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strawberrykake · 29 days

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“Look At Your Girl….” Prank

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

>>warnings: Tsukki -> suggestive, cursing

Kageyama, Tsukishima, Atsumu, Hinata

Kageyama

Kageyama was busy preparing his busy volleyball schedule for the next week

It’s been a while since you’ve spent quality time together

So in order to get his attention, you slump beside him with your phone in hand

Sensing your presence, he places an arm around your waist.

“Hey, baby.” He pecks your cheek.

“Hi.”

Without any warning, you play the audio:

Look at your girl.

He looks at you, then at your phone then back at you, confused.

You see how good she looks?

A blush starts to form on his cheeks and his lips curve up into a smile.

Now imagine another guy enjoying her…

His grin immediately drops at the horrifying thought of someone else being with you

“Hmmph.” Kageyama pouts, hearing the rest of the audio.

His grip on your waist has gotten tighter.

“Get up.” He motions to his lap for you to sit on and you gladly hop on.

You can’t stop smiling at his cute little pout.

It was hard to resist a kiss as you leaned in to give him a peck.

You feel his hand move behind your head, bringing you closer and preventing you from pulling away

The kiss lingers a little longer than you intend it to.

“Tob—” He enters his tongue, shutting you up.

He kisses you as if reminding you how much he loves you.

His hands cradle your face as you tightly wrap your arms around his neck.

After a heated make-out session, Kageyama pulls away with a smirk on his face, feeling satisfied with the dazed look on your face

“Tobio…”

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight. On me. I’ll treat you.”

You giggle and it makes his cheeks flush even more.

At the end of the day, you are his and he is yours. he knows that. just likes to be reminded

Tsukishima

“What is it?” Tsukki asks when you approach him slowly on the bed.

He was busy reading a book. He leaves the book open faced down on top of his broad chest.

He leans against the palm of his hand, elbow bent and muscles bulging.

Of course, it’s a habit for you to lay next to him, placing your head on top of his tricep.

“Listen to this!” You pull up your phone to play the audio and Tsukki remains silent to listen.

Look at your girl. His eyebrow raises, looking sideways at you.

You see how good she looks? He nods, giving an impressed look.

Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore…

His face contorts into disgust.

When the audio ends, he picks his book right back up and adjusts his glasses.

No more words exchanged. Nothing.

“Uh, Kei?” You scoff, rubbing your nose against his arm

he ignores you

“you’re annoying” before getting up to leave.

“Aht. aht. aht. Where do you think you’re going, baby?”

“Finding another guy cuz it seems like I don’t mean sh—.”

“Don’t finish that sentence. It’s far from the truth. You know it.” Tsukki practically throws his book to the side, not caring if he lost the page he was on.

“I do. But…”

“But what?” He moves closer to the edge of the bed where you stood, taking your hands in his and kissing them.

“Tell me,” he says against your skin.

“I— I—” Instead of saying anything, you press your lips against his.

You can feel his smirk against your lips.

“If.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Wanted.” Kiss. “To kiss.” Kiss. “Just tell me, baby.”

His lips move towards your neck and you feel his arms pull you in close before falling against the bed.

“I want a kiss,” you say shyly.

He chuckles, nipping your ear.

“Okay, pretty.” Tsukki turns you both over, so that he’s on top.

Before giving you a kiss, he stares at you.

And your eyes tell him that you were longing for more than a kiss tonight.

He definitely feels the same way.

Atsumu

“hmm?” He asks mid-crunch on some chips he was stuffing into his mouth

you were simply watching some videos on your phone while cuddling atsumu when he overheard the quote

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

“who th’ fawk is talkin? what does he know about whats mine?” he says with his mouth full

You giggle

“Who’s that, baby?” He keeps asking

“just some internet guy, love”

Atsumu turns on his side to pull you in closer.

“get off it. n pay attention to me now”

You raise your brow. “I thought you’re watching sports…” you say as the tv continues to play a live soccer game

“It’s not even volleyball. It’s okay baby. C’mon..” He puckers his lips, making you squeal and push him away.

Your actions make him pout.

“Whats up? I dont mean shit to you anymore?” He mocks the person from the video.

You giggle. “You have garlic cheese breath.”

“I’ll brush my teeth if thats what it takes to get a damn kiss from ya” He excitedly hops up from the bed.

You slapping his butt as he gets up from the mattress makes him raise a finger at you (as if he isn’t used to it)

Hinata

“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”

“Man…” *Hinata says his voice cracking up. Your playful smile disappears.

“Wouldn’t that be a-awful…”

You look at him apologetically.

“Aw baby…that’ll never happen”

Hinata looks dead at you in the eye

“No. tell me. Am I a good boyfriend? Be honest. I can use any critique I can get!”

You sigh

“You’re the sweetest, most loving boyfriend ever. I don’t wanna trade you for anything or anyone, understand Sho?”

He bites his lip, suppressing himself from crying.

“I-I love you, y/n. I mean it.”

You wrap your arms around his neck tightly.

“Well I love ya forever, my sunshine boy”

He holds you close, breathing you in

There’s nothing that feels as good as hugging this man

“Fuck, let me kiss you” *He whispers lowly, already claiming your lips before you get a chance to comprehend his words

You lose your sense of thinking whenever he kisses you

When a small whimper leaves your lips, he chuckles

“Don’t need anyone to tell me how good my baby looks”

And you’re in for an intense love bombing for the next couple of weeks

#adding this to my roster of the tiktok pranks saga #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu hcs #kageyama fluff #kageyama x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima fluff #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #hi im back from being ia #i am gonna finish my drafts (or try to lol)#and then finally do reqs that’s been in my inbox for years 😭 im so sorry

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fineprintedsunsets · 8 months

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JAWBREAKER

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 1 | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List

Synopsis: Bucky's been hired to watch you as a favor to his best friend; your father. But when a game of spin the bottle has Bucky choking on his words, he just can't help himself anymore.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (both are consenting adults). dbf!bucky x f reader. mentions of violence against others (nothing undeserved) jealous bucky. unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it.) dirty talk. possessive bucky. p in v sex. is a hired bodyguard a stalker? maybe? idk. lots of praise + pet names.

taboo au + "this is fucked up" "you like it"

How Bucky ended up at a Halloween party for drunk teenagers was a mystery. A ghost-themed one at that. Kids who he wasn't even sure should be drinking clutched red solo cups filled with various alcohol, laughing obnoxiously and passing hushed whispers.

He rolled his eyes.

Teenagers.

He was sent here by your father, and although he loved the man (practically his best friend) this was the one event he regretted agreeing to accompany you to. You were 19, and why you wanted to go to a ghost-themed party with sixteen and seventeen-year-olds was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he agreed to supervise you for your father's sake. The second he steps foot through the frilly-decorated entrance, he smells the overpowering scent of marijuana and Axe cologne.

Thank god he didn’t grow up in an era where boys would wear that shit and think they were the coolest fuckers around. His nose turns up, turning to its source. It was indeed three teenage boys with what must have been a gallon of gel in their hair and crooked smiles splayed on their features.

They accompany a girl at the table, he can't see her features due to the blocking backs of the boys, but he can see one of them lift their fingers to brush ever so slightly against her arm.

The girl moves away, and when she does, Bucky's eyes catch on her.

It’s you, his best friend's daughter. He tries hard not to let his eyes linger on you, knowing he has only one job here tonight, and it’s to keep you out of harm's way. There was only one problem with that. Your father kept most of his work life hidden away from his wife and since he worked with a lot of cruel people, he decided not to involve you either.

Which means you had never met his best friend. You didn’t even know he had one. Bucky was sent here to watch you from afar, your dad didn’t want you to know he sent someone to supervise you every single time you went out.

You pass the boy a look, awkwardly shaking your head. You attempt to laugh it off and walk away, but the boy grabs your wrist. Bucky bristles where he stands against a wall, having just entered.

He can’t approach you, he couldn’t risk you finding out who he was. But oh how he wanted to break all twenty-eight of Jelly Hair’s pitiful knuckles.

“Let go, Jake.” You growl out, but Jelly Hair won’t let up, wrapping his digits around your tiny wrist and forcing you to sit back down. It angers him, how the other boys he’s sitting with laugh at his antics.

A loud crunching sound echoes from someone over at your table and Bucky leans away from the wall, getting ready to intercept, thinking he may have hit you. He should be ashamed of the anger that blossoms through his chest.

Jake’s fingers slip from your wrist as the other boys jump up. Jelly Hair turns toward the door where Bucky is standing, allowing him to spectate the blood now running from his nose.

He can’t help the smile that graces his features.

You hit him.

“My girl” Bucky finds himself whispering. He tucks his hand in his pockets, moving away from the entrance and more profound into whoever's house this is. White lights flash from the rooms as music blares from speakers in the living room.

Everyone is dressed like a ghost, some people; like you are wearing a t-shirt that displays a cute drawing of a supernatural creature. Others wear sheets with glasses placed overtop of them, or uneven eye-holes cut out of the white fabric.

Bucky grabs a solo cup and fills it up with Cola, the only non-alcoholic drink on the ping-pong table. His metal fingers grip the cup and bring it to his lips, only to spit it back into the cup.

“What the fuck.” He mutters, scrunching his face in distaste. He does a double take on the bottle, bringing the contents up to his nose, Rum.

It’s fucking Rum Coke.

He takes the cup anyway, having no intention to sip from it anymore. He blends in this way, holding a solo cup just like the other hundred people here. His blue eyes search for you in the crowd, spotting you right away, your body settled on the lap of a man, early 20’s he’d say.

A feeling he’s all too familiar with when it comes to you surges through his veins, seeing the white skirt you're wearing hike up, allowing him and everyone else to see his hand knead at your ass.

Bucky’s jaw clenches as he watches you lean into the man, your lips wrapping around his, your eyes closing. Bucky has no idea who he is, but whoever he is, his dick is growing hard under you, having very clear intentions of what he’s about to do. And Bucky will be damned if he allows you to get fucked by this piece of shit.

Not that it should matter to him. You should have a man that would treat you right, protect you, pleasure you. Not this dick-wad who wants a quick fuck. Your father wanted him to keep you out of trouble, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

At least, it’s what he tells himself.

Bucky watches for a few more seconds as you rub yourself over his cock, painfully humping it. He knows you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it, it’s evident on your face. The dick-wad beneath you is, and that’s what makes Bucky’s fingers ball into tight fists, making him grind his teeth down again, on the verge of breaking his goddamn jaw.

That’s what you were.

A fucking jawbreaker, surely you were smarter than this. You had to have known you were worth so much more. You had to know dick-wad couldn’t make up for a quarter of that amount.

“Spin the bottles starting downstairs!” A girl announces from the banister. She’s drunk, very drunk, Bucky notices. She also must be the owner of the way her fingers wrap around the railing.

He could just tell.

Bucky feels the relief flood his chest when you turn away from the man, clearly seeing a good excuse for escape. He growls but lets you go as he soon follows suit. Bucky has no interest in watching you play spin the bottle, but of course, he has not all a choice.

He couldn’t decide whether it was his job, (why he was here in the first place, he’s had to repeat that to himself a few times throughout the night.) Or because he didn’t want to watch a bunch of horny teenagers shove their fucking tongues down your throat, heat bloomed in his chest, mixing with anger.

Either way, he would have to break more than fourteen knuckles tonight.

✪

Bucky’s already taken his place on the wall, going unnoticed as the kids gather around in a circle, sitting with their legs crossed, fixated on the bottle that is situated in the middle.

You sit on the right side, next to some other girls he recognizes.

Women.

You were 19 years old for god sake.

The woman from earlier, the owner of the house, Bucky had now learned the name of, Jess plops next to the man from earlier, her eyes analyzing all the players. Other people stand, just here to spectate the game, giving Bucky plenty of cover.

“We need one more player!” Her voice slurs, looking up from her sitting position, searching for the correct person to fill the gap right across from you. Your eyes search around with Jess’s until both pairs land on him.

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

“What’s your name?”

Bucky grinds his teeth together again, he’ll be very surprised if he has teeth after tonight.

“James.” He grits out, trying his very best to seem like he doesn't want to be here. Which isn’t very hard.

He doesn't.

“You look a bit old to be here, James.” Jess' eyes roam the others, looking for the attention she so desperately wants. The others let out faux chuckles. Bucky can still feel your eyes burning through his, even though over fifty pairs are now aimed at him, you stick out.

You always have.

“Who invited their dad, guys?” Jess pokes again, her ghastly features twisting in a terrible laugh. Other people laugh now, but Bucky doesn’t mind. You don’t laugh, your features scrunch at Jess’s words. The man didn’t look old at all, older than a teenager sure, he was quite handsome.

“Come on, James. Join us!” You call, and the man's eyes immediately meet yours. You can’t help yourself, you gasp at the intensity of them, the beautiful blue irises that stare back at you.

Bucky still didn’t move from the wall, it was very evident he had no choice in this matter. “A little party never killed anybody, James.” Jess’s cat-like mouth squeaks.

“Bucky-” He corrects, heaving a sigh. “Just Bucky.” Bucky walks over to the circle, watching the gathering crowd part. Allowing him to sit like the rest of them, occupying the spot across from you.

“Let’s get started, Anon, Why don’t you spin first?”

Anon, a very stereotypical frat boy reaches for the bottle, his companions cheering behind him. The glass spins as everyone's eyes follow it, even Bucky’s.

The end lands on Jess, which is ironic. Bucky is checking off his mental checklist, he’s no matchmaker but..

Obnoxious Voices. Check. Annoying Presence. Check. Feline Like Faces. Check. Rich Pieces Of Shit. Check.

Those two were made for each other.

The two kiss awkwardly, the whole crowd kicking and screaming taunts, acting like children who just touched a deceased insect. Bucky settles into the hard-concrete floor, getting ready for a very excruciating game.

✪

It’s about an hour before you finally get the bottle in your hands. Everyone waits on bated breath as you capture your bottom lip between your teeth. You grab the bottle and spin, watching the glass glide across the concrete floor.

It clicks and clanks before it stops, and the endpoints to the stranger.

The older man that’s been stuck to the wall the whole party. You’ve never seen him before but were quite intrigued when you caught him looking at you during the game, pretending as if he wasn't.

The stranger's eyes flick open, looking at the end pointed towards him and then where you sit across from him. You smile to yourself as Bucky stays in his position.

The chanting starts when Jess’s voice echoes through the room, “You have to kiss the old man!” She’s 20, but acts like a five-year-old.

“Kiss!”

People around you repeat, and so you do the only logical thing to do. You place your hands in front of you and crawl to Bucky, knowing full well your skirt is riding up as you do so.

You can see his jaw clenching. You arrive in front of him, propping yourself up on your knees, Bucky's eyes look up at where you slightly tower over him.

You reach your fingers to graze his jaw, and when your fingers meet his subtle, the fifty pairs of eyes disappear. Right now, it’s just you and him. “Come here.” You mutter, bringing his face to yours.

Bucky hesitates, but lets it happen anyway. He’s captivated by you, you can tell. He wants to pull away but can’t.

Time seems to slow as your eyes close and your noses touch, stopping before letting your lips meet each other. Heat builds in your stomach, anticipation and want bubbling deep inside your core.

“This is fucked up.” He whispers, his breath grazing your wet lips.

“You like it.” You answer, before pulling his face to yours, your lips colliding in perfect harmony. Heat fills your stomach, settling itself between your thighs. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup your scalp, molding his palm to your head, crushing his lips against yours.

Your tongue slides into his mouth, entangling with his own. Your breath heaves as your stomach urges for more, your thighs pressing together in your kneeling position. You pull away before you can go any farther, breath heaving, a string of saliva still connecting your puffy lips.

The words that exit his mouth are barely audible, but you catch them. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“Get a room, lovebirds,” Jess calls, laughing with the others. But you ignore them, your eyes are still pulled into that trance, still feeling Bucky’s lips on yours.

The next thing you know, Bucky is getting up, his hand reaching for your own. You gulp at his gaze now, seeing the intensity switch to something different.

Something primal.

✪ Somehow you ended up in a closet, with Bucky’s breath fanning over your neck, his cock painfully straining against his jeans. It took all but four seconds for your clothes to be off, Bucky’s joined yours short after, pooling on the floor of the large closet.

“Sweetheart-” Bucky sounds breathless as he reaches out, his metal hand (which you okay with, apparently) running down the curve of your breast, dipping in your bra to twirl a cool digit around your semi-hard peak. (Especially when they made you feel like that.)

“How old are you?” You press, moaning as Bucky’s other hand cups your waist, making sparks fly up and down your skin. This closet, which is bigger than the master bedroom, has suddenly gotten small.

Bucky fights the urge to smack your ass in response, you didn’t care about age when you were grinding on that man’s cock.

“106.” He answers thoughtfully, but you only laugh, catching he wasn’t going to tell you his age. Bucky’s face scrunches in wonder, but it quickly fades when you press your body into his own, running your smooth fingers over his muscled abdomen.

