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oneforthemunny · 26 days
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build me up, buttercup |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby!reader|
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prompt: you and eddie are planning a baby shower to welcome in your first baby, persephone. or how the girl's flower themes are born.
a teeny tiny blurb that i'm excited to share. follows the lore than each of the girls have their own flowers, and this is how persephone's came to be <3 hope you enjoy!
contains: pure fluff. honestly just cutesy shit. language. pregnant!reader.
"I just want something bright." You hum, swaying gently to soothe your sore, aching joints. Your ring dazzled in the bright light pouring in from the open windows, smoothing over the swell of your stomach.
"Is there a specific color, Mrs. Munson?" The timid event planner asked, spreading out swatches of bright yellows, powdery blues, pastel pinks. "If we start with a color, maybe that would help narrow down the options?"
"I don't know." You frowned, a swell of frustrated tears bubbling to life in your chest. You didn't know, and you hated that you didn't know. It was your baby shower, you wanted it to be perfect.
Eddie's spine straightened, eyes cutting to you carefully. He sensed the tears, the irritation of feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, all threatening to come out the only way they knew how to. He'd been on the receiving end of too many of those fits. His hand found your thigh, squeezing it gently, thumb rubbing soft circles over your soft flesh, a desperate attempt to soothe.
"You're wanting flowers, right? That's the main theme." Your assistant, Natasha, a complete saint in disguise. With pregnancy brain and hormones, you were sure you'd never make it without her. "Do you have options for a floral theme?"
"Yes," The planner squeaked, thumbing through her briefcase of photos, swatches, notes.
Eddie felt you tense, your hand rubbing over your stomach in slow circles, huffing in defeat. "Hey, could you give us a second, Nat?" Eddie hummed. "Just give us one sec to look and kinda talk."
"Of course. Let's take a little break. I'll go get some tea." Natasha gave you both a small smile, padding to the kitchen the event planner following closely behind.
Your sigh, heavy and huffy, echoed off the walls. It made Eddie cringe gently, pulling the flower pictures closer to the two of you. "What about this one? Nice and pink for ya." Eddie held the small sample photo up to you, filled with sweet peas and hydrangeas, obnoxiously pink.
"Yeah," You muttered, lips still puffed in a pout. "I don't even know if I want pink anymore."
"Blue?" Eddie grinned lightly. "Trick everyone into thinking it's a boy incase there's a leak." He cringed when your breath hitched, eyes wide in horror.
"I'm kidding, baby." Eddie added quickly. "No one's gonna leak. We're keeping it intimate."
"Yeah, right." You sighed. "My mom and dad will bring all these people I barely even know."
"And I'll tell them to leave." Eddie's chest puffed, spine straightening. "I'm serious. They're not on the list, they can fuck off, alright? Goes for Victor and Tana too. Not gonna let them upset you."
The small smile you gave him felt like a standing ovation, a victorious win after a grueling, hard day. Filled his chest with warmth, hand squeezing yours lightly.
"If there's even a shower to kick them out of." Your smile fell just as quickly as it came, shoulders slumping with them. "Can't even pick a theme."
"We'll get it. C'mon," Eddie's calloused fingertips tickled your jaw, lifting your gaze to his. "Don't be like that, sweetheart."
"I can be like that if I want to." Your voice teetered on the edge of a whine, the hinting of a cry. "I can't even make a decision about a baby shower theme. How am I going to make a decision about a baby?"
"Stop that." Eddie shook his head, voice dropping to a soft coo. "Two totally different things, baby. Not even comparable." It was rational, firm but soothed your bundles of nerves. You both had your own worries, fears about parenthood- fear of the unknown that was creeping closer and closer.
"Here," Eddie stood, chains hanging from his jeans jingling with every heavy step towards the shelves on either side of the television, lined with books.
Eddie's fingers danced over the spines, until he found the book. Still new, no cracks in the spine or bent pages, a gift from Farrah when you told her the baby's name. "I saw it at this bookstore in Amsterdam. I had to get it." She'd squealed, giving you the book with a title that your baby shared- Persephone.
Eddie had been more elated than you, reading it front to back more than once. Reading it to you at night, eyes lighting when he'd read something interesting.
"I think I saw somethin' in here." Eddie sank back down beside you on the couch. "Just an idea."
You curled into him, knees tucked under you, head on the soft, worn material of his t-shirt. His cologne, a faint smoky smell of a cigarette- you could feel your body relaxing, intoxicatingly calm.
Calloused fingertips thumbed through the pages until he found the page he was looking for, lips parting in a soft, triumphant hum. "Look," Eddie tilted the page towards you, fingertip tracing the small etching of a flower. "Says there's some history behind this flower and Persephone."
You titled your head, eyes scanning over the text.
"In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Earth Goddess Gaia produced the yellow petaled Narcissus specifically to enchant Persephone. Now, this early blooming flower is seen as the harbinger of Spring, announcing Persephone's ascent to the surface."
"Interestingly, for all it's association with rebirth and new life with Spring, the bulb is highly toxic?" You frowned, head tilting up towards Eddie.
His lips curled in a wide, excited grin, eyes shining with gleaming pride. "That's fucking cool, isn't it?" Eddie beamed.
Heat blossomed in your chest, dissolving the feeling of frustration and fear, and blooming with something lighter. Soothing and happy, spreading through your chest all the way to your cheeks.
"That is pretty cool." You nodded, scanning the table for a yellow swatch. "We could do like a yellow and white kinda theme, right? That would be neutral in case it did get leaked."
Eddie gave a small eye roll. "It won't get leaked." He muttered, setting the book to the side. "But, yeah, neutral but still bright."
"Make the narcissus the main flower. Maybe add baby's breath and something else..." You muttered, pulling the swatches in front of you. Eddie's chest boasted, watching your small frown on your features, determined instead of frustrated now.
"Do they keep?" You turned to Eddie. "Like, they won't wilt or be gross, right?"
"Buttercups? Nah, they'll keep." Eddie shook his head gently. "Used to pick them for my mom all the time when I was little. She'd keep 'em in a vase and some water, and they'd stay forever."
Your heart swelled, a dull ache behind his words. Even now, married and expecting a baby, Eddie rarely spoke about his mother. Every small detail he'd share, you'd guard protectively in your thoughts, wanting to remember every detail you could.
"Ok," You nodded, a small sigh of relief. "Let's do that then."
You groaned, pushing off the back of the couch, Eddie's hands quickly finding your waist to help you stand. "Will you go get them? I have to pee, and I'll be right back."
Weeks later, Eddie was sure he'd never seen so many shades of yellow- so many flowers in his life. Your family's Malibu home transformed to a bright, floral baby shower of your dreams. Buttercups at every arrangement, starred prominently in bustles of baby's breath and tiny white daisies. All the guests even in various shades of yellow, shining brightly under the California sun.
Eddie managed to sneak a bouquet after the party, when you'd gone to lay down and the staff was cleaning up. He'd handed it to Natasha, sent it with her to get pressed and framed, until it found it's new home in the nursery.
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rafescurtainbangz · 1 month
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Sharing Part 1 - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18 Minor DNI
Rafe x Rafe X Reader
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Ask: Rafe x Rafe x Reader
So, for this, Rafe has a twin whose name is Cam. Rafe is (Curtain Bang Rafe), and Cam is (Buzz Cut Rafe).
Warning: SMUT, language, drinking, name calling, I'm not sure how to label the part at the bar… just twin shit idk read at your own risk 😂🫶
Choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, public sex, rough sex, shower sex
Masterlist
Tag List
Sorry if you asked to be tagged 🫶💕 I’m working off a tag list. Please add your name here for part 2
Tags: @imyourdaninow @rafesthroatbaby @h34rtsformilli @romaescapes @Jayla @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180
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Y/N's POV:
"Touchdown, Bulldogs!"
The stadium erupts with applause as Rafe gets swallowed up in a team hug. The school fight song blares through the open arena as a massive homecoming crowd clamors to storm the field in celebration. You hang back slightly with the other players' girlfriends, watching as Rafe shuffles over to an equally massive #2; Cameron scrolled across his back as well. The two of you have only been dating for a few weeks, but you could tell, like quintessential twins, those two were close.
Cam was always Rafe's second call after you, no matter what, good or bad, and it almost seemed like Cam was two steps ahead. He knew how to calm him down; he always seemed to know what to say. But, then there was the rivalry; Cam knew how to push Rafe's buttons. What to say to trigger a classic Cameron bitch fit.
Rafe wanted nothing more than to win this game. You could see his chest puffed out a little more than usual, his shit-eating grin a little more sly. Rafe tugs off his helmet, skimming his fingers through his sweaty fringe as his brother removes his helmet as well.
You squint your eyes, stomach fluttering as you take in the difference from all the Instagram and Snapchat images you've stalked prior: a fresh buzz cut. Jesus Christ. Rafe pulls him in for a big hug, slapping his shoulder pads.
Your nerves creep in fast, a combination of anxieties about meeting Cam for the first time. I want to impress him. I want him to like me. I want him to think I'm good for Rafe. That's his twin brother, after all. Sure, I met Ward and Rose, Wheezie and Sarah, and that went great, but this is the big leagues. This is his twin; this is make-or-break.
But, on a separate note, should I be this nervous? I mean, in this way? Seeing Cam gave me butterflies... Maybe it's 'cause he looks so much like Rafe? I can't deny that when he took off his helmet, I felt something. Fuck, I'm in trouble.
"There she is," Rafe groans as he pulls you off your feet and into his strong arms. You cup his sweat-glistened cheeks, kissing him deeply.
"Hi, Rafey," you mumble against his sweet lips.
"How'd I do?" He smiles against your pout, nose nuzzling yours playfully.
"So damn good," you praise as you scratch your nail into his hair, pulling him closer.
"You look so pretty, baby - love seeing you in my jersey." Rafe sets you down on your feet, kissing you again before pulling you to his side.
"This her?" Cam pipes in, stealing your attention away.
"Sure is. Cam, y/n; y/n, Cam," Rafe smiles down at you proudly. You turn your attention to Cam, feeling that same flutter from before, a blush creeps in your cheeks as you see the same look in his eyes that Rafe gave you the first night you met.
"Well, shit," he rasps as he steps a little closer. Cam takes you off Rafe's hands, drawing you into his embrace, hugging you before pulling back ever-so-slightly. "Fuck, you're stunning," he praises.
Cam reaches up, fixing the little "R" pendant on your chest, brushing your clothed cleavage as he sets it in place. Your heart races at the contact between you, banging so loudly you swear Cam can hear it. "Thank you," you breathe. A grin slides across Cam's lips; Cam's smile is stunning, just like your boyfriend's. But there's a fire behind it that once again gives you the most delicious deja vu. Cam likes what he sees.
"So..." Rafe teases, head cocked slightly, arms raised, holding open your spot at his side.
"Oh shit. Sorry, Rafey," Cam snickers as he passes you back to his brother. Rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders, tugging you in, pressing a rough kiss on your hair. Cam's eyes return to his brother, a smirk spreading on his rosy lips. You look up at Rafe, catching the mirror image.
"Well, this one's gonna help me with my post-game routine; why don't you come over in like an hour-" Rafe continues to talk; Cam cocks his eyebrow, seemingly stuck on the first part of the plan for the evening. He smiles sinfully, eyes falling down your body, making you blush as you see his wheels turn. These two talk about everything; your little post-match shower session was most likely a topic of discussion already. 
"We drinkin' tonight?" Cam drawls.
"Literally just said that, dumbass. Maybe if you stop starin' at my girl's tits, you could focus. Yeah?" Rafe taunts, shoving his brother away.
"Not gonna apologize," he bullies as he wets his plump bottom lip.
If Cam was anyone else, he'd gone - erased from this earth for his wandering eye. Rafe, no stranger to roughing up a guy or two on account of you - his brother seemingly the exception. "You're a fuckin' dog, buddy." Cam shrugs and smiles, owning the title as Rafe hooks his finger under your chin. "I don't blame him. My girl's perfect," he whispers before meeting your lips.
+++++++++
"This is my favorite part of Game Day, baby," Rafe hums as he tears his shirt off his athletic body. You pinch the bottom of your top, drawing it over your naval. "Lemme," he smiles, stripping you of his old jersey before tossing it to the side, lifting you off your feet. Rafe pulls away only briefly to turn on the water, walking with you to the countertop. It's dim, the perfect amount of light thrown from his open bedroom door. Admittedly, it's your favorite part of Game Day as well: getting this time with Rafe, the two of you unwinding before a night of drinking, the pair of you coming down from his post-game high together.
Rafe sets you down on the cool top, sending chills up your warm body as his hands quickly get to work. One weaves into the nape of your hair while the other grips the plush of your hip. "You know I love you," he whispers as his rough fingers trace over the top of your thigh, disappearing between your legs.
"Of course, Rafe."
"M'not sayin' this to start a fight; m'not callin' you out for anything. Alright?"
"Okay," you giggle nervously. "Is everything okay?"
"More than okay," he grins. You let out a little gasp as he runs two fingers through your wetness, lifting them to his lips tasting you. "You have a crush on my brother. Don't you, sweetheart?" He whispers. Your eyes widen in surprise, lashes fluttering as he calls you out.
"I - Umm... Rafe-"
"I said, 'It's more than okay, honey," he mumbles as his fingers press through your entrance. "You don't believe me?" Your brows knit in confusion as you stare into his beautiful blues. How could Rafe Cameron be okay with this? I mean, he almost got arrested last weekend for a fight after someone bought me a shot. How is he okay with me having a crush on his brother? 'And, it's more than okay?' No way.
"No..." You whisper feebly as your gaze falls to his lips.
A smirk stretches wide, Rafe's breathing increasing with yours. "No, what, princess?"
