck forward just as you pinch your nipples harder again, squeezing the flesh of your tits in cold palms.

"Fuuck, that's it, keep watchin'. You like that? Bet you want a taste of this dick too, huh?"

You nod, words stuck in your throat as Joel presses the mans head further into his crotch, rocking his hips to fuck lightly into his mouth.

"You needy and dripping over there ain't you?" he growls. He doesn't wait for you to nod, he doesn't need to. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Dirty fuckin' girl, watching my dick gettin' sucked. You like watching, don't you? Say it. Wanna hear it."

"I like it. I like watching, Joel," you say, barely more than a whisper as you become more and more entranced by Joel's cock in the mans mouth.

"Shit. Keep watchin'. Gonna come. Need you to watch."

It's all you can do to hold back a moan, your panties now probably ruined by your dripping, neglected cunt. This was not what you came here for, but watching Joel mumble obscenities and growl filth to you and the man on his knees as he gets his cock sucked was something you never knew you wanted before now. Sure, you want to touch, to play with him yourself. But watching is getting you wetter and wetter without even a finger or the press of your thighs to help you along the way.

"That's it. You keep suckin'. Fuck. Gonna bet you want this load in you not in him, right?"

Nodding frantically, you move a hand to your waistband, a soft plea on your lips, ready to pull your pants down any second. "Please - "

"Fuck - shit - well too bad, sweetheart. You look at that dick gettin' sucked. Shit - gonna come. Look at me. I said look at me."

Your eyes meet his just as they flutter closed. Joel groans a curse, his balls starting to empty into the throat of the man in front of him until he's suddenly tugging the mans hair, pulling his mouth off of his cock. The man gasps, swallowing down what he can as Joel rapidly strokes his spit soaked length, jerking the remains of his spend over the mans face and mouth. His eyes immediately flick to yours, a soft moan having left your own lips the moment Joel started to come, and he groans again, a final spurt coating the mans chin, soaking his facial hair. It's filthy. Not the most filthy thing you know Joel's done, but the most filthy thing you've ever seen him do from the outside. You can't help but stare on in silence, too captivated by the spurts of milky white dripping over the mans face, his eyes still screwed tight. You're aching and desperate to stick a hand down your pants, to feel how wet you are, to touch your clit and make yourself come as you try to hold yourself upright on shaky legs.

Through syrupy blood pulsing in your ears you hear Joel growl down at the man, removing his hand from his hair like it's burned his palm. Then, he's looking to you again, deep brown eyes searching your own before falling down, down to where your hand cups your breast and your other fists the waistband of your pants in a tight grip. He knows - knows that even if you came here already wet and wanting, you were even more so now.

And it's with a smirk and a sharp snap of his fingers that he pulls you back into the room. The man's eyes are open now, avoiding yours as he wipes cum from his face with his sleeve, covertly licking his lips for any remnant taste of Joel. You can't blame him, fuck knows you'd done the same when Joel had swiped a taste of himself over your own lips, but you can't help the jealousy at wanting to taste again too.

It's then you remember your exposed chest, and you yank your sweater back down without another glance to the man on his knees. Joel shakes his head, a shit eating grin spreading across his face as he strides across the room. He goes to the cupboard where you know he keeps a small amount of his stock, rifling through for a second before coming back with a baggy and tossing it down on the floor at the mans knees. He scrambles for it immediately, climbing to his feet and grabbing the door. Joel doesn't look at him again.

"Say hello to your wife for me," Joel calls over his shoulder, and the man scurries away without a word.

Now it's just you and him, his unbuttoned pants the only remaining evidence of what just happened.

You hesitate, partly in stunned silence, partly your brain having turned to liquid between your ears, all coherent thought lost the moment Joel's cum spurted across the mans face. But there's still that unsatisfied ache between your legs, throbbing and making your hand twitch, willing you to reach for him now that he's so close.

Joel sees it, he knows, knows what you came here for and knows what you won't be getting.

"Not today, sweetheart. Couldn't even if I tried," he says gesturing to his spent already dick tucked back into his pants. "Gotta head out again too, so whatever you got goin' on in those panties, you gotta deal with it yourself." He finishes with a wink and a tap to your chin before grabbing a small gym bag from the couch. You hadn't even seen it there, brain too occupied by more interesting things happening in this room at the time.

So it's no surprise, really, when your mouth starts running before your mind can process what it's doing. There's only one thing you're thinking of. One thing, aside from the throb in your core, that you can't stop thinking about, that envy won't let you give up.

"Would you - " your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish while your mind stutters and stops. You shouldn't even ask. There's no answer that can satisfy that particular itch. Not as quickly as you'd want it, at least. If he said yes, he'd already said nothing could happen right now, and if he said no, well... there was something about the thought of him denying you that did something to you too. There was no winning.

"Would I what?"

Of course, Joel had already heard. Even as he potters about the apartment, dumping stuff into the bag from places you've not been paying attention to. He stops, prompting you to go on.

"Would you... Would you come in my mouth like that? One time?"

He stares at you with his mouth open in disbelief. "You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly so fucking dry you can't speak anymore. You'd been salivating, able to practically taste the phantom flavor of Joel's cum on your tongue just a moment ago. Now, it was like you'd been chewing on bricks, tongue sticky and dry and your teeth feeling like an awkward jumble in your mouth.

"Well, shit. Call the press. Respectable good girl wants to be my little cocksucker -"

"Fine, if you're going to make fun, I don't -"

"Woah, hold on, I'm fuckin' with you. I ain't gonna turn down shutting that pretty mouth up with my dick. Gotta do it more than one time though, sweetheart. You around tomorrow?"

Between jobs and your dad having a day off, it would be a few days before you could come back. Shaking your head, you offer up Thursday instead. It's only three days away. You can make it three more days. Right?

"Thursday works for me. Come by in the afternoon. I'll come in that mouth, and then I'll play with that pussy while I get worked up again," he says before adding, with a cock of his head, "Then I'll come in that too."

And you're dumbstruck - the fantasy you concocted in your own head far surpassed by Joel's own, seemingly thought up right on the spot as he maneuvers you out into the hallway.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He pushes you out of the door, fingers electrified where they touch your shoulder. You expect the door to snap shut behind you, like it has so many times before, but he follows you out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a wink, he stalks off down the corridor, legs carrying him out of the apartment block too quick for you to keep up.

Later that night, alone in bed and wondering how the hell you're going to last two more days like this, you rub yourself stupid to thoughts of Joel's cock in a mouth that isn't yours.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[samcrosfaith]

WITCHCRAFT 🔮

Jax Teller x random fem!oc because I suck at writing character x reader.

warning ⚠️; 18+, a little bit of smut towards the end, paranormal stuff like witchcraft and blood.

a/n; please feel free to leave requests in my ask box for Halloween and Christmas One Shots. Happy and Jax only please because I'm not good at writing the other characters lol. If you have a specific wish/look/backstory for your OC, please let me know— otherwise I'll come up with something. 🦇🎃🕸️

If you want to get tagged in future Halloween and Christmas One Shots just let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the tag list! 🤎🍂

this was requested by one of my lovely Wattpad followers!

tag list; @ravennaortiz

word count; about 2.5k

Nola lifted her head as the front door slammed shut and Jax stormed into the kitchen, knowing from the smell of herbs that he would find his Old Lady there. No one but him knew what she was, how special she really wasᅳ and that was a good thing, for her own protection.

He knew that his club would be able to deal with it after they declared him crazy first, and maybe Jax would tell his brothers about Nola's abilities at some pointᅳ but only when his Old Lady was ready. Until then, she continued to secretly help lead the club on the right path, mainly by helping Jax talk to his dead fatherᅳ rarely, after all, it was no longer white magic once you summoned the dead.

But sometimes Jax needed the guidance that only John could give him, as much as he hated using his Old Lady for thatᅳ but Nola was happy to help, in any situation. When someone in the club was injured, she worked in the background to make sure that the healing happened much faster or that something worse could be prevented.

But that wasn't all. Thanks to Nola, Jax had learned to love again, to let warmth back into his cold heart after Tara had run off again two years ago and tried to take his sons away from him. In the end, Tara had agreed to leave the boys with him as long as she could see them both regularly, and finally moved to Oregon to take on her new job.

And when Nola came into his life about six months later, it hit him like a truck. Something about this woman had drawn him in immediately, the shimmer in her greenish eyes so strong that it felt like she could see into his soul, as if she knew exactly what he neededᅳ and shortly afterwards he had found out why.

The fact that she was a witch was a shock at first, but it made no difference. It was her person he loved, for whom he would go over dead bodies. And she would do the same for him, as he'd soon find out.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was sharp, different than usual, as if she knew something bad had happened. "What happened, Jax?"

She took a step closer, tentatively reaching for his wrists as he ran his hands down his face in despair, anger flashing in his glassy eyes. "Tara took the boys. She's gone, Nola, just gone."

He watched as Nola stumbled back, her face twisted in shock as she let the news sink in. One hand flew to her chest, the other used to brace herself against the doorframe, just as broken as he was.

Nola loved the boys as if they were her own and Jax had mentioned often enough that she was more of a mother than Tara ever had. But the doctor still had a right to see the kids because Thomas was her biological son and Jax was stupid enough to sign half of the rights to Abel over to her years ago.

"She took my babies?", she asked through a sob before blind rage overcame her. Her gaze turned cold, her eyes shining dangerously. "Do you have anything from her? It doesn't matter what, even a photo is enough."

"Can such a spell harm the baby?" Jax asked, gently grabbing her hand before casting a worried glance at her not-yet-visible baby bump. "If so, we'll find another way, babe."

"No, it can't. She'll pay for this. She can't just keep coming into our lives and ruining it by taking our babies", Nola seethed, tears of anger at Tara and fear for her children welling up in her eyes. "She'll feel the consequences."

"As much as I want that", Jax began seriously, pulling her flush against him before placing a hand against her cheek. "I don't want you to put yourself and our daughter in danger."

"You don't even know if it's a girl", she murmured quietly, seeking refuge in his arms, her head resting on his chest. "I've been a witch my whole life, Jax. I know what I'm doing, let me help."

"I just have a feeling", he mumbled against her long, raven-black hair before he placed a kiss on the top of her head, gently pushing her away by her arms. "Are you sure about this, darlin'?"

"Yes, absolutely sure", she assured him eagerly. The young woman could never do anything that could harm her own flesh and blood. "And now bring me something from Tara so I can find the bitch."

ᅳ

An hour later, Nola was sitting at the large dining table in the small but perfect house in which Jax and the kids now lived with her, the room dark due to the drawn curtains. Only the light of a few candles illuminated the dining room with soft light.

The words Nola spoke were barely understandable, but Jax still tried to figure out what exactly his Old Lady was saying; to no avail. However, concern rose in him when some blood dripped from her nose and her voice vibrated more strongly. But before he could say anything, his hand already resting on her shoulder, her eyes shot open.

"Done", she purred softly and pointed to the candles in front of her, which was placed right above an old picture of Tara, the only one Jax had found in a box in the garage. Next to it was another candle with a picture of Thomas and Abel. "The candles have to burn until they burn outᅳ don't blow them out. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write down the address of the motel."

"Why, if you've already found her?" Jax asked, standing up and coming back with a piece of paper, a pen and a tissue. "Why is your nose bleeding, Nola? I told youᅳ"

"I'm fine, baby", Nola hummed, placing a hand against his arm before taking the things with a soft 'thank you'. Only when the address was written on paper did she wipe the blood from her nose. "I want to come with you, and before you say noᅳ"

This time Jax interrupted her with a gentle kiss, caressing her cheek as he slid the note into his pocket. "We'll do this together, babe, you and me."

Nola smiled gratefully. "Then let's go, I wanna look her in the eyes again before it's too late."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Jax' chair slid across the floor with a squeak as he stood up after Nola, who was covering the candles with special glasses so nothing could happen. "What did you do?"

"I told you she would feel it", she shrugged nonchalantly, grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. "Come on, I want my babies back."

"Maybe I should stop asking questions", Jax muttered under his breath before they hurried to her SUV so as not to waste any more time.

ᅳ

While Jax and Nola were on their way to the motel just a few miles outside of Charming, Tara was thinking of a plan to hide with the kids until she suddenly felt a scratchy pain in her throat that was getting stronger by the second.

On her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water, she was overcome by a coughing fit. Everything in her chest tightened, taking away her ability to breathe. Panic rose in her as she was unable to stop the coughing. She brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped for air, her eyes growing as she noticed the blood in her palm.

"What theᅳ", she couldn't say more, the words just a broken croak.

A sharp pain shot through her chest, sending her to the floor in panic. Trying to sit on her knees, her upper body arched in pain. The doctor began to gag until blood gushed out of her mouth like a waterfall.

The liquid seeped into the floor, staining the beige carpet a crimson red. Her panicked gaze fell on the boys, who had both fallen asleep at the same time about twenty minutes ago, and nothing seemed to wake them upᅳ  and Tara wasn't exactly quiet.

It was weird, but the boys' chests were rising and falling at regular intervals, so they had to be okay.

Tara crawled across the floor to get to her bag, and again she threw up blood, this time it even gushed out of her nose, causing her to roll onto her back and clutch her throat hastily, out of pure reflex.

With each long cough, blood spurted upwards, covering her face. This was her end, she could feel it. If she didn't get to the hospital within a few minutes, she would dieᅳ that much was certain.

Tara jerked her head to the side as the door swung open, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as Nola and Jax stormed into the room, the latter closing the door behind him.

"You bitch!" It was Nola who approached Tara first, kicking the doctor in the ribs, not surprised at the sightᅳ after all, she was responsible for it. "Did you really think you could take my kids?", the woman let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she slowly crouched down and brushed a few strands of Tara's short hair out of her face, smiling as the woman twitched and whimpered under her touch. "How are you feeling? You made quite a mess here."

"Babe, what is this?" Jax looked at the two women, not quite sure what he was staring at exactly.

He didn't care about Tara, but he didn't want Nola to have to take such steps just because his life was pure chaos. "I don't want you to kill anyone for me."

"Baby, I really love you", Nola began with a deep sigh, looking up at her fiancé. "But it's not always all about you. The bitch took our kids and kept trying to ruin our livesᅳ I've had enough."

Lifting an eyebrow, Jax was at a loss for words, not sure what to say, but his chest still filled with pure pride. His Old Lady could be a bitch, a protective one, and that was hot as hell.

"Alright, do what makes you happy, darlin'", he said, lifting his hands before he stopped behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. "But what about the boys? I don't want them to see this."

"Don't worry, they'll sleep until we blow out the candles", she reassured him, frowning. "Do you really think I would've risked our kids seeing that? You should know me better, handsome."

Jax rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving her an apologetic smile. "Sorry babe, that's not what I meant."