“You sure you want to do this, baby?”

“Positive.”

Bucky brings your lips to his, all while taking hold of your hips, backing you into one of the closet's white walls. You engrossed in his touch, the feel of his fingers on your bare stomach, pushing you against the wall.

“I’d make you hump my cock, ‘show you what real pleasure is. But there’s no couch in here, sweet girl.” You feel your pussy clench at his words, you hadn’t known he was watching you then.

“Just gonna have to take me bare,” Bucky mutters, his hands grabbing your back, flipping you around so your palms are planted above you, your ass jutting out. His fingers knead at the meat of your ass, making sure to erase any hand-prints dick-wad may have left. You moan, bucking into his touch, wanting more.

“Greedy girl, you think you deserve my cock? Bare, too? You think you can handle that type of pleasure?” His fingers ghost over your panties, barely hitting your clit.

“Bucky! Please.”

Bucky smiles, knowing what he’s doing to you. If he wasn’t about to fuck you in a closet at a party he would tease you a lot more, and make you pay for letting that man touch you. You both knew you couldn’t wait that long, and neither could he.

Bucky pulls down your panties, noticing how your slick coats the fabric. “These are drenched, all for me, hmm?” He was so hesitant at first, to kiss and touch you, but now he didn’t give a shit.

You were his now.

Your panties soon joined the rest of your clothes. Bucky’s breath caught when he looked down at you, making your thighs clench together. He runs a metal finger through your folds, collecting your slick.

You cry out from the spark of pleasure, attempting to keep yourself up against the wall.

“You're so wet for me, sweet girl.” You feel lightheaded as Bucky releases himself from his boxers, you can’t see anything, only the white paint of the wall.

You can feel his tip nudge at your entrance, as he leans down, placing soft kisses along your back. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Okay? You want to be filled with my cock?”

“Yes!” You buck your hips, your eyes tightly closed as you feel his cock slide itself to the hilt, using your gathered arousal to aid in his thrust. You cry out, the stretch is both painful and pleasurable. Bucky groans, feeling the way you clench around his cock, feeling the tightness of your cunt.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Taking me so well.” For a few moments, you just stand there, Bucky letting you adjust to his cock, to the feeling of being filled up completely. You had sex before, plenty of it, but you never took a guy bare.

But Bucky, the way his cock sat inside of you, not even moving and it still shooting sparks into your stomach, was something you’d never thought you’d experience.

“Can I move, baby? You alright?” You nod your head while Bucky places another kiss on your back, pulling his cock out to the tip, and pushing back in.

“Ahh-”

“Feel good, sweetgirl?” Words simply do not exist anymore, Bucky whispers against you with each thrust of his cock, his movements slow at first, allowing you to take the most pleasure out of it, trying so hard not to cause you any pain.

The wet noises of your body's meeting over and over again fill the air, and somehow it drowns out the music of the party. Bucky’s groans and your moans tangle together as you buck your hips to meet his thrust, accommodating his cock.

“So good, baby.” You clench at his words, milking his cock. Bucky smiles, looking down at you.

Bucky’s metal arm comes around your bare stomach, making your thighs fall open wider, “Like when I praise you? Your pretty little pussy loves when I tell her she’s doing a good job, baby.”

A single digit finds your clit, Bucky rubs at it, slow tantalizing circles as you buck into him.

“I want you to come on my cock, I need to see this pussy clench around me harder.” Your body involuntarily does as he asks, your cunt clenching down on his cock as his thrusts speed their tempo and his finger matches the torture at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm stirring deep in your belly, the heat from the room going straight to your head, encasing you in its bubble.

“That’s it.” Bucky praises, dragging out both words, “Good girl, come for me.”

You do, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through your veins, as Bucky chases his release, making sure you get over the edge first. His breaths come out in pants as his cock pushes into your cunt at a punishing speed. “I wonder how your daddy would feel if he knew you just came on his best friend's cock.”

“What?”

#marvel #masterlist #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut #buckbarnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader #buckybarnessmut #hauntedhoedownmasterlist #haunted hoedown #inklore #dbf!bucky #older man younger woman #consent

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spider-stark · 2 months

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THE DEVIL'S GAME

MATT MURDOCK X VIGILANTE!READER

Summary - Seeking retribution, you find yourself wandering into Hell's Kitchen, only to become ensnared by the Daredevil himself.

Warnings - 18+, broken bones, blood, flirty shit, vaguely suggestive

Word Count - 2.9k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t your neighborhood.

But you hadn’t thought twice about it before leaving the comfort of your home, abandoning Queens to fulfill a dream of paltry retribution.

Any other night and you might have considered the consequences of crossing into the Kitchen, but tonight your judgment had been clouded by an opportunity to finally lay your hands on the slippery brute that had gotten under your skin as of late.

And, by the time you realized that you had willingly traipsed into the Devil’s Realm, it had been far too late.

Farlin Costain was a particularly skilled pick-pocket, renowned amongst his fellow New York gutter rats—including petty thieves, drug dealers, and the likes—for his stealth and cunning. Typically, you wouldn’t have bothered with someone so low on the food chain, leaving him for some smaller vigilante to handle.

Unfortunately for Costain, he made a costly mistake when he had made a target of your sweet, innocent roommate last week. And while you once wouldn’t have spared Costain so much as a second glance, you now had every intention of making him regret the very day he was born.

“C’mon Farly! Already giving up?” You sang, patronizing him as you pressed your foot down harder against his breastbone. “I thought you wanted to play! Remember?”

Word spread like wildfire that you were looking for Costain as every back-alley criminal in New York gossiped about what he must’ve done to catch your eye. Because of this, it only took a few days for Costain to catch wind that you were on his trail—and, being an absolute moron, he spent an entire drunken night in Scruffy Duffy’s Saloon bragging to friends and strangers alike that, should you find him, he could easily take you in a fight.

Alas, the bartender at Duffy’s—an old informant of yours—was glad to send you a text detailing Costain’s visit. The pieces fell into place quickly after that, and soon you found out that the asshole was staying in a shitty mid-rise apartment just down the street from the bar.

He hadn’t heard you when you skillfully leapt from the neighboring building, landing atop his apartment to spy him and a few of his cut-purse buddies passing a joint. As soon as you stepped into the light, his friends scurried like roaches, darting for the door to the stairwell.

None of them were particularly recognizable, and since your vendetta wasn’t with them, you gladly let them escape.

But not Costain.

“Fucking cunt!” Costain wheezed beneath your weight, writhing on the gravel that lined the rooftop and spitting blood on your shiny black boots. You grimaced—disgusting.

“Is that the best you’ve got? Blood can be cleaned up—but it’s gonna take weeks for your nose to heal. Do you really want your friends to find out that you couldn’t take me? That you couldn’t even get a hit in?” You continued to chastise him, head cocking to the side as you examined the blood still gushing from his now crooked nose.

To Farlin’s credit, he had tried to fight back, having pulled a switchblade out as soon as you made a move for him. Unfortunately for him, the stealth needed to swipe wallets and watches was as far as his combat skills seemed to go, and it had taken you less than a few seconds to send the blade tumbling over the edge of the rooftop, clanking on the sidewalk below.

But what Costain lacked in skill, he certainly made up for in spirit.

“I can’t fucking breathe!” He rasped; his throat still raw from all the screaming he’d done after the nauseating crunch of his nasal bones. Thrashing beneath you, he lifted his hands to your ankle and began clawing and hitting and scratching, desperately trying to pry your foot off of his chest. “Get off!”

You didn’t so much as flinch as his fists whirled at your calf, nor did you relieve any of the pressure you were applying to his breast. Instead, you pressed even harder, giving him a wicked grin.

“You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” You mused, noting the slight weakness of the punches coming from his right. “Are you ambidextrous?”

Gasping, Costain’s eyes lit with fury as a strangled sound ripped from his throat, growling at you.

“I’ll take that as a no,” You hummed, your cheshire grin growing wider now. “They say that anyone can learn, y’know. How to use both hands.”

Crouching down, you forced more of your weight onto him as you leaned over his face, your loose hair grazing his cheek. The fury in his eyes had already extinguished, replaced with an icy fear. His arms began to fall limp at his sides, his body too oxygen deprived to keep fighting you.

“If you wanna learn,” you droned, tracing a single digit along the curve of his plump, blue lips, “then I’d be glad to give you some encouragement.”

Faster than light, you slid your weight off his chest, rising above him. Farlin heaved at the loss of pressure, miserably trying to fill his aching lungs with air.

Too delirious to fight back, he didn’t even notice when you lunged for his wrist, grabbing hold and hastily yanking him to his feet. You pressed your other hand right above his elbow, giving it all your force as you snapped his arm at the joint, the bones splintering and giving a deeply satisfying CRUNCH!

Farlin had filled his greedy lungs with just enough oxygen to let out a gnarly scream as the pain washed over him like a tidal wave, sending him crumbling to his knees in front of you.

“Damn, my bad,” you huffed, frowning at the sight of him, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched his right arm. “I was supposed to break the left one, wasn’t I? I can be such a ditz sometimes, huh? But no worries—I can fix this!”

You went to reach for his left arm, taking far too much pleasure in the terror that ignited in his glossy eyes, but the adrenaline now pumping in his veins gave him an edge. Using his newfound chemical courage to try and scramble away from your assault, he managed to just barely evade the quick swipe of your hand, only to then fall backwards onto his ass.

You snorted a laugh at him—useless.

Too terrified to try and make a second attempt at escape, Costain only looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to leave him alone. You considered it for a second—just one—scrounging deep within yourself for even a trace of pity for the thief.

Unfortunately, you came up empty-handed, as you often did when dealing with trash like Costain.

You went for his left arm a second time, but as soon as you took a single step, something stopped you.

No—scratch that—not something, but someone.

A muscular arm wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms at your sides. You went to make your escape, but before you could tense even a single muscle, another arm wrapped around your throat—not applying pressure, not yet, but effectively trapping you and leaving you incredibly vulnerable.

“I think he’s had enough for one night,” a luscious voice spoke in your ear, the warmth of their breath grazing along your neck, “Don’t you?”

You were as still as a doe in headlights, carefully flicking your gaze down to the arms wrapping around you. Noticing the all-black sleeves that covered them, you sunk your teeth into your cheek. As far as you could tell from your current position, there was nothing discernable about the mystery man holding you hostage.

“Not at all,” you admitted to him, cunning as ever. “I was just getting started.”

The man gave a disapproving grunt. “You’ve already terrified him. He can hardly breathe,” he pointed out as if you weren’t aware of the heaving mess lying on the ground in front of you.

“Even better,” you quipped, trying not to flinch when the arm around your waist suddenly tightened. “I like it when they’re afraid.”

His breath caressed your skin again as he scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sadistic game you like to play with these men, but keep it your own borough, got it? I’ve heard about what you’ve done in Queens—and my neighborhood isn’t open to being your new playground.”

The declaration gave you pause. Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered where you were and whose territory you had crossed into and made a mess in. His neighborhood–

Fuck—you swallowed, only to find that your mouth had gone dry—he’s the fucking Daredevil.

Costain seemed to put the pieces together at the same time as you. And, while still weeping over his shattered nose and broken arm, decided to crawl towards the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, hiding behind him and deciding to take his chances with him over you.

Fucking coward.

“I didn’t realize the Devil kept tabs on the rest of us,” you teased, trying to settle the pounding of your heart as you grappled with the dangerous fact that the Daredevil knew who you were. “You never bother coming to the annual vigilante sleepovers.”

He hummed, but there was no hint of amusement. “I only keep tabs on the one's worth knowing about—and you have been making quite a mess. Last I heard, you were leaving innocent men mangled and bloody on every street corner from Queens to Brooklyn.”

Irritation warmed your veins, blood thrumming in your ears as you howled, “Innocent?!” You gave a dry laugh, “The men I deal with are far from innocent, Devil-boy! The man you just saved is a fucking thief! And last I checked, you and I are supposed to be on the same team!”

“We aren’t even playing the same game, sweetheart.” Daredevil corrected, the endearment slipping from his tongue sounding more like an insult than anything else. “He’s a petty thief. If your only interest was in keeping the streets clean, then you could’ve easily taken him down and left him on the doorstep of the nearest police station.”

You cut your eyes, slumping in his hold. “And where’s the fun in that?”

“You really are hopeless,” He snorted, unimpressed. “One broken arm is more than enough retribution for a pick-pocket. Swear you won’t touch him, and I’ll let you go.”

“Or I could break your arm instead,” you suggested coyly, either in an attempt to flirt with or distract him.

You tried to wiggle your arms at your sides, assessing just how much you were able to move. His own muscled arm rested just above your elbows, leaving some limited motion in your wrists and forearms. You wouldn’t be able to do much with it—nothing spectacular—but maybe…

“If you thought you were strong enough to do that then you would’ve tried it already.” He countered.

“Well, physical strength isn’t the only way out of a sticky situation, Devil-boy,” you reminded him. “But I’m more than confident that I could kick your ass.”

The hold around your neck suddenly grew taut, his forearm lightly pressing against your windpipe in a subtle reminder that he was much stronger than you. “With a single move,” he purred, “I could snap your neck. Your life is in my hands.”

Your pulse throbbed, but you didn’t panic, even as every instinct you had was screaming at you to give in—to stop antagonizing him and vow to never lay another hand on Costain again.

But you were never very good at listening to that little voice in your head that told you what to do.

Taking a hefty bet on your life, you used what limited motion you had in your arms to wiggle them back and slide them around his hips. You felt his muscles tense, readying himself to fight you or choke you or something, but juvenile laughter was already spilling from your lips as you brazenly cupped his backside in your palms.

“My life might be in your hands,” you declared through a fit of giggles, “but your ass is in mine!”

Your confidence grew when you realized that he hadn’t yet choked you out for your insolence—too stunned to react at all—and so you took full advantage of his inability to move without releasing you. Using your newfound grip on him, you shoved his crotch against your ass, grinding back against him just enough to catch him further off-guard.

An involuntary groan slipped his lips at the rough contact, his voice gloriously low and hoarse and absolutely to die for.

Daredevil figured you would try to fight back, but he had been expecting something along the lines of hand-to-hand combat—and not once had he considered that your preferred method of fighting would be grinding your ass against his dick.

Shocked, unprepared, and a little horny, Daredevil took a step back to try and put space between your body’s, his grip turning lax as his blood rushed south. You took advantage of his single moment of weakness, managing to slip from his grasp with some ease now.

“See?” You boasted, holding your arms out dramatically as you stood in front of him, finally face to face. “I told you physical strength wasn’t the only way out.”

Daredevil was quick to regain his composure, and when you noticed a muscle feather in his jaw, you had the good sense to move swiftly into a ready position—just in case the Devil wanted to dance.

But he made no move towards you, even as your fists lifted in his direction. He stayed where he was, clicking his tongue as he said, “You fight dirty.”

A smirk played on your lips. “You don’t know the half of it. But don’t worry, I’m just as much a masochist as I am a sadist,” you teased, blatantly admiring the appearance of his toned muscles beneath the tight-fitting black shirt he wore, “so we can take turns, if you want.”��

He laughed, actually laughed. “Never gonna happen.”

You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him, but he didn’t react.

“Why not? Looks to me like you enjoyed having me touch you,” you spared a glance to the now sizable bulge in his dark jeans. “Tell you what, Devil-boy, let me break his other arm and I’ll consider taking care of that for you.”

Costain gave a pathetic whimper at that, as if he too could sense the growing tension in the air and worried that Daredevil might be willing to sell-out in favor of getting off.

Ignoring his whining, Daredevil took a step closer to you, and then another. Your body reacted, muscles growing taut as you prepared yourself to strike him. But, when he halted less than a couple of inches from you, you felt as if your bones had all but turned to jelly.

He smelled of expensive cologne and cheap coffee, and even with the black mask covering the entire upper half of his face, you had no doubt that he was impossibly handsome. Your heart thrummed wildly in your chest, and as if he could hear it, he gave you a satisfied grin.

“Your mouth is as filthy as your techniques,” he rebuked, though a hint of amusement and intrigue laced his tone. “Tell you what,” Daredevil mimicked you, “you’re gonna get out of my neighborhood—now. And, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stick to your side of the city from now on.” His breath fanned against your cheeks, and a warmth suddenly crept up your neck. “Got it?”

“And if I don’t?” You felt incredibly small beneath his impressive height, having bent your neck to look up at him.

The Devil seemed to stare down at you—no, he seemed to stare through you, though his eyes remained entirely hidden beneath the mask. You wondered what color they were, if they were as pretty as the rest of him, and how they might look rolling into the back of his head as you straddled his waist—but your fantasies were cut short as he stretched an arm towards you and roughly caught your jaw in his hand.

You grunted at the unexpected contact, the sound making his grin grow wider. His nails scraped lightly against your cheek as you tried to jerk away from the touch, but it was a futile attempt. “If you don’t,” he muttered, leaning in closer as his tongue glided across his lips, enticing you further, “then I’ll make sure that you regret it.”

