#the door to the basement is too far from the door to outside for good shapes

[fooltofancy]

the shape of small estates really is my villain origin story.

bastard man. enemy.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[sea-lanterns]

THE PURGE

synopsis: (slasher! AU) a group of purgers break into your home.

featuring: arlecchino, columbina, sandrone, signora

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom characters, mentions of blood, vague descriptions of murder, there is a body, mentions of weapons, home invasion, masked se.x, five.some, org.y, transfem! columbina (she has a di.ck), strap ons, oral (both reader and character receiving), face sitting, fing.ering, slight exhibitio.n, may be ooc, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion.

Unloading the last of your groceries from the car, you closed the trunk and began walking towards the front entrance of your house. It was a somewhat chilly, somewhat warm day, March 21st to be exact. While the weather was probably enjoyable to those outside of your country, today was going to be a day of misery to many. From March 21st to March 22nd, The Purge will take place; a twelve hour period in which all crime including murder was going to be legal. 

You weren’t exactly sure why your government decided to mandate such a brutal “holiday” but unfortunately as someone who didn’t participate in the Purge, this made your life a lot harder than usual. You had to take extra precaution throughout the year to not make any enemies in your life, even going as far as to shut yourself off from having any friends or close family. 

‘Just twelve hours…I’ve done it several times before, I can do it again.’ You told yourself, unlocking the door to your house. ‘I’ll have to set up the security system again. Only three hours until the Purge.’ 

“Hey neighbor!” You heard a familiar voice call, causing you to look over at your neighbor who was perched against his fence. “Three hours until the Purge, huh?” 

“Ahaha…yeah.” You were getting nervous. It was never a good idea to bring up the Purge with anyone. 

“Hope you’re prepared. Lots of psychos out there who have access to the most dangerous weapons available. I even saw a woman with a chainsaw last year. Had a leather mask and everything.”

“Yeah…” you smiled, but honestly you just really wanted to get in your house.Your neighbor –although seemingly friendly– always gave you the creeps and you tried your best to be on his good side no matter what. 

“Well…Hope for the best for you during this Purge!” He smiled unnervingly wide, making you shiver and fumble to open your door. “Yep! You too!” You called out quickly, shutting the door behind you as quickly as possible. You locked the door immediately and carried your groceries to the kitchen, where you proceeded to double check every exit of the house.

You went through the yearly ritual. Double checking the doors and barricading them with heavy furniture, locking every single window and drawing the blinds (you would activate the security systems later), as well as making your way down to the basement to make sure all your weaponry was secured. 

…And by weaponry, you really only meant the small handgun you kept in a safe down there. You weren’t a super strong person by any means, so a handgun was probably your best suited weapon when it came to defending yourself. However, the handgun was only used as a last resort, so luckily you’ve never had to use it before on any of the previous Purges. Hopefully this year you won’t have to use it still.

You grabbed the handgun and made sure it was loaded before making your way upstairs. Due to being a member of the upper class, you had managed to reinforce your home with a special security system used for keeping your home safe during the Purge. Though it was only three hours before the Purge started, you weren’t taking any chances and activated it now. 

You watched as every door and window in your house became protected beneath a large metal shutter, turning on your security cameras so you could watch whatever was happening outside from the safety of your home. You nestled into the cozy chair of your desk and mentally prepared yourself for another twelve hours of manslaughter you would have to endure. 

You watched from your phone as the infamous warning for the Purge began to play. The alarm never failed to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end, the long list of rules flying over your screen as you peeked through your security cameras. So far, the only things you could see were a bunch of hooligans setting fire to a trashcan in some random alleyway. Okay, not bad. You expected a few arsonists in your neighborhood anyway…

You grabbed a bag of chips from your snack stash and opened it, continuing to watch as you stuffed your face with food like you were binging your favorite TV show. Though the Purge was a very scary time, it never directly harmed you through all the years you survived…

At least, you thought. 

For the next two hours, you simply watched in the comfort of your own bedroom while people in your neighborhood were being slaughtered left and right. You winced when you watched a poor victim get a machete to the face by some woman in a hockey mask. Oof…that’s unfortunate. You heard another scream from afar as another victim got stabbed repeatedly with a kitchen knife by a woman wearing a ghost mask. Hm…why did they look familiar? You wonder if you’ve seen them before… 

You took a sip from your drink and laid back, before nearly jumping out of your skin upon spotting a group of Purgers on your porch. Despite being masked, you could tell from their figures that they appeared to be women, with four of them in total all staring at you through the security camera. 

‘Oh…shit.’ You felt your heart sink as you waited for them to say something, anything. You hadn’t expected any Purgers to actually bother you tonight, as the most that Purgers would do is knock over your trash cans and maybe graffiti your garage door. 

One of the Purgers —a woman wearing a dove-themed mask— stepped forward and smiled at the camera. She raised a delicate hand, before ringing the doorbell and speaking into the camera. 

“Hellooooo~ Is this (Reader)’s residence?” She sang beautifully, toying with the ends of her hair. You tried to figure out her appearance to see if she was familiar to anyone you knew or talked to, but you don’t recall ever meeting a woman with black hair and bright pink streaks. 

You stayed quiet, hoping that they would just assume you couldn’t hear them and move on. This however, didn’t work as the group of women were persistent.

“Hellooooo~ I know the cutie is in there…” The dove-masked women cooed, ringing your doorbell again before one of the other Purgers got impatient. A taller, blonde woman wearing a moth-themed mask grumbled and raised her weapon, “It’s no use. Let’s just find a weak spot and break in.” 

“Nooo! That’s so barbaric, we must treat a woman gently.” 

“We are quite literally, purging her home.” Another woman chimed in, this time a short woman with beige-colored hair wearing a doll mask. 

“Yes, but I would like her to respond before we break in.” The dove-mask pouts. 

“Enough.” Finally, the fourth woman spoke up, her posture and height intimidating as she stepped to the front. This time it was a woman wearing a harlequin mask, her gaze piercing through the camera. “We know you are listening, (Reader). It isn’t polite to keep your guests waiting.” 

She smirked at the camera, as if edging you to press the call button and respond. You felt as if your blood was being drained from your body, a morbid feeling of death looming over you like a cloud. You had no choice, if you didn’t respond they would just try and break in anyway, so perhaps it would be wise to try and convince them not to? 

You did not think that was plausible, but Purgers were still human. Maybe they will be human just for you… 

“C-Can I help you?” Fuckkkkk you did not mean to sound like a timid fast food worker working at the Drive Thru. You mentally cursed yourself as you watched the other four women smile at your compliance.

“There’s her cute voice!” The dove-mask exclaimed excitedly. “I was worried some other Purgers may have gotten to you already…” 

“Can I help you?” You stated again firmly, wanting them to leave as soon as possible. “If you’re looking to rob my house, I’m afraid I don’t have anything of value.” 

“Oh…sweetheart,” the harlequin-mask chuckled, sliding her hand across the handle of her bloody ax. “You’re in there.” 

Oh great. Yeah why bother spending the Purge robbing stuff that is actually useful to you, when you can murder people instead. Genius. 

“…Okay, I know what you are implying, but I beg of you not to kill me! I promise that after the Purge is over I will compensate for you all somehow. Whether it’d be money or anything else you’d like, I’ll do it!”

“Open those ears of yours, girl. We want you, not your house.” The moth-mask tsked, a bit of annoyance present on the edge of her voice. “We are coming in whether you like it or not. As long as you are inside, we will get in too.” 

“…No need to be so mean, Signora.” You heard the dove-mask huff, folding her arms. “Just hold tight, baby. We’re coming to find you~”

You let out a small, panicked squeak of terror and cut the mic, standing up from your seat and making your way to your drawer to check on the handgun you had stashed away. You couldn’t believe that this was the year you would have to use it, and your adrenaline was pulsing like crazy. 

‘All loaded’ you mentally prepared yourself for the worst, taking deep breaths and walking back to your computer monitors that displayed the cameras. You let out another panicked squeak when you saw that the Purgers had left your front porch, now scattered around your property doing god knows what. 

“Why this year of all years?” You whined, keeping your handgun close to you as you kept looking through the monitors. Okay, okay, they were just circling your house, no biggie. Their weapons appeared to be of class 1 only, so it would be next to impossible for them to break down your security systems. 

Really, though you were on edge, you should be relatively safe so long as the power doesn’t—

Almost as if your fate was being toyed at the hands of a God, your lights suddenly went out and the sound of your metal shutters started coming up. Oh…you were fucked now.

‘…I am dead.’ You wanted to scream, but knew better as it was time for survival. It was every woman for herself, no beating around the bush. Logistically you weren’t sure if you could take out four Purgers on your own, but if you were going to die tonight you were going to die fighting ugly. 

You heard one of your windows shatter and flinched when you heard footsteps now roaming the downstairs of your house. Okay, you got this. You technically have an advantage as you have a firearm and they don’t know where you are, you should play this safe. 

You held your breath and stealthily made your way downstairs, holding the gun. You saw the broken window in your living room, swallowing thickly before looking around to see if there was anyone around. Your eyes suddenly landed on a bloody trail that looked as if a body had been dragged through your house. Did they just kill someone? 

You suddenly heard a thud behind you and whirled around quickly, only to accidentally let out a gasp when you saw the dead body of your neighbor just lying there on your kitchen floor. You managed to hold in a scream, but it was no use when you felt strong arms hold you from behind, a yell escaping your throat as you felt one of the Purgers’ grip on you.

“Mm…not a screamer…quite the silent one, aren’t you?” You heard a rough, raspy voice as the woman behind you grabbed your gun and tore it away with ease. Just how strong was she?! Your breath hitched when you felt the sharp end of a knife press against your throat, her voice humming with pleasure. “I like quiet girls.”

From your peripheral vision you saw that it was the Purger with the harlequin mask, her hair mostly white with a few streaks of black, yet another person you were not familiar with. Footsteps then entered the kitchen from the thick fog of darkness, a giggle leaving another one of the Purgers. 

“You caught her! Heh, I guess you won this one, Arle~!” It was the Purger with the dove-mask, her cute and feminine voice not matching her appearance at all as her white dress was covered in blood. “I want to pet her!” 

“Wash your hands, Columbina.” Another voice came, this time it was the doll-masked Purger who came walking out of the darkness. “I don’t want you getting blood all over her. She’ll stink.” 

“A little blood won’t hurt her, Sandrone.” 

You whimpered when the woman named “Columbina” walked closer to you, her sadistic smile present as she ran her fingers across your cheek. You would flinch away if not for the harlequin mask —you believe she was called Arle?— holding you in place, her muscles tightening around you and preventing you from squirming. 

“Ah…how cute!” Columbina cooed. “I almost feel bad for scaring her, she looks like she’s about to cry.”

“She looks prettier that way.” Came a deeper, more mature voice, as the moth-masked woman —Signora, if you remembered correctly— came into view. You gulped when Signora strutted over to you and took your chin in her hand, admiring you from behind her mask and turning your face to look at all your angles. “Loosen your grip a bit, Arlecchino. The girl looks like she’s about to pass out from blood circulation.” 

Arlecchino let out a titular hum. “And why would I do that? If I let her go, she can run off.” 

“Not with us here. We all can catch her quite easily.” Sandrone said matter-of-factly. 

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” Arlecchino leaned down and whispered gravely into your ear. “I don’t recommend running, little one. All four of us can hunt you down quite easily, and if you ran out into the open during the Purge, well…”

She chuckled and playfully blew on your ear. “Someone else might get to you before us.” 

Your body involuntarily shivered and you felt the back of your ear grow hot. Upon seeing how much of an impact she had on you, Arlecchino smirked and carefully let go of you. 

You should run. In fact, you weren’t sure why you were staying in place surrounded by these murderous women. Every instinct and sense of logic in your brain was telling you to make a run for it, but another part of you knew that it was fruitless to even make it out of your house. 

“You know, you should be thanking us.” Signora said coldly. “Without us here, you probably would’ve been murdered by that neighbor of yours.” 

“Wh-What?”

“Oh! She speaks…” Columbina giggled. “Believe it or not, we found him messing around with some circuit box in your yard. Looks like he was the one who knocked out the power to kill you himself.”

Your eyes landed on the body of your neighbor laying on the floor. His eyes still wide open like he was stuck in time, lips parted like was in the middle of screaming before meeting his bloody demise. “Of course…we took care of him for you! Wouldn’t want our pretty girl to get hurt.”

Columbina smiled and kicked his body away like it was nothing, looking up at you like they had just done a great thing. You kept looking between the Purgers and the dead body of your neighbor, unable to cope with the fact that this would be the first Purge where you might end up like another body bag. 

“…Is this where I get killed now?” You laughed weakly, cold sweat dripping down your face. “I…I’m not sure what else to do at this point, get on my knees and beg for my life?”

“Ooh. I like the kneeling and begging part.” Sandrone comments bluntly. Meanwhile, the other women chuckle at your pathetic display, with Arlecchino pulling you towards her and murmuring in your ear. 

“Oh, we aren’t interested in hurting you. At least not that much.” She suddenly slid her hands up your stomach and towards your breasts, a gasp leaving your lips when she fondled them through your shirt. ”…Soft.” 

“Easy now, Arlecchino. She hasn’t accepted yet.” Signora hums, gently pulling Arle’s eager hands away from your chest. Arlecchino slips out a small growl of dissatisfaction, but pulls away anyway to comply with Signora’s requests. Despite how refined Arlecchino seemed to be, you could tell she was a woman of a lot of restraint, and she had been itching to feel you up despite her calm demeanor. 

“If it wasn’t obvious by Arlecchino’s…desires,” Signora comments, stroking your face, “We want your body, but not in the way that you think.” 

“You’re just so pretty…especially when your bottom lip wobbles in fear,” Columbina whispers. “How could we not want you this way?”

Oh…oh.

Now you know why they haven’t killed you yet. 

“Look at her face, all dumb and bewildered.” Sandrone comments, the faintest of grins appearing on her face as she took in your confused expression. 

“What do you say, let us have some fun with you?” Arlecchino purrs from behind, making you shiver in anticipation and a little bit of curiosity. 

“…I suppose.” You said softly, a little hesitant to agree. 

“Oh my, what a promiscuous thing she is,” Signora comments, a sly smile making its way to her lips. “Wanting to take all four of us at the same time, what a whore.” 

“Easy now, Signora. She can’t help how curious she is.” Columbina smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Arle~ Be a dear and carry the poor lamb upstairs. The dead guy is killing the mood.”

“Of course.” Arlecchino grinned wolfishly and took you in her arms, throwing you over her shoulder like it was nothing while going up the stairs. You could only watch helplessly as the three other women followed after you, smiling at how utterly pathetic you looked while being carried by Arlecchino with one arm. 

…You weren’t sure how you got up to this point. One moment you were almost pissing your pants in fear, and the next you were suddenly thrown into your bed and surrounded by four Purgers. All of them stared down at you with a look of pure joy in their eyes, practically ravishing you on the bed with just their gaze alone. 

Surprisingly, it was Sandrone that made the first move. For as quiet as she was, the woman crawled on top of you and grabbed your face for herself, pulling you into a kiss. 

“Oh my! I didn’t expect Sandrone to be so eager…” Columbina giggled. Meanwhile, in the corner of your eye; you could see Arlecchino unzipping her pants and Signora taking off her gloves. 

You couldn’t watch them for long, however; as Sandrone forcefully pushed you back and shoved her tongue down your mouth, turning the kiss into a more seductive dance of tongues. The doll-masked woman moaned at the taste of you, pulling you in closer to her as she aggressively pushed her hands up your shirt. 

“Mm…what a sloppy kisser. I could tell you’ve never had another woman in your mouth before.” Sandrone pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your tongue with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that for you.” 

“Arle, no need to be so impatient. She’s still on the bed.” You heard Signora gently scold Arlecchino and looked over to see what she was doing. The harlequin woman was gritting her teeth and tugging her trousers off as fast as she could, the base of a harness and what looked to be a crimson-colored strap peeking through the gap of her zipper. 

Oh…they were prepared for this. 

“Hey. Don’t look at her, look at me.” Sandrone sounded annoyed and gripped your face to look at her again, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Pfft. Sandrone is getting jealous.” You felt the bed space behind you dip, and in the midst of making out with Sandrone, you felt Columbina’s lithe and petite body encircle yours. “Let’s see how good you taste.” 

Columbina’s lips latched onto the back of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin hard enough to leave a few bruises. The choked whimpers you let out made the dove-mask and doll-mask moan with pleasure, Sandrone pulling you more against herself while Columbina grinded her hips from behind. 

As Sandrone’s hands fondled your breasts under your shirt, you felt something small yet hard growing under Columbina’s dress. It was clear the two women were getting heavily turned on, with how Sandrone was starting to tug off your shirt and Columbina grinding faster against you. 

“Let’s put that sloppy tongue to use.” Sandrone comments bluntly, lowering you down against the bed as she raises her dress to pull off her panties. Columbina takes her position between your legs, pulling your pants off and eagerly wanting to stuff her face in your cunt. “No teeth now. Try to be a good girl.” Sandrone slides her panties off and spreads her legs over your awaiting mouth, using her fingers to give you quite the show of her sweet pussy glistening with juices. The doll-masked woman didn’t wait for another second and took her place at her rightful seat, letting you taste the sweet tang of her cunt smothering your lips. 

Meanwhile, Columbina was eagerly pulling your own panties down with her hands, her tongue —which was freakishly long— swiped at her bottom lip the moment she saw your bare entrance. “Mm…Gotta make sure you’re wet enough to take Arle’s strap.” She whispered, parting your legs gently –though her nails were digging into your thighs– and licking a long stripe across your clit. 