When Tara reached for help and grabbed Nola's wrist, Nola pulled her arm back in disgust, her eyes darkening. "I could make this stop", she said with a sweet smile, making Tara nod frantically. "On one condition.."

Nola closed her eyes, hummed a few words to herself and tapped Tara's forehead with the tip of her index finger for a few seconds, making Tara's coughing fit stop immediately.

Tara rolled onto her stomach as panicked sobs left her throat, tears streaming down her pale face. Only when she realized what had just happened did she sit down on her butt and slid as far away from Nola as possible, her features twisted in shock.

"Oh, so now you're scared?" Jax sneered angrily, his steps heavy as he slowly walked towards Tara and crouched down in front of her, Nola right next to him. "What do we learn from this?"

"Iᅳ I'm sorry", Tara choked out, bursting into tears as she pulled her legs against her trembling body. "Please..please don't hurt me!"

"Aww, she's even begging!" Nola snorted a laugh, her face only inches away from Tara's. "Here's what's going to happen. You go back to Oregon, never set foot in Charming again, and never think or talk of us again. If you try anyway, well..",

Nola sighed theatrically, almost as if she was enjoying the idea of hurting the doctor again. "Then next time I'll let you choke miserably on your own bloodᅳ and I'll watch with a smile on my face."

Tara's bitter sobs bounced off the walls, both of her hands covering her mouth to muffle the volume. "Wᅳ what are you?"

"None of your damn business", Jax snarled, his gaze murderously intense as his blue lenses dug into Tara's skull. "Did you hear what Nola said? Are you goin' to listen to her?"

"Yes, yes for God's sake! But please, please let me go", she pleaded, the sight almost heartbreaking if only someone would care about her.

Nola smiled contentedly, pushing herself to her feet. "Okay, then we're done here! Have a nice life, bitch."

While Nola turned around and threw her black hair over her shoulders so she could pick one of their sleeping sons up, Jax glared at Tara again, his gaze nothing but a threat.

"Don't say a word to anyone or you'll wish you never messed with us, Tara",  Jax said, more serious than ever before, his voice was dangerously calm, before he spat at Tara's feet and then picked up Abel before he left the motel room with his family.

ᅳ

Moaning Jax's name, Nola threw her head back, her hands placed on his chest as she moved her hips in circles, his cock buried all the way inside her slick folds.

They had both needed a break after that day, and after spending the evening with their children, they had retreated to the bedroom and wasted no time in ripping off their clothes.

"That's it, darlin', keep goin'", Jax urged with a groan slipping from his lips, slapping her ass as he pushed his hips up, helping her out a little.

He felt his climax building, so he brought a hand to Nola's full breasts, kneading one in his palm as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, knowing that Nola never lasted long when her breasts got touchedᅳ this was one way to make her come, always.

"Fuck Jax", the woman on top of him gasped, locking eyes with him, returning Jax' grin, savouring every second as she rode him. "I'm close, baby", she drawled sultry, another moan falling from her plump, dark-red lips.

"Good, let go for me", he demanded encouragingly, licking his lips as his own breathing quickened and his cock twitched inside her. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart."

And that was it. Something in Nola's lower abdomen snapped and a moment later she climaxed, moaning his name loudly as she squirted all over him after Jax rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers again, a gush of fluids now covering his pubes, her long nails leaving bloody welts on his chest.

"Fuck babe", he panted, his voice deep and hoarse as he slid his hand to the back of Nola's neck to pull her head down, his lips brushing hers.

"I love it when you do that", Jax croaked against her lips, an excited whimper falling from them before he pulled her into a sloppy kiss, chasing his own climax.

Nola moaned into the kiss as thick ropes of cum filled her, the warm, thick liquid warming her walls even more. She was already pregnant, so what else could happen?

As she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps, she closed her eyes and sighed softly as Jax ran his long fingers through her raven-black strands.

"I love you, Nola, I hope you know that", he murmured, the weariness slowly becoming audible in his tone as the day took its toll. "Thank you for todayᅳ for getting out boys back."

"I know, don't worryᅳ and I love you, too, more than you know", she hummed, not doubting his words. The advantage of being a witch was that she could tell when someone was being honest or not.

Nola slowly lifted her head, leaving a kiss on his lips. "I think there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and our childrenᅳ and I mean that."

Jax smiled weakly, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone after she rolled off him, laying down next to him. "Good, because I'd do anything for you too, darlin'."

"I know, handsome", Nola smiled again as she laid her head back on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing.

When Jax placed his hand on her bump, like he did every night since they had found out that she was pregnant, their eyelids fluttered shut, both falling into a deep sleep after a few minutes after the eventful day.

[desceros]

i open up my tumblr to get my daily dose of turtle content after an excruciating day and immediately SPAT out my tea seeing what was happening in the rottmnt tumblr community like?? oh my god thats WILD

i presume you're referring to the dragon situation which is. well. it sure is fucking something i'll tell you that.

it's my understanding that she's currently being told she didn't do anything wrong which. ok. i'm going to need people to understand something. there are two big reasons to Why this is Such a Huge Fucking Deal.

interacting, sexually, with adults (which dragon lied about her age to do) is harmful for kids. it puts them directly into explicitly sexual places, which while Mostly Safe, do harbor some people who will latch onto vulnerable people. kids don't have a lot of the real-world experience that adults have that allow them to Spot these asshats and avoid them. kids like validation. they like feeling cool, wanted. and groomers know how to spot people that like these things and give it to them. christ, there are a lot of Adults that get this part wrong. (comprehensive sex education can reduce the chances of this happening, but considering the state of that for children being less than robust, it's safe to assume Most kids aren't being taught the sighs of a proper, actual predator and not 'dude in a white van with some candy.')

interacting, sexually, with kids, can get adults into a MASSIVE amount of trouble. there is no recourse for this. it ruins your reputation, it puts you on a fucking List, it can get you jail time, it destroys your ability to get housing or a job, etc.

so yes. this was all bad because a kid was doing sex stuff. but for everyone who i've seen saying "ohhh we all looked at smut and stuff when we were teenagers, she didn't do anything wrong", yes, she did. because she INTERACTED WITH ADULTS ABOUT IT. yes, we all know that teenagers read smut. we all know that you can click onto someone's blog. frankly, in my opinion, there's never going to be a way to stop that. but having that teenager come into adult spaces and TALK to adults, SEND them asks, POST erotic art, SEND THAT LEWD ART TO ADULTS, DO EROTIC ROLEPLAY WITH OTHER ADULTS, is beyond the pale. that's not "a teenager reading smut like we all did." that's a minor violating the trust and consent of adults who have said they don't want to interact with minors.

i want you to imagine a scenario where we have someone we Know is a liar. she says she's 17 in two months. but is she? she's lied about it before. but let's say we believe her this time. let's say we trust her when she says she's 18 now. we start letting her interact again. we talk about erotica with her again. except oops she's still not 18, she's 16 and her mommy just checked on her blog and sees she's talking about porn with adults. or she hears a headcanon she doesn't like and decides to narc on that adult for sexting with a child. or one of her friends decides they don't like how i talk to people, so they say something.

do you see the problem? sure, the kid is in danger. but so is the adult. the adult who thought they were interacting with another adult, but because that kid lied, now they're the one in trouble. oh, and fun fact, there is typically no recourse against the kid in this scenario. the adult's life is ruined, and the kid gets to walk away.

there are very few adult-only spaces left on the internet. we put up signs on our blogs that say "we talk about sex. minors do not interact." because we want these spaces for ourselves. it's so disrespectful and childish and stupid and selfish and bratty for kids to think "oh, i'm adult enough for that, actually" or "well everyone i'm following is an adult, but they all say minors don't interact, so i'll just lie and say i'm an adult, heehee." it reveals a lack of character and regard for others that disgusts me. it tells me that you don't care about my wishes, you will do whatever you want to get what you want. i did not consent to speak with a child. it's vile behavior, and people who can't comprehend why the adults here are so upset because "oh you don't owe anyone your age, we all read smut as kids, what's the big deal, it's totally fine" are clearly not using any amount of critical thinking because they learned that their favorite artist is a minor and they don't want to rock the boat and lose access to it which, by the way, maybe think about what that says about you.

[gabessquishytum]

tw stepfamily fantasy, age difference. Human AU.

I promise this is Dreamling, stay with me lol

When Time dies, Night is eager to find herself a strapping young husband. Enter Hob, who has heard that the widow Endless is filthy rich. Don't get him wrong, Night IS a beautiful woman, but it's the money he's after. He charms her easily enough, and in less than 6 months they're married and living together in her huge mansion... it's only then that Hob gets to know her kids.

He knew she had 7 of them, of course, but, well, this is a lot. The eldest two seem well-adjusted enough, sort of, but they're early 20's and out of the house already? The youngest boy ran away from home and no one bothered to look for him. Del and Despair aren't getting any mental health care they seem to badly need. And then there's Desire and Dream.

Desire is beautiful and charming and smart as a whip, but they change sexual partners more often than most people do underwear and they're only 16. They love their twin but are awful to their other siblings and downright cruel to Dream.

And Dream... he's a piece of work, yes. But he's pretty. Just as pretty as his sibling, if not more. He's got a bratty cruelty that echoes Desire's but could still be corrected by a firm hand... He mocks Hob mercilessly for his humble origins and because Hob married for money, and to Dream's heartless mother of all people! He's so closed off to affection, shouts at Hob even while bursting into tears when Hob tells him Hob could at least be a friend to him, since 34 is a bit young to be a father figure to a teen. But oh, Hob can tell: this boy is so, so lonely. Dream wishes someone would take him, even if only for money...

Desire, of course, immediately figures out that Hob isn't actually in love with Night and promply tries to seduce him. Hob gently rejects them, of course, but they try again. And again. And again. And... well. And it's hard. It's really hard to resist them. They're really really beautiful, of course, and they're so good at this... but Hob's one braincell that's still getting blood knows better than to fuck a 16-year-old with that huge a cruel streak. That's just asking for trouble. And besides, Hob likes a challenge. Desire is just... too easy.

Dream, however... what a little temptation he is. He's so reserved. He tries to focus on his art. He tries to pay Hob little mind, but can't help to listen and smile at Hob's tales. He's gotten his heart broken more times than anyone should have any right to at his age, and is just as depressed as Despair and only marginally better at hiding it... Now, that's a challenge. And such an easy target at the same time. Seducing him would be so fun! Hob can just imagine how outraged Dream would be at first... but Hob can be convincing, and Dream so badly needs someone to want him. And Hob is so horny, with Desire touching him all day, whispering filth in his ear, trying to sext him and send him nudes. You see, Night has a pretty low libido, too low if you ask Hob, and Hob's hand is a poor substitute for sex with another person.

Hob doesn't want Night to divorce him, of course, so he's wary of looking for sex outside the house, afraid to get caught if he's out too long with no explanation (he doesn't need to work now after all) and he wouldn't stoop so low as to take advantage of the house staff...

Isn't it so convenient that Dream just turned 18?

-PA

(reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated)

Oh fuck oh FUCK this is hot. AND HEY PA ANON I MISSED YOU <333

Hob feels like he's living inside a powder keg, honestly. He thought that marrying for money and living a life of luxury would be wonderful, but now he even longs for a job that would just get him out of the house. He's trapped in horny hell and he's sure that he's going to do something terrible and/or stupid. As a last ditch attempt, he sweetly suggests to Night that the two of them could take a little vacation - just the two of them, to the gorgeous little tropical vacation spot that the family owns. Death and Destiny can watch over the kids, and Night can have a well deserved break!

Alas, she just smiles and kisses Hob’s cheek. Unfortunately she's far too busy for a holiday right now. But she encourages Hob to go and soak up the sun - he's starting to look pale and stressed, and she can't have her toyboy husband looking under the weather. Her one request is that Hob should take Dream with him. She's noticed that Dream and Desire's fights have been getting more and more serious recently, and she's tired of the screaming matches. Some time apart will be beneficial for the siblings. And it will make Night's life a lot quieter.

Hob can't backtrack now, so he agrees. And he's even more glad to get away, because when Desire finds out that Dream has been sent off on holiday with Hob, they throw an absolute fit. Naked. In Hob’s bedroom. Hob’s single braincell really needs to get out of there.

It's not like Dream is even pleased to be forcibly packed off on holiday with his "step-father". He spends the whole journey in snide silence, occasionally muttering under his breath about Hob being a total creep. (And he's right, because Hob is still shamefully horny about the beautiful 18 year old. He nearly embarrasses himself completely when Dream grabs his hand because they hit turbulence.)

But it's funny how you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. Older men were always Desire's territory, but Dream is starting to see the appeal. He's starting to think that his mother is a fool for letting Hob out of her sight. When he catches his first glimpse of Hob on the beach in his swimwear, Dream makes up his mind: he's going to be a bad person.

Hob fucks him for the first time on the beach-house balcony. There are stars above them, possibly - Dream doesn't really recall. He's sure that Hob recalls even less. He's desperate, primal, unhinged. He cums, and just keeps going until both of them are exhausted. Obviously somebody needs to take care of him properly, if this is how wound up he gets.

Well. The Endless family have always been fucked up. This is just another chapter in the story. Maybe Night will even be grateful to her son, for keeping her husband happy...

[samwisethewitch]

Something I've been thinking about lately: In conversations about being intentionally child-free, I see a lot of people talk about how much they resent constantly being told that they'll change their minds someday. And yeah, that sucks. When you tell someone that they'll regret their choices or go back on them someday, you're telling them you don't trust them to make their own decisions. And that's a dick move.

But what I see left out of a lot of these conversations is the fact that some people do change their minds about kids, and that is also okay.

People change. Our priorities and our values change. Someone identifying as child-free at 20 and then realizing at 30 that they actually do want to be a parent doesn't invalidate other people's decision not to have kids. It doesn't even invalidate that person's previous decision. They're growing. They're changing, and that's okay. Healthy even.

When I was 18, I felt very strongly that I would never marry and never have children. For me, this was a reaction to growing up in a religious environment where women were second-class citizens, and what little autonomy/independence single women had immediately went away when they got married. And once you had kids? Well, once you had kids, your personal life was officially over and your identity now started and ended with being so-and-so's mother.

If your only model of marriage and parenthood is a nuclear family where the husband is in charge and makes all of the decisions while his wife does all of the housework and childcare and not much else, OF COURSE you wouldn't want to get married or have kids! My thought process at 18 was basically, "Well, I want to have my own money and make my own choices and have an identity outside of being a mom, so clearly the family life isn't for me."

I'm 25 now. I'm married. My husband and I both kept our own last names, and we maintain separate bank accounts. I have a job that I'm good at, and a lot of people know me from my work. I still have my own money, make my own choices, and have my own identity. None of that went away when I got married. All that's changed is that I have a partner and best friend that I decided to do life with, and we had a ceremony and signed a piece of paper to make it official. We're not quite at the having kids stage yet, but it is something we both want someday.