"I don't believe you," you reply before returning your eyes to his. Rafe pouts his lip teasingly, pumping and scissoring his long fingers.
"Alright..." He shrugs, continuing to tease you. You grip Rafe's thick dick in your hand, rubbing his precum into his swollen tip as he quickens the speed of his hand, thrusting his fingers at an insane pace. "He's got a crush on you." Your pussy tightens around his digits at the sound of his words, making Rafe smile wickedly. "Baby girl..." He mocks as he moves in even closer, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist. Rafe tucks himself into the crook of your neck as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.
"M'gonna cum," you whine.
"You sure, y/n," he whispers against your warm skin. "I don't believe you." Rafe repeats your words as he slows his pace, edging you; prompting you to grind against his palm, craving a release.
"Rafe..."
"Hmm?" He chuckles through a throaty laugh. "S'alright, baby. We share." Rafe baffles you with his admittance as he spears his thick cock into your drenched pussy.
"Rafe!" You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow, buried balls deep, letting you adjust to his size. You cling onto his shoulders, nails digging into his tan skin as he stretches you out. Steam swirls all around the two of you, the room burning with vapor and sex as Rafe walks toward the walk-in show, drawing back the glass door. "This could be a really good night for you," he mutters as the stream of water pours from the spout, washing over your naked bodies.
Rafe's eyes fall down your bare frame, watching as the little rivers of warm water cascade through your dips and curves, glistening over your already dewy skin. His blonde fringe hangs wet on his forehead, framing his beautiful face. You look down as well, eyeing the place where your bodies connect; Rafe's thick cock sheathed deep. "You share girls?' You whisper. Rafe moans as he presses you back into the icy shower wall, forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.
"'Course we do." He starts to pound you into the wall, making you cry out in pleasure.
"And, you want to share me?" You ask, weakly between rough thrusts.
"That not clear?" He rasps, drawing out of your cunt, whirling you around before bending you over, pounding back into your aching core.
"Fuck!" You sob, feeling him deep in your guts. You take hold of his wrists, his hands steadying your hips, clawing into the fat of your ass. Rafe spreads your cheeks, coaxing his cock in slower as he feels you tighten around him again.
"Bounce for me. Yeah?" He groans, slapping your ass before letting you take control. You throw your bum on his cock; cheeks clapping against Rafe's wet skin. Your curves recoil with each slap of his tight body against yours, knees buckling, causing Rafe to chuckle darkly as he watches you go weak on his dick. "Please," you whimper, knowing he won't let you cum until he hears you say it.
"Pretty sure you know what I want to hear, princess," he grunts. "Just tell me you want him. Tell me you want us to share you. Tell me you want his cock and mine, y/n. Let me hear it."
"Rafe."
He winds up, slapping your thigh harshly, making you scream, voice bouncing off of the shower walls. "I want him. I - I want you to share me. Fuck. I want your cock and his." You squeal Rafe's name as you gush around his cock; your entire body shaking as he keeps you standing through your climax.
"I want you to beg," he huffs, tugging your hair, pulling you close, back pressed against his heaving chest, Rafe not letting you come down from your orgasm before he starts working on your next. One arm wraps around your throat in a chokehold, squeezing tightly while the other arm binds around your waist.
"Please."
"No. Not enough," he sneers, constricting your airway with his biceps. Rafe starts rocking in and out. You can feel every ridge and curve of his cock as he gives it to you, slow and deep, making your eyes roll back. You feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of air, but Rafe doesn't let up his hold. "Beg."
Holy shit.
"Please, Rafe. I fucking need it," you pant wearily. "I want to please you both... I wanna feel you-" Your voice trails off as you feel your orgasm building again, vision fuzzy, mind muddled like you could fall to the floor.
"Baby? You got awfully quiet. You a'ight?" He growls; a low tone rumbled against your skin.
"I want you both to ruin me!" You choke out the words. “I'll do anything for your dick. Please.”
"Mmm... Atta girl." Rafe pulls out, taking his time with you as he looks down at you lovingly. He guides your chin, lifting your lips to his. Rafe kisses you soft and slow as you try to catch your breath. You look down at his throbbing dick, the creamy ring of your arousal rinsing off his hardened flesh, ready for more.
"You think your brother wants me, Rafey?" You whisper, biting into your bottom lip as you bat your lashes, playing into his game.
"'Course he does. That bastard always wants what's mine. Lucky for him, we're brothers... N'I play nice." Rafe loops his bicep under your thigh, plunging his cock back in. He rolls his hips deliciously slow, finding that perfect angle that makes tears leak from your eyes. "Gonna fuck that tight little ass of yours, baby. Fill you up," he groans. "We haven't done that yet? You ready, f'me? Think you can handle us both?"
You can't even form words; all thoughts in your mind run wild at the idea of having them. "You're squeezing me so tight, baby... Think you could cum for me again?" He whispers against your ear, teeth, tugging at your lobe as he draws out, slamming his cock back into your pussy. You let out a cry of pleasure, your cracked sob reverberating off the walls. "Gonna have you creamin' on our cocks all night. Just a little whore for Cameron cock, aren'tcha?" Rafe throws his hips again and again as the knot in your stomach starts to twist tighter. You pinch your eyes shut, nodding frantically as you feel your orgasm within reach, completely cock-drunk. "Say. It."
"M'just - Fuck, daddy-"
"M'just what?" He mocks your fucked-out tone.
"A little whore for your cocks. M'just a hole for you, Rafe."
"Ugh. Yes! Fuck. That's my girl. That's it, baby. Cum for me. Yeah? Cum on my cock."
"Fuck…"
"Cum." Your walls spasm around his cock; waves of your finish crashing down on you again and again as you call out his name. Rafe yours as he floods you with his seed. You can feel his dick twitching inside you, your body milking every last drop of his cum.
Rafe's forehead falls to your neck in exhaustion. "Goddamn. I fuckin' love you, honey," he breathes as he kisses his way up your neck. "Mmm… We're gonna take real good care of you tonight, baby," Rafe moans. You can hear the excitement in his voice, matching your own, but you can't help but feel a slight apprehension.
What if this ruins what Rafe and I have?
Your demeanor must have changed because Rafe notices instantly. "Talk to me, princess," he respires as he holds you tight, lips resting on your shoulder as he rocks the two of you lazily.
"I'm a little worried, Rafe. This doesn't really feel like something you'd do with a girlfriend... Someone you wanna end up with. This seems like something the two of you would do with some random girl - maybe a fling. I wanna be with you... I don't see us not being together. I'm crazy about you, Rafe," your voice cracks with emotion, making him expel a soft pity laugh like you have nothing to worry about.
"I've got no doubt in my mind that it'll be us, Y/n. Rafe and y/n...” He pinches the gold "R" he bought you between his fingers. "I'm crazy about you too, baby. You gotta know that. Yeah? Here." Rafe tugs off his gold Cameron Family ring, gliding it on your thumb instead. "I want you to have this, Y/n."
"Really?" You gasp.
"'Course. You're mine. Alright? Tonight doesn't mean I think anythin' less of you, or I'm not serious about our relationship. M'so fuckin' serious, y/n." Rafe pulls out of your pussy, making you wince; his large palm quickly soothes the ache. Rafe turns you into his chest, wrapping his towering frame in yours. "How could I not be serious about you, baby?” He mumbles warmly against your lips. You look up at him, matching his gaze. "S'no question who you belong to, honey. Cam knows you're mine. I had you first. M'gonna have you when he's gone. Alright? Just let us take care of you like you take care of me. A'ight?"
"Okay, daddy," you smile as you rest your hands on Rafe's muscular chest, trying to contain your excitement as you see his ring adorned on your tiny finger. Rafe glances down as well, chuckling to himself as he sees how happy the gesture made you.
"Looks good on you, baby," he croons. "Let's have a good night. Yeah?"
"Let's do it."
++++++++
You start moving your hips to the music; the bass bumps in your chest. Your friend quickly grabs you by your hips, turning you away from her; you start grinding on her. Your hands drift up your thighs, working back down as you roll your body nice and slow. "Where's Rafe?" One of your friends screams over the track. You smile and shrug as you continue to move. "You think you could introduce me to Cam?" She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction. No way.
"Sure," you breathe, brushing her off.
Where are they? Tonight has been fun. Cam is every bit as gentlemanly as Rafe. He asked me about school, my major, and my friends, but it was all very "normal", almost as if that conversation with Rafe in the shower hadn't happened.
Was he genuinely interested in me like Rafe said he was? Or did he change his mind? You look out into the packed college bar; a deep sea of students grinding and moving to the beat. Your dance partner gives you a sloppy kiss on the cheeks before getting whisked away by her boyfriend, leaving you solo again.
The void is quickly filled as your body is claimed by Rafe, taking you from behind. He presses his chest against your back, rough hands working up your bare thighs, resting on your hips. "You look good, baby girl," he groans. "This fuckin' body." His lips meet your neck, kissing and nipping his way to your ear as you grind to the beat. You can feel his rock-hard cock through his jeans, pressed against your ass. His rough fingers move down, drifting lower and lower, making your pulse below. "Bet this pussy's so wet," he groans, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
Rafe applies a little more pressure, pressing his fingers on top of your clothed pussy; rubbing small circles on top. Oh my god. Your body tingles, warmth coursing through your system as you feel little spurs of pleasure between your thighs. You breathe deeply, taking in his cologne, eyes widening when you take in a subtle differences.
This isn't Rafe.
You look ahead, watching as Rafe lifts his red SOLO cup to his lips, his smirk half-seen as he stares you down. He gives you a flirty nod before tossing back the rest of his gin and tonic. You look down at the large set of hands on your body, seeing his twins matching gold Cameron ring on his finger. Cam's body is familiar, the shape of him fitting perfectly with yours, but his hold is heavy, touch not as gentle as Rafe's. His kisses are rough, sending chills up your spine as you rest your hands on top of his, guiding them closer to your sweet spot as Rafe watches on.
Cam's fingers trace your inner thigh, toying with the soaked lace of your panties. "Y/n..." He moans against your skin. You lean back against him, tipping your chin up in his. Your heart skips a beat when you see Cam's face, the sight of him making this all that more real. He looks so good, so fucking good; Rafe's double in every sense of the word, donning a black v-neck instead of a white. His gold chain lays on his chiseled chest, glinting in the laser lights. The only visible difference is his buzzed hair. Cam wets his lip, blue eyes sparkling down on yours.
He pushes your panties to the side, causing you to gasp; Cam quickly claims your lips, stealing your breath. Rafe's brother teases your entrance with the tip of his rough finger, making you whimper on his lips. He draws his hand away, bending you over. You rest your hands on your knees as you throw your ass back into him. Cam's grip tightens on your hips, pulling you closer; the two of you fucking clothed.
Rafe pinches his jeans, adjusting himself clearly, loving what he sees. He calls over to the bartender, yelling for his tab, making your heart pick up pace as you see the plan set in motion.
Cam grabs you by your waist, turning you around; pulling you close to his chest. One hand works around the back of your neck, guiding your focus toward his eyes as his other hand continues to massage your clit. You feel a heat building in your belly, lashes fluttering as you look up at him.
"Rafe said you were a good girl, y/n. That true?" He rasps in a voice just a little deeper than Rafe's.
"I - I'm a good girl," you whimper.
"Then cum for me." Cam pulls you in a little closer as you feel yourself about to lose control. Fuck. Am I gonna cum in front of all these people? You look around, the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd off in their own worlds. "Eyes on me? Wanna see your face, princess. Wanna see my brother's pretty little slut cum on my hand in front of all these people," Cam taunts. He leans in, lips brushing against yours. "Our hands." Ours? You gasp as Rafe grabs you by the waist, plunging two thick fingers between your thighs.  He fucks them into your pussy effortlessly, curling and stroking with precision.
"He told you to cum," Rafe warns.
You grit your teeth, gripping onto Rafe's wrist and Cam's shirt as your orgasm claims your body. The two boys work you through your release. Cam watches you closely, taking in your beautiful features as you cum for him for the first time. Rafe slips his fingers out of your pussy, sucking the mess clean as he always does. "What do you say, brother? Let's get our girl outta here. Hmm?"
Part 2 🩷🩷
455 notes · View notes
tadpolesonalgae · 6 months
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Rhysand x reader: Knocked up[*]
A/N: This 🤝 Rhys just makes me so happy
Warnings: smut, breeding kink😋, slight praise kink I guess?
Word count: 1,163
“Come on…darling…a little deeper…”
He’s pushing the very air from your lungs, cock pressing so deliciously against your walls, filling you from the inside up. A whimper spills from your lips, the pads of your fingers digging into the firmness of his abdomen. Thighs spreading a little wider, muscles spasming as your head lowers, pants puffing heavily from your mouth.
“Rhys…” you breathe, heavenly heat turning you dim. “Rhys…!”
His hand cups your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, star-flecked violet dancing and gleaming. “There you are…a little more for me…yeah…?” His tan skin is flushed, breathing as uneven as your own, equally near the edge. “Think you can sink down…a bit more…?”
You watch through half-lidded eyes as his stomach rises and falls with the depth of his breaths. How fluid he is, blessed with feline grace.
Biting your lip, you slide down the final inch. Pleasure crests over you, resting your entire weight on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you—
“Woah there…”
His hands firmly grip your hip and shoulder, keeping you upright as euphoria knocks you clean from your feet. “Hey…hey, darling…look at me,” Rhys breathes, murmuring to you as you’re pulled from your stupor. “That’s it…there you go…so good, aren’t you…?”
You whimper, rolling your hips over his, both of you hissing at the concentration of pleasure. Hands go slightly limp, steadying yourself as you lean forward, spine curving. “Mmm…Rhysand…” You drag over him, eyes fluttering closed in quiet bliss. His grip tightens, one hand leaving from your shoulder, grasping the soft swell of your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. Flicking over its tip, grazing the crest.