“Nnnh–!” You moaned into Sandrone’s own clit, causing her to buck her hips needily. “Fuck…her tongue feels so good.” 

“I can only imagine,” Columbina coos, smothering her face deeper and darting her hot tongue out quickly. Her hands trailed down to her dress and began lightly jerking herself off while she ate you out, moaning into your thighs as she ravished your insides. You hadn’t expected to be double teamed so easily, but you didn’t mind, eating out Sandrone and tasting her folds more thoroughly while Columbina masturbated to the taste of you. 

“Are you– mmppgh…guys ready?” Sandrone moans out sweetly, riding your face harder as she looks back at Arlecchino and Signora. Both women had stripped out of their festive Purger outfits, with Arlecchino wearing nothing but a thick, girthy strapon and Signora dressed in the prettiest lingerie you had ever seen. “Oh come on Signora, that’s– fuck, overkill for the Purge, isn’t it?” 

“The girl likes it.” Signora tuts, casting you a smirk beneath her mask. “Is she wet enough, Columbina?” 

“Nope!” Columbina pulls her head away from between your thighs, her face smeared in all your juices while your thighs are left a trembling mess. 

“Liar.”

“She needs to be wetter! Let me eat her out more!”

“Columbina.” Arlecchino finally makes her presence known, crawling over to the bed and pulling her hair back, forcefully pulling her away from your cunt. Columbina whined and gave Arlecchino a glare, not quite finished with eating you out yet. “Arle, I said she needed to be wetter.”

You couldn’t believe you had four women in your bed, all fighting for you during the Purge. You would voice your concerns if not for Sandrone still whining and grinding on your face so roughly. Though the woman was a small, seemingly gentle woman, it was obvious she was one of the more desperate ones of the group. 

“Suck on her tits or something. I want her tight cunt swallowing my strap.” Arlecchino growled, possessively stroking your thigh while Columbina huffed. “Fine.” She gave your inner thigh one last bite, causing you to jolt and accidentally make Sandrone come from the sudden movement. 

“Oh– nnngh!” Sandrone’s little legs trembled greatly, her orgasm washing over her as she ground her hips more firmly. The sweet, succulent taste of her cum washed down your throat, making your eyes flutter shut in how good Sandrone tasted. “Was her tongue game that good, Sandrone?” Columbina purred, suddenly taking an interest in your mouth. “Yeah, her movements are amateaur at best, but somehow feel really good?” 

“Heh, good enough for me.” Columbina proceeded to shove Sandrone off and take her place, dangling her small, yet very eager cock in front of your lips. “Let’s get those pretty lips sucking me off, hm?” She smiled and caressed your cheek before slipping her tip inside, watching with satisfaction as you took all of her length so easily. Meanwhile, Arlecchino and Signora were more occupied on your raw pussy, which was twitching with need after being neglected for too long. Signora cooed and pressed a teasing kiss to your clit, lightly blowing on it before rising to focus on your breasts. 

“Poor baby is feeling neglected up here, huh?” She teased, the blonde woman leaning in to lick a long stripe across your tits before latching one nipple in her mouth. She took pleasure in the way your back arched off the bed, the Fair Lady’s tongue swirling around hungrily as her fingers swirled around your clit. “Give me some lube, Arle. I want to finger her for a bit before you start.” 

You heard the sound of growl before Arlecchino reluctantly obliged. “Make it quick, I want to fold her into the mattress myself.” She gave Signora a bottle of lube and you could only moan when you felt the Fair Lady’s cold fingers circle your entrance with a slimy substance coating them. When you moaned however, you choked on Columbina’s cock, causing her to groan and buck her hips. “Goodness her throat is…quite tight.”

Signora chuckled at that and pressed her fingers deeper into your entrance, watching with great pleasure as they sunk in with little to no resistance. “And quite wet. You did a good job of loosening her up, Columbina.” Signora proceeded to finger you to see just how far you could take her. Her fingers –which were very long and thin– stretching you out and brushing up against all your tender spots to see which ones would make you squirm. 

As this was happening, you felt Columbina’s tiny cock start twitching in your mouth, signaling that she was getting close. Unable to keep your moans to yourself, you stifled a small whine and traced the underside of her shaft with your tongue, watching as her face made all sorts of lewd expressions. “Oh f-fu– I’m gonna come…” she whimpered, riding your face faster before shooting a hot load down your throat and throwing her head back. 

“Oh? What a good girl, making two of us orgasm already.” Signora hummed, pulling her fingers out and licking them clean. “I guess it’s time to get to the main event now.” 

Columbina tiredly got off you and went to join Sandrone, who was lying blissfully on the bed and watching how you took the final two women. The taste of sex and cum lingered on the back of your tongue, yet you were now hooked. You gazed at Arlecchino who had been waiting impatiently at the foot of the bed, stroking her fat strap and making sure you saw. 

“Hold her down, Signora.” Arlecchino commanded, watching as you were manhandled to switch positions. No longer were you lying flat on your back, as you were now sat up against Signora with her chest against your back, bare breasts and stomach pressed against your skin and making you shiver. “Such a good girl, letting us manhandle you as we please…” Signora’s deep, husky voice whispered in your ear, her hands making their way down to your thighs and keeping them spread for Arlecchino. “Have fun with her, Arle.” 

Arlecchino didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled on top of you and angled her strap to brush against your entrance. Her eyes narrowed as she saw how needy your pussy was after going through three women, seeing how twitchy and puffy it was. “You three really did a number on her.” She mumbled, brushing the tip of her strap between your folds. When you trembled and let out a gasp at the feeling, both Arle and Signora smirked, with Signora trailing her hands down to pull your folds apart. 

“Do your worst. She wants it.” 

Arlecchino grinned and sandwiched you against Signora, slowly pushing her strap into you and watching as you were speared open on her faux cock. “Fuck– she’s tight still…” She grumbled, enjoying the way your pussy gripped the silicone so roughly. 

“Well you did buy a girthy one.” Sandrone says matter-of-factly. 

“I know, but she seems to enjoy it anyways.” Arlecchino laughed wolfishly and continued to spear you open while your cunt struggled to accommodate her girth. You had never felt so full before when taking a toy, letting out sweet whimpers as the smallest beads of tears formed at your lashes. 

“Oh, don’t cry…” Signora hummed behind you, licking your tears away. “It’ll feel so good soon~”

The harlequin let out a grunt as she pushed her hips further, watching as her strap finally nestled itself comfortably inside you. She could see the slightest bit of arousal pool at the base of her strap, and that only spurred her on more, starting to thrust at a shallow pace. You threw your head back against Signora’s shoulder, feeling her soft lips press kisses on your tear-dotted face. Arlecchino was just so deep, filling your insides on just her girth alone while she thrusted. 

“My…what a peculiar sight.” Arlecchino chuckled, her eyes filled with pure desire as she saw you trembling beneath her. Your legs pathetically squirming yet being held down, clearly overstimulated now that you had to go through the fourth Purger. 

“I haven’t even bottomed out yet.” She smiled wickedly, pinning you in place while she nearly folded you in half. If not for Signora sitting there behind you, you were sure she would have pushed you into a full on mating press into the mattress. “Hold her tighter, I’m going all in.” 

Every woman in the room watched with interest as Arlecchino took a deep breath and slowly inched herself deeper until your cunt hit her harness. With each inch, you felt a loud whine rip through you, the fat tip of Arle’s strap pushing against your walls and forming a slight belly bulge. “Oh my…” Signora’s eyes glazed over with lust, trailing her hand up to rest atop the bulge. “Look how deep you are in her, Arle.” 

“How cuteee!” Columbina cooed. “I wanna give her a belly bulge too!”

“Maybe another time. The poor girl looks as if she’ll pass out after this round.” 

All four women leered at you hungrily before Arlecchino pulled out and slammed back in. They took great pleasure in watching Arle ravage your insides, wet smacks filling the air as your expressions formed into even lewder ones. Signora looked the most ecstatic, her hand gently pushing down on the bulge each time Arle bottomed out and thrusted back into you. 

The extra force of Signora pushing down on your stomach and Arlecchino fucking you like an animal was almost too much to handle. Each punctuated thrust of Arlecchino’s hips made your poor body bounce rather weakly, your legs scrambling to pull away from Signora’s grip and latch around the harlequin’s waist. 

“She’s getting close. I can feel it…” Arlecchino growled, craving to see your cum form a ring around her base. “Come for me…I know you can do it.” 

She held onto your ankle and gave it a small kiss, looking down at you as you writhed around like a worm. The way your leg twitched and the tears trailed down your face was enough to make all the girls swoon over you harder. You were just too cute, they were glad they broke in to get you. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you felt your pussy tense up before cumming all over Arlecchino’s strap. The harlequin groaned at the sight and started thrusting even faster, going feral at the sight of your cum drenching her faux cock and helping you ride out your orgasm. The other woman in the room giggled at the sight of you reduced to a whining, babbling mess, Arlecchino finally pulling out and admiring how soaked you made her strap. 

“Goddamn…” she grunted, dropping your legs to the bed and watching as you collapsed against Signora, too tired to even keep your eyes open. 

“Look at her, barely able to stay awake.” Sandrone comments, gently massaging one of your thighs. “We really did a number on her.” 

“Awww, I really wanted to fuck her too.” Columbina pouts, tracing the hickies and bite marks the women left on your body.

“Maybe when she wakes up. For now, let’s let the poor girl rest.” Signora gently caressed your cheek and gave you a small kiss. “Close your eyes, little one. We will keep you safe throughout the rest of the Purge.” 

Arlecchino crawls up to join you by your side, pulling you against her while all the other women adjust to snuggle around you, essentially turning this into one big cuddle pile. “Rest well,” Arlecchino whispers huskily, your eyes growing heavier as you bask in the embrace of the four Purgers who broke into your home, yet showed you the best way to celebrate the gory holiday.

“Happy Purge.” 

[jinxedbychaos]

Echoes of Insanity Ch. 3

Monsters and Heroes

Jinx (Powder) x twin sister

Past-

The room is dimly lit, the soft patter of rain tapping against the windows. Their family's one room home is small, but cozy. With their parents sleeping not far away on a small bed tucked into the corner.

Vi crouches low, her hands curled into playful claws as she pretends to be a growling monster. Little Powder and Ash giggle as they scramble behind a makeshift fort, built from old blankets and boxes.

"I'm a monster! and I'm gonna get you!" Vi says

She keeps her voice low, careful not to wake their parent, but playful menace in her tone sends shivers through the room.

Powder and Ash, once smiling, suddenly exchange wide eyed glances as Vi prowls toward them. Their excitement shift to unease as Vi lets out a quiet roar, the sound a little too loud for comfort in the cramped space.

"No… Vi, stop…" Ash whimpers.

Ash's voice trembles, and she and Powder huddle together, trying to hide beneath the blankets, their small bodies shaking with fear.

Vi's heart sinks the moment she sees their faces. Making her drop the "monster" act instantly.

"Hey, Hey, it's okay! I'm not a monster anymore." Vi says softly and reassuringly.

She steps toward them, her eyes widening in playful alarm as she pretends to spot something behind them.

Vi gasp "Wait… I see it! The monster!"

Powder and Ash both whip their heads around, wide eyed, searching frantically for the monster.

"Where? Where is it?" Ash whispers worried.

Tears well up in both Ash's and Powder's eyes, their imaginations running wild. Vi, quick on her feet, grabs an old stick lying nearby and swings it dramatically through the air.

"There! I'll get it! Don't worry, I'll save you!" Vi says

She swing the stick through the air, pretending to fight off the invisible monster. With each exaggerated swipe, the fear in her sisters faces melts away, replaced with awe and laughter.

"Get it Vi!" Powder says giggling.

"Go, Vi!" Ash cheers.

They watch as Vi delivers one final, exaggerated blow, defeating the invisible monster. She stands up, breathing heavily.

"It's gone. You're safe now" Vi grins proudly.

Powder and Ash rush forward, wrapping their arms around Vi in a tight hug, their earlier fear completely forgotten. Vi smiles, wrapping her arms around them pulling them closer.

"see? I won't let any monster hurt you." Vi says tucking them in the bed with her.

She lays down with them on the small bed, the three of them nestled together, safe and warm under the blankets. the soft sound of rain continues outside as their world becomes a little smaller and safer, wrapped up in each other.

Present-

We walk through the dimly lit interior of The Last Drop, heads down, going down into the basement room, we drop onto different couches Powder and me siting close together, the tension hanging thick in the air.

"Vander learns none of this." Vi mutter, her voice low but firm

"No worries there. Powder and Ash took care of the evidence" Mylo says

"We tried, okay?" Powder shoots back defensively. I chime in "You don't get it you're older" frustration bubbling up in my voice.

"You're bigger!. It, it isn't fair!" Powder adds, her small fists clenched in frustration.

"So stick with us!" Mylo snaps, his voice harsh, his anger barely contained. "Take a punch or two."

The sudden creak of a door cuts through the air, and we all turn as Vander steps in, his eyes landing on Vi, who tries to avoid his gaze. Powder and I shrink into the couch, clutching each other, trying to blend into the couch.

"Everyone alright?" Vander's voice is calm as he descends the stairs.

"Never better." Mylo says a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

"Good" Vander responds "I don't suppose you can explain why it is that I'm hearing about an explosion" he continues, his hands on his back as he walks through the room "and a foot chase topside? five children fleeing the scene."

Nobody meet his eyes everyone trying to look elsewhere.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Vander's voice rises, his frustration seeping through.

"That we could handle a real job." Vi finally snaps, lifting her head to meet his gaze with defiance.

"A real job?" Vander repeats, incredulity in his voice.

"We got our own tip, planned a route, nobody ever saw." Vi says, he voice sharpening as the anger builds.

"You blew up a building!" Vander shoot back.

"That wasn't-" Vi begins but Vander cuts her off, his patience worn thin.

"Did you ever stop to think about what could have happened to you?" he nearly shouts "eh? To them?" he gestures towards us, but we avoid his gaze, trying to disappear.

"Where did you even get this tip?" Vander presses, turning his attention fully to Vi.

"We heard it at Benzo's shop." Powders blurts out, drawing everyone's attention to her.

"From?" Vander asks, his brow furrowed.

"Little Man" she admits, her voice small.

Vander lets out a heavy sigh.

Vi stands, stepping closer to him "I took us there. if you wanna be mad, be mad at me" she says, her voice steady "But you're the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world"

Vander's face hardens "I also told you time and time again, the northside's off limit" Vander shouts at Vi "We stay out of Piltover's business"

"Why?" Vi shoots back, her voice rising again "They've got plenty, while we're down here scraping together coins. When did you get so comfortable living in someone else's shadow?"

The rooms falls silent, Even Mylo. We all look at them in silence

"everyone out" Vander says, his voice calm.

Vander and Vi face each other as the rest of the gang stand and leave the room. I grab Powder's hand and together we slip out of the room.

We head upstairs, leaving Vander and Vi behind the room, their voices jus a murmur now. Claggor and Mylo stop outside the door trying to eavesdrop, Mylo leans his ear against the door. But Powder and I make our way to the back door of The Last Drop. Neither of us say a word as we step into the alley, the door creaking shut behind us. The cool air brushes against our skin, but we keep holding hands, a silent comfort.

I glance at Powder. her blue eyes wide with lingering guilt.

"Do you think… Vi's mad at us?" She finally whispers, her voice almost trembling.

I squeeze her hand "I-I don't know" I admit.

"I-I hate this" Powder whispers her lip quivering. "We mess everything up. We always do"

"It's not our fault" I reply, though my voice wavers, not fully convinced myself.

Powders look at me, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "but.. what if Mylo is right? What if we're just… jinxes?"

I pause, letting her words linger in the air. "He's wrong" I say, this time more firmly, though doubt nags at me too "We can probe him wrong, we just need to try harder"

Powder squeezes my hand tighter, a flicker of hope igniting behind her worried expression. "You really think so?"

"I know so" I say offering a small, reassuring smile. "Let's see what we can find around here. Maybe we can build something new a better bomb"

Her face lights up at the suggestion, the spark of invention returning to her eyes "yeah! Let's do that!"

Together, we start searching through the alley, our eyes scanning the ground and near by trash bins. We approach a rusted pipe, and I try to twist the cap off, but it's stuck "Help me, Powder" I say, and together we manage to pry it open.

peering inside, I spot something shiny at the bottom. I stretch my arm in, trying to reach it, but it's just out of grasp. "Too far" I mutter

"I'll try" Powder offers. She slides her arm in, streatching her fingers toward the object.

While she tries to reach the object, I glance over and notice Claggor and Vander slipping out the back door, carrying a bag full of something. They don't say a word, just passing us by in silence.

"Got it!" Powder exclaims, pulling out the small, gleaming object. She holds it up to show me, and I reach to grab it. We both turn it over in our hands, examining it closely. Once I let go, Powder tucks it into her pocket.

As she does, her fingers brush against something else, the blue crystals we took from the workshop, She takes one out of her pocket and her hand closes around it, Her eyes widening. "We have to show this to Vi"

Without wasting another moment, we run back to the door, and hurry downstairs to the basement, jumping the last step.

As we reach the ajar basement door. Just as we're about to entry, we hear the voices from within. Mylo's speaking to Vi.

"they're a problem" Mylo grumbles.

Vi sighs. "Mylo, I'm really not-"

But Mylo cuts her off. "Do you remember what was in that bag?" He throws a ball against the wall, catching it on the rebound "The biggest payout we've ever seen, and they just lost it"

"They made a mistake" Vi says, defending us.

