#or cabin or shack or something

[clamorybus]

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

[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.

[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!

[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 !

[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.”  

[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.

[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.

[fryingpan1234567]

some CHB headcanons

every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are

Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor

the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground

the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting

the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting

Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons

ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS

they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post

before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp

if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile

when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot

because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah

cabins competing for who shows the most pride

Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers

Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)

Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin

I could make a whole post about CHB pride but

every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me

Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school

Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all

Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan

Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol

Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)

the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with

the seven are AVID Smash Bros players

really everyone but

not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help

the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then

the Romans swear on few occasions

the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite

the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time

the Egyptians never swear (in English)

for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery

well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out

he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.

Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”

that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history

some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards

Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends

[cemeteryspider]

Family Fragments Part 1

Stanford Pines x Child! Reader

*No use of Y/n* *Fem Reader*

Summary: Flashback~ Ford must protect you, his innocent daughter, from becoming an unwilling pawn in the sinister schemes of an Interdimensional demon.

Trigger Warnings: Possession, Child Endangerment (thanks Bill), Psychological Manipulation, Mild Violence

Word Count: 1.1k

You shifted in your father's arms as he pushed through doors and walked through hallways from the basement of his shack in the woods into your room in the attic. You barely registered him tucking you into your bed and him kissing you on the forehead with his heavily chapped lips.

"Good night, Sweet pea," He whispered and the door clicked behind him. 

A loud tired sigh echoed in the short stairwell down to the foyer. The descent down the staircase was heavy and creaky and when he came to the door in the basement he widened his eyes and allowed the retinal scanner to scan his eye confirming he was not possessed by Bill. He couldn’t help the yawn that escaped his lips as he entered the basement, cluttered with half-finished devices- scattered wires and gears glinting under the dim flickering light bulb hanging overhead.The unfinished portal stood tall in front of him humming a just so a he felt a soft vibration through the soles of his shoes. 

He sat down at the workbench and resumed writing in the third journal. Drawing the new suit he was designing to keep Bill out of his mind for good, however there was the small problem of the brain he needed to complete the thing. However, his mind drifted to the mind erasing gun in the hand of the suit which reminded him of his old friend, who left him alone to work with his muse months ago. 

Then he heard a not so subtle knocking coming from upstairs. At first he thought it was some random drunk knocking at the door and letting the person get bored of the odd old cabin in the woods, but after a succinct series of thuds and a hushed laughter he decided to investigate.

He breathed a sigh of relief—at least Bill couldn't sneak his way down there, not without triggering the failsafes. But as he looked up, his heart stopped. There you were, standing in the foyer, eyes glowing an unnatural yellow and a smile far too wide for your little face. It was a sight so wrong, so unsettling, that Ford could barely bring himself to speak.

Your limbs jerked awkwardly, like a marionette pulled by unseen strings, controlled by a puppeteer who lacked all finesse, "Hey, sixer!"

He stood frozen for a moment. Bill's voice coming from your mouth where your sweet little voice should have been, he swallowed a lump in his throat and forced himself to speak, "What are you doing here Bill?" 

Bill grinned, twisting your lips into a mockery of a smile, "I just came by to see you and it seems as though you've taken certain... precautions to make sure I don't interrupt your research."

A chill went down Stanfords spine, his research into the Anti-Cipher Society, and the plans for the suit I had designed, "Let's talk face to face, Cipher. No need to bring my daughter into this."

"I suppose I could end our contract a bit earlier than I intended," And with that your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, and your scaleras the correct color once more. Quickly Ford ran toward you and stopped your descent before hitting the ground.

Bill floated around looking at the different furniture with great fascination, "What is wrong with you, she's just a child."

He cradled your head while you continued your sleep, "Yeah, quite a while since I made a deal with something so small, very difficult to control such small limbs. Painful falling down the stairs don't you think?"

His eyebrows rose and looked over your head moving your hair around, checking for any blood or bruising that could indicate a head wound or concussion.

Stop being such a stick in the mud, Sixer,' Bill sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. 'She’s perfectly fine…for now.' His tone darkened, and Ford’s blood ran cold as he watched Bill shift, his form flickering like a faulty lightbulb.

Ford clutched you tightly to his chest, his heart pounded erratically in his ribcage, "I think it's time for you to leave."

"Nothing more for me to do here, but just you wait I think I will see you again, real soon," With that the cabin seemed to gain its color back and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Dad?" You whispered after a rather large yawn. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at hearing your darling voice. His fingers trembled as they wrapped themselves around your small frame, almost as if you would slip right through his grasp into the nightmarish darkness Bill brought in. For a moment, he pressed his nose to the top of your head and breathed in your familiar scent, desperate to remind himself that you were here with him- still his little girl. A surge of guilt tightened his chest. 

"Everything's going to be okay, Sweet Pea just go back to sleep." And you did. For so long he had stayed awake for as long as possible trying to avoid Bill gaining control of his body he forgot about you. A child with little contact with the outside world, and how easily children can be persuaded by older wiser beings. Bill is a master manipulator and Ford practically opened the door to your mind by inviting him into his. 