“Feeling good…? Like riding me…darling?” He pants, eyes glued to your joining point, obscene squelching sounds tingling his pointed ears, like lovely silver bells. “That’s it…take it nice and deep…nice and deep…to fill you up…”
A high-pitched moan spills from your lips, gentle and needful, pawing at the soft skin of his stomach, underlined with muscle. “Deeper…take you deeper…” you pant, opening your eyes long enough to search for his hands. You swirl your hips with fervour, small bucks as you pleasurably squirm, having him hit all the good spots.
“That’s it…” he murmurs, fingers linking tightly with your smaller ones, allowing you to cling onto him as you ride his hips. “Such a good girl…aren’t you, darling?” He squeezes your knuckles and a quiet whine bursts from your lungs, spilling into the world, adding to the intimate eroticism.
“Rhys…” you whine, “Rhys…I need you…” A rough moan pulls from his chest, urgent and lustful. “How do you need me?” He breathes, “tell me what you want…” Your hips buck faster, and you flinch, air knocked from your lungs at the wave of pleasure. Lips part as your eyes flutter shut, head tipping upward as you bask in him. “Breed me…” you pant, softly. Quietly. Hardly a whimper.
He grips your hands, a reassuring heat to your nerves, rolling his hips up into you. The world turns foggy, and your body is heated butter, melting beneath the hot press of his fingertips, coating his scar-flecked skin like a protective seal. Like hot wax spilling from a candle, dripping and burning.
“Yeah? Want me to breed you?” He murmurs, watching you with wonder, head resting in the plush pillows of your bed. Teeth find your lower lip, rocking your hips faster, winding over his cock. You nod lethargically, almost drowsily, bucking onto him.
Rhysand groans, raising to meet you, touching deeper, hidden spots that have you tightening around him. Eyes squeeze shut, brow furrowing in concentration. Following the pathway that will lead you both to that wonderful dissipation of tension, pleasure flooding your bodies.
Your lips part in quiet surprise as he targets those spots with heartwarming familiarity. “Rhys…” you pant, “Rhys…!” Breathing becomes shallower, and he drags your hips over his, helping guide you, giving you the strength to move. “Come on…you can do it…give it to me.” The whispered murmurs graze your mind, basking in the swell of his cock as it presses up inside of you. Like you belong together. Perfectly fitted to slot together.
“Do it…give it to me…then I can fill you up…yeah? That’s what you want… For me to spill into you…and stuff you full of my cum…” The filthy words make you tighten around him, and you’ve tipped over the edge. Enjoy the few seconds as you soar to the peak, having taken off on sun-kissed wings. “So good at taking me…” he purrs, violet eyes latching onto yours, dark talons grazing your wobbly shields, tender and sensitive from stimulation. You hit the stars, colliding, sending galaxies spraying, nebulas bursting across your skin. His cock glides against your sensitive walls, dragging so deliciously as you reach your peak.
The moan you release sends him spilling over the edge, spurting into you as he groans, gripping you back as your fingers tighten together.
“So good…so good, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “take everything…every drop…drink it all up. So good.” The pleasure doubles…triples with every caress of him inside of you, feeling the hot, milky liquid spill into you, latch onto you, nestling deep. “That’s it…take all of it…make sure it sticks…” he groans, colour tinting his glistening skin. “Gonna fill you up so good…make sure you carry it…tucked away, to nestle inside that lovely cunt.”
You flutter around him, sporadically bucking your hips in gentle surges, moving whenever your muscles allow you to. “So perfect…doing so well…so good to me, aren’t you?” His fingers squeeze yours through the aftershocks, letting you ride out your pleasure as he grits his teeth. He wants to be gentle with you tonight, so he pushes away that urge to flip you onto your back, to worship your pretty pussy with rough, hard strokes of his cock.
Rhysand moans with you as the waves fade to gentle tingles beneath your skin, settling down on his hips, panting heavily. You move to shift off of him, but he holds you a little firmer. “Can’t have it leaking out, can we?” He breathes, rolling his hips against you. A whimper spills from your lips at the action, squeezing his knuckles as he keeps your hands preoccupied. Thighs too weak to lift off him, you’re unable to move by yourself, remaining sat on top of him, cock pressing deep inside.
“Thought you wanted it to stick, huh?” He purrs softly, thumb stroking over the bone of your wrist. “Wanted to get knocked up…to let it take root?”
Teeth push into your lip, biting it as you wind your hips over his.
You can feel it as he stiffens inside of you, turned on by the slightest stimulation.
Ready for round two.
General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022
Rhys Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger
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atinycafe · 4 months
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[11:37AM] "Hit those pads a bit harder, babe," Yunho says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as your fists, bare and determined, connect with the pads. You dance on your toes, delivering a punch that goes beyond the target, hitting his chest purposefully. You try to pull back, but he playfully holds you in place. "Okay, I'm done playing," you complain, your voice muffled against the black fabric of his compressed shirt. Your boyfriend, a boxer, occasionally brings you to his gym sessions, but today's invitation was for you to take a swing. You expected his usual sweetness, but he's strangely serious. "Come on, tiny, you've got more in you," he teases, but you vigorously shake your head, exhausted and just wanting to lie down. You surrender, collapsing into his arms, making him lift you effortlessly. "Nooooooo," you protest as he drags you towards a nearby bench, kicking and pushing the air dramatically like the playful brat you are. "You're such a kid," he chuckles, settling you down, you continuing your little protest until he shushes you down with his kisses.
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[09:56PM] "Just like that baby, a bit tighter," Yunho whispers near your ear, peering down at the bandage wrapping around his knuckles. You smoothly loop it around each of his lengthy fingers, tucking the end neatly beneath a fold. His hand slips out of your grasp, fingers curling and unfurling as he tests the snugness. With a serious gaze, he evaluates the feel. Anticipation lingers as you hope you've done it right. His eyes lock onto yours, a smile finally breaking across his face. The hand he'd been testing finds its place on your head, a gentle pat following. "You did good." Leaning down, he plants a tender kiss on your lips, silently expressing gratitude.
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[02:09AM] "Why the tears? I won," he chuckles, playfully swiping at your tear-streaked cheeks, his large hand almost covering your face. Your sobs intensify as you notice his left eye, swollen and not crinkling like the other when he grins. He stifles another laugh. "'S not funny, your face's all fucked up!" you stammer through tears, wiping away the droplet of blood from his cut eyebrow. "You should see the other guy," he boasts, puffing out his chest, proud of his victory despite the bruises—turns out, the other guy got the worse end, a full-on knockout. Yet, he's still hurting, and you can't stand seeing him like this. "Shut up," you retort, clamping down on your lip as you give his shoulder a playful punch, eliciting a soft whine. Quickly, you grasp the spot you hit, worried you might have accidentally targeted a bruise. Pushing his shirt down to inspect, Yunho only pulls you closer. "Gotcha"
masterlist | taglist in comments
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astralnymphh · 5 months
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ellie nude hcs yes please. don’t forget to mention them abs and muscles 😩
ellie nude hcs
⋆' aestras footnotes x.
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⋆' a/n; decided to write them. right then and there. lmk your ideas below!! enjoy!! MDNI.
masterlist
⋆' ellie, who sleeps half-nude, always ravages her hoodies in the process of taking them off. gets that excited to feel your skin through and through, big spooning you in bed with her perky nipples grazing the grooves of your back. I think most of the time, her boxers will remain untouched when you're just sleeping. but, feeling horny? now they're chucked to some lifeless corner of the room, and the sticky plush of her pussy is dragging against your butt, one leg hooked over your thighs. humping like a dog, as usual. "hahh– fuck, couldn't wait– mmh, can'i touch you?"
⋆' with her toned abdomen, built from the patrol routes that had her climbing, hauling and lifting, she's fucking eye candy. indirectly flaunting her beautiful abs when you straddle her. you always feel the creases and grooves of her robust muscles contracting and tightening whenever you're feeling her up, gulping firmly and staring you down with those emerald eyes. always has to fondle you back, hands reaching instinctively to your hips, giggling into a kiss.
⋆' a girl who loves having her scars caressed by the pad of your thumbs. kiss them, and she's holding you close, pleating her boxers down to her ankles while keeping steady contact, hot breath choppy in her invigorated state. in particular, the scar on her thigh. brush your lips over it, and she'll nearly start riding your face right away.
⋆' the freckles most viable of seeing them that dot her face, trickle down and strike her skin like a cinnamon constellation. shoulders are the next most freckled area of her body. that's why you love kissing her there, she's gone so sensitive for those nibbles, whimpering little "mmhs–" and "babe, fuck–" when you latch there. her pussy is angrily throbbing at that point.
⋆' happy trail. that's it. never shaves it. perfectly horizontal and framed by a beautifully mild v-line down her hips. thank aphrodite this girl wears low rise to show that auburn trail off.
⋆' speaking of hair, yeah, she's unshaved. pretty little bush under those jeans. spokes out on the top leading to her happy trail. a duller auburn, maybe? she doesn't care enough to get rid of it, it's just hair. just bobby pin it to the back if you got work to do!! (blatant referencing) short length pussy prbly. thats so random but that's what my foresight tells me 🥱 who would even go into details like that? outie.
⋆' has the nicest back to ever grace your eyes. toned to just the right amount, celestial looking in golden light, finely broad shoulders, and always needs a massage. predictably tense. more the type to sit criss-cross with you behind, molding your fingertips into the ductile muscles of her neck, laxing her head back with an "ohhhh, fuck." enlongated groan and husky toned as ever as the tension releases with every grip. don't forget the coral red scratches you marked, scraping up her shoulder blades when she hits that g–spot like lightwork.
⋆' i think she opts out of wearing a bra a lot. so, with that idea grounded, perky nipples. sososooo sensitive. which is bad, cause she hates wearing bras, so any loose clothing has to be worn with a tank underneath. won't admit it, but loves when you suckle on the light pink buds. can't you just imagine, scissoring, you on top, ticklish mouth latched to her nipple, digging your hips into hers, and she's all mouth gaping, limbs twitching at every tongue flick, nearly tearing up when you tug it, blowing pushy air through puffed rosy cheeks, callighraphizing her nails indent into your scalp, pussy getting glossy as hell and pounding her hips back up in quick paced rolls, the delicious tightening of her clit numbing up every cell in her body. the next morning, her chest and legs would ache, reminiscence of last nights actions notched in her bones. also her tits would be so pretty. small, but cute. nipples hardening and poking through the fabric when you touch her. ♡
⋆' as much as ellie loves your ass, getting hers nudged and groped when she's pounding her hips into in missionary stuns her reason more than it should, skin pounding harder together, clenching up at your touch, eyelids faltering shut and mouth clumsily flobbing over curses and praises. "fufufufuhckk, purr–fect puss– mhh, s'good baby I can– shit– uhhuh, hold.. on–!" i wanna eat her ass btw. dc if looks small or flat. have you seen the curve of her back during the nighttime farm scene? argue with the clicker idk.
⋆' knees are probably roughed up from how much she's on top, chafing on the cotton fabric, abrasions and discoloration. doesn't help when she's kneeling for you either though 🤣.
⋆' calloused hands. of course. a touch so soft can feel a bit tough and bumpy, but, they probably feel soo good on your clit. added texture when she palms you with three fingers in deep. and the way her taut fingers peel your legs open, gripping the callouses deep into the plush fat of your thigh, letting go and flattening her palm on the inside of them to keep you open. so hot. probably can't even feel them when she slaps your ass though.
⋆' her tattoo.. bro.. gets so aroused watching her tatted arm flex and twine when she fingers you. she's hovering above you, bicep tucked close to her chest, extending towards your cunt and dipping three fingers in those slobbed folds and thumbing your clit. she drones little whimpers and splits her lips only to mock your variably louder moans, "'oohh, ellie', yeah? that' good? who's fingers in you right now? mhm– ellie's fuckin' fingers."
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eoieopda · 1 year
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Hi Jade 🫶🏻 I have a drabble request if you’re still taking them: Jungkook gets home from tour and is just the clingiest, cutest, softest bf 🙏🏻
yo this idea has me weak 🥲 i hope you like this!
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Judging by the clattering in your kitchen, your jet-lagged boyfriend had finally emerged from his seemingly endless slumber.
You’d been awake for four hours, and out of bed for three. It took longer than expected to carefully untangle yourself from the knot of his limbs, but he slept through your escape. And Bam’s excitement at having an awake parent to play with. And the unavoidable clang of pots and pans as you cooked a breakfast now finally in the hands of its intended recipient - at 2:00 in the afternoon.
You heard the floorboards creak as he shuffled out of the kitchen. His movements were incredibly slow as he padded up the hall to join you in the living room, like all the sleep he’d gotten hadn’t recharged his battery. Also audible was the faint crunch of newly toasted bread, which tugged the corner of your mouth into an involuntary smile.
Jungkook always needed a snack to hold him over until he brought his actual meal to a table. After all, he might waste away in the few moments it would take to make himself a place. You always joked that his stomach was a bottomless pit, but he maintained that he only ate this much when you were the one cooking. And when you scrunched your nose at his flattery, he’d kiss it until your cheeks turned into roses. Then he’d kiss those, too.
Laying on the couch with your legs stretched out across the cushions, your head rested on a plush, velveteen pillow. The heels of your hands were anchored against your chest as you propped up this week’s novel. You had to peek over the top of it to see Jungkook appear in the doorway.
Bleary eyes squinted against sunlight as he looked for you. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up over his hair, but you knew without looking that it was sticking up in every possible direction - which always confounded you due to how deeply he slept. Immovable, powered off completely. His shoulders still carried the weight of his exhaustion; and his cheeks puffed out as he attempted to chew what you assumed was - at minimum - half his slice of toast.