Mylo throws the ball again. "Name one time they haven't"

"They're young" Vi replies, her voice quieter but firm.

"Don't bullshit me" Mylo snaps, tossing the ball against the wall again "You were twice the person at half their age."

"You know what, Mylo you're right" Vi says.

Her words hit me hard, a surge of emotions bubbling up, anger, sadness, confusion. It all mixes together in a tight knot inside me.

"There's a bunch of things Powder and Ash just can't do" Vi continues, her voice steady but sharp.

"You don't need to tell me twice" Mylo mutters, throwing the ball again.

I can't listen to this anymore. I grab Powder's arm, and we quietly slip away, heading to our room. I don't want to hear another word.

Once inside, I let go of her arm and sit down on the bunk bed, starring at the wall in silence. The weight of everything sinks in, pressing down on my chest. I don't say anything to Powder, I don't even know what to say.

Powder watches me, she is as confused and hurt as I am. After a moment, she walks over to the record player, pulling out a disc. She carefully places it on the turntable and lowers the needle, and then she comes to sit beside me.

We don't speak. we just sit there, listening to the music.

Neither of us mentions what Vi said. It’s too raw, too painful to dig into right now. But the words hang between us like a shadow.

Powder fidgets beside me, her knee bouncing nervously. I know she’s thinking about it too, but like me, she's not sure how to talk about it. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"does Vi hates us?," she asks, her voice shaky.

I don’t answer right away. Thinking about what to say, Instead, I reach for the box under the bed the one with the scraps we’ve found. I pull it out and open it, revealing wires, metal bits, broken gadgets, everything we’ve managed to collect for our next project.

“I-i don't know” I finally admit, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Maybe she does" I say as I run my fingers over the pieces, Trying to focus on something else, I grab one and start working on it, the movement familiar, almost automatic.

Powder watches me for a moment, then pulls her knees to her chest. After a beat, she leans forward, rummaging through the parts beside me. The energy between us shifts, our focus turning to the creation in front of us. It's like we’re speaking through the work, letting it fill the space between us instead of words.

After a while, of pulling wires and putting metal scraps together, we finally finish. We both smile, just a little. It's not like the pain is gone, or that Vi's word didn't hurt, but building something together just make us feel better.

Powder picks up the crayons and starts drawing on our creation, giving it a face with sharp, spiky teeth. When I reach for the a crayon to add my own touch. We hear Vi's voice coming from the top bunk.

"What are you calling this one?" she asks, looking down at us.

Our smiles fall instantly as we look up at her.

"Whisker" Powder answers.

Vi climb down from the bed and sit with us.

"You guys wanna talk about today?" Vi asks gently.

"What's the point?" Powder mumbles "we've ruined everything. we always do"

"Nobody said that" Vi replies.

"No. just that you were 'twice the person' at half our age" I say, a bit of sarcasm slipping into my voice.

"You heard them" Powder adds, her voice small "we're not fighters."

"You don't have to be" Vi says, trying to reassure us. "look, I've got these" She says, holding up her fists, "and you've got those" She points to the bomb shells scattered across the bed.

"They never work" I mutter, frustration bubbling up as I pull my legs to my chest and hug them tighter.

"They will" Vi says firmly. Then she stands "Come with me."

"What?" Powder asks, glancing at Vi then back at me.

"Come on!" Vi repeats walking off.

Powder hesitates but gets up from the bed, offering me her hand. which I take, and together we follow Vi.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Ch. 1 - Ch. 4

I was supposed to update this on Sunday, but I forgot sorry.

My exams are close so I need to focus on studying which means there won't be updates as often :( But I'll try to make some time into writing though I can't promise.

Don't forget to leave a like and a comment I'm open to suggestions.

[octuscle]

Road Trip to a new life

Bloody hell, Chuck thought to himself! They can't just forget me here! His football team was on its way home from an away game. A very successful away game. And they all had their star quarterback to thank for that. And that was him, that was Chuck. And now they had all just taken a pee break. At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. And hey, Chuck had been flirting with the cute waitress at the diner. And yes, he had fucked her in the broom closet. Hehehe, he thought to himself for a brief moment. A map of the state, showing the broom closets where he'd fucked basement girls, cheerleaders, or even teachers from schools he'd usually flunked out of shortly afterward. That would be a cool idea! His grin didn't last long. Shit, the team bus had left. Without him. And now he was standing here in the rain with no idea how he was going to get home.

A truck came to a halt next to him. A horn sounded very loudly. Chuck didn't react yet. The passenger door opened and a bearded guy looked out. "Son, you look lost. Can I give you a ride?" Chuck hesitated for a moment. He was still far too confused, far too angry to think clearly. "Sure, that would be cool," he replied. And climbed into the cab of the monstrous truck. It smelled of cigar smoke and sweat. Chuck looked at the driver. A short, slightly overweight guy. Unkempt. The dirty T-shirt ended just above the large belt buckle and showed a roll of flab. A greasy mullet peeked out from under the trucker's cap. Shit, Chuck thought to himself. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. The trucker lit a half-smoked cigar. "My name is Pete. If you want one too, there's one in the compartment right in front of you. Chuck shook his head, tensed his biceps and said, "Chuck! Thanks for the ride. And I don't smoke. I'm an athlete." Pete stretched out his right arm and felt Chuck's biceps. "Hm, feels good. It'd be a shame if you stopped working out." He blew a puff of smoke in Chuck's direction. And his hand moved towards Chuck's chest. "Wait, wait," Chuck moved to the right in a sit. "No homo, dude. I only fuck pussy." The driver just glanced briefly in Chuck's direction and smiled. His teeth were nicotine yellow. "I don't care what YOU fuck." He blew another puff of smoke in Chuck's direction, pulled his hand back and began kneading the bulge in his crotch. "Thanks for the ride, I think I'd better get off now." Another puff of smoke. Chuck went dizzy. "Comrade, the next stop isn't for another six hours. We have a schedule to meet." Chuck tried to keep a clear head. But the smoke was making him tired. His head felt like it was full of absorbent cotton. "All right, Pete," he mumbled. And fell asleep.

It was dark outside when Pete shook him by the shoulder. "Get up, sleepyhead. We'll take a break in fifteen minutes and then change drivers. Chuck yawned and stretched. Driver change? What was Pete talking about? And more important now was his latte. South of his big belt buckle, Chuck made a big tent in his pants. Of course Pete had noticed it long ago. He had long since taken his puny boner out of his pants and was wanking it. As a passenger, you had your duties. And it was still a quarter of an hour's drive. It wasn't the first time Chuck had blown someone in a driver's cab. Driver's cabs, filthy toilets in truck stops, broom closets in cheap diners. He could manage anywhere. How long had he been driving aimlessly on the highways now? Two years? Got there. You had to take what you could get. And Pete was actually out of his league. But he took him a good part of the way. Gratitude was a must.

Chuck walked a little wide-legged towards the restrooms at the service station. Pete must have cum. Chuck hadn't yet. They wouldn't be driving on for another hour at the earliest. It was going to be hell if he didn't find someone to fuck by then. In the light of a lantern, he leaned against the wall, his erection still clearly visible. He took a cigar from his leather vest, lit it and waited. Almost five minutes. Then a greasy business traveler in a cheap suit walked past him. A look that lasted a little too long. A grab in the crotch. A mumbled "20 without a rubber?". And everything was clear. It had been a few days since Chuck had showered, but the guy was still greedily going down on Chuck's greasy, cheesy cock. Premium beef. Yes, that described his cock very well. And this premium beef had just been sucked clean for 20 dollars. And then Chuck sank it into the guy's ass.

Chuck couldn't understand guys like Pete. When you were out on the street, you had to take care of your body. Okay, Chuck more than others, his body was his asset after all. But while Chuck shoveled in lots of chips and a big burger and drank three pitchers of beer, Chuck ate his steak and salad, drank water and used the last few minutes before leaving to do a few pull-ups and push-ups at the fitness station behind the toilets. A few other long-distance drivers loitered around him. If they hadn't had to drive on, Chuck could certainly have earned a few more dollars. But as it was, he climbed into the driver's seat. If he hadn't had to drive, he would certainly have had a few beers. As it was, another cigar would have to do. Pete snored in the back of his bunk. Chuck turned the radio up a little louder to stay awake. And he steered the truck south through the night.

At the next break and before the driver change, Chuck was able to earn a few more dollars. There were many truck stops where he was known as a colorful dog. When you heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the leather, it was like a bell on a Pavlovian dog. Chuck had been traveling the country for many years. A mixture of hustler, temporary trucker and casual laborer. He had flunked out of college at some point. Stupid thing to do. He'd had a thing with a woman once. And she'd claimed he'd raped her. That taught him a lesson, since then he only fucked men. They appreciated his mouth, his ass and his cock. And paid well.

Somewhere in New Mexico, Pete threw Chuck out of the truck. He had to be out of the cab before the finish line. Pete would be in big trouble if it came out that he had let someone else drive the truck. He thanked Chuck with a masterful blowjob and a box of Cuban cigars. They would probably never see each other again. The country was big… Chuck rarely got in the same truck twice.

Chuck loved the feeling of the sun on his body. He was able to use the stop for an extensive open-air workout, a good meal, two lucrative fucks and even a shower. Now let's see where he was going. He stood by the road. It wasn't five minutes before a car stopped and the driver asked him if he could give him a lift. Chuck only asked if he could smoke in the car. Only if he didn't just put the cigar in his mouth, was the answer. Chuck got in the car. On the road again!

Pics by @ki-kink

[elliebean714]

Hide And Seek

Josh Washington x GN!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Everybody's playing hide and seek, but you're veryy competitive and end up somewhere you shouldn't have

Fluff, Slow Burn(?) This is kinda just game lore, then turns into an actual character x reader at the very end lol

An~ I *think* this is *loosely* inspired by a fic I read on here a few years ago, I cannot remember though, so credits to them ig, I'll tag the og if I somehow find it (if it's even real, I may have dreamt it up or something lmao). I only put this as josh x reader bc he's my fave, but honestly, this can be read without that and you wouldn't miss anything lmao. I just wanted to get this out of my skull. SOO PROUD OF THISS!! HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS OMGGG?? WRITING IS FUN?? WTFF??? Its 5:30 in the morning and i just finished writing until dawn fan fiction. How did it come to this?? good lord this man is beautiful, should be a crime to be this gorgeous. Someone tell me how to tell if my one shot is slow burn or not. I'm not very clever. Sorry the ending is so shit lol, I'm very tired and really want to share this and AAAHHHHHH release me from this tormentttttt

Pre-Game

"Okay, everybody, let's set some ground rules before we start." Chris waves his arms to make sure everyone is paying attention. "First off, obviously, nobody is allowed to go outside, okay? Let's keep it fair people. Next, since there's twelve of us and the lodge is so big, we're gonna have two seekers. Thats Josh and Beth, they'll have to wait in here for two minutes while we all hide." The pair wave "Alright, lastly, you're allowed to move as much as you want, but if you're caught you come back to the kitchen until everyone is found. Winner gets the $600." He motions to the locked box that everyone pitched in $50, then hands the key to josh to keep a hold of until the end.

"Right, yeah, we get it. C'mon nobody likes to wait." Mike snaps his fingers, growing impatient, "Lets get going." while Beth sets a two minute timer on her phone, you slowly creep towards the door with a destination already firmly implanted in your mind. A countdown from three starts, your hand twisting the handle of the door, ready to bolt as soon as you hear-

"One!" The timer starts, and by the time everybody is out the kitchen, you're already halfway down the stairs to the basement. You sprint past all the potential hiding spots, far too obvious for someone of your calibre.

The sound of the basement door opening and a two pairs of footsteps make you jump "Mike-" Emily moans into, what you assume is a kiss. You sneak behind a pile of boxes before they can see you. They might not be seekers, but your plans will NOT be foiled by MIKE AND EMILY making out. Absolutely not.

They find some distant corner to hide and do whatever, you poke your head out for a second to check they don't notice you, when you see them firmly 'distracted' you sneak off without making a sound and get past the door at the furthest point in the room, deeper into the basement, and closer to your destination.

The old hotel. Before the Washingtons built the lodge on the mountain, there was a hotel here, they leveled it before construction, but you've spoken to josh about it, apparently remnants have remained down there, completely untouched. There should definitely be somewhere to hide. This would be easier if the two people looking for you weren't the two most likely to have knowledge of the layout of the hotel, but that doesn't mean you give up.

It means you have to be smart, sneaky and fast. You don't even need to be in a great hiding spot, you just need to be the last one found, you need to win. You feel a rush of adrenaline course through you when you see a pair of rotted wooden stairs, YES! It's still here! Soon you find yourself in what probably wouldve been the kitchen, and let yourself stop for a moment to check the time, 22:49. You've been running for five minutes, Josh and Beth have been searching for three.

That thought pushes you to keep moving- past the weird, long, creepy hallways and rooms and... smells. You come to a small room with a cage encasing it, god, how deep into this place are you? This wouldn't be a bad place to stay, if there were hiding spots. You check your phone: 22:52. If you had to guess, Emily, Mike, Hannah and Chris had probably been found by now. But you can't rely on that, time to get moving.

Eventually, the rooms and corners all turn to the one long corridor, stone exterior, definitely man made. Like some tunnel...? To where?? Where would there need to be a tunnel to on the mountain? Well, might as well check it out, not like you're going to lose at this point. If Josh or Beth decide to check the old hotel, they sure as hell aren't coming down this far.

A little ways down the tunnel, you see a huge set of metal double doors, this just keeps getting weirder. Thankfully the doors are open, just enough to squeeze yourself through and continue down. You check the time once you pass the door: 23:07. Oh you've won that $600. No contest. A surge of pride and adrenaline rush through you and motivate you to continue.

Seeing a set of stone stairs is... unsettling. Where they lead to even more so. You cautiously follow them up to a weird, giant room. Dark and abandoned... is this more of the hotel? No way, right? Leaving the room, you see a chain linked door down a tiny hallway, all other directions are blocked off by old furniture, you look through the door...

It seems empty? Just a bigger room, looks semi religious, maybe an old Chapel? You gently push the door open, it's loud, but who cares? Nobody's here anyway. Looking around in amazement, this entire building, untouched by humans in who knows how long, you might be the first person to be inside this building in decades, maybe the last ever! This is all so surreal... your thoughts are interrupted by... a call? You check, Josh. You've only got one bar of service here, it's a miracle any contact was capable of being made. Might as well tease him. You're not going back to the lodge until you're found.

"Heyy-" you start, unable to contain your cheeky giggles

"JESUS, Y/N WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?? Are you okay??" He sounds so relieved to hear your voice

"Yeah, obviously... so what's up, Washin-"

"You won, okay, wherever you are, just come out. We're all freaking out trying to find you"

"Nope." You state simply.

He sighs "You won. Please. You're freaking us out, you weren't supposed to go outs-"

"I didn't." God- its so hard to keep a straight face

"What...? You're still here? We've checked everywhere! I even checked that old hotel! Where are you??"

"No hints. I want one of you to find me." You hang up before he can protest, and check the time briefly: 23:38 before putting it away to explore the building. Along the sides are areas with chain linked walls, it's too dark to discern what's inside them. Except the one with an opening, heading inside you see a map of the mountain, outdated for sure, as it has the hotel labeled instead of the lodge.

From what you can guess, this building youre in is probably the sanatorium. Makes you wonder what happened that caused it to be abandoned. And for the Washingtons to do nothing with it. At the far end of the room, another giant set of double doors, you try to push them open, but they're either locked or way too heavy.

So the other side of the Chapel is your only option. One is completely blocked off, one that leads to another building in the sanatorium is locked and one at the far right takes you to a fenced in area, a makeshift graveyard, every name has the same date under it. Must've been a massacre... that's probably why it was abandoned, jeez... okay, well, that's just a dead end, so you turn back and- why does it feel like you're not alone anymore?

"Josh?" You call out, best case scenario, it's someone from your group and you've just given up your position... worst case... you creep towards the middle of the room "guys?" No response, maybe they're trying to scare you? Would be good payback for the $50 this excursion cost them. "You got me, okay? Come ou-" a screech interupts you, it sounds like an animal in distress, or a warning... "what the fuck?" It's coming from beyond the locked chain link door.

"Hello?" You step towards the sound, the door is locked, nothing will get you, it's fine... "is anyone there?" Another screech, you reach out to investigate the lock... and a gloved hand stops you.

Shit. You feel your blood run cold. This definitely isn't one of your friends. In half a second you whip your arm away and turn to face your assailant- old guy, weird goggles, flamethrower- before he can say a word you sprint across the room, out the door, down the stairs and back into the tunnel. You don't even know if he's following you, all you can hear are your own panicked breaths and your heart thumping so loud it feels like the walls are closing in on you with every beat.

You make it back to the double doors and slam them shut behind you. You can't lock them from this side, so the best you can do is close them and hope it'll slow him. God- you forgot how much of a maze this stupid hotel was, why the hell does there need to be so many hallways and dead ends?? Wait- the kitchen!! Yes! You know exactly where to go now! Just straight up. No more corridors and empty rooms.

The adrenaline has you acting pretty clumsy, tripping over steps, banging into things and slaming through doors. Once you're up that last set of stairs from the hotel to the lodge you start to feel exhausted- no, not yet- keep going, you got this. You reach out and open the door to the main basement, scaring the shit out of Ashley in the process "RUN! Holy shit-" you don't need to tell her twice. She grabs Chris, who was staring and the two run ahead. They hold the door to the basement open for you, after you practically jump up the stairs, somebody slams it shut and locks it.