Despite the distance he forced Bill to keep from you, he had been in his mind. Combed through his memories his happiest being with Stan in his earlier years, and with you in the present. You never were far from his thoughts and Bill knew his weak spot.

He could pull his own hair from his scalp at his own negligence, scream at the top of his lungs for the danger that he put you in, or cry at the worry he felt after learning of your tumble down the stairs caused by someone he once called his friend. However, he did none of those things.

Once he had tucked you in for a second time, Ford sank into the old chair beside your bed. The springs groan under his weight, the leather cracked and worn from years of use. He stared at you for a long moment, watching your chest rise and fall as you slept peacefully. It made his heart ache. How innocent you looked, under a heap of soft blankets, completely unaware of the danger that lurked just beyond your dreams. A dim lamp casting a light golden glow across the room that seemed like a fragile barrier against the dark shadow Bill Cipher cast on this night. 

Ford’s hand shook as he plucked a pen from your desk and opened the journal he had tucked in his coat pocket, the ink bleed slightly as he pressed it to the parchment. He wrote furiously, his mind racing with all sorts of plans, but one thought rang through: I can’t let him take her. Not my daughter.

[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

______________________________________________

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…)

______________________________________________

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

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, smut

Chapter 7:

“What is there to do around here, baby?” Coryo asked, since he didn't feel like going back to your house to deal with your family, as the two of you cuddled on the bench in the town square after finishing your breakfast.

Honestly, he didn't like your family. For a bunch of dirt poor miners, they sure do act like they're better than him. And that pisses him off.

“Not much.” You simply reply.

“Ah.” Coryo nods. “Well, is there something we can do to kill some time before we have to go back to your house?” Coriolanus has to stop himself from saying deathtrap shack instead of house. Ugh, the place you live in makes him shudder.

“There's a lake deep in the woods a couple hours hike from the Seam.” You tell him, earning a nod. With a smile, you carry on with, "There's a bunch of cabins scattered around it, left from the Pre-Panem days- I think.” Looking over at him, you ask, “Think we could go?”

“If you want to, I don't see why not.”

You omit the fact that sometimes the Covey goes there on Sundays.

And today's Sunday isn't it?

Hopefully you don't run into the Covey because you'd really like to spend a nice hot summer's day with Coryo at the lake.

Coriolanus hated the great outdoors and he hated the heat. Why was it so damn muggy in 12? It wasn't so hot back in the Capitol. Was 12 truly hell, is that why it's so hot?

The platinum blonde’s sweating like a pig, white T-shirt soaked with sweat, as he walks thru the woods with you, side by side. At least your carefree and bright demeanor brings a smile to his face. Even tho he's about to keel over from heat stroke at any moment, at least you're happy. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters to him.

“You'll get used to the summers here.” You assure your boyfriend with a smile while playfully tapping his shoulder with your boots.

You both took your shoes off; opting to walk barefoot what seems like endless miles ago. You convinced Coryo that the long hike would be easier on his feet if he did it barefoot. You also told him that you always hiked barefoot in the woods while going to the lake. That it was much easier on the soles of your feet.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to this heat, baby.” Sweat rolled down Coryo's neck as he slapped a mosquito on the side of his neck. “Or the damn bugs.”

“Yea, the skeeters are bad here.”

“Little bloodsuckers won't leave me alone.” Your boyfriend grumbled, smacking another bug off of his skin.

“Old saying says that skeeters are attracted to sweet blood.” You remember being told that as a little girl, before the war. You were about 4, you think. The memory’s hazy, but you think your dad told you that. But you can't remember what he looked like or anything truly about him to save your life.

“Sweet blood? Oh, darling, that's silly.” Coryo chuckles. Dripping an arm over your shoulders, he presses a kiss to your temple and tells you, “Come on, show me to this lake of yours.”

Coriolanus was surprised at how beautiful the lake looked as the thick woods gave way to a clearing where crystal blue water, a dock, and scattered cabins could clearly be seen. It felt so serene, like a scene out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.

He never thought that something so breathtakingly beautiful could be found in the backwater District 12. But, yet again, he found you in the coal mining shithole, didn't he? Perhaps there are some rare hidden gems in 12.

“Come on, Coryo. Let's go swimming.” You tell your boyfriend, dragging him out of the woods, by a cabin, and over to the dock.

“Do you swim here often, darling?” Coriolanus asks as you come to a stop at where the grass meets the edge of the wooden dock.

“Yea, but not as much as I'd like to.” You answer while you and Coriolanus drop your boots on the ground.

Coryo just nods, quickly pulling off his t-shirt while you pull off your dress. He's slipping out of his denim jeans when you start running down the dock in your bra and panties. He'd rather you be naked, but he doesn't mind seeing you in your underwear. “Just can't wait for me, huh?” Your boyfriend asks, taking off in a run after you.

