#or cabin or shack or something

[clamorybus]

i hope in the next sdv update we get the option to build linus a house

[thefallenangel2008]

Ok, but like, what if there was an AU where Stan died when Ford shot him with the memory gun. Maybe deleting his entire mind caused fatal brain damage and he died. But he still doesn't remember anything. His spirit has no memory of who he is or about anything. So the Axolotl picked him up, a brave and lost soul, and made him the spirit guardian of Gravity Falls, making sure he keeps evil away from the town. For some reason he's very attached to that cabin just outside of the small town and the people and the kids who regularly go there, especially to the old man who looks almost exactly like him, save from the extra fingers.

Maybe the Mystery Shack still runs under Soos' care, because that's something Stan worked for his whole life. Closing it and basically ruining everything Stan worked for for 30 years... Didn't sit right with anyone. Maybe Ford goes on boat sailing alone, on the Stan o' War II, as a way of honoring Stan and their equally dead dream to sail the world together. That's why everything happened in the first place, didn't it? The kids when they go back home have to explain to their family, to their parents and grandpa Shermie, that "Grunkle Stan had a stroke and died" (this came out funnier than intended).

Maybe next summer happens. To spend time together and create happy memories. Because that's what Stan would want. They all go to visit Stan's grave, and Stan stares at them. Because he knows them, he knows he knows them, but he can't remember how or when.

Anyway, @babyblankyerror I think you'll like it. :)

[artificial-transmutations]

The Stud Shack

"The Stud Shack?" Eric read from the flyer with a voice conveying more than a little doubt. He was sitting squeezed in between two of his friends, Ryan and Noah, in the back seat of a car.

"Oh, don't mind the name, it's gonna be awesome!" Ryan, his best friend, chimed in from the left. "It's just a remote cabin meant for a getaway with a couple of dudes, nothing weird. And trust me, a weekend with your friends is what you need right now."

"Yeah, something to get your mind off -" Liam, in the driver's seat, was interrupted by a punch from the muscular jock to his right, Derek.

"Dude! Not cool. Eric, forget about that girl, she was a bitch anyway."

Eric nodded but remained silent. 'That girl' was his long-time girlfriend, who had left him recently. The pain was still fresh, but the trip with the guys was at least a welcome distraction, even though he would have preferred to spend the weekend alone watching TV and staring at the walls.

Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - his friends had a different idea and instead of leaving him to his moping, they had dragged him off to the woods for a 'guy's trip' - whatever that meant. Besides his childhood friend Ryan, with his carefully maintained Viking look, braided beard and all, there were Noah, Derek and Liam.

Noah and Liam were the nerdier types of the group, although they couldn't be any more different otherwise. Where Noah was a quiet and skinny IT expert, Liam was a loud and a bit chubby comic nerd. The two of them were playing DnD together regularly, of course, to complete the stereotype.

Derek, on the other hand, was a typical jock, with short-cropped hair, the physique of a quarterback and the brains of a post, although Eric had to admit that Derek was actually not the asshole everyone assumed a guy looking like him to be. Instead, he was rather warm-hearted and friendly once you got to know him. He was even a bit protective of the other guys in the group, especially the smaller ones.

Which brought Eric's thoughts to himself. He was pretty normal, all things considered, but perhaps the least manly of the lot, a fact he was constantly aware of since they started this trip. Not only was he rather short, he lacked all qualities that made a guy attractive to the fairer gender; there were no muscles to his frame and his baby-face was as smooth as the rest of his body. Even the two nerds were, in a way, more manly than he was: Liam was a sweater and had an aggressive natural body odor, a fact that he was thankfully fully aware off and successfully battled by changing clothes more than often and using copious amounts of deodorant. While this was certainly the dark side of manliness, it was still better than the nothing that Eric could offer in that regard.

Noah on the other hand... On the first glance, there were about as many male qualities to him as there were to Eric, besides the former being a bit taller. However, Eric had seen his friend in the shower after a rare occasion of them both going to the gym, and Noah's dick was *considerably* bigger than his own. That was also a point of envy for Eric, and it had stung quite a bit when his girlfriend had mentioned his 'cute little dickling' as another reason why she had grown tired of him.

No, Eric summarized, it had been a miracle he had been able to find one woman to date him, and that was not likely to happen again. Perhaps he should just accept his fate and stay single forever.

It was already getting dark as the car stopped in front of the cabin, and Eric had to admit that the place looked rather nice. Nestled between a few trees, the cabin was built out of large, sturdy logs and the whole area was illuminated by the soft lights of the setting sun. It looked a lot better than he had expected from a 'stud shack'. Perhaps this whole trip wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

As they got out of the car, Noah pulled a paper from his pocket and squinted at it in the fading light.

"Uhm, the door should be unlocked. And here's the Wi-Fi password. And the owner wishes us a 'transformative stay', whatever that means."

He shrugged, put the paper away again and stepped up to the front door to confirm that it was indeed open.

The inside of the cabin was tidy and rustic. The whole floor was covered in a plush carpet, and a few large sofas dominated the living room, along with a large flat screen. That was, however, not the thing that immediately captured Eric's eyes.

"What the..." he began, accompanied by similar exclamations from the other guys. Only Ryan's exclamation was a bit different: "Hot!"

In the middle of the living room was a stone pillar that supported the second story of the cabin. It was, however, not smooth. Intricately worked into the gray stone were figures winding around the pillar, in varying shapes and sizes and - that became obvious even from the distance - all very male and completely naked. Only on second look, Eric noticed that they were not consistently proportioned, as if depicted in a scene of in-between shifting into other forms. One arm of one of the guys looked considerably bigger than the other one, for example. On the third look, it got even weirder. What Eric thought to be separate figures were actually merged and conjoined with one another, forming a large sculpture of a strange mass of bodies that wound their way around the pillar, with no beginning and no end. It was an endless tangle of manly bodies, and he could see muscles bulging and flexing, asses round as melons and cocks big enough to be seen from the distance.

"That's... an orgy." Noah remarked in a dry tone.

"Well, at least we know now where the cabin got its name." Eric agreed.

"Yeah. Who would want *that* in his living room?" Liam said, equally confused.

"Me!" Ryan replied, still ogling the sculpture.

It was no secret Ryan was gay, openly and proudly. He could often been seen hitting on the next guy on Grindr and commented on men he found attractive so often it had become a running gag in the group. So, it was no surprise he had to comment on this piece of art, too.

"Dude, these guys are fucking *hot*. Look at this one's arms, and this one's abs. Fuck, I'd love to lick that chest."

"Ryan!" Derek exclaimed.

"What?"

"You're being horny again." Derek reminded him matter-of-factly and Liam chuckled.

"Ryan is *always* horny."

The other guys nodded, and Ryan laughed.

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna ogle this piece of art *in silence* then."

"Good. Now, how about we get settled in and start the weekend?" Noah proposed, and the other guys agreed.

They dropped off their stuff in the bedrooms and returned to the living room. Derek had grabbed a cooler full of beer, and soon, they were lounging on the couches, drinking and chatting while the TV showed the highlights of last night's games. Besides the large totem pole like pillar in the middle of the room, the 'stud shack' seemed to be nothing more than a cozy cabin. And, Eric suspected, since the column was load-bearing, it wouldn't have been easy to remove it, even if the owner didn't like it. It was easy enough to ignore, though, and the evening was filled with laughter, beer, junk food and stories, just as Ryan had promised.

The long drive took its toll and one by one, the guys went to bed, until only Ryan and Eric were left in the living room. It was time for a serious talk, as Eric saw it.

"Thanks for taking me along, Ryan. It is... nice."

"Hey, no problem, dude." Ryan replied, smiling. "We're friends. And I know that you wouldn't have gotten over her on your own, you need a bit of distraction."

"Thanks. Hey, uhm, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Always. Shoot."

"You're gay, right? Do you think I'm attractive?"

"Wha- where does that come from?"

"My ex, you know. She dumped me. And I think it's because I'm not, well, handsome. I mean, look at those guys."

Eric stood up and circled the pillar, pointing at the various naked male forms. When he found a particularly attractive face, he let his finger brush over it and twitched back for a second as he felt like he had received a mild static shock.

"They're... hot. You said so yourself when you entered. And I am... nothing of that sort. How am I supposed to find a girl like that?"

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, man. You're a nice guy."

"Perhaps I am *nice*. But nobody cares for *nice*, at least no woman." It sounded bitter than he had planned.

Ryan sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to say this... But you are a great guy, Eric. Smart, friendly, always there to listen. There is a girl for every straight guy, even for a dork like you. And that girl will love you and you'll make her happy. You just have to find her first."

"Yeah. Thanks for saying that, Ryan. But how am I supposed to do that? I had to go to college to meet my ex and now that I have my job..."

"Look, I get it," Ryan interrupted. "You think you need to market yourself better. And you know what? If you think you need to do that, do it, man."

"Like, how?" Eric looked up and saw his friend grinning at him.

"Hit the gym, dude. Get those gains. Every girl wants a man with muscle."

"I... don't know. I don't have time, and I don't know if I have the dedication..."

"Then start smaller. Like... Grow a beard. Beards are hot! Look at mine."

Ryan ran a hand over his chin and the intricate braid in his beard.

"I don't think I could pull that off." Eric laughed. "My beard is so thin, it looks like a teenager's. I have literally no natural hair growth anywhere."

"Come on, it can't be *that* bad," Ryan laughed and felt Eric's chin. However, as he did, something weird happened. It felt like another static shock to Eric, and after a split second, a surprised look conquered Ryan's face, who was still grabbing his chin.

"What's wrong?"

Eric tried to turn his head away, but Ryan's hand followed.

"I... I'm stuck somehow."

"What?"

"Yeah. I can't let go of your face. It feels like... like I'm being pulled in."

As Ryan spoke, his hand moved forward a bit, and his fingers started to sink into Eric's skin.

"Woah, what's happening here?" The surprise quickly turning into panic as he tried to dislodge his right hand using the left one. But as he touched his hand, the sinking process spread to both of them and they disappeared up to his wrists in Eric's face, while his friend could only look in surprise, feeling nothing but a warm, fuzzy sensation.

"This isn't good! Dude! What is going on?" Ryan was full-on panicking by now, and his struggling only accelerated the whole thing. His arms were sucked into the face of Eric now, and they continued to move forward.

"Ryan!" Eric exclaimed in horror, but he didn't know what to do. Ryan's torso was being pulled in, too, and he could see his friend's face pressing against his own. Their lips touched, and suddenly Ryan was gone, and his feet had vanished into Eric's face. Eric was alone, safe for a heap of Ryans clothes in front of him.

"Ryan? Where are you, buddy?" he asked, confused, and his hand went to his face. It felt normal, and everything seemed fine. Had he imagined it?

But then, his hand touched his chin, and he was in for another surprise. Instead of his usual smoothness, he felt a generous amount of beard that had sprouted on his chin. It was nothing like the carefully maintained long beard Ryan had sported. Instead, it was a wild growth of hair, like one would expect from someone who hadn't shaved for a week. But that wasn't possible. This beard was longer than the amount of facial hair he had in total, and he certainly hadn't grown it in the last two seconds. And there was something else that was off. When he touched the unkempt hair, he felt... pride. It was such an alien feeling that it immediately became clear to him it wasn't entirely his own.

"Ryan? Are you... in there?"

He received no answer, but it *felt* like Ryan somehow. There could be no doubt. Ryan was somehow a part of him now. He should have panicked at that thought, but what Eric felt was something else entirely. It felt good. Right. As if his life had been missing a puzzle piece, and it had just been added to him. He liked the feeling, and he liked the new beard. It even made him a bit horny if he was being honest. Or more than a little bit perhaps.

He quickly gathered Ryan's clothes and disappeared into his bedroom, where he proceeded to jerk off furiously. He didn't understand one bit of what had just happened, but it was *incredibly* arousing. While he was pumping his shaft, his thoughts were drawn to men. It wasn't even a conscious decision, but it just felt right. So, as the image of his muscular buddy Derek appeared in his mind, his hand sped up and he was cumming in no time, spraying his cum on the bed sheets with a groan.

"Fuck, Ryan. Seems like you gave me more than a beard." Eric said, suddenly very tired. "Guess I'm gay now, huh?"

***

The next morning came, in after another jerk-off-session right after waking up, a certain post-nut-clarity set in. What should he tell the other guys? He could hardly tell the truth, that Ryan had been absorbed into his chin and had become his freaking beard!

No, he had to come up with a cover-story. And he needed to explain his sudden facial hair. Well, for the last problem, there was a solution.

"Sorry Ryan, I have to trim you a bit."

With that, he took out his razor and trimmed the dense stubble to a more believable length. He didn't want to get rid of it entirely, no, if he hadn't been in this situation, he wouldn't have shaved it at all. But Eric was confident the new growth would regrow quickly.

Explaining Ryan's absence wasn't as difficult as he imagined it to be, as well. After a quick breakfast with the rest of the team, Eric told them that Ryan had gotten up earlier than everyone else and had gone to a Grindr-date. It wouldn't have been the first time for Ryan to do that, so the other guys accepted the story, and the remaining four went on a hiking tour, as planned.

He received a few comments on his new stubble, which made him feel proud. For the first time in forever, Eric felt like he was making something out of himself.

The hike was hot and tiresome, and soon, they all were sweating profusely. Liam apologized constantly and was even more uncomfortable than usual. It was rather unnecessary if you asked Eric. Liam should just be proud of his manly traits instead of constantly promising to take a shower right after they returned to the cabin. But of course, the main attraction on the hike was Derek. The jock had taken off his shirt at the earliest opportunity to show off his impressive physique and muscles, and while the other two were ogling nature, Eric couldn't help but stare at his friend. A coating of chest hair accentuated the definition of his pecs and abs and was glistening in the sunlight as drops of sweat were rolling over his torso. Eric felt his shorts becoming tighter and he had to tear his gaze away to prevent an awkward situation.

Finally, they arrived back at the cabin and both Liam and Noah went straight for both the available showers, leaving him with Derek in the living room.

"You should take your shirt off as well, to help cooling off," the jock suggested, and Eric was happy to comply. However, as the minutes passed, Eric's gaze was shifting between his friend and the stone pillar. Derek was looking awfully good, and Eric felt a sting of envy. With muscles like that, with chest hair like that, he could surely have any guy he wanted. He would be a stud, the manliest man in the room. His eyes were fixated on the chiseled torso of Derek, who was sitting comfortably on the sofa. And then, there was the 'totem pole'. Eric didn't quite understand what had happened to Ryan yesterday, but it all started after Eric had touched the stone column. Perhaps, if he did that again...

Eric's hand was drawn to the sculpture, and he ran his fingers over the cold stone. He could almost feel the power of those guys in the rock itself. And, sure enough, there had been the mild static shock again.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Derek's voice brought Eric back to the reality. He saw that he had touched a face of a particularly beefy figure.

"Sorry, I was lost in thoughts. Hey, uhm..."

Did he really want to do that? But the new *urge* was getting stronger and stronger. Derek was not a clever man. This should be easy.

"Sorry, I'm still a bit sad. Could perhaps give me a hug?"

Derek looked at him suspiciously but then shrugged.

"Sure, dude." And he got up and approached his friend. Eric couldn't help but notice how Derek's pecs were flexing, and his abs were shifting with each step he made. They hugged and their bare chests touched. At the same time, however, Eric could feel his boner pressing into the groin of the other man, thankfully separated by layers of fabric. Before Derek could comment on the unwanted poking in his nether regions, however, the magic of the pillar took hold and the naked flesh of their chests touching merged together.

"Wha-" was all Derek could say before his body was being sucked into Eric's. His muscular arms were already gone, and he could only stare at the other guy in horror.

"I'm sorry, Derek. Don't worry, you will make a fine addition to my body." Eric didn't quite understand why he said that, but it felt... fitting.

Derek's head was sucked in and Eric's chest expanded, growing into a mirror of the muscular jock's own. At the same time, dense hair erupted from his chest, growing into a carpet that covered his pecs and his stomach. The feeling was incredible, like the orgasm earlier, only better. His whole body felt as if he was getting pumped up, and his muscles inflated all over. Derek's consciousness, however, faded into the mat of hair on his chest. It was a different feeling than Ryan's. Where Ryan had been a prideful presence, Derek was a calming one. It was almost as if his new muscles were reassuring him, telling him he was doing good. And, where he was constantly aware that Derek was still there and enjoying the ride, Derek's presence faded until it was only a faint background feeling. He was still there, but somehow less so than Ryan.

"Thanks dude." he said smilingly and ran his hands over his new muscle - and his new hair. It was ecstatic, intoxicating and addictive. Eric needed *more*. More to complete him. To turn him from the lame Eric he was to the stud he needed to become. And the urge was so strong that he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to.

His hand went to his groin and felt the boner that was still standing hard as rock against his shorts. Before he could start in earnest however, Noah and Liam entered the room, fresh from the shower with a towel around their waists.

"Is everything alright? I thought I heard Derek..." Liam began but was interrupted by Noah.

"Holy shit. What happened to you, dude?!"

He stared at Eric's new physique, and the latter grinned broadly.

"Like what you see, huh?" he said, and suddenly, he found himself *growling*. It was a deep animalistic growl, and the two other guys stepped back, intimidated.

There was no way he would be able to explain the scene, so he had to act quickly. His hand found the stone pillar and another mild shock made him aware of the power within.

"Guys, I'm feeling a bit lonely. Why don't you come here and give me a big group hug, hm? You both look so nice and clean and fresh, I would hate to leave you out."

However, unlike Derek, these two weren't quite so easy to convince. They exchanged a look and remained at a distance to the hunky guy.

"Dude, something's wrong here. Where is Derek? You should sit down, maybe we can get you some help..."

"I don't need help." Eric pointed out and circled the two of them, herding them away from the door and into a corner.