Me wanting marriage and kids now doesn't invalidate my decision at 18. When I was 18, focusing on my education and career was absolutely the right choice for me. I needed to be able to focus on myself without considering how it would affect a spouse or kids. Eventually, I realized marriage and parenthood can look a lot of different ways. I realized I can decide what they look like for me. I don't have to follow the model I grew up with. And I realized I do want raising kids to be part of my life, just in a way that looks different from what others might expect.

This is a process a lot of people go through, especially women and femmes. If you're in the middle of it right now, just know that you're allowed to change.

And of course, a lot of people don't change their minds. A lot of people who identify as child-free at 20 still don't want kids at 30, 40, or 50. I've met people in their 80s and 90s who never had kids and don't regret that decision. My point here is that some people changing their minds about something doesn't mean it's not a good option for other people.

(And, let's be real, unfortunately a lot of people go the other way: they think they want kids until they have them. That's way more complicated because now there's a whole human person involved who is dependent on them for care and this definitely deserves its own post, but the best advice I can give is if you're young, you need to give yourself time to figure out what you want before committing to anything.)

[sitkowski]

into the sea of waking dreams ( jolly karlsson x matt dierkes )

pairing: jolly karlsson x matt dierkes cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ friends to lovers, mentions of animal injuries, discussions of a breakup, mutual pining, a little bit of angst, a healthy dose of fluff, making out, hand jobs, little bit of choking. word count: 3.3k author's note: i got coerced (affectionately) into this one! bless friends who plant brain worms. title comes from sarah mclachlan's "possession", divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics ✨

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

Maybe it's crazy, but when Matt tells Jolly that he and his girlfriend split, Jolly offers to come out there. Matt tells him he doesn't have to, but he can hear it in his voice. He's lonely. So Jolly tells him he misses the dogs and he'll take up residence in Matt's guest room for the foreseeable future during the band's break. It’s not like he’s doing much else at the moment, and he senses that the break up and the touring hiatus were taking its toll on him. Jolly shoots down every plausible argument about him wasting his break hanging out there, packs up his car and puts the new address into his GPS. It’s a bit of a drive, but he makes it there just before dark.

The pictures that Matt sent them all once he moved didn’t do the house justice. It sits on a few acres of land surrounded by trees, with a huge fenced in yard and what’s probably too much house for just one person and two dogs. He gets the appeal of it though, and it does hurt a little bit to look at this place and know that the person Matt intended to live here with didn’t stick around. He has to shake the thoughts from his mind before he parks the car in Matt’s driveway.

He’s barely out of the car before he hears the front door open and the dogs come running out. Boo is bouncing around his feet, and Zeus immediately jumps up to lick him to death. It takes him a minute to realize there’s a third dog who is just as excited to meet him. A little smaller than Zeus, she’s got long reddish brown fur and she’s immediately affectionate with him, pushing Zeus out of the way to get attention.

“That’s Aggie,” Matt’s voice comes from the front porch, and Jolly looks up to see him lingering there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie as he leans against the railing. His mouth curves up in a smile at the sight of him crouched down on the ground with the dogs. “She’s new.”

Jolly wants to ask if he got her before or after the break up, but he doesn’t. Instead he meets Matt at the bottom of the stairs and pulls him into a hug. It seems to be just the thing he needs, the way that he clings to Jolly for a few minutes.

“You didn’t have to come,” Matt says finally.

“Yeah, I really did,” Jolly hooks his arm around his shoulders, leading him up the steps. “Show me around this place.”

Even though Matt insists there isn’t much to show him around for, he still gives him a tour; there are three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a spacious living room and open kitchen and dining room. There’s a basement where he keeps all of his equipment, and he’s soundproofed everything even though it’s just him and there aren’t any neighbors for a few miles. The best part is how proud he is of the place despite his protests about how it’s just a house, it’s something he’s wanted for a while. Jolly was glad he was able to have it. They go back outside, gathering up Jolly’s stuff to bring into the guest room. He sends a group text to Noah and the Nicks, letting him know he made it there safe before he demands that Matt feed him.

While they cook, because Jolly can’t not participate, Matt tells him how Aggie came to be with him. He found her wandering alone on the road on the way to the store one night. After asking the closest neighbor if they were missing a dog, he took her to the vet, just to see if she was chipped. She wasn’t, and after a week of trying to find her owners, he decided if someone was gonna abandon her she belonged with him anyway. Jolly couldn’t even be surprised, he was sure if Matt could he’d fill the place with animals.

“Well?” Matt asks later that night once Jolly’s settled in and they’re sitting out on the back porch, watching the dogs run around the lit up back yard to tire themselves out. “Aren’t you going to ask me what went wrong?”

Jolly takes a drink of his beer, looking over at him. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t come here to interrogate you about how your relationship ended, I came here because you needed someone.”

Matt smirks a little, picking at the label of his bottle. “You think you’re gonna be my shoulder to cry on? Or something else?”

There’s an innuendo there that Jolly doesn’t miss, and maybe he should be surprised that Matt’s bringing that up. It’s been years since the two of them hooked up, and he doesn’t really know how to tell him that he didn’t come here for that without making it sound like a rejection. That’s probably the last thing Matt needs right now. And yeah, he wouldn’t say no if he asked outright. He’s not going to tell him that right now either.

 “I think…that I’m gonna crash for the night. You still wanna show me those trails tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Matt nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but changes his mind. “Good night.”

Jolly decides to retreat to the guest room. 

He wakes up with Aggie curled up beside him. He wasn’t sure when she’d come in, but he thought he’d seen Matt peeking in at one point as if he’d been looking for her. She makes him miss Harper, and he grabs his phone and snaps a picture to send along in the group chat. Folio demands that he kidnap her and bring her to him immediately.

It takes a little bit for him to drag himself out of the bed and down the hall to the kitchen. He doesn’t see Matt, but he’s guessing he’s still somewhere in the house. After making himself a cup of coffee, Jolly thinks to check the basement. Of course he’s there, headphones firmly over his ears as he messes with one of his many projects. Instead of sneaking up on him and scaring the hell out of him, Jolly just taps the light on and off really quick to get his attention.

“Sorry, if you’re busy I can entertain myself for a little while?”

Matt takes off his headphones. “Nah, it’s fine. I spend too much time down here as it is. Did you wanna get breakfast before we wander off into the woods?”

It’s not so much wandering off into the woods as there are clearly worn down paths that run around the length of Matt’s place, out onto the main road, and back to a neighboring tree farm. Matt lets the dogs zip around between the trees, Boo trying his best to keep up with the bigger two. Jolly can tell that something is bothering Matt, but he doesn’t say anything. He just waits him out because he knows that’s how it works with him. The night before, when he’d asked Jolly why he didn’t ask about the breakup yet, he knew it was because he wanted him to push. Not because it would make him talk, but because then it would be an argument and he’d be distracted from it.

“I thought this is what she wanted,” Matt says at one point, and Jolly stops walking to look at him. “We’d always talked about it, you know? When I was around to be bothered with it. You know this is what I always wanted at least. Big house, lots of animals, someone else here with me. But that last tour, it was probably her final straw.”

“She knew what touring was like for you—”

“We saw each other six times on the last stretch, Joll. And do you know what I did when she said she didn’t see me enough? I offered to find her a job on the next tour.”

To some, that might seem like a good idea, but Jolly knew it wasn’t. He knew what it probably took for Matt to ask that of her, and how he probably didn’t even realize it until after he asked how it wouldn’t have worked anyway.

“She never would have asked me to give up anything, but I just expected her to drop her life and follow me around on tour? It just kinda snowballed from there, but I deserved that.”

“You deserve to be happy, Matt.” Jolly tells him.

“But I am happy…here, with the band out on the road. I thought I was happy with her but maybe we were both just faking it really well in the end.”

Jolly wants to hug him, so he does. Matt seems grateful for it, even though he won’t say. He doesn’t even argue when Jolly kisses him on the forehead before giving him a gentle shove towards the path that leads back to his house.

“So, are you gonna tell me why you really dropped everything just to come out here and hang out with me? Or are you just gonna pretend it’s all for my benefit?”

It’s not like Jolly had huge plans for their break, he was doing what everyone else was doing; resting, catching up on sleep and with friends and with family. Slowly losing his mind a little without his guitar in front of him constantly. He didn’t think they needed to make a big deal about it, but obviously Matt was waiting for an answer. “When you called me, you sounded…lonely.”

Matt stops walking, turns around and looks at him. “What about you, Jolly? Were you lonely too?”

He hadn’t really thought about it like that. Maybe he had been. When they were on the road, there was always something to do, always someone needing his time and attention for something. But maybe this is what he needs right now. Hiding out in the middle of nowhere with Matt for a while.

“Fuck, sorry, that came out all wrong. I’m glad you’re—”

The dogs race by them, giving Jolly a much needed distraction. He brushes past Matt, heading back up the trail. He can feel Matt’s eyes burning into his back, and he realizes that he probably gave him his answer without saying anything at all. 

Opie and Mack show up after Jolly’s been there two weeks. Matt says he’s going to the store, and comes back with two cats sharing a carrier. Opie was an all black Maine Coon with one eye, and Mack was a smaller short haired Tuxedo that immediately glued himself to Boo. Jolly’s already used to Aggie becoming his shadow since he arrived, but the addition of the cats seems to lighten something in Matt. Especially Opie, who had a rough life before he ended up in the shelter, only to be adopted out and come back injured and untrustworthy of people. But he seemed to adore Matt, who tended to end up at the shelter when he was really supposed to be at the store.

He keeps waiting for Matt to ask him when he’s leaving, for him to hint that he might want time to himself. But it doesn’t happen. By the time they’re pushing a month of Jolly being there it’s just…normal. He never says anything about Jolly having more of his stuff sent down, no one asks when he’s coming back. Somehow, he and Matt have fallen into this sort of routine that is endearingly domestic and he loves it.

It’s late one night when Matt knocks on Jolly’s bedroom door. He tells him to come in, still half paying attention to his book. He doesn’t even really look up, not until Matt’s crawling over top of him on the bed, pulling the book out of his hand and putting it aside. Before Jolly can ask what he’s doing, Matt’s mouth is sliding over his. It’s a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, and then Jolly's pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, until Matt's tongue finds his. His arms wrap around him, tugging so they're flush together, nipping at Matt's bottom lip until a moan finally escapes him. He slides a hand the hem of Matt's shirt, thumb sliding over the warm skin just above the waistband of his shorts. Matt makes a soft noise into his mouth, grinding down onto him.

Just as quickly as it’s started, it’s over. Matt pulls away, breathing heavily as he backs off the bed. He walks out the door without a word, and Jolly lays there, stunned, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Finally he gets up, going to track Matt down. He doesn’t get to just do that and then run away without any kind of explanation. But when he looks all over the house, there’s no one there but the animals. It hasn’t been that long, he couldn’t have gotten that far. Shoving his feet into his shoes, Jolly grabs his jacket and rushes outside.

Matt’s sitting out in the gazebo that’s in the back corner of the yard, nothing but his silhouette visible. Jolly sits down beside him, not saying anything at first. But when Matt doesn’t say anything, just sits there and stares at his hands, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

“If that was your idea of a joke, it was a really bad one.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Which part?” Jolly asks. “Sticking your tongue down my throat or up and leaving the way you did?”

“That’s not—you’re not here for this. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jolly reaches over and grabs Matt by the chin, makes him look at him. “What part of me essentially moving in with you told you that I wasn’t here for this?”

He doesn’t let Matt pull away. He just waits, lets his words sink in. The realization is there in Matt’s eyes and eventually he just shakes his head a little.

“So…you were okay with all of that?” he asks with a little uncertainty in his voice.

“All you had to do was ask me. Instead of doing a driveby.”

Matt laughs a little, “That’s not what that was at all, just so you know.”

Jolly drags him into a kiss. He keeps it gentle, no rush. It’s easy to fall into it and all he can think about is how good Matt’s mouth feels on his. Any tension that had been lingering in Matt when he sat down beside him seems to melt away beneath Jolly’s touch, but he’s trembling and his hands are cold when he reaches up to cup Jolly’s face.

“What are you doing out here without a coat, dummy?” Jolly finally asks against his mouth. “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”

He leads him into the house and back to his bedroom. Opie’s in his bed, and Matt sighs, picking him up and kissing him on top of his head before putting him down in the hallway and closing Jolly’s door. He turns around and immediately tugs off his shirt and sweats, crawling beneath the covers in just his boxers. He does it as if he does it all the time. 

“Well, are you just gonna stand there and stare at me, or are you gonna come warm me up?” he asks.

Jolly shrugs off his jacket and tosses it aside before he takes off his own shirt and sweatpants. He gets beneath the covers beside him, before reaching up and turning off the reading lamp attached to the headboard. He's barely settled on the mattress before Matt's hands are on him. He presses his mouth to Jolly's collarbone, traces his tongue up his neck, sinks his teeth into a spot beneath Jolly's ear that makes him let out a moan. There will be a mark there come moreing. He groans and arches against Matt, pressing closer before he grabs him by the hips and tugs him on top.

Matt shifts back, reaching down to palm Jolly's cock through his underwear. It's not lost on him that he has absolutely no control over this situation and he's perfectly okay with that. Reaching up, he fists a hand in Matt's hair and pulls him down, kissing him again. He lets out a desperate sound against his mouth when his hand dips beneath the waistband of his boxers and he starts stroking his cock. He's not even trying to drag this out, and Jolly gets his free hand into Matt's boxers to touch him too. It's messy and too fast. They're not even kissing anymore, just panting against each other's mouths and keeping each other as close as possible.

Jolly can feel his heartbeat thudding in his ears and he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. Matt’s hand feels so good on him, his other hand resting just so on Jolly’s throat. Not restricting his air enough to be a problem, but enough for him to feel it.

“Is this good?” Matt asks breathlessly.

Jolly wheezes out a disbelieving laugh that gets tangled up in a moan. “Are you kidding me?”

“Just checking,” Matt lets his tongue slide along Jolly’s bottom lip and smirks. “You’re gonna come first right?”

“God you’re still a bossy fuck in bed. Shut up and get me off...please.”

Matt leans down and sinks his teeth into Jolly’s shoulder, moving his fist faster. Somehow, the angle is still working for both of them, but Jolly’s the one who comes first, just like Matt thought he would. He strokes Jolly through it, and Jolly barely realizes when Matt comes all over his fist and his stomach.

“We’re still good at that,” Matt murmurs into his chest, tipping his head up to look at him. “Yeah?”

Jolly doesn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah.”

