#it just has such a nice non-sickening sweet scent to it!

[imtalkin]

I fall more and more in love with Sweet Tooth every day

#it just has such a nice non-sickening sweet scent to it! #Sabrina really nailed it #sabrina carpenter #celebrity perfume #sweet tooth #perfume

[libertyybellls]

PITY PARTY !

‟ and he loved her like he loved no one,

the way she’d laugh and hold a smoking gun. „

pairing;finnick x victor!f!reader

summary;finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.

contains; ANGST, self destructive-finnick&reader, insinuations of infidelity, acts of non-con, arguments, TW descriptive forced prostitution.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

it was your victory party, supposed to to be the happiest night since your games.

it was only the most stressful, the most draining. you hair was pulled up almost too tight you gained a headache, dress to tight you could suffocate. champagne flute after champagne flute, finnick had slid away from you- told you he’d be back nearly an hour ago.

you were struggling to stand, your arms were crossed over your indecent frame- chilly, without finnicks presence. without your finnick.

you went up to a familiar face, he was near your age- you think he’s friends with finnick? but how do you know what’s real in the capitol?

“have you seen where finnick went?” your head tilts to the side slightly, and by the way his breathy laugh reached your nostrils and the alcoholic scent burned your senses, you can tell he’s probably drunker than you.

the man has to steady himself from laughing so hard, you were almost concerned at his inebriated he was. “oh you sweet naive victor, he has quite the track record. where would a boy like yours possibly be at a party like this- i mean he’s not much of a boy after all he’s done.”

you’d zoned out halfway into his sentence, was finnick known for getting too tipsy? was there something you didn’t know? was the man you were speaking too so drunk he had lost his mind?

you began to slowly slip away from the man, slipping past people, looking for that soft, gentle, sweet face.

the air was getting too thick, your breath began to quicken, everything was moving in slow. your mind was begging for someone to find help for you, to find finnick.

you find your stylist, he was nice- you think. he’d done you a great fault with the comfortability of your get-up, but otherwise you’d trusted him.

“y/n!” he smiles, ecstatic to see you but a hint of concern in his features and he takes your glass of booze, placing it down on the table. his concern seemed too strong to be just for your alcohol consumption, like there was something else. something you didn’t know, or couldn’t know. “how are you?”

what the fuck?

“where’s finnick.” you’re feet hurt, your heads throbbing, your body is buzzing and you are so sick of not being apart of whatever’s going on.

now your stylist looks pitifully towards you, “oh honey, room five.”

your shoulders slump. was he okay? had he gotten a panick attack? you rush towards to intimate rooms, you weren’t sure if you could count to the number five right now but your mind assumed he’d be in the only closed room.

your worry is sickening, the chill in this mansion is sickening, the confusion of it all is purely- sickening. your hand twists the knob open, ready to see his tears in the dark- but you don’t see his eyes at all.

“yes! i love that finnick. i love you!” she’s under him, her skirt is pushed up- his eyes are screwed shut- his beautiful eyes are screwed shut.

who is this woman? her hair is curly, long, blonde, she seems tall but you can’t see much of her, she seems older. this seems wrong- almost. why is she saying she loves him? who is this woman, lying?

you don’t know how long it takes you to perceive it all, but she looks up and notices you- shrieking in exposé.

you just barely see his head shoot up, before you’ve closed the door. your back flies to the wall opposite of the door, you hear shuffling. you hear her asking him where he’s going.

you can’t breath.

it’s like you’ve taken a shot to the heart, and you’re bleeding out. your body can’t move, you want to run. you don’t want to know, you’re sure of it.

you’re not even sure you want to hear him speak, not for a long time. not until your world stops spinning.

you’ve just started to move, you’ve just started to escape. when the door flies open, your name is being called- no shouted.

but finnicks legs move faster than yours, longer, with flat shoes and hefty strides he’s grabbed your wrist in seconds and he’s spinning you around to face him.

you want to scream, no more, please. but your words are stolen from you, his face looks like he’s just walked in on the same thing you did.

he looks like he wants to speak, to say something. he looks into the corner of the hallway, at the light fixtures, the cameras, and the words are lost on his tongue.

it has felt like ever since finnick had won his games, there was a part of his soul you would never understand, and you thought that you would- and if you told him this, he would probably tell you it’s too early for you to know just yet.

his eyes fall back onto yours, and his eyes are frantic- switching back and forth between each eye. again, you’re missing something, there’s something you’re not picking up, and as much as you want to scream and run away from him- to cry- you stay.

“what the fuck is happening.” you’re trying to sober-up now, your hand finds your hair. and you’re taking steps away from him, your eyes are wide.

he hasn’t moved a muscle, finnick thinks the odds have never been worse for him. does he break you or does he seal your fate with a scarlet letter?

“what the fuck is happening!” you repeat, turning around to face him now, he looks back to the camera, and back to you. and you aren’t in the right state for this. “finnick!” you place your hands on either side of his face, you’re trying to tiptoe around this.

he takes an inhale, trying to find solace in your sweet smell- but all that fills his senses is the alcohol hot and heavy on your tongue. “your drunk, y/n.”

your hands fall from his face, this is cruel, the present is too cruel. and at that moment he’s chosen your fate, you break.

a cry leaves your mouth, your hand going over it, shaking. he feels sick now, his pupils are blown and he’s shaking, he swears his own heart has stopped.

you’re sobbing, and it’s because of him. finnick odair was a selfish monster. finnick odair was a liar, a tyrant. but he was your boy, the same man who spun you around when you wore long skirts just to hear the giggle leave your lips. the same man who didn’t sleep for days when you were reaped- moreso until you came out of that arena. the same man who gave everything he had just so you’d gain sponsors.

and you thought you could be that same girl for him, the same girl who held him when he cried the night before you left for the arena, unable to hold his composure for you any longer.

and now, you’re tears couldn’t stop, and his couldn’t either. you were too stunned to move, and he couldn’t stop muttering words that made no sense.

“lets just go home, please.” he pleads, he would get on his hands and knees. he’d die for you to stop feeling like this, he’d soak it all up just so you would stop.

“how many women?” you remember his own friends words, he has quite the track record- not much of a boy after all he’s done.

and his eyes screw shut once more, a look he often wears when he wants something to be over with, and quick. and you can recognize that from the scene that will forever be etched into your mind.

and he sees you, piece it together in your mind- he sees it all line up for you. he sees the red hot fury behind your lashes, he then sees it turn into an unwary look.

“who’s making you do this?”

he shakes his head, his hand running over his wet face. “stop, now.” there are ears everywhere, even when you’re the loneliest in panem, you are never the only person there.

and his heart races at the thought of how your concern for the good in him will push to your demise, how if you say the words you were never supposed to know, he may never see you again.

and when you go to speak, he slaps a hand over your mouth, he’s rough, he’s not himself. he turns you around- pushing you away from him as he rushes out the emergency exit.

you chase after him, and somehow he’s still faster than you. there’s fresh tears in his cheeks it the cold air, he thinks they’ll freeze. you’re screaming after him, he thinks it’s nothing more than a bad dream.

he wished he wasn’t there, like he was in the backseat as his body moved farther and farther away from you. a second hand perspective on himself and he didn’t know who he was.

and once more, finnick odair was a plague. a wrath awakening in every bridge he burned.

-

masterlist

inbox open! taking reqs!

#finnick odair #finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick #thg finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x oc #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick odair is papa

[prettybrownelf]

Hi! Hope you having a great day, do you still taking request? If so can you do a smut Tsu'tey x Male reader (different species or Na'vi)? (if you comfortable with the smut and different species/Na'vi).

Where the male start to ignoring Tsu'tey (they are in relationship) and he find it weird because both of them always stick with one other but today got strange, Tsu'tey think the male reader having a bad day or just want to be alone.

After a few day, Tsu'tey got annoying because the reader keep ignoring him wherever he try to approach the Male but fail and don't even start with the sweet scent when the Male walks past Tsu'tey. The warrior didn't know what was wrong with his lover so he try to approach him but in different ways.

Tsu'tey follow the reader into the forest not letting the other male know. When both of them got far away, Tsu'tey watched M/n sat down the nearest tree and try to calm himself from the heat. Watching it for a while, Tsu'tey know what going on and wanted to help the reader to calming his heat down but he still mad at the M/n for not letting him know and they start "doing" it.

Until someone smell the sweet scent then saw both of them doing it, Tsu'tey isn't happy having someone saw his lover in a situation like this so he glare at them and telling them to go away.

(Having an aftercare would be nice, sorry for kinda cringe plot, there aren't many Tsu'tey x male reader and sorry for the bad grammar, English isn't my first language)

The Warriors Mate

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Tsu'tey x Male! Navi! Reader

Summary- Tsu'tey cant seem to figure out why his mate has been distant lately

Word Count- 779

Content Warnings- Slight A/B/O Dynamics, Praise, Smut, Slight Overstim, Aftercare

Tsu’tey was worried. 

He knew he shouldn't be, you were probably just having a bad day, but something inside him was telling him this was something more. This distant, cold, attitude of yours was clawing at his heart. The two of you have been inseparable for years, so this sudden change in your attitude of worrying to say the least. But a bad day is just a bad day right? You'll be back to normal by tomorrow. 

Except you aren't. For the next few days, you barely look at him. Always making up an excuse to get away from him, moving away when he tries to touch you. Tsu’tey’s worry turns into annoyance as the days go on. As far as he knows, nothing has happened to change your mood so drastically, so what would your reason be for brushing him off all the time? 

Tsu’tey tries everything to get close to you. Although the sickening sweet scent from you tries to distract him, he continues. Taking every chance to sit next to you, trying to play with your hair, all for you to push him away. 

After a few weeks, Tsu’tey gets fed up. He's angry, but not at you. He's angry at whatever has made you feel this way. He misses the loud, bubbly mate he's used to having. 

The second that night falls, his eyes don't leave you, watching as you sneak your way into the forests surrounding the tribe. Tsu’tey quietly follows you, hoping to be able to finally have a conversation with you. 

Instead, he's met with you hunched over in pain. Worry fills his chest as he looks for any sort of wound, only to find nothing. Sweat drips from your brow as you attempt to calm yourself down. The confusion in Tsu'tey’s mind finally leaves as he realizes what's wrong with you. 

Your head snaps to him as he makes his way towards you, although you're in too much pain to run away this time. 

“My love, are you ok?” Tsu’tey asks, crouching in front of you. All you can do is groan in pain as your mate tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “My love, why didn't you just tell me you were in heat? I could have helped you sooner.” You lean into his touch the second his hand is on you. “I'm sorry, I just didn't want to bother you.” Tsu’tey can't help but laugh as he helps you lay down, crawling over you. He places a small kiss on your forehead. “Dont worry love, it's my job to take care of you.” 

Tsu’tey’s kisses slowly travel down to your neck as you let yourself relax against the grass underneath you. The feeling of Tsu’teys hands on you feels like ice against your burning hot skin as he takes off your clothes. “Just relax, ok? I'll take care of you.” All you can do is nod as he runs his thumb against your cheek. Your body immediately bucks into his as he slowly begins to run his hand up and down your cock. You didn't even realize how hard you already were until he began. 

Moans and whines are all you can produce as Tsu’tey stops as fast as he started, positioning himself in line with you. The second he pushes into you, you're gripping onto him. Tsu’tey growls into your ear as he finally bottoms out, slowly beginning his thrusts as he whispers small praises in your ear. Your mind is completely blank as you focus on the overwhelming feeling of pleasure coursing through your body. His name falls off your tongue like a song as you try to keep up with him. 

The grin on Tsu’tey’s face sends you over the edge, making you see stars as he continues to get harsher and harsher. Overstimulation fills your body as you hear your mate moan above you. “Just a little while longer love.” A twig breaking in the distance makes Tsu’tey’s head snap up. His thrusts don't stop as he makes eye contact with another Na’vi. 

The Na’vi backs away quickly as he sees Tsu’tey’s glaring eyes. Tsu’tey continues his thrusts, listening to your panting moans underneath him as he finally finishes. 

He can feel how hard you are breathing under him as he looks down at you. Your fucked out expression makes him smile as he takes you in his arms, letting you curl up to him as he lays his back against a tree. His hand combs through your hair as you catch your breath. The small vibrating coming from your breath makes his heart swell as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.

#avatar x male reader #male reader #x male reader #tsu'tey x male reader #bottom reader #bottom male reader

[chinatea]

Ian/Diminie (feat. minor Tattoo/Baby G)

ABO. Where Diminie asks for nothing and Ian keeps coming back for more.

- Ian and Baby G are twins. A dominant alpha and omega respectively.

- Omegas don’t have self-lubricating assholes, they have slits (or heat slits).

Names:

Baby G - Jiyeon.

Diminie - Jisoo.

Tattoo - Junghwan.

Ian is Ian. (:

Ian knows damn well why he did it - he was pissed off at Jiyeon for taking up with Junghwan. While the omega could have picked any knot he wanted, it just had to be that mongrel, huh.