Giggling, you look over your shoulder as you run faster down the dock. A big smile breaks over both your face and Coryo's as he chases you towards the edge. It's a fun little game of cat and mouse. A game that you win by jumping into the water before the platinum peacekeeper can reach you.

Coryo lets out a genuinely joyful laugh at seeing you jump into the water, causing it to ripple and splash up. Seeing you happily swim in the water, looking up at him with a huge smile, made Coriolanus' heart beat a thousand miles a minute. He couldn't help, but to fall even more obsessively in love with you as he watches you lazily splash in the water, waiting for him to join you.

Coryo ran to the end of the long dock, only to cannonball into the water. Water splashed high up into the air as your boyfriend's body broke the water’s surface; entering the cool cerulean liquid. When his platinum buzzed head pops out of the water, he quickly blinks his icy eyes open and smiles wide when he sees you staring at him.

He swims over to you, only to take you in his arms and break the spell he seems to have over you. Coryo leans in, kissing you sweetly. He smiles into the kiss, causing you to do the same.

Breaking the kiss, Coryo pulls his head back slightly and grins. He begins swimming, leading you further away from the dock. His baritone’s nostalgic as he tells you, “The last time I went swimming was for my gym class at the Academy, back in the Capitol. It's nice to be doing it again and with you, baby.”

“Your school’s gym had a pool in it?” You ask in disbelief, swimming alongside Coryo.

“Yes,” Your boyfriend nods. “It's under the floor and the floor’s cranked open for use of the pool.” Coryo splashes some water at you while chuckling, “But it's getting an upgrade since Strabo Plinth, Sejanus' father, bribed the dean with a new gym to make sure that we both got our diplomas.”

“But why wouldn't you get your diplomas? You both had good grades, right?”

“We screwed with the games.” Coriolanus answers before splashing water in your face to distract you from thinking up anymore questions about his fall from grace. He told you enough about Lucy Gray and his cheating allegation yesterday; today's a new day he wants to enjoy with you.

As long as you're by his side he feels happier, powerful, and like he can do everything in the world.

After swimming for a while, you and Coryo ended up sitting on the dock together. The sun’s kissing your skin, drying it, as you and Coryo dangle your feet over the dock’s edge. Actually, your feet's dangling while his toes skim the water's surface.

You're sitting side by side, just looking at the crystal clear water, the treeline, and the scattered cabins from a time before Panem had exited.

“It's so beautiful here, baby.” Turning his head to look at you, he smiles, “Thank you for sharing this spot with me, it means a lot.”

“You're welcome.” You smile in return. “There's not many beautiful places in 12, but this lake and the meadow behind my street are some of the few ones you'll find.”

“Everything's beautiful in the Capitol.” Coriolanus says matter of factly. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing close to his side, he kisses your temple and promises, “I'm going to show you the beauty of the Capitol; all of my favorite places once we get the chance to go back.”

You want to believe Coriolanus, you really do, but you also don't want to give your hopes up. The probability that you and Coriolanus will be able to go to the Capitol is, in your opinion, slim to none. You don't want to burst your boyfriend's bubble tho. Not when he seems in such good spirits.

So, you just force out a weak smile. “That sounds like fun, Coryo.”

“Once I pass that exam and become an officer, things’ll start looking up for us.” Coriolanus says, his conviction as sure as stone. “With hard work I'll be able to move up high enough in the ranks to get us back to the Capitol.”

“What if it takes your entire 20 years of service to do that, Coryo?” You wonder as the birds fly around in the blue sky above.

“It won't take that long, my darling rose.” The platinum peacekeeper assures you with a charming smile.

“But what if it does?” You press, wanting to hear your boyfriend's response on the possibility of being stuck in a district for two decades without being able to visit his beloved Capitol despite becoming an officer.

“It won't, baby.” Coriolanus told you before explaining his confident answer with, “My father was a general; was the Commander here during the war. He was able to come and go between his post and the Capitol before he was a general, back when he was just a lower officer.”

Yes, you remember your brother making a remark about Coryo's father being General Crassus Snow. Perhaps your boyfriend has more of an insight on the inner workings of the peacekeepers then you thought he did?

Coryo rubs his thumb into your shoulder, since his hand’s resting on it. “So, I think they'll let me take a furlough to the Capitol with you once I become an officer.”

You don't say a word, just nod as the platinum blonde's words wash over you. You let them sink in, swim in your mind just like your body has swam in the cool water mere moments ago. Coriolanus’ words flood over you, in a way that causes you to understand that being with the Capitolite peacekeeper’s life changing.

“You'd really take me with you to the Capitol for your furlow, Officer Snow?” You asked, doe eyes hopeful as you and your boyfriend locked eyes.

“Of course, I'm taking you, Y/N.” Coryo assures you. His icy eyes roam over your form possessively, taking in every inch of your radiance as he utters in a proprietorial baritone, “You're my girl; I want to show you off to my family during furloughs.” Of course he did, he's so obsessed with you; thinks that he owns you and has to have his family know that. Pictures sent thru the mail can only show off your beauty that rivals that of sunshine and roses. Coriolanus wants Grandma'am and Tigris to meet you, so he can make sure they know that you're now apart of the Snow family; has him enchanted under a spell of love and vice versa.