A bit breathless, you tried your best to sound unaffected, only for the slight wobble in your voice to give you away, “Sounds like a challenge.”

His head tilted to the side, as if he were watching you, listening to the erratic pounding in your chest and the sound of blood rushing your veins. For a heartbeat you let your gaze fall to his chiseled jaw, to his mouth, calculating the risk of leaning in and catching his pouty bottom lip between your teeth.

“It’s not,” he assured you, his voice thick and gruff. “It’s a promise.”

You stifled a hiss as he released your jaw from his grip. He didn’t spare another word before turning away, the gravel crunching beneath his clunky combat boots as he went straight to Costain, heaving the thief off the ground by his non-broken arm.

If it were anyone else stealing away your target, you likely would’ve cut them down right alongside Costain.

But it hadn’t been just anyone—it was the Devil.

Dumbstruck and more than mildly infatuated with the alluring Daredevil, you knew that tonight would be the first of many visits to Hell’s Kitchen.

my brain is rotting because i've written 44+k words in a single month because i decided to rewrite infinitely you and while taking a small break from working on it i created this garbage fire of a matt murdock one shot.

thanks for reading

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strangerquinns · 3 months

Text

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 30

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count:

⪻ previous chapter | stranger things masterlist | chapter one

You sighed heavily as you felt the sun beating down on you and warming your skin. A sheen of sweat started to build up along your forehead, causing you to reach up and swipe it away with your forearm. In the distance, you could hear the sound of some of the kids playing and running around outside, and the barking of some of the dogs as they playfully ran alongside them.

It brought a smile to your face to see that in a little over a year – happiness seemed to have settled into the camp but most importantly…you, again.

The soft crunch of feet against the gravel path that lined the garden boxes and small farm grabbed your attention and caused you to turn your eyes and focus on the noise. Wendy walked toward you with a basket in her hands, the sun causing her freckles to become more prominent along her nose and cheeks.

Things have been going well since Hopper had given Wendy a chance and let her join the camp. It took a while for some of the others to accept her, a couple making it more than known they weren’t happy. But Wendy didn’t let that stop her from becoming part of the group. She worked hard for her place and to show others that she could be trusted. Though it had only been in the recent months the dirty looks and whispers seemed to disappear.

“Come to collect for the kitchen?” You asked, wiping your dirty hands along your apron, before standing from the gardening box you were knelt beside.

“Hoping there are a few more veggies for tonight? We’re running a little low,” Wendy spoke, stopping to stand right beside you.

“We should have something. Shannon will have what’s stored in the barn.” You sighed softly. “How is kitchen duty?”

“Liking it way more than the medical wing.” Wendy laughed lightly, “I’m all for helping people but blood makes me squeamish. I’m happy that Hopper let me switch.”

“Has nothing to do with a certain…someone…would it?” You teased, the gleam in your eyes making Wendy roll hers.

“Shut up,” She reached out and playfully swatted at your arm, causing you to laugh and dodge away from her touch. “Don’t start with that!”

“Oh come on, it’s so obvious that he has a crush on you too. He gets all pathetic whenever you come around. It’s adorable.”

“Jonathan and I are just friends,” Wendy spoke, following you as you turned to lead her toward the small barn. “He’s someone that I like to talk to, and makes me laugh, but it’s strictly a friendship.”

“You’d be good for him, especially after what happened to Nancy and his brother. He needs some good in his life.”

“Whatever you say, Wen.”

The two of you walked the short path toward the barn where a few others were working. Opening the back storeroom, you filled Wendy's basket with a few vegetables that would be needed for the kitchen.

“Eddie and the others supposed to be back soon?” Wendy asked as the two of you exited the barn.

“Supposedly.” You sighed heavily, “It’s been longer than planned,”

Wendy stopped and turned to look at you, seeing the furrowed brow and frown on your lips. She placed her basket onto her hip, before moving her hand to place a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“He’s going to be ok, and he’s going to come back. That man is too crazy about you to leave you behind.”

You nodded your head, “I know…I know…just worry, can’t help it.”

“Do you miss going on raids?”

“No,” You answered with hesitation, “I don’t. But in place of worrying about going out there, I worry about him coming back. Because I’m not there to help protect him.”

“I have a feeling he’d say the same about you if roles were reversed,” Wendy said.

“That’s why I like being on farm duty. Keeps my mind occupied and the chickens make great company.”

Wendy laughed as the two of you continued to head up the path, Wendy leaving out the gate before you returned back to your work.

You exit the cafeteria after having dinner with Robin, Wendy, Gareth, and Max. Night had fallen over Hawkins the soft sound of crickets in the distance mixing with distant conversations of those that lingered about outside. You pulled Eddie’s coat tighter around your body, a summer chill settling in the wind, as you walked the path back to the trailer.

You stepped into the trailer you shared with Eddie and were hit with a mixture of both your scents and the scent of home. You could feel your body relax even more the moment you walked through the small metal door. Stripping off his coat and sitting in on the back of the chair beside the door, you walked toward the back bedroom. All you wanted was to strip off your clothes from the day, take a quick cold shower, and crawl into your bed.

But the sound of the door opening, and closing followed but a familiar voice calling out; “Sweetheart?”, changed all of that.

You nearly tripped over yourself as you rushed to exit the small bedroom. Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you race toward him in the small space, before launching yourself into his arms. He groaned as your body slammed into his but kept his arms tight around you. Your fingers fisted through his dark curls as his face muzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my god,” Your body shook slightly in his arms, “Oh my god, you’re home.”

It was like you didn’t realize fully till that moment how afraid you were till you saw his face again. To feel him in your arms and to know that he was ok.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” Eddie repeated “I’m so sorry that took so long,”

You pulled back and caressed his face with both your hands, noticing a cut along his forehead, blood scabbed over causing a frown on your face, “What happened?”

“Flayed, that’s why it took so long.” Eddie sighed, stepping back but not fully out of your arms. “We got trapped in a neighborhood looking for supplies, bastard got me in the head. But I’m safe, I’m clean, saw Gareth before I came here.”

Your thumb rubbed against his cheeks, frown deepening more as you noticed the bruises forming, “You’re sure you’re ok?”

“I promise, baby,” Eddie nodded, “Now all I wanna do is take a shower and get into bed with you.”

You smiled softly and moved to kiss him, moaning softly against his lips, missing the feel of his lips pressed against yours.

“Come on,”

You slowly reached down and grabbed his larger hand into yours and led him toward the back of the trailer, the two of you stripping out of your clothes, and stepping into the small stall. The cold water didn’t feel as bad with Eddie’s warm body pressed against yours, the two of you helping the other wash up. The shower was quick, both of your drying off, before slowly shuffling back to the bedroom.

You slipped into your PJs and crawled under the old, warm blankets as you sank into the bed. Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist and immediately pulled you into him – placing his face right back into your neck and taking a deep breath. The two of you load there in each other’s arms. Eddie moved his hands beneath your shirt and slowly began to rub against your skin.

“I think I need to take a break from the raid team,” Eddie spoke, his voice muffled by your skin. “Maybe do patrol for a little? Help out at the gate and border.”

“Is it becoming too much?” You asked, repeating the rhythm he was doing against your back as you moved your fingers against his scalp.

“A bit, and I haven’t taken one in a long time.” Eddie pulled back so he looked down at you, “Just…need it, you know?”

“I do.” You nodded your head, “Talk with Hopper in the morning, not going to say I’m not against you staying here for a little bit. I miss you too much.”

“I miss you too, baby,”

Eddie caressed your face gently before his lips were once again pressed against yours. His body pressed down against yours with his hand moving down and hooking your leg around his waist. The two of you laid there till the peace of sleep took over the both of you.

And after everything you’d been through – you were finally at peace as well.

At home with the one you loved.

thank you to all who read this story. I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoyed it. Just wanted to give a short, peaceful ending to reader and eddie.

@mopeymopeymouse / @aris-house / @brxkenartt /@akiratoro420

@stylesxmunson/ @aactuaaltraash / @fandomgirl17 / @ches-86/ @chaoticcancer / @munsonology / @bellamy-barnes / @theonlyh3artbreaker / @idkidknemore / @familyvideowithsteve / @eddiesdingus / @thefemininemystiquee / @the-world-is-a-mess-and-so-am-i / @xdarkcreaturex / @lunr-flwr / @cherry-omi/ @im-emma22@munson-enthusiast / @munsonmecrazy / @jupitar-jul / @katiemrty/ @maddie-luvs-eddie /@eddiemusworld/ @ih3artdanielle / @eddiesguitarskills / @hargrovesswifee /@chaoticcancer / @rh1nestonecowg1rl / @atombombbibunny /@munson-enthusiast / @hellf-1-re / @fangirling-4-ever / @corrcdedcoffin /@sidthedollface2 / @emma77645 / @eddiiiieeee /@beep-beep-sherlock / @moldy-khunt / @bokutoswifey /@trixyvixx / @lma1986 / @plk-18 / @sav12321

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #joseph quinn x reader

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strawberryspence · 1 year

Text

happy birthday @henderdads! this one's for you my beautiful friend! i am extremely glad you were born! 🍰🥂🥳

Truthfully, Steve didn't think he'd live past nineteen. He remembers not wanting to get past twenty.

After everything. After having fought and surviving five silent wars, after studying and graduating, after teaching for years, after being a father, a son, a brother and a friend.

After everything. After Steve lived his life the best he could, he settles down.

He settles down in a field, just outside the outskirts of his childhood hometown. It's a small cottage, a few miles away from Hopper's old cabin. It's usually empty now, but it's there when the gremlins want a vacation. When they just want to unplug and find peace.

Somewhere, a few miles down from Steve's, is a tiny hidden house. Its hidden by shades of trees and vines of flowers. Behind it, is Robin and Nancy's cottage. At first, Nancy wasn't really sure about the idea of living in the middle of the forest. But no one— not even her wife— could stop Robin from following Steve to the ends of this world. Now, they live there most of the year, and half they spend in the city.

There's a soft breeze on his face as Steve slowly braids a flower into a crown with shaky hands. It's from the old age, he thinks. But if Robin was here, she would say it's from all the fights. It's muscle memory, as he weaves through the crown. He must've made hundreds of them when Aurora and Arwen was growing up.

Steve's two little princesses. Not that they're little anymore. His little girls are now women. Running about around the country, doing their own things, leaving their marks in this world.

When he finally locks the last end of the stem from the other part, he sighs with relief. The weather is nice. The sun directly hitting him on his face, the wind cascading and making the trees shake. The sound of it so relaxing, his eyes flutter shut. Steve lays his back on the picnic blanket, he knows he'll regret it later, but what the hell?

He thinks about the life he has lived and the life he is still living. Seventeen year old Steve Harrington didn't even think he would reach this age, didn't think he'd ever be this happy. But here he is. Comfortable in his wrinkly skin, happy.

There's leaves crunching as he hears the soft footsteps of someone walking to him.

"Sweetheart."

Steve peeps an eye open, and at first he doesn't see anything but the bright beam of the sun. But the figure moves, blocking the sun and everything in Steve's whole axis stops.

The figure smiles down at him. There's a few more wrinkles on his face when he smiles. The scar on his left cheek is barely even there anymore. His hair tucked into a small bun and when the wind blows, there's tiny wisps of hair that moves along. He's beautiful. He's always been beautiful. It's been more than forty years, and Eddie Munson still leaves him breathless.

There's rustling as Eddie kneels and sits beside him on the picnic blanket, "Sweetheart, I told you not to lay on the ground. Your back is going to hurt tonight. I swear to God if you say a damn word about it."

Steve snickers, holding out a hand so he can get some help to sit up. Eddie glares at him but takes it, helping him to sit up and sag against the trunk of the tree shading them.

"It's my birthday, Eds. I deserve the birthday massage."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, "The birthday massage I gave you this morning wasn't enough?"

Steve feels himself blush, nudging his elbow on Eddie, "Shut up."

Eddie laughs. Open, loud and free. Steve will never get tired of hearing it. He moves closer to kiss Steve's cheek, "I can't believe you still blush over the shit I say. We basically have nine nuggets together, that's more than you wanted."

Steve groans, "Will you ever let the Winnebago thing go?"

Eddie smirks at him, bopping his nose with his finger, "Never."

Steve rolls his eyes, but moves closer to deposit the flower crown he made on Eddie's head. The colorful flowers brighten up his whole face, making him look like an actual prince.

"My prince." Steve whispers as he kisses Eddie. It's a chaste kiss. Soft, wonderful, familiar; his husband's lips.

Steve has lived a life with his husband. It's not really Steve who wanted to settle down and retire in the cottage in the first place. It was Eddie.

When he finally got tired of the glitz and glam of Hollywood. Eddie wanted to run away, to somewhere quiet, to some place they could call their home. Steve found this little cottage for the two of them, because he wants to give Eddie everything. But most of all he wants to give him peace. He still writes a few songs. Because he's the most passionate about that. He usually sells it to some newer, younger singer.

"You want to blow your cake?" Eddie asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. Steve didn't even notice that Eddie was holding a small box.

"You know Dustin will be mad if he finds out, right?" Steve asks, as Eddie pulls out the cake from the box. He helps him though, as Eddie sticks a few candles on the homemade cake.

"Eh. What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Eddie winks at him from behind his glasses. He flickers the lighter open and lights the candles.

The wind gives them mercy for a tiny while. The candle fire sway with the wind but doesn't die.

"Come on, big boy. Make a wish."

Steve watches as Eddie holds up the cake in front of him. There's a message on it, written in messy cursive writing. It says, "Happy 60th Birthday, Steve!"

Steve has spent so many birthdays, waking up to this exact image. Eddie holding up a birthday cake and asking him to make a wish. And though, Eddie's older now, with a few more wrinkles and some white hairs, his eyes will always still be that same shade of brown, the same one Steve stared at and fell in love with as Eddie held a broken bottle against his neck. Steve swears he will never get tired of it.

Steve smiles and blows on his candles.

"What did you wish for, Stevie?" Eddie smiles at him, tender and fond and filled with love.

"If I say it, it won't come true." Steve answers, making Eddie roll his eyes.

"Fine."

From inside the cottage, they hear a familiar voice shouting, "Dad! Papa! I am here! I picked up Auntie Rob on the way over. Cause you know, she's always late."

Even from far away, they can hear the gasp of surprise Robin lets out. "Aurora Eunice Munson-Harrington! You really are your fathers daughter!"

There is a cacophony of laughter and giggling. It sounds just like home.

Eddie turns at him, standing up slowly as he offers his hand to Steve.

"Let's go?"

Steve takes it happily, "Let's go."

As he walks towards his home, he sighs in content.

Steve didn't wish for anything else, not when he has everything he has ever wanted. Instead, he whispers a soft gratitude to whatever Deity decided that he deserves this life.

Steve's just glad he decided to live past nineteen to see— to have— this life made just for him.

#i love birthdays #it makes me irrationally emotional #tw suicide thoughts #very light #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie hcs #steddie headcanon #daeheadcanons #dae writes

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witchersmistress · 1 year

Text

Rainstorms and hate sex

if you think this i going to b sweet and cute, you are asking the wrong girl. im in a wicked mood today.. so here so something dark.. darker than my normal standards

*trigger warnings* Blood, violence, physical fighting between the characters, some gore. did i already mention blood, cause there is a lot of it. hints at something darker, but nothing specific.

I do not own August Walker or anything to do with th MI6 movies!

Permisson not given to copy my work or use pieces of it as your own, i will haunt you till the end of your days if you do something like that.

last chance.. im warning you now.. its going to be dark in here...

Ok fine, but dont say i didnt warn you!! enjoy

I’m almost to my car when I hear someone say my name. I don’t turn. I’m too fucking tired of this drama to deal with more tonight. Hitting the button to unlock the Escalade, I hurry toward it, ducking my head against the rain. “Baby girl.” I don’t stop until his strong hand wraps around my upper arm, pulling me to a halt. I squeeze my eyes closed for a second, then turn back. August stands over me, silhouetted by the security light in front of the house and the rain slanting down in the glow. Then he steps closer. There’s something different about him, an intensity shimmering off him, that has my pulse pounding. I squeeze my hand into a fist, comforted by the weight of the weapon on my knuckles. “Why are you running from me?” I don’t answer. There is no answer. I know I’ll never get away, but I can’t stop trying.

He moves so fast, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in. Before I know what’s happening, his mouth crashes down on mine. I cry out against him. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, a rough claiming with no warning. His big hands move up to cradle my head, and his lips crush mine so hard our teeth collide. I respond instinctively, eagerly, as if I’ve been waiting for this all my life. I open for him, submitting to him with a trembling relief that fills me with each possessive stroke of his tongue. Everything in my body ignites, my toes curling, my body swaying toward his, and heat licking between my thighs.