So yes, Ian took it personally. Even if it had nothing to do with him - Ian could always tell when Jiyeon was in love, which was never, not for real anyhow, until that knothead moved into their town and his twin has been acting like a freaking omega ever since, with his air-light giggles and sickening amounts of skinship between the two.

Ian can’t even kick Junghwan’s ass for treating Jiyeon anything less than the precious prince he is, because Junghwan ferociously does just that. The problem is, Ian just doesn’t like him, on an almost visceral level, and would find any opportunity to express his distaste in abundant detail so much so Jiyeon had to drag him aside and tell him in no uncertain terms to...shut the fuck up.

(“I love him, you idiot.”)

That was a few days ago and Ian has been feeling petty ever since. Enough to snub every single one of Jiyeon's omega posse that his twin likes to toss at him like confetti because he finds their thirst funny. Ian entertained him out of convenience - he has to fuck someone, right, and they're not that bad aside from the part where they open their mouth to have a conversation with him about their future life as mates - which immediately wills Ian's boner into non-existence. He's a fuck boy, not a settler, okay. So tonight, out of spite, he decides to chase his own game or maybe none at all.

There is no shame in spending the night alone - unless it's the Midnight Fair night.

It occurs three times per month with a single purpose in mind - for unmated alphas and omegas to hook up, no strings attached. For omegas, the attendance is somewhat mandatory too, because no alpha is going to miss out on the chance to get their knot wet. If the omega is interested, that is.

They’re not, like, animals, after all. Only partly so.

Jiyeon, opposite of him, is whispering things into Junghwan’s ear who has his arm around the omega like they are fucking mated or something. Although it seems to be where things are going for them, at breakneck speed. Last week, Junghwan almost maimed a guy for catcalling Jiyeon on the street and now they’re being disgustingly cute and domestic every time Ian happens to glower in their direction.

(Jiyeon can’t really love him, can he?)

“Yannie.” Jiyeon throws him one of his wicked smiles that get everyone else wrapped around his pretty pinkie. Junghwan’s eyes glaze over and Ian finds it disgusting. “I think Seunghee wants your attention.”

“Who’s that again?” Ian grunts into his beer. To his credit, he really has no idea who Jiyeon is talking about, not that he's going to explain himself.

Jiyeon narrows his eyes, but before he can start something, Ian looks away, sweeping over the crowd - their advantageous position on the grassy hill allows him the best view of the town square littered with decorated stalls and festive couples. A few desperate eyes vying for his attention he ignores until his gaze lands at the fountain where a sizable group of omegas are playing with the flower garlands and whatnot - most of those omegas come from the Min clan and for some reason, they’re not exactly swimming in the alpha attention. Come to think of it, Ian has no idea why, but were he to contemplate a partner for the night, a Min omega wouldn’t even cross his mind. Until now, that is.

“Hey,” he calls over one of the alphas nearby, his hoobae. “See that omega? The one with a flower band on his head. Jisoo, I think?”

The guy looks where he’s pointing before doing a double take.

“Huh?”

“Ask him if he wants to come here.”

Ian gives him a pointed stare, daring him to say something stupid again, and the guy stalks off. Ian sighs, eyes flicking back to Jiyeon, but the omega has already moved on by now, giggling into Junghwan’s mouth - as if he could care less whom Ian ruts tonight.  

Ian doesn’t even know why he chose Min Jisoo, but at least he knows his name while the rest are just nameless faces, and maybe that’s that. There was one time when Ian had to help move stuff into the campus greenhouse and Jisoo was in charge of making sure he doesn’t trample over the saplings too much.

Ian remembers him being eerily quiet and keeping out of his way, for the most part. Ian also remembers Jisoo watching him when he thought Ian was too busy to notice, his attraction palpable in the air, but that’s normal to Ian, so he didn’t give it much thought, but now he’s almost certain that Jisoo won’t be able to reject him.

And he’s correct. The next time Ian happens to look up, Min Jisoo is right there, sans the flower band, so Ian is almost tempted to ask what happened. At least, the flower band gave some point of interest for the eye to rest on - there is something unassuming about the omega, in general. A lot unassuming, but maybe Ian is being too judgmental: not every omega can make an alpha’s breath catch in their throat the way Jiyeon does. And not every omega has to.

Jisoo is still pretty enough in his own quiet way.

Ian holds out his hand - feeling many eyes on him - and Jisoo takes it, cautious but with certain dignity, as he nestles in Ian’s lap. He has a nice scent, fresh and clean, no gaudy enhancers, obviously - he has nothing to prove, he already knows who he is. That could be attractive, too. At least, to Ian it is.

“Can I scent you, pup?” Ian purrs against his neck, smirking when he hears Jiyeon kiss his teeth so everyone in close vicinity knows what he thinks about Ian's little stunt.

Jisoo’s cheeks go pink and his scent blooms as Ian nuzzles in. For a moment, that’s all he knows - the delicate honeysuckle fragrance.

Later that night, Ian ruts into him in the park, tucked away in safe distance from the rowdy square. He’s holding his weight with both arms because Jisoo looks too delicate to be shoved against a tree or a wall, yet he barely weighs anything in Ian’s arms.

The sounds he makes are quiet and breathy. His thighs are milky, just the right amount of thick, and Ian enjoys seeing the angry marks his hands leave on skin when he grabs them with just a touch more fever, thinking that maybe, if he pushed just a bit more, he could break him forever. The possibility is certainly there.

Ian kisses him as Jisoo cums, trembling in his arms but barely uttering a word. Ian could feel his pleasure as his own - the shuttered look of utter bliss in his eyes. No one has fucked him the way Ian did. No one will.

Ian almost regrets picking him tonight. He’s an asshole, he knows that. It’s better if Jisoo knows that too.

“You okay?” he says in the shrill quiet of the late hours and Jisoo’s eyes are wide and full of awe, gazing up at him in shy wonder. For some reason, Ian wants to kiss him again. And he does, Jisoo’s lips pliant under his own.

“I’ll walk you home.”

It’s late afternoon on campus and Ian’s been watching Jisoo repot hostas outside the greenhouse. Not intentionally. He just happens to be here, hanging out by the gazebo, out for a smoke, in just the right distance so as not to seem too obvious.

It’s been a week since that night and before they parted, Ian made it adamantly clear that he won’t ask Jisoo come over to sit on his lap ever again. Of course, he didn’t have to be that much of an insensitive asshole about that, but his history with the omegas who couldn't take a soft no for an answer had taught him better.

Jisoo just smiled and nodded then, his hands laced together in a cutesy gesture.

“I understand.”

The meaning behind that smile escaped Ian. And if there is one thing Ian hates, it’s to be left in the dark. Was he disappointed or not? Not that it mattered.

But, was he?

Ian was not going to approach him just for that reason alone, but he isn’t the only one eyeing Jisoo, he finds, and the other guy pretends to help Jisoo, juggling some pots around like a dumbass, eyes never straying too far from his ass.

Conversely, Jisoo doesn’t pay him much mind, tiny palms tamping down the soil around the plant. He’s not the type to make much fuss, Ian thinks.

He also thinks that while Jisoo does have a fine-looking ass, he has a real thing for his thighs. He should have marked them more. Maybe even put his mouth on them, sucking bruises into the skin, so Jisoo would think of him every time he grazed a tender spot. Ian wouldn’t stop there though - kissing up to his slit and drinking the omega up. He wagers he’d be the first alpha to eat him out. Somehow that just makes sense.

His phone flashes with a message from Jiyeon and Ian might have been waiting for his text all day, but now he finds he doesn’t care that much.

He’s up before he knows, cutting straight through the lawn, grass wet from sprinklers. He sends the guy scampering with one intense glare and when Jisoo turns to look at him, sensing his presence, he’s not sure what to say.

His cigarette burns his fingers and he almost drops it.

“Please, don’t litter here,” Jisoo says, but it’s devoid of petty malice. His hands are dirty with soil. A little smudge of dirt is marking his chin. The sweetness of his scent hangs in the air, mixing with the greens.

“Would you like to come to my place tonight?” Ian asks, already knowing the answer.

The eyes of a wolf who loves never lie.  

A week later finds Ian sprawled on his back, Jisoo balancing on top of him, straddling his face like he’d done it a million times before, which he hadn’t - as expected, the omega didn't have much experience prior to him, but Ian has to marvel now at how shameless Jisoo can be, open to anything, and he rarely marvels at anything, period.

Tongue plunged deep into his heat, Ian has Jisoo by his hips, controlling the pace and the movement of his pelvis. From his position, Ian can’t see his face, but judging from the sounds alone, the picture that unfolds above him is pretty wild as Jisoo pants softly, riding Ian’s mouth in short rapid bursts, exactly the way Ian allows it because today he feels like being kind.

It’s the first time Ian spends the night at Jisoo’s place which effortlessly accommodates the entire botany book in cute DIY pots. And with Jisoo, it couldn't be any other way. Ian can honestly say that he likes spending time with him - not just fuck but hang out. Jisoo cooks, very well too, and by now, he's probably more familiar with Ian's little kitchen than the alpha himself.

Ian never asked to cook for him, but Jisoo never asked for his permission either - one morning, after their first proper sleepover, he'd just rolled up his sleeves and cracked on with whisking eggs to make pancakes for breakfast.

Ian would have been a fool to tell him to stop, so he didn't.

Caught in the moment of passion, none of them hear the creak of the door being open.

“Goodness,” a yelp.

The door shuts back, some hurried steps thumping down the stairs before it's quiet once again.

In a somewhat belated response, Jisoo scrambles off Ian, pulling the sheets over himself frantically, covering Ian too, even if whomever intruded on them has left already, having gotten an eyeful of their debauchery.

“Who’s that?” the alpha slurs, flexing his jaw to get rid of tension. Half of his face is covered in slick. It’s obscene and he loves it. 

“My dad,” Jisoo murmurs sheepishly, tugging the sheets up further to bury half of his face in them. So adorably bashful.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Not really,” Jisoo sighs. “Though, I wish I would have warned him that I’d have someone over.”

“Well, in that case...” Ian croons, a hand slipping under the sheets to tickle up Jisoo’s naked thigh - he attempts to wiggle away with a squeak, but Ian is faster.

“Get back here, minx.”

Naturally, the word travels around fast.

The Jeon and that Min omega, Jisoo, or something. The Jeon’s omega, Jisoo. Ian’s omega, just that, yes, Ian’s omega.

How they’ve come to that conclusion Ian has no idea. Wolves fuck around all the time without anyone making a big fuss about that, unless you’re one of the Jeons, because the Jeons are all the rage and everyone wants a piece of that.

Well, fuck them.

Not that he can say the same to Jiyeon though, when he finds him one day, sprawled across Ian’s bed on his tummy, ankles swaying in the air as he leafs through a magazine.

“Yannie, Yannie, Yannie,” he tuts with a wicked curve of his mouth. He pats a spot on the duvet next to him. “Come, let’s cuddle, baby brother.”

That’s still debatable who is the baby among the two of them. Ian likes to think he came first. But so does Jiyeon, and being an omega, he wins by definition.

“I missed you, you stubborn loaf,” Jiyeon whines, tugging Ian onto the bed and immediately draping himself over Ian’s form. He can be quite the octopus when he wants to be and as much as Ian’s like to think he grew out of this silliness, there is little he can deny his omega twin.

“You have your alpha now. Go cuddle him,” Ian points out still, a massive pout still tucked somewhere in the lazy drawl.

The omega retaliates with a nip to his ear. It stings and Ian lets out a hiss, wincing at the prickle of pain. Jiyeon has sharp teeth and the gentlest touch as he soothes his earlobe with his fingertips.

Ian rumbles deep in his throat but settles back, relaxing under his touch.

“You know what I like most about him, though?” Jiyeon asks.

“No idea.”

“He listens.”

“You like your pups trained, who knew,” Ian huffs, eyes closed.

“Not like that, stupid,” Jiyeon teases. “He just...listens, to me, to my needs, to what I have to say, because he cares. And that’s rare in an alpha, because all you knotheads do is talk or act but rarely listen. Junghwanie is way ahead of you, you know.”

Ian opens his mouth to retort and then lets it fall shut.

He can listen.

“Mmh, good boy,” Jiyeon smiles, pleased, resting his chin on his palm as he gazes at Ian, eyes circling up in mischief. “We should get together some time, all four of us, you know?”

Ian kisses his teeth and that’s the habit they share, along with a million of others.

“It’s not like that between us,” he mutters.

“Don’t give me that spiel now, Yannie,” Jiyeon says. “It’s okay if you want him, you know. You think I care that he’s a Min? All I care about is whether he makes you happy, you stupid mutt.”

“We just fuck, Ji,” Ian protests weakly. “There is nothing to tell.”

“Well, you’ve been fucking him for a month now. Which is longer than any of your past ‘relationships’ added together. Either I meet him on your terms or I’m just gonna drop by the greenhouse whenever I damn well please.”

With the rug pulled from under his feet, Ian has no choice but to begrudgingly agree to think about it.