Of all the versions of him, this one was a hard-fought favorite of yours: the silly, sleepy, soft Jungkook. The one that stirred the butterflies in your stomach just by existing, too out-of-it to notice the effect he had on you.
He groaned as he bent over to put his plate on the coffee table. You expected him to take his usual spot at the end of the couch and pull your legs over his lap like he always did. This time, he deviated from the pattern. Not waiting long enough for you to set your book down, he wiggled his head between its bottom and your chest, and then let the weight of his body slump down on top of yours.
You giggled as he slid his hands underneath you and wrapped you up in his arms. With his chest pressed against yours, you could feel his deep, contented sigh as it left him. No longer accessible, you closed your book with an unseen smile and tossed it gently to the rug below. You couldn’t see how it landed, but you hoped it was graceful.
“You left,” He mumbled sadly with his face tucked under your chin. He breathed slowly through his nose; every warm exhale tickled the bare skin of your neck.
Your now-free hands settled into a familiar routine. One rested on his back; the muscles of which, you noted, had become much more defined since he left for tour ten weeks earlier. The other hand pulled back his hood in order to thread fingers through his soft - albeit messy - tresses. Fingernails scratching gently over his scalp, you chuckled, “You had your leg draped over me, pressing into my bladder. When I came back from the bathroom, you were spread out over the mattress like a sleep-deprived starfish.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” He cooed, squeezing you tighter. “The second-worst part about leaving is having to sleep alone. I forget how to share, and then you have to deal with the consequences.”
“Second worst?”
“The only thing worse than going to sleep without you is being awake without you,” he explained it casually, as if it wouldn’t make your heart do somersaults.
But it did, because this soft, sleepy man was yours - he was home - and he said things like that just as easily as breathing.
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moonstruckme · 29 days
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i’ve been craving summer a whole lot lately so i’d love to see what a summer day with tasm!peter would look like if you’re up for it!!
Thanks for requesting my love!
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 705 words
You come home expecting relief, sweaty and smelly and exhausted, but there is none. The apartment you share with Peter is as stifling as it was outside. 
You go straight to the fridge. Maybe there’s some water you can pour over yourself or frozen peas you can shove under your boobs or something. As soon as you pad into the kitchen, Peter’s head pokes through the window to the fire escape. 
“Hey,” he says, sounding about as peppy as you feel. “The A/C’s broken.” 
“I can tell,” you sigh. “Have you texted the landlord?” 
“Texted, called, faxed—he’s definitely ignoring me. I went to his unit, and I’m not sure if he’s out or just hiding, but if he doesn’t respond by tonight I’m going in through his window.” Peter lets his head loll against the window frame, face flushed as he looks up at you. He makes a very pretty puddle. “Kiss?” 
You smile ruefully. “It’s too hot for kissing.” 
He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough. There’s popsicles in the freezer, wanna grab a couple and join me out here?” 
You open the freezer, and your heart inflates like one of those lifejackets they keep on airplanes. Peter—brilliant, considerate, genius Peter—has invested in a giant bag of tube popsicles. You grab a red one for him and a green one for yourself and climb out onto the fire escape. 
“You’re so smart for these,” you say. He grins as you pass him one, taking scissors from the windowsill to cut the top off of yours before doing his own. Your calf rubs slickly against his as you slot your legs in between his own. You don’t mind as much as you should. “Why’re you out here?” 
“The alley gets a breeze,” he explains, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly, the encapsulation of a golden retriever in boy form. A whisper of wind catches in his fluffy hair, just barely ruffling it, but Peter grins like it’s the most satisfying thing in the world. “Feel?” 
“Gimme a sec.” You take the plastic covering of your popsicle between your teeth, freeing your hands to pull the hair off your neck and securing it with a ponytail. The sweat-slicked skin of your nape feels blissfully cool in the air, and your eyes slip closed too as you pull the popsicle from your lips. “Oh, yeah,” you sigh, “I feel it.” 
Peter’s silent, and when you open your eyes he’s giving you a look. Eyebrows raised just slightly, one corner of his mouth tilted up. 
“If you still think it’s too hot to kiss,” he says, “you’re going to have to stop being so hot.” 
You scoff. “Peter,” you say, like come on. “I was just putting my hair up.” 
“And you know what that does to me.” He takes a bite of his popsicle, crunching pointedly. 
“It’s hot,” you complain. 
“It really is,” he replies, with a grin that has you rolling your eyes. 
“I mean that I’m—that my neck is hot.” 
“Again, so true.” 
“Stop it.” You narrow your eyes seriously, pressing your lips together hard to keep them from quirking. “There’s nothing sexy about how miserable it is out here.” 
Peter hums noncommittally, raising one shoulder in a half-shrug before he leans forward to hook his hands under your sweaty knees. You laugh as he hauls you toward him, his knees caging your ribs. He purses his lips, and you succumb yourself to your fate, and then cool air kisses your skin. 
You open your eyes. “What are you doing?” 
“I think it’s pretty obvious,” he says, continuing to blow on your face. “Is it helping?” 
You take a second, letting yourself get used to the feeling of his air soothing over your damp brow. “Actually, yeah.” 
Your boyfriend grins, still puffing out air as best he can through his smile. It brings his sun-kissed cheeks up towards his eyes and makes his lashes kiss. 
You let yourself kiss him right there beside his eye, a token of your appreciation, but that’s not good enough for Peter. He taps your cheek, nudging you towards his lips, until you oblige him. 
“You’re my hero,” you tell him lightly. 
“Yeah, yeah, get in line.” 
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mollymagician · 10 months
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Hob Gadling talked to himself, sometimes. When he was alone.
It was a habit, he’d say in the rare times he’d been caught at it. Silly habit. Just ignore me. Hashing things out with my own self. A white lie. Himself wasn’t who he was hashing anything out with. Hob spoke to his Stranger, sometimes. When he was alone.
There was never enough time in their brief meetings, was there, to package a hundred years worth of the world into words. The great story arcs made the cut, but in between the little stories got told anyway. In any quiet part of the day when he found himself alone, Hob would catch some of the details spilling out of him. He practiced sometimes, the particulars of a good tale he was afraid he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t keep it all, but maybe, he thought, his Stranger could hear him. Sometimes.
A centuries-long habit, one he had despaired of ever breaking, though he’d realized recently that he wasn’t doing it anymore.
Because the thing was, when hob spoke to him aloud-spoke to the idea, the wish of him-over all those centuries, it was always as though he hovered just over his shoulder. A quiet aside to an imagined presence that could in truth be anywhere, but somehow lived in his mind and heart just behind and to the left of him, only just out of sight.
It takes him a little time to realize that this is where Dream stands now, more often than not— when he follows Hob up the stairs from the pub in the evenings after they’ve had too much to drink, laughing, a steadying hand planted between Hob’s shoulders— when he followed him, all newly human, into Situations and Experiences that Hob was determined he try—when he pads up silently beside him in the dim early morning kitchen, to wrap his arms around Hob’s middle. Like today.
He seems to have found that spot, a patch of reality worn threadbare by hundreds of years of quiet longing, and slipped into it unknowing.
“How did you know that was there, hm?” Hob murmurs drowsily, tea kettle in one hand and eyes barely open. “That spot was just for you.”
Dream rested his chin on one warm shoulder and hummed. They swayed a bit, half-asleep.
Dreams breath puffed against his ear (real. real now) and murmured, “Thank you for saving me a place.”
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Text
Barbed. Yan!E.Jack x Reader. Cw: Mentions of blood, mild physical harm, suicidal ideation, talk about death.
It was barbed. Jack's tongue, dragging slowly across your throat in a consistent pattern, was painfully barbed, much more so than any regular cat. The barbs were longer, thicker, and more dangerous than any regular feline's, and they served as a reminder of the predator that had you trapped in its literal claws. Said claws were currently dangerously close to digging into your back, as the pads on his palms and fingertips gently pressed into you, you could feel the pointed tips of his claws twitching above them, twitching in excitement as he dragged his tongue along your skin.
He said it always calmed him down, and so it had become a nightly routine in your imprisoned house to lay down and allow him to lick at your most vulnerable area for attack. The smell of your blood, the taste of your flesh, it tempted him and satisfied him at the same time, and it always caused your heart to race in fear as he held you down. A growled purr slipped out of him as he continued to lap at your skin, and you shivered underneath him, his claws poking into your skin.
"Don't you want to eat me?" Your question is timid but brave. You rarely speak at these times, and it's even rarer for you to ask such a question, but you feel a numbness spreading over you tonight that pushes you to ask the thing that's been on your mind since he kidnapped you all those months ago. His tail swished behind him, the fur coating it puffing up in mild annoyance at you interrupting him.
"…Yes. But, I won't. It would be a waste to eat you, unless in small portions." His words were said in a bluntly honest tone, and it only further spread your numbness. His hands traced over them, those bandaged bitemarks on your body that were the 'smaller portions'. You swallowed deeply. He would always answer anything you asked him, even if it annoyed him or he didn't want to. He resumed licking at your neck, and you sighed beneath him.
"If you wanted to eat me, would you kill me? Eat all of me?" An even bolder question poured from your lips, dripping in disguised venom and apathy. He licked firmly at your throat at that, dragging off a layer of your skin as he went intentionally, warning you.
"No." His voice was firm, and he pulled back to stare at you with his eyes that could only see you by your heat signature (an unfortunate thing when trying to hide from him), you swallowed nervously as you stared up at him, his claws sinking deeper into your back.
"I don't know why you're feeling so inquisitive tonight, but you're pushing it." His tail swished angrily behind him, his ears perched back in annoyance. You didn't know why, but you felt the need to not back down.
"I'm just curious, is all. Considering my life is in your hands, and you've already tasted me before." He growled lowly at your statement, not appreciating your attitude, and he leaned back down to continue licking at your skin, trying to calm his heightened nerves.
You wanted to push him one more time, for all of the things he'd put you through.
"I think it would be nice, to die. To be freed from these shackles."
"Stop it."
"Perhaps in death, I could be outside again, and run through a field all by myself."
"Stop it."
"I could finally be away from you. Although I'd be trapped with you forever, you'd like that. I'd be inside of you since you'd eat all of me, and I'd be a part of you."
"Stop it!"
"The release of death just sounds so wonderful, to be granted release from all of this--"
"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT THIS MOMENT!" He screamed at you louder than he ever had before, and for the first time in a while, you felt fear coursing through you as he grabbed onto your shoulders, sinking his claws deep inside of you.
"YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING ME! YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE, YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING MY SIDE, YOU ARE NEVER GETTING AWAY FROM HERE!" He continued to scream, his demonic tones coming out, causing you to tremble beneath him, and as tears and a stray whimper left you, he snapped back into focus. He took one of his bloodied hands from your trembling shoulders and stroked your cheek, gathering your tears as they mixed with the blood on your skin. He leaned down, licking the tears and newly added blood from your face, before nuzzling into you gently.
"You know I don't mean to scream at you, Little Rabbit. You just… You just kept pushing me, and you know I get worked up when you discuss these topics." He spoke as though he was chastising a toddler about stealing a cookie from a jar, and you laid beneath him, numbness replaced with the bitter fear you'd forgotten these last few weeks. He leaned away from you, looking at your face again, and he said your name in a firm and serious tone.
"Do not ever speak like that again. I will not allow you to die, and I will not allow you to leave me, do you understand me?" His face was cold and firm, deep-seated anger he was holding in dancing on his features.
"…Yes, I understand." Was your quiet answer as you shrunk under his gaze, averting your eyes so you didn't have to stare at him anymore.
"Good. Now let me bandage you up, I don't want your body getting infected." He pulled you up forcefully, dragging you to the medical area of your prison-like house.
He would clean you with his mouth, taking stray bites here and there, but he would bandage you and disinfect you as best he could, and you would heal. You would heal, and this cycle would repeat again and again until the day you finally died. A day you wished would come sooner rather than later.
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yanderederee · 10 months
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DoubleDate,
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May 14th, 2004
Before! › here! › after!
You’d admired Baji for a long time now.
He was scary, and strong enough to do anything he put his mind to. He prioritized those important to him, and took everything involving his loved ones very seriously. He was gentle to creatures weaker than him, and took them under his protection. Baji was sincere and dedicated in everything he did.
Baji Keisuke wasn’t a bad guy. And you loved him so much.
Baji had a hard time coming to terms with how he felt about you.
But he couldn’t push down the wonderment you always left him feeling after an encounter. You were his friend, no question. But you were so fragile. Meeker than the punks he usually rode with. The way you unintentionally got yourself lodged into his plans to easily...
Kei never thought he’d be one to really admit it, but you’d successfully stolen his heart. Days would pass without any interaction. “Dude, invite her out or something. It’s summer break, you won’t see her for another month.”
“I didn’t even say anything?” Baji glared questionably at his blond friend.
“Didn’t have do. You’ve been mopping around all week. Probably since-“
“Chose your next words carefully Matsuno,” Baji cut in monotone. Chifuyu puffed his cheeks. “Fine fine,” he backed off, stretching from his previous spot as Peke J’s human bed. “See ya then.” He waved off, throwing his bag over his shoulder and headed to the door.
“Oi! What for?” Baji complained.
Sure he had a lot of better shit he could be doing with his time. He could go to Akihabara for the weekend while his mom was gone. He could ride out anywhere he really wanted to and enjoy the summer time he earned. That you helped him earn.
“Why, thought you were too busy moping around to notice.” Chifuyu poked without malice. After, he quipped his brand new phone out with a wide grin. “And if you’re ever so curious, Y/nnchan just asked if I want to meet at the cat cafe.~”
The first division captain stared at his vice underling with a deep mix of expressions. He could identify one of those complicated feelings as hurt, but he didn’t dwindle it. You asked to hang out with Chifuyu? Baji looked over at the vibrant screen, barely making out your name. Pink and blue bubbles littered the screen. “When did you get her number in the first place?”