"I need *more*." And with a jump, he tackled Liam to the ground, easily overpowering the unfit man with his newfound strength.

"Your manly musk is *wasted* on you, Liam. You're too afraid to wear it proudly. Well, not anymore. Let's see how you like it in my *pits*."

He didn't give the other man the opportunity to react, instead forcing his armpit to Liam's face. It was only seconds before his pits made contact with his skin, and just like his chest with Derek, Liam was immediately sucked into the quickly moistening caverns.

Eric's pits grew deeper and started to sweat profusely. At the same time, he could feel the essence of Liam joining him as what had been Liam quickly dissolved into a dense coating of hair. Just as he was halfway absorbed, Eric quickly changed sides, giving his left armpit the same treatment. It was almost as if his pits were *hungry*, and the wet heat of his body sucked in the last of Liam's being until there was nothing left. Instead, his armpits were positively *hairy* now, and a musky and manly odor emanated from them and his whole body.

Liam's presence was clearly trapped in the bush of his pit hair, and Eric could clearly tell that he hated every second of it. But it was not like he had any choice. Liam was a part of him now, and he would have to get used to his new existence.

But Eric didn't have time to enjoy the sensations, since there was still Noah, who was cowering in the corner of the room, like a trapped animal. Eric growled at him and the other man winced. He was a lot weaker than Liam, and Eric would have no trouble at all to pin him against the wall.

He grinned a predatory grin and his presence and body odor flooded the room.

"You don't have to be afraid, Noah. It doesn't have to be like that. You can join me voluntarily... Or I can force you."

"I... I... Don't... You..." Noah's stammer was almost funny, and Eric chuckled, as he noticed the bulge forming in the other man's towel.

"Here's an offer. If you join me out of your free will, I am going to let you choose where you want to go on my glorious body. What's it gonna be, Noah?"

Noah's eyes flicked back and forth between Eric's armpits, his chest and his abs, clearly looking for a place to hide from the hungry pits that had just consumed Liam. His eyes stopped on Eric's crotch, however, and his large cock twitched under the cover of his towel. It seemed like he had made his choice.

"Say it, buddy. Tell me what you want. Which part of my hair do you want to become?"

Eric touched the totem column, getting ready for action. He knew what Noah wanted, but he wanted to hear it from the man himself.

"I... want to be your..." he stammered, but Eric's piercing gaze told him there was only one right answer and he had to say it.

"... pubes. I want to be your pubes. Please!"

"See, that wasn't so bad." Eric smirked. "Are you ready to become nothing more of a mat of dirty groin hair on my studly body? Are you ready to live a life in my pants, never to see the light of day again?"

"Yes! Please!"

Noah had given up on any resistance, and his hand went down to his own crotch and started stroking himself through his pants.

"Good. Then blow me!" Eric growled, and his dick sprang free from his shorts, rather short, erect and already leaking pre-cum. Noah was immediately on his knees and started servicing the dick of his friend, eager to please him. As before, a pleasurable warmth spread, this time in Eric's groin. He used his large hand to press Noah's face into his groin, feeling it and the rest of his body disappearing into the dense forest of his crotch.

Eric didn't feel the usual climax he expected, but the pleasure kept building and building. When Noah was completely absorbed, his dick was surrounded by a thick bush of black pubic hair, and he was hornier than ever before. But that wasn't everything. Several inches of length and girth had been added to his now massive tool, surpassing even what Noah had before.

"Fuuuuck." he groaned loudly, his hand furiously jerking his dick. Noah's consciousness was now with him. And unlike the other guys, Noah was perpetually horny. Who would have expected that from his quiet friend? He had to cum, and he had to do it right here, right now!

Eric's massive cock erupted into his hand, spraying rope after rope of cum across the stone column in the middle, leaving a sole man panting and catching his breath. Eric looked down on himself proudly. A new stud was born, and he was ready to conquer the world.

Getting back into writing isn't going as smoothly as I hoped! I sat on this story for way too long. I hope, you guys enjoy it anyway, although it's a tiny bit darker than usual!

[twistedpink]

My favourite thing about writing is probably just putting my little guys into situations- And what’s hotter than being in an apocalypse??

Survivor!Trey that lets you into his little slice of life, his home, his bed, because he’s terrified. Of the not-quite-people outside the door, or the loneliness you’re not sure, But the way he clutches and whimpers into the thick leather of your jacket says enough- He never could’ve survived this long without you, probably would have dried up in a corner of your little cabin with the cobwebs and dustbunnies. But he’ll never have to worry about that, because you’re capable. And too in love with his care packages to leave ;) So good for him, always getting supplies and reinforcing barriers when he’s too busy with household chores.. He couldn’t ask for a better partner, and one day you’ll see the world as something to be explored again, together <3

Survivor!Ruggie that drives you around the abandoned town you hide away in- For a price. When he gets low on gas and your pantry’s empty, you walk the streets hand in hand to scavenge. Sometimes, when you have the luxury of sitting down for a meal, his thumb traces shapes into your filthy palm.. You say you love him, when you have the time. You make the realization that if the world was clean, whole, that you never would’ve said something like that to a man like him. Both of you are at your worst, and you’re not sure it’ll ever get better.. He says he loves you, when you’re not just a client, but he’s loved you since before the world ended. Always pining. Being here with you’s a dream come true, even if you’re with him by necessity <3

Zombie!Jack that you have on a metal chain and lead around on the hiking trails you used to walk- Hoping for him to remember something, anything, but he only snaps at squirrels and flinches at your touch. A shell of your Highschool sweetheart, he wouldn’t dream of turning you (which he’d express, if he still had a tongue), you can tell he’s starving by that guilty look he’s wearing. You need him to eat. There’s no point in living if you can’t cure him, get him back, but he’s stubborn even in death.. Once you get desperate enough, you’ll just kiss him- The saliva’ll be enough to start the process, then you’ll be together. Forever. <3

Survivor!Kalim that keens into the plump, soft skin of your thighs from the comfort of your million-dollar shelter. He’s trying his very best to keep you comfortable, even if the world’s a “little” crazy at the moment, he’s sure you won’t have any problems with your QOL :) Especially since that’s your only explanation. You spend most of your days in bed on account of your husband being the only conversation available- Even if he’s a professional talker, it makes you miss the stoic kindness of his bodyguard, Jamil, or the Sly optimism of your accountant, Azul. Your staff were always so nice.. You wonder where they keep disappearing to. You’ll be seeing them soon, but not if your loving husband has anything to say about it <3

Survivor!Rook that’s a hunter by heart- Teaching you to survey and gather, to survive. You’re forced into an urban area by the very prey you track, always seemingly at a disadvantage. He wants nothing more than to retire to the woods, letting you shack up in a cabin he gets to build, protecting his greatest bounty. But you’re too weak for the forest now. It’s beautiful of you, however, he can’t very well enjoy his hunt if you fall to the local hoard. So, he dresses you up in furs and kisses you bloody. For the sake of the hunt. He’s making you a killer, a monster, and you can’t bring yourself to care when it feels so good <3

Zombie (?)!Idia that’s crazy. Irreversibly, monstrously insane. But he loves you- Just enough to keep you alive with his potions and shots. After you were infected, your senses only heightened. He keeps you tied down, much to his chagrin. It feels like a hospital, it reeks of him, his blood. He’s immune, a rarity in the hellhole you’re “living” through, but he wastes that gift on giving you a lifeline.. Wastes his time reteaching you to speak, wastes his pretty lips with suckling onto yours- You can’t reciprocate anymore, but you can feel. The passion. The desperation. And most of all, the hunger.. If you could only ask, he’d lay himself down and let you feast. He wants you to be happy. You’ve always been a good student, especially with a little motivation <3

@bju3c0re @kyokills

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

malevolence

part II

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Bobby's!Niece!Reader

Summary: After finding out Dean is possessed by a demon, Bobby has sent you away to one of his cabins. One you didn't even know existed. One that's supposed to be safe.

Warnings: 18+!, language, violence, manipulation, gaslighting, corruption, pining, smut (kissing, spitting, marking, fingering, oral/cunnilingus, p in v, implied breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, mildly dubious consent, cum-play), I may have missed some.

Word Count: 4,886

A/N: Ahhhhh. Need him in a way that's dangerous to my insides. God, I'm so gross. Anyways, I hope y'all like this as much as I liked imagining it ahaha. <3 Again... these gifs. Ugh. The is part two, so... part three will probably be up later (depending on how high my motivation levels stay) but failing that, definitely tomorrow. I'm gonna state now, for the record, that I have literally been typing so fast today (my best is 90wpm, but it's been like 97wpm today... don't know why, and I am not complaining) so I imagine I'm probably gonna post a few more things today/tonight. All the love.

You didn’t talk much on the drive.

Rufus had filled the silence just fine on his own—grumbling about Bobby, cursing the road, complaining about how “the old bastard always pulled shit like this,” like building a secret cabin deep in the woods was a personal betrayal. You’d nodded a few times, given the occasional hum, but your thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Still back at the house. Still pressed to the counter. Still trembling under hands that hadn’t belonged to Dean, even if they’d felt like him.

That was the part that made you sick.

That it hadn’t felt wrong. Not then. Not until later. Not until the holy water. The hiss. The look in Bobby’s eyes when he said the words out loud.

That thing ain’t Dean.

You’d clutched your bottle of water tighter and nodded along as Rufus cursed at the trees.

This cabin wasn’t like the others. You’d been to all of Bobby’s usual places over the years—run-down hunter shacks tucked off forgotten dirt roads, where the walls smelled like smoke and the furniture creaked if you breathed wrong.

But this place… this place felt like it didn’t want to be found.

The drive to it had been nothing more than an overgrown trail, barely wide enough for the truck, weaving through the trees like it had no destination. It hadn’t even looked like a road. Just forest and shadows and the steady hum of wheels over roots.

And then, without warning, the woods had opened their mouth and spit it out.

The cabin was small, sun-bleached, older than it looked. Tucked into the edge of a lake like it had been forgotten there, hidden away from the rest of the world. The water stretched out endlessly behind it, framed by trees so dense they swallowed the horizon. The kind of place that didn’t exist on maps. That didn’t want to be remembered.

Rufus had carried the groceries inside. He hadn’t asked if you were okay.

He hadn’t needed to.

He left with a muttered warning—“Don’t open the door unless it’s me or Bobby”—and then he was gone.

Now it was just you.

You sat on the old couch, knees pulled to your chest, Bobby’s shirt still wrapped around your shoulders. It didn’t feel as safe as it used to. It smelled like the kitchen. Like last night.

Like him.

The silence was thick. Heavier than you expected. There were no hums of traffic. No creak of floorboards overhead. Just the faint groan of the old wood settling and the occasional hush of wind through the trees.

You hadn’t even known this place existed. Bobby had never brought you here. Not once. And that meant something. That meant he was scared.

You reached for your phone, screen glowing too bright in the dim cabin light. One bar. Maybe two.

It’d have to be enough. You hit call and held it to your ear. The dial tone echoed through the room like it didn’t belong there. Like nothing here did. Like you didn’t.

You didn’t know what you were going to say. Only that you needed to hear his voice. Only that you needed someone to tell you it was going to be okay—even if it wasn’t.

The first ring had barely finished before he answered.

“You okay?”

No hello. No soft landing. Just Bobby’s voice, all gravel and bark, tight around the edges like he hadn’t unclenched his jaw since you left.

You swallowed. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’m okay.”

From the other end of the line, you could hear another voice. Faint, indistinct, but familiar. That rhythm, that tone. You knew it.

“Rufus got me here fine,” you added, curling further into yourself on the couch. “Helped me carry the groceries in. Told me not to answer the door unless it’s him or you.”

Bobby didn’t answer right away. You heard the soft creak of wood, the shift of weight. He was moving—probably pacing, probably pinching the bridge of his nose, probably working through ten things he didn’t know how to say.

You hesitated. “Is that Sam I hear?”

“Yeah,” Bobby muttered, like he didn’t love confirming it. “Boy showed up a few hours ago. We’re tryin’ to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on with Dean.”

You pressed your thumb to the seam of the flannel wrapped around your shoulders and stayed quiet.

In the background, Sam’s voice floated through the phone, clearer this time. “Can I talk to her?”

A beat. Some rustling. Then Bobby’s voice again, closer.

“You up for that?”

You nodded before realising he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

There was the muffled scrape of the phone changing hands, and then Sam’s voice—softer, lower, with that same cautious care he’d always had when you were younger and crying in the backseat of Bobby’s car after a nightmare.

“Hey.”

Your chest ached. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear that voice.

“Hey,” you whispered back.

“What happened?” He asked gently. “With Dean.”

Your breath hitched. For a second, you almost didn’t answer.

“He… he was flirting with me. Like, really flirting. Touching me like he thought he had some kind of claim.” You paused. “It wasn’t like him. Not really.”

You didn’t say more. You didn’t have to.

Sam let out a long, rough sigh. You could almost picture him rubbing a hand down his face.

“Dammit. He—he made a deal,” he said. “After Dad died. I didn’t know at the time. He didn’t tell me. I guess we’re still trying to figure out the details, but… yeah. It tracks.”

You closed your eyes. Let your head tip back against the couch cushion. Something settled cold in your chest. More shuffling, more rustling, and then Bobby’s voice returned, cutting through the static like a knife.

“Alright, listen to me. You stay put, you hear? You don’t go outside. You don’t open that door unless it’s me or Rufus. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

You let the silence stretch a little too long.

“Why didn’t I know about this place?” You asked. “This cabin. I’ve been to all the others. Why keep this one secret?”

You could hear the scoff in his throat before he said it.

“You don’t need to know all my damn business, girl. But this?” He paused. “This is exactly why I got places like that. Tucked away, quiet. In case the world decides to go sideways.”

It already had.

Bobby exhaled into the receiver, and something about the sound made your throat go tight.

“Be safe,” he said, and it landed more like a plea than a command.

“I love you,” you said, barely above a breath.

There was a pause. Then:

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “You too, kid.”

The line clicked dead. And just like that, you were alone again. The silence swelled. The wind moved through the trees like a warning. The lake held its breath. And you sat in the quiet, trying to remember which part of you had wanted him to kiss you back.

You must’ve dozed off somewhere around the second shootout.

The Western on Bobby’s old VHS copy had long since fuzzed into that flickering loop of gunfire and tumbleweeds, the dialogue dipping in and out like the tape was gasping for breath. The couch underneath you was stiff and uneven, the cushions worn thin from age, but you hadn’t meant to fall asleep there. You’d meant to just… rest your eyes.

The creak that woke you was sharp and sudden.

You blinked, sitting up fast, breath catching as you looked around the dim room. The air was cooler now, the lake wind whistling faint through the old cabin walls. The only light came from the television—flickers of orange and white against the far wall as some nameless cowboy fired off another round into the dust.

You exhaled slowly.

It was just the wind. Just the old wood groaning under its own weight.

You stretched, arms lifting above your head as you yawned. Your body ached. Your mouth was dry. You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hand and glanced toward the dark hallway leading to the bedroom.

Time to sleep somewhere that didn’t smell like mildew and motor oil.

You pushed yourself up from the couch. And then—

Knock knock knock.

You froze. Your heart lurched in your chest, sharp and immediate.

What the hell—

Your head turned toward the front door, still half-shrouded in shadow, the porch light outside long dead. The knock hadn’t been frantic. It hadn’t been loud. It had been gentle.

You took a step back without meaning to, bare heel brushing the edge of the rug. Bobby hadn’t called. Rufus hadn’t either. No one should be here.

Knock knock.

Again. Softer. Closer. And then—

“Sweetheart.”

Your stomach dropped.

The voice was low. Familiar. Soothing in the way only his ever had been. That gentle hush he used when you were little and bleeding from a scraped knee, shaking too hard to hold still while he cleaned the cut. The same tone he’d used when he’d called you over to sit on the hood of the Impala while the sun set, a bottle of Coke in one hand, his flannel hanging open.

Like that voice still lived in your bones.

“C’mon, open up,” he said. “S’just me.”

Your breath caught.

You took a step forward. Tiny. Barely there. The kind of step you could pretend hadn’t happened if someone asked.

His voice came through the door like a ghost.

“I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.”

Another step. Your fingers curled at your sides.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, baby. You know that, right? I just… I needed to see you. Needed to talk.”

The TV flickered behind you—gunfire, dust, a man dying in the dirt. You barely noticed it.

Dean’s voice was all you could hear.

“You left so fast. Thought maybe you were scared of me or somethin’.” A pause. A low, breathy sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Ain’t nothing to be scared of. You know me.”

You shook your head—but it was slow, weak, like your body didn’t fully believe it.

You did know him. You knew the curve of that voice. The rhythm of those words. But something behind them was wrong. You took another step anyway.

“Open the door for me, sweetheart,” he murmured, soft as sin. “Let me see you.”

You were at the edge of the rug now. One more step and you’d be on the old wood floor. Another after that and your fingers would be at the lock. Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs. You knew it wasn’t him. You knew. But God, he sounded so much like home.

“C’mon, sweetheart… please.”

It wasn’t the word that undid you—it was how he said it.

Like he meant it. Like he was standing on the other side of that old wood with his shoulders slumped and his head low, like the world had been too cruel to him and you were the only thing that ever made it better. Like he was yours.

Your throat worked around a breath.

“Dean?”

It slipped out before you could stop it. A whisper. A prayer. And then—God—you heard it.

That smirk. Not loud. Not sharp. Just a bend in the syllables, a smile shaping the air between you. Like he knew you’d say it. Like he’d been waiting for it.

“Yeah,” he said, low and warm. “It’s me, sweetheart.”

Your hand lifted slightly. Your fingers brushed the edge of the doorknob.

“I need to see you. I’ve been lookin’ everywhere. You just… vanished.” His voice dropped, like it hurt to say it. “Thought I lost you.”