“Hey Jolly?” Matt’s voice rings through the foyer as he’s coming into the house, and Jolly pokes his head out of the kitchen where he’s been making dinner. “I need your help with something, like right now.”

When he comes out of the kitchen, he notices that Matt’s standing there funny, holding his arms around the front of his hoodie. For a brief, panicked second, he thinks he hurt himself outside. But then the front of his hoodie starts moving.

“Oh my god, what have you done now?”

“I didn’t do anything! I just found it, out by the wood pile, all alone,” Matt protests. “Stop looking at me like that. I waited to see if its mother was around, but no one else was out there.”

“What—” he opens his hoodie, and Jolly blinks. Once, then again. “Matthew! Is that…is that a goddamn racoon?”

“Yeah!” Matt sounds a little giddy and a little panicked. The kit is just a little bit bigger than Mack, clinging to the front of his t-shirt. It doesn’t seem frightened at all. “We should keep it.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course you’re not. Okay, let me just…wrangle the other kids in the room and you take it in the —”

“Marble. Her name is Marble”

“You named her? How long have you been outside with her?” 

Matt leans up and gives him a sweet kiss before humming and walking towards the kitchen while Jolly hooks a hand beneath Aggie’s collar and leads her down the hall.It shouldn’t surprise Jolly at all. Nothing should at this point. Not Matt finding a raccoon of all things outside, not the fact that they’re clearly going to keep it. Not even the idea that he and Matt are serious with each other now is surprising. Soon, they’ll have to go back to the real world; touring, recording, all of that. But for now, they have this. And it’s not surprising at all.

⇉ taglist

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[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part IX: horseshoe overlook v

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

summary: Three days after watching Arthur fall, three days of grief, three days of regret, and it all comes crashing down on you in one bittersweet moment.

a/n: here we are fellas... a much awaited chapter, technically the second half of last chapter. Star waits three days at the bank of the river... and so I've made you wait three days too. I want to say a few things so if you're sticking around to read the notes buckle up. Firstly I could absolutely not have done this chapter without Margo (linked below). She literally held my hand through writing this lol, and offered me more support, kindness, and praise than I deserve. She gave me so many tips and ideas and suggestions for this and I'm just so proud of the way it turned out, thanks to her. This was a group effort for sure. Secondly, I'm still in shock from the level of support this series has been getting. Its just incredible to see how many people come back so consistently. Last but not least, I love you guys, really I do. And I can't wait to see what you guys have to say about this chapter.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, violence

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

It's been three days, searching the banks, knowing that he won't be back, won't be coming home. You saw him hit the water, and he didn't come back up. A fall like that is barely survivable. You know he's gone and it isn't until you allow yourself to think it that you break. All that you should have told him, should have opened up about and you didn't. You didn't. And now Arthur will never know any of it.

Arthur is gone, and he left thinking that you didn’t want him. You hate yourself, for your inability to open up and you hate him for this whole job. You told him you didn’t feel right about it but no one listened. Now he's gone and you're so mad, so angry with the world and your heart and him. 

It's pouring, thundering and lightning in the dark night and you've started to accept that he isn't coming back. In your head you know it, it's all you've thought about. You know he's gone, he's never returning to you, but your anger keeps you from returning to camp because what is the gang to you without Arthur? Can you really go back there and live with his ghost?

The rain pounds down on the top of your tent, falling down and drenching the ground. Lightning lights up the night, showcasing to you the dark, empty lake. John had come by a day ago, and when you realized he was alone your heart shattered all over again. It's a strange thing, you realize, to love someone but never have the courage to admit it until it's too late. Thinking back, you know you loved Arthur, it's obvious, but you couldn't admit it at the time. It took losing him to realize how much you need him. You don't know who you are, here now, without him. You belong nowhere, you have nothing, you want nothing other than him. 

You think about going up north, up to West Elizabeth for a while, but you can't bring yourself to leave the shore just in case. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You've been sitting in this tent at night haunted by ghosts and regrets, and surveying the lake in the day, futile as it may be. You know you need to do something, to go somewhere other than this damn shore, but you're lost. Your head tells you to run, but your heart tells you to go back to those who care about you. 

Arthur cared about you. And it's sick, and it's twisted but you're so mad at him for your feelings, so mad that he cared about you so much because it made losing him that much harder. 

Lost in thought, you don't even hear the footsteps as they approach the tent, nor do you hear Balius's quiet nicker. The rain doesn't help, coming down along with thunder that shakes the ground. You don't even notice his presence until he speaks up. 

"Star?" 

Everything stops. Your eyes go wide, and immediately fill with tears at the familiar, gravelly voice that you haven't been able to get out of your head for three days. At first you're sure you're imagining it, losing your mind, until he speaks up again. 

"Star? Y'in there?" He asks again, and too shocked and confused to speak, you crawl out of the tent. Your eyes land on him as you stand in the rain and you freeze, mouth agape. He looks…  he looks fine. And you take a step back as the emotion of it all comes crashing down. At first you're shocked and confused, and then you're relieved… and then you're mad. Because you spent three days thinking he was dead, and he's standing in front of you washed up in a brand new outfit with a smile on his face. The rain soaks in your clothes, drenching you as you try to breathe. 

"Where have you been?!" You cry out, full of emotion and fear and rage. Arthur sees it all playing out on your face, and his eyebrows draw together. 

"What-" He begins but you interrupt him.

"Why are you walking up here  like everythings just fine? Where were you?!" You half cry- half hiss, thinking of all the time you'd spent scanning the water, waiting for his body to wash up. 

"Swam down the river and hid out for a couple days till the bounty hunters lost me." Arthur sighs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "What's the matter wit you?" 

Arthur isn't used to having someone to return to. No one asks or complains if Arthur comes back late from a job, he's never had anyone care so much as to worry for him like this- he's just not used to it.

You huff, a humorless, sarcastic laugh. 

"So you were just hidin' out?" You ask as a loud boom of thunder shakes the ground. 

"Yeah." Arthur huffs, irritated with your attitude. Your tone is angry, condescending and sarcastic as you continue on. Tears fill your eyes, but he can't see them in the dark.

"Well, I'm glad you've been safe all this time." You reach into your tent grabbing his hat before throwing it towards him angrily. "Here's your damn hat. Found it washed up in the river after you fell. Y'know, it would have been nice if you let me know- If you let me know you were just camping, taking a few days off while I've been here!" You yell, fighting back sobs, watching as he grips his soaked hat, growing more confused. 

"Star- what is your problem?" 

"It doesn't even matter." You toss your hands in the air, chuckling humorlessly. Your hair is soaked through, and Arthur glances to the sky as it lights up with bright white lightning. 

"Clearly it does matter! Ain't my fault you can't express your damn feelings!" He yells, growing angry alongside you. 

"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Like you can?!" You immediately bite back, voice growing louder as you step closer to him. 

"Yeah! I can, with you! I told you about my past, about my son and my parents and Mary! And I know nothing- I know nothing about you- what you want, where you've been." Arthur yells louder than the thunder, pointing his finger in your face as he does so, "You won’t open up and it's killing you. God- what are you so afraid of?! What's holdin’ you back? It's eating at you and you won't just deal with it SO WHAT IN THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLE-" 

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" You yell, stepping forward with your shoulders squared, meeting him with just as much aggression. You're so angry with him, for the train and for coming back like nothing happened. Your anger gets the better of you as you lean forward, hands pressed against his chest and you shove him backwards with all the fire you can muster, growling as you do. He stumbles backwards, eyebrows drawn together as you ball your fists, ready to scream at him, to berate him for leaving you out here. But at the thought, something in your heart cracks, and the fire and the rage pales in comparison to the fear of losing him. 

A loud boom of lightning sounds out, and Arthur prepares for your inevitable verbal knives with his eyes cast on the ground, but you never throw them. 

When he looks back up, your shoulders are rising up and down heavily, and your finger points at him like you're about to chastise him, but you don't. He watches as your shoulders slump slightly, and he sees the way your hand, pointed at him, falters. Glancing up to your eyes, he sees that you're fighting back tears, and biting down on your lip to stop it from trembling. 

Exhausted, and terrified and hurting, you can't find it within you anymore to yell. In fact your voice is barely above a whisper as you meet his green eyes, 

"I spent days thinking you were dead… Do you have any idea what that was like?"  

Arthur sees the moment that you break. He watches as your face crumples, and he sees the pain that you've been going through. God, he didn't even think. He didn't even think. You crumple, erupting into quiet sobs as you hold your face in your hands. In two strides his arms are around you, and you sink into his touch, letting all of the pain and the grief be washed away by the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Star. Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm here. It's okay." He coos, protecting you from the rain with his warmth as you sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he's really here. 

"John had to pry me away from that bridge…" You choke out, "I thought you were dead and I can't- I can't lose you, please, please don't leave me-" You whimper, feeling more vulnerable than you ever have in your life, but knowing that you trust Arthur with every fiber of your being to be the one to piece you back together. At your words, Arthur's heart shatters, falling to the ground in fragmented pieces along with your own that had fallen apart three days ago. Even with the rain, lightning and the pitch black, he cups your cheeks, pulling your teary eyed gaze up to him. 

"Look at me. You aren't alone- look at me, Star- I'm not going anywhere." 

And looking into his eyes, seeing him here, you know it's a promise he intends to keep. He's in front of you, he's safe, and having him here is too much and not enough all at once. He's scanning your eyes, searching for something to signal that you're going to be okay, and that's when it happens. With his hands resting on your face, and his eyes searching yours, you lean up on your toes, and you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have in you, ignoring the storm and the pain in your heart. You thought you'd never have the chance to do this. And with him here in front of you, you need him to know that you want him too. You've repressed so much love and so much emotion, and now that he's here in front of you, you can't help but feel it all. 

He's shocked at first, eyes open and lips slack until he catches up and leans back into you with just as much emotion. His eyes slip shut, and you curl your hands into his shirt, opening your mouth for him to gain entrance. Your tears slip down your cheeks, mixing in with your lips. It's hungry and raw and filled with the emotion of you terrified of losing him, and needing him in every way possible now that he's here.

You pull away to catch your breath, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look up to him, making sure once again he's still here. He smiles down at you, wiping your cheek with his thumb, smearing the rain and the tears away. And then you're pulling him back down to you, kissing him again with the same hunger, and he kisses you back. His hands grip onto your waist and he pulls you against him as your lips slot against each other. It's him who breaks the kiss this time, and he looks down to your eyes, his green irises searching yours and seeing the intention in your gaze.

"You sure you want this?" He asks you, rain soaking his hair and causing a piece to hang down in front of his face. 

"Stop talking." You whisper, barely a breath as you run your fingers through his hair before leaning up to kiss him again. Your hands grip onto him, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue mixes with yours. You need more, you need him. You need to know he's with you. 

Arthur seems to read your mind, hands grabbing the underside of your thighs as he pulls you up against him, carrying you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you only break the kiss momentarily as he carries you into the tent. He lays you down on the soft blankets, taking a moment to admire you laid before him in the lantern light. Then he lines your body, leaning over you on his forearms as the storm rages on outside. His lips are on you again, in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where your pulse beats erratically. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and as he kisses you, his left hand unbuttons your shirt. 

"You done this before?" Arthur asks, pressing messy kisses to your jawline. He remembers your conversation up in the Grizzlies, and he's almost certain this is new for you. You shake your head. 

"No." You admit. You're no saint, but you've never trusted anyone enough to go this far, not before Arthur at least. 

He exhales, nodding, but he seems hesitant, his hands slowing on your buttons. You grip either side of face, pulling his attention to you.

"I want it to be you. I need it to be you." You admit, whining as he groans, nodding. He leans back, sitting up in between your legs to shed his clothes. You help, pulling his shirt off of him quickly once the buttons are undone. He's left in just his jeans then, but you stop him from taking them off. You pull him down back over top of you, and he obliges, though a bit confused. 

"Kiss me." You plead, and he does. He kisses your lips over and over again, he kisses your neck and your jaw and your forehead while you get used to everything. He wants to do right by you, he wants to do this your way. 

You reach your hand down between your bodies as Arthur pops the last button to your shirt. You line your hand along the bulge in his jeans, and you press against it, eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. You smirk, popping the button of his jeans before slipping your hand inside. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling how much he wants you. 

It's overwhelming, all the feelings he gives you. In every way. He's perfect. Warm and loving, and his tan skin is kissed with freckles all over and he's so beautiful it makes your heart ache.

"I'm ready, but I don't know- How do we do this?" You whisper against Arthur's ear. You're letting him take control, and he nods, kissing your lips softly. 

"Let me take care of you, let me be strong for you." He whispers, pulling your shirt over your shoulders and kissing your collarbone until there is a mark.  Then he leans down, pulling your dark jeans down over your legs by the waistband, leaving you fully exposed. Once your denims hit the discarded pile of clothes, Arthur leans back, smiling down at you. You can't find it within you to be self conscious, not with the way he's looking at you. You lean up on your elbows, watching him drink you in as he leans up to grip onto your hand. 

"You're so beautiful…" He mumbles, eyes trailing up your figure lovingly. He squeezes your hand, and leans down to your right thigh where a messy scar lies, the gunshot wound from Blackwater. He kisses the scarred skin. 

"N' so strong." He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.  Leaning up to meet him, you crash your lips against his own, trying to shove his jeans down off his form. He chuckles, leaning back to shed the denim. Now both fully undressed, he stops, looking over you again. Your wet hair is sprawled out on the blankets, lips plump from where he's kissed them. He's sure you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"Arthur-" You whimper, pulling him back down to you by his hand. He takes his time warming you up. There's no rush, and you're so glad to just be together. 

He places kisses down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, and you chuckle, fingers intertwining into his hair as you pull him back up to your lips. 

"Arthur?" You breathe out. 

"Hmm?" 

"Touch me." You plead, spreading your legs for Arthur. He smiles, running a finger down your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck. You gasp, feeling his fingers brush against your core. He stops, groaning when he feels how wet you are, the sound cathartic. Then once you wrap your legs around his waist, he resumes his pace. His thumb gently rubs around the small bundle of nerves at your core, and you gasp, gripping onto his shoulders as he continues to kiss your neck. Then as his thumb continues, his middle finger stretches into your tight heat, and your nails dig even deeper into his shoulders. 

"Please, just-" You beg, but he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

"Sweetheart, I gotta take my time. I don't wanna hurt you." He says, and you nod, trusting him. He works his finger in you for a while, curling it up and coaxing little gasps from you. Then, he stretches a second finger into you, and you wince from the pull, but after a while of him working you, it starts to feel good. And shortly you're breathing quickly, ready. 

"Perfect." Arthur whispers, sliding his fingers out of you while he presses a kiss to your forehead. His arms flex on either side of your head as he holds himself up, and your legs wrap around his waist as he lines himself up. 

"You ready?" 

"Yes, yes-" You mumble. 