I grip his arms, never wanting to let go. I want him to throw me down and fuck every bit of damage out of me. I want to open my legs and get the relief that only opening my skin has given me. My eyes flutter closed, and for a minute, I’m washed away by the hunger in his kiss, his need, his desire. The cold rain sliding down our faces cools the feverish heat that rises to my skin at his touch. And then my brain catches up to my body, and I remember the cost of letting sweep me away. I fight his grip, twisting and writhing until I wrench myself free. I shove backwards and swing before the lust has even cleared from his eyes. “How dare you?” I snarl at him. My rings crunch into his nose, and I feel something give. His eyelids flutter as he blinks rapidly, stumbling back a step.

“How dare you think you have the right to touch me?” I swing again, connecting with his mouth this time. The skin of his beautiful lips splits under my knuckles. I relish the sensation. I want him to hurt. “How dare you think you can kiss me?” This time, he ducks, grabbing my wrist. I go in with my left fist, sinking it into his ribs. He flinches, but he doesn’t release my right hand. He pried it open, wrenching the weapon from my hand and hurling it to the ground. It skitters across the wet pavement and slides to a stop against the curb. “How dare I kiss you?” he taunts. “You stuck my dick in your mouth not an hour ago.” “Don’t you ever touch me again,” I say, slamming my left fist into his cheek. “We are not on equal footing. You don’t get to question me. You don’t get to chase guys away from me and then go stick your dick in your fuck buddy. How fucking dare you think you can kiss me after that? That you can talk to me the way you talked to me in the hall at work?

That you have any say whatsoever in what I do with my life?” He just stands there holding my wrist, keeping me away as I writhe and kick at his shins. “I can talk to you any fucking way I want,” he snaps. “Because you’re still mine, Baby girl.” “Fuck you,” I scream, losing all control. “I’d rather you beat my face like you did Colt’s than ever kiss me again. So either do it, or let go of me and let me do it.” “Then do it,” he says. “Get it over with, because I’m sure as hell going to kiss you again.” His words lift me on a tide of pure, incinerating rage. He releases my hand, and I slam my fist into his face again. My knuckles slide against the blood, my blow muted by the swelling. I remember the way his blows sounded when he’d hit Colt so many times he wasn’t striking bone anymore.

I hit him again, and again, and again. Finally, tears and rain blur my vision, and I stumble back, trying to catch my breath, to get control. I don’t know how long I’ve been beating his face and neck and chest. His eyes are both blackening already, his eyebrow split and bleeding. Blood is pouring from his mouth and nose, down the front of his shirt, soaking it faster than the rain. I stare at him in horror, wondering where the hell I just was, if I became a monster like , out of my body, like someone else was acting in my place. Before I can say anything, he grabs me by the shoulders again and smashes his bloody mouth to mine. I cried out in shock, even though he warned me. When I twist my face away, he pulls back and grabs my necklace in his fist. “How dare you wear this fucking necklace and rub it in my face?” he growls, wrenching it from my neck. I stumble against him, but the clasp breaks, and he hurls the necklace across the road.

“I know what that fucking means. It means you’re spreading your legs for a Darling boy, just like my sister It was bad enough seeing it around her neck, and now I have to pretend I don’t see it around yours?” “How dare you tell me who I can spread my legs for?” I scream at him. “You didn’t give me that choice last spring, did you?” “How dare you send me videos of you fucking the man you know I hate more than anyone in this world?” he snaps back. “And that’s saying a lot, because the list is real fucking long.

You want to see me lose my fucking mind, Baby girl? Send me one more picture of that motherfucker, and I swear, you won’t like what happens next.” “Why do you even care who I fuck?” I snap. “An hour ago, you admitted that no one would ever want to touch me again. And that list includes you. So don’t tell me I can’t find whatever semblance of comfort I’m capable of with the only person you’ve destroyed more completely than me.” He stares at me, his eyes burning with rage. “Take off his jacket,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “Fuck you,” say, stomping to the car. August steps in front of me just before I reach it, and I catch the look in his eyes. My heart stops. I dart to the other side, ducking past him, but he spins and catches me around the waist from behind. He turns and throws me backwards, and I land hard on the hood of the car. I roll up, but he hops onto the bumper and plows onto me, slamming me down on my back. “I said, take off his fucking jacket,” he growls. I feel the metal dent under our weight, but I don’t care about the fucking car.

For a minute, we wrestle wordlessly as he drags the jacket over my arm. At last, I manage to roll over, but he uses the motion to peel the jacket off me and wrench it off my other arm. He throws it into the grass and flips me back onto my back, straddling my hips. “I hate you,” I rage at him, swinging a hand. My palm smacks across his cheek so hard it stings. “You’re a sick, rotten bastard, and I can’t believe I ever let you touch me.” “I hate you, too, you fucking bitch.” He grabs my chin and squeezes, his fingers cutting into my cheeks until my mouth is forced open. He leans down over me, works his jaw, and spits a long stream of warm blood into my mouth. I’m so shocked I swallow before I can help myself. Then I slap him again, my palm connecting with his crimson-streaked cheek and peppering my arms with flecks of his blood. I spit, trying to clear my mouth of his blood, and it sprays over his cheeks. He blinks it away and pins my hands, leaning down again. I think he’s going to spit on me, but instead, he swipes his tongue up my face, leaving a wide, wet track of saliva up my cheek, replacing the blood and tears and rain.

“I’m not just going to kiss you, baby,” he says. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to like it.” “Then you better fucking kill me first,” I snarl at him. “Because that’s the only way your dick is ever going inside me again.” “That can be arranged,” he says, sitting back. He stared down at my stomach, where my shirt rode up when we were wrestling, and his eyes widened. He transfers my wrists to one hand, pulling them above my head, and toys with the little hoop through my belly button. “What is this?” “It’s a piercing,” I say. “Preston gave it to me. He did it himself. And I fucking love it.” August’s finger hooks through it, and he rips it out. A spike of pain drives straight from my navel through my body to the car. I can’t even draw a breath to scream. I can feel hot blood pooling on my skin where he tore it. And it feels so fucking good. Each heartbeat is a throb of pain, and that’s all I feel. The rage is gone, the hurt, the confusion. He leans down, pressing his broken mouth to mine. I kiss him back hard, punishing his swollen lips with mine. I hear him unbuckling his belt, and I reach down, shoving his pants down, needing him in a way I don’t understand, needing the pain to obliterate everything else that I don’t want to feel right now. He lowers himself onto me, and I can feel the same desire in him. His cock is hot and stiff against my belly, throbbing against the torn flesh of my navel.

“You want to tell me again that no man can want you?” he says, his voice rough against my mouth, his cock sliding in my blood. “What’s the point in fucking me?” I snap. “You can’t even finish when two girls are sucking your dick at once. You’re not a closer, August. You choke.” “Oh, I’m going to fucking finish this time,” he says, shoving my jeans down over my hips. “Trust me, baby. I’m going to cum so deep inside you that you can’t remember anything but the way my cock owns every inch of you, inside and out. You’re fucking mine, Baby girl. It never ends. You’re right about that.” The rain beats down harder, hammering against the metal around us, drowning out a chance at a reply. He lifts his hand to his mouth, spitting a pool of blood and saliva into his palm, and then sinks it between my thighs. His slick fingers open me, skillfully stroking my center, sending a rush of longing through me. “Then shut up and do it,” I yell at him over the sound of the rain on the car, the sound of the hood denting under us, the thunder rumbling and the trees howling in the wind. “Or are you so fucked up you can’t even cum for me anymore?” He buries a finger deep inside me, and I gasp and arch up, trying to open my legs, which are bound by my wet jeans. “Shut that pretty mouth or I’ll fuck it right this time,” he growls back at me, leaning down to press his warm mouth against my ear. “You don’t call the shots anymore.” He pulls back and watches me as his fingers slick into me quick and hard, his breath coming fast.

Rain and his blood drips from his chin, and his eyes are alive and burning with lust. I’m shaking all over, my body hot and cold, thrilled and terrified, as if I’ve jumped from a plane with no parachute. This is how it ends. I need more, before it’s over. I can feel it cresting, something inside me, some monster roaring to erupt. A sheet of rain slams into his back, splattering over my face. He leans over me again, blood dripping from his mouth to mine. I yank his head down, lifting my face to his, sinking my teeth into his lower lip. His blood blooms across my tongue, thick and salty like cum. He shifts onto me again, wetting his cock in the blood pooling on my stomach before moving lower, smearing the thick head of it through my wetness. “Fuck me,” I breathe, my voice shaking. He thrusts up into me, and my blood turns to hot, shimmering electricity. A sound rises in me, climbing like the thunder rolling across the sky, a primal, animal scream that spirals up from my very soul. He pushes deeper, his thick, bloody cock stretching me and sending coils of pleasure spreading out through my body. When he fills my core, the raw, visceral sensation is too much. I can’t hold back, can’t bear to feel this good again, can’t contain it. It’s too real.

I open my mouth, and he presses his mouth down on mine, catching the sound that escapes, swallowing it. I can feel myself disappearing into him as I scream. Something shifts inside me, and the urgency fades, the way it did when I cut myself. I can feel the hood denting and rising with each thrust as he pumps into me, his cock slick with my blood, and his blood, and his spit, and my own wetness. His muscles are tight, shaking, and his mouth is on my cheek. His body is hard and hot on mine, but I feel it in a different way, a detached way. I know I made a mistake, that this is a mistake, but I can’t find the words that stop it, that reverse time and undo this terrible thing we’ve done.

This is August. The man who told his brothers they could have me, they could do whatever sick things they had wanted to do to me all along. He let them hurt me. He turned away when I begged for mercy. He made it known that his protection ended that day. I hate him. I want him dead. But I told him to do this. I opened my legs and invited the monster in, even after it ate my soul the last time. What is wrong with me? It’s okay, though. It won’t last forever. It’ll be over soon. It’s okay. I keep telling myself until it’s true. I’m not being hurt.

I can hardly feel him moving inside me anymore, into the deepest places. There’s a vague pleasantness in it, like having a day off to do absolutely nothing. The heavy, wet air around us and the slick metal under my back fade away, replaced by luxurious, smooth sheets and a room with cold AC, the air dry and crisp and clean. I’m safe. I’m safe because this is all he wants, and he can’t take anything more. I know, because this has happened before. There’s nothing else to give. This is the end of the line, the last thing, and I’ve given it all up. Now I can relax and know that I don’t have to fight. I submit, give over everything, like I did in the loft with Preston. And it’s okay. “Baby girl.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze of my thoughts, the veil of safety protecting me. His fingers cut into my cheeks again, the pain jerking me back. My eyes fly open. I try not to move, to let this be okay, to let this be part of the submission. If I can submit to everything he’s done before, I can submit to pain. “Baby girl.” His voice is gentler now, but just as commanding. His grip on my chin loosens, but he doesn’t release me. He slides two fingers into my mouth, the ones that were inside me.

They taste like pussy and blood, mine and his. “Stay with me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here. Look in my eyes. Don’t go away.” He starts to move inside me again, holding my chin so I can’t look away, his fingers on my tongue forcing my presence. I close my lips, taste our combined flavor, and heat pulses in my core. I can feel him inside me, so big, his cock straining against my walls, reclaiming the very depths of me, where it aches in my core. The dominating rhythm of his thrusts owns me, forces my response. God, it feels good, too good, oh god, I can’t— I pull back from it, but I don’t close my eyes. I’ll let him see that I’m there, the way I used to with Mav, where it was something satisfying but I wasn’t part of it. I’ll let him have me here while he cums, but I can’t join him.

The last time— He yanks his hand back, and his palm cracks across my cheek. The shocking sting of it shoots straight down my body to the center of my being. I’m suddenly thrust into my body with such brutal, physical presence that it hurts. My core clamps down so hard he sucks in an audible breath, his fingers gripping the top of the hood as he responds with a vicious thrust. He grabs my hip with his other hand, pinning me there with a bruising grip as he grinds into me. He leans down, his eyes deep and commanding, blood darkening half his face. “Cum for me, my little slut.” He drives his cock so deep into me I almost choke. I cry out, trying to slip away, to get away, but he slaps me again, this time on the other cheek. And he’s inside me, taking me, delivering me, wrecking every inch of me. He pounds into me relentlessly, offering no respite, no escape.

His cock is bare and thick and slick, and it hurts, and it feels so fucking good I can’t bear it. And I want it all. I want him to consume me, to drown me, to possess me like the demon he is. “August,” I gasp, pushing at his shoulders, needing him off, I can’t bear it. “Cum,” he growls again, his powerful hips thrusting his cock into the center of my core, hitting somewhere inside me that’s so deep, so painful and raw that I can’t hold back. I cry out again, arching up, my body clamping down hard around him for a second time. This time, he’s the one who makes a choking sound, his cock throbbing thick inside me. The sensation sends me over the edge, and I can’t pull back in time. This thing that’s been fighting to get out, this monster inside me, erupts. I feel it tearing free, raging like the storm around us, the rain slamming against us, the trees tossing like agony in the wind. As it takes me over, I cry out August’s name, my nails biting into his skin, my body finally giving in, submitting to his dominance, his claim. I’m helpless to stop it.

I am his.

I cum. I’m crying and raging, I’m filled with hatred and helplessness and relief, and I’m still coming so hard I can’t stop myself. I don’t know what’s happening, why it won’t end. I think I’m saying something, but it’s swallowed by the storm, and he’s over me, watching me. His hot cum floods into me, spreading inside me like a virus that’s taken me over, racing through my bloodstream until he’s part of every breath, every cell of my being. Because I’m not just his. He is mine. When I finally start to come down, I’m shaking uncontrollably. I want to take it all back. It’s too much, and I can’t deal with it. Because the thing that just broke free inside me, that’s been howling and clawing and tearing me apart from within, fighting to escape, isn’t a monster.

It’s me.

August’s hands are on my face, cradling it gently even as his cock remains painfully deep inside me, and his lips skim mine, still slick with blood. When my eyes meet his, I see everything in him, his rage and regret, his darkness and brokenness, his destructiveness and vulnerability. For a second, I can’t breathe, can’t move or speak, too crushed by the weight of the burden he carries by his very existence to react. And then he speaks. “Thank you,” he whispers, his breath warm on my wet skin.

In that one breath, one heartbeat, the space between heartbeats where life is measured and decided, I’m weightless. I’m lost and I’m found, I’m destroyed and renewed, I’m insignificant and infinite. I am his, and I am free. And then I suck in a breath, and I’m here, with his blood in my mouth and my blood slick between our bodies, the metal under my back, the rain on my skin. My cunt flutters around him, the helpless spasms of orgasm still racing through me, shivering along my limbs and up through my head, making me dizzy with power and bliss.

August leans on his elbows, sinking his head down against my neck, his hot breath damp in the wet chill of the night. “Baby girl,” he says, his voice barely more than a breath. “Shhh.” We lay there for a long time, my body still clenched around him like a cramp. It takes a while for me to relax, for my heartbeat to return to normal. Headlights wash over us, but August just covers me with his body, hiding my face with his broad shoulders. The car honks and drives off, and that’s when reality really comes back. I push August up.

He slides out of me, and a rush of his hot cum slides out with his cock. I wince as I sit up, revisiting the familiar but almost-forgotten soreness that comes from an August Walker pounding. I slide off the hood and catch my balance on the side of the car, struggling to pull up my wet jeans. Tears stream down my face, and I’m grateful that the rain covers them. I can feel his warm cum sliding down my cold thighs like tears of shame. I didn’t think it was possible to hate myself any more than I already did, but somehow, August makes it possible.

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henrycavilledit #august walker fanfic #august walker x reader #august walker imagines #enemys to lovers #henry cavill gifs

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sashi-ya · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 ♡ 𝘬𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘬𝘪 𝘣𝘺𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘺𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⟡tw: angsty. but sweet. byakuya gets drunk, and you help him feel weightless for some time. I felt the sudden need to write this imagine, I know I should be working on my pending fics but I just couldn't, Byakuya is really relatable to me, so yeah. Hope you enjoy. I'm sorry for writing so angsty latetly, december makes me feel this way. ⟡wc: 930 ⟡this fic sounds like: øneheart x reidenshi - snowfall (slowed)

He can’t stand still; his world seems to be spinning around. The soft hands of a noble gripping from the expensive surfaces of his furniture.

Pale cheeks that now are tinted in red, and also the tip of his nose and ears. He stumbles, trying to be as silent as possible not to wake everybody up, even if the dawn is already caressing the immnese lands of the Soul Society.

What has he been doing? There is no way a person like him could have succumbed to the deadliest elixir of disinhibition called sake. But he has. And now, dragging his drunken body inside, he only hopes to reach for his ancestors’ altar. Ancestors and Hisana’s.

He feels like clouds fogging his eyes, and he isn’t sure if those are tears or just the rain that poured on him while coming home.

Byakuya lets his weight be carried by his arms resting over the wooden table, where the picture frames are always caressed by the smoke of incense.

“Hello… Hisana… am I- Am I a good brother to her? Did you hear? Rukia is gonna marry already… little Rukia…” he sloppily says, crying but smiling at the same time. The noble doesn’t understand whether he is sad or happy or both at the same time. “I just hope you were here… I’m just a man, you know?” he painfully adds.