Jisoo is dancing in his bedroom. Although dancing is a bit of a stretch, more like - swaying his hips sensually, throwing an occasional simper over his shoulder to where Ian is seated cross-legged on the windowsill, smoking.

His gaze ravenously follows every little movement of the omega’s sinuous body. They fucked all night long and then, had a few extra rounds in the morning, and yet Ian finds he’s not nearly as satisfied as he should be after going at it for hours. Too bad Jisoo has to leave soon for school.

“I thought you had places to be,” Ian says, eyes never leaving Jisoo as he squashes the cigarette he lit, like, a second ago.

Lately, he’s been trying to cut down on smoking. It’s unhealthy, yes, but also - Jisoo doesn’t like it. Not that he’s admitted to anything, but Ian could tell. He wasn’t the first omega to find his habit revolting, but Ian wouldn’t even consider quitting just for anybody, but he can do it for Jisoo, if he asked.

Only Jisoo never asks for anything, not even to put a title on the thing they have between them. In many ways, Jisoo is easy, and for a while, that was exactly the reason why Ian kept coming back - uncomplicated fuckery and homey noms, the two undeniable magnets for alphas, but lately Ian has found that he wants more than that. The thing they have certainly means something to him now and he wants that to mean something to Jisoo, too.

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, alpha?” Jisoo lilts, all tease and no bite. Ian adores it when he’s playful like that - that he’s at ease with him, his impish persona coming through. Ian leans in to grab him by the waist, slowly drawing him in and sucking a kiss on his neck.

“You like to play dirty, kitten?”

“I’m just asking a question, that’s all,” Jisoo demurs, casting a mischievous look from under his lashes. His lips purse into a soft pout that Ian desperately wants to kiss away, but a better idea sneaks into his mind.

Maybe it’s time to speak up.

“Is that what you’re doing, huh?” Ian smiles, cupping Jisoo’s face in his palms. “I can’t wait to press you back into the sheets and make you delirious with want all over again. Is that what you want me to say?”

Jisoo gasps, fingers curling around Ian’s forearms.

“I hate it every time you have to leave. I hate it when you’re away. Out of my sight.”

Ian buries his face into Jisoo’s neck, tasting the unmarked skin over his scent gland.

“I think of you, pup. All the damn time.”

“Alpha,” Jisoo softly sighs.

“I wanna take you out on a date. With my brother and his mate. He wants to meet you,” Ian says. “And I want to show you off. Would you let me do that, darling?”

Jisoo slowly wraps his arms around his waist, face hidden against his chest. He doesn’t say a thing. Ian tucks his chin over the omega’s fluffy head, fingers soothing up and down the curve of his spine. In this quiet moment that follows, Ian finally realizes the sheer magnitude of power he holds over Jisoo. He could break him so easily with one careless word and it’s so unfair he wants to punch himself - he never had the right to take over his heart like that.

He wishes he was the one on the deeper end of love. He wishes he knew what it felt like.

“My mate,” he tests on his lips, struck by the way a shudder seizes up Jisoo’s body.

It takes a while for the omega to answer, his voice quiet and choked-up, on the verge of tears. Ian hopes they’re happy tears. He’ll make sure they’re happy tears. He owes Jisoo that much.

(“Who likes to play dirty now?”)

---

AN: It’s not that Ian doesn’t love him, but Jisoo certainly loves Ian deeper than the other way around. I’m thinking about maybe writing the double date from the pov of Baby G, and maybe I’ll do that. Maybe not. Don’t worry, though, they stayed together and mated eventually.

#personas au #ian/diminie #abo

[nyanevil]

/Okay, Tumblr ate the ask about Mccree mind-reading werewolf.

Self-indulgent bar-AU, idea a little changed, the key is in the end. Critique and comments appreciated!/

It all started with pomegranate.

Mccree felt it on his tongue, as two entered his bar - one of them being Genji Shimada, owner of a kitchen utensil shop right across the road.

Mccree smiled. Friendly faces of others business owners (especially werewolves too) were always welcome in "Peacekeeper".

The other face, however, remained a mystery.

"Hey, Jesse!" Genji beamed, leaning for a hug across the counter and Mccree indulged him, inhaling banana-sweet wave of friendly affection and tinge of pomegranate - a worry of someone else.

Sombra politely turned away to other customer, providing him an angle of privacy, as much as possible in a crowded establishment.

"Hey. New faces in town?", Jesse raised his eyebrows and extented a hand, turning to a stranger.

"Jesse Mccree, nice to meet ya."

"That's--"

"Hanzo Shimada", said mysterious man, shaking his hand in response and allowing himself a modest smile. Confident and strong fingers - Mccree almost grinned. "My brother told me much about you, but seeing you in person is... another experience."

Across the pomegranate sour he felt a burst of red hot chili pepper, burning in his throat - he nearly coughed at the sudden taste, when looked into Hanzo's dark eyes.

Things were getting interesting.

"You told me you need a chef", dropped Genji innocently, interrupting improvised staring contest. Jesse shaked the stun off and nodded with quiet grunt. The drinks at "Peacekeeper" were top notch, but the clients prefered a little bite _with_ their liquors. The previous chef, Mako, went to the teleshow and surprisingly won a place in a much more respectable restaurant just a month ago - Jesse even had half a mind to call Ashe, the "Deadlock Confectionery" owner, and ask for a hand despite their previous conflicts. She would've helped, but not without her vinegar-bitter sarcasm and just a touch of marshmallow fondness. A little sickening mix.

"And you, I presume, have a candidate?"

Genji beamed again and did a jazz hands move towards Hanzo - the last one folded hands behind his back and a little shyly looked away.

"Five years ago I swore to never wield a kitchen blade again, but Genji has a way with words, when he wants to", explained he, while the youngest Shimada proudly straightened. "I actually send you my resume tonight."

Oh. Jesse didn't log in a corporative email in days.

As if remembering something, Hanzo rotated his shoulder.

"I also happened to have a Michelin Guide Star."

Half of the bar went completely quiet, including Sombra, Mei and even Hana, who was on a cleaning duty, poked her head into the hall.

Jesse never striked a deal so fast in his life.

And he never tasted so much pepper from one person.

***

Bar "Peacekeeper" was by all means a decent establishment: bright cocktails, nice music, attentive bartenders and surprisingly strict rules of "no brawls, no harassment, no shady business". That's why a good part of clients were not the usual bar people: barely-legal girls as much as women of near-climax age, and all sorts of members of LGBT+ community - no one was afraid for their security. Once you break the rules - you are banned from "Peacekeeper" forever.

And no decent human being would've wanted to be a person non-grata - to be in a High Noon list.

However, after a visit from brothers Shimada several months ago, things changed. Crowd became bigger, menu - prettier, and nice music was joined by a gorgeous scent of professional cooking, bringing saliva in hungry mounts and hefty numbers to the budget.

Pomegranate and spice were now Jesse's personal curse. Mooncycle was nearing new moon, so tastes were becoming stronger. When Hanzo was around (and it was pretty fair amount of time, Hanzo was a good listener and even better storyteller, and he smelled nice and had sharpest humor ever) Mccree could feel tight seeds bursting on his tongue, filling the heated void of his mouth. Wolf inside him wanted to taste it fully, to sink sharp teeth into burning flesh, to mark, to scent it onto himself, to reach the peak of sweetness.

Human was holding him down, but the wish to drink this affection up never fully vanished.

This night was not very crowded, so in the kitchen Hanzo was alone.

"So... five years?"

Hanzo turned away from the stove and looked at Mccree without fear, knowing his true nature - Genji has a way with words - quiet steps scaring him none.

"Yes, five years", Shimada turned to the counter, mistrust a mere glint in his eyes, and began to chop spinach. Mccree suddenly catched another note, almost non-existent. "It was... an incident between me and my brother. It was around one culinary award and... I turned his chef career down to shambles."

Jesse picked up that note: a dark chocolate, sweet just a little, refined treat for the dearest of people.

"After I reached a peak of my career, I saw my own loneliness", Hanzo a little abruptly shoved the spinach into a bowl and placed an onion on the desk. "As all of my accomplishments were turning to dust - I realised that without his support I was not the person I wanted to be."

The chocolate was melting, mixing with feathery light whipped egg whites - fondness and trembling worry in glinting eyes.

"I traveled all across the world, considering myself not ready to ask for forgiveness", whispered Hanzo under his breath, gaze dead on a desk, knife forgotten. "And he found me himself, offering it just like that. Just for a little help."

Jesse saw that defeat in slumped shoulders, heard that edging tremble in his voice and reacted immediately - pulled this mess of a feelings (mousse of a feelings) in a tight hug, allowing Hanzo Shimada, this proud warrior, to hide his face in a soft welcoming shoulder.

"I thought I lost him..."

"I know the feeling", whispered back Jesse, inhaling calming sweetness. Chocolate now was for him too - a precious gift for opportunity to talk, for opportunity to change his own fate.

After a few minutes Hanzo nodded and stepped out, hastily making himself presentable. Eyeliner was a little smudged, but the pomegranate was back, as well as the pepper. Notes of chocolate were surprisingly nice fitten into this wicked mix.

"Sorry--"

"It's nothin'."

"And thank you."

Jesse smiled and tipped an invisible hat. That was the nature of werewolves - all emotions on the palate and all the secrets after a single question.

Hanzo licked his lips. Jesse was suddenly and shamefully hot under the collar.

"You are always welcome."

***

At the new moon Jesse often took a day off. He almost never repressed his transformation - he did that a lot when he was younger. It was not healthy, to forbid his wolf a hunt in a nearby forest, to disallow a surge of restless energy to find a way out.

Today, however, was Valentine's Day.

The bar was full.

"We need more ice!"

"Coming!"

"Beer!"

"Blushing Bride for me and Bullet for my husband, please."

"White Russian!"

"Beer!"

"Did you bring me Old Fashioned?"

"El Diablo for me and Rusty Nail for my husband, punk."

"Beer!"

"Yo Jesse!"

Genji grinned from ear to ear, catching Jesse's attention. He passed the ice to Mei and turned to his guest.

"Business is booming, huh?" asked he, the little shit as he is. Jesse calmed his accelerated breath with a few gulps of fully stocked with tastes air.

"Yeah, much obliged", Mccree tipped his invisible hat again. The stetson was proudly hanged above the counter. "Did you really forgive your brother just because of me?"

Genji laughed and Jesse picked up these chocolate notes again - this time much sweeter, with a dash of bright matcha.

"Sorry, but you were just an excuse, really! I wanted to bring him back long ago! Well, it's not like he killed me or something!"

Jesse just shook his head, but smirked none the less. Brothers were brothers - they still not lost warm feelings towards each other.

"Anyway, I owe you one."

"Heh, that's simple", answered Genji cryptically, before flashing his eyes bright red. "Break his heart and I will chop you in half!"

Sometimes Jesse forgot, that Shimada is a werewolf too.

Wait.

"Is Hanzo--"

"Yeah! Sorry for not telling you earlier, I was hoping you will guess this yourself. Hey-y, can I have a Jack Sparrow while you are at it?"

***

"So... werewolves?"

Hanzo neatly folded his uniform on a kitchen counter and looked at the clock. Four at the morning. Nobody's in the building.

"I thought I was obvious enough", shrugged he, straightening himself. Jesse inhaled all the pepper, just to keep his wolf at bay. Restless energy surged through his muscles, intoxicating and wicked. "I am Shimada too, after all."

"So", Mccree waved his hand near his face. "The, the pomegranate and spice..."

"The chocolate too", nodded Hanzo, stepping closer and with absolute calm unsealing the buttons on Mccree's shirt. Jesse after a second of hesitation allowed that, placing both hands on a counter, trapping Hanzo between his body and a cold granite.

"This manipulation..."

"I didn't want it to be like that", whispered Hanzo, fingers restlessly petting and cupping Mccree gorgeous chest, soothing the beast under his skin. "But we both wanted it. I was, you... This--"

"Promise me one thing", interrupted Jesse, nose touching another. Shimada blinked from sudden gesture. "This is not one night stand, is it?"

A slap across the face was not the answer Jesse anticipated.

"Do I look like a common furry, lusting over every werewolf it sees?" hissed Hanzo in disgust. "Would I wait a few months just to jump on you? Would I talk my soul out if I did not trust you enough? I've seen enough of you, Jesse, to fall way past simple lust. And you?"

The next thing Jesse knew was taste of Hanzo's lips, warm and responsive; their bodies were tightly flushed together, hands wandering.

They were making a mess - tearing clothes away, roaring at each other, biting skin to the stars under eyelids, sharply inhaling, when their fingers closed around each other, tugging, tightening oh so sweetly; they kissed in a cloud of their own breath, swallowing each others noises, grunts and moans.

They ended up on a kitchen counter, panting hotly, basking in an afterglow of orgasm supernova - Jesse above, kissing pale bitten shoulder, Hanzo below, close-eyed, enjoying cool granite against his spine. The absense of response made him worry just before he picked the tastes again and calmed down.

Sour of green apples, coated in a tender sweet crust, with just a tinge of spicy cinnamon - taste that Hanzo would gladly drink and bask in.