“Not too many of the guys have phones, so Mom, Ryoko and Y/n are my only contacts right now.”
Baji suddenly really wanted a cellphone.
“So, you coming or what?” Chifuyu asked, throwing Baji a balled up pair of black socks. “Why would I come?” He grumbled out.
“Cause she asked me to invite you~” Chifuyu grinned wickedly. His heart stopped for a moment.
“Hurry up or I’m gonna tell her you bailed!” Chifuyu yelled before darting out of the apartment. “Damnit! Hold on you son of a bitch!”
..
When the two managed to get to the cat cafe, they were already ten minutes early for the agreed meeting time. “Oh, party of three? Booth 9, enjoy!” The waitress purred once they entered. Confused, they looked over and saw your relaxed form peeking over the menu, already being used as a resting pad for two adorable felines.
“You’re early!” Chifuyu laughed when he was first to enter the booth. “Chi! Yeah, haha, I was here when I texted you actually.” Cute. Eyes darted over to Baji, happiness spread across your features. “Kei! So happy you came!”
Baji avoided making eye contact, sure to out himself shy if he would. “The hell? Cute~,” Chifuyu laughed again, his comment clearly coming off as more than friendly. Baji felt heat prickle his ears at this point. Was he trying to provoke him?
You laughed at Chifuyu’s comment, and held the menu out to the both of them. “I ordered a few appetizers already, the frushi is actually the specialty of the day!” You chirped along the menu with excitement.
Well, if nothing else, Chifuyu wasn’t a liar. You really were so cute. A little weird and outgoing, but so, undeniably cute.
“I’ll probably get an order of gyoza.” Baji thought out loud, lazily holding the menu in front of him.
Chifuyu ordered a blue ramune shouldered over a light lemonlime soda.
Baji ordered a black cherry soda with a subtle vanilla cream mix rested at the bottom.
And after much deliberation, you decided on a rich brown sugar milk tea.
“It’s a little surprising how much cats love you, Kei.” You admitted. “No kidding, strays far and wide can’t get enough of him. Baji actually always leaves his bedroom window open for—” Chifuyu went along praising his captain, ultimately leading to his embarrassed captain to cut him off abruptly.
“Oh yeah!! Didn’t you say you had a cat, Chi?” You asked.
“Oh yeah, Peke J! He’s adventurous, and visits with Baji more than he’s actually home. I bet he’d really like you.”
Baji just couldn’t put his finger on it. Chifuyu was just being friendly, yet somehow he was getting under his skin like never before. “Yaknow, Baji and I actually talked about opening a pet shop in the future!”
You beamed at the news, gaze fluttering between the two delinquents, blushing at your presence and praise. “A pet store?” You asked nibbling on a gyoza.
Chifuyu glanced over at Baji, hoping he’d jump into the conversation. This was his role after all, the perfect natural wingman. Chifuyu was certain Baji was grateful for his awesome pseudo-date plan. Unfortunately, Baji only saw the situation for its surface level; Chifuyu was blatantly flirting with you for the both of them, Right in front of him.
Baji glared a little bit, and shrugged. “Nah, Mikey‘s talkin about seriously applying himself to motor racing. Sounds sweet,” he grinned his canines.
Chifuyu gaped at his answer. Was he trying to look cool? Was he seriously That oblivious to romantic ques?
Yet, ever the same look of amazement, you smiled back. “Motor racing?! I totally forgot that’s like, your guys’ thing, motor bikes!” You visibly prickle with excitement. “I’ve never been close to one actually. They’re really loud and kinda scary from what I see, but you guys use them all the time right?”
The both of them gaped at your reaction. “They seem pretty cool.” You laughed almost awkwardly, Almost as if to let out a hint, but ready to retract at any sign of uncomfortability.
Chifuyu looked at his captain, the stars glaring over his vision obvious. “Baji’s bike is sick! A Suzuki GSX250E! With an attached second seater. He won’t admit it but he saved up a bunch so I could ride alongside him to Toman meetings.” He praised his captains generosity openly again.
“Yer full of shit,” Baji laughed, “I had that thing way before you.”
“How thoughtful! Chifuyu’s pretty new to the gang, so you haven’t saved up enough for a bike yet, right?” You asked Chifuyu, the eye contact you shared making Baji feel a little … possessive? “I’m doing very good saving up for one!” Chifuyu perked up, eager. The only other person he could brag these hobbies with was Kazutora, after all.
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“You have a bike model in mind?” You asked, tilting your head as you allowed an all white rag doll cat affectionately demand your attention. Baji rose a brow, your choice of words making him curious. “How much you know about bikes?”
You giggled sheepishly, hiding your face in the cats fur. “J-just a little. I just, got a little curious, s-so I learned a few neat facts,” you waved this off quickly, and drew the attention back to one of them. “I really don’t know much besides what a book would tell you. Are you trying to shop for speed or style?”
To you, it seemed like a genuinely honest and curious question. To them, they had finally found something to hold over your smart little head. Something they knew all about, and for you to be clueless!
..so why were you asking such difficult questions after that?
“Baji goes for speed. I’m thinking as long as I can keep up, I might as well aim for something flashy!” Chifuyu admired with pride.
“Oi, don’t talk down about my Goki like that! It looks cool as hell,” Baji kicked the blonde affectionately.
“Actually, that makes me wonder, how do you guys even get these bikes? They’re like, triple digit thousand yen. Do you all just have jobs or something?” You asked while more felines covered what was visible of you.
Chifuyu plucks one of the cats what began to claw biscuits into your exposed skin, and cradled it in his arms lovingly. “Well,” Chifuyu began, looking over to Baji. He could answer better, anyway.
Baji struggled, stuffing his face with a third gyoza. “My bike didn’t really ride when I first found it. A real piece of junk. But I brought the pieces to Shin and asked if he could make it drivable.”
“Guess it wasn’t in that bad o’f shape. Polished up the framework and helped put the parts together, baby was driving the next two months.”
“So Mikey’s brother spotted you the cost to restore your shitty bike?” Chifuyu teased. “Asshole! I paid with physical labor for that bike!” Baji pushed.
Putting the context clues together, you asked without filter, “Sounds like a nice guy, helping you restore a bike so willingly. Maybe he could give you tips, Chifuyu.”
The atmosphere got deathly quiet.
No one wanted to say anything, evident on Baji’s hardened expression and Chifuyu being visibly nervous. “He’s since passed,” Baji said finally, no indication to continue.
“Sorry to hear,” you say quietly, briefly lowering your head in a condolence fashion. “Based on how you speak of him, Mikey seems to take after him. What does he drive?” You asked, intentionally sweeping the rough atmosphere away.
Baji looks you over, noticing your solid posture as you handled the tense answer he just gave. He was used to people acting nervous around him if he wasn’t careful. But he liked feeling as though he didn’t need to make his words appear kinder, when he simply didn’t want to talk about it. Baji really liked the way you always made him feel…
“A Honda. CB250t.” Baji answered without much reluctance. He didn’t mean to come off prickly and shift, but the pause insinuated otherwise.
You seemed to think something over in your head, before a cat pounced to get your attention, making you shriek with laughter.
“Sorry sorry,” you apologize to the jealous cat, divvying out a generous handful of treats. This distraction seemed to serve as a middle point of the lunch. Drinks were about finished, food demolished, and the sun was still high in the sky.
Chifuyu yawned, and stretched his limbs. “Way too nice to just go back home though,” he admitted, tossing his head over to Baji. “What’s everybody else doing?”
Baji reciprocated the yawn, and rested his head on the back of the chair. His eyes were focused on you as you played so joyously with the cats. He couldn’t get over just how cute he thought you were. He’d be damned if he said that out loud though.
Not realizing he had went silent, Baji lost himself in through, gaze softened your way. He was so used to his obnoxious glasses blocking this lovestruck look, he found himself doing it again without them.
Chifuyu took note of this, getting mild second hand embarrassment from how obvious Baji was.
Chifuyu wanted to feel grateful that, at least, you were too distracted by the cats to notice his captain’s affectionate stare. Except, when he glanced over at you, Chifuyu saw a twinkle of something in your eye. You knew Baji was staring at you. And by acting as though you don’t notice, you soak in the unintentional affection, with a blush and a smile.
Chifuyu felt his heart rate Racing at this point. This was The Most silent, yet intense, atmosphere of backhanded flirting, without so much as eye contact to fuel the flames.
The waitress had made her rounds by this point, emptying the table of everything, and asking for you three would like anything to go. “I’d like to order two cakes, and three lemon iced teas please! One yuzu, rose, and lavender.” You agreed, while Chifuyu added a specialty lemonade on the to go order.
“I don’t have anything else to do,” you admitted while the three of you gathered your bearings and cuddled your final goodbyes. “Any plans?” You asked, giving no credit to Chifuyu’s exact same question that’d went ignored earlier.
Baji shruggled. “Nah. All that talk about bikes for me itching to ride, though.” He smirked.
Baji liked you, he really did. This whole time, he had made an effort to push you to not get too close. But this moment, covered in cat hair, disheveled and smiling so affectionately. Baji couldn’t help but ask,
“How bout it? You think modified bikes are cool, how bout taking a ride on one?”
The way your face lights up at this blinded the two delinquents. “Really?!” You asked, clearly excited. “Well don’t get all misty eyed!” Baji blared back embarrassed.
Once the three of you had gotten your to go orders, you all made way back to their apartment complex. Forcing a stop by Chifuyu’s unit first, since it was two floors below Baji’s.
Even when Baji made effort to leave immediately, you swiped him away, since you were mid conversation with the mother of the house. Chifuyu sighed, a little embarrassed. “She probably thinks y/n’s my girlfriend, she always jumps to conclusions like that.”
It was quiet when Baji didn’t give a reaction. He’d planned on simply waiting patiently for you to finish. You chatted this same way with his own mom the first few times you met.
“Guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” Chifuyu whispered by accident. Your conversation with Chifuyu’s mom died out from Keisuke’s ears, the only thing he could register was Chifuyu’s admission.
He knew he was overthinking it, so like everything else, he pushed the thought down, even if it did bother him.
“Well, I wanted to drop off the lavender tea and cake! I’m glad to know you’re well!” You went to wave your goodbye. “Finally we can go!” Baji grinned, hyping up his spirit to ride. “Not so fast,” you shook your head at him. “Still gatta drop off the cake and tea I got for your mom!”
Baji was stunned once again. He really did try having patience with you, but damn were you making it difficult. Without argument though, the two boys followed you to the sixth floor.
“Y/n!! I’m so happy to see you,” Ryoko sighed with contentment when you were successfully tucked under her arm in a big hug. “Jeez, glad she doesn’t greet me that way,” Baji mumbled to Chifuyu, who laughed in response. “Cake and tea? I knew you were my favorite kid,” she took a sip of the yuzu lemon iced tea.
“Hate to remind you I’m an only child, hag,” Baji bit back. “Gonna change; the cat hair’s starting to get on my nerves.” He rolled his eyes, leaving Chifuyu with the girls. “So, how’s my second favorite kid?” Ryoko asks with comical volume, aimed in Chifuyu’s direction. Chifuyu chuckled at the muffled “Oi!” that came from Baji’s room before holding up the keys to Baji’s Suzuki.
“She’s never been on a bike before, so Baji’s gonna take Y/n riding before the meet up tonight.” Chifuyu relayed the nights events to follow. “You havent!?” Ryoko gasped. “Oi, Kei! You be careful!” She yelled seriously, sashaying over to the spare coat closet. “Do you have an extra helmet?” She asked, earning an annoyed grunt from her teenage son.
“Yes, I have an extra helmet-“ he tried agreeing with her, “is it clean?” She asked, making Baji pause his response. “…Who was the last to wear it again?”
Ryoko sighed, and pulled down a dark purple cycle helmet. “Please wear this,” she asked you, holding the sturdy plastic into your hand. “I used to wear it when I’d go out riding. ‘Long as you and Kei stay friends, use it for me, alright?”
Needlessly sentimental, you hugged her as you’d accepted the helmet before your exit.
And just the expert of shooing those things away, you changed the subject while finishing the last few drinks of your rose tea. “Where do you usually park a bike?” you asked, aware that parking one’s bike at home can be dangerous. “Theres a cheap parking garage down the street.” Baji nodded in the direction of the garage when the turn came up.
Once making it in, the three of you circled the bike in admittance. “It’s nice,” you hummed, modestly squatting to checkout the details of the bike. “Doesn’t hurt to touch right?” You asked.
Nervously, Baji squats beside you and makes a gesture to show it was fine to do so. Ever so gently, you traced your fingers along the exhaust pipe, as though you would peel away the metal to look further inside. Quietly, you hummed, and examined the parts most visible. “It’s big though, I don’t think my feet can reach the peddle..”
Both Baji and Chifuyu laughed. “You thought i was gonna just let you ride my bike like that?” He asked as though it wasn’t even a consideration. “Huh? Is that not what you meant earlier?” You asked, embarrassed. Baji laughed again, barely making it to his feet.
“You dork! I was just gonna drive you around some backroads.” He ruffled your hair roughly. You gave a sheepish “oh” before looking away in embarrassment. “W-well, that’s fine.” You said, a little shyer this time. Chifuyu’s eye glinted from your wit.
Chifuyu could read you like the back of his hand, a feat Baji was clearly oblivious to. By acting shy, you automatic light a flame of nervousness under Keisuke’s idea of a platonic activity. You were hinting at the exposure—tiptoeing that line of flirtation neither of you quite crossed.
And Baji fell for your tricks like a lovesick fool, suddenly bashful and confused for as to why.