His body feels like floating; his legs can barely stand, and he isn’t really interested in holding his position any longer. He only wants to rest; he only wants to lie in peace. Just for tonight, just for some hours.

“I’m just a man…” he repeats.

A loud stump could be heard all around. Those on guard never even close their eyes, because Byakuya Kuchiki wouldn’t stand an officer that doesn’t perfectly fulfil their duties.

And you, the one that has always been there to take care of him, hear him. How could you not run to his help? Is he ok? Is someone attacking the Kuchiki manor?

“Captain!” you gasp, watching the miserable image of a man that rarely smiles, doing it while lying on the floor. He is soaking wet. It has been raining outside. “Are you ok, Captain Kuchiki?” you ask again, crunching by his side.

“Hi… can you stay here for a moment?” he asks, making the Shinigami by his side to gasp. He has been drinking, he smells like alcohol… when did Byakuya ever drink?

You nod, of course you would stay there for a moment and for eternity too if he asked you to. And Byakuya smiles. He crawls, with difficulty to your lap, leaving you speechless and allowing him to do whatever he wants with you.

Byakuya’s head rests on your legs, and he closes his eyes. A vulnerable moment nobody has ever probably seen, and that nobody will… but you. His hands squeeze your clothes, like clenching to hope, or maybe just some safety. Because he feels nothing but safe, he is afraid, everything gets heavier over his shoulders… and even so, he knows that in a couple of hours he should be standing up, perfect and serious to face a new day.

But from now and until this moment lasts, is your scent, your embrace, your soul… the warmth of your hand over his forehead, over his cheek, grazing with love and understanding his soft, pale skin.

“It’s ok to cry, Byakuya-sama. It’s ok to rest. It’s ok to ask for help” you whisper, moving his black strands of hair out of his face and tucking them behind his ear. “You don’t always have to be the one holding the world’s weight over your shoulders, just for tonight… let me hold it for you”

And he stays there, for some minutes and maybe an hour too. He rests peacefully, the sound of his calmed breathing lulls you to sleep too. However, you wake up every other minutes. Byakuya mumbles something, perhaps he is dreaming of a better day ahead.

“You shouldn’t sleep on the floor, Byakuya-sama…” you whisper; it’s painful to see him that way. With difficulty, but utmost care, you lift him up. He is a thin man, but he is strong and well trained, his muscles are lean and so the weight of his body is heavy to you.

He barely opens the eyes that you love the most, dark blue orbs that shine like the moon does over the pond. “Come on…” you struggle carrying him to his room.

“Here we are, your comfortable bed…” you mumble, looking around at the white and pure decoration of his space.

His chin rests on your shoulder, and his frowning intensifies from time to time. What a perfect depiction of masculinity and weakness at the same time. His beautiful profile making you weaker, his proximity… his lips so close to yours…

You make your last effort; a single swing and he will be safe on his bed. “There you go, Byakuya- sam-“ you whisper as you try to deposit his presumably asleep self… but, he snatches your waist and both fall to the bed.

Your palms and chest on his, your lips as close as his lips. Your widen eyes, his sloppy smile forming. He smells like sake, but he does smell like the love of your life too. You take a moment to enjoy being trapped by his drunk arms, but even if you wanted to go away you couldn’t. His palm presses your head against his chest. Once again, he is the one protecting others…

“thank you- so much…please, stay” “I will never walk away, you are like a midnight sun”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♡

#byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #kuchiki byakuya x you #byakuya #kuchiki byakuya imagine #byakuya kuchiki #bleach #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #sashi ya #byakuya smut #bleach x reader

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97-liners · 2 years

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werewolf!scoups x vampire!reader

words: 1k

just domestic fluff

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

You hear Seungcheol coming from halfway down the street, but then again, it’s not like he’s trying to be stealthy. And, you were listening for his return anyway. Full moons always make you anxious for no good reason. Maybe it’s that creature part of your brain kicking into over-gear.

Sighing, you sink down deeper into your bath until the lavender scented foam reaches your chin, and you reach out to take the bag full of blood resting on the bath caddy. The water is so hot, the bathroom fills with steam, but running a hot bath always makes you feel better after drinking refrigerated blood. You partially submerge the bag in your hands in the water, careful not to let the bubbles reach the opening where you’ve stuck your straw. Maybe you can warm it up enough that it feels like the real thing.

(After catching you shivering under an electric blanket while feeding out of bagged blood, Seungcheol had bought you a bottle warmer, the kind people use to heat up baby formula. You never use it. Reheating blood gives it a strange aftertaste that you can’t stand, you told him. I just don’t like to see you cold, was his response.)

Seungcheol is outside the house now. He’s still shifted— you can hear the soft crunch of grass under paws and the tap-tap-tap-tap of claws on pavement. There’s a brief shuffling noise as he pushes at the door handle with his snout, but you had left the door unlocked for him earlier so he could get in without shifting back to his human form out on the street. A second later, the door swings open, and then shut. He remembered to close the door, you think with some satisfaction.

(“Alone in the house all night with the doors unlocked?” Seungcheol’s brows furrow in concern when you offhandedly mention it for the first time. “No. Please lock the doors. It’s not safe.”

You turn toward him, putting your book down for a moment. “Cheol, please think. Not safe for who?”

“What if someone breaks in,” he frowns, seemingly not absorbing a single word you said. “What if someone’s watching and knows that you’re home alone and tries to take advantage of that?”

You grin at him, baring your fangs. “Then they’ll be met with an unpleasant surprise,” you laugh, “and I’ll have some fresh food for once.”)

You hear the clicking of paws turn into the soft padding of feet about halfway up the stairs. His scent is always stronger this time of the month, like freshly cut wood and petrichor and bitter oranges, heat under his skin, rushing through his veins. Seungcheol opens the door and looks into the bathroom, golden eyes sweeping until they make contact with your own peeking over the endless bubbles of your bath.

“Hi,” he grins, “relaxing tonight?”

You wordlessly raise up your half-drained bag of blood, and Seungcheol nods in understanding.

“Ah. Do you want to drink from me?”

It’s a tempting offer. He’s still flushed and sweaty and he smells so good, you feel yourself starting to salivate at the thought. “Not now,” you decide. Then, your eyes narrow at him as he steps fully into the bathroom, naked. “Seungcheol! You’re filthy!”

There’s dirt smeared across his body and a stray leaf is still stuck in his hair. He at least has the decency to look ashamed. You can almost picture his wolf ears flattening against his head. “Sorry, the pack got kind of carried away,” he runs his fingers through his hair, freeing the leaf and a few blades of grass, “and I think I might have buried a rabbit carcass at some point.”

“That’s disgusting.” You wrinkle your nose. “You smell like wet dog,” you declare, putting the blood bag back into your bath caddy and pushing everything to the side. “Come join me.”

He grins. It’s almost as if this was his goal all along.

The water sloshes against the sides of the tub as Seungcheol carefully clambers in, wincing a bit at the temperature of the bath. “Ow,” he whines. A little bit of water spills over the side, but you’re quick to pull the plug and let some water drain before the whole bathroom becomes a mess.

“I like to overcompensate,” you argue in response to his whine. “You try having no body heat. See how you like that.”

When Seungcheol is fully in the bath, you dip the washcloth into the water and start scrubbing gently at his broad back, watching the fine dirt dissolve under your fingertips. “Did you have a good run?”

“Mmh,” he hums and tilts his head. “Always good to stretch my limbs and get out there.”

You scratch lightly at the back of his neck and he groans, a low rumble in his chest. “Who’s a good boy,” you grin, laughing when he makes a small embarrassed noise in protest. Seungcheol pouts at you.

“You sure you don’t want a little sip? It’s the full moon,” he adds on, unhelpfully. “You could even drain me if you want.”

“I won’t drain you. Maybe just a little snack later, though.” You press a light kiss against his shoulder. “Just admit that the moon makes you horny, Cheol.”

Seungcheol laughs, and you shove him lightly. “Huh,” he stretches his arms over his head, flexing his muscles. “Is it time for a shower?”

You grin at him. “You go shower first. I still have to clean up the bathtub from all your dirt.”

“I’ll see you in a sec, then,” he turns toward you as he rises, splashing water everywhere. You smile at him, the sharp, pointy kind of smile that you rarely ever show. It’s a razor-tipped smile. One that reminds him, you’re dangerous, an apex predator.

(But then again, so is he.)

#not tagging!!#really just something to get me writing again because i have not written a single thing since the start of may #97.yn #97.writings #97.drabbles #wolf au

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disembowel-me · 2 years

Text

DILF!Ren comes home from a business trip and shows some love to the reader, but not in the way they were hoping.

Contains biting, clawing, crotch-kicking and shoe grinding, choking, the beginning of a blow job, and loving praise from Ren the entire time. Gender neutral reader and highly dubious consent

Commissioned by @6robotmonster6 - thank you so much again!!!

“Honey, are you here?” Ren’s voice calls out from somewhere in the hallway. It’s light and warm, with just the slightest raspy undertone that has come with age.

“I’m here!” You answer back, just a moment before the bedroom door swings wide open. As soon as he lays eyes on you, his ears perk up and he smiles wide. He hurries over to where you’re sitting on the bed and you embrace, sharing a peck on the lips.

His smile turns wry as he presses his face into your neck. “Oh, I’ve missed you,” he purrs against your skin. “You smell so good every time I come home.” His fur tickles you as he leans in, notching one knee between your legs. Lithe fingers drift along the skin of your arm and he nuzzles your bare shoulder with his nose, breathing in your scent deeply. “You smell…” His breath grows heavier by the second. “Delicious.”

Instinctively, you tense when he bares his teeth against your shoulder and the points of his fangs just barely prick your skin. You try to consciously relax your shoulders; it hurts so much more when you’re tensed up. He knows this, and gives you a moment to overcome your reflex before his teeth sink into you and crunch through your flesh. The cry that’s pulled from you is instinct, too.

He relents and softly sucks the bite, flicking his tongue over the punctures. You moan; he moans in response. “You taste delicious.”

As he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes gleam with adoration and hunger, trailing their way down your body slowly. Drinking you in. “I was thinking about you all week.

He’s always like this when he’s been away on a business trip too long. Immediately overbearing and affectionately agitated. Sometimes he puts up the pretense of sweetly greeting you, settling back in, and even bringing his luggage inside before allowing that hunger to overtake him and pouncing on you.

But tonight, he seemingly can’t wait. He’d barely stepped through the door and thrown his coat off before he was on top of you.

“On Thursday we shipped someone that looked almost exactly like you. I was,” he swallows quickly and runs his fingers through his hair, “so tempted to keep them for myself.” He grins at you. “But I knew it wouldn’t be the same. Nobody could ever replace you.”

He’s on your shoulder again, sucking the bite wound in earnest. The sharp pressure shocks you; you whimper and jerk but his hands are already around your wrists holding you in place. He sucks so hard your muscles ache; it’s as if he’s trying to slurp them up out of your skin. Right before it becomes too much, he moves to the stretch of skin next to it, peppering the apex of your shoulder with kisses and gentle nipping love-bites.

The next warning you get is too little, too late. All you get is an extra firm prodding from his tongue against your skin and his grip tightening on your wrists a moment before his sharp teeth swiftly pierce you, slightly offset from and deeper than the first bite. It’s burning hot, bright white, rippling out to the rest of the inflamed skin and muscle around it. You can��t help yourself from screaming and squirming in his grasp.

He growls in approval deep in his throat; you can feel him smiling around his teeth still sunk deep in you. A single drop feels cold as it drips down the back of your shoulder. You aren’t sure if it’s blood or spit.

Then he slurps up the blood pooling in his mouth and gives the bite a gentle suck. As soon as his teeth leave your flesh, the wound begins to throb in time with your heartbeat, dribbling fluids, pulsing feverishly.

“Nobody else smells like you. Nobody else screams like you.” He’s panting openly, licking your blood off his lips. Something shines wild and ravenous in his eyes. Hungry for more of you. Hungry for more of your blood and tears.

But instead of going back in for more, he pulls away from you and steps away from the bed, swallowing thickly. His eyes narrow and flick away to the floor, then back to you as he loosens his tie. A moment passes between you; you’re leaning forward in anticipation and he almost looks out of breath.

“Get on the floor,” he says finally, and you can’t disobey. Your body follows his command onto your knees in front of him, where your head is about level with his hips. He wastes no time shoving himself against your face, one hand buried in your hair and the other cradling your jaw as he grinds on you, warm and already hard.

“Spread your legs for me,” he breathes, gently tapping the inside of your leg above your knee with the steel toe of his dark polished dress shoes. “A little more. That's it, that’s good…”

Suddenly he whips back and delivers a swift, open-palmed slap to your face.

Shock makes you want to burst into tears. The entire side of your face burns like it’s on fire. Raising a shaky hand to your cheek, you can feel raised lines where he’s just scratched you along with the blow.

When you look up at him, he’s beaming. Beaming with that familiar dangerous look in his eyes.

You start shivering in fear.

“Ren, please…” You plead softly, moving your hands back to his pants and touching his bulge, biting your lip and trying to give him a suitably pathetic but sexy look. “Just-” You struggle against the rising lump in your throat. You missed him; you want his attention, but not like this. “Please, just let me take care of you…”

He stares at you for a moment, then barks out a laugh, short and loud, and your stomach tightens. “Aww… You’re so cute!” He leans down, leering at you. “You’re not the one who takes care of me. Are you?”

“...N-no…”

“No…” He coos, followed by a long groan as his foot finds its way between your legs again and bumps against your most sensitive spot. “No, I take care of you.”

Your eyes stay trained on his but you can’t help but tremble as the bumping of his shoe becomes a gentle kick. The corner of his mouth twitches just before he delivers a firm blow at full force to the same spot. You almost double over but he catches a tight fistful of your hair and holds you up by it, forcing you to look up at him.

His face is flushed; eyes heavy and narrowed in lust and love. “I love this. I love you. I love you so much,” he murmurs above you, loosening his vice grip and combing his hand gently through your hair and against your scalp. “You’re so good for me. Yeah… You’re so good. You like this too, don’t you?”

You only whine and nuzzle against his hand. He’s not going to let you talk your way out of the pain this time.

“You take it so well… So well…” His caring tone is at odds with the sadistic glee that flashes over his face right before he kicks your groin again. It knocks the wind out of you and this time he watches you collapse to the floor in pain.

Then he kicks your legs open, snatches up one of your legs, and plants one pristine shoe firmly down on your crotch. Claws poke your bare calf as he jerks your leg up along his body’s length, yanking your pelvis against his shoe’s sole and grinding it against you.

The look on his face is terrifying. He’s smiling, but it’s wide and vicious. Already satisfied, but still so very hungry.

“I was thinking about you every day. Thinking about this.” Ren punctuates the word by stomping on you again, sending a shock through your hips and up your spine. His hand is clutched tightly around your ankle, so tight his knuckles are turning white and his nails dig into your flesh. He drags his other hand along the outside of your calf, slowly drawing razor-thin red lines in you. They’re so thin it takes a moment for blood to well up into little red beads on your skin, and another moment for the burn to manifest. They’re almost like a cat scratch. It doesn’t hurt too badly now but it’ll probably hurt like a bitch later.

You lock eyes and can tell he’s thinking the same thing. Right as you open your mouth to say something, he goes in again, raking his claws along the outer part of your thigh.

This time you shriek. The pain and blood is instant as your flesh splits around each claw. Blood spills down your leg as tears sting your eyes, filling up and falling in fat, round drops. When he pulls his hand back to his mouth, the long whites of his nails are stained brightly with red. His tongue flicks out of his lips and licks them clean.

He stares down at you crying for a long moment, then sighs contentedly and lets your leg fall to the floor, stepping over you and sitting down on top of your waist. “It’s been too long, my love.” He leans in close and caresses your cheek, wiping away the tears that roll down your face. “You’re… so pretty. I’m the luckiest man in the world, that I get to see you like this.” His voice is rougher, huskier than it was when he first got home, but still dripping in affection. Delicate, slender fingers wrap around your neck above your collar and press hard. “Nobody else does. You’re mine.”

“I’m… yours,” you echo, voice strained from the sob growing in your throat and his grasp around it.

He growls again, thrusting himself against your body. His stranglehold only tightens and you start to go lightheaded, the edge of the metal collar digging into your clavicle. “Ffffuck,” he hisses, rocking his hips back and forth, pressing even harder, hands digging into the soft underside of your jaw and grinding against the harder structures contained inside your throat. It hurts.

“Pl…ease… Re- en…” You squeak out a barely audible cry. He’s not letting up. The room starts to spin and your eyes roll back as a painful yet euphoric lightheadedness overcomes you. There’s sudden sharp pain somewhere by where he’s squeezing, but it’s so far away that you barely register it. Even Ren himself seems far away…

Right as the room starts to go dark, the pressure disappears and you’re free to draw in a massive, desperate gasp of sweet air. It’s so sweet that for a moment you feel lightheaded again; you relish the next breath you take even more. It isn't until you’ve taken several normal breaths that you realize all of the pressure from Ren is gone; he’s carefully climbing off you and moving to stand up, pausing to grimace for a moment when something in his knee pops.