You feel the tip of his length against your entrance, and you spread your legs even further for him. And then he's sliding in, slowly. You gasp loudly, gripping onto him tightly as he thrusts in, slow as to not hurt you. 

"S'it hurt? You okay?" Arthur asks, stilling as you toss your head back and pant. 

"No- yes-?" You whimper, acclimating to the feeling. You nod, signaling him to continue as the thunder rumbles outside, not nearly as loud as your gasping breaths.

"Oh, Arthur-" You moan as he slides into the hilt, and bumps into your sweet spot. He slides back out partially, and then picks up a slow, steady rhythm. Your body arches beneath him, and you moan, pulling his face down to yours in search of his lips, tears coming in rivulets. He kisses you again, giving you butterflies as he thrusts in and out of you. You grant him access to your mouth then, and when he pulls away to breathe, still thrusting steadily, you whimper, tears running down your cheeks. 

"Star?" Arthur asks, worried. And he stills his movements. 

"No- don't stop." You beg, pulling his head down into your chest as he resumes his movements. 

"I'm so glad you're okay Arthur." You cry, shaking against him as you hold his head against you. 

His lips are on yours then, reminding you that he is here with you, safe, loving you. 

"I'm right here, darlin'." He reassures, and you nod against him, biting your lip. You can't help the moans that you start to let out, timed with every one of Arthur's thrusts. He runs his thumb over your hard nipple, teasing it and giving you goosebumps. You don't have to worry about the noise, as there is no one to hear you but the raging storm outside. The power of the black clouds, bright lightning and pounding of rain pale in comparison to the crashing together of you and Arthur. Your moans seem to encourage Arthur, and he begins to thrust even harder into you, kissing you in between his movements. You can't keep your hands off of him, running them from his face, pulling his lips to yours or digging them into his shoulders as you gasp and moan. 

He feels the same way, gripping your hips, kissing your breasts, and your lips and your neck it's almost too much. You feel yourself approaching an orgasm quickly, but you fight it, clamping down on yourself in an attempt to slow the process. You don't want this moment to end, you could stay here forever with him, and never have to worry about anything else. But your abdomen clenches and you feel your nerves begin to tingle. Arthur isn't oblivious to this, and he runs his thumb over your sensitive bud, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Star, let go." He whispers, lightly biting your earlobe. You shake your head, gripping his shoulders as tight as you can manage. .

"No." You argue, squinting your eyes shut and shaking your head, thighs clamping around him as you try to stop the inevitable. 

"Darlin, let go. I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere." He whispers again, and you release, automatically setting off the intense waves of pleasure that crash down over you. You set Arthur over the edge, constricting around him and your moans fill the tent as you arch your back, pulling his lips down to yours. You moan into his mouth, hips rocking against his own as you climax, feeling so close to him and so intimate and vulnerable. You never knew it could be such a beautiful thing. 

He begins to groan loudly in your ear, and you pull him down to you as you continue to rock and moan against him. Your grip on him tightens, and you're not sure whether or not he's planning on pulling out, but you don't want him to. You need him with you. Your legs wrap even tighter around him and he gets the message. A few stuttering breaths later and Arthur groans, grinding his hips against you as he finishes in you, lips pressing kisses to your own between heavy groans and breaths. 

His forehead falls against yours, resting there as he catches his breath. You do too, still clinging to him in every way possible. After a few moments, he presses a slow kiss to your forehead, and then slides out of you. You wince from the pull, but once he lies down on the blankets beside you, he pulls you into the crook of his arm and covers you with the blanket. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by his heart beat after the past three days. 

"You okay?" Arthur asks, running his hand up and down your back over the blanket. You nod, truthfully. 

"I think I'm better than I've been in a long time." You admit. Arthur leans up on his elbow, grabbing your canteen from his side of the tent. 

"Here." He offers you the water, and you take it willingly, sipping down some of the cool liquid before handing it back to him.

You cuddle down against his chest again, hand sprawled out on his stomach as he looks up at the ceiling, thinking. 

"We gotta talk about this. Please, don't close up again, not now." Arthur says, worried that come morning you'll close yourself off again. You nod. Truly, you have no intention of hiding anymore, not after tonight. But for now you don't want to talk, you just want to be with him.

"In the morning?" You ask, tucking yourself into his side, yawning. 

"Yeah, in the morning." He whispers, and you lean up, pressing one last, slow kiss to his lips. He chuckles as you toss your leg over his, formed tightly against him. 

"Arthur?" You ask, not meeting his eyes. 

"Hmm?" He asks, hand still running up and down your back while the other holds yours tightly. 

"I'm so glad you're okay." You say again, a tear falling down your cheek and getting lost against his chest hair. You draw stars on his bare skin, distracting yourself as he wraps the blanket tighter around you both, protecting you from the thunder outside. 

"I know, sweetheart. S'alright now, you just get some sleep."

Everything seems to make sense now, like it's finally fallen into place. You grip onto his hand, holding it as you start to drift off to sleep. You're his grief, his joy, everything he desires and loves. And you feel the same about him. You've denied yourself this for so long, that finally having it happened in one big collision. You wouldn't change it, lying here with him now. You know you have to talk about this, and you have to get Arthur back to camp, but it's all a problem for tomorrow. Right now it is about the two of you, just existing together for the first time.  

— — — — 

When you begin to wake up, it takes you a few moments to come to your surroundings. Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes squinting to block out the harsh sunlight that is filtering through the tent flap. There is a strong, steady warmth underneath you, and realizing your surroundings, you smile. Your head is laying on Arthur’s chest, legs still intertwined and hands still locked together under the blankets from the night before. Arthur's other hand runs soothingly up and down your bare back, and you prop your chin on his chest to look at him.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, voice deep and groggy. 

"Real good." You hum, telling the truth. You've slept in the same bed as Arthur on a handful of occasions, but you've never been able to do so as openly as now. You've never woken up so content before, even with the residual ache in your hips. It's a good ache, a reminder of where Arthur had touched you, binded his body to yours in the most intimate of ways.

"I'm sorry that I just… jumped you last night." You whisper with a chuckle, fingers running down Arthur's chest, tracing through the sandy blonde hair there. 

"Do you regret it?" Arthur asks, looking down at you sprawled over his chest. Immediately, you shake your head.

"No. Not at all." You say truthfully. Even though the circumstances around your crashing together were less than ideal, you don't regret it even for a moment.

"Good." Arthur hums, smiling down at you. 

It grows quiet for a while, comfortably so. You listen to the birds and the river, but mostly Arthur's steady breathing, and you realize that you could lie here with him forever. You thought you'd lost him, and now that he's here, you can't bring yourself to let go for fear that he will disappear again. At the thought, you realize that you've not discussed what happens now, and a question forms on your lips. Your hand is still intertwined with Arthur's, and you play with his fingers as you speak up. 

"I reckon I already know the answer to this… but this was more than just sex right?" You ask, a little nervous. You're almost certain this is an emotional commitment, but your anxiety still prods at you. Arthur cracks a smile, bringing your wrist up to his lips before tenderly kissing the point where your pulse beats.

"Yes," He laces his fingers back with your own, "I'm all yours darlin', if you'll have me."

"Always." You whisper, ear pressed against his chest. The rhythmic pounding of his heart is a sound you can't get enough of as you slip your eyes closed, still reassuring yourself that he's here. 

"We gotta head back soon," You sigh, "I know John is worried sick. I'm sure everyone else is too." You whisper, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest for keeping John in the dark while you'd kept Arthur to yourself all night. 

"Just a few more minutes." Arthur counters, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thumb glides over your lower back, and you look up to see him lost in his head again. 

"Why did you stay out here? Why didn't you go back to camp with the others?" Arthur asks, propping his hand under his head to look at you. 

"How could I have left you? I didn't know if you were alive, I didn't think you were, god- that fall… but the thought of you hurt somewhere, or needing help, I couldn't just leave." You whisper, emotion bubbling up again at the thought of his fall. You don't bother to hide it anymore, even though your nature wants you to. 

"I can't stop seeing it, Arthur. I've never been that scared in my life." You admit. 

"It was a hell of a fall, I'll tell you that. Hurt like hell hittin' the water too. I didn't even know if I was alive, the water turned me around real bad and then I was on the shore of the Upper Montana River." He explains, eyes lost in the memory, "Hid out for a while and I heard the law whistles so I stole a horse n' ran to Strawberry. I was so worried about you… I didn't see you get away." 

"Cause I didn't." You whisper, "John had to pull me away from the bridge. Athena carried me here and I sat in the grass the rest of the night just… waiting for you," You take a deep breath, a loose tear slipping down your cheek, "and then your hat washed up, and I was sure you weren't coming back."

You can't shake it. Every time you bring up the bridge it all comes rushing back. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't come back to you." Arthur hums, feeling terribly guilty as he sits up in the tent. You sit up next to him, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to cover your breasts. 

"Well, you're here now." You whisper, teary eyes looking into his. He shakes his head, and you see the regret in his eyes. 

"I shouldn't have called you a hypocrite. That was unfair of me." Arthur says, and your hand reaches up to his cheek, running through the thick stubble there. 

"No, you were right. That's somethin' I've thought about a lot the past few days, somethin' I plan on workin' on." You say, "And, Arthur, I shouldn't have gone through your journal."

Arthur huffs, humorously. 

"S'all you anyway." Arthur admits, and your eyebrows pull together, not understanding. 

"My journal. It's all you." He reiterates and you smirk. 

And then he's pulling you into his lap, unable to keep his hands off you now that he's able to touch you like this. 

"We have to go." You chuckle as Arthur runs his thumb over the purple splotches on your collarbone. His lips are on your jawline in a heartbeat, pressing slow, languid kisses to it. 

"They can wait." He whispers against your skin, thumbs gripping onto your bare hips as the blanket slips down from your shoulders. You lean into his kisses, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, something you've denied yourself for so long. 

Your stomach grumbles lightly, and Arthur slowly leans back, raising an eyebrow at you. 

"You eaten anything?" He asks, and you sigh. 

"No." You admit, sighing as he slides you down off of his lap. 

"C'mon, let me make you breakfast." 

"Didn't think you were the type; cookin' a girl breakfast the morning after." You chuckle as Arthur starts plucking your wet clothes up off the floor, tossing them in a useless heap. 

"Yeah, well… only for you." Arthur huffs, grabbing your saddlebag from his side of the tent.

"You got any other clothes? These are drenched from the rain." Arthur asks, nodding to your outfit from last night. You nod, searching through the bag until you find a decent outfit. You grab a pair of black jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and you pair it with a tight black vest and a choker-style neckerchief, it's a damn cute outfit. 

“Alright, go on and get breakfast ready, I’m starvin.” You joke, pulling your shirt over your arms and buttoning it from the bottom up. Arthur laughs, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he groans, getting himself dressed for the day. 

He makes a little fire out front, and you smile, sitting at the entrance of the open tent as he prods and pokes at the smoldering logs with a stick. He puts on a little pot of coffee, and pulls a few cans from his satchel. 

“It ain’t much, but it’s what we got.” Arthur says, stabbing his knife into the top of one of the cans and cutting away the seal. He hands it out to you then, and you smile at the label. Strawberries, another delicious treat that Arthur had stashed away in his bag.

“It’s perfect.” You hum, slipping your fingers into the can and pulling out one of the berries. Today proves to be the calm after the storm, and despite the rain that soaks into the ground, covering the grass in a mist, the day is beautiful. The sun shines brightly down onto you and Arthur, sipping your coffees and making quiet, comfortable conversation. One by one, eating the berries, you begin to feel replenished. Not having eaten for the past three days, too devastated to even move, you devour your whole can of strawberries, and then you pick at Arthur’s. It breaks his heart a little, seeing how you’ve deprived yourself of basic needs in his absence, but he says nothing. You squint your eyes shut, relishing in the warm bitterness of your coffee until you’ve drunk it all down. 

“Thank you.” You say, placing the empty cup on the ground next to the empty cans, “For everything.”

“Course.” Arthur smiles, standing from the ground with a groan. He picks up the trash, and you raise an eyebrow at him as he tosses it into the woods. In just a matter of one night he’s managed to piece you back together, both physically and emotionally. It’s a debt you’ll owe him forever, though you know he’ll ask for nothing in return. 

“Star?” Arthur asks, looking at the tent as you stand from it, packing up, “This John’s tent?” He asks, looking over the familiar dark camping kit, one that he’s pitched his own next to on many occasions while out working.

Your eyes go wide and you snort, remembering that John had left you his camping kit back when you’d told him you planned on staying by the river. 

“Oh my god-” You say, horrified, “We’ll have to get him a new one.” 

Arthur chuckles, amused as he brings the tent down and starts packing it up with the blankets. 

“Nah, he won’t know.” Arthur brushes it off, snickering to himself. 

“Arthur-” You chastise, jaw open slightly as he rolls everything up and ties it onto the back of Balius. Arthur says nothing, a smirk on his lips as he walks to the front of his scarred shire, petting his head. 

“Missed ya, boy. I hope you took real good care of the lady while I was gone, I know you did.” Arthur whispers to his stallion, patting his neck a few times while pulling some mints from his saddle bag. He gives Balius one, and then looks back to you, blushing at the smile on your lips from his whispering. 

“Ready?” He asks, gripping the horn of his saddle. 

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh, kicking dirt into the fire before mounting onto Athena, patting her in thanks for getting you across the river all those days ago.

You wonder what happens now. When you return to camp will Arthur showcase your newfound relationship?- If that's what you’re calling it, that is. You don’t know if things will slip back into their usual routine, or if this will change everything. You’re not ready for the gawking, hushed whispers of the girls, or the disapproving glare of Dutch. Though it's nonsensical, you feel that everyone will know what happened out here, and you feel terribly selfish for spending the night with Arthur when his own family didn’t even know he was alive. Still, you don’t regret it. 

Trotting across the river back towards Horseshoe Overlook, back towards home, you glance up ahead. Arthur is in front of you leading the way, and you release a breath, letting all of the worry and the guilt fall from your shoulders and be lost in the river. Because no matter what faces you back at camp, he's with you now, by your side with no intentions of leaving. You'll face it together.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie

[booburt]

Hi, I've been wondering for the photography AU what general time period it's set in, what type of camera(s) does Koby use (it looks like a canon to me but seems to make polaroids, at least that's the surface level observation I can make from my extremely limited knowledge on cameras), what type of photography he personally enjoys and the type he usually does for work (if he does it as his profession too). What does Koby aim to capture with his images, the casual mundane life of an average person, an unreal, etheral sight in a place the average person can't go, Luffy's luffiness, etc? Also what's the general budget Koby has towards camera equipment (doesn't need to be that exact, just a general "he's broke" or "He spends all his money on lenses" would suffice)? My questions are kinda vague here because I'm going to research more about photography later. Thanks in advance :D Oh yeah and also does Koby travel, if not what's the general landscape of his nearby area. You don't need to answer this since I'll probably make it up but it'd be good to know.

okok i wrote this all in the few free periods i got earlier take what you will ^_^

also a doodle i did ages aaaaago with a bit of slightly illegible info in my awful handwriting (sorry)

actual answer vvv

- its a modern au!! so set like. now!