“I hope your family's friendlier to me than mine is towards you.” You blurt out, watching the reeds around the lake dance slightly in the breeze.

Cattails are bending low and springing back up, over and over again around the water’s edge. “Grandma’am and Tigris will love you because I love you, plus l you're as bright as sunshine- they could never be hostile with you, baby.” Coryo assures you with a knowing glint in his eyes- eyes that are as crystal clear as the cerulean lake at.

It feels as if one minute your sitting on the dock with Coryo and the next he's leaning against a tree trunk, bark digging into his back, as he looks out at the serene scene that's the lake and the long, wooden dock in the middle of it, as your naked bodies grind onto each other. His face is buried in your tits as he kisses, licks, and bites them while bucking his hips up; making your mewl breathily as his long, thick cock hits your cervix with every bouncing movement you make on top of him.

“That’a girl, baby. You're doing so good riding my cock.” Coriolanus grits thru clenched teeth, fighting the urge to flip you onto your back and piledrive into you hard and fast to empty his cum heavy balls. But, he's a man of his word when it comes to you and he did promise you to let you control the pace; to take the lead on top. It's the least he could do after losing control and pushing you too hard last night.

“Coryo…” Your voice trembles as you feel a lightning bolt go up your spine and the feel of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves deep inside of your tight, wet cunt.

“You're close, baby.” Coryo observes between leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses on the top of your boobs. Pulling his head back to look into your eyes, he smirks while sinfully saying, “Can feel it by how your pretty cunt's clenching around my cock, sucking it in with a velvety vice grip.”

“So close, Coryo.” You agree, feeling the knot tightening in your stomach, as you dig your nails into his shoulders- using them as leverage to go up and down faster on his dick.

Coryo wants nothing more then to roughly grab and spank your ass as you quickly bounce up and down on his lap, but he knows that you aren't ready for that yet. It's only your second time fucking and after last night- well…let's just say that he'd rather you think he's a gentle lover for a wee bit longer before he shows his true colors.

Because when he shows his true colors it'll be too late for you to leave him- if you dared. You'd be too much in love with him, too entwined with his soul to ever leave.

So, Coryo opts to bring the pad of his calloused thumb to your clit to help you get off faster instead. He rubs your swollen pearl hard and fast, causing your hips to snap quicker and quicker until you're a babbling mess- crying out his name as you cum with a harsh gush around his cock. Your spasming cunt's milking him dry and before he can control himself, Coryo holds your hips and bucks up into you a couple of times before cumming with a groan; your name on the tip of his tongue.

You go to get off of his lap, but Coryo holds you still by firmly digging his fingers into your hip bones. “Just let me stay inside you for a while, okay?” He asks, needing to feel your warmth around him. Just being connected, all snug and cozy, is a calming balm to the darkness that threatens to overthrow his heart.

“Okay.” You softly smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Your fingers trace patterns over his dog tags as his chest rises and falls beneath your touch.

Coryo’s gazing longingly, lovingly, and obsessively at you while running his calloused fingertips up and down your spine. His touch his barely there, ghost like, but it makes goosebumps appear on your skin all the same.

So, in the late afternoon by the lakeside the girl made of sunshine and roses is caressed and worshiped by the boy made of moonlight and violets.

But Coriolanus was always drawn to roses, perhaps it's because his mother smelled like them once upon a time, but you being as friendly as the sun and as beautiful as a rose is what's damned you to be by his side for the rest of your life.

But you'll enjoy being tethered to him by a suffocating vine, a vine that’ll wrap all around you and keep you bound to his soul. At least the icy eyed young man plans to spoil you with all the luxuries the Capitol has and will condition you to turn your back on the scum you call neighbors and embrace the elite Capitolites he calls ‘friends’.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[misfit-mania-the-first]

I’ve been wondering how Ford went from the nervous teen in high school to the extremely egotistical but somehow still awkward old man we all know and love today and I just realized

It was the night Stan was kicked out.

Can you imagine how Filbrick acted? How he talked to Ford like he was the only one who could do anything in their family? That Stan was the screwup and was always holding him back? Mama could have said some stuff too, but I think she would be mostly preoccupied with taking care of shermie.

And then Ford goes to college and with every roadblock, every difficulty, every little thing that reminds him he’s not at his dream college gets blamed on Stan and Filbrick just won’t stop talking about it.

And when Ford gets to the shack, and he has the cabin built by Manly Dan and meets Bill, Bill makes it a thousand times worse. He literally gets into his mind, convinced him that he is the only one Bill could ever contact, the only one smart enough.

And he probably says something about Stan too, about their deteriorated relationship. When the portal progress slows down, Bill wonders of Stan’s interference would have done something to cause that.