After so many years of searching.

A water of love.

/Key: sweet - love, fondness, all things good enough; sour - worry for loved ones, for dear things in life, for true intentions; bitter - betrayal, sarcasm, grief; spice - deep desire, lust./

#overwatch #writing prompt #fanfiction #mchanzo #ask #send prompts

[jeonggukingdom]

mots démoniquaes, 1 | dudgeon

▽ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

▽ Genre:  [mythological!AU, demon!AU] | Angst, Eventual Smut, Death

▽ Summary:  You can sense from miles away the sin that dances on his tongue, the words that he so loves to shape into sinister thoughts and morph into sickening outcomes aimed at tainting and wrecking all things mundane and innocent.  Kim Taehyung - a voice of honey and features of a cherub - is nothing but a monster. He has lived millenniums, yet, he has never found such a fascinating creature as you are and polluting your very being has slowly become his entire life motive.

▽ Word Count: 1.620K

▽ prompt word: dudgeon

▽ AN: This is based on a list of thirty words prompt I posted ages ago and that you can find: here.  (Look that most inspired this series: here) The Amanojaku is a small demon that finds its roots in the Japanese folklore. Everything besides his name and his power - aka the ability to instigate people into wickedness with his words - is entirely the fruit of my creative process and has nothing to do with the original folklore myth.

▽ ▽  WARNINGS: this story will contain NON-CONSENSUAL elements due to the nature of the demon including: kissing, sexual innuendos and seductive acts (not sexual intercourse). If you’re triggered by any of the above, please do not read.

« | Next »

A deep shiver runs down your spine and fear clutches your heart, the muscle spiking up its beating against your ribcage as your legs suddenly pick up speed. The hot breath that escapes your mouth forms clouds of steam against the arctic air but it is not the cold that has you trembling like a small leaf on a tree, no, it is the mixed signals of fear generated out of seemingly nothing but thin air and the desire and thrill for him to come and show himself to you.

Cold and fear are not a nice mix in the middle of an isolated alley on the cusp of midnight and it renders your thought-process absolutely useless in the time you’d need it the most.

“Good evening, sweets,” a voice of honeyed butter calls undoubtedly at you, forcing your steps to halt and your mind to go into overdrive in mere second for there is no doubt whom the incorporeal voice belongs to.

With utter dread and a sinking heart you turn your face towards the darkest recess of the alley and sure enough: there he stands in all his angelic demeanor whilst sporting the most devilish of smile - and soul, supposing he even has one.

“What do you want?” Words of pure venom escape your mouth and you almost gag on them as the resentment he clearly deemed forgotten by now - or he wouldn’t have shown his godawful face to you tonight - coils in your stomach, shapes itself into bile and rises to your throat, burning it from within.

“Now, now,” he chuckles and you swear to God that alone is enough for your desire to choke him with your bare hands to resurface.

“Still upset about Monday, I take it?” His steps are slow, calculated, and his eyes bore into you, studying your every move as a hunter in front of his prey or rather, a wild animal he needs to be careful of.

Your hands clench into fists, knuckles turning white, as the memories of that heinous night fill your head into a sickening re-run you can only wish time will erase completely from your memory, one day.

“I hope you rot in hell,” you say between gritted teeth, your fight-or-flight response telling you to run into the opposite direction as quickly as you possibly can. Oh, if only that could actually help you.

“Been there, done that.”

His voice is calm as he struts down the remaining of the few inches that separate your bodies; his walk slow and smooth for he has all the time in the world to corrupt every single living soul that even dares to look him in the eyes. You can sense from miles away the sin that dances on his tongue, the words that he so loves to shape into sinister thoughts and morph into sickening outcomes aimed at tainting and wrecking all things mundane and innocent. One of which, happens to be you.

“Hell is overrated,” he hums as his eyes fix upon yours, one of his warm hands caressing your cheek in what could almost look and feel like a sign of affection but that is, ultimately, just another one of his tricks to taunt you.  

You flinch away from his touch, the disgust so well painted on your features he just can’t ignore it as he normally would. Surprisingly, his hand falls back to rest against his leg, a sheepish smile twisting his lips into something innocent that does not belong there in the slightest.

“What do you want from me?” Teeth gritted and arms encircling your body, you take a step back acting out to perfection the role of the scared little lamb trying to make the wolf believe they’re a bear at heart and can bite at any given moment.

“I’ve missed you.”

The matter-of-fact tone of his voice makes your heart miss a beat because, oh, if only he meant any of those words. If only Kim Taehyung wasn’t a demon, no, even if he was, but had a small percentage of humanity left in that cavity he calls his heart, you’d forgive him for everything. Hell, you’d probably sacrifice your entire being for him. But Kim Taehyung is nothing but a monster.

Bile piles up in your stomach and soon the rancid taste of vomit fills your mouth, making you gag at his skillful performance of mundanity.

The Amanojaku smiles again, this time fully exposing the wickedness that fills is very bones and he tilts his head to the side as if taking you in anew.

“I always forget you’re not as easy to trick as everybody else.”

He hums to himself, pensive, and you dread what his next words will be for, no matter how strong your willpower his, you will fall victim to his twisted games.

“I’m bored,” he hums again and this time you can sense all the sincerity behind the statement and it makes a shiver run down your spine. God only knows what a bored demon can come up with - that’s the dreadful thought that comes with his simple words.

“What do you want me to do about it?” You almost bite down your tongue as the question leaves your mouth - a rookie mistake considering how long you’ve been dealing with the monstrous creature - and he welcomes your candid query with a sardonic smile, his pearly whites almost shining in the darkness of the night.

“Entertain me, of course.”

His warm hand grabs your chin, tilting it towards him so you have no choice but to stare into the black pool of his eyes.

“Please,” you whimper out into a desperate plea that makes your lip quiver and your eyes water. Yes, you are scared. Down to your very core. Because you fear one day, he’ll corrupt your soul forever and taint it black with the shame of murder.

“Now, now,” he smiles, one of those reassuring smiles that make your stomach churn and your heart drop.

“What would you say about a kiss?” He licks his lips and his eyes soften into a tender expression that once used to drive you absolutely insane. There was a time when you loved him. Yes, there was such a time in which you believed everything he had to say. That was before. Before he stopped deceiving you; before he told you the truth. Before he started using you for his own enjoyment.

“You repulse me.” Saliva coiling in your mouth you ponder the idea of spitting right into his eyes and run for your dear life, at least this once, at least for one night.

“Ah! Don’t you dare, __” His eyes darken and you gulp down, following his orders questioning how in the world he’s able to read your mind so easily.

“I want you to kiss me like you mean it.”

His next words are full of that dulcet and deep done that makes your head feel light and lulls your free will to sleep. There is just no escape.

With a fast beating heart and a mind screaming at your mind to not fucking move, to jerk away and punch him in the face even at the cost of breaking each one of your fingers, you get closer to his face.

You inhale deeply the scent of sandalwood that characterizes him, eyes closing and cheeks welcoming the coral tint of cherry blossoms, and in a matter of seconds, your lips touch the softness of his mouth.

You’re surprised for, even after all these months of pure torture and betrayal, his lips feel as heavenly as they used to.

Your mouths move in sync and you can feel yourself getting lost in the affectionate moment. His arms encircle your waist, trapping you in an embrace you cannot escape - not that you are willing to.

His lips part and his tongue brush against your mouth, asking for a permission he could easily glide over. Your mouth parts nevertheless and soon, the taste of coffee and vodka fills your palate bringing back memories of “Black Russian” cocktails shared in small nightclubs amongst groups of friends you can’t even remember the name of by now.

Your head starts spinning as the lack of oxygen becomes unbearable and it is only his strong arms that keep you into place as he sighs upon your face.

He hums, opening his eyes to take in the features he flushed up so easily and a look of pure elation spreads across his features.

“I really needed that,” he whispers to himself and smiles tenderly as he lets you go undoubtedly oblivious to the pounding heart in your chest.

A fog of black smoke engulfs him and just like that, before you can utter a single word, he is gone, swallowed into the nightlight as quickly as he came.

He leaves you there in the dark alley, dumbfounded and repulsed by not only him but also the willingness with which you gladly conceded yourself to him.

Hate and dudgeon spread anew inside your heart and as you stomp your feet back to your apartment only a new thought fills your mind. You have to kill the monster that haunts your every move.

Copyright © 2018 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. 

#noonanet #kwriterskollection #BangtanWriters-Net #Bangtan Bookclub #kimtaenet #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #bts smile #bts angst

[deanssweetheart23]

Since I’ve Been Loving You

Title: Since I’ve Been Loving You

Summary: When a hunt brings you and the Winchesters back together, feelings that have been kept under wraps for a while now need to be adressed. And you don’t want that. Right?

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester 

Word count: 3873 (Oopsie? Jk, not even sorry)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Abduction, mentions of torture, violence and blood. Allusions to sexual harrassment (minor and non-detailed). Alcohol consumption, medical attention. Language. That’s about it, I think.

Author’s Notes: This is my (very, very late) sumbission for @ravengirl94 1.5K challenge. Twin, congratulations for that milestone and every milestone after that because you only deserve the best (even if you almost killed us all with Firefighter!Dean). Also. I’m so sorry this took me forever. I hope I made it worth the wait.

Special thank you to @becominglionhearted because I wanted this to be a complete surprise for twin, so she was kind (and awesome) enough to read parts of it over for me.

Now, my prompt for this was “I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to try to rescue me.” “Yeah, well, I have a thing for obvious traps. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” (yes, I love it, too) and it’s included in bold in the text below.

Without further ado. Enjoy <3

There were no lights in the small room in which the demons kept you captive.

Instead, there was a rickety looking table, a broken lamp and a large window with rotten shutters, wavy and yellowed. The room was cold, its wallpapers peeled off by the ever-present mildew, and even though it wasn’t the first time you had spent almost two days tied to the only chair there, you were still not used to its grotesqueness.

Blinking owlishly, you tried to ignore the way your head pounded by focusing on the bruises that littered your skin, arbitrary patterns of color where your capturer had left his mark.

Admittedly, Ebony Eyes was taking his sweet, sweet time with you –and you had your own theory as to why that was the case, but the fight you’d put when he captured you along with the punching and the carving that had taken place during your interrogation were enough to make you squeal in pain.

“I have to admit,” Doyle hissed, wagging his head in disappointment, “I was expecting your little boy toy to be here by now. It’s been two days, for Crowley’s sake.”

A snort.

Black eyes snapping to meet yours.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” you spat, voice strapped with sarcasm at his raised brow. “Dean knows it’s a set up. He’s not coming.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, pretty girl.” The demon tutted, crouching down in front of you. “He sounded pretty pissed on the phone. Told me he’d –what was it,” he chuckled a little under his breath as he seemingly tried to recall Dean’s words, a sickening, hollow laugh that made you nauseous.

“Oh, right. Rip me to shreds, if I even touched a single hair on your head.” He smirked, gripping your chin. “Quite dramatic, isn’t he? But then again,” he let his hand travel down your neckline and just above the valley of your breasts, “maybe he’s just upset he never got the chance to have his way with you. Rumor has it he really wanted that.”

And you wanted to ignore him, wanted to smile that smug smile of yours that you knew would drive him up the damn wall, but his words hurt, sank into your skin like the sharpest of darts and tore you apart.

“Fuck off.”

He laughed.

“You got quite a mouth on you, Y/N.” He said, face so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your face, a scent of sulfur and cigarette smoke and death that made you want to crawl out of your own skin.

“I’m worried Dean didn’t appreciate it enough.”

“Like I said,” you spat onto his cheek, “fuck. off.”

Anger and hatred flickered across Doyle’s features for just a second, but then he blinked, and all emotion was gone, face a white canvas waiting to be daubed in crimson and black.

“Right. I guess we should get to work then.” He announced and walked towards the table to reach for a terrifyingly sharpened knife. “It’s a pity though. I really thought he’d come.”

“Well,” you smirked in faux confidence, “sucks for you.”

An appreciative hum.

“Oh, I don’t know about that." He ran the blade across your collarbone, a metal whisper of a touch. “Seems to me like he’s just,” he dug the blade into your flesh leisurely, “still mad at you for leaving.”

Blood painted the edge of the knife.

Doyle cackled, sick satisfaction staining his face.

“You’re one sick bastard, you know that?”

“Now, now, pretty girl,” he hissed, placing a hand on your inner thigh, “flattery will get you nowhere.”

He slid the knife deeper as he spoke, and you waited, waited for the blood to paint your ragged shirt red, and for the stinging tears to burn the back your eyes, and for that scream you knew was coming to make its way out of your mouth but then-

“Get the hell away from her.”

It came out in a threatening shout, raw and dangerous and just a tad scraped, and you shook your head and let out a sigh of relief because you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

It was all gruffness, a voice deeper than whiskey and warmer than hot chocolate, its timber coated with worried edges and a softness that was always there on the nights he carried you to bed after you’d fallen asleep on the couch.

It was his.