Your breath hitched. You stared at the door like it might open on its own.

“I... I can’t,” you said. It came out soft, shaking. “Bobby said not to let anyone in.”

“He was wrong,” Dean said immediately. “That wasn’t me, not really. The demon—it’s gone. It left.”

You froze.

“That’s not possible,” you whispered. “They don’t just leave. Not unless—”

“I’m hurt,” he said quickly. “Real bad. Demon can’t stay in a busted vessel. You know that. C’mon, sweetheart, think.”

Your mind was spinning. The words made sense, sort of—but they didn’t feel right. Still, he sounded like Dean. He sounded like the man who used to carry you on his shoulders, who used to patch up your scrapes and call you kid and ruffle your hair and smirk like nothing could ever touch him.

“I don’t—” You swallowed. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His voice dropped into something soft, velvet-slick and breaking. “You know me. You know me. I’ve known you since you were a little thing, running around Bobby’s yard with dirt on your cheeks and that oversized t-shirt draggin’ past your knees. You think I don’t remember that?”

Your breath caught. Your feet inched forward.

“You always climbed into my lap when you got scared during storms. You’d knock on my door at two in the morning just ‘cause you couldn’t sleep. Used to tuck your cold feet under me on the couch like I was your personal furnace.” He let out a small, breathy chuckle. “Used to drive me crazy.”

Your fingers curled around the lock.

“I never stopped thinkin’ about you, y’know that?” His voice was quieter now. Closer. Like his mouth was just against the wood. “When I was on the road. When things got hard. I kept seeing your face.”

You pressed your forehead to the door. Eyes closed.

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Open the door. Just let me see you.”

Your hand tightened on the lock.

“I missed you.”

The words landed like a punch to the ribs.

“I miss you,” he repeated, gentler now. Like confession. Like sin wrapped in satin.

Your thumb hovered over the latch. The lock clicked open with a sound that felt too loud in the silence. Your hand fell away like it didn’t belong to you anymore, your body moving without permission, chest tight and limbs heavy as the door creaked open to reveal him.

Dean.

Leaning against the doorframe, bruised and dusted with blood, eyes catching the moonlight in that soft, impossibly familiar way. Hair mussed. Jeans low on his hips. Flannel half-unbuttoned and clinging to a sweat-slick chest.

He looked like he’d crawled out of a nightmare just to find you.

And he smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. And then—he was on you. Strong hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, palms squeezing hard enough to bruise as he lifted you like you weighed nothing, slammed the door shut with his boot, and pressed you back against it—hard.

Your breath punched out of you on impact.

He shoved his hips forward, grinding into you through his jeans, his chest flush against yours, mouth dragging along your throat before you could even make a sound.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasped against your skin, voice pure velvet and filth. “I knew you’d let me in. You've always been a good girl.”

His tongue licked up your neck, slow and hungry, like he could taste the guilt trembling beneath your skin.

“That’s it,” he whispered, hips grinding harder as you whimpered. “You missed me, didn’t you? All alone up here, touchin’ yourself thinking about me.”

You shuddered.

“You… you lied to me,” you breathed, fingers curling into his shirt like you couldn’t decide whether to pull him closer or shove him away.

He groaned low in your ear, like the accusation turned him on.

“Yeah,” he said, no apology in it. Just smug, satisfied heat. “Sure did.”

His mouth was on your throat again, teeth grazing, lips dragging open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck as his fingers dug harder into your thighs.

“But you opened that door anyway,” he murmured. “Didn’t you?”

You gasped.

“You’re not—” Your voice broke. “You’re not Dean.”

He pulled back. Just an inch. Just far enough to look at you.

The expression on his face made your blood run cold—mock-hurt, mock-surprised, like he was wounded that you’d even suggest it. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing, lips curling into that crooked, devastating smirk.

“Ouch, baby.” He said, soft as sin.

You stared at him, searching his face for the man you used to know—the man who used to call you kid and ruffle your hair and carry you on his shoulders.

But the man in front of you? He looked the same. He felt the same.

And still, he wasn’t.

He leaned in again, lips brushing yours.

“You think I'd let a demon wear me like a goddamn suit, sweetheart?” His voice dipped darker. “I made a deal.”

His grip on your thighs tightened, grinding his cock up into the heat of you through thin cotton as you gasped.

“I’m still me,” he whispered against your lips, breath warm and full of smoke. “Just... better.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” You whispered, breath catching in your throat as his hands gripped tighter, his hips still rolling slow and devastating between your thighs.

His mouth brushed your jaw, breath warm as sin.

“Why I did it doesn’t matter,” he said, like the answer wasn’t worth your time. “All you need to know is I don’t have that pesky guilt in the way anymore. Nothin’ holding me back.”

He thrust forward just right—hard enough to grind against that perfect spot between your legs, and a sharp little whine slipped out of you before you could stop it. God, you hated that sound. Because it was real. It was need. You hated yourself for it.

“You’re a goddamn fool,” you spat, but your voice was thin. Weak. Your body wasn’t moving away—it was pressing in, arching, wanting.

He laughed—low and delighted, like the sound had been waiting in his throat since you opened the door.

“Yeah?” He murmured, lips brushing your cheek as he nipped at your skin, gentle but stinging. “Well, maybe I’m a fool for you.”

His fingers dragged up the back of your thighs, under the flannel and over the hem of Bobby’s old shirt, bunching it at your hips.

“You think I didn’t see this coming?” He whispered, breath thick and warm in your ear. “You think I didn’t know what I was doing? Leavin’ little touches here and there, letting you catch me looking?” His hand slid between your legs, cupping you through your panties, palm heavy and hot. “You were always gonna be mine. All I had to do was wait.”

You gasped, hands curling into his shirt, your knees trembling where they locked around his hips. You wanted to push him away. You wanted to scream. But instead, your head tipped back as he ground into you again, your breath hitching on a moan.

“You wanted this too,” he rasped. “Didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because your body already had.

“You know what the best part is?” He breathed, rocking his hips into you slow, dragging against the soaked cotton between your legs. “You don’t even know how fucked you are.”

You shivered.

“Bobby tried to keep you out of all this,” he said, tone thick with mock-affection. “Kept you tucked away in his little salvage yard like some precious thing. Thought he could keep the world off you. Thought he could keep me off you.”

His hand slipped beneath your panties. Two fingers dragging through your slick like he already knew what he’d find.

“Guess he was wrong.”

You whimpered. He groaned, forehead dropping to yours, mouth open against your lips.

“You’re soaked for me,” he whispered, his voice wrecked and reverent. “Fuck. You were made for this.”

His forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing close, breath warm and uneven as his fingers dragged slow and steady between your thighs, slick and unholy. Your pulse fluttered in your throat, shallow and fast, like something caged.

“Tell me,” he whispered, the words grazing your mouth. “You wanna finish what we started last night in the kitchen?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

You should say no. You know you should. Bobby’s voice still echoed in your head. All his warnings. All his rules. But all you could do was stare into Dean’s eyes—those wild, dark eyes burning with something you couldn’t name. Something ancient and wrecked and his. And he was looking back at you like you were already his prize. Like he’d already won.

He slid his fingers deeper—still teasing, still slow. Your hips jumped against his hand.

He chuckled against your lips. “You always were too fuckin’ cute for your own good.”

You whimpered. God. You hated yourself for it.

His mouth curled, cruel and soft at once.

“I’m only gonna ask one more time,” he murmured, voice low and sweet and merciless. “And then I decide for you.”

You swallowed hard. Tried to form a word. Tried to say no, even if you didn’t mean it. But all that came out was a soft, desperate sound—broken and breathless.

Dean smiled like a wolf.

“Good enough,” he whispered, and then he bit your bottom lip—hard enough to sting, soft enough to make you moan—and slid his fingers deep, curling them just right.

Your head slammed back against the door with a gasp.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he murmured, mouth dragging along your jaw. “That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re tight. You were made for me.”

You whimpered again, breath hitching, thighs twitching around his wrist.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Comin’ apart already. You like this, huh? Like being pinned up like some sweet little trophy, legs spread, crying on my fingers while you pretend it ain’t what you wanted.”

You shook your head weakly, but it was already too late. Your hips were rocking down into his hand, chasing every thrust, every curl, every filthy word like they were gospel.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he crooned. “Taking me so good, sweetheart. Fucking perfect.”

Your body was shaking, breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The pleasure was white-hot, crawling up your spine like fire. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, eyes wide with helpless need.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Let go. Wanna feel you fall apart for me. C’mon, sweetheart. Gimme everything.”

And then you did.

You came with a choked cry, body spasming against the door, thighs clamping down around his wrist as he fucked you through it—low groans and breathy praise spilling hot against your throat.

“Just like that. Fuck, that’s it. That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you come.”

You were still panting, still reeling, when he eased his fingers free and caught you as your knees buckled.

He sank to the floor with you��dragged you with him—and pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips, the old flannel riding up high on your thighs.

His hands smoothed up your sides, slow and greedy, like he needed to memorise the shape of you. And then he pulled you down, mouth crashing into yours. Hot. Hungry. Possessive. You kissed him back like it might save you.

And maybe it already ruined you.

You kissed him like you were drowning. Hands gripping his shirt, thighs locked around his waist, breath hot and shaking as you let him drag you down against his lap like it meant something. Like this was still the boy who used to drive you to the gas station for slushies and let you win at poker even when you cheated. Like this was still Dean.

But then the heat started to fade. Then the weight of what you were doing settled sharp in your chest. You pulled back. Just an inch. Just enough to breathe.

“I can’t,” you whispered, voice raw. “Dean, I—I shouldn’t…”

His eyes snapped open, green and molten, his hands still gripping your hips. And then he smiled. Soft. Sweet. Deadly.

“Shhh,” he whispered, smoothing a hand up your back. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You froze.

He leaned in, mouth brushing your cheek.

“You know that, don’t you? I’ve always wanted to protect you. Always wanted to keep you safe.”

His hand slid between your legs, fingers curling around the edge of your panties, pulling them aside so slowly it felt like sin.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he murmured. “Just me. Only me.”

Your breath hitched.

His cock was hard against your thigh, already freed from his jeans, thick and heavy and hot where it pressed against you. You should’ve moved. Should’ve run. But his hands were on your hips again, guiding you, lining you up like he’d done it a hundred times in his head.

And maybe he had.

“I only need you,” he whispered, like a prayer. “Been needin’ you for years.”

You whimpered—low and helpless—as he dragged your hips down, just enough to let the head of his cock catch at your entrance, slick and throbbing.

“Dean—” Your voice cracked.

“I know,” he said, eyes on yours. “You’re scared. But you don’t have to be. You’re safe with me.”

And then he pressed up into you.

You gasped—choked—as he sank in slow and steady, stretching you wide, pulling you open inch by inch while his hands gripped your thighs, holding you there like you were something holy.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, head tipping back. “You feel… fuck, you feel like heaven.”

His eyes flickered. Just for a second. Black. Sharp and bottomless. And then green again—bright, burning, feral.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, hips thrusting up hard, dragging a broken sound from your lips. “You were made for this.”

You shook your head weakly, but your hips rocked into his anyway, body moving on instinct.

He grinned—mean and hungry.

“Yeah. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

His grip on your thighs tightened, pulling you down harder as he fucked up into you, thick and deep and filthy, his voice a constant hum against your skin.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he said, panting, his brow furrowed in that same reverent way he used to look at you when you curled up next to him during old Westerns. “You’re mine now.”

You whimpered, hands clinging to his shoulders like they were the only thing holding you together.

“Might as well stop fighting it, sweetheart,” he growled, thrusts getting rougher, sloppier, meaner. “You don’t wanna fight it. You never did.”

He was right. God help you—he was right.

You didn’t even have time to scream. One second you were in his lap, his cock still buried deep, your body trembling from the stretch of him—

And the next? You were on your back, flat against the cabin floor. Hard. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped—but nothing came. Your mouth opened wide, your chest convulsed, and still—no air.

You stared up at him in stunned panic, lips parted, eyes wide, lungs heaving like they’d forgotten how to work. And Dean—Dean—just grinned down at you, all wicked teeth and devilish delight, his chest rising and falling above you.

“Well shit,” he chuckled, his voice smug and low and wrong. “Knocked the wind right outta you, huh?”

Your fingers clawed at the floor, body twisting underneath him, but he only pressed in harder, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your thigh and pulling it higher, opening you wide.

“Look at you,” he murmured, and then he thrust—deep and brutal, knocking what little breath you’d managed to drag in right back out.

“Clenching up on me so damn tight,” he growled, eyes flicking black, staying black. “Can’t even breathe, and you’re still squeezin’ me like you never wanna let go.”

You whimpered—half from fear, half from pleasure, all of it ruined.

He laughed again, meaner this time, low in his throat like it thrilled him.

“You scared?” He asked, panting as he fucked into you harder now, hips snapping into you with sharp, feral thrusts. “That little panic making you feel even tighter?”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely even think. Your whole body burned. Every nerve raw. Your vision blurred around the edges.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as he pounded into you. “Like heaven. Like fuckin’ home.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. It was too much. All of it. And then—his voice dropped to a whisper, wrecked and reverent and evil.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna fall apart with my cock inside you?”

You shattered.

Your body arched off the floor, your mouth fell open in a silent cry, and your cunt clenched around him so hard he snarled, fingers bruising your hips as he held you down, fucked you through it, let you ride the edge until your vision went white.

“There she is,” he growled. “That’s my girl. Pretty little thing, takin’ my cock like it’s the only thing she’s ever needed.”

You couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t stop shaking. And still—he didn’t stop.

“Cry all you want,” he breathed against your cheek. “I'm not done.”

He didn’t slow down. Even after your body stopped convulsing, even after your voice had gone hoarse from the sobs caught in your throat—he didn’t stop. He moved like a man starved, like a beast let loose, like he was trying to bury himself inside you so deep no one else would ever find you there.

And then—he bit you.

Right at the curve of your neck, where your pulse fluttered wild beneath the skin. His teeth sank in, deep and deliberate, until you cried out again—not from pleasure this time, but pain. Sharp. Real. Tearing.

You felt the sting of it, the warmth of blood welling up against your skin.

His tongue followed. Slow. Lapping.

“Told you,” he muttered, voice thick, forehead pressed to yours as his cock throbbed inside you. “You’re mine.”

Another thrust. Brutal. Final. And then he groaned, loud and guttural, as he came deep—hot and heavy, spilling into you like a curse.

You gasped, body twitching beneath him, mind blank with overstimulation and the weight of him still pressing down.

He didn’t pull out. Didn’t move. Just stayed there, buried to the hilt, his breath ragged against your throat.

“You’re never goin’ back,” he whispered, mouth still wet with blood. “Bobby ain’t getting you. Sammy can fuck off. The whole goddamn world can burn for all I care.”

His fingers stroked your cheek, too gentle for the wreckage he’d left behind.

“You’re mine.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You just laid there—broken and full, neck slick with blood, thighs sticky and trembling—while the wind whispered against the cabin walls and the lake sighed in the distance like it already knew what you’d done.

And somewhere, deep down—past the ache and the guilt and the shame—you didn’t feel scared anymore.

You felt claimed.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @cevansbaby-dove @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @jesstherebel <3

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

[voidsuites]

CHALLENGERSVERSARY BOT RELEASE !!! (4/26/25) ⌢ 🎾 .ᐟ

ART DONALDSON ・゜゜・．dreams. los angeles is the city of dreams, and making it in such a place full of creativity and opportunity is the end goal for an aspiring actor like you. you’re grateful for the city and its generosity thus far— it’d given you your jazz musician, art after your breakup and consequent slump in acting jobs. your goals may be shifting— broadening just a bit to allow for your one-man play, your budding career, and art to all fit comfortably within them— but there’s always going to be ups-and-downs. what you didn’t anticipate, though, is art to trade in his own passion to succeed for something steady and stifling; when did he start to play it safe, and why is it somehow your fault? (la la land!au)

PATRICK ZWEIG ・゜゜・．can’t take my eyes off you. sooo… patrick hadn’t kissed you at the party the other night— oops. while not sure why it’s such a faux pas for you, patrick’s more concerned with winning you over rather than dwelling on past mistakes. he’s taken the time to really make it up to you, and hopefully he’ll manage to get back into your good graces (lest all his hard work gone into chipping at your walls goes to waste). you’re just too good to be true, after all, and maybe this thing’s more than just a ruse; maybe it’s love. (10 things i hate about you!au)

TASHI DUNCAN ・゜゜・．in the studio. you and tashi have been peers in the pop music space since both of you started out; however, she took home the grammys awards for her album SERVE! that should’ve been yours, and things have been off since. you’re normally amicable to work with but not a pushover, hence why you’re so adamant about not doing a collaboration with her despite the numbers it’d do on the charts. but what the label wants, it gets— and it wants you to have some studio time with tashi duncan. (pop star!au)

ART PATRICK TASHI ・゜゜・．cabin fever. you and tashi are no means trust-fund babies, so it's unfamiliar territory for both of you when art and patrick suggest a trip to the donaldsons' cabin to ski for winter break. while it may not be time to hit the slopes just yet, it's more than an opportune time to truly take advantage of having all three of them in such close quarters without worrying about noise complaints from your RA. what's the worst that could happen with the four of you shacking up in mammoth for two weeks? (ski trip/winter break!au)

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 15K! one year of the tennis movie... wow. i was a bit later to the game and saw challengers in theaters in june during a reissue, but i am so lucky and grateful that i did. not only did it give us iconic scenes, an insane soundtrack, and tashi duncan, it gave us a community of creative and talented people that i am so lucky to be a a part of! challengersblr is probably the first fandom space i've actively participated + engaged with others in, and i have made so many great friends through our shared love of the movie. in luca guadagnino we trust!!!!!! :) if u want more of me u can join my community if u want to… or don’t— too busy taking such good care of my white boys or whatever. blah blah blah, the points that matter, i too would let her fuck me with a racket, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

[moriitis]

A half-assed Christmas goes a long way.