Ford still deep down loves Stan and trusts him. Which is why he called Stan to take the book. But because of his own ego he was too possessive of the book, and wouldn’t let Stan burn it.

Then he was sent through the portal, content with never going back and still simmering at Stan. When he does come back, after thirty years of being on the run and committing crimes JUST LIKE STAN he is…Upset. Angry.

Absolutely Furious, because he had accepted he would never return, that he would always be stuck drifting in between dimensions. And now he has to actually deal with Bill, deal with the consequences of his own actions. Of how much he pushed away Stan.

And he just pushes him away even more.

[astronnova]

one thing i love abt gravity falls is how the mystery shack is a character of its own. this nice log cabin in the woods originally built to be kept a secret and away from prying eyes, housing only one lonely man becomes such a staple of the town thats home to so many. i wonder how ford feels, after weirdmageddon, seeing dipper, mabel, soos, wendy, their friends, and of course stan just take up space in whats technically his house. how lived in its become, how theres always racket in one part of the house because theres always someone up to something.

like... its his house, but its stan's home

[lotties-ashwagandha]

OUR OWN KINGS AND GODS (nsfw)

(adult) lottie matthews x reader (gender neutral but afab), word count 2k

after an argument with lottie, she shares her anxieties with you over a bottle of rum, and in the late hours of the night you find solace in each other’s arms. set post season two finale, but no hunt au (you'll see what i mean). this took me so long to write pls interact/comment/reblog if u enjoy it :(

You have never seen her like this — tired, defeated. Usually such a source of peace, of joy, but as she stands before you, her love for the world is gone. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again – the third time – breaking the silence that has seemed unending. “It’s been a hard day.” 

You nod. You forgive her, as you always do. Even as the sting of her words still digs into you, still has your hands shaking with words of unspoken fury. You hardly ever get in arguments with Lottie, but when you do, it breaks you both.

“Say something,” she asks. You shrug. You clear your throat, try to swallow the knot building inside it. 

It had started early in the morning. Lottie had left the wellness center without telling you, without leaving a note and without taking her phone that she kept for emergencies when she usually left the compound. When she returned you had been calm about it — it wasn’t worth starting anything over. Yet she had been abandoning you frequently all day, sparing no words for you that weren’t sharp. You finally confronted her about it and she had denied you an explanation. She claimed that she needed space. That you were being clingy. She weaponized ways she knew would hurt you and took pride in it when they did. You knew how to reach her, too — hours you had spent sniping at each other just to see who would be the first to fall. 

“Tell me next time,” you say, “if something’s bothering you.” 

Her anxiety — that’s what she had told you caused the dispute. It’s what caused her to abandon you for the day and deny you entry to her mind. She was overwhelmed. You believed her, but you also believed it was more than that. It was the anniversary of the crash. 

Lottie stands before you still. She agrees to your request that she open up next time. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” she tells you. Her voice has become hoarse from all the yelling. 

You take her hands in yours. I know. You trail your thumbs over her knuckles and meet her gaze. “I want to move on from it.” 

She nods. She closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. “I do, too.” 

The tension begins to dissipate from the silence, yet the kitchen still feels stuffy. The whole house feels tainted by anger. 

“I can’t be in here anymore,” you say. “I’m going outside to get some air.” 

“Hold on,” Lottie orders. You sigh, but wait. She takes a bottle of rum from the counter and comes back. 

“I can hardly stomach rum.” 

“No one can stomach rum.” 

You smile at that. It seems to endear her. Slowly the two of you are becoming more regulated. 

Lottie leads you outside. You take in the fresh air, look up at the dark sky and your clear view of the stars. It’s one of the perks of being out so far from the rest of society at the wellness center, that you’re so connected to the natural world. 

“Come on,” she calls, and you realize Lottie hasn’t stopped walking. You jog a little to catch up to her. 

“Where are we going? It’s late, everyone’s in bed already. We can’t leave.” 

“We aren’t leaving,” she keeps walking. “But I’m not sitting out here all night.” 

You follow in obedience. Lottie leads you to a wood cabin, and you almost laugh when you see the sign — she’s led you to the Sharing Shack. When you go inside, you let yourself drop to sit on one of the cushions surrounding a small wood table. Lottie sets the rum on it before sitting next to you. 

She sighs. Turns her gaze to you, to examine you, to try to see through you to assess your state. 

“Relax,” you tell her, because though both of you are still coming down from the fight, you can’t handle any more talk of emotions. “Everything’s okay now.” 

Lottie nods. She reaches over to give your hand a small squeeze before directing her attention to the bottle of rum. She opens it, and before you can realize you haven’t brought any glasses she takes a deep drink. 

“Does it taste better than last year’s euthanasia tea you tried to get everyone to drink?” You joke. You know it’s cruel, but you can’t help but remember the last time you were in this cabin at night — the rest of the Yellowjackets, how you hardly averted hunting each other through the woods. 

Lottie falters. She sets the bottle down, she can’t meet your eyes. You realize instantly how horrible it was to bring it up, to joke about it. 