“Winchester,” Doyle smirked, straightening out his shoulders, “so nice of you to finally join us. For a moment there, I thought we’d have to start this party all by ourselves.”

Dean didn’t reply.

Instead, he just looked at you, looked into your eyes while fury and sadness and guilt danced into his own.

Doyle came to stand behind you.

“You know, when I first planned this, I thought luring in Dean Winchester’s sweetheart would be some sort of challenge but all it took,” his lips snarled into a wicked smile, “all it took was a text. Can you believe that?” He asked in fascination as the knife pressed against your neck.

“All I had to do was send her a text, signed by you, saying you wanted to meet and she came running.”

His fingers tangled in your hair and he titled your head back, his face next to your ear.

“Kind of needy, don’t you think, love?”

“I said,” Dean growled as he levelled his gun at the demon, “get the hell away from her, you son of a bitch.”

“Oh, for the love of,” Doyle took a step back, his head twisting to the side, “do you really think you can hurt me with that, Dean boy?”

Dean pursed his lips in thought.

“I can’t.” A mischievous grin. “But he can.”

And even though you knew what he meant, he obviously caught Doyle off guard because he backtracked and gasped as the eldest Winchester shot him in the head while his brother stabbed him from behind.

There was that distinct sound of silver cutting through flesh and twisting against the bones harshly, followed by grunts and groans and splutters and then the demon’s body was dropping to the ground, heavy but lifeless.

“Is he…?”

Sam clenched his jaw.

“He had…” You swallowed thickly. “He had two more guys on the job. He wanted to make sure I’d… That you would-”

“They’re dead, Y/N/N.” Dean said, his voice thick as Sam worked to cut your ties. “They’re all dead.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s over.” He whispered.

You nodded, bottom lip wobbling.

You got onto your feet and, despite how tired you were, despite your boneless limbs and the wounds and the blood, you stood above Doyle’s dead body and spat.

And then, you started kicking.

You kicked him for the way he’d captured you, the way he’d dared to use Dean against you.

You kicked him for the way he’d killed that young woman because she’d been a witness of your abduction.

You kicked him for the way he treated you, for all the awful things he’d said.

You kicked him for every bruise, every cut, every time he made you feel weak.

For every scar, every mark he’d left on your body and soul you kicked him.

You kicked and you kicked and you kicked until your boots were covered in his blood and sobs were ripping through your body and Dean had to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to his chest to stop you.

“Ssssh, it’s okay, kid.” he soothed into your ear while you fought against him.

Your body wracked with defeat.

 He only held you tighter.

“S’ okay, I got you now.” he repeated, words whispered into your skin as he kissed your temple. 

“I got you.” 

The boys’ motel was only forty minutes away.

Normally, you’d be more than thrilled to spend the night with the brothers, but, after everything that had happened, after the way you’d left things with them, you weren’t sure that staying over at their room would be wise.

Still, they’d been insistent, and unapologetically worried about you, and when they mentioned how much they’d missed having you around and asked where you were staying, you just crawled into the Impala silently and prayed to God you wouldn’t regret this.

Now though, with Sam gone to bring back takeout food and buy some meds for you, and you and Dean alone in the room, you were absolutely certain you’d made a mistake.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around Dean or that you hadn’t missed him, because, God, you really had.

You’d missed him more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself.

But, you’d caused him so much grief already and had no right to do it all over again, not after he’d held you the way he had while you cried, after he’d let his fingers tangle in your hair and stayed there, in that room with you, until you were ready to wipe the tears away and leave Doyle and everything he’d done behind you.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Dean asked. “You okay in there?”

Caressing the crisp-white gauze that was spread across your collarbone, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself.

“Yeah, just,” you reached for the clothes he’d left for you, “need a few more minutes.”

Dean hummed and walked away, his footsteps muffled by the wooden door.

Finally, you entered the room a few minutes later, dressed in one of Dean’s oversized T-shirts and a pair of Sam’s sweatpants, only to find the eldest Winchester sitting on the edge of his bed, a glass of Jack Daniels in hand.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours almost immediately.

“Kid,” he said, rough and deep, “hi.”

You smiled, a ghost of a smile, and wiggled your fingers in acknowledgment.

“Hey.”

“Uh, Sam called. You still like the cheddar and onions burger, right?”

“As long as the onions are caramelized.”

“That’s just gross, Y/N.”

You chuckled at his reaction, but soon found yourself wincing in pain.

He noticed.

“Shit. Did I-”

“M’ okay.” You said, taking a seat next to him on the bed. “I promise.”

He remained silent, swirling the amber liquid into its glass.

“When Doyle called, I thought…” Long pause. “I hadn’t seen you in five months and then a demon called and said he had you and... I dunno…”

It was almost indiscernible, but his fingers tightened around the glass.

“All I could think about was that you could have… You could have died. You could have died thinking I hate you and I don’t know how I’d-”

“I never thought you hated me.” You cut him off, voice quieter than you had anticipated.

“I said things I shouldn’t have said, Y/N. Things I wish I could take back.”

“But you didn’t mean them.” You objected, lips curled up in what you hoped looked like a reassuring smile. “I knew that. I still do.”

“Kid, you shouldn’t,” he drew out a breath, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “don’t make this so easy on me. I was so-”

“Mad.” You said.

He looked away, lips pressed tightly together into a thin line. 

“I know. And I’m not saying that it was easy for me, but I get it. And what happened,” you sighed and reached for his hand, heart bleeding tears of relief when he took it in his and squeezed, his eyes never leaving yours, “that’s done. And forgiven. And-”

“Sweetheart-”

“—m’ just glad you’re here.”

His face softened.

“Yeah,” he whispered and kissed your knuckles sweetly, “yeah, me too.”

You smiled at him then, probably the first real smile in months and he just stared at you, gaze trailing up your face slowly until his eyes flitted to your lips and you had to pull away because, simply, you couldn’t go there.

Dean cleared his throat and averted his gaze, almost embarrassed.

“Right.” His hand slid away from yours. “We should. Uh. We should take a look at your wounds.”

You blinked.

“Yeah.” You gulped, loudly. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Uh, could you-”

“Take my shirt off?”

He nodded, a flush spreading across his neck.

“If you want Sammy to-”

“Don’t worry, Dean. S’ alright.” You said and let the cotton fabric slide over your shoulders while Dean leaned closer, inspecting the gauze-covered wound until-

“You’re lucky.” He said, breath blowing hot over your skin.

“No stitches?”

“Nope. Just got to swab and dress it.” He reached for the bottle of Jack. “Here. That might help.”

Mumbling a quiet thank you, you brought the bottle to your lips and took a long sip, coughing as the alcohol burnt down your throat.

You glanced at Dean, his lips tugged up in a cheeky smirk.

“Shut up.” You whined, rolling your eyes.

A chuckle.

Hand running over your collarbone.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were –ah, shit,” you winced when he cleaned one of your nastiest marks, completely missing how he gritted his teeth at the sound, the muscle at his jawline twisting, “you were about to.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a bit of silence and then-

“I never got to apologize.”You said, playing with your bracelet. “For getting you involved into all of this.”

“Involved?” Dean repeated, voice laced with disbelief. “That’s just –they kidnapped you to get to me.”

“And you put your life on the line to get me back.” You explained with a smile, all brightness and warmth.

“You do realize you actually sound surprised, right?” He smirked.

You shrugged, slipping your palm down his arms.

“I guess I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to try to rescue me.”

He smiled, the most brilliant smile you’d ever seen.

“Yeah, well, I have a thing for obvious traps. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

You laughed, letting your head drop to his shoulder.

“In any case,” you said, titling your head back to look at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded, half-grin playing across his lips.

“Anytime, kid.” He kissed your forehead, warm lips lingering on your skin longer than necessary. “You know that.”

He drew back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tell you what. Breakfast’s on you tomorrow and we can call this even. Apparently, there’s a diner around here that has the best waffles in the state.”

Right.

“Dean, I can’t…” Deep breath, “I won’t be here in the morning.”

The smile died on Dean’s lips.

His expression hardened.

“You’re leaving again.” He said.

It was more of a statement than a question, etched with incredulity and fear and disappointment.

“Dean-”

“Why are you leaving again, Y/N?”

Your stomach plummeted, mind already drifting back to that night of intertwined limbs and soft breaths, that night you’d spend at the bunker together. 

The night that ruined everything.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, stretching out in Dean’s arms, “where are you taking me, Dean Bean?”

“To bed.” he replied, rolling his eyes at the nickname.

You’d just returned back home from what was supposed to be a fun night out and, even though you never made it a habit to get drunk, a successful hunt, celebratory drinks and a friendly bet with a certain green-eyed hunter had kind of ruined that.

Which was why you were now cradled to Dean’s chest, body so close to his that you could feel his warmth seeping into your skin and your bones vibrated every time he spoke or chuckled or laughed.

“Bit straighforward, don’t you think?” A giggle “At least buy a girl dinner first. S’ not like m’ gonna say no.”

Despite his exhaustion, Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, okay. You’re such a lightweight, by the way.”

“M’ not.” You pouted, furrowing your brow. “I can drink you under the table any day. And m’,” you clutched at his shirt, “adorable,” a yawn, “and funny,” another yawn, “and sexy.”

“Never said you weren’t, kid.” He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made you feel more lightheaded than the whiskey did. “Never said you weren’t.”

You stayed silent for a second and then-

“Dean?”

“Yes?”

“I think you have the hots for me.”

That big grin that split across Dean’s face was uncontrollable.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Sounds like you do.” You dropped your voice to what you thought was a whisper. “But I like it. Cause you’re my Dean Bean.” You jutted your head forward and repeated yourself to punctuate your words. "You’re my precious Dean Bean and I like you.”

“Yeah, baby, okay.” He mumbled into your ear and you grinned, pleased and sly, and glanced up to kiss his jaw.

You arrived at the bedroom a few seconds later, and, being the perfect gentleman that he was, Dean tried to set you on the bed and leave but your pitiful whimper stopped him.

Wrapped your fingers around his wrist, you just tugged.

“No, D. Want you to stay.” You wailed, and, after chuckling a bit, he climbed into the covers next to you.

“Better?”

And you were only half awake, and drunk, and tired, but you stretched and nestled into his chest, draping a hand over his stomach.

“So much better.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head. “Get some sleep, kid.”

“Mmmm. Love you, D.” you muttered into his shirt, missing the way his body tensed underneath you. “Love you so much.”

And then, you drifted into serenity.

You swallowed, hard, shaking the memories away.

“We’ve already talked about this, Dean.” You said through gritting teeth and tried to meet his eye.

“Oh, you mean that time you said you wanted to hunt alone? Because that’s a load of bullshit.” He spat, brandishing a finger at you.

“Dean-”

“No. You almost died today.” he told you, pacing the room up and down.  “We just got you back after you went off the radar for months and you still want to run away from me as soon as possible.”

He was angry now, all the pent-up frustration and brokenness he’d been hiding for months poisoning him, making his stomach churn and his head spin.

“That’s not what I’m doing. You’re not –I’m a damn good hunter.” You growled. “I used to do just fine on my own and if you think-”

“Goddammit, Y/N, stop lying to me.” He shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “I’m not a fucking idiot.” He took a step towards you. “You left because of me. You ran.”

And you knew he was right, knew that you deserved to hear all these things, but now you were mad, too, because it was his fault you’d fallen so stupidly in love with him and because he hadn’t fought for you, he’d never fought for you and it hurt.

“I ran?” you asked, cheeks flaming red. “Coming from the guy that went on a hunt a day after I told him I was in love with him, that’s fucking rich.”

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare put that on me.” He snapped, and you could taste the venom in his voice. “I tried, Y/N. For so goddamn long, I called and texted and begged and you didn’t even bother picking up the damn phone to let me know you weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but it was almost as if all of his scars came to light, laid out for you to see, and, for a moment, your mind drifted back to that night you’d spend curled up against him, how his warmth and comfort felt like blades in your heart now, blades you didn’t even want to pull out and you wished you could take it all back.

But you couldn’t.

So, you let the words spill out fast.

“Because you lied.” You bit the inside of your cheeks. “You’ve always said that there was nothing we wouldn’t be able to figure out together. You told me you and Sam would be there. You said we’d be okay. And then,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, clamping your teeth together, “then, I woke up that morning and you were gone. And every time I got near you and tried to explain myself, you acted like, like you hated having me around. And I couldn’t… I just couldn’t go on like that, Dean.”

Dean’s face fell.

“You think,” he laughed, short but bitter, “Jesus, kid, you think I was avoiding you?”

“I –why would you-”

“I went out to get you breakfast.” He explained. “That morning, I wanted –I was gonna surprise you. But then I came back and…” He ran a hand over his face. “You acted like nothing had ever happened and I thought-”

“That I regretted it.” You whispered, legs suddenly shaky.

“I thought you didn’t want this. Me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I can’t blame you but-”

“I do.”

His eyes flicked upwards, confusion coating his features.

“You-”

“I want you.” The breath hitched in your throat. “I’ve always wanted you.” You bit on your bottom lip. “You’re it for me, Dean. I’ve always known that. But I... I really screwed this up. Like royally. And if you don’t want me to-”

“Don’t even say it. You tried talking to me. But I never listened.” He shook his head. “Cause ’m an idiot.”