- koby uses sony cameras primarily but yes he does have a few canons (nikon confuses him)

- he has a seperate polaroid camera!!! he usually prints digitally from sd though

- for type of photography, he started with a passion for ocean and landscape photography, mostly beaches and any scene with water in focus. he also has an interest in portraiture but his love for portraiture only comes to play when he meets luffy. cheese cheese cheeeesyyyy because luffy smiles and hes IMMEDIATELY enamoured. anyway, he starts to study and practice portraiture in depth because of the pretty boy he met in maths class and eventually works up the courage to ask him to model for him. they get super close and eventually start dating; luffy likes how dedicated koby is to his work and how cute he is when he blushes.

-SORDY got carried away with the sappy lovey stuff. koby sells his landscape/wildlife photography at local stores as a side hustle thing haha. but he doesnt really do it professionally, he much prefers to keep it as a hobby / simple income.

- koby aims to capture the beauty of colour! he loves vibrancy when shooting with a softbox or some other source of light he will usually use something to change the hue rather than plain old bw on a simple white bg

- following on he HATES shooting black and white photos unless theyre negatives because idk i think he would think it looks cool. what a guy

- with luffy photography he just likes catching luffys smile or just luffy in general; whipped dud!!! he thinks he is gorgeous

- ahahhhh budget budgettt. lenses are fucking EXPENSIVE!!! he uses a 50mm that helmeppo got him for his birthday one year (rich kid stuff. he knew koby likes photography and searched Best Lense For People Pictures and bought the first one he saw) the 50 is canon as consequence so koby uses canon for loofy pics. he has an 18-55mm he uses as well.

- he is broke yes. koby does have a minimum wage weekend job to pay for living expenses but all in all that boys pockets are empty. luffy is the breadwinner (miss rabbit with the one zillion jobs) he works about 4 different jobs and is happy to pay for anything koby wants despite kobys adamant NOs. like i said he gets helmeppo to pay for a bunch of stuff and helmeppo pays on his dads card LOL.

- koby does travel! mainly by train or boat, not often does he go to an entirely different country but he has previously a few times. when he does go abroad he takes luffy with him!!!! (he looks pretty in the snow. he likes taking pictures of him in snow)

IM SO GLAD SOMEONE LIKES MY AU ENOUGH TO ASK ME THIS MANY QUESTIONS LMAO i had fun answering all of this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bonesandthebees]

If u wanna talk more about the tntduo detective au I am ALL ears 👀👀👀 but also totally understand if u wanna keep it a secret for now hehehe

honestly I have no idea where I'm going with it so I'll throw it to the wind and let you guys chew on it while I let it simmer lol

so basically I started watching true detective: night country the other night with my mom and I immediately got inspired (I have not seen the first season of true detective although I really want to watch it now and hopefully will soon). also, I've always had a fascination with the polar nights phenomena. I've gone on wikipedia binges before reading about Utquiagvik (the Alaskan town I'm fairly sure the town in true detective s4 is based off of) which experiences polar night for roughly two months or so, and I've also gotten a few videos in my Youtube recommended from a youtuber who lives in Svalbard which experiences polar night for nearly three months. so suffice to say the concept of a several month long night has intrigued me for a while, and finding a show literally set during that multi-month nighttime immediately piqued my interest.

and when I watch really fun things I usually get the urge to write something in the same genre. originally I thought about a crimeboys detective duo fic, but then I was like wait has anyone done tntduo as detective partners? because I know there's crimeboys detective fics out there but I don't know if I've seen many of them for tntduo. and I realized that would just be a very fun dynamic for the two of them.

so grizzled small town detective partners tntduo who bicker like an old married couple, seem to have a lot of shit in their past between them, work incredibly well together and bounce off of each other perfectly during investigations, and also have the kind of tension where no one else in the room with them can tell if they want to punch each other or make out just felt like the perfect vibe to dig into. all set against the backdrop of a frigid arctic circle town that's in the midst of a 2 month long night. and then someone gets murdered.

so this post doesn't get too long I'll talk more about the specifics of the au under the cut

so tbh this idea while it is tntduo /r, it wouldn't be that focused on that and more focused on the murder investigation going on. besides our two overly tired small town detectives that definitely aren't repressing any feelings towards each other, we have several other characters going about their lives as well! of course tommy is there. he's a junior officer who only joined the police force a year before the start of the story (also, yes I'm very acab when it comes to real life but I just wanna write one of those stereotypical murder investigation stories man).

anyway, tommy is only 20 and his dad, phil, was part of the force for most of tommy's life. once he turned 18 though phil quit because he'd always hated the institution of police (and government in general) (although like wilbur he was a detective) but wanted to have a stable job to keep his kid supported. phil was... not thrilled in tommy's career choice, but who is he to protest?

phil mentored wilbur during his early years in the force, and in turn wilbur mentors tommy. he's trying to teach him how to think like an investigator, and will often ask him questions to get his brain turning pieces of evidence over and try to get him to look at situations in different ways.

since quitting and getting that sweet sweet government retirement money, phil pretty much spends all his time at his bestie techno's place. techno is the town hermit who lives on the outskirts. he also breeds sled dogs (not formally he just has a lot of dogs since people need them in that kind of weather) and usually has 10 huskies at a time running around his cabin. techno might also be a retired eco-terrorist but wilbur knows not to ask too many questions about that and quackity is scared of techno so he's definitely not gonna bring it up.

niki is a phd student from germany working at the nearby arctic research station for her dissertation. she focuses a lot of her studies on climate change and all that. she and wilbur are best friends and has heard way too many drunken ramblings about quackity.

jack manifold is one of tommy's best friends and works at the oil fields that employ most of the town. he's trying to get placed onto a proper oil rig out in the ocean at some point since those jobs pay really well. he's friends with niki too, although his job and her research certainly cause a bit of contention between them.

tubbo is another best friend of tommy's. he's born and raised in the arctic town but he went off to a prestigious uni down south to get a nuclear engineering degree so he's not really around for the most part

sam oversees and manages all the oil pumps and makes sure things are running smoothly. and in turn, schlatt owns the oil fields. he and quackity have, uh, a history.

and lastly, ranboo is an intern at the research station that niki is doing her dissertation work at. they're also close friends with tommy, although wilbur and quackity both have only met them a few times. the whole story kicks off when they go missing one day, only to be found dead outside in the frigid temperatures within a few hours. that's when the mystery kicks off against the backdrop of a nearly three month long night :)

anyway I do have the overarching mystery figured out, but it's the actual specific plotting bit i'm struggling with. I really don't want to write the entire investigation but also I don't wanna just write a single scene bc theres so much going on in this universe I wanna show arghhhh. and also I love slowburn and I think the really weird tense dynamic tntduo have in this would be so intriguing with that layered on top of it. just arghhhh motivation and time.

hope you enjoyed learning about my brainrot over the past few days lol I already made a playlist for this fic even though I don't think I'm gonna write it it's so joever for me

[kpop-stories-21]

Lobby - Introduction

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: ATEEZ x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Themes & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Sci-fi, Horror, History, Mystery/Crime, Fantasy, Adventure, Supernatural themes and creatures, aliens, vampires, gladiators, detectives, criminals, Dark & Light fae, princes, princesses, treasure hunters, monsters, demons

Content & Trigger Warnings: Strong language, Explicit sexual content(Minors DNI), themes of science fiction, horror, history, mystery, fantasy, adventure and the supernatural

Summary: After losing your job, you fear you won't be able to continue supporting your mother. Then you hear about the Library of Illusion and the fabled treasure housed within. Perhaps this is your lucky break.

Tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @skeletor-ify @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @liliesofdreamsskz @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre @thelargefrye @yoonguurt

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Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet

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Event Masterlist || Main Masterlist

The ringing of your phone ripped you from your sleep, the shreds of a nightmare still clinging to your sweaty skin. You couldn't recall what the nightmare had been about, but an overwhelming feeling of terror lingered even now. Shaking your head to clear the cobwebs from your brain, you reached for your phone and answered the incoming call.

"Hello?"

"Y/N, where the hell are you?! You're 45 minutes late for your shift and Mr. Lee is losing his shit. You need to get over here as fast as you can!"

Looking at the time on your phone had your eyes in disbelief. How in the world had you slept this long? "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'll be right over."

Cursing under your breath, you leap from bed and yank your uniform out of the closet. As you slapped on some makeup and dragged a brush through your hair, you prayed that your boss would be understanding and give you another chance. Throwing your phone in your bag and grabbing your keys, you raced out the door.

On the way to the restaurant you forced yourself to drive the speed limit, even though you wanted to go faster. Getting pulled over would just make you even later and that was the last thing you wanted.

Upon arriving you snatched up your things and ran across the parking lot to the back door. Flinging it open, you stepped in and were immediately greeted with Mr. Lee's bright red face. Freezing in place, you watched as a fat finger came up to wave in front of your face.

"I've had just about all I'm gonna take, young lady! I gave you this job because I'm a family friend and I felt bad for the position you've been put in. But compassion can only go so far, and I've given you too many second chances.

"At the end of the day, I have a business to run and it's not fair to me, the customers, or the other wait staff if someone has to cover your ass every time you oversleep. I really hate to do this, but today will be your last day working here."

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling as you watched him walk away. Deep down you knew he was right, and you felt incredibly guilty for disappointing someone who had been like a father to you. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to remain calm. The tears could come later, once you were alone. Right now you had a job to do, and you owed it to Mr. Lee to make your last day count.

As soon as you finished your shift, you headed to Mr. Lee's office to collect your final payment and turn in your name tag. The envelope he handed you was thicker than you'd expected, and you looked at him in confusion.

He smiled sympathetically. "Just because I fired you doesn't mean I stopped caring. I know things are hard right now, so I gave you a little extra to help hold you over until you find a new job."

You blinked, suddenly swallowing around a lump of tears. "T-Thank you Mr. Lee. I'm sorry things had to turn out this way."

Mr. Lee stood and hugged you tightly. "Me too. I'll still be checking in on you, so keep your chin up kiddo. Things will turn around one day."

Nodding, you thanked him once more and left the restaurant.

Back in your car now, you made the drive you've been making every evening for the last year and a half. After parking outside the hospital, you walked in and took the elevator to the cancer wing. You greeted the nurse at the nurse's station with a smile, after your many visits she had become something of a friend to you.

"She's in her room, having her dinner. She's expecting you."

You smiled at the nurse and walked down the left hallway. You'd memorised the room number by now. Pushing the door open, you smiled at the slight woman sitting upright in the bed eating her dinner from a tray.

“Hi Mom.” You said with a soft smile as you closed the door behind you.

Your mom looked up as you entered, her entire face lighting up at the sight of you.

"Y/N, my little dove, I was hoping you'd turn up soon! Have you eaten yet?"

You shook your head as you sat down in the chair situated next to her bed. "I came here straight after work, like always. I'll eat when I get back home." Reaching out to take her thin hand in your own, you changed the subject. "So, how was your day today?"

A grim look crossed your mom's pale features. "Dr. Kwang visited me this morning. He said the current course of treatment has stopped working, so they're going to have to start doing chemotherapy."

You felt your heart sink into your stomach. The chemo was going to be so much more expensive, and with you now out of a job there was no way you could pay for her to continue getting treated. Then you remembered the envelope in your purse with your wages plus the extra from Mr. Lee. You could keep a little out for yourself and give the rest to pay as much of the chemo as you could.

You spent some more time with your mom, then left to go find Dr. Kwang. He was in his office, probably expecting a visit from you due to the change in treatment.

“Ah, Y/N. I trust your mother told you about the chemo?”

You nodded and he continued.

“As we discussed previously, the chemo will cost more. Are you still able to support your mother's treatment?"

Taking the envelope from your purse, you flipped through the bills within, doing some quick maths in your head. Keeping back enough for you to get by for a little bit, you handed over the rest.

"This should be a good starting place until I can get ahold of some more."

Dr. Kwang smiled at you as he took the money. "I admire your drive, young lady. Most young people these days would just throw their parents in a home and never look back."

You blushed a little, unused to such praise. "She sacrificed so much to raise me all on her own, it's the least I can do."

"She must be so proud to have you as her daughter."

You blushed a little deeper, then put the envelope back in your purse and stood. "I'm proud to have her as my mother. Thank you for taking care of her when I could not. Good evening Dr. Kwang." You nodded to him once more and exited his office.

As you walked back to your car you ended up behind two young women not much older than you and happened to hear a part of their conversation.

"Have you heard that rumour about the Library of Illusion and the treasure that supposedly resides within?"

"I have actually. Isn't it supposed to be in the woods around the town?"

"Yeah it is! Maeri said she wanted to see what it was all about, so we're going up there this weekend to check it out."

Intrigued and wanting to find out more on your own, you stepped around the women and hurried to your car. On the drive home all you could think about was the "treasure" and how much it would help your mom with her treatment if you could get ahold of it.

Once you had returned home, changed into comfortable clothes, and eaten some food you booted up your laptop and Googled "Library of Illusion". The first result that popped up was a Wikipedia page containing the location, along with the sparse information known by the general public. Plugging the location into the GPS on your phone revealed that the Library was a good ways away from where your apartment was.

The town you lived in was in a bowl-like valley surrounded by mountains except for the cutout where the road was. The Library was nestled on a perfectly-sized plateau halfway up the tallest mountain in the eastern range, which put it out of reach for all but the most determined.

You hadn't been mountain climbing since your mom was first diagnosed with cancer, so you were rusty at best. But you'd do almost anything at this point to ensure your mom had the best possible chance of surviving. So you researched what gear you would need for such an arduous climb, then used the money from Mr. Lee plus some of what you had in savings to purchase everything.

It took several days for everything to arrive, but once the last package was delivered you began to pack things up and plan when you would begin your journey. You decided that the sooner you left, the sooner you'd be able to return. So you made plans to leave the following day as early as you could manage.

Your mind firmly made up, you went to bed earlier than usual. Tomorrow you would get that treasure and then you would be able to fully support your mom.

You woke the next day to the ear-splitting crash of thunder as rain pounded on the roof like it was trying to get inside.

"What a lovely day for mountain climbing." You muttered to yourself as you slipped from under the warm blankets to begin getting ready.

You dressed warmly to combat the cold rain and had a quick breakfast before grabbing your phone, gear and keys and heading out.