“I didn’t mean it like—”

“I know how you meant it,” she says blankly. Her tone is empty. 

Silence. You take the bottle of rum in your hands and swallow as much as you can in one gulp. 

You watch as Lottie stands and closes the curtains. She craves privacy just as you do — the rest of the wellness center doesn’t need to be awakened when she turns on the lamp on the table. 

Lottie rolls her head, stretching her neck. She sits down next to you again. For a while you sit in silence, passing the bottle of rum between one another until your vision starts to become distorted and your irritability begins to dissipate. 

“I never thought we would make it back,” Lottie admits quietly, unprompted. She’s silent for a moment before something changes in her expression — something raw, honest, something she feels shame in. “I didn’t really want us to make it back.” 

Why would you? You want to ask. Why would you want to waste your time in this world when you can be free? In the wilderness, we are our own kings and gods. 

“Do you still wish you hadn’t?” You ask. You’re a little afraid of the answer, but you have to know. “If you could go back right now, spend the rest of your life where you were in the wilderness, would you?” 

Lottie hesitates. She leans back to lay on her elbows, legs stretched out. Like a teenager. It takes her longer than you’d like to decide. 

“No,” she finally tells you. Her eyes meet yours. “Unless you were there with me, or you were dead.” 

You spend a moment taking in the information. You wonder what she’s seen in the wilderness, what was so beautiful in such horror to let her long for it her entire life. Your thoughts are dulled and loop in unending circles from the rum, yet she occupies all of them. 

“Would you go with me?” Lottie asks. You meet her dark eyes and witness the longing dancing in them. “I know it will never be possible, but if it was…” 

You nod. “Yes.” 

Again, your thoughts are drawn back to the last time you were here, with the Yellowjackets – the moment Lottie raised the glass of clear liquid to her lips and had been effortlessly ready for death if no one else was willing to take the fall. You consider her devotion – and you consider the devotion of her followers, those who would die for her just as readily. You realize you’re one of them. 

You realize the gift of the wilderness has not worn away over time or distance: you are free. 

You lean to her level and pull Lottie into a kiss. It takes her by slight surprise, but she recovers quickly, one of her hands weaving into your hair and pulling you to the angle she wants. Her dominance over you is asserted in the span of a second – it’s a shift you feel potently, one you welcome. 

You’ve been starved of her in conflict. Yet again she is sustaining you in the hunger of her kiss, in the control you give her liberally. You have always been hers to guide and mold. 

Lottie sits up, presses a hand to your chest and pushes you down. The discomfort of the floor is soothed by the cushions you lay on – it’s disregarded anyway as Lottie pulls away and you get a clear view of her as she sits above you. In the dimmed light of the cabin she gazes upon you like an angel, or like a god, one you have dedicated yourself to worshiping. 

Lottie pauses. 

“I did it for you,” she says in a hushed voice. You want to ask her what she means, but before you can she stands and crosses the room. You hadn’t noticed them, yet they’re set there all the same – the collection of glasses from last year, one of which had been poisoned. They are all empty now and thoroughly cleaned. One of them is missing. 

Lottie picks one of the glasses. She holds it in her hand and takes a deep breath. After a moment of examining it she comes back, takes the bottle of rum, and pours some of it into the glass. 

“I would have died for you,” she says. She takes a sip of the rum – the glass isn’t poisoned, but adrenaline runs through you as you watch her sip from it. Her gaze never parts from yours. 

You sit up again, and she sits down next to you. One of her hands comes to rest high on the back of your neck. 

“Drink,” she orders. Her voice is quiet but firm, denying her is not an option when she raises the glass to your lips. It’s intense as it travels down your throat – the warmth of it courses through your body, collecting between your thighs. A look of satisfaction comes over her when the glass is emptied. 

“Good,” she praises, and sets the glass down on the table. “You’re so good for me.” 

You bite back a whine. Lottie notices your growing desperation, she thrives in it. She pulls you to her roughly, into another kiss, one that holds promise of more than innocence. She straddles you, pushes you down so you’re laying flat again. 

You begin to fumble with your shirt – she takes it off for you and tosses it to the side. Her lips attach to your neck, biting and sucking and marking you in any way she can. You let out a moan, hear her breath hitch as you do. She moves down your chest, more gentle but just as fervent as she pulls one of your nipples into her mouth. She runs her tongue over it, hands holding you in place as you arch into her touch. You need more. She can feel it, she loves the torture. 

“Please,” you breathe, begging under her touch. Specifics are gone from your mind, just that you need her, in any and every way she would allow. 

“Please? Please, what, honey?” she asks, giving you a look as if she’s oblivious. You don’t respond as soon as she hopes, so before you can speak, Lottie kisses you – it clouds your mind as you feel her pull off your pants. Your hands find her back, yet one moves to her bicep as one of her hands travels between your legs. 

Your grip on her becomes tight as her fingers run through you, stopping to press against your clit. She moves in tight circles in response to your moan, the sudden intensity of her touch overwhelming in the best of ways. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” she asks. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” you whine, your eyes falling closed at her touch. One of her hands comes to rest at the base of your neck, and your eyes open again. 