Your neck hurts. Your hand is wet when you feel it; the salty sweat of your fingertips sting the apparent scratches there. He must have drawn even more blood. Sure enough, the tips of your fingers are stained red.

When you look up again, he’s eased himself down on the bed and already unbuckled his belt.

“Do you still want this?” He gestures to his open pants, the curve of his erection just barely visible under black, lace-lined silk boyshorts. “Come here.”

“Yea- yes!” Almost feverishly, you nod and scramble to get up, but the room is still spinning. You’re still reeling, and your arms tremble and almost collapse under you as you crawl toward him, but you reach him, stopping only when your head runs into his hand. His claws rake against your scalp through your hair, sending shivers down your spine, holding your head close.

“Sit,” he commands.

Your bottom lip quivers and cheeks burn. But you sit in front of him, planting your ass down on the floor, ever-so-slightly opening your mouth and pushing your tongue against your lips to show your eagerness. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, pulling it out of his underwear, holding it out right in front of you.

The slit of his dick glistens as it leaks precum, tantalizing you. Taunting you.

The hand in your hair is now stroking down your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, then along your lips, brushing your blood across them, coaxing them open more. You crane your neck and scoot closer and finally, finally, your tongue touches the soft, smooth underside of his cock’s head, a split-second before sealing your mouth around him.

Immediately, you’re rewarded with a low groan and the sight of his eyelids shuddering briefly. You lick him again, and again; you suck harder and spit starts filling your mouth. You ease your lips down his shaft gently, then back up, then back down, preparing to lose yourself to the rhythm-

Until he pulls himself out of you with a pop. You whine, confused, and look up at him with your mouth still wide open and drooling. He answers by slapping it wetly against your eye and cheek.

A sly smirk creeps onto his face as another clear drop beads up on the tip of his cock. He sticks his leg out between your legs and taps your heat with his shoe’s hard steel tip again.

“Show me how badly you want it.”

#ren hana #dilf ren hana #tpof announcer #the price of flesh #btd2 #boyfriend to death 2 #the price of flesh spoilers #tpof spoilers #my heart is beating so hard i havent felt like this posting a fic in so long #nervous and excited #thank you so much for giving me this opportunity i hope you like it <3 #if theres typos ill have to fix them in a week or so ive looked at this so many times my eyes just glaze over everything #my writing

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chvnnie · 2 years

Text

Skyway Avenue

lee felix x reader

part 3/8 - come on fuck me emo boy. find the playlist here

word count: 3.5k

genre: smut, but mostly just fluff. MINORS DNI

warnings: strangers to lovers, mention of minor injuries and blood, mentions of past life love/soulmates, kind sub!felix, sex in a public place (but there’s no one else around), protected sex, soft dirty talk, very soft, short sex scene, use of pet name: good boy. that’s honestly it. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: who knew a skateboard crash could make felix feel so alive?

a/n: me and @lix-ables? posting soft lixie on the same day? wow bestie behavior. anyway, i went a lil hard on this one, so sorry that it’s a bit longer than part one or two. i really needed the fluff, ok. i really hope you’re enjoying the series so far <3 pls reblog/send feedback to let me know how you’re feeling about it!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents lee felix as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @fthan, @chaitae-bae, @cloudyybinin, @lix001, @dnadoublefelixx, @cyder-puff, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @metalchick529, @stranger-thighs - please send ask/comment to be added

Gravel crunched under the wheels of Felix’s skateboard, the grinding noise soothing his overwhelmed brain. It reminded him that he was moving, that he was alive and breathing, and getting away.

When it came to fight or flight, Felix tended to lean towards the former. He’s usually a very passive person, not quick to anger or to confront others, but when his brain goes into panic, he doesn't go down without a fight. Which was why tonight was so weird - the urge to fight was gone. The urge to run was strong.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been gone. He wasn’t even quite sure where he was. Abandoned buildings greeting him in blurs, ghosts of memories hollowing out of their broken windows. It was eerily comforting, the chills the buildings gave him. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel so alone.

A yellow street light glowed in the distance, urging him to keep going. He really needed to figure out where he was though. As he inched closer, he saw the light hung over a bench. A bus stop. Felix would get there, then he would figure out his next move. He just had to get there-

He saw the crack in the sidewalk a second too late.

Felix flew off the board, hands out to stop his head from colliding with the concrete. They only helped a bit; palms and knees colliding with the broken sidewalk and rubbing them raw. His head didn’t quite slam, but it did hit the ground, leaving him with a large scratch underneath his right eye.

A whiny groan built up in his throat, the sound getting lost in the sidewalk crack. Felix put his head down, willing his tears not to fall. It had been so nice. He left. He got to be with his thoughts. Then he stupidly stopped paying attention, and the rips in his jeans would serve as a constant reminder of this awful evening that apparently, is only getting worse.

The gravel crunched again, only softer this time, as if someone was walking on it. He should be more concerned about the possibility that it’s well past 10:00 PM and he wasn’t alone in this abandoned industrial parking lot, but Felix couldn’t find it in him to care. The pain, both physical and emotional, was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore. No matter what this person, or ghost, wanted with him, Felix would go along with it. He just didn’t care anymore.

“I know you didn’t fall hard enough to knock yourself unconscious.” Felix turned his head to the left, nose bumping into a pair of stained white converse. “Do you want some help? Or are you content with laying face down on a dirty sidewalk?”

He pressed his palms on the ground, hissing at the stinging pain in his hands, and pushed himself up. “I’m good. Tha-“ His mouth was suddenly dry, the last syllable of his words disappearing in thin air as he made eye contact with you.

You were squatting next to him, face cold as stone but eyes burning with concern. The two of you were dressed similar; ripped jeans and denim jackets, your exposed knees showing off scrapes that Felix was fairly certain matched the ones on his. Your hair was pushed over one shoulder, blowing slightly in the chilly breeze. The hair, plus the yellow glow of the street light, framed your face in a way that made you look angel. Otherworldly.

Which, you very well could be, seeing as you appeared out of nowhere.

Felix pushed himself up into a seated position. He groaned and pulled his skinned knees up to his chest to inspect the damage. “Where did you come from? I thought I was alone.”

You nodded your head in the direction of the bus stop. “I was over there when you ate it. Decided to come over and make sure I didn’t have to call the police to report a dead bod- holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

Felix looked at his knees. A little red, but dry. His palms were the same, if not slightly more bruised. He shot you a confused look, head cocking to the left as he tried to figure out where you saw blood.

“Your face.” You said, pulling your backpack. “Did you hit your face when you fell?”

You pulled a water bottle and a pack of tissues out of your bag, wetting the thin towels before pressing it to his face. He hissed at the contact, body tempted to jerk away from the tissue.

But then he felt your skin against his, the brief touch sending shivers down his spine and unconsciously moving his body forward. Closer to you.

You, the stranger who was now on your knees, face close to his as you carefully cleaned up the blood sliding down his cheeks.

“Where were you going, anyway?” You got rid of the stained tissue and replaced it with a clean one. “There’s nothing past that bus stop - you would’ve gotten lost in the woods.”

Your face was close to his again, the smell of rainwater and cotton filling his nostrils the closer you got. Where had he been going? Did Felix even know? Everything before you was starting to blur, the memories of today so out of reach that they were no longer painful.

“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully. “I just needed to… go.”

You pulled your hand back from his face, softly smiling at him before you began to rummage through your bag again. “I get it.” You said while pulling a bandage out.

When you flipped the bandage over, revealing the pattern printed on it, Felix’s laugh echoed off the abandoned buildings surrounding the two of you.

“Dinosaurs?” He said through huffed breaths, hand coming to his stomach to try and stop the cramps.

“What’s wrong with dinosaur bandaids?” You asked defensively, grin widening as you resisted laughing with him. “Dinosaurs don’t make you feel better? Maybe I should've left you, and then you wouldn’t have a dino bandaid.”

“No, please.” He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your wrist, suddenly scared to be alone. “Dinosaurs do make me feel better. Please, put it on.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh finally leaving your lips as you brought the bandage up to his face. Was Felix crazy, or were you closer to him than before? He swore your knees weren’t bumping together like this earlier.

“There.” You said, patting the edges of the bandaid down. “All fixed.”

“Thanks.”

You nodded, slowly moving out of his space and onto your bottom to sit. He watched as you turned your head to the left, head lazily resting on your own shoulders as you started at the building the two of you sat in front of. The old brick building had ivy growing up the front, lacing in and out of broken windows, giving it both a charming and unsettling front.

“You picked a good place to run off to.” You said, bringing Felix’s attention from the building back to you. “It’s quiet. Nobody bothers you here.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The question felt invasive, something he shouldn’t be asking someone he met literally five minutes ago. But something made Felix feel like this wasn’t your first time meeting. Like you had always been there, waiting for him to show up.

You hummed, running your fingers through your hair as you continued to study the building. “It’s easy to think here, ya know? It’s easy to be yourself here.”

It’s easy to be yourself here.

Maybe this cracked sidewalk was where Felix was meant to be all along.

“I want to go in.” Felix said mostly to himself, but still had pulled your attention back to him. “Something about the building seems so…inviting.”

You smiled at him, eyes dancing with a mischief that both terrified and excited him. Standing to your full height, you held a hand out to him. He also envied you, so willing to run into an empty building in a shady area with a person you just met. Maybe that’s why he grabbed your hand. Maybe that’s why he let you drag him into the musty building and up a staircase that shook under your weights.

Maybe he was sick of thinking and not doing.

The door to the roof was metal, the hinges rusting from years of rain and simply not being cared for or used. There was a hole where the handle should be, which concerned Felix. He was just about to question how to open it when you pushed your body against it, using your body to open the door. You propped the heavy door with a rock before gesturing out to the roof.

“After you.”

Felix walked past you onto the flat roof. Unlike the door, it seemed the roof had been somewhat cared for. The ground was bare of any trash, and the ivy that climbed the exterior walls was trimmed, banning the plant from covering anything other than the ledges. Somebody tended to it, keeping it clean and almost livable.

It was loved. This abandoned roof was loved, cherished, kept safe by someone. It was a sanctuary, your sanctuary, that you willingly brought Felix into.

Was he crazy? Or did you feel what he did? This connection to a complete stranger, a familiarity that only came with years of knowing someone, or loving someone. It’s like you knew him, like he knows you. Like you’ve spent all this time, caring for this roof just to show him. Just for him.

Like you’ve been searching for him all along.

Felix felt your shoulder brush against his arm as you walked past him, straight to the ledge of the building. You climbed onto it and sat, hanging your feet off the side. Palms resting at the sides, you looked up at the night sky.

“Sit with me?”

His body moved before he could answer, finding his place next to you.

“The best part about this rooftop is the sky.” You whispered as you adjusted your hand, the edge of your palm lightly pressing on Felix’s. “You can see everything from this high up. Look how much brighter the stars are here.”

But while your eyes were fixed on the stars, Felix’s were fixed on your. The way the moonlight made your skin glow, wide eyes sparkling with starlight. He couldn’t look away from you; he wanted to reach out and touch you. Trace the sharp edges of your jaw, feel the softness of your nose. He considered taking a picture of you, but knew no camera could capture what he was seeing. What he felt when he looked at you.

Was this love?

You lifted a hand, a thin finger pointing to the north. “Do you see that star?” Only then did Felix look away, turning in the direction of your finger. It would be hard to miss that star; while small, the light it gave off was bright. Instead of glowing white, it had a slight blue tint to it, setting it aside from the rest. “It reminds me of you.”

Felix found himself speechless, a squeaky “Me?” slipping past his lips.

You turned to look at him, a shy smile on your face as you locked eyes. “The way it subtly demands your attention, drawing you in and making you feel…warm. Like the way you fell - while less than subtle - but it drew me in. And then, I don’t know. It’s kind of silly. But you looked at me and I felt warm. Safe. You felt like a-“

“Home.” Felix softly cut you off. “Like a home.”

You nodded your head, lip trembling slightly as you spoke. “Is that crazy? I don’t even know your name-“

“It’s not.” He gripped your hand, no longer able to hold himself back from touching you. “It’s like, even though we just met, and we may only know each other for tonight, you’re more of a home to me than any person or place has ever been.”

Slinging one leg back onto the roof, you straddled the ledge, now face to face with Felix. “Exactly.” You whispered, shifting closer as he mirrored your position.

Felix’s knees bumped into yours as he leaned in, hands steady for the first time all night as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Never has he, the most nervous man in the country, felt so confident or bold. So…

Alive.

“Can I kiss you?” Felix asked in a hushed whisper, as if afraid the question would get lost in the space between you and him.

Your hand grabbed his wrist, holding his hand against your cheek and nuzzling into it. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sighed happily. “Please?”

His lips crashed against yours, pressure firm but pace slow. He wanted you to feel him, but didn’t want to rush anything. You shifted your weight to kiss him better as Felix teased the bottom of your lip, begging for entrance. Your lips parted slightly, letting him take the lead.

The taste of you was hypnotizing, pulling him in closer and making him dizzy. Felix really didn’t want to rush things - he wanted to take his time kissing you. But then your tongue brushed against his just right, a low moan filling both of your mouths, and Felix couldn’t find the strength to be hesitant anymore.

Lips moved faster. Breathes got heavier. Your hands were pushing Felix’s jacket off before he could even register what was happening. The denim material fell onto the rooftop, your matching one following. The evening chill, and the way your fingers twisted his white shirt to pull him closer, gave Felix goosebumps. How did he get here? How did he end up with someone like you in his arms, pleasure pulsing through his body, on the worst night of his life?

How did you make it better without even really trying?

You broke the kiss, hands falling asleep from how hard you were gripping his shirt. “Can we move off the edge? I’m all for thrills, but I'd rather not fall trying to undress you.”

It didn’t take long for you to end up on your back, the jackets serving as a barrier between you and the cold concrete. Both of your shirts had disappeared at some point during the transition, neither of you caring very much about their destination. Felix’s hands worked on the button of your jeans, lips moving steadily down your body.

“Wanna kiss you.” He mumbled, pants finally undone and slipping down your legs. “Wanna kiss every inch of you before I fuck you.”

He kissed you like you were made of glass, delicate and gentle as he canvased your body. Lips traveling from your neck to your shoulders, down to the swells of your breast and back up. Goosebumps painted your skin, back arching at the feeling of his lips.

When he reached the hem of your panties, hands flew up to his shoulders to stop him.

“No.” You said, pushing yourself up to a seated position. “Need to feel you, too.”

Your fingers moved over his skin like you were painting him, gently brushing down towards his lower body. Felix rolled his head back, sighing contently as you made sure not an inch of him went without your touch.

He helped you undo his belt, helped you remove his pants until he was as bare as you. Your lips found his, kisses laced with a need that made Felix’s heart ache. Kisses that were confirmation that you needed Felix as much as he needed you. If not more.

Felix laid you back down on the pile of clothes, kisses not faltering as he removed the last bit of your clothing and his. Once you were both nude, he broke the kiss.

The moonlight was highlighting every curve of your body. His eyes took in every inch of you, from the dimples in your skin to the scars of past injuries. Everything about your body had his knees weak. Nipples hardening under his gaze, lips swollen and red, sparkling doe eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in this world.

“You're beautiful.” He whispered.

One of your hands cupped his face, thumb running across his bottom lip as you stared into his eyes. “So are you.”

Felix searched for his jeans, fumbling in the pockets for his wallet. He pulled the condom out, double checking the expiration date before he slid it on his length.

“Are you sure?” He held the tip at the entrance, ready to either pull away or push in depending on your answer.

The yes you gave was barely audible over the pounding of his heart, but he heard it nonetheless, slowly easing himself into your tight walls.

He fell onto his elbows, holding his body above you as he gently pushed himself deeper in. The way your body reacted to him was his new favorite sight - your eyes kept fluttering shut, unable to stay open, as your mouth formed an o-shape and let him hear every little sound you made.

“Fuck.” You moaned, chills running down your spine. “You feel so good.”

The praise went straight to his head, making Felix crave more. “Yeah?”

You whined in response, a hand shooting up to grip one of his. “Yes. Yes. You’re fucking me so good. So big and- goddamn it.” The last part of your sentence was more of a scream as he hit your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure. “God, right there. Fuck, can you do it again? Can you give me more?”

Felix nodded, pace speeding up slightly to continuously hit that spot. You squeezed his hand tighter, your moans and the way you tighten around him setting his body aflame. The flames were hot, burning his skin marvelously as he began to shake, overwhelmed with the fire that you had lit inside of him.

“Good?” His voice was breaking, deep voice slowly beginning to fade into high pitched whines. “Is it-am I-“

“So good.” Your other hand flew to his chin, tilting it in your direction to look at him. “You’re such a good boy, baby.”