“What ‘bout you Chi?” You asked, lining the scene with a comfortable middle ground between both boys. Body language gave away you still tried including Chifuyu, as to not kick him out as an unnecessary third wheel.
“Kinda itchy with cat hair, honestly. Think I’m gonna take a shower and check out what Ryusei’s doing. Catch ya later?” He asked.
It was Chifuyu’s turn to finally let go of the reins; he’d secretly initiated the date, lead the conversation, and got you two to this point. His job was complete. Satisfied, he turned to walk away. “Wait,” you pulled on Chifuyu’s sleeve, subconsciously making the boy lean into your cupped hand. “Thanks for today, means a lot to me.” And with an innocent kiss to the corner of his lip and cheek, you doddled back to Baji, who’d bucking his heel against the kick Stand.
Chifuyu wouldn’t stop thinking about that chast kiss you gave him. How soft it was. How precise your movemeets were— you had Meant to kiss him where you had. Not enough to consider romantic, but definitely a forewarning that it could have been. He was swimming in those thoughts, even when he watched you and Baji plow down the street happily.
Was he seriously falling in love with his Boss’s crush?
… you are here… › next:BikeDate1! › …
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396 notes · View notes
mytaiyakeylover · 11 months
Text
i just want to cuddle.
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synopsis: all your super clingy and adorable boyfriend wants is for you to give him some attention.
pairing: mikey x gn!reader
a/n: this is my first time writing something on tumblr. i’ve only recently begun to use this platform, but i hope you’ll like this little one-shot🥰
warnings: none, just plain fluff and mikey being his usual overly dramatic self.
word count: 1.1k
series masterlist | next
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Manjiro sighed, a pout slowly forming on his lips. It had already been four hours. Four goddamn hours and you still haven’t as much as glanced in his direction. He just couldn’t help it. Did you not love him anymore? It sure as hell seemed to be that way considering the amount of time you were willing to spend doing math.
The boy groaned loudly, hoping to get your attention. He then closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh that conveyed his utter agony. Two minutes passed, then five, and finally six.
Manjiro peered at your silent figure through his lashes, his right eyebrow twitching in annoyance at the lack of attention he was receiving. How could you be so indifferent? After all, your boyfriend was lying sprawled on your bed in the same room where you were doing homework, and all you had to do was ask him if he was okay.
The blond puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you. Another set of five minutes went by without any progress. You just continued to stare at that stupid, demon-like book, filled with evil spells and, perhaps, even guides on how to steal a gang leader's lover.
“(Y/n)-chan~!” The boy whined, hitting his knuckles against the soft cushion, looking very much like a five year old. You hummed in response, not quite acknowledging him so it seemed.
That’s it. Manjiro couldn't tolerate it anymore. It was seriously starting to get on his nerves. All the blond wanted was for you to come and cuddle him, not lying on this cold and empty bed as some cursed book was stealing all your attention from him. It was about time you made a decision.
Muttering a few curses for having to leave the comfortable bed, he quietly padded towards you, who seemed far too occupied with studies to acknowledge him. Carefully placing his chin atop your shoulder, he wrapped his arms around your waist and peered curiously over the worksheets. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't interested in the content in the slightest. The blond simply wanted to know what could have been so interesting that it made you ignore him for several hours straight.
He nudged your cheek, quite similar to the way a dog would whenever it wanted some attention from its owner. However, his nudge seemed to be a bit more awkward since his nose wasn't as long, causing his forehead to hit you slightly as well. You sighed at his stubbornness, tilting your head slightly to his side to make eye contact.
Manjiro was sporting his famous puppy dog eyes, a look reserved only for you and Ken. He released his grip on your waist and reached for the fabric of your hoodie, giving it a gentle tug. His pout deepened, and his bottom lip jutted out to make his point.
“Jiro~,” now it was your turn to whine. “I'd love to cuddle with you, but you know how important school is to me.” You blinked your eyelashes at him innocently, trying to coax him into waiting just a few more minutes. Manjiro could easily tell by your expression, as well as the lilt in your voice, since it was just slightly more sugar-coated than usual.
The boy shook his head in defiance, refusing to fall for that act again. You literally said the same thing an hour and a half ago. Did school really mean that much more to you than him?
“Forget school (Y/n)-chan,” he huffed, ignoring the appalled look you gave him as those words left his mouth. “Am I not more important?”
Manjiro was looking at you expectantly, eyebrows arched as he awaited your reply. The fact that you took so much time to answer did not deter him whatsoever, as he found the confusion in your pretty (e/c) eyes too adorable to make him angry. You were obviously taking his question very seriously, which you should, as Manjiro himself was not joking around. He did, in fact, want an actual answer from you.
“Of course you are, Jiro,” you spoke softly, eyes tinged with a hint of guilt that made Manjiro’s heart skip a beat. Perhaps you had taken his question a bit too seriously. Your hand went up to cup his cheek, eyebrows furrowing while doing so.
“I just want to achieve a stable future. I'm sorry if I've accidentally neglected you,” you said as the blond leaned into your soft, yet cold palm. He sighed contentedly, despite the coolness of your fingertips against his warm skin. Your hands always seemed to be so cold, even during the hottest days of summer.
A smile soon grazed his lips, onyx eyes twinkling with mischief. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with kisses as his hands once again snaked around your waist. Giggles escaped your lips as the boy suddenly lifted you, forcing a squeak out of you in the process.
Manjiro laughed at your reaction, finding it exceptionally cute. The blonde continued swaying with you back and forth until you both ended up falling onto the mattress. Snickers filled the room, your cheeks equally flushed as if you were completely drunk on each other.
Then he tightened his arms around you slightly. His forehead resting on yours as he held you trapped against the bed. “Jiro, get off, you’re heavy,” you gasped, words mixing with giggles.
“No more school, you got me?” He asked instead, that same pout from before reappearing on his face. Then, the boy repositioned both of you on the bed, laying you down more comfortably beside him. His arms were still securely wrapped around you, preventing any escape.
Manjiro closed his eyes after that, sighing dreamily as he inhaled your heavenly scent. Lips quirked up slightly as he felt your thin nimble fingers stroke his long ash blonde locks. Your angelic voice reached his ears as you started humming some song you had recently heard and grown to love.
As your lovely singing began to fade, Manjiro’s heart finally found a steady pace. For the first time since he had entered your room, did he realize that those four hours were worth the wait. Well, as long as he would get to keep you in his embrace afterwards.
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vampiretendencies · 1 year
Note
hi love :) idk if your requests are still open but if they are.. ik you’ve done so many physical touch blurbs with jj but i just need more lmaooo. like it could be whatever you’d like, i just need some clingy, touchy, jj yk?
hope you’re having a great day ! remember to take your time and eat some good food <3
warnings; fluff
pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader
authors note; i present to you early weekend mornings with mr. maybank himself, i don’t make the rules
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There’s a measly draft, whisting in the whole of the shared bedroom. It’s distant, acquired a sort of eerie presence that JJ was foreign to. So dauntingly cold— enough to raise goosebumps and he wasn’t one to get those.
No, not with your body warmth. It’s the last thing he goes to bed too, and the first thing he wakes up to in the morning.
Especially with lack of clothing, he falls to slumber in nothing but his boxers. And, you do so in the smallest of panties and a bralette of some sort. There’s something so satisfying about drifting to sleep at the hands of the other with little to nothing close to nakedness— inside and out.
His puffed out morning cheeks are grumpy, met with linen sheets and a dip in the open space where you should be laying. The more he lies here thinking you’ll be back within seconds, is the more he trembled uncontrollably. For even the weighted comforter could not bring him the familiar snugness you did.
He’s defeated now, aware that without you in this bed next to him he won’t be falling asleep. His real questions have been ‘where are you?’ and ‘what the hell is taking so long?’. You obviously weren’t in the bathroom, it’s feet away and the dimly lit light was off, door having the slightest crack showing no trace of you— and that’s so fucking disappointing.
“Ugh!”
His rasp-ridden voice carries, he does so purposefully because he knows you’ll hear it down the hall— the only explanation for as to where you could be at this given moment is in that vicinity. Kitchen or living room.
With one twirl of the blanket, his muscular frame is throwing the white comforter over his shoulders, crinkling the entirety of the sheets that were tucked in at one point before. Sinewy arms portruded outward to keep his shivering body intact.
JJ would like to believe that this is a near death experience.
Because he is compelled by your affectionate touch— making everything feel painless.
He is so insufferable.
For the complaining and whining that you know is about to ensue, has already caused an eye roll; with continued grunts and loud coughs the whole while he travels in search of you. He drags the comforter that’s wrapped around him on the hard wood oak floor, scuffing it and corrupting the pure white fabric with pelts of debris.
Catching glimpse of your figure with a spatula in hand, flipping at what he deemed to be french toast. Cinnamon invaded his senses, such a sultry taste he could almost taste it without even eating it. But, that’s not important right now.
Your tender skin peeks through your usual morning attire so amorous and ardent, his knees are about to buckle.
Christ. You looked so heavenly.
But, that’s not important right now either.
He hopes to grin, but he doesn’t as he remembers you left him feeble and lonesome this morning. His pout deepening whilst he approaches you. You don’t gaze from the the soaked bread, the waddle of his padded feet giving him away.
It’s so unfair that you left him so early and sulking in a melancholy manner.
The weighted material that was over his shoulders, he drops— he no longer needs that solace anymore, he wants the one in front of him. It collides in a pool on that same floor, JJ didn’t necessarily care about the fact that the bedroom set comforter is splattered with dirt that was unseen, it was just a ploy really— to get to you.
His hands palm at your hip bones, shaping smooth figure eights with his index finger. He pushes you so flush against the stove you think you might fall head first into the pan with the saccharine breakfast. Rocking the two of you, in steady rhythms. Nothing is ever close enough for JJ, he’d live in your brain if you let him. Take your rich blood maybe wear it around his neck. Perhaps if you wouldn’t be able to touch him physically then you’d be touching close to his heart— the one that beats for you. Thinking maybe he can just settle for that, toppling the weight of his entire body onto your back, his cheek smushed against your shoulder. Boxers hanging low on his structured waist, nearing his v-line, he’s flat there, allowing you to feel all of him.
“You left me,” his voice is stained with a pout, and muffled from his breaths against your shoulder.
Oh, you wanted to melt into him, let him carry you back to the bedroom. Though, you’ve wasted almost an hour this morning trying to figure out this damn french toast recipe, practically drooling in your sleep for something more filling than cereal. JJ could live off the stuff, however you think it’s about time either of you learn how to cook. After all, there is no personal sous chef in this apartment.
His sullen look continues, because this is just not enough. He aspires to feel you in his veins, injecting you, flowing through, and giving him this strength of outlasting indulgence no other could. Every exhale and inhale should be your air, shared with with him. Call it overly clingy, whatever, the man is just overly consumed by you. Alike, you were a radiant opening to a world he had yet to discover, once he stepped foot into that world he couldn’t compensate for turning back.
“Got up to cook us some real breakfast,” you giggle, despite this not being a laughing matter to JJ whatsoever. Making things go stale.
His cheek left your shoulder— squish-able at best. His arms elongate further, pulsating with bulging muscles, swallowing you in his hold with a wrap of his arms around your waist. Hands meeting at your front, interlocking and resting there. The nape of your neck seemed neglected, it was almost a trance that he touch it. Bits of flyaways there from the remainder of your hair being tied up. His sweet lips manage a light sleepy kiss to the space, it’s slow and a bit wet from being half awake. Your insides erupt into a fit of giddiness, millions of uneasy jitters swarming your insides. You have yet to get use to his hold or his kiss, feels just like the initial time though somehow it’s worsened as your love for him picks up pace with every growing hour. He presses another whilst you attempt to flip the sugary bread on its pale side, spatula scooping beneath.
A part of you has this inkling that there will be no syrupy french toast to dive into during these early hours.
“Don’t want food,” he breathes, lips moving to another crevice of your neck now, nose catching a waft of your emphatic scent. He nuzzled his nose there, letting it linger like he needed feel it within the centres of his bones. His next swift movement catches you off gaurd, flipping the heat notch on the stove off, and forcing the spatula out of your hands. “Want you.”
Before you can comprehend, he’s spinning you on your heals and you wriggle in his grasp, seating you atop the kitchen island the granite sending a tremble down your spine.
“JJ?! M’fuckin’ hungry!”
You gesture at the meal that you were ready to scarf down behind him. And his pout is now glimmering with a toothy, tip-lipped grin, your face is stoic trying to pretend as if you don’t like it.
“I’ll order us something, yeah?”
With a cross of your arms, he’s standing between your legs at eye length and he swore someone kicked at the backs of his knees the way they want to give out, rendering him a nothingness of putty at the sight of you. Large hands grasping so tight to your inner thigh, his nails would surely leave the shape of crescent moons— he’s trying to contain himself.
You can’t believe the fiending boy before you— eager to readmire every centimeter of you for the better part of his day, keeping him continuously high.
“No J, you came in and interrupted me, there’s perfectly good food right there. All you have to do is let me finish-“
“Didn’t hear you complaining when I did, baby.”
He knows he’s got you by the glint in your eyes and from the effervescent smile you’re trying to hold back.
“Might have missed you a little … but it was quieter when you were sleeping,” you tease and his lips quirk impossibly higher.
“Believe you owe me somethin’, pretty girl.”
His eyes shut, long eyelashes fluttering, whilst he puckers his lips obnoxiously awaiting his ‘good morning’ kiss. His day is not the same without it. You oblige, small hands cupping either of his cheeks, one higher up and carding a hand through his blonde tresses. Mouths connect, it’s enveloping and filled with hunger. He can’t help himself the way his hand accidentally slips beneath your thin bralette and you grab athis wrist, humming into his mouth, a signal for him to stop before you let go.