Twenty minutes later you arrived at the base of the mountain you would be climbing. Parking under a handy overhang of trees laden with thick ivy, you got out and began to gear up. By the time you were ready to start climbing, the rain had subsided and the sun was making its way out from behind the clouds. A smile rose to your face as you placed your hands upon the mountain and began to climb.

The next three days were a constant cycle of climb until dark, find a flat enough place to set up your tent, sleep until morning, then eat and begin the routine again. By the afternoon of day three you were starting to lose hope, thinking maybe this was all a dream and there was no library way up in the mountains.

Then you came to a flat place that seemed the biggest one you'd encountered yet, and your heart soared. Pulling your weary body up onto solid ground, you found yourself in front of a huge building that looked centuries older than it probably was. After a short rest and some food, you walked closer as a storm brewed overhead.

Ivy covered the majority of the brick walls, the gold on the door handles dim and tarnished. Taking a deep breath, you pushed them open and stepped inside.

The interior was far more well kept than outside, and if you didn't know better you'd have a hard time believing this was the same building.

The first thing that caught your eye was the front desk, or more accurately, the handsome man seated behind it. Feeling suddenly shy, you slowly approached him.

He was much more good-looking up close, bordering more towards beautiful than handsome. His hair was cotton candy pink, and slicked back stylishly. Chocolate brown eyes glanced up suddenly, amused at having caught you staring.

"May I help you?" His voice, almost as deep as the thunder roaring outside, jerked you back to the present moment.

"M-My name is Y/N, I heard about the treasure a-and…."

"And you wanted to see if the rumours were true?"

You nodded.

"Well, Miss Y/N, my name is Seonghwa and I am the Keeper of The Keys here in the Library. The rumours you've heard are more or less true. There is treasure here, but it is housed in the Restricted Section and requires several keys to access it."

Hope flared in your heart, and you leaned forward a bit. "How do I get those keys?"

"You must get them from the Guardians of the main sections within this library: Science Fiction, Horror, History, Mystery, Fantasy and Adventure."

"And how does that work exactly?"

"In each section there will be a special book that will send you into a dream-like state and transport you to wherever the Guardian is. The first time or two you might be somewhat aware that your surroundings are fabricated, but the deeper in you go the more real things will feel. Once you have obtained all the keys, bring them back to me and we can proceed from there."

Seonghwa led you over to a set of double doors and pulled them open. Inside you could see plaques announcing the many different sections. Determined, you stepped forward, deciding to go for the Mystery section first.

"I wish you luck Y/N." Seonghwa said as he closed the doors behind you.

[thoughts-and-other-thoughts]

concept: severus snape with a child

i had a thought, what if severus snape had a child.

i can't really picture snape ever settling down with someone and starting a family in a war/canon-compliant timeline. but if he did have a child, i would imagine it being the result of a drunken one-night stand with a muggle woman. i think he would also have had to have some personal development away from the wizarding world for that event to occur.

imagine after the war, severus has sort of let himself go in a lot of aspects, it's hard to get a job and his group of friends (pureblood slytherins) have all sort of distanced themselves from severus. or are sort of leading him on that they'll get him in touch with someone to get a job or join the dark lord, as many of them have joined or allied themselves with. but they never really get back to him, and snape sort of gets the hint and distances himself too and realizes that maybe this is for the better. this isolation may lead to deeper self-reflection and getting some muggle job and getting himself by.

around this same time, i like to think that his mother, eileen, is struggling with dementia in a nursing home. his father would have already passed away during snape's school years. eileen is constantly seeing either snapes father, tobias, when he was young in snape or is in shock that her little sev is so grown up due to her strained memory which is only getting worse. i think this also would lead to a change in severus and sort of a maturing and realizing that he needs to get his life together because he's getting older and his parents are dying off.

so about for a year (he would be about 18 years old now), he works really hard, changes a lot as a person in terms of his views and values. he starts trying to find potential for life outside of the muggle world. and then one day he finally decides to go to a bar and have a good time with a few work buddies, and after a few nights out like this, one day he meets someone. he sees a pretty woman, who in my mind looks significantly different from lily (because this is my headcanon and in this his mind diverts from a lot of things associated with his school years, and lily is one of them. he also matures in the sense that he realises he has zero chance with lily and comes to terms with the fact she has married james, and perhaps with time he also lets go of his hate for james but i think that would take longer). anyways, back to the woman that snape finds really beautiful. in my mind she is a pretty korean woman names young-hee and she is a few years older than snape. snape is usually pretty introverted by this point but he is a bit drunk and with hype from his buddies he decides to approach her and asks to buy her a drink. despite expecting rejection, she allows him to and they immediately hit it off.

the two talk all night and then head to snapes apartment where they do hanky panky. and in the morning they have a pretty intimate moment and then young-hee leaves. only issue is that snape doesn't hear from her for about two months until one day he gets a knock at the door pretty early in the morning and it's young-hee. she tells him she's pregnant and that she's keeping it (mostly due to pressure from family), snape is very conflicted but almost leaves young-hee to raise the child on her own but as part of his character growth he decides he will stay and be a better father than his own (because his not very good relationship with his father). he does his best to help support young-hee and their child, with help from her side of the family as well, and it is very clear they don't approve of snape. but snape still wants to be there for them. snape is just 19 when this child is born and after a few months of raising this child, young-hee decides to talk with snape.

minor detail: child is a girl (though i do have a timeline for if it a boy, slightly different but might make a post about that too) and her name is eileen after snape's mother

in this talk she basically tells him that she has no interest in raising the child and asks his thoughts on putting the child for adoption. snape is very against it even if admits raising the child has been hard, and then young-hee drops the bomb that she wants to give up her parental rights and leave the child to him. she later moves to america with a different boyfriend.

snape is now a single father of his daughter and raising her has become very difficult. this is when a lot of his character development happens, he has to deal with things like changing diapers, making meals, cleaning, learning to have patience, taking care of a little girl in general. he has to grow because now he is responsible for a life other than his own. and when he is about 21, snapes mother dies. despite his grief, he still has to persevere and keep going and this makes him stronger than he was before. this is also right about the time the war ends and the potters die but in this special timeline i would rather have the potters alive so by some miracle they are alive but harry is still the chosen one. (i am aware that this isn't really possible but too bad it's my headcanon) and right as the war ends, jobs are easier to get in the wizarding world, so snape, seeking a better life for himself and his daughter, applies to hogwarts for it's defense against the dark arts post and a couple other places which won't really be relevant. he gets a job at hogwarts but as the potions professorr.

snape is a smart man and picks up the job pretty quickly and is a pretty good professor, still strict but not plain cruel as he is in the books. also less creepy vibes and a bit more understanding. he would still be pretty stern though. no more drawling voice and talking with his mouth half closed though, when he talks he talks like a regular person. his clothing also changes a bit and he tends to wear a wider variety of robes instead of just the dramatic billowing black robes. he instead opts for just regular suits like the other professors but in colors like black, grey, and other darker grey-tone colors. his hair would also be a bit more well-maintained, not as greasy and rough. probably cut shorter as well.

this job pretty much turns snape's life around, and now he has a stable source of income, can provide more for his daughter and can ensure her a better life. they no longer live on rent in the apartment and can instead buy a small house for the two of them. i can imagine this home because a comfortable size, about three bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, a nice living room with a good amount of windows, all one story, and just generally nice and cozy. i also think snape would send eileen to muggle school till she is old enough to go to hogwarts because he values her education. life becomes very stable for the two od them.

then eileen turns 11 and she will attend hogwarts. i think that even though snape was in slytherin and his head of slytherin house, she would be a ravenclaw. i can see the sorting hat considering putting her in slytherin but she is generally a pretty creative and curious person and that outweighs any slytherin traits she has. her curious and creative nature is definitely embedded into her by snape, making her also prioritize her education and learning, and since she was raised by a professor, it's not shocking to think that she might have a thirst for knowledge. also to give an idea of her age, she is about two years older than harry potter, and the same age as the weasley twins.

she wouldnt be very close with harry during her school years either, and would know each other through quidditch. in this timeline, eileen plays quidditch. at first i think she would have just tried out because her friend, roger davies, did too. but they both ended up getting on the team and she realized how much she genuinely enjoyed the sport. in her second year she gets placed as a seeker but is replaced by cho chang the year after (cho is a year younger than her) and is then a beater. this is also how think she would become friends with cho chang, but this is my headcanon so cho chang is going be katherine chang because i like that for her and think the name katherine suits her.

snape would definitely support her in quidditch, even though it's funny that he's supporting a ravenclaw despite being head of slytherin house. his support wouldn't really be wearing ravenclaw colors or anything but more wishing her good luck, giving her feedback after games, and just other gestures like that. this is also something i want to emphasize, how snape shows his care as a father and just how different he is from canon because of all these events and how they've developed his character.

he would still be a pretty quiet at home with just eileen but not awkwardly or in a way that makes him seem cold. just more of in a calm way, they can still have conversations where they laugh and talk but they're just more calm and very understanding. they can be loud, usually more from eileen's side because she is def more extroverted than snape. snape would still listen and smile. he would definitely smile more in this timeline and even laugh. he would just generally be more happy and open because of eileen. he would also be a bit more okay with physical affection like hugs and kisses (on the cheek and forehead wtv) because of eileen (he raised a child ofc he's more open ab things). i also like to think of little cute things that probably happened when eileen was younger, like snape trying to tie eileen's hair and wtv.

also romance-wise wise i want to pair her with fred weasley because i love the "professor's daughter x the kid the professor hates" trope. and think it could be very cute and funny since i think snape would be a very protective of eileen and fred just tripping on his feet around snape after he starts dating eileen is just hilarious to me. also in this timeline, george is the one who asked angelina to the yule ball not fred, which also works better with their canonical marriage. i also have a very nice ending planned for fred and eileen heehee.

another detail: eileen is infertile and suffers with endometriosis. she has very painful periods and they've only gotten worse as she got older. (even if she got her period kind of late at like 15) sometimes it's so bad she has a hard time getting up, and literally just cries. and she also struggles with the fact she is infertile. and in my mind there are a lot of scenarios where snape really supports eileen through these things and takes care of her

and then now we can get to her meeting the potters (and remus and sirius, peter has still betrayed them) at an order meeting. this is the order meeting from the beginning of the order of the phoenix. eileen isn't allowed to be inside and hence sort of sticks with the other kids. this is where the potters will briefly meet eileen. snape wants to leave shortly after the meeting ends but gets caught up talking to some other members and eileen wants to talk to people from her school a bit and gets caught up talking to tonks. and then eileen finishes up her conversation with tonks and starts talking to harry a bit, until both harry's parents and eileen's dad, snape come over to tell them it's time to leave. snape has to talk to james a bit and they talk to eileen a bit too, just small talk. by this point though, james and severus are civil with each other, both being adults who've matured and changed. and are able to be polite and have a small chat.

minor detail: the marauders (except peter) have bumped into snape before when they were in their early 20s and have seen snape struggle with raising eileen in public and so they've all gained some sense of empathy for him, especially james since he also had harry pretty young and in that he gains some kind of respect for severus since he raised a child by himself earlier than him. and meeting eileen just multiplies that respect seeing that he's raised a good kid and has progressed in life greatly. so that at least lessens the hate from james' end.

anyways fast forward a bit, this is eileens 7th year and umbridge is around and war 2 tensions are back. when harry starts dumbledore's army i can imagine him approaching eileen due to their now established "friendship" from meeting at the order meeting. and he talks to her about this dumbledore's army idea and asks for some help with content to learn since she's very smart and tutors people, and is older so she of course knows a good deal more than him. and she is very open to this idea and agrees to help him. this is her last peaceful year though btw.

in this timeline i dont think snape would be a double agent or kill dumbledore, mostly because it wouldn't really add up with his character now. and also because of his daughter's blood status being like 75% muggle. dumbledore would just end up being killed by a different death eater (draco or a different one). snape would also leave his job and start working as just an order member due to his and eileen's being threatened multiple times while he was a professor due to his old ties from school and death eaters trying to recruit.

somewhere after eileen has graduated and become an order member and before the battle of hogwarts, eileen has to go on a mission where she loses her eye and snape almost dies but is saved by eileen. this is a big change in their character due to eileen's now realization of how real this war is and snape's new perception of eileen and her strength. there are other missions as well of course but this is just one i wanted to mention.

so now we're at the battle of hogwarts. just to make it clear, the marauders are all still alive by this point, other than peter. during the battle most of the regular casualties still happen, remus does die. fred dies. but since snape is no longer a double agent, he does not die. however, eileen does die.

post-war, snape eventually retires from teaching and lets go of his heath due to his grief and eventually dies about fifteen years later at the age of about sixty five.

anyways so that's just a whole storyline I've made up, this gives snape a redemption arc and I've added an oc.

also dni if youre going to leave hate, I'm open to discussion though.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Unnamed GN! MC x Mammon Fake Fic

Ship is kind of a side pairing? It's definitely there but it focuses on evenryone

@littlewonderstar

Yes okay this is 3 years late.....

Sequel to Chapter 7 - Love Made Me Do it - human childhood friends Au

Okay I wasn't planning a sequel so I need to figure out the timeline first and set up the...story? I dunno, hang on;

Ages by the time all the brothers are permanently living in the 'House of Lamentation';

Lucifer - 29 Mammon & MC - 27 Levi - 26 Asmo - 25 Beel & Belphie - 22 Lilith - 21 Satan - 18

This is also gonna focus on the entire family more than just on mc x mammon

After he turns 18, Mammon lives with Lucifer at his apartment and though they are constantly arguing it's not that bad? If anything it reminds them both of when they were younger before the others came along.

They're both constantly visiting their younger siblings at their foster home and Mammon is still constantly running around causing trouble with MC (this is way before they get their shit together and figure out they're dating).

MC takes a gap year before starting college and Mammon opts out of it altogether, despite Lucifer's insistent screaming, because the structure and process of school was hard enough goddamnit! They both do lots of small, part time jobs during the year (with scams peppered in). By the end of the yr Levi has turned 18 and moves in with Mammon (19) & Lucifer (21).

MC (19) leaves for college and Lucifer has to practically tear Mammon away from them. Mammon mopes around the house for a while after that despite constantly calling and face-timing MC and even Lucifer feels bad enough that he stops nagging Mammon to find a real job (for a week) and moves on to nagging Levi instead.

Asmo moves in by the end of the year when he turns 18 (and by now this little two bedroom apartment has 4 residents) but leaves almost immediately to uni to study to be a fashion designer

Mammon and MC rent out a small shitty one bedroom mattress-on-the-floor-those-stains-on-the-floor-look-suspiciously-like-blood apartment. MC goes to college to become a professional photographer and when their assignments call for it they use Mammon as a muse/model. while Mammon's juggling many part time jobs, this is the foot in the door he needs to start getting small professional modelling gigs that slower grow bigger and more frequent until its earning him a more or less steady income.