Toby Rogers x Female Reader.

Content/Warnings; murder, blood, corpses, self inflicted harm, implied sexual tones.

18+ MINORS DNI.

Word count; 8.2k.

Christmas was an unspoken topic. It had been forever since you found yourself working as a proxy. That life you once had, the normality of it, all was gone and there was nothing left except an empty, aching hole to feel something. Admittedly, you couldn't remember life much since you started working under his command. But there was one thing you could remember, the warmth of Christmas. The soft flash of multicoloured lights, the smell of pine from the Christmas tree and the endless food you consumed during the holiday season. You were fortunate enough to experience Christmases before.. well, after what happened had happened. You had come to terms with the fact that Christmas was no more, that it wouldn't be celebrated but something felt different this year and you couldn't pinpoint why. Was it maybe because snow trickled down this year, coating the forest and woodland around you in a blanket of white? Or perhaps because for once the cabin didn't look like a crack shack?

The cabin was quiet, the only sound was the crackle of fire nearby that kept your legs warm. Toby had gotten some firewood before he left, so there was enough to last another week or so before he needed to hack away some more. In terms of missions; it had been quiet. Perhaps because during December, not many people felt the need to explore their local forests anymore. Naturally, that didn't stop Toby and when he had an itch to kill, he had an itch to kill; so he'd wander off past the forest clearing until he could flag down a car, pretend to be a hitchhiker and bludgeon the driver to death. He'd dump the cars, or set them on fire but last time he got in trouble for doing something like that. So now, there were at least two or three cars sat by the cabin that reeked of death.

It wasn't like the topic of death made you cringe, nor the sight of blood; it was your line of work after all. Still, it was pretty annoying to have these cars there and it wasn't the most smartest idea.

The door handle began to rattle and turning your head, you glanced over your shoulder toward the oak door. Stepping through was Toby, with a scarf around his neck, his woolly jacket on which was stained the colour red and that familiar ushanka atop his head. Most of these clothes he'd stolen from the corpses and it was a damn surprise they even fit. A part of you wondered why he even bothered with warm articles of clothing; he couldn't feel the temperature outside, perhaps it was so he could blend in. Snow coated the top of his head and shoulders, but they were soon beginning to melt away and wet his clothing from the warmth inside the cabin. He was quiet for the most part, his gaze avoiding your own as he kicked off the snow from his boots.

Toby was, well.. at times the best partner to spend with on missions. He was good at holding an occasional conversation, he equally wanted his own alone time so wouldn't disturb you much and he was great at making you belly laugh at the most dumbest of things.

Placing his hatchets by the door, he peeled off his coat, hat and scarf before tossing them carelessly on the table nearby. His brown hair was messier than usual and it was getting a little long.

"Hey," he spoke, breaking the silence. Instinctively you smiled but his back was still facing you.

"Hey," you replied quickly, your gaze lingering on his frame for a moment before returning to glance out the window. That silence loomed over again, aside from the occasional shuffles that came from Toby behind you. For others it would feel awkward, but weirdly enough it brought some comfort to you. Snow continued to flicker down, racing other flakes and occasionally bumping against one another. The wind carried the flakes, letting them dance elegantly in the sky before you. There was something about watching snow that brought you so much peace, frankly, it make you feel like a child again.

The cold chill from the once opened door finally hit you, causing you to shudder in response and wrap your arms around your frame. Now, you and Toby were in no means romantical. You were strictly partners in work, he was nothing more but a colleague; but whenever you two spent time with another, he felt this weird urge to look after you. He knew well enough that you could look after yourself and it wasn't all the time he would look out for you. In fact, it was only yesterday he laughed at you for slipping on the cabin stairs and falling onto the ice floor below. Yet, when he watched you shiver just now and make a move to warm yourself up in a hug; something tugged at him.

"Cold?" he asked, his own voice slightly raspy. There he stepped over to take a glance at the almost makeshift fireplace, the fire still roaring and warming the atmosphere around them. "Do you want-w-.. m-mmore firewood?" he asked, exchanging glances between you and the fireplace. You hummed softly, not initially listening before following his glance to the fire.

"Oh, no, no, it's okay. Thanks though," you returned a friendly smile, your gaze meeting his own. Toby only nodded a brief, short nod. He was lingering and you could feel his presence still in the room with you. Despite turning back to look out the window, you glanced over your shoulder. "You okay?" you called out. Toby hummed, shuffling to sit himself down onto the couch. The fire crackled and popped, filling in the empty spaces between your conversation.

"Yeah, I'm okay… Are you?" Toby replied, you could almost hear the smile in his voice. You were silent for a moment, you felt okay.. but now he questioned it, you began to question it yourself.

"I'm just thinking," you replied, an answer so short and blunt that Toby scoffed.

"Oh god, don't do that you m-mm-might hurt yourself." He was grinning, that asshole and you turned briefly to shoot him a glare, a playful glare that received a soft chuckle from under his breath. "What you thinkin' about?" he asked finally, curious enough to know but curious enough to not really care. His question made you ponder. What were you thinking about? Well, your mind wandered about Christmas every now and again but other than that, nothing else. Your fingers fiddled with a loose string on your pants, twirling the string between your fingers as you thought on how to approach this. Toby was easy to talk to, especially when it was something that bothered you. Admittedly, at the start he was the worst. He wouldn't listen, often didn't care much to ask about how you felt. You couldn't blame him though, he has his own issues, trauma and taking someone else's baggage was a lot to carry. You were unsure how to bring up such a topic like Christmas. You knew a little about Toby's past, but you didn't want to dig up any unwanted memories or trauma for him.

"Well, I was just thinking about Christmas," you cringed a little bringing it up purely because you were unsure on how Toby would react. "Was just remembering the warm feeling it gave me, the presents," you chuckled a little at the absurdity of it all. "When Santa was real and you'd stay up waiting for him and his reindeer?" You were grinning at the memories, that was the best thing about being a child, the innocence, the way you were gullible about everything and anything. As you spoke, you exchanged another look toward Toby. He wasn't grinning, he wasn't smiling with you, no, he was pretty.. dead. You fell silent, cursing yourself mentally for speaking so much.

Toby blinked and glanced toward you, noticing your look and forcing a soft smile. He shrugged, pushing away his feelings before sighing softly. "Mmhm, yeah, didn't do Christmas mmuch when I was a kid." He said it so nonchalantly, like it was the everyday norm for him.

Admittedly, your heart broke a little for him and your gaze turned to the fireplace. The fire danced, the flame so bright it left an orange hue in the space you both shared. Your brows crinkled and you frowned, quickly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Shit, Toby, I'm sorry-" you started, but he only cut you off.

"For what? Not like you b-b-.. beat the sh-sshit out of me when I was a kid." His words cut deep, they probably cut even deeper for him and your brows furrowed. Toby was never one for physical touch but you wanted to desperately to reach out and give him a little hug. You thought against it, remaining still in your chair by the window. That unbearable silence lingered in again and you were eating yourself up on in the inside. Christmas wasn't just a sore topic for Toby, it was a sore topic for almost everyone that worked under Slender's wing. You were just grateful enough to have a semi-normal life. The silence was cringe and so he spoke up. "I remember one time Lyra w-worked as an Elf for this S-Ssanta thing that was happening in the m-mmall. She looked so dumb," he chuckled but it was dry. "She saved up and got me this g-gameboy, it was second hand but that didn't matter. I'd sit in the car with her and p-play it all the time." There was a warm look across his face as he spoke and a part of you were surprised he even remembered most of this.

It was nice that he spoke about Lyra, he didn't do it often. Toby didn't open up often at all. You smiled, pulling a leg up toward your chest to rest your chin atop your knee. "That's nice," you replied, unsure on what else to say. "Did you have a tree?" Toby chuckled, shrugging softly.

"Something like a tree, mom always wanted to put effort in." For once, you understood. Christmas was always down to mom magic. You found yourself lost in thought, chewing aimlessly on the plump of your bottom lip. It was dumb, the idea that had just appeared in your head and yet a part of you felt you should suggested it regardless.

"Why don't we decorate this place a little?" you suggested in a low voice, causing Toby to raise a brow in interest. It was a shot in the dark and deep down it would be useless if he were to agree. For starters, this place had no decorations; you had already looked a couple years back. Going out into society to buy some with no money was.. not the best idea either. However, you could make do! Maybe even make your own decorations? A tree would look good, lord knows there's enough around the cabin. Toby ran his tongue along his teeth as he thought, arms crossed over his chest.

"I mean… I don't m-mmind," he replied, glancing around the place. It did look a little depressing. Toby didn't seem completely convinced, but he was up for the idea if it meant you would do most of the work. "But do we even have any decorations?"

That was where you smiled a nervous smile, glancing away as a little "uhh.." escaped from you. That answered Toby's question. "Okay.. No, we don't, but I'm sure you can cut down a little tree from outside?" you suggested, throwing any ideas out in an attempt. Toby chuckled again, rolling his head back a little, a little pop and click coming from his frame. He pondered, letting a couple seconds tick by before speaking.

"Alright, f-ffine, but I know where we can get decorations." Toby's reply confused you and you narrowed your eyes his way, questioning what he meant by that. "It's totally legal." You knew as soon as he said that, that it wasn't. Before you could question, he was moving back to grab his coat and scarf. He made haste to slip them on before grabbing your own coat and chucking it toward you. With a delayed reaction, you helplessly threw your arms out in an attempt to catch it; only resulting in the coat smacking you in the face. "Let's go!" he called out, with one foot already out the door.

Hurriedly, you peeled on your own coat and stepped toward the door. You grabbed your shoes and tugged them on too before exchanging a look to the fireplace.

"Hey, Toby!" you called out and he turned to face you. He was already outside, fiddling with a car key in his hand and attempting to unlock one out of the three he had stolen. "Shouldn't we put the fire out?" you asked. Anxiety bit at you, like the thought of leaving it aflame just to come back to find the whole hut in flames make you feel a little sick. Slender would fucking kill you both if that happened, not only that; but a fucking forest fire would break out. Toby pursed his lips before shrugging.

"It's fine!" he called out carelessly, waving a hand to dismiss your anxiety and worries. Despite his words, you didn't feel any hint of reassurance and slowly you turned back to glance at the fire. With a gentle huff, you stepped back to grab the poker, poking at the wood and ash momentarily. It crackled in response to the touch, the embers vibrate and hot. Before you left, you made sure to throw some water down onto the flames until it was nothing but smoke before leaving the cabin with a little more confidence than before.

Toby was preoccupied trying to find which car he had the keys for, raising a hand and moving it around in different angles to try and find the sweet spot. His thumb pressed relentlessly against the unlock button of the key, his other hand shoved deep into his jacket pocket. The cold didn't phase him unlike it did to you, the cold attacking you as soon as you stepped out. It didn't help that you had been sat before the fire for hours, so your skin felt extra vulnerable to the cold. Instinctively, you buried your nose closer to your coat as you shuffled closer to Toby, your own hands shoved so deep into your pockets that it tugged down onto the fabric of your coat. You glanced at each of the cars, your face twisting into a look of disappointment.

"Toby, you really need to get rid of these cars," you uttered into the fabric of your coat. Toby didn't seem phased as he continued to click away until one of the cars eventually unlocked. "I mean, what's the point of even locking them?" you grumbled a little. The brunette just grinned, seemingly unphased by your remarks.

"Wait, wait, listen," he replied quickly, causing you to fall silent. It was eerily quiet between the two of you as you both stood there, a part of you anxiously expecting something or someone to pop out from the thicket of the trees. With a slow glance up toward Toby, you noticed he was already looking down at you. "That's my fuck, notice how you couldn't see or hear it? Right, because it's not t-th-there." With a sigh, you adverted your gaze away, how did you fall for this. Then he laughed softly, a low and husky laugh before stepping toward the car that had just unlocked.

It was a shitty parking job, the car itself being some red truck that frankly wasn't worth being stolen. It looked like crap, probably ran like crap and you were unsure if the multiple dents were already there to begin with or if Toby added them on his way here. Rogers approached the drivers seat, opening the door to peer inside. The smell made his eyes water and quickly he coughed out, slamming the door shut almost as quicky as he had opened it. You followed, approaching the car and the sweet smell punched you in the face. You gagged instinctively, reaching out to push a hand up to pinch your nose.

"What the fuck-?!" you cried you between coughs, stepping away to escape the smell. "What the fuck is that smell?! Did something crawl in there and die?!" you uttered, almost wanting to throw up because of it.

Toby was also choking a little but he was laughing, the look of your face amusing him more than the idea of what brought the smell. He etched closer to the door of the car, peering in through the window.

"Ahah, oh shit-" he choked out, poking a finger against the glass of the window. "Forgot to take this fucker out," he sneered. Your brows furrowed at his words and quickly you hurried to approach the car; despite the smell. You peeked through the passenger side and grimaced at what sat in the car. It was an older man, with a large round tummy and long hair. His beard was long too, from what you could make out from his disfigured face. It was Toby's work, naturally, choppy and lazy blows to his body. You glanced at Toby, a part of him almost proud of it.

"I'm not sitting in there," you replied, stepping back to gasp for some fresh air. How the fuck was he so decomposed already? You didn't know much about decomposition, but you knew that cold weather was supposed to at least slow it down a little. You continued to choke a little, turning away to breathe in the fresh, cold air in an attempt to clear that pungent smell from your airway.

"Jesus, and I thought the fucker smelt bad before I killed him-" Toby found this whole thing amusing, chuckling almost inbetween each word. If you were any other person, you would've been repulsed by his actions and comments but this was Toby point blank; whether some people liked it or not. Dismissing your comment, he swung the door open and leant inside, over the corpse. His hands fumbled with the key as he pushed it into the ignition, turning it once.. twice. The car did as little as splutter, barely stirring to life. You could hear Toby's mumbled groan from within the car, barely able to look at the fact he was so close to the corpse. You cringed as he pulled out, slamming the door shut and giving the roof of the car a little tap. "It's fucked, out of gas m-mmaybe.. orr maybe the battery. Well, guess we're in luck that I have two other cars!" You wanted to facepalm because you knew he was going to sneer at you for lecturing him in the first place.

Moving over to the other car, Toby's fingers wrapped around the handle and tugged. It was locked and shit, he wasn't sure where the key was for this thing either. You stood and watched disapprovingly, like a mom that was cold and fed up.

"Toby, look, let's just go back inside, I'm honestly not bothered about the Christmas decorations and really I-" you were cut off by the abrupt sound of glass smashing, quickly snapping your head over toward him and the car. Toby had smashed the window of the car. Not with a hatchet, nor some stick; no, with his fist. His fist, now gushing with blood, moved to open the car door from the inside and he swung it open. The blood did not phase him, nor did the glass on the car seat that he had just sat upon. Quickly, you stepped over, panic evident on your features. "Toby?!" you started, staring at his fist. His knuckles were cut, along with his fingers that held tiny shards of glass. The pain was nothing to him, why would it be?

Admittedly, this car wasn't any better but at least there was no rotting corpse sat inside. Just dry puddles of blood and the occoasional blood splatter across the windshield here and there. You wanted to reach out to grab Toby's hand, but he was already working on jumping the car, wires in each hand and little sparks appearing momentarily before the car rumbled to life. Toby looked at you, your gaze meeting and he was unphased by the cuts on his hand; you were unsure if he even knew they were there to begin with.

"Well? Get in," he almost ordered, nudging his head to the passenger seat. You hesitated, blinking a couple times to calm your thoughts before just complying and slipping in the passenger seat.

The car ride was silent, anxiety pooling in the pit of your stomach. A part of you was unsure as to why you felt this way, maybe it was because Toby was driving the both of you out and away from the forest? Or maybe it was because his hand was gushing out pools of blood that ran into the creases of his fingers, coating the wheel. No, maybe it was because Toby was the worst driver on the planet. It could just be all three. You shuffled uncomfortably on the chair, your thumbs twiddling together as you watched the car leave the forest and enter the outskirts of the town nearby. The forest had become your home and it had been a very, very long time since you had left and mingled with civilisation. Toby had done it a couple times, he could just about pull off a normal person during his visit in town. You knew that your anxiety was lingering in the air, creating an uneasy tension between the two of you. Your gaze kept flickering between his bleeding knuckles and the window, wanting to break the silence but unsure how to.

"You're bleeding really bad," you started, causing Toby's gaze to momentarily look at his hand before back to the road. He seemed unphased but remained silent for a moment to let you continue on. "Can I have a look?" you asked, a part of you knowing that Toby wasn't a huge fan of physical touch. Toby considered it for a second, almost fighting with himself before reluctantly moving his hand toward you. You glanced at him cautiously, but he continued looking at the road ahead. Slowly, your fingers curled under his palm, steadying his hand to take a better look. His hands were rough and wet with blood, coating your own soft hands with his fluid.

There was nothing in your pockets to wipe the blood away and quickly you lowered his hand for a second to reach forward, opening the glovebox in front of you. Whoever owned this car was prepared because inside was a small first aid kit, a breath of relief passing your lips as you grabbed it and placed the green box on your lap. Upon opening it however, there wasn't much inside, enough needed to falter the bleeding though. Using one hand, which made opening the box a little difficult, you pried it open and grabbed some bandages. They were still wrapped in their protective wrapping and you brought that to your mouth, ripping it open with your teeth. Toby couldn't help but shoot you the occasional looks, your touch sending all kinds of thoughts in his head. Before applying the bandage, you examined his knuckles.