“Look at me, darling,” she demands, and after you nod, she slides two of her fingers into you. She pumps them into you slowly at first, ensuring your adjustment before speeding her pace. Her thumb finds your clit, and you can’t hold back the string of moans that escapes you. 

“Good, let me hear you,” Lottie praises. “You’re doing so well, my love.” 

Every thought other than her, her touch, fades away. All that’s left in the world is her and all the ways you’d let her use you, all of the sacrifices you would make in her name. In the wilderness she was a prophet, and still she rules as one. 

“Breathe,” she reminds you – she could take you to the edge of death and you’d be willing if it meant a moment more of this euphoria. 

You moan, feeling yourself rush close to the edge. Lottie can feel it, the hint of a smile is present at the edge of her lips as she looks down at you. She kisses you, and you pull her as close as you can. 

“Let go for me, baby,” she allows you when she pulls out of the kiss. Her tone is gentle. “Cum for me.” 

Your body responds instantly. At her words your orgasm courses through you, and every muscle in your body tenses before letting go all at once. You can’t hear her praise as you endure, you can’t think. Your breath comes in gasps.  

When finally the pleasure subsides, Lottie pulls her touch from you. Though there’s no cushion to support her on the floor, she lays down on her side and loops her arm around your waist. The care with which she gazes at you sparks the warmth of love in your chest. You feel safe in her arms. 

Through the wilderness you would follow her if it ever came to it. She ruled as a prophet over you, and you would spill blood in devotion. Every sacrifice she wanted she could take – in the wilderness, we are our own kings and gods. 

[ooffmlsorry]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

A/N: I swear I'm gonna work on my prompt posts after this but it was unexpectedly cold today and I was not ready 😭

Your feet crunched loudly underneath you. The snow comes up to your shines, forcing you to take high trudging steps. The wind is throwing snowflakes into your face, and your tears live short liquid lives before turning to ice on your cheeks.

So far, your first experience with snow is...hell on earth.

If hell froze over, that is.

The rest of the crew were completely comfortable in the weather, but what could you expect? The navigator was a polar bear after all. Someone had said something about part of the crew being from the frigid North Blue, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.

"There's gotta be something wrong with him," you muttered into the scarf wrap around the lower half of your face. It was swampy and damp against your skin, collecting snot and condensation from your breath. Disgusting. But at least it kept your lips and nose from going numb.

The plan was to rendezvous with the rest of the crew on the other side of the island. Bepo was leading the others across, and as the next best thing to a navigator, you were to guide and stay with Law to wait for them at this shabby excuse for a cabin.

You surveyed the white wasteland outside the window. A sheet of startling blue sky loomed overhead. Speaking of Law, you turned to look at your captain just slightly behind you. You couldn't read anything on his expression, but the fact that he didn't look nearly as miserable as you told you enough.

The shack you waited in had nothing except four walls and a fireplace--trees for firewood not included.

"How do you stand this?!" You say. "I'm so cooold!" The end of your whining turns into fake sob.

"Keep your eyes ahead, y/n-ya," Law says. The slight upward pull of his lips turns the neutral resting bitch face he normally has into an amused smirk.

You exaggerate your pout, "that's all I get?! This is my first time in the snow and it's awful! I'm freezing!"

Law chuckles. "It's not my fault you were raised on a tropical island."

Law only wears his hat, a coat--the same one you remember him wearing on Punk Hazard--and a pair of gloves. He's practically naked compared to your hat, gloves, scarf, dense coat, and wool snow pants.

You sigh loudly, your shoulders slump miserably in front of you. Law watches you with a twinkle in his eyes that causes warmth to bloom across your face.

The look in his eyes belays a fondness he normally hides.

He's enjoying this.

"How long do you think it will take the others to get here?" He asks you.

Business as usual, then. You walk back over to the shack's window to observe the sky.

"There's still no sign of clouds. In fact, snow blindness might be an issue for the rest of the crew. They're walking on a plateau, far away from any slopes so they won't have to work against any winds. I'd say three hours? Maybe a little less since some of you are cold weather natives." A draft blows cold winds through the cabin, making you shudder all the way down to your toes. "I can't wait until we literally blow this popsicle stand."

Law wraps his arms around you from behind. His front flush to your back and his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Oh?"

You lean in to him and stuff his hands into your front pockets so you can hold them. Gloved fingers intertwine. You have just enough room to lovingly stroke your thumb across the back of Law's hand. A wordless thank you.

"I won't listen to you complain about how cold it is for that long." Law's voice rumbles from. "I'll warm you up."

You watch the snow drift and dance in the wind through icy windows. You never knew the ice crystals people spoke of were truly crystals, until you saw them on the window. The last time you saw the sky this blue was back on your home island. Cloudless and comfortingly blue.

"It's actually kind of pretty," you say quietly.