You chuckled.

“We both are.”

He smiled then, soft and warm like sunshine.

“C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you until you were flush against him, foreheads pressed against each other. “Clean slate?”

You hoped you weren’t beaming as brightly as you thought you were.

“Clean slate.”

“Good. So. Listen. I’m,” he clasped a hand at the side of your face, “God, kid, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“Hmmm,” you nudged your nose against his, “me, too.”

He let out a soft chuckle.

“So, you’re staying?”

“I dunno, D.” Your fingers sank into his short hair as his mouth moved impossibly close to yours. “Is there even room for me at the bunker anymore?”

A smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t mind sharing a bedroom with me, that won’t be a problem.”

“What about Sam?”

“What about him?” 

“Won’t he mind?”

“Don’t care, sweetheart. All I know is that you and I,” he beamed, mouth impossibly close to yours. “we're going to be busy for a very, very long time.”

You laughed.

“We will?”

He nodded, eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you knew it, his lips were on your, soft and sweet and slow, working with ardent to make up for all the time lost, all the opportunities you’d wasted. And when you pulled him closer and gripped, he growled and kissed you harder and deeper until all you could feel, all you could think and hear and taste was Dean, and, God, you didn’t want the moment to end because he was yours now and you couldn’t let go again.

You were never letting go again.

 Tags: @ravengirl94@jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @trexrambling @escabell @thevioletthourr @jayankles @emilywritesaboutdean @atari-writes @kathaswings @polina-93 @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @percywinchester27 @dancingalone21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @atc74 @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @keepcalmandcarryondean @sgarrett49 @ruprecht0420 @tiny-friggin-human @myrabbitholetoneverland @mandilion76 @iwriteaboutdean @spngeronimo @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange-juice @captainemwinchester @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @pickupthatamulet @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @winchestersnco @winchesters-flannels @wellthatsrandomkek @akshi8278 @hannahindie @juanitadiann @ravenangel33 @holahellohialoha @winchestersnfriends @ultrafandomcat @castianityislife02 @sinistersaltqueen @easelweasel

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #ravengirl's 1.5k challenge #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #spn insert #reader x dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #you x dean #you x dean winchester #spn angst #spn fluff

[reddogf13]

Horrors below ch 4

Pennywise x Beverly

summery:  after Beverly's return, pennywise works to gain her trust as "Robert Grey" while also avoiding the cold rains of April. when unintentionally Beverly convinces him to question his very existence. what has lead him to become the monster so many children fear was below their beds? what will he do when he no longer wants to be that monster? can a monster truly become a human?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

previous chap: Horrors below ch:3

next chap: Horrors below ch:5

_____________________________________

~ch:4 The fear~

“someone burned my tent. I don't know who.” she sniffled through some tears.

The inner rage burning inside him had him knowing that he would hunt the arsonists down. Not in the current moment however as he first had to make sure Beverly was alright. “stay here, I'll go get a med kit.” getting up to leave the kitchen. Making sure he was out of sight before conjuring up some supplies. An ointment that would heal far faster than any existing one. Along with gentle bandages made from his own special threading.

Coming back to carefully look over her. Cleaning and treating her wounds before wrapping them up. During the whole time he could see how exhausted she was. Having trouble sitting up for the treatment. All that stress, fear, and running for help really got to her in the short amount of time. Her only home now gone along with all her supplies if the fire reached them.

“Bev, want to go upstairs and rest?” he asked.

“i-i shouldn't miss school.” She fought the idea.

“you shouldn't go to school like this. Take today off. Take some time to heal and collect your thoughts on what to do.”

she looked away from him for a moment, then back to give him a nod. Grey stood up to help her stand on her shaky legs. Helping her upstairs to his bedroom and tucked carefully under the covers. As soon as she was settled down she knocked right out for a deep sleep. With her safe and sound he went off to investigate her campsite. Growling and grinding his teeth together at the lingering scent of her burnt flesh trailing the whole way there. Usually he would love the scent, but here it sickened him.

The area burnt black with her tent no more aside from the twisted metal poles. Her bags were a pile of steaming ash the rain cooled. The fire managed to spread enough that it scorched the surrounding trees until the rain came. “someone must have waited for a dry enough opportunity.” thinking with a sniff of the air. Walking around he heard a crunching noise. Looking down he saw bits of broken bottle shards. Beverly didn't drink and the burnt bottle openings told him they were Molotov.

This wasn't them just lighting a match and tossing it. They were outright trying to kill her with the fiery bottles smashing into her tent. Searching for any other scents aside from burnt alcohol. Managing to catch hint of one little trail that managed to survive the falling rain.

Following the scent along various trees down to the river. Fearing the trail would be lost if they walked around the shore. Now flooded over by the new rain building the river by a few feet. Finding luck on his side that they stayed along the high ground, whoever they were. More scents intertwining with the one. There were a few of them running together. Reaching an old bridge when the scent trails went up and over it.

Upon reaching the top he heard voices laughing together. A group of college kids messing around under a tree covered dry spot. Drinking along as if it were a celebratory party they were having. It didn't take them long to notice Grey standing on the bridge.

“hey look! It's the witches dog!” one of them pointed to him with a shout.

He let out a snarl of bared sharp teeth. He was no one's dog. “how dare they! I act human for a day and they all suddenly forget who runs this town? I'll show them!” It was only a brief moment before those arsonists knew what happened.

Their friend pounced on by a large black beast with large jaws of rowed teeth. Shredding into him alive piece by piece to give a slow agonizing death. The others tried to help by throwing full beer bottles or hitting him with branches, but it did nothing. One by one their turns came to be devoured by the furious beast. It was the first time in a while he got a satisfying meal during the rainy month. Licking the blood clean from his claws to savor the sweet fear filled taste. Checking himself over for any noticeable remains before heading back home.

Picking up an order of chicken soup on the way since he never finished Beverly's breakfast he planned earlier. Returning home he was happy to see she was still sleeping. Leaving her be to let the burn ointment really set in to help the wounds heal up.

Maybe this would turn out to be in both their favor. Her tent was gone and that meant no where to stay, but here with him. When she woke he would have a talk with her on whether she wanted to move in. He hoped she would say yes, but if not he'd help her find an apartment. Someplace nice and safe for her that she no longer had to worry about being harmed on the streets.

He kept downstairs to leave Beverly the upstairs. Thinking of what his next move would be. What to say that could convince her to stay with him. Should he get another gift for her? With all her things destroyed she would need a whole new wardrobe. Thankfully her sowing equipment was all in the back room he gave to her. The projects she worked so hard on and all those expensive fabrics were spared. That fire could have unintentionally ended her whole school year if they weren't.

“how dare they.” he snarled in thought at those arsonists. The world is surely better off without them. He wasn't sure how long had passed since Beverly went to bed. The sky's darkening so much from the rain it felt like a permanent twilight. A creek sounding from the stairs grabbing his attention. Turning to look he saw Beverly coming down wrapped in a blanket. Still seeming so exhausted after her short nap.

“you should go back to bed.” he spoke with concern. Standing from the couch to bring her back to bed.

“can I sit with you?” her body giving off the scent of fear souring at his nose. She didn't want to be alone. She wanted to be by him. The thought caught him off guard. She was injured and wanted to be around him?

“sure darling.” taking her hand with an arm wrapping around to hug her close. Walking back to the couch to settle them both down. Carefully rubbing her arm to comfort her as she leaned into him, eyes closed in partial rest. When the fear fell away from her he started to enjoy her close contact. The warmth of her body passing between the blankets that helped trapped it for the both of them.

Nothing wanted to be close to him while injured. This was something new that felt really nice. She trusted him enough to stay against him when most vulnerable. He would make sure she was comfortable as much as he could.

The only sounds around coming from the rain hitting the windows. After letting her rest a while longer he decided it best to wake her now. They still had to sort where she wanted to stay or if she wanted to replace her clothes before school tomorrow. “Bev?” rubbing her arm to wake her.

“hmm?” she tiredly hummed against his chest.

“would you like to stay here? Or would you like an apartment? I know you said moving in would be too fast for you.” speaking softly to her. She sat up and looked at him. Eyes watering up that she needed a moment to wipe them clear.

“I'd like to stay, if that's okay.” she smiled.

He smiled back with a nod. “i went out and got you some food. … I thought we should go do a little clothes shipping as well, since ...” his voice going quiet.

She wiped some more tears. “yeah, I'd really like that.” nodding as she smiled. “I don't want to wear only these.” stretching out her clothes coated in dark ash between large burnt holes.

He smiled. “lets have you eat, then we can go before the clothing stores close for the day.” leading her to the kitchen. Holding her warm hand the entire way.

“you're amazing Grey.” smiling as he pulled out her seat for her.

“I know.” he chuckled in loving the compliment. Sitting next to her as she ate then happily taking her hand she offered first this time. Holding it on the table as she finished her meal. He loved doing that, not just for warmth anymore either. He loved touching her soft delicate skin. Knowing she was so close to him all the time. Simply because she wanted to and not due to trying to impress him out of being eaten.

With her plate finished he checked on her wounds before they headed out. Unwrapping them to see the aggressive dark burn marks turned a mostly reddish pink.

Surprising Bev by the extremely fast healing. “Wow, that burn cream does wonders!”

Grey chuckled as he nodded. Grabbing more of it to apply along with fresh bandages despite putting the last set on only a few hours ago.

Walking hand in hand down to the town center. Beverly being closer than usual as the light scent of fear floated off her. To comfort her he hugged her inside his jacket. Letting her get some separation from the outside world she assumed still had her attackers living in. walking into a mostly empty clothes shop he promoted her to get what she wanted, even the more expensive things she greatly shied away from. Keeping to a simple handful of clothes that she said would last her fine for a while.

Next was replacing her lost school supplies. Pencils, pens, notebooks, a backpack, and a few sketch books and color pencils for dress designing. Feeling set she was happily smiling again with her confidence regained about attending school the next day. Changing into a fresh non destroyed outfit in the changing rooms. Coming out to spread her arms out in showing off her fresh outfit.

“how's it look?” asking Grey.

He smiled while gazing over her happy expression. Paying more attention to her then the new outfit. “beautiful.” he answered. Striking a blush onto her face at noticing he may not have meant the outfit. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and taking up his hand to leave. Tossing her burnt clothes into a dumpster outside. Not immediately wanting to go home yet he paused them under a dry store awning. “want another movie pizza date?”

“yeah, that'd be nice.” joyfully leading them to the movie store. Picking up various movies then going down along the small candy aisle. Grey latched onto a couple small buckets of cotton candy when he spotted them. Used to seeing the fluffy treats available only at the fairs. Grabbing some rock candy for the both of them as Beverly grabbed her favorite chocolate bars with almonds mixed in.

heading home to enjoy their bag of goodies as Grey “cooked” a pizza like last time. Carefully having Beverly avoid the kitchen to see the oven strangely not on despite the warmth indoors building and the smell of pizza getting stronger. Preparing a fresh pizza meal sided by twisted cheesy garlic bread sticks. Sitting together as they watched the movies for the rest of the day.

Full on pizza and the small pile of movies all watched it was approaching bed time. Grey remained on the couch as Beverly got up to stretch. “today was really nice, despite this morning.”

“mm, yes. Sure you're ready for school tomorrow?” asking to be sure she was alright.

“I'll be fine now.” surprising him next by what she said. “coming to bed with me?”

“what? With you? In the same bed?”

“yeah, … i- it helps me sleep. Having you near.” speaking nervously that she was now being the rushing one.

“uh, yes. If that's what you want.” getting up to walk with her upstairs. Brushing teeth together and getting changed into more sleep wear. Able to do so after sneaking into the bedroom while she changed in the bathroom. Meeting up in the bed where she nested down beside him. Hugging up against him to rest her head on his shoulder. Filling his chest with a warm feeling that he had to suppress his purring down again.

Pretending to sleep by her. Breathing in her sweet flowery scent after healing up today. He never wanted the moment to end. Deep inside he felt at peace for the first time in his eternal life. Zoning out he didn't realize the morning came. Opening his eyes to Beverly getting out of bed. Rubbing her tired eyes before looking at him.

“morning.” she smiled. “can I take a shower first? Or do you want one first?”

“you can go first, I'll make us breakfast.” getting out of bed as she did.

“thanks, love you.” she smiled and grabbed stuff from down stairs to go shower. Her affectionate words making his heart- … lights flutter.

In the kitchen he got started on cooking breakfast for her. Trying a second chance at the egg sandwich. Doing far better this time to fold cheese into a golden egg topped by spinach and a tomato he roasted on a pan together. Plating it with some bacon now that she'd most likely have time to eat at the table instead of in a tent or on the way to school. Making a cup of coffee alongside it in wait for her to come down. Smiling when she did come down in fresh clothes. Seeing her Light up at the presented meal he made for her.

“wow, that looks good.”

“It's for you. I'll go shower while you can enjoy it.”