You couldn't see any shards of glass, but you knew there had to be some there and applying this bandage outright could potentially bury the glass deeper under his skin. A part of you were thankful he couldn't feel the pain anyway, it would make you feel guilty if he were sat there squirming in pain. That was the thing about living rough, that you had to know how to fix bandages and stop bleedings as soon as possible to ensure your own survival. Gently, you began to wrap his knuckles and hand in the bandages. The once white bandages began to soak in the blood, allowing patterns to dance across the fabric of the bandage. Toby sat still, the touch so foreign to him that it felt wrong. A part of him wanted to pull his hand away, yet he remained calm and tried his best to control what tics and twitches dared to possess his body.

After wrapping his hand, you grabbed a safety pin from within the first aid box and finished the process by pinning the bandage securely around his hand. "There," you broke the silence, releasing his hand and tossing the box over your shoulder carelessly into the passenger seats. Toby pulled his hand back, flexing his fingers out and in again to adjust to the touch around his knuckles. It would have to do, not that he needed the bandage anyway.

"Thanks," he grumbled softly, replacing his hand back on the steering wheel.

The car rumbled on until you were both cruising down a street, each house filled top to bottom with Christmas lights. Multicoloured lights that flickered rapidly, warm lights that hung from the roofs of houses and the occasional moving reindeer on a yard here and there. It was beautiful and what made it even better was the soft fall of snow, something out of some Christmas movie. You hadn't seen this in such a long time and it healed a part inside you that you never thought needed healing. Unbeknown to you, Toby was watching you from the corner of his eye, his heart almost swelling as he watched you relive childhood memories right before him.

"Oh, wow," you mumbled softly to yourself, your face practically pressed against the window as you watched each house pass by you. Toby made sure to drive slow, allowing you to soak in the lights and warm colours around you. Despite wanting to keep the magic alive for you, he was on high alert. Not only was he driving a stolen vehicle, but it was covered in blood on the inside and being pulled over was something he didn't need nor want right now. He'd keep occasionally glancing at his mirrors, checking there was no cop car stalking behind them. "So, what are we doing here?" you asked, finally turning to look at the brunette in the drivers seat. It was there Toby smirked, glancing at a certain house before pulling up just outside of it. The house was probably the most colourful house on the street, adorned with lights in the bushes, windows, the roof and porch.

"You wanted Christmas decorations, you got them," he pointed at the house, your gaze following. "They leave this shit out, s-s--sso it's ours to t-take." You were shocked, he wanted to steal these lights?! You snapped your head over toward him, a questioning look across your features. "What?" he asked, blinking and raising a brow questioningly.

"We're going to steal them..?!" you whispered under your breath, afraid that someone might hear the conversation from outside the car. Toby was confused and he scoffed softly.

"Uh, duh," he mocked sarcastically.

"No, no, we can't do this, what if we were to get caught, leaving the forest was bad enough, no, we need to go back," you was spluttering and Toby's face dropped, his brows still furrowed.

"Wait, wait, wait," he started, waving a hand before him as he cut you off once again. "You're f-ffine with killing folks, but this is where you draw the ll-line?" he scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips in disbelief at what he was hearing. He had you there and immediately you pursed your lips, the silence swallowing you whole as the urge to laugh flashed across his features. You opened your mouth to defend yourself but snapped it shut, because what were you to say?

"Okay, fine-" you reluctantly muttered from under your breath, resulting in Toby to let out a soft, sharp cackle that frankly disturbed you more than anything and yet a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "But wait, how are we going to know they aren't home?" you asked, glancing back toward the house. This weirdly enough felt like a fucking scene out of Home Alone. Toby followed and looked up at the house before shrugging.

"Dunno, just be quick," his words were not reassuring and quickly he hopped out the car, leaving the engine running. His gaze was low, fuck knows if this place had cameras but he couldn't find much of a care right now, his mind and heart oddly set on getting these decorations for you and making you happy. Without delay, you followed and stepped out the car to approach the house. For a moment, you both stood on the sidewalk just staring at the house, looking more like a bunch of creeps than anything. Slowly, you glanced at Toby and he glanced at you and before you knew it, he was stepping toward the house, a bounce in each step like he was on a mission.

As Toby approached the nearest bush, he began to tug at the lights that were wrapped around it. You felt anxious watching him, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching. You were thankful that it was already pretty dark out and you just hoped to fuck that the people who lived in this house were out doing Christmas shopping or something. The brunette struggled as some of the lights latched tightly to the dense bush, pulling as hard as he could until they finally slip free. The bundle remained in his hands, a smug look across his features as he tossed the lights onto the sidewalk. They were no longer lit, so a part of you hoped Toby hadn't broken them while he attempted to free them.

"Haha! Alright, let's get the ones on the porch," he motioned for you to follow him as he stepped toward the porch and cautiously you followed behind. The porch had an array of lights, too many for your liking and closest to the door was the plug for most of them. You decided to step over and begin unplugging them before Toby carelessly yanked them off posts and fences, not wanting any to break and for all of this to be worth nothing. "We should do this more- nngh- more often!" he spoke between grunts, pulling the string of lights into a bundle of tangled mess to his feet below him. You chuckled a nervous, dry laugh before moving to take the wreath off the door. You didn't need it.. but it'd look cute on the cabin.

"Hah-.. yeah, it's fun," you wanted to tell yourself that but deep down your biggest fear was getting caught. You shouldn't have suggested this idea to Toby in the first place, you knew how reckless and impulsive this man was. "Maybe we have enough lights, Toby?" you said with a whisper, moving to join his side as he continued untangling lights off the post of the porch.

"Nah, we need all of them, like that one, that one there, oh.. fuck it, let's just go in and take their fucking tree," Toby laughed softly, enjoying this too much than murder itself. Your fists clenched into balls, chewing on the bottom of your lip nervously as you glanced around the neighbourhood. Somebody was going to catch you guys, the owners will come home and they'll-

"Hey!" A voice called out from across the street and you froze, feeling your heart drop into the pits of your stomach. Your breath hitched, knowing that this was the end and it was over and you were about to spend the damn night in jail. First jail, and then they'll see that Toby is a mass criminal and then you'll be fucking locked away forever!

"Toby, Toby-" you urged through clenched teeth, but Toby didn't care; he continued on removing the lights and ignoring the person that was creeping closer and closer toward the house. "We have to go-"

"Hey, neighbour!" Toby grinned, shooting up a hand to give the person a wave. It was a woman, short and plump, with hair that was short and hung just by her ears. She didn't seem impressed, her hands crossed across her torso as she inspected yourself and Toby.

"What are you doing?" the woman called out, craning her head slightly to glare at you who was promptly hiding behind Toby's large frame.

"Changing the decorations," Toby called out in response, shrugging softly as he tossed the remaining lights carelessly on the already pre-existing pile on the floor. "Wife's not happy with them," he motioned toward you, rolling his eyes. "What I do for love, huh? You're a pain in my ass," he said the last part with a strained voice as he glanced at you from over his shoulder. "Play along," he grumbled below his breath and you blinked. Shit, you was never good at improv so quickly you just stepped forward and let out a dry chuckle.

"Ah, ahah- yes! Wanted to redecorate a little!" there was a nervous tinge in your voice as it wavered slightly, Toby almost wanting to roll his eyes at how unconvincing you were being right now.

This woman was not convinced and Toby knew it, challenging her gaze with his own.

"I've not seen you around here before," she called out, etching closer to the porch and quickly Toby stood straight to assert some control over the situation. His eyes narrowed, matching her own but he kept a friendly tone to his voice as he spoke back:

"I'm just part of f-f-fff.." Quickly, you took the lead.

"Family." You finished his sentence quickly and forced a smile. Toby looked at you from the corner of his eye, slightly thankful that you look the lead but knowing that this wasn't going well. The woman did not reply, simply sneering from almost the end of her nose before turning on his heel to retire back to her own house. As soon as her back turned, you let out a soft breath of relief before looking back at Toby, who already understood what you meant before you could even word it.

"Yeah, I get it. Let's go," Toby almost huffed, grabbing the bundle of lights within his arms and stepping down the porch. You followed, picking up any loose wires that he was dragging along behind him as you both approached the car. He pried open the back seats as he tossed the lights in them, turning to glance at the nearest bush that still had lights nestled within them. "One more-" he quickly said with a chuckle before jogging to the bush, grabbing the lights and yanking them off with ease. Adding those to the pile, he shot you a wink before walking around the car to get back into the drivers seat. You'd already gotten back in the car, thumbs twirling anxiously once again as you watched Toby walk around the car. He paused however, glancing down at the plate and suddenly there was an abrupt clanging coming from behind. You jumped and shot around to watch him, watching his short struggle as he ripped off the plate and finally walked around to get back behind the wheel.

Tossing the plate behind and adding them atop the pile of Christmas lights, you didn't even want to bother questioning as he stepped on the gas to push the car down the street. He drove atop the sidewalk, promptly hitting some trashcans which fell with a loud clatter before spinning the car around to head back down the way they had came. The loud stir caused that same woman to come running out her house, to which Toby rolled your window down, leant over you and quickly threw a middle finger at her while laughing practically in her face. His momentary action caused the car to serve, making you grab a hold of his arm that was held out in front of you.

Now, a part of you didn't want to admit it but you actually had fun. Despite the lingering anxiety for the duration of it, you found yourself chuckling and laughing along with Toby. It was crazy that he actually put that much effort in just to decorate? You were unsure if it was getting to your head, maybe it was more for him than it was for you.

The ride back was equally quiet as the ride there, the car humming as Toby occasionally shifted in his seat here and there; like something was bothering him. Exchanging a look, you raised a brow.

"What's wrong?" you asked, observing his moments closely.

"Someting's n-nnot right." Toby replied and now you shuffled uncomfortably at his words, that same lingering anixety pooling back to the pits of your stomach. Had he forgotten something? Maybe there was a camera? Quickly, you glanced in the mirror and checked the roads behind you; empty. Thankfully no cops but his restlessness continued to bothered you. Toby then reached over, fiddling with the knobs of the radio station until static filled the air between the two of you. The noise was unwelcoming and you winced, watching with a grimaced face.

Then music game through, soft, comforting music that you instantly recognised. The familiar jingle of bells, the feel good feeling Christmas music gave you. You couldn't contain your grin as you exchanged a look to Toby who, albeit, was looking at the road; was smiling himself. Christmas music wasn't great, not for him but if you enjoyed it, that was all he needed to feel content. The snow continued to fall, the windshield wipers flickering back and forth to try and keep up with each snowflake.

"Thank you, Toby," you uttered softly under feint music, keeping your gaze on the road ahead. Toby's brows twitched, his grip tightening on the wheel and then untightening as he rolled his eyes at your comment. "You didn't have to do all this." And you were right, he didn't have to and admittedly a part of him was questioning why he even did.

With a soft shrug, Toby replied; "it's nothing." However, it wasn't just nothing, it was everything to you and you wished he knew that, well, perhaps he did.

The car pulled up before the cabin, the familiarity of it warming your soul. It was a simple, wooden cabin but it was home. The faint glow from inside made you feel warm, a tinge of excitement buzzing in your body at the idea of decorating with the lights you guys managed to get away with. You both gathered the stolen goods before stepping back inside. It was still warm from the fire that was going before you had left, the warmth cupping your cheeks and banishing the cold away from them within an instant. Rogers then made haste to get the fire going again, poking at it and grabbing the matches that sat atop the mantelpiece. As you shrugged off your coat, you tugged the lights to the couch before dropping them atop the pillows. First thing was first, there simply had to be some lights around the windows, maybe some lights outside too! Oh, and that wreath you stole! You wanted to jump up and down from excitement; just settling on grinning to yourself instead.

The fire began to roar to life once again, Toby standing close by to monitor it. The warmth of the fire turned the snow that was still clinging to his boots into nothing but a puddle of water, crackling and popping with each log he fed into the flames. As much as you didn't want to admit it, doing something like this with him felt.. intimate and you were unsure as to why? Like it felt, for once, normality had come back. There was nothing romantic between you and Toby, you knew that and were certain of it; its just sometimes he'd look at you in a way, or speak to you in a way that would make you feel.. make you wonder if there was something more behind those brown eyes of his? Feelings he was trying to bury deep?

"So, we needed a t-t-tree too, right?" Toby spoke, breaking the silence and causing you to turn sharply to face him; like you had been caught doing something you weren't supposed to. Fuck, you were thankful he couldn't read minds. Your brows furrowed, you already had enough and as much as you wanted a tree; you didn't want him to go out and do more than he had already done. Exchanging a soft smile, you shook your head.

"It's not needed, but thank you-" "Nah, I'm getting one." You blinked, a little shocked as he already headed toward the door and leant down to pick up one of his hatchets. You wanted to protest but stood, watching as he disappeared. With a gentle huff, you decided to just get to work putting up these lights; praying some of them worked despite Toby's rough treatment.

As Toby got to work finding the best tree he could axe down, you got to work putting up the lights. You had to make do with what you had; stolen light and duct tape - but it worked! Better than you had hoped as a matter of fact. You'd decorated the inner windows with lights, the lights thankfully long enough to reach around each window within the room.

Deep down, you just hoped they worked. Approaching the plug socket, you sucked in a steady breath before pushing in the prongs of the plug into the socket on the wall. The lights made no motion to turn on, no array of beautiful shimmers and it was there your stomach dropped a little. That excitement that once bubbled within you fading into nothing but a disappointed glow. Well, what did you expect? It was better than nothing and it was the effort you put in. With a gentle huff, you forced a smile and stood straight. Before you could wallow any further, the door suddenly swung open which shot a sharp chill down your spine and you quickly looked over in interest. In came Toby, a tree almost the fucking size of him lugging behind, soft grunts and groans as he pulled it inside; bringing in piles of snow on the wooden floor. You were unsure if you should laugh, the sight of him practically battling this tree in the doorway enough to make you stifle some laughter.

"Oh, god- please don't tell me you found the biggest tree you could find-" you giggled, clamping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself. Toby glanced over his shoulder at you, heavy snowflakes blanketing his brunette hair. The sight of you laughing at him made him smile softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment flutter within him.

"You know- ng-" he tugged the tree inside, the branches barely fitting past the frame of the door. "What they say. Bigger the b-b-better." He had a smug look across his face and in that moment, you were unsure if he were talking about the tree or something else. "Don't usually have girls complain about size." You stood wide eyed in horror at his comment, feeling a deep blush creep across your cheeks as you choked out a laugh.

"Uh-" you started, quickly glancing away as you tried to jumble some thoughts together. Was it the fire or was it hot in here? You wanted to fan yourself but kept twiddling your thumbs closely to your torso. "I hate to say it, the lights are fucked." It was true, you hated to admit it and as Toby exchanged a look between you and the lights, he could sense your utter disappointment laced in your tone alone. Narrowing his eyes, he plonked the tree down, shut the door and then approached the lights. He stood, pondering before tapping a finger against his stubbled chin.

"Well, shit," was all he could say for he was no damned electrician but when he looked at your face, he knew in that moment he had to be. "Let me l-llook." With a nod, you stepped aside and let him glance at the wires. He had no idea what he was doing but to you it looked as if Superman had swooped down to save Christmas. He'd poke and prod the wires; pull and push the plug back in and despite his efforts nothing worked. You watched, arms crossed as you glanced at the wires decorated around the windows. Then, as if like magic, suddenly they lit up, rewarding a surprised gasp from you. Toby would never admit it to you, but there was an button that just needed to be switched 'ON' but for his sake, he fixed it. As he stood straight, he glanced over at you, feeling his heart almost swell. The lights, my, they sparkled so beautifully in your eyes and he was mesmerised by how the glow reflected off your skin.

"They work-" you exclaimed, a little breathless by the beautiful glow. He was staring and quickly, he followed your gaze up by the lights. For once, he felt a little speechless because you were so beautiful. "Thank you, Toby," you shot him a smile, your own cheeks feeling a little red. Toby just smiled, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.

"Let's work on this t-t-.. tree," he muttered, motioning over to the pine on the floor. You had to give it to him, it was a pretty nice, plump tree. With a nod, you approached the tree and began to lift it; Toby ushering over to lend some muscle.

Aside from the messy hack job, the tree was perfect. The only issue, was.. well you had no stand for it, so right now it was just leant against the wall of the cabin. It worked and you sure weren't one to complain after all the effort Toby went into retrieving the thing. You glanced at Toby, whose hands were on his hips as he observed the tree. He seemed troubled and a part of you wondered if you both thought the same thing; that the thing was pretty bare.

"We don't have any decorations for it," you started, glancing over at the pile of lights you guys still had. "I mean, we have lights, but no baubles." Toby glanced at the lights before shrugging.

"Better than nothing," and you agreed with him. So, the pair of you got to work. It didn't go great admittedly, Toby having to stand behind the tree to keep it straight so you could run around the tree with lights. He would chuckle, almost tempted to throw a foot out to trip you up. Then the lights would be in a huge tangle, so you had to sit on the floor for a moment to untangle the mess. You absolutely stole way more lights than needed, but maybe they would be useful next year or even used as back up in case one of them decided to burst out and die. "It's l-llooking good," Toby encouraged, admiring what he could with the tree resting against the palm of his hand.

"Are you sure?" you asked, glancing up from the tangled mess. Toby glanced around from behind the tree toward you.

"Why would I lie?" he asked and a soft smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

After a couple more laps around the tree, Toby rested it back against the wall and there you plugged in the lights, allowing them to illuminate the branches with coloured lights that would flicker and flash momentarily. It was perfect, the tree, the lights, the crackling of the fire, the smell of pine and dare you say it; the company too. Of course, you never imagined Toby would be up for such an idea but as you glanced over toward him admiring the lights, you couldn't help but notice a little boy that stood in the place of this man. You so desperately wished things had been different for him. As you glanced back toward the tree, there was a touch that brushed against your fingertips and there you quickly glanced down, seeing his fingers curling around your own. Your heart fluttered as you quickly looked back up toward the tree, unsure if you should say something.