The relief hits you like a freight train and your legs finally buckle, dropping you to the floor. Everyone hounds you with questions as you pant on the floor, trying to let the cold wood cool you down. You cover your eyes with your arm for a minute.

"What the hell happened??" You hear Matt ask

"I saw- shit- I saw somebody-" You pant- well at least I won't have to work out for the rest of the year. That sends everyone into a panic. More questions are thrown your way, the guys are discussing a plan of defense should it be necessary.

"What the fuck- who??" Jess' question is the one you hear.

"I dunno, some weird old guy- had a pair of goofy goggles and a fuckin' flamethrower." You take in several deep breaths and give Hannah a grateful smile when she hands you a water bottle.

"Where the hell did you go?" Josh gets close to you "where was he??"

You gulp down half the water before answering "I think I was in the sanatorium? I saw a map, I guessed that..." you trail off, everyone's stares making you suddenly self conscious "what?"

"Why the hell were you in the sanatorium?? That's dangerous Y/N!" Josh's concern comes out as a yell, in that way that someone only does when they really care.

"There's a tunnel from that old hotel beneath us to it, I was curious and I wanted to win." You shrug, god- this would be hilarious if it wasn't for that fucking insane person you met.

"There's a tunnel to the sanatorium?" Mike asks for confirmation.

"Yeah. And I won since I never technically went outside, by the way." You remind them. Sure this was a terrifying situation, but fuck it if you were loosing your reward.

"Shut up! Oh my god! There's a crazy guy up here, oh my goddd!" Ashley lashes out, you'd be offended if you hadn't scared her half to death a minute ago.

"Sorry." You mumble, drinking more water- fuck, have you ever sweat this much?

"Was he chasing you? Like, what happened?" Sam asks, always clear headed.

"I don't know, I just got there, Josh called me, I hung up, explored for a bit, heard some sort of animal, and he came up beside me before could see what it was. I just booked it, I didn't hear him I was too freaked." You answer truthfully

Josh takes your hand, seeing him serious is uncomfortable. "You should've come back when I called you."

"I wanted to win, I didn't think I'd see a fucking lunatic-" you attempt to defend your reasoning. was it sound? No. Did it work? Yeah.

"I told you you won." He asserted. He had one of those intense stares. One of the ones you feel a mile away. One that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"I know... I just- I dunno... I wanted to explore. A whole building abandoned and lost to time? I couldn't help it. I was gonna come back after like an hour." You shake your head and sigh "I got excited. I'm sorry I worried you. I wasn't thinking, you know how I get, I'm really sorry"

He sighs. "Just don't do it again"

🦋❄️🦋❄️

🦋Butterfly Effect~ Too Soon...?🦋

❄️The Group Decided To Play Hide And Seek❄️

🦋Y/N Went To The Old Hotel And Found A Secret Tunnel🦋

❄️Y/N Refused To Return To The Lodge❄️

🦋So They Could Explore The Sanatorium 🦋

❄️Y/N Attempted To Investigate The Sound...❄️

🦋And Met The Stranger🦋

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

~ Elliebean714 🦋

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: comfortable 21/10/24 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 945

It's long so below the cut :)

Evan was rudely awoken by the sound of an intermittent... siren? Blinking sleep from his eyes and pressing his glasses over his nose, he noticed the TV in the bedroom was on. He was almost certain he'd turned it off before falling asleep.

The screen was scrolling a message on repeat, Evan squinted to see it through his eyes, which were not taking kindly to the brightness.

"This is a BBC public service announcement. Please standby for more information"

Evan groaned, pushing himself up to sit up and leaning over to shake Barty awake. He whined and pressed his forearm over his eyes, blocking out the light from the TV. Sometimes Evan thought he was lucky to be deaf, he couldn't hear that annoying blaring sound at all. Evan shook him more insisitantly, trying to wake him up properly.

He frowned as he squinted up at Evan "the fuck?" He mumbled, sitting up as well and scanning the TV with his eyes. A monotonous, probably AI, voice began to speak as the words scrolling past changed.

"A global emergency has been declared, remain inside and await further instructions from local authorities"

Evan couldn't help but think that was a bit vague. He stood up and glanced out the window. Outside people were driving away far above the speed limit, and military vehicles were chundering along. One particularly strange thing was armoured vans with the biohazard symbol plastered on them.

Barty seemed to appear at his side, too good at creeping around for his own good. He glanced out the window while adjusting his hearing aids in his ears. He grinned maniacally and rubbed his hand together. "I think it's the zombie apocalypse, Rosie," he murmured almost excitedly. The TV blared the same message again. Somewhere in the distance, there was smoke from a fire.

"Why the fuck are you so comfortable with this?" Evan exclaimed, already digging through his belongings and stuffing things into a bag. He was appalled that Barty not only seemed to be completely free from anxiety but enjoying this whole ordeal.

"I've been researching this," Barty practically giggled with glee, ducking out the way of the window as a bright light travelled past. Barty pursed his lips, seemingly thinking hard for a while.

"This might be my fault" he ended up announcing nonchalantly. Diving over the bed and pulling a set of keys from his bedside table, he didn't even bother to pull on proper clothes before he burst out the bedroom in his boxers. Evan followed, though actually dressed, as Barty flung himself down the stairs and opened the door to the basement.

The basement.

Barty's idea of a home laboratory.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit" he sung out the curse to a little rhythm, pressing a palm into Evan's chest and silently instructing him to stay put while he dragged open drawers and searched through notebooks. Jotting things down all the while, he seemed thoroughly stressed.

"I had a tiny little breach... a single roach escaped, I thought it was just a miscount but that was about a week ago and that's the perfect incubation period" he muttered under his breath, pulling a mouse out of a tank and carefully swabbing it's mouth and preparing some sort of microscope slide. After a few minutes, he placed the slide onto the viewing platform and peered into the eyepiece.

"Fuck" he mumbled, coaxing Evan towards him with a hand gesture. Evan walked over ensuring he didn't touch anything. Barty guided him to look into the microscope, Evan didn't know what he was looking for.

"Do you see a sort of spider web pattern over some of those cells?" Barty prompted, searching through a drawer for something. Evan squinted. He could sort of see what Barty meant - between some of the little globs were lines sort of like plant roots.

"That's hyphae," Barty explained softly as Evan looked at it harder, trying to understand. "Imagine if a mushroom is an apple, the hyphae is the tree," Barty mumbled. His fingers flexed around Evan's T-shirt, riding it up slightly. Evan presumed it was a nervous fidget until he felt a sharp stab against his stomach as Barty pushed the plunger of a syringe.

"What the fuck Bug?" Evan yelped, stumbling back from the microscope and watching as Barty injected himself with a similar looking syringe. Barty shrugged.

"Vaccine," he said simply, carefully disposing of the syringes in a biohazard bucket. "I've been working on genetically merging features of valley fever with zombie ant disease," he added. As if that was a casual hobby. Just when Evan thought Barty couldn't surprise him.

"Why would you actively try to make a human compatible zombie virus?" Evan asked, the panic settling in as Barty frantically checks agar plates with various labels - some of them had tiny mushrooms growing inside them and based on the look on Barty's face that was not good.

"I don't know why Evo, I wanted to know if it was feasible," Barty said defensively, still searching between plates with tiny bits of paper on them. Some of them had none of the weird fluffy white stuff, hyphae?, where the paper was, and that seemed to be a good sign. Maybe?

"Just let me deal with it... you should be safe, I gave you the vaccine I developed, and that's never not worked.... but you are the first human subject, " Barty mumbled, jotting down notes about the plates he was looking at.

"I'll fix this, I swear to you, Bear." Barty smiled at Evan. It was a sheepish smile. But a smile none the less. Maybe things would be okay.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Heist Society by Ally Carter

When Katarina Bishop was three, her parents took her on a trip to the Louvre…to case it. For her seventh birthday, Katarina and her Uncle Eddie traveled to Austria…to steal the crown jewels. When Kat turned fifteen, she planned a con of her own—scamming her way into the best boarding school in the country, determined to leave the family business behind. Unfortunately, leaving “the life” for a normal life proves harder than she’d expected.

Soon, Kat's friend and former co-conspirator, Hale, appears out of nowhere to bring Kat back into the world she tried so hard to escape. But he has a good reason: a powerful mobster has been robbed of his priceless art collection and wants to retrieve it. Only a master thief could have pulled this job, and Kat's father isn't just on the suspect list, he is the list. Caught between Interpol and a far more deadly enemy, Kat’s dad needs her help.

For Kat, there is only one solution: track down the paintings and steal them back. So what if it's a spectacularly impossible job? She's got two weeks, a teenage crew, and hopefully just enough talent to pull off the biggest heist in her family's history--and, with any luck, steal her life back along the way.

Amulet by Kazu Kibuishi

After the tragic death of their father, Emily and Navin move with their mother to the home of her deceased great-grandfather, but the strange house proves to be dangerous. Before long, a sinister creature lures the kids' mom through a door in the basement. Em and Navin, desperate not to lose her, follow her into an underground world inhabited by demons, robots, and talking animals.

Eventually, they enlist the help of a small mechanical rabbit named Miskit. Together with Miskit, they face the most terrifying monster of all, and Em finally has the chance to save someone she loves.

The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Ten-year-old Ada has never left her one-room apartment. Her mother is too humiliated by Ada’s twisted foot to let her outside. So when her little brother Jamie is shipped out of London to escape the war, Ada doesn’t waste a minute—she sneaks out to join him.   So begins a new adventure of Ada, and for Susan Smith, the woman who is forced to take the two kids in. As Ada teaches herself to ride a pony, learns to read, and watches for German spies, she begins to trust Susan—and Susan begins to love Ada and Jamie. But in the end, will their bond be enough to hold them together through wartime? Or will Ada and her brother fall back into the cruel hands of their mother?

Ascendance by Jennifer Nielsen

In a discontent kingdom, civil war is brewing. To unify the divided people, Conner, a nobleman of the court, devises a cunning plan to find an impersonator of the king's long-lost son and install him as a puppet prince. Four orphans are recruited to compete for the role, including a defiant boy named Sage. Sage knows that Conner's motives are more than questionable, yet his life balances on a sword's point—he must be chosen to play the prince or he will certainly be killed. But Sage's rivals have their own agendas as well.

As Sage moves from a rundown orphanage to Conner's sumptuous palace, layer upon layer of treachery and deceit unfold, until finally, a truth is revealed that, in the end, may very well prove more dangerous than all of the lies taken together.

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi

An ocean voyage of unimaginable consequences... Not every thirteen-year-old girl is accused of murder, brought to trial, and found guilty. But I was just such a girl, and my story is worth relating even if it did happen years ago. Be warned, however: If strong ideas and action offend you, read no more. Find another companion to share your idle hours. For my part I intend to tell the truth as I lived it.

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey. 

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule--but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her--even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter

When orphaned, eleven-year-old Pollyanna comes to live with austere and wealthy Aunt Polly, her philosophy of gladness brings happiness to her aunt and other unhappy members of the community.

Paddington Bear by Michael Bond

Mr. and Mrs. Brown first met Paddington, a most endearing bear from Darkest Peru on a railway platform in London. A sign hanging around his neck said, "Please look after this bear. Thank you" So that is just what they did.

From the very first night when he attempted his first bath and ended up nearly flooding the house, Paddington was seldom far from imminent disaster. Jonathan and Judy were delighted with this havoc and even Mr. and Mrs. Brown had to admit that life seemed to be more filled with adventure when there was a bear in the house.

Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke

A dragon. A boy. A journey. Firedrake, a brave young dragon, his loyal brownie friend Sorrel and a lonely boy called Ben are united as if by destiny. Together, they embark on a magical journey to find the legendary place where silver dragons can live in peace for ever. With only a curious map and the whispered memories of an old dragon to guide them, they fly across moonlit lands and seas to reach the highest mountains in the world. Along the way, they discover extraordinary new friends in unlikely places and a courage they never knew they had. Just as well, for the greatest enemy of all is never far behind them - a heartless monster from the past who's been waiting a very long time to destroy the last dragons on earth.

Wings by Aprilynne Pike

Laurel was mesmerized, staring at the pale things with wide eyes. They were terrifyingly beautiful—too beautiful for words.

Laurel turned to the mirror again, her eyes on the hovering petals that floated beside her head. They looked almost like wings.

[annaizscribbling]

one of those Stardew drabbles where the farmer is not quite human but from different villager perspectives. Here's Sebby's

(Pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4) (pt 5) (pt 6) (pt 7)

Sebastian sipped his piping hot coffee. He took it with a bit of cream these days. He was comfortably settled against his favorite windowsill, watching his wife work in the field. The sun politely warmed his pale skin. He’d gained a little color since moving to the farm, but not enough to really lose his sickly pallor. He made sure of that, wearing plenty of sunscreen.

He’s content. It’s nice to feel that way. Living in a stuffy basement, working and isolating himself felt foggy and miserable. But now, he’s happy. Calmer. He managed to get out of that old environment, and here with his wife, life finally seemed to mean something. He doesn’t long to escape and become something, instead, what he already is has become something worthwhile.

Living on a quiet farm, making breakfast for his wife, picking fruit and feeding chickens. It brings out a softness in him, a side that never fully been realized. Tenderness. Serenity. Peace.

Sebastion watches his wife chew some raw seaweed, pulled directly from her little black backpack. She’s never without that bag, as soon as she gets out of bed, it’s over her shoulder until she sleeps again. His eyes trail her bare arms as she clears some rocks. He’d given up on understanding how and why she consumes some strange foods, as long as he can wrangle her into a few balanced meals with him, he doesn’t care too much.

Her muscles are toned, far more defined than his will probably ever be. She hefts her pickaxe high above her head before brining it down onto the stone, shattering it. She’s quick to scoop up the rocks she wants as she kicks the rest to the side. His wife could do it for hours without pause, hours upon hours. Time always seemed to part for her.

She unknowingly flexes her bicep as she prepares to strike again. So strong, he can’t help but lean a little further into the window to catch a good glimpse. The little black tank top she usually wears leaves her deeply tanned olive skin on display. There’s hardly a sheen of sweat on her, which Sebastion always found strange. He takes one step outside on a summer day and he’s instantly disgusting. Somehow every hair on her face is immaculate and the thick eyeliner she applies every morning is always inexplicitly intact.

Perhaps he once thought of her as a strange woman, but now she’s his strange woman. The love of his life, the sexy farmer who he accidently stumbled into a romance with. The quiet, perhaps at times eerie, foreign city girl who changed the whole town. Who changed him …

He enjoyed watching her. It didn’t really matter what she was doing, her existence just drew him in. Sometimes he felt like a housecat unwilling to leave a sunbeam. Her radiance warmed him, calmed him, it made him feel like he was exactly where fate wanted him to be. She was the sun, or at least she was his. It didn’t matter what he was, so long as he could bask in her presence.

Speak of the devil, Sebastian doesn’t realize she’s come back inside until the front door opens. He discovers that he’s smiling before he’s even realized he’s turned his head to look at her.

Short curls that don’t seem to care for gravity and its rules. Freckled olive skin. Big brown eyes that seem to melt anybody who stares into them long enough. Muscles that he longs to caress and be wrapped up in each morning. Big heavy boots who have seen more monster blood and dirt than most do in their lifetimes. A shy smile.

The Farmer. His wife.

“Hey, Babe,” Sebatian says, “want some coffee? I woke up early from a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

She smiles, and it’s so genuine that even now that they’ve been married a year, his heart just swells with that fluttery kinda love. His wife wasn’t a huge talker, it’s not that she didn’t talk at all, but she often spoke with her face. At this moment, her soft eyes are telling him everything he needs to know.

Soon, they’re cuddled together on the big sofa his mother had built. A cup of coffee for each of them rests on the coffee table. She’s resting her head on his lap, looking up at him with a dreaminess he’s sure is present on his own face.

“I have a gift for you,” she whispers, reaching into her bag, which she slipped off her shoulder and onto the rug. “Eyes closed, please.”

Sebastian does as he’s told. He feels her warm hands pry open his cold one, and something chilly is pushed into his palm. One side of his mouth turns up in a knowing smile. He knows what the gift is by the shape, and it charms him just as much as it did the first time she brought him one.

“A frozen tear,” Sebastian says fondly, holding up the glassy, perpetually cold little tear. He loves collecting them, keeping them, studying them. The first one she ever gave him is his favorite. He even had Clint turn it into a necklace. It’s under his hoodie on a chain even now, slightly cold, pressing against his chest, gently reminding him how much somebody loves him.

“It’s perfect,” Sebastian says, rubbing his thumb over the round base of the tear.

She tries to give him another one, but Sebastion laughs and tells her to stop spoiling him. He’ll take it later, when he doesn’t see it coming. One gift a day is already so much, especially combined with getting to hold her every night. A man’s heart can only handle so much.

Sometimes he wonders how she could possibly be of this world. She’s an angel. She’s a celestial being who commands the earth below her feet by purely existing. He’s sure of it some days. The plants grow like they’re reaching for her somehow. The waters always bring a fresh fish for her hook within seconds. The two can go looking for seashells together, but they’ll wash up to shore just for her, surely they must be. She heals weary souls by simply talking to her. Her farm animals love her, managing to produce perfect eggs and milk through their adoration for her.

Sebastion didn’t really know what she was, but he loved her.