“oh, did you eat already?” she asked, noticing a lack of dirty plates he may have used for himself.

“yes, I am full.” telling the truth after that large meal yesterday. Heading up to go “shower” by standing in the bathroom with the water running nearby. Not touching the water as he had no need to in order to get clear. Taking a moment's energy to clean himself of any dust collecting on him. Changing into new clothes he did manually. The only thing he hated so far about being human was taking random moments like these that separated him from her. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror that had him pause. Carefully checking over himself for anything out of the ordinary. He was spending a lot of energy that could catch up to him in his disguise. “so far so good.” he smiled and headed down.

The skies thundered outside as the rain began to fall as he touched the bottom floor. Greeting Beverly, who was finishing off her coffee. “ready to go?” she asked.

He nodded with a grab of the umbrella from beside the door. Walking out hand in hand for Beverly to be dropped off first as he usually did. so that he could disappear afterwards to wherever he wanted to go while Beverly was busy. The rains left later in the day to start up again when he met with Beverly after classes. Listening to her talk about her day all the while sounding more cheerful about everything. Holding his hand under the umbrella he held for them. Agreeing on their way to stop by the small sandwich coffee shop deli.

“I have to start another dress and this time we get to model it ourselves in the class.” she talked as they waited in line. “i was thinking about doing something in yellow, but the lighting of all this rain may not let it shine as well as it should.”

He decided to offer up a suggestion. “why not blue? It'll go with your hair and match your eyes.” growing a blush across her face.

“i haven't done much blue yet. I was planning that for winter, but it would look nice against the Grey weather we've been having.”

The talking paused for her to order coffee and a bagel sandwich. While Grey got a small container of salami he could just eat in slices.

“Need to go shopping for fabric?” he asked.

“I do, there's a certain store we have to go to. They take the money from my scholarships so I don't have to worry about figuring out how to afford the new material.” leading while they ate along the way.

At the small fabrics shop she grabbed a pile of fabrics to various threading. Boring Grey as he wandered around with her as she talked about the various fabrics. Nodding along to the stuff he had no idea of what she was talking about. Mostly taking the wandering time to judge the awful threading available. Nothing would last on the wimpy string they dared called “high quality”. But he kept from commenting on it as Beverly seemed to really love it. Listening to her talk about what she may do with the design on the way home.

When they were home they sat together on the couch. Watching shows together around the topic of fashion. Giving her inspiration as she designed in a sketchbook.

“you know, I've been talking all day about designs. I haven't asked how your classes went.” guilt slipping nervously into her voice.

“oh, nothing really. The same, nothing exciting.” he stumbled a little in answering. He still had no idea what engineering did, or what “branch” he was in. whatever that meant. It made him wonder “does it have something to do with trees?”

from that day on their time together melded perfectly. He spent breakfast and dinner with her separated by “their” classes and school work. She worked on her dress while he suffered in boredom upstairs to “study”. Sometimes leaving for the “library.” to poorly hunt for a real meal he needed to survive. Catching plain tasting meals, but they did the job.

A week later Beverly had a nice flowing blue dress ready. Paired up with sections of white and purple fading edges. She was so proud to show it off and model to him when it was ready. However in her excitement for tomorrow she forgot to set their alarm earlier than usual. Wanting to walk to school in regular clothes and change into the dress there.

Waking to the alarm going off at the normal time had her in a panic. Waking Grey by rushing out of the bed.

“shit I forgot to set the alarm!” she bolted from the room right down stairs.

Leaving him to rise and changed his outfit before heading down. Watching her run around in a panic without being sure of how to help her stress. “darling, can I help with anything?”

“uh, yes, I need some of my dress to be held up so it doesn't drag through the muddy puddles.” she rushed to smooth out her dress and make sure everything was perfect.

“want anything to eat before we go?”

“no, I don't want any crumbs to land on it. Any coffee stains would give me an auto fail I am sure of it. Can't afford the risk.” speaking quickly as she gathered up her backpack and her pile of sketch notes to put into a small portfolio. Rushing out of the small work room to finally leave they both heard the worst noise.

The loud shredding of fabric.

When passing through the doorway a loose thread looped onto the long lever door knob. Popping the threading to shred a whole dress seam down along the short train flowing behind. Beverly let out a shocked gasp of horror to turn around and undo the threading still stuck on the handle. Looking over the dress damage heartbroken that her hard work was suddenly undone by a stupid door knob.

Cursing at the rip while tears built up in her eyes. “fuck.”

“can you fix it?”

“no, this will take 15 minutes to fix back to looking nice.” sighing her frustration. “I'll just pin It together so it can hold long enough for the class. Hopefully I'll at least get a C for this.” grabbing a bunch of pins from her desk to carefully hold the tear together. Making it look as nice as she could although it still was noticeably damaged. “guess this is all I can do. We better leave or we'll be late.” carefully folding up the torn train for Grey to carry off the wet path to school.

There was a dip of pain in his chest for Beverly. Looking down at the tear he held carefully in his hands. She said it would take far too long to fix, but maybe not for him. As long as he was sneaky about it along the way. Already in a good position behind her out of sight and her seeming far too lost in her stress to notice him doing anything. Stretching his hand to spread a threading between his fingertips. Carefully tacking the threading to weave it along. Made easy by Beverlys carefully pinning he plucked out along the way.

Finishing without her noticing by the time they reached her class. “thanks Grey, you can drop the train now that I am inside.” thanking him at her class door way.

“good luck, see you later.” he spoke a little quickly to get away. Not wanting her to suddenly question how he fixed it on their walk if she noticed.

He tried hunting again for the day. Catching a thief trying to break into a car. Returning with a container of hot tomato soup and grilled cheese wrapped in white paper. Meeting up with Beverly who was strangely waiting for him outside already. Staring at him with a puzzled look of questioning.

“hey, brought you soup and a sandwich.” handing her the brown diner bag filled with food to go.

Receiving silence from her before she asked. “did you fix my dress?”

“yes.”

“on the way to school? In six minutes?”

“yes.” he mumbled.

“how? I didn't know you could sow.” amazed by the work done in such a short time.

“i always have, but many don't know about it. It … comes naturally.” he answered.

“why didn't you tell me?”

“uh, I don't like to use it much.” he awkwardly answered.

“ Your parents do not support it?”

“no, uh, I can do it, but I don't like to.” truthful, but hiding the deeper details. He could string up webs to catch food, but that wasn't fun. He loved the thrill of the chase that provided good flavor to boot.

“ah. Can you show me how you fixed it?”

“uh, no. I don't like people watching. Sorry.” he lied in keeping cover.

“It's fine.” she smiled. “Thanks for fixing the dress. I got my A because of you.” Digging into the bagged meal. “do you want some?” she offered.

He shook his head. “no, I already ate.”

“what threading did you use? It looks like some sort of silk.”

“yes, that.” he simply agreed, but wasn't sure what it was.

“where'd you get it? How expensive is it?”

“not very. I have a lot of it.”

“can I have some? It's really nice.”

“sure. … i-uh, need to find it first.” he lied.

Making it home Bev went to change into regular clothes from her dress. While he went to “look” for his supply of silk. Heading down to a little basement area to spin around a few empty spools he snagged from her work desk. Making a rounded little woven bulk on each. Heading back up to hand them to her as she ate her soup at the kitchen counter.

“found them. You can take all of it. … I may have more … somewhere.” secretly offering a supply to be available.

“wow, these look really nice! Thank you so much Grey.” kissing him in thanks. He lovingly kissed her back and hugged her. “sure you don't want some soup?” she offered again.

“It's fine, I actually can't eat it.”

“oh, sorry. How about I make dinner later then?” wanting to say thanks in some way.

“sounds good.”

They relaxed together until Beverly went to start on dinner. Grey wanted to help but he was quickly shooed away. Confusing him on why she didn't want the help from him. Was he a horrible cook? Maybe he should only conjure up food instead of actual cooking.

“am I bad at cooking?” he asked.

“huh? No, I wanted to make you something. Since you always make me something.” coming over to kiss his cheek.

“but why? I just do it, I don't expect anything.” accepting the small kiss.

she let out an amused chuckle. “and that's why.” heading back to start plating the meal. A juicy meat roast sided by fries and a loaded baked potato stuffed with cheese sour cream and some green bits he was afraid to eat.

After carefully taking a bite he managed better than he thought. It wasn't like most green or veggie things that dripped juice or you had to chew through more than meat. What really helped was the bacon bits and cheese that covered everything. Tasting a bit like the piled on nachos at the fairs. The steak did not last nearly as long as the sides did. Swallowed right down whenever Beverly so much as blinked. He had to be careful that she wouldn't catch onto his severe lack of chewing.

Thankfully Beverly never did, being happy to see his food go so fast. Moving from the dining room to their favorite spots on the couch. Settled against each other to enjoy the small downtime not revolving around school work. Beverly slowly made her way to sit in his lap. Grey hugged her close to give her a quick kiss. That kiss turned into a bit more.

Laying her back into the couch to be over her as they kissed. Her hands wandering from his neck to down along his chest. The heat building up between them causing something lower to stir. Wanting to slip out for a real deep feel of her. Almost committing to it as he lowered her shirt collar to kiss at the bare skin of her chest. Pulling back at realizing he couldn't.

Causing Beverly concern as for why he stopped. “what's wrong?”

“i um- i-its too fast.” making up an excuse. “I am sorry, I do want to but- ...” his voice went quiet.

She quickly tried to reassure him with a hug. “no, it's fine. Don't worry about it.”

he really, really, truly wanted too. However there was the snag that it wasn't him committing. It was a false face, living a lie with Beverly that he wasn't what he really is. Could he truly be with her while hiding behind such a lie? Would it be fair to her? Then again, could he be honest? He could never tell her, she would hate him.

But that meant never going for any deeper intimacy. His parts weren't modeled to mimic a human set. Although he possibly could if he studied, which he absolutely did not want to do. He'd figure out some work around eventually. Buying himself some time for now and maybe he could secretly get an answer from Beverly. He'd heard one common thing cross human conversation about the subject.

“I am actually waiting for marriage.” he tossed out.

“really?” she asked, curiously surprised. “that's rare to hear nowadays. It's nice though to not have the pressure on.”

“yes. Gives us more time.” he nodded in agreement.

“that too, although it's been really nice with you. I wouldn't mind if we did, if you ever change your mind.” leaving the possibility open.

“love you.” he smiled.

“love you too.”

“up for bed? Or one more movie?”

“bed sounds nice. It's pretty late for a school night, but at least it's also Friday and the weekend will be upon us.”

“want to go out to eat again? We can eat at that fancy diner again.”

“i like it better when you cook. How about a picnic by the river. We'll get some nice alone time to hang out and relax the stress away by the water.” standing with a stretch, followed by Grey doing the same.

“i can do that.” smiling as he followed up stairs. Getting ready together and into pajamas before sleeping beside each other.

Grey taking this time to zone out on what his next course of becoming human would be. Should he actually get a job? College wasn't a permanent thing and he'd “graduate” eventually with Beverly. Then what? He could conjure up money for whatever, but that cost energy. Meaning he'd have to eat more and more to keep it up. That wouldn't balance well over time. He should really figure out what engineering is and how he could do it. It sounded very important and high paying from what little he's heard in students talking. Beverly seemed to have the same view, so that must be the case.

Then there was intimacy with Beverly all while lying. But would it be lying if he became human enough? He was Grey … in a way. If he finished some more steps then it wouldn't be anymore, he would be Grey. He'd have to slow on devouring humans. Let the past die and allow Derry to not be such a tragic health hazard for the townsfolk. In the end that would make it a better place for Beverly to live in.

his thoughts broken by the morning alarm. Beverly groaned as she turned to smack the alarm off. Sitting up on the bed edge as he sat up.

“I'll go make breakfast.” he answered before she could ask if he wanted the shower first.

She nodded. “thanks, I'll be down soon.” stretching on her way to get ready for the day.

Over their morning cup of coffee before school they talked about their picnic plans. They would walk home and make a small lunch to share. Some sandwiches with a thermos filled with hot coffee. A side container of meats, cheese, and crackers. All sided by a bowl of seafood salad, since Grey mentioned he couldn't eat something like a potato salad. Happily settling the spot they would pick to be down by the quarry away from town. Separating with a hug goodbye before their classes.

This time Grey actually attended some. Although it was right smack in the middle of the semester, he found it all to be easily follow-able. Reading a textbook also had him realizing what the different branches were. Settling onto civil engineering since Derry was going to be promoted to grow from here on. Being a cosmic creature who dealt with working on a much higher plane, this was like messing with building blocks after working on a space rocket.

After 5 minutes he found himself extremely bored in the subject that came so easy to him. Sticking with it only to make sure he knew the human vocabulary of everything. The basics he would need after subtly getting himself a job when graduation came. Learning the common date for engineering grads as well as what classes he should have taken for the degree he'll magically obtain. Leaving the classes early to meet up with Beverly. The sunny morning shifting to the cloudy Grey as it started to rain.