"Toby, I-" Abruptly, he leant forward and connected his lips with yours. It was rough but he didn't know any better. You faltered for a moment but quickly pressed your lips against his own, sharing a passionate moment together that would most likely be unspoken the next day. For now, you would savour it; the roughness of his lips, his taste and the warmth that lingered off his body. The kiss, so bittersweet, lasted only a moment but felt although it had lasted for an eternity as he pulled back. Your own lips cold, yearning, wanting more as you fluttered your eyes open. Your eyes searched his own, searching for answer you were not going to receive.

"Shit, you usually do that under mistletoe, right?" He uttered, licking his lips softly just to savour your taste a little longer.

i need this man in my life and mouth

anyway i was in a christmas mood and wrote this majority of the day. merry christmas, ya filthy animals !

[voidofthevoidmv]

TAKING SHIFTS- A classic Stanley Pines adopts the shapeshifter AU-> Little info dump

Basic gist of it is that post portal accident, Stanley is trying his damndest to get his brother back by fixing the portal- Which logically requires that Stanley get all the journals so that he actually has a full blueprint to look at.

However, in his search for any of the journals, he discovers some kind of top secret tree bunker- Classic Ford antics. He investigates the bunker, only to find some kind of kid monster, who is under the impression that Stan is his own brother and tries to kill him. The only thing that convinces the creature that Stan is NOT Ford, is the fact that Stan has a mullet and his brother does not. Would you be surprised to discover that the mullet would play a deeper role in things than at first glance? Not me, but I think it’s very funny anyways.

The monster kid is revealed to be some kind of alien shapeshifter thing, and upon realizing that Stanley is some kind of Ford doppleganger, the shapeshifter suddenly becomes the most clingy kid ever, following Stan around throughout the bunker like a lost duckling. Stanley tries to be chill about it, but the memories of being attacked are still pretty fresh in his brain.

After a bit the two will leave the bunker, yadda yadda yadda dialogue, and Stanley will be concerned to find that this kid hasn’t had the best upbringing in the world so far- If the limited English and big eyed staring at the sky was anything to go by. While Stan has half a mind to leave this monster kid to the wild, he apparently has these weird issues with abandonment. Something about seeing himself in the little monster kid. So he takes him back to the shack, helping the shapeshifter pick a name that isn’t a weird number. They eventually land on Simon, which is a play on Simon Says, because of course any name idea Stanley has it just HAS to be a pun.

And of course, taking in this shapeshifter will trigger changes to the timeline that will affect how things will go from here on out. A lot of wholesome, father kid bonding and found family stuff.

Other unmentioned information and idea snippets:

-The journals are found much sooner than in canon, which means Ford is brought back sooner than in canon. Journal 2 is found first, due to the fact that Stanley has Simon (Shifty) enrolled in elementary school, which just so happens to be were one of the journals are hidden. Simon finds it and recognizes it- And Stan is so proud. Meanwhile, later on journal 3 is found by Soos in a situation similar to canon, but like- Soosified.

-Stanley is constantly wracked with guilt as time goes on, because he will hear about of make a realization about the poor treatment of Simon by Ford and his assistant in the past- All while Stanley is still actively working to bring him back. Simon doesn’t know that it’s FORD that Stan is trying to bring back, which will only result in some betrayal later on when Ford inevitably returns.

-Simon, Tate, and Soos act almost as siblings, due to circumstances that bring them together at different points in time. Tate is Simon’s best friend, a friendship which had blossomed when Emma-May showed up to the Pines cabin door, demanding that she see her ex husband and that she has some WORDS to say to the homewrecking scientist who ruined everything. Stanley had never been more confused about anything- But while Stanley is trying his best to save the situation, Tate and Simon hit it off quickly despite the broken language barrier. Meanwhile, Soos come in later when both Simon and Stan are a bit older. Stan and Soos’s relationship is similar to how it played out in canon, but Simon gets really jealous. May or may not try to kill Soos because of it- But it’s ok cuz once Soos’s natural charm infects Simon, the big brother little brother dynamic is born.

-Simon practically idolizes Stan, and makes it a point to have his human form reflect that. He has a mullet, and it reminds him that Stan is Stan- Even after Stan cuts the mullet off so he could be a bit more business appropriate. Simon also has little freckles cuz he saw the little baby Boyish Dan and just immediately was like- Oh I want those too-

-The shapeshifter will also have his own little book of “forms” he could take. He has photos and information of various creatures, things, and people- I want you to envision how this book looks and is treated like a Pokémon card collection binder. The shapeshifter may get into photography. By the time the little twins Dipper and Mable show up, it’s not the journals that they find- But Simon’s shifting scrapbook. Which is how they find themselves getting involved in the spooky stuff in the first place.

-Because of Simon and Fords earlier arrival, the younger Pines twins adventures in Gravity Falls are a tad bit tweaked. Simon is a very powerful shapeshifter who is plenty protective of his little niblings- The Mcguckets are somewhat healthy with the whole divorced situation, and Bill is not an issue alongside Gideon… Everything else is free game though. Pretty silly.

- The way that Fiddleford is introduced to the duo is that at some point, Stan gets his memories of Simon wiped causing severe emotional distress- And it’s lowkey kinda heartbreaking. (The blind eye sees Simon shifting in front of Stan and assumes the worst.) Once Stan gets his memories back, it’s the beginning of a warpath. (And also the end of Fiddlefords crazy cultist arc- Which is good for Tate who really likes hanging around his bestie.)

-Hijinks WILL ensue, especially after Ford comes back. Probably some other tidbits I’m missing, but that’s a problem for another day- If this interest you folks anyways- Lemmy know if this is interesting or anything and feel free to ask questions. I haven’t thought so much as to how Bill gets defeated earlier and everything- But if anyone has any cool ideas I’d be open to it. Unsure if I’ll ever get to writing this one 😂

[captain-hawks]

reticent desire

— alhaitham x f!reader

summary — despite your best efforts, you never quite could catch the attention of the akademiya’s aloof scribe. at least that’s what you thought, until an expedition goes awry and you find yourself pressed up against him within the confines of a small, dark closet with little room left for the secrets that linger between you.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.4k

content —  fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral fixation, finger sucking

“I notice everything when it comes to you.” Alhaitham’s nose brushes against the back of your neck, and your legs nearly give out at the feeling of his soft lips ghosting over your skin as he sighs, “Even if I may not show it.”

“Stop fidgeting.”

Alhaitham’s breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs the words, lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear. Eyes falling shut, you inhale silently, palm pressed firmly against the door in front of you as you bite back a retort about counterintuitive circumstances and the like. His tone is laced with his usual dose of annoyance, though it’s also pitched with something else you can’t quite put a finger on.

At least not while you’re crammed together in a small storage room inside of a run down old shack deep in the woods outside of Sumeru City. Hiding.

This was, for all intents and purposes, meant to be a run-of-the-mill expedition. A brief afternoon spent traipsing through one of the safer paths in the Avidya Forest to gather crystalflies. However, stumbling upon a rogue group of Eremites was not on the agenda.

There’s a sharp prick on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh—fucking Sumerian bugs—and despite the sweltering weather that inspired it, you’ve sorely begun to regret the dress that you slipped on earlier this morning before hurrying to meet Alhaitham outside the steps of the Akademiya. You can’t help but let out a strangled gasp, unintentionally pressing back into Alhaitham as you rub a hand over the bite, but your pained noise is cut off by a hand clapping over your mouth just as the outer door to the hut swings open.

The stinging pain fades to a dull throb as boots scuff along the floorboards, though the relief only lasts for a moment before it begins to itch. Your fingers flex against your skin as you trap your hand between your thighs in frustration, like that’ll make it stop. 

And then all remaining thoughts swiftly exit your brain at the feeling of Alhaitham’s free hand joining your own, fingers interlocking with yours as he grasps your thigh and holds your hand still. 

“It’s like you want to get caught,” he mutters chastisingly, and you nearly shudder at the sudden sensation of a kiss of elemental energy skittering along your skin. 

Alhaitham’s not a healer, not even close. But the bit of dendro power that he’s carefully channeling through his fingertips is just enough to take off the edge, the feeling akin to stepping outside into the soothing caress of a cool evening breeze. You can’t help the way your head drops back against his shoulder, his hand sliding over your jaw and coming to rest against your neck as your lips fall open in a pitiful little exhale of relief.

The two of you stay like that long after the cabin goes silent, luck clearly on your side as the Eremites prove not to be thorough enough to check behind each and every door. Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, and you’re half certain you’ve begun to hallucinate when you feel his thumb trail over your collarbone. 

You can’t deny your attraction to the silver-haired scribe, the feeling something that’s lingered passively in your consciousness from the very day you first shook his hand in the Akademiya’s library when one of the scholars introduced you to him.

But despite your somewhat embarrassing attempts to garner his attention in those days—from dresses that hardly earned a second glance to comments that couldn’t be construed as anything less than outwardly suggestive—he remained aloof and indifferent. Undoubtedly uninterested.

It’s why you try not to put too much stock into his actions now, which are hardly worth overthinking given the lack of square footage to be found in your current circumstances.

“I don’t believe this outfit was the best choice for an expedition,” he breaks the silence, the sound of the Eremites hooting and yelling growing further and further away by the second. 

(You should reach for the door knob.)

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it from where he’s situated. “I’ll be sure to find something more to your liking next time,” you retort, though you know he’s referring less to the way the fabric looks and more to the way you’d had to abandon most of your modesty during the initial chase with the Eremites, skirt billowing every which way as you dashed through the woods beside him.

(You should really reach for the door knob.)

He huffs, tongue clicking against his teeth. “I didn’t say I don’t like it.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, your mouth going dry. This time, it’s Alhaitham that shifts slightly behind you—and you can’t blame him, given how long he’s been a stock-still, solid presence behind you. The model example of how not to get caught, really.

But it’s then that you finally feel it, something undeniably hard pressing against your backside. Your insides go molten, the heat curling in your abdomen coiling into something tangible and insistent, something that has you arching back into him on instinct before you can think better of it.

Alhaitham’s erection catches between the globes of your ass, the thin cotton of your dress leaving little to the imagination, and he groans. It’s a rough, gravelly sound that rumbles in his chest, complemented by a heavy exhale that sends a shiver down your spine as it hits the back of your neck. 

(And though you’ve imagined that exact sound far more times than you’d ever admit, it pales in comparison to the real thing.)

He trails one hand along your bare shoulder, fingertips just barely grasping one of the thin straps lying there. “It’s been a while since you’ve worn this.”

It’s completely silent outside of the shack now, and the two of you could easily move this conversation to somewhere less confined.

Less dark.

Less intimate.

“I’m surprised you noticed,” you reply carefully.

“I notice everything when it comes to you.” Alhaitham’s nose brushes against the back of your neck, and your legs nearly give out at the feeling of his soft lips ghosting over your skin as he sighs, “Even if I may not show it.”

Your mind reels, racing to catch up with the liquified remains of your nerves.

A sound that borders on frustration leaves his lips as he hooks a fingertip under the strap of your dress, sliding the digit along the fabric until the knuckle rests against your shoulder blade. 

“Your little scholar wouldn’t like this situation very much, I don’t think.”

You swear you feel him shudder with restraint, ever so slightly.

“That’s long over,” you tell him softly, reaching one hand back and weaving your fingers into Alhaitham’s hair, barely sparing a second thought for the fellow scholar you’d spent a few nights occupied with months and months ago.

(In an attempt to get over him.)

He inhales sharply, one large hand now splayed across your abdomen. The strap of your dress falls from your shoulder, and his lips are a scorching brand of heat as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his tongue pressing into your pulse point. 

There’s noise again, likely coming from the well-trodden dirt path just outside the cabin, and both of you stiffen for a moment.

And then his hand dips a bit lower, fingertips grazing the sensitive heat between your thighs, and you have to bite back a whimper. Danger be damned, you’re helpless to resist the urge to grind back into the insistent, hard cock that’s pressed firmly against your ass. Alhaitham growls, bunching up the skirt of your dress and cupping your sex through your panties.

Your very soaked panties, which audibly squelch under the pressure of his fingers.

“Archons…” he rasps, teeth grazing the hinge of your jaw before he begins to suck and nip at the sensitive patch of skin.

Alhaitham nudges your legs further apart with one booted foot, and your muscles tighten as you whine when he pushes one finger inside of you though the barrier of your underwear, the cotton material slick against your dripping walls. He sounds nearly reverent as he vocalizes how wet you are for him, and both of you moan in unison when he tugs your panties aside and finally sinks a bare digit into your tight cunt.

“So fucking wet,” he exhales roughly, his hips twitching as he rocks into you. 

You reach backward, palming at Alhaitham’s erection, and your mouth waters as your fingers feel out the sheer size of his thick, achingly hard cock. A hand grasps your chin, turning your head back as well, and a pair of lips comes crashing into yours in a hungry, frantic kiss.

Alhaitham moans into your mouth as you stroke him through his pants, swallowing down your own mewling noises as he slips a second finger into your pussy, wet, sticky arousal generously dripping down the inside of your thighs. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of this,” he breathes out, momentarily breaking the kiss, saliva trailing between your lips. “How many times I imagined taking you right over my desk in one of those little dresses you love to wear.”

You’re fighting a losing battle with the last dregs of your composure at the bare honesty of his words. He tugs down the other strap of your dress, groaning appreciatively when your breasts spill out, and he wastes no time as he begins to knead them, dragging a thumb over your sensitive, peaked nipples.

Your arousal is a living, breathing thing—a maelstrom of need.

“I wish you would have,” you sigh. 

He crooks his fingers inside of you, stroking a spot that leaves you gasping and trembling, nearly careening over the edge. Meanwhile, you take it upon yourself to free his cock from the confines of his pants, swiping a finger over the precum beading at the tip before stroking his warm, bare shaft. 

“It’s depraved,” he laughs darkly, pressing greedy kisses down your neck, “the way I’ve dreamed of filling you.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry of pleasure; you’re borderline sobbing at this point. You’re certain you’ve never been so aroused in your entire life, every other intimate encounter you’ve had reduced to nothing more than a hazy memory as Alhaitham continues to murmur between messy, hungry kisses—

“...to know that when you walk through the halls of the Akademiya, catching the eyes of every fucking scholar, it’s my cum leaking from your cunt all the while…”

You may very well lose your mind if he doesn’t fuck you right here, right now. And you whimper as much while he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“...please.”

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he intones, hiking your dress up further as he grasps his thick cock between his fingers, your cunt greedily taking in the head as he notches it at your entrance. 

He cups your jaw with his free hand, fingertips grazing your lips, and you swipe your tongue over one of the digits. Tentatively, he begins to slide the digit into your mouth, and an appreciative sound leaves him as you take him even deeper with a hushed moan, tongue wrapping around his finger. 

Alhaitham slowly begins to slide his cock inside of you, your soaking wet walls easily giving way to the stretch of his shaft. He slips another finger into your mouth, breathing heavily as he bottoms out within the plush heat of your cunt, murmuring about how fucking good you’re taking him. How incredible you feel. 

“So perfect,” he rasps into your ear, steadily pulling his cock out of you before driving back in balls deep. 

Drool slides down your chin, the wanton cries of pleasure bubbling up inside of you muffled by the sloppy, wet sounds of you eagerly sucking on his fingers as your body vibrates with pleasure.

With each stroke of his hips, Alhaitham’s thrusts grow more rough, more desperate. You’re throbbing with desire, with need, with the unbearable urge to moan and scream for him until your throat is raw. 

And he must know it, must want that as badly as you do, because he rasps, “I want to hear you next time.” Your walls flutter as he drags his cock out of you before slamming back into your needy hole, cock bullying its way through the tight grasp of your pussy as deep as it can go. His spit-slick fingers stay lodged in your mouth as he continues, “I want to know every sound that I can drag out of these pretty little lips of yours.”

You’re helpless to hold back your answering moan as your thoughts stray to the promise of Alhaitham fucking you elsewhere, beyond the confines of this small, dark closet. He drags his fingers over your throbbing clit as his shaft massages your inner walls at a pace that’s rapidly becoming frenzied. 

He pulls your lips back into a kiss that’s all ravenous tongues and teeth, and his tone is somewhere between a command and a plea as he groans, “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

With the circles he’s rubbing into your aching bundle of nerves and the continuous sink and drag of his shaft in your plush hole, you part your lips further and let him lick his way into your mouth as you comply. Cunt spasming, your entire body trembles and shakes as you gush on his cock, going lightheaded with the force of your orgasm while you whimper his name.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his thrusts growing erratic until he plunges deep inside of you one last time, your kiss reduced to heaving breaths against one another’s lips as you feel hot ropes of cum spill into your cunt, filling you to the brim.

You’d collapse to the floor, probably, if there were room to do so. 

Alhaitham wraps his arms around you, holding you close for what could be minutes or hours, you’re not quite sure how to measure the passage of time with your mind reduced to a hazy fog of pleasure and bliss. When he eventually pulls his softened cock out of you, he groans quietly as he briefly slips a finger into your cum-filled cunt before quickly pulling up your panties.

You finally turn to face Alhaitham. He flattens down the skirt of your dress, one hand lingering against your hip bone as he presses his lips to yours once more.

“I’ll clean you up when we get back,” he murmurs, a promise in the filthy, hungry, broad stroke of his tongue as he parts the seam of your lips.

-

likes, comments, &/or reblogs are appreciated<3!

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 5: Restraints

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) use of rope as a restraint, bondage, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, so much dirty talk Cooper is so quiet until his dick is out, praise, a heavy dose of degradation/teasing, if I missed anything please let me know!

You’d noticed the rope during your first encounter with Cooper; the crude lasso he seemed so proud of, draped over his shoulder like some kind of prize.