He doesn’t stop, and you never let go.
Mornings like these spoke volumes, these mornings are the ones JJ lived for.
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curiositydooropened · 3 months
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Late Checkout • Teaser
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The cursor blinked.
A writing retreat at an exclusive 5-star ski resort. A New Years Eve party in the moody lodge bar. A handsome heir. A bratty bad boy. A snowstorm blocking every guest from the outside world.
Pairing: Rich!Steve Harrington x Writer!Reader, Eddie Munson x Writer!Reader
Wordcount: 1328
Warnings and Tags: Modern AU, femme!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, smut, voyeurism, fantasizing, longing, isolation, snowstorm, skiing, writer's block, murder, blood, gore, recreational drug and alcohol use. This is an 18+ blog, minor DNI please and thank you. Please check chapters for further warnings.
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Your thoughts drifted back out to the veranda. Sun poured over the mountain side and bounced off stark white snow. Golden rays cast down and carded through his chestnut hair. Your fingers ached. 
He tilted his face into it, eyes closed, lashes fluttering freckled cheeks, ecstasy evident as his features softened.
You licked your bottom lip. 
The woman with him reached for his cheek and procured an eyelash, holding her finger skyward. 
His eyes opened, amber and honey. A smile pulled at the corners of his pink lips before he pursed them to blow. His cheeks puffed up and hollowed, dotted with freckles, bone structure immaculate. Wish sufficiently made, his face lit in amusement, brows raised.
What did man like him wish for? He had the money, the looks. You hadn’t seen his car in the lot, but you were sure it was as luxuriously as the parka stretched over broad shoulders. The woman by his side was stunning, a Scandinavian supermodel with legs and curves for days.
So what was it then?
He swirled his glass in an ungloved hand, tips of his fingers reddening as he brought the amber liquid to his pink lips for a drink. What did a man with mid-afternoon Scotch wish for? Maybe he wished to bag a new account at the firm. Maybe he wished for his offer to go through for that rental on the Cape. Maybe he wished for his secretary to wear that YSL skirt again, with those pantyhose he could tear off with his perfect teeth.
You sputtered a cough, accidentally inhaling some of the saliva filling your mouth. Face warm, you mopped at the corners of your lips with a sweater cuff.
At your bistro table, your laptop screen had gone to stand-by. With a sigh, you clicked the track pad until the screen revived. On the blank page, the cursor blinked.
“You done with your coffee?” A busgirl approached, cheeks pinched pink and a smile across freckled features.
“Oh,” you handed her your mug and saucer. “Thank you.” 
“Sure,” she nodded, and you were surprised when she leaned in. She smelled of espresso and vanilla. “Hey, this guy in the corner? The cute one with the man bun and the leather jacket? He paid me a really big tip to give you this,” she slipped a drink napkin in front of you. 
Beneath the lodge’s bright orange logo were chicken scratched letters in black ink. 
I hope the novel you’re working on has a better ending. 
“He also offered to buy you another drink,” the barista informed, taking in your reaction with wide eyes. “But if you’re totally disgusted, I will be more than happy to call security and get his ass escorted right out of here.”
You snorted and glanced over your laptop at the far corner of the room. Your Critic from the previous day sat in his same corner, long limbs draped over the sides of the furniture like he he lived there. Slender hands folded the spine of a new novel, decorated in silver rings. His curls were pulled up into a loose bun, exposing a prominent widow’s peak, and a playful smile pulled at the corners of plump lips. 
“You don’t need to kick him out,” you smiled, crumpling the napkin into your discarded mug in her hand. The last drops of coffee soaked into the paper. “But tell you what. Why don’t you and your coworker buy yourself lunch on his dime? I’ll double his tip.” 
“You got yourself a deal,” she flashed a grin and made her way back behind the counter. 
You went about closing your laptop and packing your things into your bag, avoiding the gaze on you from across the room. Zipper zipped, you schlepped the bag over one shoulder, adjusting your sweater beneath the strap. Your table was cleared, save the pen you capped. When you finally looked up to leave the little cafe, you found yourself leveled under a honeyed stare.
Mr. Harrington, the handsome stranger on the veranda, had noticed you through the window. Well that, or the windows were tinted enough to capture his attention, and judging by the darkening of his eyes and the soft smile etching itself onto the corners of his perfect lips, he enjoyed his own reflection. He waved, almost imperceptibly, and mouthed a hello. 
You smiled and nodded. 
Then, the women he brought with him came into view, all freckles and blue eyes, stunning, full lips. 
You turned on your heel and left before you had a chance to wither under her scrutiny, staring at the orange and cream hexagonal tile as you walked through the threshold and back into the lobby. 
“Hey,” another voice startled you, impossibly close, the sting of cigarette smoke mixing with espresso in the air. 
“So the last book inspired you after all.” You sighed, halting before a head-on collision with a family of seven. 
“What?” Your critic crashed into you, capturing your shoulders in large hands to stop you both from barreling into the last set of twins. 
You huffed him off with a shrug. “The Vanishing was about a stalker.” 
“Oh,” he flashed that charming grin of his, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “How do I know you aren’t stalking me?”
You snorted and swept past the convenient store, the pro shop, narrowly avoided a sled dog near the exit to the veranda. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 
Your stalker barked a laugh and managed to trail you past the bar and ballrooms and into the back hallway. “Alright, sweetheart, you caught me. I’ve been following you for weeks.”
You stopped in front of the resort gym. Two middle aged women chatted on ellipticals in matching leggings. “What?”
He didn’t seem like the usual incel fan of yours. They were less clean, less put-together. The ones who managed to weasel your real name and location through hours of research on the dark web usually showed up to a local coffee shop and sent a text message to your laptop from a restricted number. 
This guy had a charcoal sweater made of cashmere and designer cologne. His jacket smelled of real leather. You spotted the glint of a silver watch beneath one sleeve. 
The Cheshire Cat grin fell from his face when your reaction sunk in, and he shook his head, eyes going wide. “I’m totally kidding. That’s probably creepy and terrifying, I’m sorry. I promise I’m not stalking you. I don’t even know your name.” 
Instead of offering it, you turned and headed back down the hall. 
“Hey, okay. My name’s Eddie,” he scrambled to catch up, all the bells and whistles jangling on his leather jacket, “and if you want me to leave you alone, I swear I will. But if you’d be at all interested in letting me buy you a drink tonight, can you let me know? Because I’m scaring the spa receptionists.”
You glanced at the two girls behind the nearest desk. They giggled behind their hands. 
“I’m sorry I insulted your favorite book.” Eddie’s voice softened.
With a sigh, you tucked yourself into a nearby alcove. “It’s not my favorite.” You’d published a handful of others you liked better, all of them less popular.
“Well what is your favorite?” The smile slid itself back onto his features. He remained a few paces away, giving you a respectable amount of space.
You weighed your options. You’d planned evening room service and sweatpants and drafting, endless drafting. Or, you could let someone else pay for your martini, and maybe his refreshing (albeit rude) perspective on your library of work could spark some much needed inspiration.
“I’ll tell you over drinks tonight.” 
“8 o’clock?”
Your stomach flipped at the proud look on his face, and you nodded. 
“See you then, princess.” He bowed so low his bun flopped, and he backed out of the alcove, wagging fingers at the giggling spa receptionists. He whistled as he left.
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breannasfluff · 5 months
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Eldritch Ranch
The boys actually cheer when they step out of the portal. Four’s cheer is a little weak and he’s holding his stomach, but it’s there.
Wild looks around, but the landscape doesn’t answer the excitement. Twilight takes pity and joins him. “We’re close to Lon Lon Ranch. You’ll finally get to meet Miss Malon!”
Right, the elusive wife he’s heard about. Ahead of them, Time glances back at them and frowns. Wild can’t help the instinct to pull his shoulders in and hunch slightly. Things have been a little better between him and Time recently, but what if he doesn’t want the champion around Malon?
What will she think of him? He’s getting tired of wary looks at inns and in towns. Even when he layers himself together, the denizens of the era can tell there’s something off about him.
“How far until we get there?”
“An hour? Maybe a little less. C’mon Cub, Malon’ll love you.”
A bold statement, but there’s nothing to do but follow the group.
Time picks up the pace as the ranch comes into sight. He hurries under the wooden sign and the boys pile after him, heading straight for the porch of the big ranch house to drop their bags.
There’s something…odd about the ranch, buzzing at the edge of Wild’s senses. He lets the others go on ahead and paces the length of the entrance. When there’s no one near enough to care, he unwinds and reaches out and—
Ah. There is power here, sunken into the earth and winding through the fencing. A curtain of it over the sign, sinking out of sight and coating the area. Something has Claimed this land.
“Wild!” Legend waves from the porch. “Hurry up!”
Pulling himself back in, the champion steels himself and steps over the border of the ranch. Power sizzles and pops against his senses, then settles. Whatever it’s looking to keep out, he’s not it.
“Malon? Honey?” Time vanishes into the house, then comes back out as Wild reaches the steps. “Come on, she’s probably out back with the horses.” He sends another glance at Wild, who reaches for his aura on instinct and pulls it tighter.
The group trooped around the porch and down the back steps, heading for the paddocks and barns. There’s the shrill whinny of a horse and Time changes direction, heading for it.
Twilight drops back next to Wild. “Sounds like a foalin. The missus is probably helpin the mare.” There’s an extra spring in his step; he’s excited to be here.
All of the Chain are, spreading out and roaming the grounds. Sky and Four break off from the group and head for the cucco shed, although Four splits for another shed. The rest follow Time.
Wild stops at the door of the barn, peaking around the entryway. Time leans over one side of a stall, talking to someone inside. His face is soft in a way Wild’s never seen before.
The champion takes a few more steps in until he sees the woman who must be Malon. Her hair holds the sharp red of the Gerudo and the dark tan of her skin hints at the lineage. She’s grinning up at her husband, but one hand still rests on the mare in labor.
It gives another grunt and she turns back to calm it, keeping an eye on the hooves starting to emerge. A moment later the foal is free, the birthing sac breaking. Malon is quick to wipe its nose of muck to make sure it can breathe. The wet sides heave and twitch and tiny hooves kick; the foal is alive.
“Hello, sugarcube,” she says and reaches out to press the pads of her fingers against its forehead. “Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch.” Magic wells and sinks into the foal’s fur.
Wild is frozen, unsure if his senses are lying to him. Abruptly, he unwinds and reaches out. Those not Claimed grimace and shift away, but it doesn’t matter. He has to know. What did Malon just do?
Malon crashes into Wild’s senses. Long grass, wet with early morning dew. The safety of a herd at rest. Colts kicking up their feet and fillies suckling from their mothers. The pounding of hooves against dirt. The great bellows of lungs expanding and contracting. Steam puffing in cold air. The snap of a tail to shoo away flies. The rolling hills of the land, supporting the creatures grazing above. The freedom to run, purely for joy.
“Malanya?”
“What?” Time snaps around to look at him, but Wild isn’t paying attention. He’s watching Malon.
She gives the foal a final pat as it works to stand and brushes hay off her skirt. Leaving the stall, she quickly scrubs her hands in a bucket of water and soap, then takes the towel Time hands her.
Then, and only then, does she fully stand and meet Wild’s gaze.
Oh. Not Malanya. But similar; enough that it throws Wild. She’s a balm to his senses, calm and quiet as a contented mare. There’s no raw energy that Fierce exudes, but the champion doesn’t mind. Malon feels like home. Not in the way the evening does, or his Hyrule, but on a warmer, more personal level. Family.
Malon steps forward with a smile. “You must be a new hero. I’m Malon.”
Wild takes a faltering step forward, then rocks back, still unsure. She opens her arms and it’s permission enough. He rushes forward and buries himself in her hug. “Oh, baby, you feel familiar. We haven’t met, but I think I’ve missed you.”
Read the rest here! And please let me know what you thought <3
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tiniedemon · 8 months
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GLORY & GORE . . . chapter five
in which y/n and kyle finally acknowledge their desires
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you remembered watching kyle’s games, watching his ferocity. kyle was a bloodthirsty animal, hiding in the treetops, descending on his prey come nightfall. his mind was his greatest asset. he’d taken the trophy for the most kills in the games, his kill count surpassing even the most formidable of your successors. he’d done it all with a simple dagger, the hilt repurposed into a stunning taser.
you’d taken a lot from his strategies, choosing instead to form alliances and betray them in the dark of the night. your only weapon had been a machete, the metal hilt carved to resemble a saw.
you had every confidence in the two of you in a typical game, but for this one, veterans would be your greatest enemies. they’d all won before, developed their strategies, honed their skills in a life threatening situation. they were familiar with your strategy, with kyle’s, and with each other’s.
“i need to watch the tapes,” you mumbled to kyle. the two of you were gathered in the common area of your district’s floor, liane seated just across the sectional sofa. kelly was perched in the dining room, enjoying a sweet snack as though your entire world wasn’t scheduled to implode within a few short weeks.
“what tapes?” he responded, face scrunched in confusion. you huffed a sigh, rolled your eyes, and looked to liane.
“how can i analyze previous games? i need to know what i’m up against,” you called to her. she chortled, tilted her head back, her glass of liquor spotting on her beige top.
“i can get you the tapes, but you’re gonna need to pick some allies. those are my conditions,” she drawled, her words slurring together. you huffed again, rolled your eyes again, nestled into kyle’s side. his hand fell to your knee, as though it belonged there.
he was oddly comfortable showing such vulnerability in front of someone who could very well use it against you, and you did not quite understand that. was he not suspicious of liane in the slightest?
“fine,” you grumbled. “but i’m only doing it for those tapes. get me the footage and i’ll pick some allies.”
by the afternoon of the second day, liane had come to you with the footage. it was all held within a small hard drive, able to be easily connected to a capitol projector.