[frogsmulder]

34 & 36 msr

The Christmas Ruse

In order to avoid being set up with one of her mum's friends' sons, Scully uses Mulder's help to create a fake relationship. But Mulder doesn't know; about 3.4k words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic

Read on ao3

Deep in the basement of the J Edgar Hoover building, December 23rd, Scully is about to leave the office. Winter coat pulled off the rack, one arm through and then the other, her heels clip towards the door when she stops in her tracks. Hesitating for a brief moment, she considers if she is really about to do this, but the alternative seems far more agonising. Lip caught between her teeth, she turns around to face Mulder, still at his desk. He looks up from the work he is still buried in despite the late hour: everyone else in the building has gone home, save for the janitor and herself. His hair is ruffled, his tie loose and a frown is perfectly sculpted across his brow. She could do worse as friends go. 

“Mulder…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you free tomorrow? About eight?”

He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head in mock consideration. “That's gonna be a little tough for me: I've got a file on a green, furry cryptid here that the higher-ups want caught before he steals all the joy out of Christmas.”

She can't help but roll her eyes. “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Depends: why d’you ask?” He leans forward again, hands clasped together on the desk in front of him, attentive, his whole gaze trained on her. 

“I–” she licks her lip– “I'll pick you up at seven.”

“Ooh a surprise!” he chuckles. “I like surprises. But if it's not a trip to Whoville, I'll be disappointed.”

She laughs, “happy holidays, Mulder,” as she walks out the door.

...

Her mind is blank, clear of any form of thought as the elevator dings, opening to the fourth floor of Hegal Place, Alexandria. She steps forward, automatic pilot steering her to the end of the corridor. If she starts thinking now, everything will cascade into a torrent of worry, and there will be no coming back. Checking her watch, she sees she is earlier than she had anticipated. She raises her knuckles to the wood. And then her hand drops without a sound. What if she is too early? What if she's interrupting him? Turning on her heel she walks back to wait in the car. But that is ridiculous. She should just knock and wait inside if he isn't ready. Yet upon reaching his door, she feels that magnetic repulsion again. Again she turns away. 

This time it isn't her own doubt that stops her but the sound of the door opening behind her. Mulder's head pops out. 

“Hey, Scully!” He grins. “You gonna pace around outside for the next twenty minutes or are you gonna let me invite you in?”

She opens her mouth to say something when he widens the door and motions for her to get moving. His casual nature bemuses her. He saunters in ahead, bare-chested, hair slightly damp, just a pair of jeans, drawing her eyes down to how well they hang on his hips and fit his ass. 

“You didn't give me a dress code: is this alright?” He picks up a black t-shirt and a navy sweater, spinning around to hold them against his chest like a professional designer. 

She smirks, “yeah, that'll do nicely.”

He grins again as he wriggles into the garments. A moment of confusion passes his features before he looks around and bends over to look under the coffee table. Retrieving a bottle of aftershave, he sprays some on, and then looks satisfied with his appearance. Scully certainly is. A waft of the scent captivates her as he puts the bottle back on the table. 

“Good to go?”

He snaps her from her thoughtless mind “Oh, uh, yeah.”

The drive is pleasant enough. Crisp frosted scenery flies by while seasonal songs float from the car stereo. In the corner of her eye, she notices Mulder quietly humming and tapping along to the music, having no right to be as endearing as he is. She smiles, and focuses on the road ahead. 

“So, I am allowed to ask where we are going now, or is it still a surprise?”

“We are going for a Scully Christmas eve dinner. It's, uh, a sort of tradition we have each year: close family get together to share time before the big day tomorrow–before all the aunts come over and fuss over how Christmas should be done properly in the traditional Irish Catholic way.” She laughs a little, remembering how Aunt Marie had to be kicked out of the kitchen by her mother. “And my mom invited you.”

Mulder whistles. “Wow, that's a high honour indeed. I feel bad now coming empty handed.”

“Don't worry, there's a bottle of red on the backseat from both of us.”

“Both of us? Will your mother have something to be suspicious about?” He grins and waggles his eyebrows. 

“It's nothing like that,” she laughs. “She's just been asking after you a lot lately. I think she's secretly trying to adopt you.”

“Well, I couldn't think of a better person to be adopted by than Mrs Scully.”

Scully bites her lip, considering whether to tell him the truth, but decides it isn't worth it. Her mom has already apologised to Jack: he won't be there, and that's the main thing. She grips the steering wheel a little tighter. 

They pull up to the house and she sees Bill’s family wagon is already in the driveway and she curses quietly under her breath, she had hoped to settle in before he showed up. 

She gets out of the car and picks up the bottle of wine. Mulder is waiting for her on the other side, arm curled in invitation. She links her own arm through and shakes her head at how well he's playing the role he doesn't even know he's got. At the top of the path, she nervously opens the door, preparing herself for the evening ahead. The irony is, she would rather be having dinner with just Mulder, but then again she's never managed to be the traditional sort. 

“Hi Mom, Bill, we're here!”

“We're in the kitchen sweetie!” her mother calls back. 

Mulder groans and bends down to whisper harshly in her ear, “You never said Bill Jr was here.”

“I said close family.”

“I think I left my diplomacy mask in the trunk, let me go get it.”

She chuckles and tugs him along to the kitchen. 

She first presents her mother with the wine and receives a big hug in return before Maggie sees who she has brought with her. 

“Oh Fox! How wonderful to see you.” She cups his face and reaches up to kiss his cheek, before standing back, holding by the arms and admiring him. “Although I can't say I'm surprised; Dana has been talking about you a lot lately.”

“Oh really?” Mulder turns teasingly to Scully with his eyebrows raised. 

Maggie laughs, “Yes, I was starting to think she was making the whole thing–”

“Mom!” Scully interrupts, blushing bright red. 

“Sorry, Dana,” She chuckles and releases Mulder back to her. “Would you like some prosecco, the two of you?”

Scully eyes Bill standing a few steps behind their mother, watching Mulder warily. 

“That sounds wonderful, Mrs Scully.”

“Oh, Maggie, please; you're part of the family, Fox.”

“That's very kind of you, Maggie.”

She walks up to him and opens her arms as a peace offering. “Hey Bill, long time no see. Your boat didn't get stuck in traffic this time then?”

He finally relaxes and accepts her hug

“How's my little sister doing?”

“I'm good,” she sighs. “Where are Tara and the kids?”

“She's just giving them a bath before they go to bed.” He steps back and gives her a smile. “Don't worry, they'll be down in time to say good night to their favourite aunt.” 

She smiles to hide the pain of the hidden dig; the absence of Melissa felt the most this time of year. 

“Mom was telling me you brought a date.” He glances back over to Mulder. “Seriously? Him?”

She sighs, knowing this was an eventuality. “I don't want to do this now, Bill, it's Christmas. Can we just leave it alone?”

He steps forward, insistent. “But after all he's done to you?”

“Bill, I won't say it again. He's been there for me and supported me despite what you think.” She looks over to Mulder too, and how easily he talks to her mom. Her mother is right, he is a part of this family even if it's not in the way she thinks. “I don't want any trouble this evening, Bill, please.”

He nods tersely, the matter still clearly bothering him. She decides to leave it and joins Mulder, wrapping herself around his arm and taking the flute of bubbling alcohol gratefully. Despite trying to mask it, Mulder senses her tension and smoothly twines his fingers with hers, grounding her the way no-one else has ever has. 

...

The rest of the evening flows relatively effortlessly as family gatherings go. Matthew comes bounding down the stairs followed shortly by Tara and a baby already sleepy-eyed resting on her shoulder. Matthew runs up to his grandma and jumps onto her lap in the armchair. 

“Are you all clean and ready for bed now?” Maggie coos. 

He shakes his head. “I not tired. Not need bed.” And then he points a finger across the room. “Funny man?”

From the corner of her eye, Scully can see Mulder chuckle next to her as he slowly gets up to introduce himself. 

“Hi, Dana!” Tara offers a wave with one hand, gently bouncing the baby “Sorry I didn't get to say hi earlier I had my hands full.”

“Sure looks that way,” Scully laughs. She gets up to stroke the fuzzy hair of her newest nephew and give him a kiss on his crown. “He's grown so much already,” She marvels. “Oh, this is Mulder by the way–” she gestures over to where Mulder is ruffling Matthews hair– “Mulder, the only other woman besides mom that's been able to keep my brother in check.”

“I see we are going to get along,” Mulder chuckles. 

“Oh he's not that bad really.” Tara looks fondly over at her husband trying to gently extract their son from Maggie’s arms, much to the grumpy protests of Matthew. “He's really a teddy bear underneath it all.”

“Just don't let my crewmen hear about it.”

“No, Daddy, no! Me not tired!”

Bill gruffs and hoists Matthew up, barely holding on to him as arms and legs flail. 

“Can I?” Mulder asks cautiously and Bill gives him a contemptuous look as Scully raises an incredulous eyebrow. 

“You know what day it is today, Matthew?”

The boy rolls his eyes. “Kissmas eve.”

Mulder nods seriously. “And what happens on Christmas eve?”

“Santa comes.”

“But you know Santa only comes if you are asleep. He is very shy.” He leans on conspiratorially to whisper in the boys ear. “He can't bring your presents if you're awake.”

“But... But… I good boy,” he pouts. 

Mulder smiles. “You have to be good all year round, including Christmas eve. And good boys go to bed when their mommy asks them to.”

Matthew considers this for a moment. “You good boy?”

“Yes,” Mulder laughs. “But the question is, are you?”

Matthew nods and clings to his father. “Bed time then Santa?”

“That's right,” Bill chimes in. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” 

He gets up the stairs with little fuss. Over his shoulder a tired child yawns. “Bye bye, aunty Dana!” he says. “Bye bye, funny man!”

On his way past, Tara mouths thank you to Mulder, who waves it off as if it was no big thing. Scully looks at him, mouth hanging open, both her shock and curiosity showing through. She had watched the whole thing unfold in front of her as if it was the most natural thing in the world to him. How? She wonders, while a quieter voice deeper inside whispers dangerous day-dreams. She fights to keep it tamped down, knowing its impossibility; its only real ability to hurt her in the future. 

Maggie pats Mulder's arm as she moves through to the kitchen, pausing to add, “You'll make a great father one day, Fox.”

A strange sting of jealousy sings with that chorus at her mother's words. Scully shakes it off. “Mulder,” she smiles with awe. “How did you know that would work?”

He shrugs. “I guess those hostage negotiation classes paid off.”

She laughs but doesn't let the matter slide. “No, really?”

“I used to encourage my sister to bed the same way. For some reason she listened to me.” He gets a wistful look in his eye. “But there was that one time we conspired to stay up to catch Santa together. Well, our father wasn't very pleased.”

...

Later, sat around the dinner table, Scully edges closer to Mulder, conscious to keep the appearance of the happy couple up. Part of her is anxious that Mulder will become suspicious of her behaviour, question her and force her to reveal her ruse. The other part wars with herself about how easy and natural it is to act like she loves him. She fidgets with the hem of her blouse under the table, straightening herself out as her mother passes out portions of homemade cottage pie. The smell of it takes her back to her childhood when she and her siblings used to fight over who got the leftovers. She remembers Missy taking putty on her and sneaking her some to not make the others jealous. 

“So,” Tara chirps brightly, bringing Scully out of her reverie. “How do you and Mulder know each other?”

She opens her mouth but no words come out, the inevitable question catching her off guard. “Um… We work together… he's my– we're– he's my partner.” She shields her gaze from Bill’s stern stare and catches Mulder's amused smirk. Her cheeks start to burn and she is sure everyone can see her blush. 

“Ahhh.” Tara gives her a knowing smile. “And how long has that been going on for?”

“It's, uh–

“Relatively new,” Mulder fills in for her. Surprised, Scully whips her head to stare at him. 

“Well, I'm glad for you Dana, you look happier than I've seen you in a while. And who knows maybe you'll even get to start a family of your own: he seems great with kids.”

Her mother jumps in before she can reply, sensing her unease, knowing her desires for motherhood will only ever remain as that. “Come now, there's no need for an interrogation,” she jokes light heartedly. 

Scully finally looks to Mulder with a smile and says quietly, “Yeah, he is.”

The blush on his cheeks warms her heart and she licks her lips. Maybe it could be this easy to love him. 

Her mother raises “A toast to this Christmas, to family.”

“And to Mulder and Dana,” Tara adds. 

“Bill,” Maggie smiles. “Will you do the honours?”

Bill nods and clasps his hands together leading everyone into grace with a bowed head and closed eyes. “Bless this food and the hands that prepared it–”

Under the table Scully feels Mulder shift, his hand reaching out to her, fingers walking along her lap to find her hand. She turns it over, allowing him to lace his fingers through hers. She breaks her prayer to look at him, confused but not unpleasantly surprised. With everyone keeping vigil, he smiles softly, privately, as if they were the only two people to exist in this world. When Bill utters the words “Amen,” Mulder squeezes her hand before quickly letting go, moving his gaze elsewhere as conversation resumes.

...

After dinner, Scully, stays sitting at the table for a while, watching the swirling bubble in her flute rise to the top and burst. Tara helps her mother clear away and Mulder quietly excuses himself for some fresh air. She bites her lip, sensing his discomfort with the intimate family setting. She briefly wonders what Christmas eve at the Mulder household is like, before remembering last year he had invited to go ghostbusting. Maybe he would prefer to be there than here, suffocated in an environment he barely recognises. She was too selfish to consider how out of place he would feel, but she can’t deny that having him by her side the last few hours has been an immense source of strength for her. She is not sure she could give up his company even if she wanted to.

Bill’s chair makes a scraping sound against the hardwood floor as he gets up. She glances from her bubbling glance to see him follow Mulder’s direction to the porch. Discreetly, she follows him. Through the front door she can hear his muffled voice stern and gruff: “.... clear Dana likes you… respect her choice but… hurt her again…”

She’s heard enough to know exactly what Bill is saying and she curses him under her breath. Jaw clenched, she turns the handle of the door. “Bill–” she starts.

Bill throws his hands up defensively. “I was just leaving, Dana.” 

She watches as he innocently side steps her and returns to the dining room. Scully turns around again, fingers to her brow, massaging out the frown carved out there, not knowing where to begin apologising.

“How much of that did you hear?” Mulder winces, scratching the back of his neck.

She sighs dejectedly. “Only the important parts.”

He huffs half a laugh. “Only that much, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Mulder. Bill can be…”

“Overprotective?” he laughs again mirthlessly. “Yeah, well, as the older brother I get it: he just cares a lot about you. I only wish that didn’t mean hating me in the process.”

She places a comforting hand on his bicep, pleading silently that he accept her forgiveness for the sin he doesn't know she has committed. She searches his eyes for an answer but before she can find one, Tara walks up to the doorway, catching them.

“Aw don’t you two look cute under the mistletoe.”

“What?” Scully spins around defensively.

Mulder looks up and chuckles. Amidst the heat of the confrontation, she had forgotten the sprig of mistletoe tied to the porch awning. She slowly lifts her head, hoping it’s not still there, but the berries shine white against the green, inviting them to keep up tradition.

“Do you trust me, Scully?”

She looks at him, wide-eyed and hesitant. “Yes, but–”

Before she can finish the thought, Mulder is leaning in, warm hand pressed against her cheek, the other holding her steady at her hip. His lips meet hers as soft and as light as a feather touch, barely a whisper of the possibilities she now finds herself fantasising. All too soon, he draws back, leaving her bereft of his heat, his touch. His thumb still draws back and forth across her skin as she languidly opens her eyes again, seeing his smile in a new light. All the world goes quiet and numb save for the man standing in front of her, still holding on, still smiling. Conscious thought leaves her brain; her worries and doubts disseminated like dust on the wind. Old fortresses crumble and fall and she reaches up to brush her finger against his lips, testing this new reality she finds herself in. Lead by pure instinct she follows her finger and kisses against hers li him again, craving the feel of his lips brushing against hers like oxygen after seven years of holding her breath. Hesitantly, she deepens the kiss, exploring the taste of his lips, his tongue. When he reciprocates she sighs contentedly, floating towards heaven.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against hers. “Now are you gonna tell me why your whole family thinks we are dating?” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. “Or do I have to ask them?”

“I–” she stutters over her words half in relief, half realising the ridiculousness of it all. She hides her face buried deep in his chest, laughing through, “I didn’t want mum to set me up with one of her friends' sons again.” 

“And I was the perfect lie?” he teases her with a shit-eating grin.

“As far as boyfriends go, I could do a lot worse.”

“So, it’s official–” he tilts her head back to look at him and brushes her hair from her face– “this is our first date.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” she laughs.

“Hey, Scully–” he gives her another chaste kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

She smiles against his lips. “Merry Christmas.”

[firstemcee]

“Nah, It’s all good.”

Veneer x Male!Hip-Hop/Rap artist!Reader (can be read as female or gn, i jus feel like they’re male leaning. uses amab pronouns.)

Part 1(you’re here)—Part 2—

Warnings: just cursing, as far as I know. Reader is written to talk like how I do, which might be a bit confusing to some. No use of y/n.

wc: 799

Summary: Finally getting your first vinyl on the shelves of the record shop that was practically your whole childhood was a huge accomplishment. That accomplishment also came with the well known pop-star coming to get one signed!

THIS IS ALSO MY FIRST FANFIC!! This part is gonna focus more on reader, the second will focus more on Veneer.

thank you @nym-blogs and @miralunawritez for helping me and giving me tips!!! I owe y’all, seriously 🙏🏽

“I can’t be happier my record’s being sold here, man. Really, i’m honored.” You smiled, giving the owner of the small record shop a subtle nod as you spoke with genuine happiness in your tone.

This record shop had been around since you were just a kid, and now you’ve got your first record on the shelves…here. It was just perfect.

The owner gave a small nod in return with a smile, going back to…whatever he was working on.