The fire was beginning to melt him, pace slowing and hips faltering. Felix’s eyes shut, giving himself over to the pleasure that was rapidly approaching.

“Fuck, I need-I mean-can I-I cum? Please?”

You answered by giving him the sweetest kiss he’s ever received, lips moving at the same tempo of his hips. The taste of you was so sweet, the tenderness behind your movements making Felix feel like he was flying. His lips vibrated when you moaned, pushing him over the edge.

Felix thinks he cried when he came, body trembling as he emptied himself into the condom. Felix thinks he crashed on top of you, growing dizzy from the way your walls constricted around him. He thinks he remembers you kissing his hairline as you praised him. Everything that happened after he finished blurred together, leaving him with only the clear memory of clutching onto you as he fell asleep.

The morning sun woke him up, the rays burning into his eyes and ripping him out of sleep. Or maybe it was the birds, who’s chirping was loud enough to make his head throb. Fuck, what time was it?

Felix sat up on the pile of his clothes, the rooftop empty save for a few birds picking at the ivy. Something felt wrong. Something was making him uneasy. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. Everything seemed safe - the door was still propped up, his skateboard was still in one piece, his clothes were all here. In fact, he was even somewhat clothed, though he can’t remember if it was you or him who put his boxers on.

Wait. That’s what was wrong.

You.

Where were you?

There was no trace of you on this rooftop. Your clothes were gone, your bag was gone, you were gone. It was like you were never here - nothing more than a dream.

The loneliness hit him like a train, tears threatening to pour as he fell into a pit of despair. Felix knew. He knew the possibility of never seeing you again was greater than loving you for longer than a night. He fucking knew, and he still let himself believe that maybe he would get lucky. Maybe you wouldn’t leave him.

He let himself cry. Fucking stupid Felix. How could he have been so dumb? Why did he do this to himself? He brought a hand to his face, pausing when he noticed the black ink that was staining his skin.

A heart was drawn on the back of his hand. Around the top was a string of numbers, ending with what he assumed was your name written in neat letters. He ran his thumb across the ink, whispering your name himself. It rolled off his tongue easily as he repeated it over and over, the smile on his face growing wider each time he said it.

Felix pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. It must have cracked during the fall, little shards of glass finding home in his fingers as he quickly cleared the numerous notifications he had. He couldn’t find it in him to care who was trying to find him, especially not when you answered the phone on the second ring, immediately feeling at peace when he heard your voice.

“Hey. It’s me, Felix.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #emo bf!skz chvnnie #stray kids fics #Spotify

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smartycvnt · 2 years

Text

only time

pairing: becky lynch x reader

summary: you return to the wwe only to learn time hasn't fixed your relationship with becky

"Oh my god! It seems the rumors were true, Y/n Y/l/n has returned to the WWE!" Corey excitedly called out from the commentary table. You shot him a wink as you got into the ring, ready to wreak havoc on Becky and Asuka. The crowd popped off for you in a way that made you realize how much you'd missed working for a company with so much exposure. There was something about tens of thousands of people cheering for you that really got your blood pumping.

"You!" Asuka yelled as she dropped Becky from the hold. You extended your hand towards her with a smile. It'd been years since you were in a WWE ring, since you'd gotten to face either of these women. She shook your hand, the two of you shared a look, and then hit Becky with some kicks together. The ref called the match as a DQ, and you were pulled away backstage. It was a short little return, but it'd be talked about for quite a while if the crowd's noises were anything to go by.

"What the hell was that?" Suddenly, you were reminded of why you had quit in the first place. Becky Lynch had once been the prime candidate for love of your life, but after a falling out, she was nothing more than a painful thorn in your side. The friendship and love that had once been shared by the two of you became hatred. You couldn't stand each other, and it seemed that your time apart hadn't changed that one bit.

"It was in the script, I was coming back tonight. Surely, you understood that part." You were being bitchy, but you didn't care. Becky squared up to you immediately, not in the mood to deal with your shit. "Punch me, get yourself suspended. Do it, I fucking dare you honey."

"Don't call me honey," Becky growled as she grabbed onto your jacket lapel. "I'm higher in this company than you are. It'd be in your best interest not to forget it."

"For someone who detests Charlotte so much, the two of you really are the same." You could tell it was a mistake the moment it left your mouth. Becky's fists tightened before she shoved you backwards. You watched her stomp off angrily. It wasn't a win necessarily for you, but you definitely left with the upper hand over Becky.

That meeting backstage set the tone for all of your interactions for the next few months. That much animosity was palpable, even through a camera, and Vince McMahon was nothing if not an opportunist. The two of you were put into a feud, which had you working together a lot more than either of you would have liked. Eventually, one of you would snap in the ring, leaving both of you with a colossal mess to clean up. You just didn't expect for you to be the one to set things off.

"What the fuck was that?" Punching Becky at a live show was not the way to go. The crunch of her nose breaking beneath your fist had been satisfying, but you couldn't help the guilt. Physically, she was in pain, but the hurt on her face wasn't attributed to that. "I'm out of here!"

"Becky, come on, don't be a little bitch!" you yelled as she walked out of the ring. You realized then how badly you'd fucked things up as the ref announced you as the winner due to a count out. You took some pictures with fans and hoped that Vince wasn't waiting to fire you. He was more invested in the filmed shows, but there was no way that this wasn't ending up all over Twitter and Instagram.

You took your time getting backstage. Vince was nowhere to be seen, nor was any of the upper management. You thanked your lucky stars as you went straight to the locker room. There had been a few girls in there, but they promptly left whenever you walked in. It wasn't televised, but you were sure that word had gotten around quickly. You had taken a cheap shot, so you'd also take whatever dirty looks your coworkers wanted to give you.

"Ouch, fuck!" you swore as Becky hit you in the back of the head. She sat down across from you on a bench and started to take off her gear. "I deserved that. I am sorry about what happened out there, things got heated. It was a mistake."

"I'll forgive you for that shit out there if you apologize for what you did five years ago," Becky told you.

"Becky, I didn't do anything five years ago." She had slept with you repeatedly and been the one to break things off immediately after. She had broken your heart. All you had done was get yourself away from it before it became destructive. "You're the one who pushed me away."

"I was scared. For fuck's sake, I'd never done anything like that with a friend," Becky explained. It was a bad explanation; you'd been friends with benefits for months before she called things off.

"Four months and then I became a mistake. You kept me around long enough to get attached before you cut the cord. Why are you so mad at me anyways?"

"Because you just left! You never invited me to any of your indie shows, you didn't call or text me, you did nothing! You didn't even give me a chance to apologize," Becky whispered the last part. You scoffed, knowing she could have gotten a hold of you on her own. "Do you know how much I wanted to say that I never got a chance to because you didn't let me know I could?"

"Don't get mad at me because you were too much of a coward to call. Obviously coming back to Raw was a mistake," you told her. "At least I wasn't fucking Charlotte."

"Don't you dare pick her over me, and don't you dare fucking run away from me again. I'm not the only coward in this relationship. I didn't just save your ass from getting fired for you to just run off again." Becky stood up in front of you, hovering over you.

"You talked to Vince?" you asked and Becky nodded. Things calmed down a little after that. You didn't have a reason to be mad with Becky, not after she had stuck herself out there for you like that. "Thank you."

"Yeah yeah, it was nothing. Just don't make a habit of causing trouble. There's only so much of my neck I can stick out for you. Let's just try to stay out of each other's hair from now on. If you want to leave after we finish this story, I won't stop you. Go beat up Charlotte and Sasha for all I care. Just, give what we've got some closure."

"I will," you promised. Becky reached out to put her hand on your shoulder, but decided against it. In a moment of impulse, you grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. "Goodnight Becky."

"Night you little brat," Becky teased. You slipped past her to shower and change so that you could go back to your hotel for the night. Becky was gone when you got back into the locker room, but the other girls had all returned already. You slipped out quietly, smirking to yourself when you found the note from Becky inviting you for a drink on Monday night.

"Coward," you said to yourself with a small smile.

#becky lynch x reader #becky lynch #becky lynch imagine #becky lynch imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines

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aerynwrites · 2 years

Text

All of You

Werewolf!Jayce x Reader

Arcane Halloweek: Day 1 - Full Moon

A/N: had to do some werewolf!Jayce!! Also please see this beautiful art if you’d like to see what I imagine Jayce’s wolf to look like, form-wise. (Minutes the flannel lol)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: none.

**not beta read - please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors**

You’ve been with Jayce for over a year before he finally agreed to show you the wolf.

Despite the fact that you know werewolves exist, the fact that everyone knows really, he’s been…hesitant to transform around you. Or even show you his other side at all.

So, when he was the one to approach you about the subject, surprise wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You had immediately agreed but also made sure he was doing this because he wanted to, not because he felt pressured.

There are also a firm set of rules he gives you once you both agree. The first being he still won’t transform in front of you, wanting you to get used to the wolf before being introduced to that. Second, you have to wait exactly two hours before meeting up with him.

He tells you it’s to give him time to hunt, but you can tell there’s something he’s not completely telling you.

“What is it, Jayce?” you ask, voice soft as you reach for his hand.

He sighs, squeezing your hand softly before intertwining your fingers. “I’m just…worried about a lot of things, is all.” He tells you, uncertainty lacing his words.

Brows furrowed, you lean into him from your seat on the couch beside him, nuzzling into his side. “What are you worried about?”

“What if…what if I hurt you? Or what if something happens or you’re scared of me-“

You cut off his worried rambling with a gentle hand on his cheek, guiding him to look at you as you sit up a bit straighter.

“First of all, I could never be scared of you. I love you and I know that even if you don’t look like you, you’re still…you.” You scrunch your nose at your less than elegant phrasing but continue anyways. “And second, you won’t hurt me. Have you ever hurt someone before?”

Jayce shakes his head. “Well, no…”

“Then everything will be fine.” You assure him with a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you. I can’t wait to meet all of you.”

Jayce can’t help but smile as you lean in for another kiss.

───── 𖥸 ─────

Autumn has set in rather quickly here. Leaves litter the frosted floor, crunching beneath your well worn boots as you trek carefully through the woods. Your breath materializes in front of you in puffs of white as you use nothing but the light from the full moon to guide you along the familiar forest path.

It’s bright tonight, the sky clear of any clouds that might obscure the white globe hanging heavily in the sky as it seems to look down upon you. But even if there were clouds, you are confident you’d be able to find your way, this journey familiar because of how often you and Jayce walk along it.

“I find the forest…calming.”

He had told you early on in your relationship, before you knew he was a werewolf. The memory, along with all the other ones this trek holds, makes you smile as you finally reach your destination.

The clearing is like something straight out of a movie. The dense trees give way to a large opening in the forest with thick grass covering the ground. Now it’s accompanied by a layer of colorful leaves, but in the spring and summer, this place is one of your favorites. Wildflowers sprout from the ground in abundance when the frost finally melts and gives way to warm spring days and eventually vent warmer summer months.

But even on the hottest day it’s somehow blissfully cool beneath the shade of the trees, the sun filtering through in dabbled layers that kiss your skin as you and Jayce would lay among the flowers.

Even now, as a gentle breeze nips at your nose, you can still vividly remember the feeling of flowers tickling your arms and the sunlight warming your cheeks.

You love this place.

So when Jayce had chosen it as the place where he wanted to meet you for the first time transformed…it meant more to you than you’d let on.

Now all that’s left to do is wait.

You try to do so patiently, but anticipation runs hot in your veins and every sound of the forest feels amplified. The crickets chirp all around you, tree branches rustle with the wind and you hear the far off howl of a wolf.

Is it Jayce? Did he have a successful hunt and is letting you know he’s on his way? Is he calling out to you?

You know that there are other wolves in this area, and most likely, the howl you hear is too far off for it to be your partner. But you can’t help but wonder.

What does he sound like? Is he as big as the wolves you’ve seen roaming the woods or is he larger? Of course you’ve learned about werewolves, they taught about them and various other monsters in school but much like humans, everyone is different.

Some look like larger versions of regular wolves, walking on all fours with dog-like paws. But some look slightly different. Hind legs like those of a wolf or dog but front legs more like a humans and giving them the ability to walk upright as well.

Is his fur the same color as his hair? Will his eyes still be the same Hazel that you get lost in -

Crack!

A branch snaps behind you, leaves rustling beneath footsteps and crunching as weight is settled into the forest floor.

You try to stamp out the spike of fear that shoots through you at the sound of an unknown entity approaching.

You hadn’t discussed with Jayce what to do if something else approached you in the clearing.

But before you can panic, a massive form enters the clearing just as you turn around, and you immediately feel a sense of calm wash over you despite what your eyes see.

The werewolf is massive. Larger than any animal you’ve ever seen, and suddenly the pictures from your anatomy book in high school don’t do the creatures justice.

He’s on all fours now, but if he were to stand on powerful hind legs, he would easily tower over you by at least three heads.

Thick muscles ripple beneath dark brown fur as the wolf approaches you, and you instinctively seek out its eyes. The smile that tugs at your lips is involuntary as you find familiar pools of hazel licking into your own as the creature stops before you.

But it’s not a creature. It’s Jayce, something you can sense without any words being exchanged. Maybe it’s his eyes, or the color of his fur, or the way he stoops his head down as you step closer - you can’t explain it, but you know it’s him. You can sense it, I’m the way your body calms immediately as a hand sinks into the soft fur behind his ear.

The laughter that bubbles from your chest makes Jayce blink owlishly at you, head tilting to the side curiously, an action that only makes you laugh harder.

Eventually, when you’re gasping for breath and nearly doubled over, Jayce nudges your cheek gently with his nose. It’s cool and wet against your skin and finally you stand up straight once more.

Immediately you can see sorry in Jayce’s eyes, and you shake your head reaching up to place your hands one either side of his massive head, once agains relishing in the smooth softness of his fur between your fingers.

“I'm sorry,” you say, laughter dying but a smile still present. “I just - you’re so…” Your hands fall from him as you take a step back, taking him in once more as you trail off, trying to explain your thoughts.

Right now he’s sitting on his haunches, front arms supporting him so he’s sitting in an upright position. Even sitting he’s taller than you, taller than he normally is in his human form.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re launching forward to wrap your arms around him, surprising the wolf enough for him to let out growled huff before returning the embrace as best he can.

You laugh again, nuzzling into his chest as his head bows down to rest over your shoulder.

“Now you’re even more tall.” You joke. “I don’t think that’s very fair.”

Jayce huffs again, nudging you away from him enough to send what you interpret as an unamused glare. You roll your eyes and reach out to rub behind his ears again, your way of assuring him you’re teasing.

“I’m kidding, Jayce,” you say, pausing for a moment, to once again take in the moment before you.

It all feels so surreal.

Yes, you know werewolves exist, along with all kinds of other creatures thought to be myths hundreds of years ago. But you never anticipated seeing one in real life, let alone being in a relationship with one.

But as you sit here, I’m the comfortable familiarity of the woods and this little clearing that holds so many memories…you’re more than happy to have added another one to this place.

Slowly, you lean forward and press your forehead to Jayce’s, watching as his eyes slip shut before crouching so he’s closer to your level.

You stay like this for a moment, breathing in the smell of the forest that clings to his fur - moss and decaying leaves and fresh dirt. Taking in his steady, deep breaths and the warmt air that ghosts across your neck when he lets them out.

This is your Jayce. The man you fell in love with and want to share the rest of your life with. This magnificent being full of so much power and strength showing you nothing but gentleness and care.

“Thank you,” you finally shower, die tickling your lips. “Thank you for trusting me. I love you.”

A whine, low and deep sounds from within Jayce’s chest, and you can feel the way it vibrates his entire being as he presses forward pushing closer to you.

His size makes you stumble slightly, feet shuffling in the leaves as you get your footing once more, soft giggles escaping you as you pull away to look at him again.

“Easy there big guy,” you chuckle, I’m still clumsy and you’re twice your usual size.”

He obviously doesn’t respond verbally, but the huff he lets out is enough for you to understand him. You want to move to hug him again, but before you do, a brilliant idea pops into your head just as a teasing smirk tugs at your lips.

“So…” You begin, clasping your hands behind your back as Jayce’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Is it possible for you to like…give me a ride back to the cabin?” You ask, faux innocence lacing your words.

Jayce may not be able to speak, but his face and eyes are more expressive than you were expecting of a werewolf, and the look he sends you is down right scathing an unamused. You expect him to nudge you playfully, telling you to walk beside him on the way back.

But to your complete and utter delight, the wolf let’s out another short chuff and ticks his head behind him, as he crouches down to the ground.

“Oh my god really?”

He levels you with another look as if to say - don’t make me change my mind - and that’s the final push you need to take the offer.

Even crouching to the ground, Jayce’s wolf is still huge, so it takes a little more effort to climb into his back than you expected. But once you’re there, your legs sit comfortably on each side of him as your fingers grasp into the fur at the base of his neck.

“Woah!” You call out as Jayce gets to all fours, jostling you slightly before you settle down again.