"It can be," Law responds. He surprises you further by pressing a kiss to your temple. "You were too busy freezing your ass off to notice."

[lady-ashfade]

Puppet Master

Percabeth x Vampie!Reader

-♡ this took a long while!! Sorry for the wait. I will not be making a part two to this, or at this moment.

-♡ words: 1k

-♡ warnings: short, vampire reader, blood, things vampires do, proof reading on this is ass, (we are batman)

@asexualaromosafezone requested this.

you barely left the shack in the forest. Most campers stayed away from you whenever you came around. from the aura around you, or that you kept a stone cold face always, everything about you kept them away. uou had no cabin, no godly parent so that was the cause of gossip and many questions between the campers.

annabeth heard a story about you when she first arrived at camp, a girl around her age came a year just before her. and she was the cause of spooky night stories used to scared the little ones like her. she was curious to say the least but had many problems to deal with, and no one was allowed near you. she saw you from time to time, you’d find yourself to the big house, stay around the camp alone and stiffen if anyone tried to talk to you. then, you’d leave as soon as the night came and she couldn’t figure where you went.

tt was like you disappeared.

percy on the other hand. as soon as he heard about you it sent a chilling shiver down his spine. luke told him a story, they had made up, that you take the souls of half bloods in the night. so he never wanted to find you and he was glad you stayed away. So naturally he found himself in front of you when you came down into camp.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and ripped out the arrow from a tree that nearly hit you, “I can’t get ahold of this thing.” he had been there a year and this was his first time seeing you. he noticed something about you that was different from him. your skin didn’t look right and like it was a few shades lighter then it should be, and he couldn’t see your eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

his body started to nervously sweat as you stare at him without moving and had no facial expression. then he heard the slightest hum from you before you continue to walk back on the path and unfazed by anything.

it’s been a few years and they grew. many quest, getting together, almost many deaths, tears, blood & sweat. you only came to mind a few times when their mind wonders. or when they saw you once a few months, if they could find you at least. it seemed the shadows favored you.

“Find the old shack in camp,” percy was told by the oracle, “you will face the lifeless inhabitant.” it always had to be something dangerous and never, “go get some ice cream.” or anything good.

he brought annabeth…not because he was scared or anything. but they had no idea what it really met, but they brought everything incase. because in every quest it seemed to go the opposite of what they thought.

three knocks was all it took for Percy’s body to run cold and almost tremble. you lived here, or so they say but the words the oracle spoke made no since to him. “face the lifeless inhabitant.” and last time he checked you were alive. Annabeth didn’t waste much time before banging onto the door to call for you of anyone who would listen.

“Go away half bloods.” that voice sounded smooth and it drawled them in. like a angel’s voice with how warm it sounded. “You’re not welcome here.” no one ever heard you speak before so they didn’t know if was you.

“Umm…I’m afraid we can’t. You see we were told to come here from the oracle, and last I checked this is the only shack in camp.” annabeth gave him a side glance before crossing her arms.

there was a minute of silence and the sound of footsteps disappearing away from the door. they were preparing to knock again or force the door open but it creaked open slowly. they slowly stepped inside with their hands ready to reach for their weapons at any moment.

the shack was well lived in and nothing like they expected. books, and a area for a small kitchen, almost victorian decor, but the only light was one candle lit in the corner. “Hello?” the girl called out for the voice they heard earlier.

a sound above them made them snap their attention upwards and nothing was seen, all the light in the room was kept way from that place. percy grabbed ahold of annabeths arm, he didn’t feel right at all. and few seconds later they had a reason to stop. a pair of glowing eyes appeared from the pitch black, and then next a pair of pointy white teeth along with it.

“You should know, bronze doesn’t hurt me.” you glanced toward Percy’s sword.

“What are you?” the boy asked but annabeth already had it figured out when she tugged at his shirt. her eyes stared at a few blood stains on the counter, a pile of bones next to it.

“No one has ever come in here, I guess you should pat yourselves on the back for that too.” your tone now amused. hooking your legs on the plank of wood and swing yourself down and they could see you better now from the light. it was in fact the girl they had seen before.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. half-bloods taste the worst to be honest. Sad tho, I heard gods taste delicious.” the wicked smirk at your lips that had your sharp teeth poking out mad the feel weird.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” percy lowered his weapon and found himself staring heavily into them.

“And your voice…” annabeth followed along side him. the couple wanted to walk closer but something was stopping them like puppets on a string.

“Oh, right,” you sighed and reached for your sunglasses to put over your eyes and you could see the pair coming back to themselves. “Sorry about that.” the power to control you never really tested out on humans or half humans, except once. ever since then you hated their taste and them to be honest.

“You can listen to my voice and it might have some effect but it wouldn’t do anything without my eyes.” you dropped down and landed perfectly before them.

“The stories are true, vampires are beautiful.” Percy spoke still somehow entranced by you.

“Maybe I should have payed more attention to you, I would have seen it from the books I’ve read.” Annabeth hated that she didn’t see it coming.

Only months will tell if they will be your puppets.

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