Award Tour (feat. Trugoy the Dove) - A Tribe Called Quest (I’d say listen to it just for vibes, but you don’t gotta) played quietly in your wired headphones, causing you to slightly nod your head to the beat as you made your way through the isles full of records in search of your own.

You never thought you’d end up here. Doing rap battles in middle school, messing around with different beats in your parent’s basement. Now you’ve finally made a name for yourself.

It brought a huge smile to your face, really. Like a kid getting just what they asked for on christmas, it was perf-

“Oh- I’m so sorry.” A guy spoke softly with hands raised in defense before you after bumping into you. You recognized this guy, who was it again…?

“Nah, it’s all good.” You spoke with a smile and a slight nod to the person who you had finally identified as the overnight pop-star, Veneer. “Nice to see you here.” You murmured, not wanting to cause too much disruption to him. You figured he was used to being interrupted when out, so you wouldn’t give him the whole: ‘Oh my godd, you’re that famous guy!! What’re you doing here—‘

Once you had finally made your way to your record, you gently picked one of them up with a proud sigh and the smile of an accomplished father. You couldn’t help but admire the art, the font, the…everything. Shit, it was yours! You’d look at it all you wanted.

You weren’t gonna look at it forever, of course. You set it down and left the store for a moment to go get a drink from one of the vending machines outside of the shop, returning to the checkout area afterwards while sipping your Fanta.

“You know, some couple just bought your record. First hour and you already got a sale, man.” Your friend at the register subtly congratulated you, earning a smile back.

Sure, one sale in an hour wasn’t much. But you were trying to break out of the underground rap. Plus, it’s a small store, you convinced yourself.

Off of work for the day, you decided to pay the shop a visit…again.

And in that visit, you found yourself looking around the back rooms behind the counter curiously. Until your name was called. “Uh— Yea! Give me a minute…” You murmured informally, stumbling out of the creaky door before making eye contact with the pop-star…again.

“He wants you to sign a record.” Lenny, one of the two guys that ever worked here spoke flatly before handing you a nice pack of bold markers with a raised brow.

“It’s a few. Just for a friend.” Veneer placed three of your vinyls on the counter before you with a sheepish smile. It’s not every day that you were the one signing something for a famous person. So of course, you picked up the yellow paint marker and gave him a small thank you before staring down at the vinyl. “Shit. How does my signature go again…?”

You shook your head to dismiss your thoughts and signed all three in yellow, brows furrowed for a moment as you smoothly glided the marker along. So focused that you didn’t notice the absolute daggers Veneer was staring into you as he watched you do so.

“So, do you uh…come here often?” Veneer asks, snapping out of his small trance and clasping his hands together in front of his chest. His poor choice of small talk made you crack a smile.

“On occasion, yeah. It’s a spot I used to come to a lot as a kid, brings back good memories.” You tried to make him more comfortable, noting his nervousness.

You handed the three back after they had dried, and set the maker down. Of course you weren’t gonna charge him.

Veneer, typically caught up in his fame, never spent any time venturing into different genres of music besides his own. So when he came over to his friends house and happily handed her her birthday gift, the signed vinyls, he was incredibly curious to hear this guy’s music. He had a pretty face, it couldn’t be that bad…

“Oh. My. G- No you didn’t.” The girl’s jaw dropped as she looked over the gift, then to Veneer. Then the gift, then Veneer…before trapping him in a suffocating hug.

“Okay! okay, oh my god, you’re welcome girl—“ Veneer stammered and patted her back with a loud laugh, though desperately trying to make her let go.

When the two eventually started listening to the music, Veneer was practically entranced. It was so different from him and Velvet’s style!

It was so energetic, but still just…calm. And it conveyed so many different emotions and there were so many words—

Clearly he wasn’t used to it.

But he didn’t mind it, not at all.

Again, this is my first fanfic!! I’d appreciate any tips you guys have if i end up doing a second part. Thank you so much for reading.

under no circumstances do i accept you posting my shit on other sites. don’t.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 5

Warnings: blood, vampire night club, kidnapping of human, intimate vampire whump/blood drinking and violence, dominance power move

He'd terrified the little creature half to death – he hoped it would still be functional enough to talk later. It would be a pity to break him so quickly.

The rest of the car ride was peaceful, aside from the muffled sobs coming from Alex's new prisoner. But the vampire turned on the radio to drown it out with some classic country music. It wasn't long before they reached his two-story house. It wasn't quite big enough to be called a mansion, but it was no small place, either. Alex used to find its size overwhelming, but he'd grown to enjoy the solitude over time.

The car engine rumbled to a stop, and Alex got out, excitement lighting up his face as he went to retrieve his human. He opened the back to find the creature huddled up against the far door, curled into an awkward ball as it cowered away from him.

It was kind of amusing. One lesson was all it had taken to turn this hunter into an obedient puppet -- but he knew better than to let his guard down. The hunter could just as easily be trying to lull him into a false sense of security.

"Are you going to behave?" Alex grabbed one of the hunter's ankles, dragging him out of the car. The human yelped in surprise, kicking at his hand but the vampire didn't let go, casually dragging him across the ground toward the front door.

He hauled his catch inside, heading straight toward the basement where he took the hunter down some wooden stairs to meet the cold concrete below. A basement was a good place to keep him, right? Nice and secure. He tossed the human ungracefully into the center of the room, and the creature cried pitifully as it hit its shoulder rather hard on the floor.

Alex rolled his eyes. Humans were so dramatic. "You're staying here for tonight," he said. He decided to leave the hunter tied up, just as a precaution. There wasn't anything in the basement as of now, so nothing to use as weapons -- but there was a reason hunters were hunters, and that was because they could kill vampires. So he could never be too careful.

"Are you finally feeling like telling me your name before I go?" He ventured gruffly. "Or do I have to pick a name for you instead?”

The human mumbled something, and Alex strained his ears to pick it up. "It's... Mallory."

"What kind of name is that?" Alex sneered. "Fine. Goodnight, Mallory... I'll get you more settled in tomorrow." And then he left his human in a crumpled heap on the cold floor, locking the basement door from the outside.

-------------------------------------------------------

Alex was overly excited the next night to see his new human. And he could use a snack. He unlocked the basement door and cautiously opened it, bracing himself for an ambush. But there was none. The hunter was still collapsed on the floor where he’d left him, wrists and ankles bound. But it was clear the man had still tried to slip out of them, from the red marks a little further up his arms and legs.

“Hey. Mallory, right?” Alex gracefully descended the stairs.

The hunter jumped in surprise, then craned his head to glare hatefully at him.

“Buzz off, bloodsucker,” Mallory snapped.

“Aaaaand the attitude’s back,” Alex chuckled. “Already recovered from yesterday?”

Mallory winced, and Alex's face lit up with delight as the hunter's scowl grew even more venomous.

"Oooh, someone's got a spine," he cooed mockingly.

"Untie me and I'll show you exactly how much spine I've got," Mallory challenged.

"Fine." Alex walked over to him, and Mallory stiffened as he leaned over -- and untied him.

Mallory sprung to his feet the instant he was free, backing away from the vampire until he hit the far wall, eyeing him warily.

Alex flashed him a fang-filled grin, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am now the only thing standing between you and the exit. If you can fight me and win, I'll let you go. But if you lose..." He touched the tip of his tongue to one sharp fang, eyes glittering with malice. "...I get a snack. Deal? I'm curious to see how well a trained hunter can fight."

"I don't get any weapons, no stakes or silver, nothing?!" Mallory complained loudly.

"No. Just old fashioned hand-to-hand combat."

"That's not fair and you know it!" Mallory argued angrily.

"I never said I play fair," Alex rumbled, taking a menacing step forward. "I'm only giving you this chance because I find it fun. I'm going to get what I want either way. So go ahead and attack me -- maybe you'll even manage to land a few blows first. Surprise me, human. Don’t be shy."

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whump-queen

[oliversrarebooks]

Hunting Dog Part One: Lowell's Mistake

Masterlist

This is a spinoff of The Rare Bookseller! It takes place in the same world, but you don't have to have read Bookseller to understand this story.

April 1922

TW: human auction, capture, drugging

Oh, he'd hit the absolute motherlode.

Lowell couldn't believe that the tip he'd received at the speakeasy had actually panned out. He'd spent all night in surveillance observing the vampires  -- and there was no question that they were vampires -- bustling in and out of the old but well-kept mansion. With a specially crafted scent to disguise the smell of his blood and the moon nearly full, it hadn't been difficult to conceal himself in an a gnarled oak tree and confirm that this was likely the infamous, elusive auction house.

He watched cars and carriages arrive and depart, well-dressed vampires chatting on the porch, struggling humans being dragged into a basement entrance, and clearly enthralled individuals carrying out trash and carrying in crates of supplies, their sleepwalking movements and glassy eyes apparent even from a distance. If this wasn't the auction house itself, it was certainly a major hotbed of vampire activity, more than worth his time.

Every vampire hunter worth his salt dreamed of finding and taking down the auction house. Between all the thralls the hunter's guild had rescued over the years, they had a very good idea of what the interior was like, how they processed humans, and what kind of clientele frequented the place. But no thrall knew where it was located -- about an hour away from the city by carriage, somewhere secluded in the countryside, memories far too vague to have any success locating it. The vampires were careful to make sure that the thralls were unconscious, drugged, or hypnotized while taking them to and from the cursed place.

Lowell hadn't thought much of the alcohol drenched, barely lucid man who had stumbled into the speakeasy that night, until he claimed that he had escaped from a fledgeling vampire. Purchased at the auction for a thousand dollars, a pitiful sum for a human life, the poor thrall had managed to get free in just two months' time. His memory of the auction house had proved shockingly clear, giving Lowell the final few clues he needed to track the place down.

And now, it was within his sights, that wretched house of misery where humans were bought and sold like meat at a butcher's. Even now, within those walls, innocent victims were having their minds spirited away, their wills bent towards serving monstrous masters, their very lives stolen from them.

All there was to do was wait until sunup, when he'd have all the advantages against sluggish vampires who could not flee outdoors. He briefly toyed with the idea of gathering more hunters and returning the next day, before discarding it. The security around the auction house, especially as the sun began to rise and the vampires retreated within, appeared to be minimal. It was obvious that they counted on secrecy and remoteness as their main way of keeping humans out -- the security was no doubt focused instead on keeping humans in.

And if the allure of being the vampire hunter to destroy the notorious auction house was clouding his judgement a tad... well, you didn't get to be a hunter with this many dustings under your belt without a lot of confidence and a lot of risks.

Once the sun had crested the hills and the vampires had all either left or gone back within, the only souls remaining outside the mansion were some unfortunate thralls enlisted as guards. While they had clearly been chosen for strength and size, their slow reactions were no match for a hunter in possession of his full faculties. Lowell quickly dispatched the guard near the basement door with a sedative dart, liberating the poor man of his keys and entering the building. He used a small block of wood to prop the door open, a trick he'd learned from well-seasoned hunters to always leave himself an escape route.

The vast majority of vampire manors Lowell had entered were ornate and packed wall-to-wall with furniture and collectibles suiting the vampire's particular desires, an expression of their innate possessiveness. Lowell knew for sure that he was in the auction house and no ordinary manor the second he laid eyes on the hallway -- painted white, free of obstruction, sterile, resembling a hospital or military base.

It was deathly quiet, so Lowell took extra care that his footsteps did not make noise against the polished wood floor, lest he alert any vampire that happened to be awake. He passed a few rooms, cautiously peering in with weapons drawn. One was an infirmary, one was a shower, one seemed to be an office, another couple were occupied primarily by padded chairs with leather restraints. 

The laundry room and kitchen each had a couple of dazed thralls doing chores. In each case, Lowell shut the door again before they noticed, if they were even capable of noticing. The guild would have a lot of work on their hands rehabilitating all of these thralls once he cleaned out the vampires, that was for certain.

Truthfully, Lowell didn't have a lot of patience for thralls himself. He felt compassion for innocent victims, and tried to rescue them when possible, but when it came to rehabilitating them... he couldn't stand their foggy, dazed expressions, their nervous flinching, the way they laced their speech with 'sirs' and empty courtesies. He especially hated to hear freed thralls begging for the touch of a cruel master, longing for fangs in their neck even months after rescue. So many of them who tried to live on their own ended up back in the sway of a vampire within a  year or less. Once easy prey, always easy prey.

Lowell was eternally thankful that he was a predator instead.

Rounding the corner, he encountered the first vampire, a drowsy, scrawny thing stationed in front of a double door. It was beyond obvious that he'd never encountered a threat before -- even with his vampiric reflexes, he was far too slow to react before Lowell was on top of him, hand pressing to his mouth to stifle his cry, a sure hand driving a wooden stake straight through his heart.

It was easy. This had all been easy so far. Too easy, for such a legendary place. He knew he shouldn't let his guard down as the dusted vampire had.

But maybe this would be easy. After all, it was clear that the vampires were only concerned about humans escaping, not humans infiltrating. And despite their enhanced strength and senses and their many supernatural powers, vampires weren't especially clever compared to humans. Undeath and immortality made them stagnate -- most vampires were eternally stuck in their ways, and that made them careless and unimaginative. Lowell couldn't help the rush of pleasure that came with beating the vampires right in their own territory.

He quietly pushed open the double door, crossbow at the ready, cracking it just slightly with a doorstop. It was a long, dark hallway, and the scattered noises Lowell could hear didn't sound like vampires. It sounded like soft breathing, quiet snoring, the occasional mutter or sob. It was pitch black, and Lowell had to risk lighting a match, its flickering light revealing iron-barred cells. 

Holding cells for the poor humans waiting to be processed into thralls, just as he'd expected. The motherlode, indeed. Most of the humans seemed to be either asleep or unresponsive as he passed their cells. It was just as well, because it meant they couldn't raise an alarm. 

"Ah --" 

Lowell could see his matchlight reflected in a pair of terrified eyes, hands gripping the bars of her cell. "Shhh, be quiet," he said.

"Sorry," she said in a voice so quiet that he could barely hear her. "Are you... you're not a vampire, are you? Are you here to rescue us?"

"Yes," he said, with a swell of pride. "That's the idea."

"Oh, thank you, thank you. They told me I was going to be taken and hypnotized tomorrow night -- and I've been so scared -- I want to go home, please -- "

"All right, all right, keep your voice down and let me do my work."

"Of course," she said, slinking back into the shadows. "Thank you, thank you."

As Lowell approached the other end of the hall, he could see another pair of double doors, and considered his options. The doors hadn't been locked against his entry, but if the vampires were concerned about potential thralls escaping, they might lock the doors to prevent exit. If he tried them, he'd be likely to alert the vampire guard that may be lurking on the other side, who could fetch backup.

Too risky. He'd have to go back the way he came. 

But when he turned around and reached the door he had entered, he found it shut tight.

No -- he had certainly left it propped open. There was no way it had closed without him hearing it, not unless --

Shit, they were onto him.

He dropped his match, snuffing it out with his foot while preparing his crossbow. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his nerves steady. There might not be many vampires in the auction house at this hour. This wasn't even the worst situation he'd ever been in. He'd fight his way through them and have an amazing story to tell the guild once they showed up here to help with the cleanup.

Several tense moments passed as the hunter readied his weapons and reassured himself of his impending victory.

The double doors at both ends of the hall slammed open, and the electric lights overhead flashed on and off in quick succession -- with his eyes acclimated to the darkness, he was blinded, shooting his bow half on instinct. He shot one in the shoulder -- saw another crumble to dust -- before cold hands wrapped around his arms, forcing his crossbow to drop and pinning him against a vampire.

Vampires weren't any more clever than humans, but they were strong. Even the weakest looking vampire was stronger than any ordinary human. That's why hunters relied on skill and surprise, because their odds were so poor when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

This was it, then. He'd fucked up, and this was how he died. It was happening so fast. He'd had this nightmare so many times, and he braced himself for a knife in his gut or a snap of his neck. At least he'd died bravely. The way he always wanted to go out, really, fighting the goddamn leeches.

But then a damp cloth was pressed against his face, a cloth with a thick chemical smell. His eyes widened as he realized that he was going to be subjected to a fate far worse than death.

Capture. They were going to capture him, and with vampires, that only meant one thing -- they were going to try and make him into a thrall. A nightmare worse than death, one that he'd never even let himself entertain. 

He saw the cruel grins of the vampires surrounding him as two of them held him tightly restrained and another pushed the cloth firm against his face. He held his breath, thrashing, hoping for an opening to escape, even as their grip held firm.

A vampire with the appearance of a young, innocent woman was standing nearby, watching the scene, yawning wide. "Nice work," she said. "Worth staying up late for."

"Are you sure you don't want to kill him? I mean, he just dusted Tim," said the vampire holding the cloth.

"He's too valuable to kill. A hunter turned thrall will make a fine prize. I know just the right buyer, too."

No! No, he couldn't let it happen. That would never happen. He couldn't be a mindlessly adoring pet to some prideful, cruel monster. He couldn't fawn and offer his blood and call a vampire 'sir'. That couldn't be him. He'd rather die, he'd so much rather die.

He wasn't fucking prey.

But his struggles were fruitless, especially as more vampires surrounded him and helped to immobilize him. He couldn't hold his breath forever, and he was forced to gulp down the noxious drug along with the air he needed. His head started to spin, his extremities going numb.

He had to get free, right now, before it was too late.

But as he began to sag in the vampires' arms, his limbs heavy and his eyelids beginning to droop against his will, he knew in his heart it already was too late. He was growing exhausted, the drugged cloth slowly but surely putting him under, and his fight to wrench himself from the vampires' grasp had now transitioned into a fight to keep himself awake. 