“hey, how were classes?” Beverly greeted. Taking his hand as she joined him under the umbrella he held.

“boring.” he answered, more happy than usual as it was the first time it wasn't necessary to lie.

“i was really hoping it would stay sunny today. Getting really tired of all this rain that should have ended when April did.” peering up at the sky drizzling down. “We might have to change our plans.”

“could eat under the bridge by the quarry. The random car now and again won't be too bad.” he suggested.

“that could work. The hot coffee will keep us warm too.”

discussing how else they could turn this rain into a positive. Walking around the slow collecting puddles on their way home. Beverly slowed nervously at the sight of a recognizable car turning from a corner. Stopping when it screeched to a halt next to them. Stepping out of it was that annoying male Grey dealt with before.

“Beverly, I am really sorry for all the things I said. I came to apologize and ask if you'd be willing to give me a chance.” he spoke softly. Holding out some white flowers for her. “I got you these to say sorry.”

the air filling with extreme awkwardness. Beverly takes a moment to find her words in declining the offer. “thank you for apologizing, but I cant. I am fully dating Grey now.”

“I thought you two would have broken up by now. Why are you still with him?” he suddenly confronted them with.

she answered. “well, we aren't and I really like him.” Confused by David's boldness to stop them for this conversation. Grey could see his aggression oozing through the males tone. So much so that Beverly was sure to see it as well.

“why?! Are you with him for the money?! Are you sleeping with him?! You're always at his house!” his questions getting far too personal for comfort.

“no! What the hell is wrong with you?! Besides, that's none of your-” she started but he cut her off.

“you really are a whore! I thought spreading those rumors would have had you crawling back to have them proven wrong. Now I am just the idiot who was dumped by a slut!” what he said having Beverly go quiet.

Grey stepped in the way again. “get back in your little shit pile and fuck off.” he ordered. It caused the male to take a step back, but he was standing his ground for the most part.

“fuck no, my reputation is ruined because of her! She lets you fuck her for some cash while I had to fake being a good boyfriend for nothing! She owes me something!”

greys blood boiling high now. “you worthless little leech! Shut up and leave before I feed you your own dick!” holding back on fulfilling his threat only because Beverly was here. This male wanted a fight and he was going to get one now.

“I'd like to see you try limp dick! Lets go fight like men and whoever wins gets the whore!” stomping off the road down into the forested area nearby.

“Grey, lets go.” Beverly whispered with a tug of his arm.

“no, I wont tolerate this. Everything will be alright and I'll be right back. You stay here.” hugging her before following the dumb male into the woods where they were hidden from the road. Perfect as it also meant being hidden from Beverly's view of what was going down.

He smirked at the pathetic man before him. He had no idea that what he was threatening was not a man. He would end this male and make it all disappear. Claiming he won the man's challenge and the rival ran off like a coward. Leaving Beverly once again to peacefully be with him.

Unintimidated by the man he spoke in a board tone. “let's get this over with.” wanting to return to Beverly's side as soon as possible.

the male snapped at Greys smugness. “I wouldn't be so happy, fucker!” surprising him when he pointed a gun. Not giving Grey the chance to speak before the trigger was pulled. The loud sound airing over the light rainfall. The rival smiling darkly at the point blank headshot that had him expecting Grey to fall shortly. Only, he didn't, he rose up bearing a snarl of sharp jagged teeth. Blood inhumanly flowing upwards against gravity to disperse through the falling rain.

the inhuman being snarled. “how dare you!” Bringing up a hand high to slash down. Shredding the man's face open to pool blood. Falling into the puddles collecting at their feet. “what's wrong?” he mocked the terrified male. “thought I was some little shit you could knock off with a dirty shot?!” sharp jagged teeth stretching into a crooked smile. The smile dropping as the male brought up the gun to shoot again.

He let out an inhuman growl in finishing off the pest below him. Slashing the males throat open to bleed out under the building rainfall. Thunder roared across the sky while the males body lay limp in the forming mud.

“Grey?!” Beverly called fearfully for his condition. He looked back toward the direction of her shouting.

“it's alright, I am fine! Stay where you are, it's getting really muddy around here!” he cautioned. Taking the small time he had to cover up what happened. Hiding the males body down into the mud between the tree roots. The rain washing away the spilled blood to seep into the mud. He grit his teeth through the pulsing pain to rip out the bullet. Freed of the metal he healed his face instantly. Breathing out in relief at getting everything taken care of. He wished he could have had the male suffer longer, but oh well.

“Grey?!” she shouted once more at spotting him. He turned from the fallen males hidden grave ready to explain what happened. Ready to reassure her that he wasn't shot and he merely missed. After deeply beating him down the cowered ran away. Confident that this slip up would pass to become a forgotten event. Before he could say anything she gasped out a startled breath. Suddenly stepping away from him wide eyed in alarm over something.

His brows furrowed at her reaction. “what?” assuming maybe he forgot to remove some blood on his face. He looked down into the reflection of a puddle disturbed by rain drops. Clearing up enough to show his literally broken human face cracking off in pieces. Revealing the pure white skin underneath bolded by a red mark going up across the one glowing golden eye. He healed the bullet wound, but foolishly forgot to fix his facade in the rush.

His true face, the clown, revealed to Beverly.

He looked up again as she stepped further back to get away from him. He stared back, like she was, reading all these emotions crossing her face. The shock of learning his dark secret. the hurt of being lied to of who he was.

The fear … that's what hurt him most.

She would never love him now. His chance of being accepted as a human destroyed in one single blow to the face. He should have known it was only a matter of time. A monster can’t be a human … or be loved by one.

A sweep of wind forced the rain to come down sideways. Needing Beverly to close her eyes from the harsh gust. He couldn't bare to face her any longer with no possible words he could say to fix this. on the gust of wind he disappeared into the forest with a flash of lightning. Only the loud shifting of shrubbery alerting to his brief fleeing trail. Not once did he look back while running. To where, he did not know.

Forced to eventually stop on the rocky shore of the quarry lake miles away. Falling to his knees to break down into tears. Like his blood would his tears floated upwards to clash into the falling rain. He shouted down at the rocks in agony over the cruelness of it all. It was over, there was absolutely nothing he could say to save their relationship. Nor was there anything he could do to deserve forgiveness. Beating a fist down creating a dip as rocks scattered under his fist. Another scream of pain drowned out in the thunderous roar of the sky. The rain storming down in an aggressive wave above Derry. Soaking him right through his many clothing layers.

He never felt so cold.

#it (2017) #pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh

[modernart2012]

Toil and Trouble (Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble)

@sumigakure Halloween Event 2017

Prompt 3: Non Harry Potter Witches/Wizards

Word Count: 1274

On AO3

Sakura huffed as she looked over the list, “Shishou, are we sure this is an actual spell for seeing the future?”

 Tsunade stopped measuring tiger's entrails. “Well, it’s a little unorthodox, but there’s nothing to lose by trying.”

 Both Sakura and Shizune freeze. “Eh, Shishou ....” Because last time they had messed with an unknown spell they had all ended up as slugs. Very cute slugs, but still slugs, even if all the boy slugs had waved their eye stalks like whoa. Sakura shivers - that crash course in slug husbandry had been entirely unwanted and unnecessary.

 Shizune glared, then huffed under her breath, “This has to be punishment for throwing out all her sake.” Still she obligingly stoked the fire, then added more poison to the entrails. Right, they should have everything they need, or at least acceptable substitutes.

 As one, the trio threw on their hooded cloaks. Not actually necessary but it was cool and added a nice atmosphere. Half of being a witch was atmosphere.

 Tsunade squinted at her crib sheet, “ Okay first we need three cries of a brindled cat. The closest thing we have is Tora, so here we go.” She squeezed said demon cat three times, and each time elicited a squawking meow. Then she tossed the cat out the front door. Sakura shivered, better that furry demon elsewhere than in here.

 “And three whines of a hedge-pig.” Shizune lifted up Tonton, who was wreathed in hedge branches. “Come on girl,” Shizune tickled under Tonton’s chin, who begrudgingly whined three times.

 Sakura’s turn. “Who even knows what a Harpier is. So, ‘Tis time. Tis time’.”

 “Once round the fire, then poisoned entrails,” Tsunade read off as she completed each action. The guts of last nights dinner plopped into the second-hand caldron with a sickening squish, fizzling as it hit the boiling water. “31 day old toad, poisonous variety, in.” She checked her receipt, then announced, “Time to boil.”

 Sakura pulled out her half finished lunch. Mmmm banh mi. Pots took forever to boil, okay? And she was hungry. It wasn’t fair to force her to wait when the spell said nothing about having to have fasted. Those spells were the absolute worst. Even worse than the spells that required specific astrological happenings or star alignments or specific portents to happen while  you were casting. There were documented and tested workarounds for those things, but nothing for fasting.

 After about half an hour, it was Shizune’s turn. “Fillet of snake, boil.” The cauldron had failed to stop boiling, so Shizune shrugged and continued. “Eye of newt, toe of frog, bat wool, dog tongue, snake tongue, lizard jaw because having a lizard bite the cauldron would be a hassle, lizard leg, owl wing. And more boiling.”

 She pulls out a book, since at the end of the addition of ingredients the cauldron had gone flat - weird flat too, spewing green smoke and a nauseatingly sweet scent. Sakura really hopes this is a spell to see the future and not some hacked together love spell. That would be a trial and a half, especially after last time. Everyone wanted the quacks potions and spells because they were cheaper, and then Sakura as low-woman on the totem pole was sent out to deal with it when petitioners came to the actual witches to get the resultant mess undone. On the plus side though, those were the days she felt the most de-stressed after she had finished undoing the spell. Clouds and silver linings and all.

 Next would be dragon scale, wolf tooth, the skin she had ripped off her callouses and mummified - no one said it had to be a dead witches mummified flesh, the jaw and stomach of a shark, hemlock root dug up in the middle of the night, human liver - because Jew liver was a little racist and also no one classified their livers by religion anymore, it wasn’t the 1300s- carefully chunked, goat bile - Sakura had to sacrifice a goat, did the spell writer even know how expensive goats were - that had been squeezed from their liver and gall bladder and stunk the whole cottage up, eclipse harvest yew twigs, human nose - again, why a Turk specifically, why do people note these things when there is no inherent difference between human noses beyond size and shape - and human lips - seriously what did these ingredients have to do with seeing the future? - and then the finger of a baby that was strangled as a prosititute gave birth to it in a ditch. That last one was horrifying, but since umbilical cords sometimes strangled babies as they were born (usually the fault of quack midwives and doctors, not that Sakura was salty or anything) it was easy enough to hie off to the county records office and find the appropriate gravesite and dig a little. Sakura felt bad, but spellwork. She’d made sure to send the baby’s spirit to rest with the Mother, though, since she felt bad for disturbing the grave. Finally tiger entails, and then boil it again. Why did she get the hardest ingredients to have to find, though? It was like someone had deliberately written that spell so that the lowest witch in the coven would have the hardest time. Hazing is what Sakura would suspect, but she’d had that already in trying to resuscitate a fish when she first applied for apprenticeship, not to mention the hand to hand combat training. Could she lodge a formal complaint about this “spell” when the Grand Coven convened next month? Spell reform was hard, but worthwhile -

 “Sakura, the cauldron!” Tsunade snapped. Sakura startled, then hurried to dump in the ingredients in the specified order. Who knew if the damn thing even needed a specific order, but noooo the original author hadn’t noted and so they were stuck adding each in order in approximately equal amounts like plebeians instead of the High Witch's Coven.

 The cauldron rapidly returned to boil, and Shizune dumped in an equal amount of baboons blood until it was cool. The trio crowded around and peered into the glassy, murky depths. Sakura had to squint, but the amount of magic lurking within the cauldron was spectacularly reactive. A touch of their magic and the surface shimmered into a mass of rushing images. Sakura felt like her brain was going to leak out of her ears, but she couldn’t move, caught in the swirling vortex of snippets of things, and knowledge, and events. Maiden’s tits. It all felt important, and connected, but she couldn’t tell how. Why would she need to know that a Demoness trapped on the Mother’s Moon was weak to naked boys? Would she need to update her antidotes and antivenoms kit sooner rather than later to save that man? And still nothing about boobs?

 Finally the spell broke and they each stumbled away from the now smoking cauldron gagging, retching, or in the case of Tsunade, vomiting into the waste paper basket.

 “Mother’s mercy,” Shizune whimpered and Sakura had to agree. At least the damned spell worked, thank the Crone.

 Tsunade wiped her mouth and stood. “Pack your bags, ladies. We’re going to need to convene the High Witches of the Elemental Nations now rather than next month.” Right, portents of doom and war. Sakura stood firmly on her still shaky feet. Magic exhaustion and shock or no, they were the High Witch’s Coven of Hi no Kuni, and Sakura would not be the one to disappoint her forerunners by breaking faith and shirking her duty. She grabbed her travel satchel, the one she’d luckily restocked just that morning, and left without looking back.

#sumigakure halloween event 2017 #prompt 3: nonharry potter witches and wizards #macbeth! #witches! #art writes