“Hey,” you say to him, leaning down to stabilize yourself, running a hand down his flank. “I love you.” You tell him again.

Jayce casts you a long glance over his shoulder, and it doesn’t take much for you to understand that he’s returning the affection.

But before you have time to dwell on the weirdly instinctive understanding you have with Jayce’s wolf, he’s blushing off, your laughter ringing out between the trees as you both head back home.

#arcane jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #arcane x reader #werewolf!Jayce talis #werewolf!jayce #werewolf!jayce x reader #arcanehalloweek22 #arcane Halloweek #Halloween #fall #full moon

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raspberrysmoon · 9 months

Text

oh my god @rtcshipweeks today was rough im so sorry this is so late its almost 11 here sobs - day six: favorite jane ship!! sugardolls :D

this ones a bit longer- fic below :)

nobody knew what her name was. not even her.

constance felt terrible for her. their beds were next to each other, so she tried to include the girl in things, but she couldn't say she felt comfortable around her yet.

it was killing her.

the girl was now vaguely familiar. wavy brown hair and pretty hazel eyes that constance remembers thinking about when class got boring. she was kind, and pretty funny despite being strangely deadpan most of the time.

she talked about animals a lot, and she seemed to know loads about conservation efforts in saskatchewan.

she liked lemon deserts, but poppy seed muffins were an absolute no-go. anything with crunch was well received, like toffee, but if it had a melt-in-your-mouth texture she absolutely adored it.

constance asked her mom about coating toffee in something that melted, and her mom promised to look into it.

it took months for her to remember even her favorite color, or if she had any allergies. but she never knew her name.

sometimes she had bursts of memory, too. she would meet constances gaze and a medication name, or even a persons name, but no one could connect it back to anyone in town.

together, they discovered that the girl is scared of needles, and that she doesn't like her own blood, but is fascinated by others blood. she has a high pain tolerance, and she has a high tolerance for painkillers.

together, they discovered that shes mildly lactose intolerant, and almonds make her want to puke. constance helped her through as much as she could bear.

she couldn't sleep without someone, usually ocean, next to her, though. the doll was.. too much. most nights ocean was more than happy to push their beds together and have a sleepover, but some nights she just wanted rest.

tonight was one such night.

it was like constance could feel the blank, porcelain stare of the doll, lovingly named jane, even through the curtain.

she repressed a sigh and pushed herself out of bed, grabbing her cane. she walked to the window, and stared at the street below. she could seen nurses starting to leave and switch over to the night shift, and if she looked far enough she could see the mall closing.

she rested her head on the window and let her mind wander. always back to the beautiful hazel eyed girl, of course.

her smile, the excitement that took over when she remembered another fact that she hadn't told yet, the scrunch of her nose when she ate something sour.

"you should be asleep, connie."

she nearly screamed when she registered how close the voice was. she turned, meeting the girls gaze shakily.

"you scared me, sugar." she paused, brow furrowing. "you should be asleep too."

she simply shrugged, walking closer to the window and leaning on the sill. "i was thinking."

constance hummed, settling back into her original spot. "what about?"

"a boy." constance felt her heart squeeze. "i keep dreaming about him, and i can't figure out why. he looks like me."

constance looked down at a passing red chevy. "maybe you have a brother."

the girl shrugged, pressing her shoulder to constance. "maybe i do. i would hope he'd come looking for me, though."

"he could be." she looked over, smiling softly. "its not easy to get to us though, he might not be allowed in."

she hummed. "why are you awake? i thought you had a good sleep schedule."

constance giggled a bit. "better than rickys. i just have trouble sleeping alone, i guess. i feel very disconnected from everyone and it makes me anxious." it wasn't technically a lie.

the girl nodded. "do you want me to stay with you? you need sleep, you're still healing." she glanced down at constances hip briefly, before making eye contact.

constance blinked, and then blushed, ducking her head. "if.. if you want to, that would be nice. i can stay awake for one night, its not a huge deal."

the girl shook her head. "lets go lay down and get you off your hip."

god, constance really had it bad. she followed the other girl, and together they managed to push their beds together without waking anyone else.

they laid in silence, with constance tracing random shapes onto the girls hand. eventually, though, the silence was broken as it always must be.

the girl shot up and constance yelped as she was dislodged from her previous position.

she looked back at constance, with wide eyes and a wider smile.

"penny."

constance cocked her head. "penny?"

"my name. my name is penny."

constance didn't think she could possibly have fallen any harder, but she could barely breathe.

the beautiful girl, with big hazel eyes and soft brown hair, and a voice to rival an angels. the girl with the blinding smile and a gorgeous laugh, in front of her joy radiating off of her, finally finding a piece of herself.

constance grinned, holding out a hand to the girl. to penny.

"its nice to meet you, penny."

#ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc ship weeks #jane doe ride the cyclone #jane rtc #constance rtc #jane doe #jane doe rtc #ride the cyclone penny #penny lamb #constance blackwood #ride the cyclone constance #this was rough to write #new exercise:#write a character without a name

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barncat-therapy · 9 months

Text

A Single Loose Thread and It All Comes Undone

TIMING: Early May PARTIES:@barncat-therapy & @rhythmicmeow SUMMARY: Two jaguars walk into the woods. Nobody has fun.

There was a line about this, warning people away from being too curious and getting themselves hurt in their recklessness. A saying that Leticia should have taken to heart considering it applied directly to the kindred spirit she shared this life with. Curiosity killed the cat. But no warning was going to keep Leticia away from the mines. What was the harm in a little look around?

At first, the smell was annoying at best. But no matter how much she held her breath, whatever was in the air was still reaching Leticia. And that feeling in the back of her head was familiar. An itch that came right before she lost control. A feeling too close to the one that had sent her spiraling into a panic on stage.

She couldn’t do that here, she couldn't do that again. Leaving Wicked’s Rest and starting over? There was no place else that Leticia could disappear into. This was it. The last stop. If she went anywhere else, how would her mother find her when she finally came home?

Leticia’s feet started moving at the same pace as her facing mind. And just as quickly, she had run into the woods. A familiar scene was replying in her head. Fleeing from New York. Transforming. Loss. Every sound and smell was overwhelming, but the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs pulled her focus. “Who’s there?” She called out, a drop of desperation in her voice. “I can hear you!”

Funny how a bad smell was perhaps the first thing to really make him think of turning around and leaving town. The thought didn't linger for too long, mind you. But the stench did start to feel horribly inescapable this past week or so. It felt like it clung to Luis' nose just to torment him anywhere he went and tainted the taste of food and drink as it did so. Whenever it seemed the humans around him no longer smelled it, he found himself quietly cursing his own sense of smell being so much sharper than theirs.

Tonight, the mingled, though distant, smell of both the Death Pit and the foul stench of the mines had found their way into his normally safe bedroom, leaving him unable to sleep and instead wandering off towards the pines in search of a hopefully quiet and most importantly untainted place to at least sit down.

By no fault of his own, his plans would change drastically.

As Luis wandered, countless unspoken frustrations bubbled to the surface of his mind. And it felt like the smell was only getting stronger.

The next thing he knew, he realised that the jaguar was no less agitated about it all than he was. Maybe?

By the time he'd quite realised his tight grip of self control, held for years and years and well trained as it was, had slipped, his mind was growing a bit more distant and hazy.

Alongside, his skin was by now coated in a layer of fur, and sharp fangs dug into his lips where he nibbled at them in a nervous habit.

Maybe he would have welcomed it as familiar and comfortable, had it not scared him. Terrified him even.

What if someone saw him like this? Why had he shifted without thinking about it? And why couldn't he stop it and just shift back now?

He found himself briefly thinking back to what he'd overheard from behind closed doors as a kid. That his affinity for spending his time half-shifted might mean he was a danger to everyone.

And that was the last thing he really thought about before the complexities and overthinking of his mind slipped out of his grasp.

What had been something inbetween feline and human morphed the rest of the way to a large spotted golden cat. Foreign to a land so far north. All instinct, driven by all that same frustration, fear and shame, some of which he couldn't grasp or explain now even to himself.

Restless could barely begin to describe how the jaguar acted now, trotting and galloping in bursts between the tall thin trunks of pine trees. Uninterested in mice or hare, but the scent of a person proved ample to catch his attention.

Cautious still, perhaps. He moved slower now, stalking towards a scent that was so so vaguely familiar.

Not slowly enough to avoid being heard, clearly.

The pine forest offered little cover.

The shouting would be answered by a growl, and a short roar. A fairly universal signal of 'get out', under threat of a charge from where the cat stood half-crouched, eyes trained on Leticia.

The shape of the stranger came forward into the small clearing in the woods, and Leticia was hit with a wave of familiarity. She couldn't place it, but as the balam gained more power over her body and control slipped through her fingers like fog that couldn’t be held, the smell grew stronger. It wasn’t her mother; it wasn’t her father, but it was someone.

Leticia brought her hands to either side of her head, gritting her teeth as the pounding in her head got louder and harder. The warning growl of the other balam did nothing to calm her racing mind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking of music and melodies, anything to calm herself down and give her a new focus. The thought of music coupled with the balam clawing its way to the surface - her only thoughts were of New York.

The grief of her father, the isolation she had forced herself into because of the threat, the humiliation of exposing her form like that on stage - she blinked. And she was gone.

In Leticia’s place was a jaguar, black of color, the same coat as her father’s. The spirit’s eyes made contact with the other, claws digging into the ground, marking it as hers. Growling low in response, the spirit circled the other. She had been here first, the growl reminded. They should be the one leaving. As she walked in a circular pattern, she slowly got closer. Silently demanding for the other to yield first.

The golden jaguar showed no sign of backing down, the proud creature that he was. Gold and obsidian fur was parted in places with scars, marks of old encounters that had stayed even when the body had changed so dramatically. Mirroring the other's motion slowly, waiting for the opportunity to strike and force the intruder out.

But there would be no fight. The two weren't alone, evidently. The snapping and crackling of footsteps across the forest floor was proof of that - as did the human exclamation that came from the same direction. There was no good reason why a mighty beast should care so much for something as common and fragile as a human, but amidst the jumble of emotions in the jaguar's mind was still fear of them. A sense of great danger.

Leaving his rival alone, he'd instead leapt suddenly for the lone human behind himself with a furious roar.

Watching as the other moved, the dark jaguar stilled when the sudden noise interrupted their dance. Her head eyes moved from the other to the human that now entered their area, and in the intensity of the fog that clouded her mind, there was no protective spirit to be seen. Instead, there was anger. She moved forward, roaring at the other, demanding to be heard. To be respected. This was her home, and she had no intention of sharing it with another.

The invading human was of little consequence. She lunged as the other jaguar did, not aiming to kill, but to wound as a warning. It wasn’t about saving the human, the low growl that she released in response to the human screaming was proof enough of that. This was about proving a point. This was her forest. Her humans. Her home.

The golden jaguar was caught off guard by the attack, lashing out with claws with reckless abandon to fight off the temporarily ignored rival.

There was something more important. He needed to chase the human before it could get him killed.

Worrying about how to communicate the danger properly would normally be far from consideration.

Why would a jaguar need to make such things understood to another, not even one of close family?

But then again, his body had also found itself shifting already. Rather than a whole feline, he now moreso resembled a strange almost human-shaped creature. Like a jaguar version of a sun bear.

Just enough for Luis' human mind to creep back in faintly.

The jaguar, however, did not feel so keen on backing down from the fight outright. Leave he shall, but not as a coward.

The jaguar took the attack with pride, thrilled at the newfound attention. This was a fight worth having. This was what they were looking for in the trees. The human was still stumbling through the brush nearby, but the jaguar had one focus in mind. There was territory to be protected, she had never had to share before, and the other felt invasive.

But the other started to shift, the jaguar lowered her head to the ground, her eyes focused on the partial creature. A low growl emanating from the back of her throat, a warning once more. Was this supposed to be a surrender? She huffed loudly, annoyed that the fight was seemingly over before it began. Even the bear had more bite than this other jaguar.

The desire to not harm the other jaguar grew stronger, meshing together with the opposite instinct to fight in self-defence and for pride into a confusing, muddied mess of emotions. Frustration, aimed inwardly, bubbled to the surface.

All the while, the physical signs of this struggle were clear - the almost jaguar shook itself before aiming to spring forward, only to instead leap sideways. Its form was unstable, failing to settle between returning back to fully jaguar and shifting to be more human once again.

They'd almost never properly faught for control. Not insofar as they could remember. That quarrel of emotions and impulses wouldn't last very long.

He regained his own proper feline form and lunged forward properly, to grapple head-on with the black feline. Only to seconds later find himself rapidly changing to a largely human shape and freezing in place. Mouth open to shout, though nothing came out.

The other came toward her and for a moment, she was excited. This was what the spirit had wanted. A proper fight to use up the energy that continued to buzz in her mind. The fog at the corner of her mind fed into the craze, propelling her forward as the other jaguar made his move. Preparing herself, she lowered her head to the ground, eyes locked on the other form until it wasn’t.

The other jaguar was replaced with a human figure now, and the balam growled lowly. DIsappointment and frustration thrumming through their veins. She approached the human slowly this time, head still low, ready to leap at the sign of any sudden movements. Her claws would be the last thing this human saw if they continued to toy with her.

Luis stayed rooted in place despite the angry panther's approach. There was no reason to be scared of his own. His mind was still muddled and confused, an urge to snarl back and intimidate was still there. An urge to chase the human from before was still there.

It was hard to gather words together, but he did.

"We have to leave. You have to shift. If they find you here, they will kill you!"

And they'll kill me too.

In a way it was stupid to care, and not just leave for his own safety, or whatever.

It was stupid to yell at someone that, in the moment, was stronger than you.

He still had fangs and fur, and claws, but Luis' ill-advised compassion proved stronger than his self-preservation instinct right now. A fact he now felt both proud and furious at himself for.

The balam paused in her movements, the words weren't recognized by her ear, but the posture alluded to a warning. The other was standing their ground now, and she was left with little more than confusion. A new kind of cloud fogging up her thoughts.

Each step was accompanied with more words that the balam didn't understand. Maybe the words didn't entirely matter? Their intent managed to make their way into the jaguar's mind. Something stirring inside of her that wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Just... unusual.

The other spirit rarely tried to force her way back into control, which made the sensation even more uncomfortable than it already was. It felt less like claws and more like pleading. The balam shook her head, trying to shake the feeling from her mind. But the pressure persisted. And slowly, the balam gave way to Leticia.

It hadn’t really occurred to Luis to question how well a jaguar might even understand his shouting in English. In hindsight he might feel dumb about it, but now, now he stood momentarily convinced it could work.

And he wasn’t entirely wrong. That much was clear when the black jaguar in front of him began to shift. One of their problems was, though only somewhat, resolved.

“Oh, thank gods. Okay. We need to. We need to get out of here. Quickly. We were seen. And I don’t know how long we’re safe here for. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Luis’ tone was fairly flat as always, and his body language didn’t betray much more. But his speech kept pausing as his mind raced. And he started to pace in circles somewhat.

Where were his own clothes, if he had any hope of finding them at all now, for one. The same for the stranger as well, of course. They couldn’t just traipse back into town naked.

The words assaulted her mind before she had time to fully process what was going on. Leticia blinked a few times, the world around her slowly coming into view. Her fingers dug into the ground, trying to center her mind as the balam kept stirring inside her chest. The wind, the grass, the trees — she tried to focus on each piece before standing up.

When was the last time she woke up without remembering how she closed her eyes? The voice cut into her thoughts and Leticia looked toward the man. “Uh,” looking up at the sky, Leticia tried to gauge the directions. Geology, like most sciences, had never been her strong suit. “This way, I think. I’ve got a friend near Darling Lake. She’ll help, she’s—“ Not human, was the first thing that came to mind, but even knowing that this stranger was like her, she wasn’t willing to out her friend. “She’s good. She won’t judge.”

"Alright."

Luis agreed without a thought to the proposal.

Only to then stare down at his arm, still covered wholly by marked fur, the way the rest of him was. What he agreed to caught up to him quickly, and he wanted to take it back. He couldn't afford the risk of letting someone else, another stranger, see him. Not like this. But he'd already agreed, and he hardly had any other choice.

Not like Luis had much of anyone to turn to. For the most part.

"Does she know? You know, about balam. Or should I. Hide that?"

His pacing slowed to a stop, though now he didn't really look at the stranger, trying to be considerate of both of their current circumstances.

Diverting her eyes, Leticia scratched the back of her head. She felt like she should apologize, whatever the balam had done to him had been her as well, hadn't it? But he was like her... maybe she didn't have to say it. Maybe he just understood.

"Her name is Teagan," Leticia offered, glancing in his direction. "She knows about balam, yes. About me." She walked next to him, guiding him in the direction of Darling Lake. "You can hide it if you want, I am not going to tell her, or anyone else." This secret could be between the two of them, though Teagan would likely put the pieces together. "But you don't have to hide it from her."

#while in the fog and still afraid (thread rp)#rhythmicmeow

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