Levi helps some online friend with a software issue and this spirals towards him doing software/hardware repair from the apartment he shares with Lucifer (who obviously works for Diavolo - like in the human realm in canon, Diavolo owns a series of popular hotels and Lucifer is in charge of the first/biggest/main one).

Beel goes to college with a sports scholarship while still debating what to do (his ideal dream would be one of those jobs on the food network where you travel around the world eating food but he also doesn't want to be away from his family for too long, specially Belphie). He ends up, through college football, falling into sports physiotherapy and he comes back to Lucifer's every weekend.

Belphie takes a three year break before deciding what to do - mostly he just sleeps during the break & if anyone asks his life plan is to become someone's sugar baby. He does eventually end up going to college for astronomy. He sleeps through all his classes but graduates top of the class. He ends up working as an astronomer but his end goal is to retire as soon as possible and sell feet pics on the internet.

Lilith majors in herpetology with a focus in snakes, she does a minor in women's studies. She ends up in a love triangle in college - dates a guy - breaks up with him after a huge fight but they still hold a candle for each other - he starts dating a girl - Lilith accidentally seduces said girl by showing off her pet snake and buying her a slice of apple pie from a very popular/expensive/exclusive cafe called The Garden which is almost impossible to get into (Luckily her eldest brother's childhood friend/ex/current close friend is the head baker). At this point everyone likes each other but Lilith's never seen her ex's new girlfriend or her current crush's boyfriend and so on and so on. But when her ex gets badly sick & hospitalised Lilith ends up deciding to go visit him and bring a whole apple pie (his favourite) from the cafe. Of course she then meets his girlfriend/her current crush and lots of things are cleared up. When he gets better they all end up sitting down and talking and eventually over time they end up in a relationship together. Lilith does occasionally live with her brothers during college but afterwards the three of them move in together away from the city to a quaint little cottage with a lovely garden (the boyfriend is also dating some guy named Steve but he doesn't live with them). At some point in the future the girlfriend has two kids and I'm sure they live long, happy lives and nothing bad happens. Lilith runs a reptile rescue (specialising in snakes) and jokingly calls them her demon children.

Satan's that person who changes his major at least 5 times - usually depending on what the person in the book he's reading does. In the end he majors in library science and becomes a librarian.

That's the overall setup and what happens to them.

At a point where Lucifer's making the most money he can and none of the others (except Levi) are living with him but are in and out of the (now larger) apartment in groups of twos and threes, he ends up buying a very old very run down mansion where a family of 7 & their servant once lived and died after they were murdered (with only one survivor).

He says none of this to the others. He doesn't even tell them he's buying a house until he does so. During their next family only dinner (MC included because they were part of the family long before they got together with Mammon) Lucifer tells them all he bought a mansion with a large garden, and that any of them that wishes to live there can - free of charge as long as they're willing to split up the food and electricity bills. But that it's a bit rundown and that he wants their help to renovate it. Everyone is of course very excited.

Which leads to them (- lilith who had prior commitments & lives the furthest from everyone), on the next weekend, standing outside the most definitely haunted house they've ever seen. The trees in the front are bare of any leaves and blackened as if burned. Crows litter the branches staring down at them with beady eyes, cawing. It's early morning but the whole area is dark and bats circle the top of the house. The gate is a tall spindly thing that creaks in the wind. There's no other house anywhere close to it and they had to travel down a long narrow twisting road, surrounded on either side by a dense forest of tall thin trees, covered in mist to get to the house. The forest circles the house and the large back garden, now overgrown and full of weeds, almost blends in with the forest.

The eight of them stand in a row in front of the house, 7 of them wearing looks of horror while Lucifer smiles serenely.

"What the fuck" someone quiety mutters though none of them can tell which one it was

Lucifer then proceeds to tell them, quiet happily, the story behind the house before picking up a large box of tools and going inside. The others slowly shuffle after him until it's just Mammon & MC standing there.

Mammon, horrified but also strangely resigned: we're going to die here aren't we

MC, deciding there's nothing to do for it so they might as well roll with the punches, cheerful: Nope. You're going to die here. I'm going to get framed for murder and *then* killed via staged suicide

They pick up their box and move towards the house. Mammon scrambles after them.

This could have two endings.

One is they renovate everything. Bit by bit for one reason or another everyone (minus lilith) trickles back in and end up living in the house. They have family dinners with Lilith and all the in-laws (MC, Diavolo, Simeon who's technically an ex but everyone loves him so he still comes over, Solomon who's in an open relationship with Asmo, Lilith's partners, Luke because he's Simeon's kid AND everyone decided that means he's their kid too/their little brother) at least once or twice a month. They do have family and friend dinners once a month. At the family dinners Lilith's boyfriend/husband gravitates towards the other in-laws after realising how batshit crazy Lilith's family is only to then slowly realise 'no everyone's a freak here'. This ending comes slowly, it is not so much an ending as it is us no longer following their story as they continue through the ups and downs of life.

The second ending is this:

All that happens in the first ending still happens here, but there's also more to it all. And so we retrace our steps a bit;

The eight work together, sometimes joined by Lilith and the other dateables & undateables to renovate the entire house. They accidentally break through the floor and find a catacomb/labyrinth. the wind moves through it in such a way it sounds like howls of many creatures. They also find a crypt down there with an old book chained to it. Having watched Evil Dead they quickly make their way upstairs and seal up the hole.

MC's room has a whole ass tree in it and they refuse to let anyone chop it down.

Levi's has a wide stone closet built into the wall itself that they turn into a huge tank for Henry 2.0

Lucifer's deadass has a skeleton locked in a cage in it.

Mammon, immediately doing a U-turn and marching out of the room: MOTHERFUCKIN FUCK FUCK I'M OUT

MC, already follwing after him: I'll get him back don't worry

Levi, from behind the door - refusing to come inside: I-is it real?

Lucifer, already marching towards it: doesn't matter we'll be taking it down either way

In the end, they don't take it down. Mammon, Levi & Asmo refuse to touch it. Satan refuses to help Lucifer on his own room. Belphie can't be bothered to. Lucifer & MC are running around supervising and there's always something more urgent that comes up that takes it off their mind. Lilith thinks it gives the room character & forbids Beel from taking it down unless Lucifer expressly asks him to. Lucifer forgets & by the time he remembers the skeleton (now dubbed Roger) has become a fixture.

MC swears they can hear a voice calling from the attic, asking to be let out, each time they go to sleep at night - though of course no one's up there.

There's a dark reddish brown mark at the bottom of the staircase, just a little away from the front doors that none of them can get rid of no matter what they do

The house is probably haunted (or there's a gas leak no one's identified yet) but they learn to live with it, the way humans eventually learn to live with everything.

Beel goes to get a snack in the middle of the night and the fridge is always full of empty containers covered in a writing that blurs in front of his eyes. He cleans it out, closes the fridge, pats its door fondly and thanks it, taking whatever is needed to make a sandwich. He knows when he checks tomorrow that no containers will be left on the countertop and will easily dismiss it as the imaginings of a half wake, hungry mind.

No matter how much they clean out and empty the attic, someone keeps pilling blankets and pillows there until Belphie says fuck it and makes it his main napping spot

Lucifer's pens keep rearranging, Satan's bookmarks keep moving between pages, someone keeps going through Levi's stuff, Asmo's products run out faster, Mammon's room gets messy even if he cleaned it and then spent the rest of his time in MC's room, MC finds photos with the brothers they can never remember taking. Lilith's room (which she uses whenever she visits) is the only that always remains untouched.

But these things happen sporadically enough that they can just live with it and anyway all of them aren't living there (yet).

Lucifer, Levi & Asmo are the permanent residents along with Lucifer's three new dogs.

Mammon finally earns enough to buy the car he's always wanted but he doesn’t want to keep it at their apartment building so he ends up moving it to the garage in Lucifer's house, which means he & MC end up moving there (they mostly share a room at night despite having two separate rooms)

Beel wanted to move back with his family and so Belphie was pulled along.

Satan swore up and down that he was only moving here becaue of the large home library and truly nothing else.

Lilith continues to live at her own place with her partners.

The part of the first ending happens here. We once again stop following their story as they continue to live their lives.

And then we take a step. Through a door that wasn't there before, held open by a creature as old as time playing the part of a butler for a prince. We take a step over the threshold and across the universe.

To another house much like the one we left and yet - and yet - much different.

Where a family - loud and bright - lives - as they should - loudly and brightly.

Where an eldest, always working, ever busy, doesn't take care for how he arranges his pens as long as they're always on hand.

Where a second, always running, ever in a hurry, doesn't bother where his clothes land when taken off.

Where a third, serves as a general in world that has long since removed itself from the choking, tearing, searing hold of War and is now free to do with his time whatever he wills with no job to distract him from his real interests

Where a fourth who can live his entire life without needing sleep uses a bit of that time to read through books at a pace too rapid for a human to ever keep up with

Where a fifth will shed of his human skin every couple months to moisturise and groom his true body, so much larger than a human's would ever be

Where a sixth's ravenous impossible appetite empties whatever is lain in front of him

Where a seventh has made a home in what once was a cage

Where a human never stops trying to capture every moment of this new fantastical world

Where a sister's room remains closed and forever unused.

Where the pure magic in the air is strong enough that sometimes things just...bleed through the fabric of the universe

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

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[slaasherslut]

Milo Vess NSFW Alphabet

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ BELOW CUT

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Milo is cuddly and sleepy after sex. He likes to top and that tires him out a bit more so he is immediately pulling his partner into his arms to cuddle. He’ll do whatever his partner asks of him after he catches his breath. They want some clothes? Need a bit of cleaning up? Maybe a glass of water? Milo's got it. After everything is taken care of he's pulling them close and falling right to sleep.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Milo doesn't like many parts of himself, but if he had to pick he would say he likes his hands. He feels that he's a hard worker and it shows on his hands. His palms are rough from the constant hard labour and it can be felt when he touches his partner. He's also had a hook up in the past tell him he has really nice, veiny hands and he's been riding that high ever since.

On a partner he's real big on thighs and chest, specifically boobs. Milo is a major boob guy! He likes when a partner wears something that shows them off. Like a low or open shirt, short dresses, tiny shorts. During sex, he's always marking these spots up and grabbing them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to cum inside his partner. Any hole, doesn't matter,  he likes them all. If his partner isn't comfortable with that though he’ll wear a condom or happily pull out and cum on their skin.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One of Milo's fantasies is that he really wants to have sex in the cemetery. Partner bent over a gravestone, in the grass, on the workbench in the cemetery tool shed. He's fantasized about it quite a bit. So much so he's jerked off in the tool shed.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Milo has just enough experience to get the job done but he's still very new to everything. The only sexual partners he's had are the handful of them he's met in bars for one night stands. He's never had sex with someone he loves.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He's a classic man and he loves missionary. A big part of him getting off is getting his partner off and what better way to do that than to watch his partner face contort in pleasure as they unravel under him. He also really likes doggy for the jiggle of his partners ass and the sound of skin on skin.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Milo tends to be more serious when it comes to sex. He's a soft dom and in the bedroom he has a job; please his partner to their hearts content and get himself off along the way. He also is terrified hes not going to do a good job which makes him even more eager to please. Once the relationship in more steady though he'll really start to open up. That isn't to say he isn't one to giggle with them if a toy flies out of their hands and onto the floor or if he thrusts too hard and smacks their head into the headboard.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpet definitely matches the drapes. Dark brown and curly. He has a tendency to just let it grow unless he has a partner hes actively having sex with, then he does it more often. He doesn't fully shave either, he will just give it a trim. He doesn't like when the hair is too short because it looks weird to him, which is why he doesn't mind a little hair on his partner either.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Milo will naturally show his love and appreciation for his partner through praise, but if his partner wanted more he would be happy to oblige. Romance isn't necessary for Milo but it definitely lights a fire in his groin when he feels loved during the deed.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He usually saves jerking off for at night, right before bed. Cumming helps him fall asleep. But if he's really got the energy and the time he’ll pull out one of his toys for a longer session.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Knife play, size kink (his partner being smaller than him), praising, dacryphilia (but only if his partner is crying in reaction to pleasure, not pain), and possession.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He much prefers the familiarity of his bedroom or his couch but if he's feeling adventurous he also likes the back of his car.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Milo is a pretty standard dude when it comes to turning him on. Skin to skin contact on his chest and stomach, dirty talking, and clothes that leave little to the imagination.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's pretty open to try anything once but two things he knows he wouldn't like is pegging and anything that includes sharing his partner. Hes way too possessive to share.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers receiving but he’ll never shy away from giving. He's not the most experienced with oral and that shows but he can still get the job done. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He tends to mostly be fast and rough but he’ll have small bursts of moments where he takes things slow. This happens mostly when his partner expresses love for him or when they ask for it. He likes to save the slow and sensual parts for foreplay.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Milo is always down for a quickie. He’d much prefer regular sex but he's always down to get out some of that pent up sexual frustration on his work break or between a chain of erotic texts.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Milo is willing to take risks if his partner is. He's open to trying most things once and since he's not super experienced he’d love to try out lots of things to see what he likes.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His record is three rounds but it's usually two at max. If it's a faster, more aggressive session then he's looking at around 15-20 minutes per rounds. A slower, more teasing session can last around 30 minutes. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Milo isn't one to shy away from using toys with his partner. He doesn't view them as competition, he simply views them as tools for getting off. He has a couple of his own but they're more so for his own enjoyment. He definitely has a fleshlight he keeps in his nightstand for easy access.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Milo is a big tease. He gets off on teasing his partner and watching them writhe and beg. Being teased though? He can't stand it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Milo is decently loud, he's not one to hold back how he's feeling. Sex with him is filled with low grunting and growling. You can tell he's close because his noises get deeper, he’ll slur his words, and his dirty talk slows. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Milo loves to watch his partner getting off without him even touching them but him still being in full control. There is something about watching them from other angles he wouldn't normally see that really turns him on. He would love to watch his partner ride one of those silicone male torsos or watch them get pounded by a fuck machine while he jerks off and controls the speed. Getting fucked while still having his partner all to himself. His partner feeling so helpless and Milo feeling in complete control.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Milo is cut, a solid 7 inches fully hard and thicker near the base than towards the tip. He's got 1.5 inches of girth near the base. His dick is also dotted with a few freckles. Most of them are down near the base but he has a few up near the head.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is hardly ever zero, it's just a bit less if he worked that day and he's tired. But once he's with someone and he's getting sex regularly, he's almost always ready to go.  

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If Milo knows he can relax and trusts his partner, afterwards he's out like a light. He might indulge in a bit of pillow talk before he passes out with them in his arms. If it's just a hookup though he’ll head home and pass right out. Regardless, post sex naps give him the best sleeps.

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