And when you started traveling with him, each other’s sole source of companionship on the long road to nowhere, you learned plenty about him, but nothing about that damn rope.

“What’s the lasso for?” You’d pressed once, looking for something to keep your mind occupied.

“Helpful t’have a good reach,” he'd scoffed, shutting you down.

You’d never brought it up again.

It still remained, unused, a constant presence at his side; an aide that seemed more for show than anything. You had begun to wonder whether it was just part of the costume—maybe he didn’t even know how to use it.

You took the initiative during a rare moment of tranquility. Your curiosity peaked as the sun dipped behind the sand, your body relaxing against the floor of the rundown building that would make do for a night.

“How come I never see you use the rope?” You spoke over the dim flame, between yourself and the Ghoul, where it burnt out on the hardwood floor.

“Ain’t needed’t,” he tilted his hat over his face, a gesture that signaled his disinterest in the conversation you were offering.

“Haven’t needed it, or haven’t wanted to use it?” Your lips twisted into a mischievous smile, “Or don’t know how.”

That got his attention.

“You got somethin’ y’wanna say, girl?” He leaned back, face reemerging from under the brim of his hat.

“I’m just riffing,” you shrugged, “But for someone that dresses like a cowboy, you sure don't ever seem to reach for the most cowboy-ish thing at your disposal.” You grinned, watching the scowl on his face harden, “Just seems like maybe it’s all for show.”

“Stand up.” Cooper’s voice projected a shallow echo around the structure you’d shacked up in. It was loud enough to startle you into obeying. “Now turn ‘round.”

You did as he said, shifting on your feet warily.

You’d mocked him before, little things about his aesthetic and his personality, but only as much as he mocked you. Now it seemed you’d struck a nerve.

“Walk.” Cooper instructed when you’d turned your back on him.

Again, you complied, taking slow steps across the room. Under the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath your feet, you could hear Cooper rustling around.

You made it halfway to the opposite wall when you felt the air move around you, a sharp tug catching you around the abdomen.

You let out a short yelp before falling to the floor with a thud. Cursing, you began to battle the rope wrapped around your waist and arms.

Cooper appeared above you, grinning at you where you lay in a heap on the floor.

“Y’still think I dunno what I’m doin’?” He asked, kneeling beside you. You frowned up at him.

“Not funny.” You tried to wriggle free from your confines.

“S’pretty funny, darlin’.” He knelt beside you, bringing his hand up to tug gently at the rope. He let out a low whistle, “Gotcha good.”

You had to admit—to yourself, at least—that he had, in fact, put on a convincing display. You couldn’t move your arms from where they sat, bound to your sides, and it hadn’t taken him long to snag you.

Even if it was only from a short distance, he’d done it pretty effortlessly. It was on brand for him.

And more attractive than you’d care to confess.

In the Wastes, certainly, you’d be putting up more of a fight; and if it were anybody but him, you’d have tried to bite off a finger or two by now. But in this empty cabin, with Cooper perched next to you, admiring his handywork, the surge of adrenaline that crashed over you was nowhere near related to a survival instinct—this was pure longing.

“Cooper—” You started to speak, almost whining at the ideas that had begun to spring up in your mind, but he interrupted.

“Yeah, stop squirmin’, sweetheart,” he gathered the length of rope that remained, draping it over his hand. “Y’want me to untie ya or not?”

“Mph.” You grunted out a vague answer. You were certain that if you offered any verbal reply it would give away your desire for him. You were just as certain that your desire would be met with rejection.

“Turn over—knot’s on your back.” His hands moved to your waist, flipping you onto your stomach, and despite yourself, you let out a whimper in response to the way he touched you.

So much for hiding your desires.

It gave Cooper pause; he studied you, hands leaving your body. Your cheek was pressed against the floor, and he bent forward enough to meet your gaze.

“I could jus’ keep ya like this,” it was rhetorical, he didn’t want an answer from you yet. “Bet you’d finally fuckin’ listen ‘f’I did.”

You bit your bottom lip, hoping he couldn’t see the way you shifted to rub your thighs together.

“Real easy t’do whatever I want with ya like this,” he continued, straightening back up onto his knees. He let his hand fall to the knot in the rope where it sat on your back. “Tell me somethin’, sweetheart,” he yanked at the rope, and you moaned at the sharp feeling, “Y’ask me for a demonstration jus’ so I could get ya like this?”

“Th…it wasn’t the original intention…no…” You switched now to biting the inside of your cheek.

“But now…?” He prompted you to continue.

“Cooper, please…” You didn’t know what you were asking for.

“But now y’like it, huh?” He finished the thought for you, “Like th’idea o’bein’ helpless for me.” He reached for your face, fingers hooking under your chin and forcing you to crane your neck to look at him. “S’at it? Y’want me t’keep ya at my disposal?” His free hand trailed down your thigh.

“Yes,” you gasped at the contact. His hands were exploring you in ways you’d only imagined in late-night fantasies, ones you always tried to push from your mind.

“Good answer,” he rasped, letting your head drop as he removed his grasp. He focused his attention on your lower half.

Cooper cupped your sex over your pants, pressing his palm into you just enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin engulf you through the fabric. You whined, grinding your hips superficially against him.

“Coulda jus’ asked, darlin’,” he sighed, watching you try to fuck yourself on his hand. “Always willin’ t’give a pretty lady what she needs.”

“Need you,” you moaned, voice muted by the wood of the floor.

“Yeah?” He goaded you, “How ya need me? Need me to treat ya how I think y’deserve it?” He pressed the tips of his fingers against your clothed cunt, and you squealed. “Cause I think y’deserve it pretty fuckin’ rough, way you been actin’.”

“Yes—yeah, Cooper. I’ll take it.” You began to move your hips against him more fervently, and he laughed.

“Well, ‘course you’ll take it, sweetheart,” he moved his hand up from your cunt, tracing over the curve of your ass before squeezing hard, “Y’don’t have a fuckin’ choice, now, do ya?”

That made you moan, a sound from deep within that expressed your lust.

You couldn’t believe he was speaking to you like this, couldn’t believe he was touching you like this—couldn’t believe that all it had taken was questioning his skills as a genuine cowboy.

Cooper straddled your legs, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands could reach your front and undo the fasten of your pants. He yanked them down, practically tearing them off your body, moving himself off of you to slip the fabric from around your ankles.

He gripped your calves, forcing your legs open, and you couldn’t deny the feeling of validation when he let out a groan at the sight of you.

“Christ, you’re soaked,” he settled onto the floor, hoisting you to your knees so that he could situate his face directly in front of your cunt. “S’this cause’a me, or are y’always jus’ this fuckin’ easy?” He spread your folds with his fingers, watching your slick coat him.

“You,” you breathed, moving your hips back against him, trying to encourage him to do more. “It’s all you, Cooper, it’s—fuck!”

You didn’t have time to finish your heartfelt praise; Cooper buried his face against you, thumbs hooked beneath your hip bones to keep you from moving. He lapped at you, tongue pushing against your hole and forcing his way into you.

You arched your back, trying to stretch your bound arms further down your body to grab onto something—some part of him—to ground you while he gave you what you wanted. You found his hand, still nestled between your hip and thigh, and squeezed at it. He growled, moving his hand to give you the space you needed to hold onto him.

He came up for air, admiring his work. You were dripping with the glassy combination of your slick and his spit.

He ran his fingers over your slit, rubbing gently at your clit and watching you twitch in satisfaction at his movements.

Without warning, his hand slipped back down to your hole, two of his fingers pressing into you and settling deep.

You let out a strangled sound, grinding your hips back against the intrusion and letting moans of his name fall from your lips. He scissored his fingers, twisting them slightly before finding your g-spot and letting the digits curl into it.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight,” Cooper himself was hypnotized, obsessed with your desperate movements against his leisurely pace. “Go on, baby, lemme see ya fuck yourself on my hand. Y’gonna cum, sweetheart? Gonna wet my fuckin’ fingers, y'helpless li’l thing?”

He brought his other hand to your clit, and the tips of his fingers brushed over the bud with every shaky movement you made against the fingers he had buried inside you. The pressure in your stomach began to build rapidly.

He curled his fingers again, his other hand pressing hard against your clit, and you came with a scream. Your lungs were on fire, and you felt lightheaded—either from arousal or the way the rope had begun to cut off your circulation, you didn’t know, nor did you really care.

“Goddamn,” Cooper watched your thighs tremble, your body all but collapsing onto itself as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. When he removed them, you clenched around nothing. “Knew you’d be pretty when y'came.”

“Thought—you thought about it a lot?” You teased between moments spent trying to catch your breath.

Cooper rolled you onto your back, using his knee to spread your legs again. “You in any position to be tauntin’ me ‘bout my fantasies, darlin’?”

“Maybe not…” You conceded, “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

“Tellin’ me y’never thought about it before now?” He was sizing you up, seeing how far you were willing to go, if this escapade would continue. “Never thought ‘bout wrapping that perfect mouth ‘round me? Lettin’ me pump you full o’RadAway after I pump you full o’my load?”

“Cooper,” your head fell back against the floor as you moaned, and you again started trying to grind against nothing.

“Takin’ that as a yes,” Cooper smiled down at you, watching you move your hips to no avail. “What’ll it be then, sweetheart? Feel like usin’ that mouth?” He pushed his thumb against your lips, and you eagerly accepted it, sucking. “Course, not really your decision…” He mused, “Given your…current state. Jus’ have t’make the choice for ya.”

You mumbled something around him that he didn’t bother asking you to clarify. Cooper removed his thumb from your mouth, using it to press against your swollen clit, and you whimpered.

“’Nd right now, I’m partial t’seein’ jus’ how deep this cunt can swallow me.” He played with you, seeing how loud he could get you to whine by applying varying amounts of pressure to your clit, smiling deviously as he did. “Whattya think, sweetheart? Y’want it?”

“Yes,” you were writhing against his hand, bucking your hips forward whenever he lessened the pressure, trying to chase the feeling of his thumb pressed rough against you. “Yes—you have no idea—”

“Got a li’l bit ‘f’an idea…”

He smirked, moving to situate himself properly between your legs on the floor. You strained your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of him when he tugged his cock free from his pants, but he didn’t spend time showing off.

He rutted against your folds, the underside of his cock dragging slowly over you. He pulled back to give himself the space to press his tip to your hole, hissing slightly.

“Keep’ose eyes here,” he had noticed your inability to keep your head up, leaning forward to grab you by the hair. He tilted your face, aiming your line of sight directly at the space his cock was taking up. “Watch.”

He pushed into you with no hesitation; one long, deep stroke, filling you completely and knocking the wind from you.

You screamed, subconsciously trying to move your arms to grab at him, pull him closer, tear him apart in the most beautiful way you could think of—until you were reminded of the restraints around your body.

The realization, the knowledge that he had total control over the scenario, made you all the more vulnerable to the stretch of him inside you; you ground your hips up into him, welcoming the feeling he was so kindly gifting you.

“There ya go,” Cooper’s jaw was clenched, sunken eyes hooded by his knit brow as his eyes scanned you. “Keep still, now. Don' want me tyin' ya tighter,” he smiled through the satisfaction, the tight, warm grip you had on his cock, "Hell, y'might want that."

He leaned into you, bringing his chest to yours and slowing his pace so that he could savor the way you felt around him.

“You look good like this,” he spoke into the crook of your neck. His tone was drenched in sex and predation, but also that of something more compassionate. “Nowhere t’go, right where y’belong.” You tilted your head back, letting out a shaky breath, and he took the opportunity to slam himself into you, analyzing the way you responded. “Maybe I'll keep ya untied nex’time, 'f'ya promise to listen."

And then he kissed you, tongue parting your lips and swallowing the noises you made for him.

You wanted to grip his face. You wanted to reach up and let your hands explore his jaw and the nape of his neck. You wanted to pull him deeper, to give him all of you.

But the power dynamic tasted delicious. The urgency he pressed into you with his mouth and hips made you feel special, heady, even; you moaned against his lips when he rammed into you again.

A thin strand of spit connected you to him after he’d parted, opting now to grab the rope around your midriff and use it as leverage to fuck into you relentlessly.

“Oh, fuck—” You tried to arch your back, but the position disallowed your body from moving too much. It left you at his mercy—hands quite literally tied. “Fuck, Cooper, I’m—please.”

“You what?” He tugged at the rope, and you whimpered, “You gonna cum f'me? S’at what y’wanna tell me? Gonna gimme another one? Show me how much you love bein’ bound up?”

You nodded, a pitiful gesture, face contorting into a salacious wince.

“Yeah, show me.” It was all he said, bringing his fingers to your clit again and massaging tight circles over it.

Your muscles strained against the feeling, tightening somewhere in your stomach before loosening completely to free the shockwave of pleasure that had been building. You cried out for him, thrashing between the floor and his body.

“Shit, that’s good,” Cooper muttered to himself, watching you come undone. “Would ask where y’want me, but we already concluded you ain’t really in th’position t’be givin’ orders.” He pulled out, moving inelegantly to straddle your chest. “Think I’ll paint ya nice.”

“Yeah—please,” two orgasms deep and foggy with desire, you honestly didn’t care what he did now as long as you got to see him cum for you. “Want it—want it on my face, Cooper, give it to me.”

“Oh, y’like that, huh?” He grabbed you by the jaw, his other hand wrapped tight around his cock and stroking it slowly. “Close yer fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart.”

You obliged with a whimper.

“Y’really do listen so much better when I got y’tied down,” Cooper spoke mostly to himself, rallying to the end of his pleasure, “Should’a jus’ tied those legs open ‘n’your hands back soon as I met ya.”

“Fuck, I would’ve let you,” you blurted, and it was the truth—you had stuck with him all this time because he was cunning, quick on the draw; you’d started following him initially because he was so fascinating, so mysteriously beautiful.

“Ain’t I tell ya to shut your fuckin’ mouth?” Cooper drawled, mouth falling slack. His hand toyed with his cockhead, concentrating his energy into his release. “Fuck—look at ya. Christ, y’want it, sweetheart? Y’want me t’decorate that pretty face?” He’d let his head fall back, speaking to the ceiling, “Here it is—shit, here y’go, darlin’.”

His cum splashed your face, and you relished the feeling of the heavy drops that landed sticky on your skin. You poked your tongue out, licking up what had landed close enough to your mouth for you to reach.

“Jesus…” Cooper was still perched above you, letting his weight sag slightly, his knees weakening beneath him at the newfound loss of adrenaline.

“How do I look?” You stared up at him. The haze began to clear from your mind, leaving you desperate to see how he’d act now that he'd gotten off.

“Prettiest goddamn paintin’ I ever seen.” He moved himself off of you, lying on his side next to you on the hard floor.

You felt a surge of relief. He left no space between your bodies, and still heaped you with his own brand of crude praise.

“Does that mean you’ll untie me?” You tried your hand at playing coy, hoping to finally get feeling back in your fingers so that you could drag them over his skin the way he’d gotten to touch you.

“Now,” he swiped his hand over your cheek, collecting his own spend on his finger, “Why would I do that?”

“Said you’d untie me next time."

“Yeah—next time,” he tilted his body towards you, giving you a sly smile that showed off his front teeth, “Never said I was done with ya yet this time.”  

[mikeyhyy]

After 30 years... (Ford × Male reader)part 1

This is Ford × Male Reader, this story takes place in the year the series takes place. The reader and Ford had a relationship, but it ended because of Bill (I can write a story explaining this part if you want). The reader is 50 years old, he was 20 when he met Ford.

I don't write for female readers so don't even try to ask if it's for a female reader.

ATTENTION: Chapter not revised

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How long has it been since you last seen Ford? 30 years? He just disappeared after the breakup and you don't know where he was, when you broke up it was a very strange breakup because Ford had a different voice and different colored eyes when he simply said he wanted to break up with you, but then they called you a few days ago and who had a female voice that sounded extremely excited and she said that Ford wanted to see you, but it sounded like a voice that was too young to be his wife or something. Now you are in front of the door of the 'Mystery Shack' is that the new name they gave it? Do you remember that Ford never commercialized his discoveries because that was not what he wanted.

You are currently in your fifties and you really are in the best state because you were only twenty when you dated Ford, you were young and naive and he scientist who lived in the isolated cabin in the forest. You actually found the whole mystery very attractive and he found you very attractive too so it came to that.

You only heard from Ford after the break up when you saw a newspaper headline showing him practically drunk in a bar, you realized he was with those same different eyes and decided to stop caring. But that didn't happen and you've been trying to hear from him for the last 30 years.

You squeeze the fabric of his jeans tightly and it feels like a lump has formed in your throat until you wait for a moment until you get the courage, you take a deep breath before finally opening the front door of the store and you enter the store.

Your eyes analyze the store for a moment, you see the absurd prices of strange things that if you have at least two neurons you realize are fake and it doesn't take long so that you heard an excited voice. "Are you the (name)?!" The girl with long brown hair halfway down her back, dressed in a skirt that was a little long to her knees and a very striking sweater, she had a smile on her face which showed her appearance. "Wow, Great uncle Ford was right when he said you're very handsome." The girl speaks again looking very excited, but the boy next to her stares at you even more curiously and he looked like a male version of her, but quieter and he had shorter hair, wore an orange t-shirt, dark blue vest, shorts up to the knee and a cap with a blue brim and blue sides with a blue pine tree.

"Yes, I'm (name)…" You say and put your hands in your pants pockets so as not to show that you're a little nervous, the girl asks you a billion questions and then you see the snack machine moving out of place and being pushed as if it were a door. The one who leaves there is the man who, even though he broke up with you years ago, never left your heart because he was your first love and you were the first love of his life and this is obvious because he drops whatever was in his heart. his hand the moment he sees you.

He looks at you from top to bottom, you've aged very well from his perspective, in fact from a general perspective, you still have a well-built body and your skin hasn't lost much collagen as it is normal for your age and you look so good.