"That's a good hunter," cooed the young woman, petting his hair, and he was too drowsy to move his head away. "Just go right to sleep. I'll take such good care of you."

"You won't. Whatever you're planning... it won't work," he said with all of the fire he could muster, his voice muffled by the cloth. "You might have caught me, but you're not going to turn me into some pathetic, simpering thrall."

"Oh, I'll do that and more," she said, her sugary voice growing more sinister. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be nothing more than an eager little puppy of a thrall, laying at a vampire's feet and begging to be fed on."

The thought sickened him. He thrashed weakly, one last vain attempt to get free, but it was beyond hopeless. The urge to just shut his eyes and go to sleep was so strong, and every blink made it harder for him to open his eyes again. But he couldn't sleep, couldn't let the bloodsuckers take his mind.

"Aww, is the mighty hunter getting sleepy?" She scratched lightly at his scalp, a gesture which might be affectionate under different circumstances. "Go to sleep," she sang in a mocking lullaby, "go to sleep, go to sleep, little hunter..."

"No... don't..." His head sagged forward into the cloth, his vision blurring, his eyelids fluttering.

"Off to dreamland with you now, little hunter-thrall. You'll feel so much better after a little nap. And once you wake up, we're going to have so much fun together."

Lowell could do nothing but groan, defeated, as his eyes closed and refused to open again. His mind began to drift far away as he sank helplessly into a drugged sleep.

Masterlist

I'm not sure how many parts this side story will have, but knowing me, too many.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ - Chapter 8

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,872 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language and events, foul language. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use discretion.

A/n: This chapter escalates very quickly. I want to point something out though, as I feel it is important to note which can be found at the bottom of this chapter due to it being a spoiler. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag-List: @fan-goddess

Chapter 8

The sun began to pass the middle of the sky, your clothes were wet after you raced to put them on when Tommy left the pond running.

You walked through the forest, juniper trees are sparingly dispersed with the mesquite, the thick branches are heavy with blue buds which smell like cedar. As you get to the edge of the forest you smile as the dangling foliage of the mesquite tickles your shoulders when passing through.

You get inside the house and Luda Mae lets out a sigh of relief,

“Oh sweetheart, I was worried sick about you. Thought you went and got lost in the dang wilderness!”

You wrinkle your brows upwards, you feel awful having made Luda Mae stressed,

“I’m so sorry! I saw a pond when I was exploring and couldn’t help but go for a swim, it was refreshing” you say apologetically,

Luda Mae smiled as she put her hands on her hips,

“You went as far as the pond? Lord, I haven’t been out there in ages. You best try to avoid going through that forest alone hun, it has a lot of dangerous old garbage left over from past times. Take Thomas with you when you next feel like a swim, he knows the forest well.”

You smirk to yourself thinking about Tommy getting all wet and upset in the pond with you, but then you realized she must have not seen him come in yet, -she would have seen him soaking wet and known he was with me?- You look out the window to see if Tommy was in the barn, Luda Mae noticed you looking outside frantically so she asks,

“Everything all right dear? You look like a hen searchin’ for seeds.”

You turn to her and ask,

“Did you see Thomas come in at all?”

“Charlie said he saw Thomas head inside and go to his room, something happen?” she sounded confused as to what he problem could be.

“Oh no, I just…” you paused and thought it may be best to not let her know you were flirting naked with her son in the pond, “…wondered why he wasn’t up here getting his lunch is all.” You hoped to sound authentic.

Luda Mae squinted her eyes at you through her glasses, she didn’t say a word for a good minute,

“That’s strange, I told him to come right back with you for lunch. He’s usually mighty hungry by this time of the day. I’ll go check on him.” She made her way towards the basement door but turned to you and said, “You didn’t see him at all out there?”

“I was just swimming in the pond” you felt bad not being honest but it wasn’t like you were lying, you were just swimming after all. She closed the door behind her as she entered the basement, you hoped Tommy would keep it on the down low about you being a total tease in the pond -I don’t think Luda Mae would want to hear about her son being a peeping tom- you hoped you could get him to ‘accidentally’ peep on you once more just to see his pants get tight again; it was a unique experience to be so perverted after so many years of chastity. You wanted to let yourself loose and play with danger, the thrill gave you adrenaline that aroused you deeply, but you knew there could be serious consequences if Thomas was the kind of man to go too far when giving in to temptation.

Luda Mae returns, she looks a bit upset and it had you panicking internally,

“Is he ok?” you ask hastily,

She tightens her lips into a crooked form, and raises an eyebrow,

“He was gettin’ changed and said he wanted to be left alone. I’m gonna bring his lunch down to him. Must be tired from all the work he’s been doin’ in the barn what with moving all that old lumber ‘round and what not.”

You feel relieved to hear he didn’t tell her what he got up to, but you didn’t like keeping things from Luda Mae. A feeling entered your mind, one of regret and anxiety, -oh no, what if he’s mad at me? Maybe I overstepped a boundary and now he doesn’t want to see me!- In your excitement of being a tease you didn’t stop to think how it could actually be hurtful to him, -maybe he feels embarrassed or violated, or something because of what I did, fuck!- Now you felt sick, you wanted to go check on him and ask if you upset him and apologize if you did but you decided to give him space and try to talk with him tomorrow.

After you ate your lunch, you spent most of the afternoon moving your belongings into the room Luda Mae gave you. The shelves and armoires were big enough to fit everything you owned if you wanted, and the bay window was so charming next to the writing desk, it made you feel so happy being able to live with this family.

Dinner time rolled around and you didn’t see Thomas come up at all, Luda Mae had to go bring his dinner down to him. That night you slept poorly, the whole night was just rumination about what you might have done wrong and how you ruined everything by letting your libido take priority for once, -of course the one time I let loose, I get punished. Why do I have to live quietly, why can’t I just give in and be free with my body!?- You felt cursed.

-

You woke up early the next day and put a robe over your racy night garments, you wandered slowly toward the kitchen to grab some coffee and toast, you were still feeling anxious and upset from last night and were not in the mood to eat much of anything. Of course, Luda Mae was already up bright and early, her hair was frazzled and she was wearing a long white nightgown like a Victorian estate owner,

“Hey hun, how did you sleep?” her voice was gravelly and quiet, you didn’t want to worry her so you lied and said it was very good. You went on to ask,

“I need to do some laundry, is there a washer and dryer in the house somewhere?”

Luda Mae nodded slowly, she said,

“Down in the basement, there’s a room with a washer but no dryer, it went and broke on us a few years back and we just hang it all outside now. Theres a clothing line out back, I can show you when the washers finished.” You thank her and finish up your measly excuse for a meal and head to the restroom to get your laundry bin.

You look in the mirror and realize -oh shit, Tommy’s down there! I should freshen up a bit- You brush your teeth and pin up your hair in a cute half up-do, you find a more attractive robe, a short one, black with cherry pattern details on it, you made this one yourself with silk, it matched your sleeping garments. You spritz on a gentle, fresh perfume and thank god that your lash extensions were lasting this long.  If you were going to apologize to the man, you might as well look cute doing it, -I hope he is more inclined to forgive someone who looks cute…-

The basement door was really damaged, there were deep cuts and scuffs in the wood which led to the paint cracking all over the place. You felt a bit nervous going down to his domain but you were determined to make things right. Luda Mae passed by on her way upstairs and said,

“Make sure you stay down there for the whole wash cycle hun, the dang thing sometimes stops and has to be manually resumed.” She continued on her way upstairs.

You take a few steps; it was exceedingly dark and you weren’t able to see much, you carefully felt for each step with one foot as you made your way down, your red, fluffy, low-heeled slippers didn’t help much. Nearing the bottom, you see a dim light from an old bulb, it’s enough to help you see the rest of the stairs. The basement was quiet and dark, it creeped you out but it was clean at least. The floor was lined with old cement, you saw a long hall where on the left side there was one enormous sliding door made of steel, on the right you saw a small interior door, an old double door next to it, and towards the end there was a corner, all you could see was a dim red light. You were curious about the basement, but it scared you too much to look around, so you look for the laundry instead.

You turn to the right and see that right next to the staircase was an alcove with an old top-load washer and dryer, you walk over to it, the floor to this alcove was old crème colored tile and dark greyish-blue walls, there was a fluorescent light that flicked on when you used the light switch on the wall, it quietly buzzed at you which just added to the eerie feeling. You let out a sigh and began placing your clothes into the old washing machine, there was powder detergent sitting on the ledge of a tub sink where the washer would flush out the dirty water after its cycle.

When everything was ready to go, you turned on the washer and it quietly starting gushing water onto the clothes. You look behind you and see no one is around, you feel a bit anxious, hoping Tommy would come out at any moment and let you know what was on his mind, but the hall remained empty. You waited for a while and got bored of having nothing to look at, so you decide to wander the hall and see what the red light around the corner was.

As you rounded the edge of the wall you saw an old walnut wood door, there were small brass letters nailed into the door that spelled ‘T.H’ the red color of the light gave the area a menacing appearance. -well now I know which door I can’t go through- you decide to head to the old double door and take a look inside; this room was horribly dark, the slot windows were covered in overgrown plants and the wall on the doors side had a massive creepy looking furnace from another time, the rest of the room was sparsely riddled with old furniture and junk.

This basement was fairly boring to you, the small interior door only led to a dingy washroom with a horribly outdated and unkept tub and shower head. The final door was the huge steel sliding door, it looked like the kind of door you would see in a fish market, this made you curious. You tried to push the door but it was unreasonably heavy, you put your whole-body weight into it and it barely moved. The more you tried the more you were out of breath, you took a second to rest before trying again, this time it was able to budge far enough for you to get a glimpse into the darkness where you could barely make out some silhouettes – are those…hanging hooks?-

Just when you wanted to push for a better view, the door is forcefully slammed shut, your arm is grabbed and you are spun around with your back pushed into the cold steel making you let out a soft whimper. You look up to see Tommy looking down at you, his massive hand was effortlessly pinning your arm against the door, his other hand on the door itself keeping it firmly closed. Your other hand was free, trying to steady your body as it flattened against the sliding door.

“Tommy!” you said his name with surprise, you didn’t even hear him leave his room.

He slowly released your hand and backed away, closing his eyes in relief, he pointed at the door and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed in there.” You spoke earnestly.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, and hung his head as he rested his other hand on his hips, he nodded and made his way back to his room, but you call out to him before he could turn the corner,

“Tommy wait, I want to talk to you if that’s ok?”

He turned and came back up to you, the top of his chest was exposed from his grey tank top which had a damaged rock band logo on it; he had soft and loose black cotton pants on that had a handmade drawstring which dangled lazily over top his generous mound. He still had on that leather face mask, it did nothing but tease you, it felt like you would never get to see his true face.

Tommy followed as you walk over towards the washer which had just finished its spin cycle,

“Sorry, I need to get my clothes out of the wash. I wanted to ask if you were mad at me?”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, he looked perplexed by your words but did not respond, so you continue,

“After how I behaved in the pond yesterday, I didn’t know that it upset you and I wanted to apologize.”

Tommy let out a sigh, you felt alone in this one-sided conversation, you wish you could read his mind. You turn your back to him so you could continue grabbing your damp laundry, you follow up saying,

“I didn’t know where your boundaries were and maybe I was feeling a little too confident, I feel like I was inappropriate. I want to know how you feel about it.”

You don’t hear him say anything, you expected him to be silent, yet you still wanted to offer the option to respond. Just when you think you were annoying him further, you are pressed against the washing machine from behind, large arms cover over top of yours and his hands pin yours down, they were so big that they fully covered your own entirely. Your whole body is caged in by Tommy’s massive form, you could feel your heart beating so fast you thought it would explode.

Having this beast of a man enshroud you like this was a swift reminder of just how powerful he was, you could feel an ache inside you, a wet slick began to form between your legs and the moment felt intoxicating. Tommy leaned down, your body was unable to resist following his motion, he had you bent forward and unable to move, but you didn’t want to move. You instinctively arch your back and press into Tommy’s pelvic area, you could feel a growing density press through his soft cotton pants and into your delicate center.

You hitched a sharp breath when he pushed himself into you, it was overwhelmingly erotic and before you could let out a moan you hear him speak,

“You fear me?” his deep growling words were carried by a smooth southern accent, you could hear him begin to breathe a bit heavier.

You bite your lip, and reply in a breathy whisper,

“Yes”

He let out a low, amused laugh. For some reason you felt like being bratty, you couldn’t help but push him, seeing if he would snap and do something about you,

“I’m going to keep doing it”

He lets out a playful “Hm?” he knew what you wanted to keep doing but he wanted to hear you say it. His body now pressing in tightly, making it hard for you to breathe, your breasts began to spill out of the robe which caught his eye. He was now so firm that it hurt your soft folds through your panties, this did nothing but burgeon fluids further out of your entrance which soaked the fabric barrier between you both. You continue, your tone now devilish and seductive,

“I’m going to keep pushing you, until you unravel.”

Tommy knew he could never let loose how he wanted, but he liked playing your little game. He never felt such raw emotion before and you made him feel crazy with desire.

He lowered his head so his mouth was just above your ear, and spoke hushed, but firm,

“Good”

-----------

He releases you from his grip and heads back to his room. You remain there still, and speechless, you were left an aroused mess from the interaction, but it gave you clarity for your anxious concerns. You never upset him, you didn’t go too far, Tommy was just as twisted as you were and wanted to see how far you could take him. You knew however, that he was restraining himself, you knew there was a potential for him to break. You wanted him to claim you, You wanted to feel something raw and real, something free and wicked. You wanted him to pour kerosene on the fire inside of you and touch the flames as he watches it burn.

Next chapter-

A/N Continued: So, Thomas behaves in a way that has some real world controversy. He is forceful and threatening, Y/N is depicted as wanting to play cat and mouse with him and push him to break so they find out how dangerous he really is. The same interactions are nowadays being used as part of a harmful rhetoric spewed out of the mouths of misogynists which they claim excuses sexual assault towards women and femmes. I want you to be comfortable in knowing that I am not about that shit and that my only relation to it is via consensual and responsible kink. The activities in my fics are all JUST fantasy and nothing more. I know I shouldn't have to clarify that, but none of you know me as a person and it can suck when you read a fic and find out the author is a creep (it taints the story IMO), so I wanted to put you at ease. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Lip Service

So i dont 100% know how it starts. I just know that eddie uses the phrase "lip service" maybe he and the gang of teens are at nancys house, hanging in the basement while the kids are at school, robin and steve both had a day off, which never happens. They're talking about who knows what, eddie lounged out on the floor, his feet resting on the couch. Probably next to steve who's sitting on the couch like a normal person. Eddie keeps gently kicking his shoudler, pressing his toes behind steve when his feet get cold.

And steve keeps shoving him away, but not too far, and he always lets eddie keep his toes there for a minute before he shoves at them. And maybe nancy has said something about eddie getting sponsors for the band, and he snorts, says something about how he'd be terrible at promoting a sponsor, that he's no good at lip service. And Steve's goddamn traitorous mouth says,

"i doubt that" with a snort as he wraps his fingers around Eddie's ankle and pushes his foot away. Only he doesnt get to push the foot away, because he freezes, eddie coughs, chokes really, and he's up on his elbows, looking at steve, his eyes HUGE. and he almost winces with how hard Steve's fingers clench into the skin of his ankle. Eddie opens his mouth to say something, maybe ease some of the fucking tension thats now filling the basement, because everyone is staring at steve. But steve is up off the couch before he can manage one word.

He's up the stairs before eddie manages to get himself right side up, and on his feet again. And by the time eddie is outside, jogging down the stairs of the wheelers porch, Steve's BMW is already speeding away. And Eddie's chest ACHES. because he knows he could catch him. Eddie's not the safest driver. Or the slowest.

But his chest is also aching because of the look that had been on Steve's face. It wasn't fear, eddie had seen him afraid. It was down right horror. And Eddie's chest was aching because he didnt know if the horror was because he'd meant what he said, and had been thinking about eddie as much eddie had been thinking about him. Or if he'd been horrified that he'd implied he might have had any thoughts like that about eddie at all.

So eddie watches his car disappear, breathing heavily from just the run up the stairs. He's still trying to catch his breath when robin steps up next to him.

"What happened? What's wrong?" She asked, noting the frown on Eddie's face. He sucks in a deep breath, fights off a cough and just says,

"im alarmingly out of shape Robs" he rests his hands on his head as she chuckles lightly, her hand on his back as they go back inside. She doesn't say anything else to eddie. And he doesn't ask. But she keeps looking at him. And it just makes his brain work harder, faster, makes his palms sweat.

Its been three days and eddie hasn't seen Steve once. Not at the video store. Not at the wheelers. Not even at school to pick up the little nuggets. He'd seen his tail lights friday afternoon, dustin waving out the window at eddie as they drove away.

He bounces on his heels as he stands outside Steve's door. Not sure he should be here. Who was he kidding, steve was avoiding him, of course he shouldnt be here. But steve wouldn't answer his phone either, and robin was no help. Just told eddie to give him time. But Eddie's brain had been running wild for three fucking days and he was about to crawl out of his skin. So he bounces in place a few more times. Then knocks on the door. He presses the door bell too, for good measure. Knows Steve's hearing isnt the best. He hears foot steps and hastily puts his hand over the peep hole. He hears a muttered,

"what the hell?" Before the door swings open, revealing a frowning steve. The frown does a strange sort of summersault on Steve's face. Briefly jumping into a sort of soft smile before he realized it was eddie and then he's frowning again. And Eddie's stomach sinks. Not happy to see him then. Great. Good start.