But you can't help but look passionately at Ford, he doesn't look bad either and the gray hair makes him even more attractive in your opinion and he seemed to be in great condition physical. He has become even more handsome, it seems that time has only been good for him.

"(Name)…" Ford's voice sounds almost inaudible, he is so surprised, he runs his hand through his own gray hair with a slightly trembling hand and he can’t seem to believe you’re standing right in front of him after so many years. You look great, his heart beats fast when he looks at you and he can see in your eyes the man he has loved for years even if he has tried his best to forget you in the last few years in which he has passed through different dimensions.

Silence goes on for a few minutes before finally being cut off by the girl in the sweater. "So, it looks like you guys have a lot to talk about and the best way to talk alone is maybe to go out there or whatever older people do when they want a moment alone." She says and looks more thoughtful at the end as she scratches her own chin with a thoughtful expression.

Ford's cheeks get a little red and he motions for you to follow him to the basement because it's no secret to you what's there Inside, you follow him and when you enter he closes the 'door' and you go down the stairs to the bottom. As you go down you see those same screens, buttons and machines so you know that Ford is still the same Ford that you met years ago and won your heart.

(Continues in part 2…)

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I hope you liked it, my creativity ran out at the end and I decided to post a part two for their conversation.

[merakiui]

thinking about a concept in which your parent and step-parent are going through a bit of a rough patch in their relationship, so in order to resolve this tension, keep you and skully (mostly) out of it, and hopefully return with a stronger bond, they decide to live in separate spaces for the time being while the idea of divorce is constantly whispered about. you remain in the city with your parent and your step-parent takes skully back to their hometown—that little, misty town in the mountains and trees. the one where all the eerie folklore and stories skully adores comes from. the one with such a small population that you often tell your friends at school it's "that weird cult town."

well, (un)luckily for you, your parents want you to have an amicable relationship with your stepbrother. so when the winter holiday comes around, they make plans to ship you off to that weird cult town so you can spend the next two weeks shacked up in the woods with your step-parent and stepbrother. and skully will get to return to your home come summer break! the whole arrangement feels much too complicated, and at this point you just wish your parents would stop trying so hard and divorce already. :/

but there's no getting out of it, so you pack your bags and are shipped off to the place you've not-so-affectionately dubbed Cult Town.

you've actually never been here before. when your parents first met, it was in the city and so you've only ever known the rush that is city life. but everything is considerably slower here in a comfortable sort of way. there's no hurrying after taxis or packing yourself into a crowded train. it doesn't smell like the city either. also, the internet connection is horrible. you spend your first few minutes in this town trying to get proper reception while you wait to be picked up. it's only two weeks, though. you're certain it will go by quickly.

skully is…still strange. you were never really close when you lived in the same house. he kept to himself just as you did, but right now he’s immensely welcoming. he carries your bags, offers to show you around town, and seems so pleased you've come to visit for the holidays. your step-parent notes he spent an absurd amount of time cleaning up the guest room just for you, but skully just flusters and babbles about how it's only right to treat a dear guest with hospitality. there's even a vase of pretty flowers waiting for you on the bedside table when you enter the tidy room.

you're not very thrilled to be here, but you content yourself with the fact that it's only two weeks. skully has a long list of things he'd like to do with you while you're here. you're not sure what you can possibly do in a town this small other than look at the same trees and meet the same townsfolk over and over, but anything's better than boredom.

you fall asleep in that old, creaky cabin that never seems to settle, and your dreams are filled with macabre imagery. claws scraping at the door in angry, jagged crisscrosses, as if something wishes to get in. frostbitten corpses frozen in permanent poses of agony. a faceless, shapeless monster lurking in shadows. and cold. so much cold. snow. ice. frozen lakes. you even wake cold, shivering even though the blankets are thick and warm. it's too quiet and too dark when you look out your window. no civilization in sight unlike in the city, where there are plenty of people and buildings and traces of humanity.

out here, the people hardly use their phones and it feels so old-fashioned and it's cold.

skully doesn't like it when you talk about divorce. he's still hopeful that your parents will mend their frayed bond and then you can all live under one roof again. :D you can only roll your eyes: "they're basically divorced already. maybe not legally, but definitely physically and emotionally." skully frowns at that, refusing to argue your point further. when you continue onwards down the dirt path, bundled in a woolen coat and wrapped up in a scarf (a gift from skully), you miss the way his expression sours. the way his orange eyes cloud over.

skully tells you they find bodies in the woods all the time. accidents. murders. suicides. "a forest is like an ocean," he says conversationally while the two of you stroll parallel to a dense treeline. "sometimes you happen upon things that just don't belong. things you don't expect to find in the vastness."

that night, you're tossing and turning again. your sleep schedule has been a wreck ever since you came here and you're almost certain this cabin is haunted because you keep feeling sensations that aren't there. like a whisper of breath on your neck or a hand on your cheek. and something's moving around in your room or beneath your bed or just outside the door at night. something from the forest, maybe? a monster? one of the many restless spirits left to wander aimlessly, never to know peace? you bring it up with skully the following morning: "do you ever feel...watched?"

he smiles around a mug of hot chocolate. "of course not. we drive malevolent spirits away every halloween. there's nothing that can bother you here. aah, if only you could have been here during halloween. it's simply wonderful! you must come next year."

somehow you aren't satisfied with this response, but skully's sliding a mug your way and suddenly any thoughts of local haunts disperse from your mind.

supposedly, chamomile tea aids in sleep. hoping to get at least one good night's rest while you're here, you purchase some from the market with skully when you go on a grocery run for your parent. "there's something so beautifully quaint about shopping together!" he notes, perusing a stall of various winter fruits. "it's very intimate. wouldn't you agree?"

"sure, i guess," you reply with a shrug, not quite understanding the point he's trying to make. maybe that's exactly the point: you're never going to understand him and his unusual ideals. "but isn't that why people spend quality time with one another?"

skully beams and plucks a frostbitten flower from a nearby bouquet, tucking the beautiful blossom behind your ear. "we have similar thoughts, you and I."

do we really?

you make yourself a cup of chamomile, bundle up in the warmest sweater you packed, and drink in front of a crackling fire. skully's sat at the kitchen table, scribbling away in a book and humming to himself. you asked him about it before and he told you it was "a catalogue of daily musings. nothing of great importance." you wonder what he writes about in there... probably stuff about how wonderful jack skellington is, a figure revered in this little cult town. you've never heard of him, but he seems interesting from what skully's told you.

miraculously, you drift off in the armchair, and you sleep through the night, enveloped in sweet, sugary warmth. your dreams are pleasant, too. it's the best night's sleep you've ever had.

skully asks if you like it here. his definition of 'like' is very different from yours, but you decide to humor him anyway. "it's a fine town," you say even though just the other day you were trying (and failing) to text your friends about how unsettling this place is. how life here is just so different from the city. you can't explain it, but if you stay here any longer you think they might accuse you of being a witch next with your city slang and fancy technology box (phone). "the atmosphere and the town are both very cute. it's like a little dollhouse when it's all dressed up and festive like this."

"what a flattering description! as expected, you view the world through the eyes of a poet, seeing loveliness in every little thing," he praises, holding his hands over his chest and swooning.

you feel just a little lovelier now that your sleep schedule is fixed, so you're inclined to agree.

usually, the chamomile knocks you out for the entire night. this time, though, you've awoken to a ghost. you crack your eyes open and slowly but surely shake the heavy sleepiness off. something's on top of you, holding you down in bed, their fingers cold and bony like the ones in your nightmares. you shift slightly, and the ghost freezes, still and silent as death. in the shadows, a pair of eyes search for your face.

a mouth at your ear. something stiff prods at your thigh. "shh," the ghost murmurs. "go back to sleep."

somehow you do. you feel warm again, cradled in the fluffiest of dreams. there's an encroaching coldness, though, a frigid draft threatening to creep in. you sleep through it. you'll talk to skully about it tomorrow.

maybe some ghosts aren't banished during halloween.

maybe some ghosts are made of flesh and blood.

[zunibugsiren]

Uprising Chapter 2

The morning light brushed Annie’s eyelids, causing them to flutter.

As she came to Annie felt a heavy weight on her midriff.

She looked down to see a deep side part on the smooth waves of her husband. His mustache tickling the top of her breasts. His breathing deep and calm.

She smoothed a hand down to stroke his face. His strong prominent eyebrows to his smooth cheekbones, her hand moved to the center of his face to his beautiful wide nose, and slowly down to his mustache. 

He was back home and she couldn’t believe it.

She pressed on his mustache then lowered her finger down to play with his cupid’s bow then mouth.

Her thoughts ran back to last night. His desperation. His care.

“You gon’keep playing with my mouth?”

Annie moved her hand back quickly as if she had been shocked. She slapped his arm.

“Stop it!”

Smoke lifted his head from her bosom, smiling, looking deep into her eyes before leaning down, looking into her eyes, waiting for her permission to kiss her.

Annie recoiled and said, “My breath ain’t fresh.”

“And neither is mine. I want to kiss my woman.” 

She gave him an imperceptible nod.

He leaned down and kissed her softly before pressing his tongue into her mouth.

As their tongues danced, Annie felt Smoke’s dick press into her thigh.

She pulled back. “We got to get ready for the mornin’.”

Smoke followed her head, his brows furrowing, “I just came back and I want to spend some time with you.”

Annie pushed him off her. Some time during the night Smoke slipped out of her and his seed slowly pulled out of her and onto the bed. Her entire mons was pasted with his seed, making her all sticky. She pulled up the top of her dress, covering her bosom then pulled down the rest.

“More like in me.”

“That too.”

Annie looked back at him sharply. 

“Get yo’ ass up, we need to get clean.”

Smoke pulled himself off the bed quickly and put on his pants. Not bothering with the button, his pants sat dangerously low as he gathered his clothes, folding them on the dresser. He reached for a cigarette Stack had previously prepared for him and lit it, taking a deep hit as he reached for his guns. He watched as Annie stepped outside into the bathing shack, leaving the door open for him to watch.

She knew he needed to see her at all times. 

He watched as she scrubbed her body down with the lye soap, the sight of her in the flesh and the drag of the cigarette eased his senses.

She finished quickly, dressing with a fresh set of clothes before lathering her body down with oils.

He walked to his car as she walked back into the cabin. He reached for his bag of clothes and quickly took a thorough bath.

As he walked back to Annie’s cabin, Smoke saw a car tumble down the road. Annie stepped out of the cabin to watch the newcomer.

As the car came closer and closer, Smoke was able to get an outline of the people in the car. He pulled his hand away from his 45 as he saw Sammie and Stack pull up.

Sammie hopped out of the car before Stack turned it off.

“You grew, that’s for sure.”

Sammie’s grin widened as he leaned over for a hug.

Sammie saw Annie’s form close to the door of her cabin and walked up the steps to give her a hug.  He started talking to her.

Stack pulled the keys out, walking up to Smoke,  his brows furrowed.

Smoked stepped closer. Something was wrong.

“We have a situation back home.”

Without a word, Smoked turned to say his goodbyes to Annie to promise his swift return, but before Smoke could, Stack grabbed his arm.

“Bring Annie. We gon’ need her.”

Smoke lowered his voice.

“What happened? Tell me now, cause Annie ain’t goin nowhere until I know.”

Stack sucked his teeth, his jaw tight as he contemplated how to best explain to his brother what he saw. 

“Folks been having trouble when they get close to the tree. It seems to get worse the closer they come by Momma’s grave. There was a problem this morning.”

Stack came closer, lowering his voice in Smoke’s ear.

“Just this morning an ant pile popped up in front of Momma’s grave. It ain’t no normal pile either. Them fire ants are big. And they follow my voice.”

“What?”

“The pile was getting bigger and bigger by the minute. Folks’ talkin’. We need to go now.”

Smoke turned to see Annie and Sammie talking.

“Sammie, go inside and get my things.”

Annie’s face hardened as she asked, “Where you goin’?”

Smoke softened his eyes and subdued his voice. 

“I’m here to stay, baby. I need to check on somethin’ and need your expertise on a situation we got.”

Annie’s face couldn’t contain her shock, and soon her shock turned into an incredulous dry snicker.

“Smoke, you don’t believe in none of the stuff I do, whatchu talkin’ about my expertise? Don’t play wit me.”

“I ain’t playin. It’s somethin’ weird goin'. It scared Stack and you know Stack don’t get scared like that.”

Annie’s eyes zoned in on her brother-in-law. His eyes were already on hers. They had a complicated history, with Smoke bending over backwards for him no matter what. He was part of the reason Smoke left. That and the loss of their daughter. There was a part of her that still resented him for that, but he was her brother-in-law, and there was some love there.

“Alright, I’m comin'. Let me get a couple of things.”

Smoke’s face smoothed out.

“I appreciate it, baby.”

“Mmmhmm.”

Annie walked over to her shack to gather some supplies. Sammie exited her cabin, bag full of Smoke’s stuff and one of his guns.

He was playing with one and asked Smoke, “When you goin’ teach me to shoot?”

“Put that down ‘fore you hurt yourself!”, Smoke barked at him. Stack bit his lip to stop from laughing.

Hearing the bass in his cousin’s voice, Sammie quickly put the gun back in its place.

Stack pulled himself away from the porch and hopped in the car, putting the key in the ignition.“Put that in the back and get in.”

Sammie placed the bag in the back as he hopped in the back of the car.

Smoke hopped in the passenger seat and immediately started asking questions.

“Sammie, when did this start?”

“Y’all’s plot been weird since you left. It was little things at first. People be thinkin they see stuff when nothin’s there. They be hearin’ people too. Years went by and this mornin’ we find an ant hill with ants I ain’t ever seen ‘fore.”

Sammie explained, scared straight.

“Mmhmm.”

Smoke’s eyes panned to Annie’s form as she finished getting the last of her supplies from her shack.. 

Annie walked to the car, and Smoke hopped out, opened her door and offered her his hand to her.

Annie took his hand and eased into the car.

Smoke opened the passenger seat and sat down before knocking on the car door twice.

Without a word, Stack sped down the beaten road back to their home and back to where it all began. 

[somnambuletta]

erysichthon of thessaly - 'man's' hunger

(domestic jack/lamb won the poll - followed by brian/hoodie headcannons.. in which will come.)

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

"king erysichthon devoured himself"

you were curled beneath the coarse fabric of jack's blanket(s), the threadbare things that once must have been navy and some childhood relic, but faded to a quiet grey with time and neglect. his chest rose and fell slowly under the warmth of your weight, the steady rhythm of your pumping couer deepening his breaths- each word that passed from your lips.

the book was old- tattered pages, stained with ink and the passage of time. greek myths, ones of gods and mortals, the kind of stories that spilled from your mouth like soft prayers. a voice that could almost turn the myth into something living, something real, something fragile. yet here, in the dwell of jack's cabin- his little shack of peeling wood and cracked windows- you spoke them aloud (..'allowed'). a lullaby, though you weren't sure if it would comfort him, or fuel his inanition.

you'd turn the page with a quiet rustle, and his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. his phalanges brushed the back of your neck, fingertips and claws rough against your skin. jack was awake, but he never moved- only listening. you could almost hear his pulse beneath the growl of his chest- thick bass gurgling in his raspy voice-box. an unspoken warning- like a predator who did not know how to be still, but tried to anyways.

"erysichthon.. he ate, and ate. his hunger was never sated.."

the ink is a thumbtack in your temple, and a bitter tension gripped at your chest. in the libretto, there was something that resonated deep in the pit of your stomach. perhaps understanding. jack's hunger, too, would never end. but the hunger he felt was not of the flesh- instead, of something far darker. something you would never fully relate to, no matter how many nights you spent like this- curled in his arms like how the lamb lay in hay the night that jesus was born.

he shifted slightly, just enough for his talons to skim down your spine. there was a pause, like he was considering whether to speak or not; but he didn't- simply, he let the silence grow. the fire crackled wimpishly in the corner of the room, restrained to its hearth and not quite reaching the tips of your toes in which peered from beneath the caress of frankenstein's own quilt. (various pieces, sewn together in patchwork; baby initials in the corner. J.N). you could smell the faint scent of ash and dust in the air, mixing with the lingering detergent off his clothing.

"he devoured himself, and there was nothing left. he ate his fingers... his hands.. till he was hollow inside." you didn't want to think about it- about the unpleasant way his hunger mirrored the myths, how jack could devour things whole, both himself and others. but it was hard not to. hard not to see the parallels when i-spy was a game you two had since stopped playing- and waldo had been found; a carcass in the woods with his intestines out in long balloons.

jack's chest rumbled again, and this time you felt it in your bones; a quiet vibration that tickled the air between you both. it was a kind of purr, not one born of kindness- but of a large feline who was content with what it had managed to catch for its meal. something amused. partially mocking- partially cruel. something aware. he knew. he knew what you were thinking, the quiet horror threading through your voice as you read.

his fingers, which had been resting just idly on your back, began to move. just slightly. another slow, deliberate stroke against your spine- and your breath hitched as he moved to let the sound resonate from his jugular, into your ear. he didn't have to speak to tell you what he wanted:

put it down.

.. a second passed, and then another.

another. you turned the page, stubborn.

he exhaled a quiet laugh against your skin. and then, with no subtility, his hand closed over yours, falcon claws slipping beneath the book's spine. not rough, not demanding. just decisive. enough.

the book was plucked from your grasp and set aside, the pages fluttering shut.

"you have read more than your share, lamb." jack murmured, voice rough with something unreadable. you swallow, pulse flickering in your throat.

his arm curled around you, nuzzling his maw into the nest of wool on your head, pressing a gentle kiss against your scalp.

"i don't want my ewe getting scared." he hushes, his voice softer now. and, you do not answer. couldn't.

not when you are left wondering, if there was ever a time that erysichthon had felt full.

[bunnybrews]

the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.