"Hey." Is all eddie says. Steve wobbles from foot to foot, not opening the door any further.

"Hey?" He says. A question. Sounding for all the world like he has no idea what eddie is even doing at his house. Like they havent seen each other almost every day since eddie got out of the hospital. It throws eddie off. Tilts everything. Makes him stumble. He'd had a PLAN.

"I um... i thought we should talk. Maybe? About the other day?" He tries, says it gently.

"I'm gonna pass on that. Thanks though." Is all steve says, in a rush, and then he closes the door in Eddie's face.

"Hey!" Eddie squawks.

And steve smiles, despite himself, at the indignation in Eddie's voice, resting his back agaisnt the door, dropping his head lightly against the expensive wood.

"Steve! Seriously!?" Eddie bangs on the door, it shakes beneath Steve's shoulder blades but he doesn't move.

Eddie huffs, leans forward until his head is resting against the wood, he flattens his palm on the door.

"Listen. Steve. I'm gonna... im gonna say something. Something i would never say. Not to your face. Or your... door. Hell, not even in your general vicinity. I wouldn't even say it if someone tossed me in a rocket and launched me into space. Not that anyone could hear me up there anyway cuz space is a vacuum so it would be-

"Eddie."

"Right. Yeah. Sorry. Distracted." He lowers his voice, to a near whisper.

"What i was getting at is that... I've been- can you hear me?" He gets no response.

"Knock twice if you can here me. You don't have to talk. I just want you to hear me." Eddie waits. And waits. And then two soft knocks reach his ears.

"Okay cool. Good." He clears his throat, rolls his shoulders, and tries again.

"I just wanted you know that... i can't stop thinking about kissing you. And it has nothing to do with what you said 3 days ago. This was an issue I've been having since... doesn't matter. Its been awhile." He waves his hand next to his head, dismissive though steve cant see him.

"But then you said that. and you know how i am dude, my brain just goes and goes. And i know you've been avoiding me, and thats... fine. I guess. Unless it's... i mean unless you..." he frowns, shakes his head.

"I dont know. I just thought we could talk? In case maybe... you've been like... feeling things?" He grimaces. He really should have just brought the shit he'd written down, it'd be so much easier. He sighs, runs his hands over his face. Does a little spin and groan combo before facing the door again.

"Look i just cant stop thinking about what you said. And i wanted you to know that like.. it didn't bother me, or freak me out or anything. I just... i dont know man." He sighs again, drops his head heavily into the door before backing away a bit.

"Look man you're being awfully quiet, and clearly don't wanna talk to me. So im gonna go." He takes a step down the porch, still facing the door, his chest tight with hope that steve will answer it.

"I just needed you to know that i think about you sometimes." He laughs, shakes his head.

"All the time. Just, all the fucking time now. But i uh... I'll see you around... i guess?" He mutters the last words, his heart sinking as he makes it to the bottom of the steps with no movement from the door. He sighs, shoulders dropping as he scuffs his feet all the way back to his van. He yanks the door open, the metal creaking. And then

"Eddie!" He turns, Steve's standing on the porch,  his arms wrapped around his middle, eyes big and sad as he looks at eddie. Eddie stops, his hand still on the door of his van, standing wide open. He watches steve swallow. Swears he can hear it from all the way in the driveway.

"Dont go?" Its quiet, almost a whisper, and steve is all but fucking begging. Eddie stares for a moment and then slams his van door shut. He starts back toward the house. Watches steve turn and walk back inside before he gets to the porch. Steve steps aside, holds the door open for eddie and lets him pass. Eddie steps inside, watches steve close the door. Lock it. But he doesnt step away. His hand is still on the door handle. His head resting against the door as he breathes deeply. Eddie takes one small step toward him. Knows steve didnt see it, his eyes are closed.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, moving closer still. Steve scrunches his eyes closed harder. Shakes his head.

"I don't know what im doing." He says, eddie leans to the side, sees his lip caught between his teeth. He reaches out, his hand touching Steve's shoulder, he moves closer, nearly pressing himself to Steve's side, and smiles when steve sighs into the touch.

"That's okay." Eddie says, moving his hand across Steve's shoulders, soothing him. Steve shakes his head again and then moves, he turns, placing his back agaisnt the door, his hand moves to Eddie's hip, one finger dipping through Eddie's belt loop to tug him closer, eddie stumbles into steve and huffs a laugh.

"I mean it. I don't know what I'm doing with you. I've never... done this... with a guy before." He breathes.

"Girls i know. I know how to do that. But not this." He moves his free hand between himself and eddie, in the small space thats there. Eddie swallows, hard.

"I uh... i could be a girl. If you want." He winks, and it makes steve laugh, makes him tug on his jeans again, bump their hips together, but he shakes his head, smile fading, looking at eddie seriously.

"I don't want you to be girl. I just want you to be you." He says, and eddie thinks he might fucking cry. And Steve's eyes look shiny too. So eddie moves, his hands moving to hold onto Steve's arms.

"If it helps? I uh... I've never really... done anything... with guys either. Or- or girls. So just... nothing really. Over here on my end." He huffs a sort of sarcastic self depreciating laugh, and looks down, away from steve, his cheeks hot with his admission.

"I mean I've wanted too. Ya know? With guys. I mean i knew i was into guys. Not girls really so much. I mean they're beautiful, just... i never wanted them the way i did with guys. Never wanted them the way i- the way i want you." He whispers the end of it. Scared maybe he shouldn't have it said it that way, that maybe steve wasn't saying the same thing.

"Really?" Is all he gets from steve, making him look up.

"What?"

"You've never- done anything?" Steve asks, his free hand moving to Eddie's side, the fingers curled in Eddie's belt loop move, cup his hip gently, Steve's thumb moves slowly against Eddie's shirt. Eddie takes a shaking breath, shakes his head just enough that his bangs wobble against his forehead.

"Nope. Just a big ol virgin. I mean i kissed Cathey Bartlet once in third grade but it was kinda gross and i didn't really want too. And she didn't really ask me. She just sort of... shovered her mouth on mine. Sort of a bummer of a first and only kiss really." He knows he's saying too much, but his mouth wont stop, never does. But steve is smiling soflty at him so he thinks maybe its okay.

"So yeah. Maybe you've never done anything with a guy, but... at least you've done things. Lightyears ahead of me. On all accounts, probably. I mean... i read things but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count. Having an active inner fantasy life doesn't count either I'm guessing." Eddie smiles awkwardly, his fingers trembling where they're holding Steve's arms. Steve nods at him, his fingers still moving gently over Eddie's shirt.

"That's not a bad thing. You know that right?" Steve asks. One hand moving up Eddie’s arm. Eddie shrugs.

"No hey, i mean it. It's okay that you haven't done stuff. I- um..." steve flushes, a deep red, and oh... eddie likes that, he sways forward, closer to steve.

"You what?" Eddie pushes, his hands moving to Steve's biceps, fingers pressing a little harder. Steve shakes his head, eyes avoiding eddie now.

"Tell me." Eddie moves his hand, his fingertips moving to Steve's chin, lifting his head so he can see his eyes.

"Please?" Eddie asks. Begs. And he watches steve nearly melt. He licks his lips, eyes locking on Eddie's.

"I just- i like the idea that I'll be the only person who's touched you." He looks away quickly after the words leave his mouth. But he doesn't stop there.

"I like the idea of learning how to do this with you. But mostly its the first thing." He scrunches his nose and looks back to eddie.

Eddie is smiing, his cheeks flushed. And then he fucking honest to god giggles. And fucking falls against steve. Steve just wraps his arms around eddie, instinctively pulling him closer.

"Why are you laughing?" But steve's laughing now too, can't help it. Eddie's laugh has always been so fucking contagious. Eddie shakes his head, stops laughing, moves, just a little, moves his nose up Steve's throat, his hands on Steve's hips, pushes him back into the door a bit and he says

"Steve harrington. You have a fucking virgin kink. Or should i say, your kink is fucking virgins?" Eddie's breath on his neck makes him shiver, at least thats what he tells himself. Eddie pulls back, stays close, looks into Steve's eyes.

"Dont you?" He asks, his fingers giving steve a squeeze. Steve squirms and shoves his hands up the back of Eddie's shirt, his warm palms moving against eddie skin, pulling him close. Eddie fucking melts into steve, a little whine leaving his throat.

"Maybe i do. Sounds like you might be a little touched starved princess." Steve shoots back, sounding satisfied, and the nickname goes right to Eddie's nerve endings, his whole body shaking. He's pretty sure his knees are about to buckle, but he can fucking feel steve holding him up, and that just makes it worse. He clings to Steve's shoulders and says the only come back he can think of it in his fuzzy headed haze.

"Princess. So you do want me to be a girl." He huffs into Steve's shoulder. Steve laughs then, his fingers pressing into Eddie's back before letting him go a little, so he can look at him.

"No. I still want you to be you." And he says it so earnestly. Eddie almost melts again, looking into his eyes, steve lifts a hand out of his shirt and tucks some hair behind Eddie's ear. Eddie licks his lips and frowns, wants to not sound too much like an idiot.

"So um... you wouldn't mind then..." he hesitates. Steve's eyes widen, waiting. Eddie grimaces a bit.

"Teaching me... how to do stuff?" He sounds insecure now. But the way steve softens makes him, not hate it. Steve shakes his head, moves his hand to Eddie's cheek.

"No. I wouldn't mind." His thumb moves over Eddie cheek bone and he leans into the touch like a cat.

"Good. Cuz i really wanna kiss you but I'm scared i might be bad at it." Eddie bites his lip, Steve moves his thumb down, sweeps over Eddie's lip until he lets it fall from his teeths grip.

"You'll do fine. I have faith in you." Steve breathes. Eddie's heart flutters.

"What if I'm bad at it? What if I'm like Cathey Bartlet?" Eddie asks, his hands clutching at Steve's shirt now. Steve shakes his head.

"No way. Not possible." Steve smiles, his eyes locked on Eddie's lips now. Eddie's clenched fists are shaking.

"You don't know. I could be terrible. Like kissing a wet mop or someth-"

"Eddie." Steve says his name softly, silencening him gently. Eddie gulps. Eyes widening.

"Can i kiss you?" Steve asks, eddie feels his breath ghost over his lips and his eyes flutter. Eddie nods, pressing his lips together nervously before releasing them again.

"Thank you for asking." Eddie says, smiling at steve as steve smiles at him, both of them moving to close to gap between them.

"Dont get used to it." Steve whispers, his lips brushing Eddie's and then he's kissing him. Soflty at first, letting eddie get used to the feeling. Eddie can feel him smiling against his lips, especially when eddie makes little noises. Steve breaks away, brushes his nose agaisnt Eddie's. Eddie nearly panting as steve practically holds him upright.

"Does that mean you're not gonna ask when you kiss me?" Eddie breathes, his forehead resting against Steve. Steve laughs into Eddie's mouth, kissing him soflty again and says

"Not always. You're mine now Munson. I can kiss you anytime i want." Eddie shivers as steve spins them, pushes Eddie gently against the door. He pulls back, his hands pressed to the door next to Eddie's head.

"That okay with you?" He asks, like he hadn't just fucking shaken eddie to his goddamn core. Eddie's hands scramble over Steve's shoulders, clutching and clawing at him, dragging him closer as he breathes

"Yes. Yeah. Totally good with it. Never stop kissing me." Eddie says, his eyes locked on Steve's mouth. Steve laughs, lets eddie pull him closer, desperately so, and kisses him again. And again. And again.

[pinksunsetsandstarrynights]

Adamsapple Harvest: Urban Legends

So this fill has nothing to do with the Human AU I wrote about in my other fills. I got the idea for this one while watching a Papa Meat video about asylums and one of the images in the video looked quite different from the corner of my eye...

Just a heads-up the Adamsapple is very light in this one.

"Remember to watch where you step," Adam warned his younger cousin, "and keep your grip on your flashlight, Butterfingers!"

"I'm not going to drop it," Peter answered back, annoyed. "I drop one of Emily's figurines one time…"

"I mean it, Peter. These abandoned places can be dangerous if you're not careful." Adam was really starting to wish that Emily hadn't insisted that he let Peter tag along for some "much needed family bonding."

Yeah, right.

Adam knew she just wanted her brother to be out the house so she could have a date over. It was good timing too since Aunt Sera would still be out of town for another day. Now normally Adam wouldn't mind helping Emily out so she could score some pussy, but he wasn’t checking out an old house this time.

It was a three story mental asylum miles outside of town with a long history of malpractice and patient death until it finally closed its doors sixty years ago thanks to a basement fire. The kids trying to scare their friends liked to say that the fire was the result of dark rituals that used the patients as sacrifices. Obviously that was bullshit. The story that the adults liked to gossip about was that it was arson, done to collect insurance on the property.

In Adam’s opinion, it was caused by probably the most overlooked and boring theory: an electrical fire that got out of hand. The asylum had become more run down in its later years, so faulty wiring wouldn't be unexpected.

But whatever reasoning for the asylum's closure, it wasn't the kind of place anyone would take their skittish teenage cousin. And honestly, it wasn't the kind of place a braver person should visit alone either. Adam had been planning to explore the place with his best friend, Lute, but she bailed on him at the very last minute. Just before Emily suggested that he take Peter instead.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why Lute changed her mind.

He wasn't mad about that, but damn it, Peter was not a good substitute. Adam wouldn't be surprised if their trip ended up being cut ridiculously short because Peter freaked out over some rats scurrying around. And if it did, then Lute was going to owe him big time.

---

It was so far so good, surprisingly.

There wasn't much inside, most of the furniture was gone. Strangely, there was no graffiti indoors, even though the outside was tagged to hell. Adam guessed that the stories were enough to keep taggers from actually going inside. Peter was still looking anxious, but when he was asked if he wanted to wait in the car, he insisted on staying.

Whatever. As long as Peter didn't start screaming his ear off, Adam will ignore the teenager's obvious trembling.

Less natural light was shining through the windows and the flashlights were now being kept on. Sunset was coming, so they would have to leave soon. But there was one more place Adam wanted to get a look at first...

"The basement-?!" Peter cried out before stifling himself, his eyes darting around the administration office. "But Adam," he continued in a frightened whisper, "that's where they killed those poor people for blood sacrifices!"

For fuck’s sake…

"Dude, there were no evil rituals in the basement. There's no such thing as black magic," Adam firmly told him. "The only creepy shit that happened here was just normal shitty people doing fucked up treatments and that ended years ago."

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Look, how about we both go down the staircase together and if you see anything before we get off the stairs, we'll turn right around and go home. Sound fair?"

"…I'm not going into the basement even if I don't see anything, " Peter stated quietly.

"Then you don't have to. Just stay on the stairs and shine some extra light for me."

Peter agreed and surprisingly took the lead down the staircase. "So I can keep an eye out better."

They took it slow, much to Adam's chagrin. At this rate, it was going to be pitch black outside by the time they leave. After fucking forever, Peter reached the bottom of the staircase, the beam of his flashlight moved frantically around the basement before suddenly freezing on one spot.

"Uh, Peter...?" Adam asked. "Do you see something?"

Peter didn't answer, instead turning around and shoving Adam out of his way back up the stairs.

Adam ended up tripping on the final steps and landed hard onto the floor. Pain lit up his senses as the taste of iron filled his mouth. The sound of Peter's retreating steps was echoing in his ears.

Did that fucker seriously just shove him and leave him here?! Adam huffed, yeah he so wasn't contributing to Peter's college fund after this bullshit. Fucking asshole.

He got himself back onto his feet, ignoring the stinging on his palms and knees. It was dark as hell here. Thankfully there was a beam of light cutting through the dark. Adam was lucky his flashlight didn’t shut off from the fall. He spat out the blood in his mouth and took a few steps toward the light. He grabbed his flashlight and aimed the beam around the basement. Now what did Peter see that made him bolt out like that. It better not have been a damn piece of burnt furniture...

That wasn't burnt furniture.

Adam felt sick. His heart began to race and his hands became clammy.

Furniture wasn't made up of charred bones.

Oh god, he could see a face...

There was fresh, red blood right on its lips, the stretched skin of which were frozen in mid-wail. Fuck his life, he desecrated a corpse...

Alright, Adam, just stay calm. You just need to get out of here and then you can call 911 to report the body. Okay? That's the game plan. Now turn around and leave.

What was that?

D-did those fingers just twitch...?

No, he's just stressed. It's not everyday you find a body. He should probably stop looking at-

Adam dropped his flashlight and took off running back toward the stairs.

Corpses don't lick blood off their lips!

He practically flew up the steps and didn't stop running once he reached the top. He needed to get the fuck out of here. There was still just enough sunlight that Adam could see where he was going.

Right.

Left.

Left.

He can see the front lobby!

His lungs were burning, but that didn't matter. He only needed ten more feet to reach freedom!

Adam's fingers skimmed the door knob of the exit.

So close!

Strong limbs wrapped themselves around him and yanked him back.

"Nooo!" Adam yelled, hope snatched away at the last possible second.

He stumbled onto his ass and before he could even try to get up, a hand - so pale that it practically glowed under the growing shadows - covered his mouth.

Adam moaned in despair. He was going to die in this shithole.

"Shhh… I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you," the voice, a harsh rasp from disuse and thirst, whispered. "I only want to make you scream."

Adam didn't believe it. He whimpered, and struggled some more. He knew no one would be coming to save him.

"Shhh... You'll love it," The creature murmured in his ear before licking the tears off Adam’s cheek, making him shudder. "My savior."

Adam's screams echoed throughout the asylum that night, left unheard by his cousin as he ran down the dirt road back toward civilization.