“remember our deal. find an alliance.”
the first night was spent fast forwarding through district one’s games, analyzing every strategy you could scour. you were stationed in the floor at the foot of your bed, hunched over a half empty cup of coffee. it was stretching further into the night, growing closer to dawn than to dusk.
kyle padded into the room, rubbing his eye, his face scrunched. the door slid shut behind him, his body collapsing on the carpet beside you. he leaned into you, placing his head on your shoulder. his hair tickled your chin and his lips warmed your exposed shoulder blade.
“why are you still up?” he asked in a gruff voice. you sighed, paused the footage, rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. you were exhausted. you’d been watching these tapes for at least twelve hours with no breaks. there were weeks worth of footage per tribute, and it was a miracle you���d gotten through even one.
“i’ve been sifting through footage, analyzing. why are you awake?”
kyle puffed a sigh, his cheeks inflating and his eyes squeezing shut. you couldn’t help the soft smile that creeped onto your face, or the hand you ran through his knotted curls. his hair was just as dry as you were used to. you made a mental note to remind him to condition every day. he’d need that piece of advice after he survived the games.
“i was worried about you.” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear him. you hummed, your heart speeding in your chest, and leaned your head against his. he picked up the remote and fiddled with the buttons until he found the right one. the footage resumed where you’d left off, zoomed in on district one’s female tribute.
you’d noticed that she and stephen, the male tribute, were similar in style, as were all district ones. they’d team up with district two, take out all the other tributes, and fight the other careers to the death. they tended to lean heavy into mass slaughter rather than mind games, the way you and kyle tended to lean. perhaps their similar fighting style was the first stepping stone towards their capitol marriage.
it didn’t take much for you to call quits on the second district one tribute. there wasn’t much to her besides bloodshed and brutality. district two’s male tribute, craig, was more of a sadistic killer. he preferred torture, slow death, dragging along the inevitable. it was almost painful for you to watch. almost. kyle flinched with every heartless murder craig committed.
“how are we supposed to stand a chance against them?” kyle whispered. you hummed, wrapped an arm around him, pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“you don’t worry about a single thing, ky. i can take them.” you knew it was an empty promise. there was no telling what would transpire in these games, what route the careers chose to take. the only thing you could promise was your best, and your best was a force to be reckoned with.
“i’ve got your back, too. you know that right?” your heart warmed with the words, a smile forming on your lips despite the gruesome loss playing on screen. kyle was sweet at heart, despite his younger days in the arena. he was a ball of anger, a bomb ready to detonate, but he never did so without a reason. you admired that about him — his willingness to explode for causes he believed in.
he had a heart of gold, though. he was consistently looking out for you, even before your family had been taken from you. once he’d won the games and gained his monthly fortune, he’d spent a good portion on your family. you’d spent your entire life until your games, nearly three years, attempting to repay him. you didn’t think you ever could, in all honesty. kyle had his entire family to support without throwing yours on his roster, but he did so in a heartbeat, and for that you were grateful.
“we’re in this together,” you mumbled, your fingers lacing with his over his shoulder. “you and i against the world.” he was quiet for a moment, breathing so evenly you were sure he was asleep. it wasn’t until he cringed, a splash of blood hitting one of the cameras displayed brightly on the hologram, that you knew he was awake. he’d never been so calm, so still around you. you’d never known him to be so relaxed. he was always so high strung, fidgeting, consistently moving his legs. he was completely relaxed now, limp against your body, face pressed to your chest.
“don’t think i’ve ever been so relaxed in my life.” his words were whispered, shy, lost in the dips of your clavicle. you chuckled and ran your hand through his unkempt curls, adjusting into a more comfortable position on the hardwood floor. kyle leaned further into you, his lips gently brushing the space between your collarbone and your neck. the touch was featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.
“you should rest. we’ve got the parade tomorrow,” you breathed. kyle sighed, breath fanning over your prickling skin. his hair tickled your chin as he shook his head.
“i don’t think i could if i wanted to,” he muttered. you frowned, turned off the projection, focused your attention on the ginger practically in your lap. his eyes glittered in the low light of your lamp in the corner, shadows caressing the dips of his cheekbones and eye sockets. even in the poor, shadowed lighting, you could see the freckles spotting his upper lip.
“why’s that?” you could barely speak around the lump in your throat, swallowing it thickly. being so close to him, closer than you’d ever been, was nerve wracking. everything about him was nerve wracking. knowing the depths of his character, the darkest parts of him, the lightest parts of him, was nerve wracking. it was an addiction in and of itself. you didn’t think you could tear your eyes away from his tongue wetting his chapped lips if you wanted to.
“i’d be too busy thinking about you. thinking about what i should’ve said, what i should’ve done.” there was a pause, in which you caught his eyes, the heat reflecting in their molten depths. “thinking about how i should’ve kissed you.”
your heart jumped to your throat, your breath catching. kyle straightened himself out, his head leaning down to gaze into your eyes. you couldn’t tear yourself away, caught in the trap of his allurement. you shivered under the gentle touch of his fingertips to your cheekbone, the caress of his palm to your jawbone.
you didn’t want to love him. you didn’t want to need him. but, to your dismay, you were starting to realize how little your wants mattered. there was something about kyle that drew you in, that forced you to desire him, that suffocated you with its incessant whispering of his name. he was forcing you to love him, to care for him, to need him on such a base level that you couldn’t exist if not for him.
“why don't you?” your breaths came in shallow, discreet gasps, your fingertips shaking and heart beating in your throat. something about kyle was addicting, entrapping, influential, dangerous. you were crossing a threshold you knew you’d never be able to cross back through.
“that’s a good question,” he hummed. his fingertips traced the edge of your jawline, eyes dropped to follow them. “why don’t i?”
“you’re scared,” you breathed. every movement of his body, every beat of your heart, instilled a new wave of nervous fear in your bones. if anyone was scared, it was you.
“i’m not.” it was a lie. you could feel his pulse running against the hand you’d placed on his chest. “but i think you are.” that was true. everything in you was screaming ‘run. run as far as you can, and don’t come back.’ there was a part of you that whispered ‘stay with him. you need him.’
“i’m not.” kyle scoffed, flattened his palm against the side of your neck, tilted his head to the side. his eyes glimmered when you looked into them, the brightest expression of love you’d ever seen held deep within them. you knew he could see the fright on your face, the way your lips trembled, the bead of sweat rolling down your temple. “okay, maybe i am.”
“i knew you were. you don’t have to be scared of me.” his voice was shaky, his whispers airy and depraved. you knew what he wanted, and that scared you. it scared you that he wanted it, and it scared you more that you did too.
“i know. i’m not scared of you. i’m scared of me,” you admitted, your eyes shamefully downcast to the dips of his collarbone. kyle was a defined man, his bone structure harsh and his features sharp. there was a hard angle where his jaw met his throat, and where his throat met his shoulders, and where his shoulders met his biceps. his legs were the same, strong muscle tapering to a pronounced kneecap and into a rounded calve.
“why?” he asked, his entire hand eclipsing the side of your face. you chuckled, the sound airy, as your eyes traced the prominent vein popping from his neck. you followed it to his jaw, and to his full lips, and to his smiling eyes.
“i shouldn’t want you the way i do, in the situation we’re in, and i’m terrified. i’ve never wanted someone this way before.”
“don’t be fearful of your desire, dearest. it’s the one thing that’s kept you going this long,” he hushed, nose brushing yours. you closed your eyes on instinct, exhaled shakily, weaved your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “let it guide you, not inhibit you.”
“kiss me.”
you waited no more than a second before his lips devoured yours, his kiss searing against your trembling mouth. his fingers bruised your skin, pulling you closer, and closer, until you were straddling his lap. he held you by the waist, pressed his chest to yours, trailed his touch beneath your shirt to caress your bare skin.
you were a nervous wreck atop him, breathy sighs leaving your lips with every press of his to your neck and jaw. you hadn’t released your hold of his shirt in quite some time, your fingers tangled in the thin fabric, knuckles shaking against his soft chest. you were entirely caught in the feeling of his skin sliding against yours, his warm breath caressing your prickling nerves, his tongue brushing your bottom lip. he was a good kisser. you were realizing this as your legs trembled on either side of him.
“please don’t hurt me,” you whispered between kisses, eyes squeezed shut as tightly as you could get them. kyle took your face in his palms and drew his mouth away entirely, his lips puffy and smiling when you finally met his gaze.
“i wouldn’t dream of it. you and me against the world, remember?” he mumbled, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. “you should get some sleep. no offense, but you look like you’ve been run over by a train.” the chuckle punctuating his statement didn’t make it any less true. you knew you looked rough. the days with little to no sleep were adding up in the bags beneath your eyes. even so, lava burned in your depths, aching for him and only him.
“i don’t need rest,” you breathed, leaning in for another kiss. kyle indulged you, his lips moving fluidly with yours, your nails embedding their prints into the lean muscle of his back. he breathed shakily against you, his mouth bruisingly caressing yours. you felt a low hum bubbling in your chest, drawn out by his fingers groping your thighs.
“don’t let me continue. you won’t like it if i do,” he gasped into your mouth, teeth grazing your lower lip. you could feel the sweat beginning to gather on your skin, dampening your shirt. something about kyle was so brazen, so heated. you’d never sweat like this before, even in the adrenaline rush of the games, or the training leading up to it. even in the summer heat, without a single drop of water.
“i want to. i want you.” you weren’t lying. you weren’t one for lying, even when it was a technical necessity. everything in you was screaming for every piece of him, begging for it, burning for it. your every nerve was alight, buzzing beneath his bruising touch and starving lips.
“i would die for you.” his words struck you harder than any ax could. having someone just as willing to die for you as you were for them was an odd experience, an experience you hadn’t prepared yourself for in the slightest. you were winded, wheezing and gasping as kyle pressed open mouthed kisses to the side of your throat.
“you’ll never have to,” you whimpered, subtly grinding your hips against kyle’s. the groan he let out was soft, buzzing on repeat in your ears, drenching you from the core outward. you could feel his eagerness welling beneath your hips, pressing into the crevices of your lower half. you knew he could feel yours, your loose trousers growing damp as his hands clawed at your ass.
“god, please take these off,” he rushed, tongue stumbling over his words and over your lips. you couldn’t bring yourself to find a reason why you shouldn’t, drunken by the loving haze he’d entrapped you in. your hips met the cold hardwood, fingers shaking as they pried your bottoms from your body. kyle tore your shirt over your head, breathless as he took in every exposed piece of skin his widened eyes could find.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he hastily threw his own top to the other side of the room. you couldn’t find the air in your lungs, gaze trained on the scars littering his chest. kyle would never cease to amaze you, even in the horrific, shredded state his chest remained in. long, jagged scars raised the skin of his chest, one just beneath his ribs and the other two parallel over his heart. you couldn’t resist reaching to touch him, dusting over the remnants of his days in the arena.
“don’t look at them,” he mumbled, ashamed and dejected. you dipped your head, shimmying slightly off his lap, and pressed a few chaste kisses to the torn skin of his chest. his breath hitched, his hand knotting in your hair.
“is this why you never take your shirt off around me?” you breathed, tracing each line burrowed in his lean chest muscles. he hesitated, then nodded, and brought you in for another kiss. you didn’t fight him, didn’t fight to continue the conversation. you melted into him, fingers twisting in his curly hair, hips subtly rocking into his. he was a breathy mess, letting out the smallest sounds, your lips swallowing every single one. you’d never been so eager to touch a human being before. never so desperate to show your affection.
it took only a few moments for kyle to pry his pajama bottoms from his body, during which he slid you into the floor. your bare thighs touched the hardwood and a shiver rippled down your spine from the chill running over your bottom half. his hands were unrelenting, pushing your pliant body into the floor, squeezing your sides like you’d disappear if he stopped. which, in a sense, it was completely rational. you were staring death in the face, and with each kiss and each movement of his hips, kyle was laughing right back at it.
“i need you,” he whispered into your tongue, tugging at your underwear. you could only bear a nod, throat riddled with fear, uncertainty clawing at your chest. you’d never done any of this before, never felt touch like this, never let yourself be vulnerable enough to engage in such lewd activities. it only made sense for kyle to be your first, and hopefully you his.
all caution thrown to the wind, you pulled your underwear off, and kyle tossed his across the room. the sight uncovered before you made you gulp. he was large, well endowed, hiding much more than you imagined you could take. your loins ached at the thought.
you had no time to dwell on the large package he’d kept hidden in his trousers, two long fingers sliding into you with such suddenness you couldn’t hold back the drawn out noise boiling in your chest. being touched like this… it was pleasant, overwhelmingly so, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. you writhed on the floor of your tribute quarters, fingers locked into his hair, eyes squeezed shut. you were shaking. a coil in your stomach was tightening, like a spring ready to snap. you couldn’t find the willpower to stop, lost in the pleasure of his fingers stroking your innards with such careful precision you doubted he was a virgin.
“kyle,” you gasped, back pulling off the floor, fingernails digging into his scalp. “kyle, i-“ you didn’t get to finish, your mind disappearing into a void, your legs quaking and dripping heat spasming against his fingers. coming back down, you spotted the utter shock paling his face, his fingers sliding out with dampened ease. a slight smile quirked his lips. you hated to admit it, but you certainly had a thing for his fingers. especially as he licked them clean of your nether’s juices.
“you’re too much,” he managed to chuckle, leaning so close your hardened nipples brushed his rib cage. you couldn’t help the high pitched moan ripped from your body, especially as something hard prodded at the same hole his fingers had just worked their magic on. a glance down revealed kyle’s cock, hard and swollen, prodding at your aching cunt. you widened your legs and held your breath in anticipation.
the first half entered with striking ease, forcefully expanding your inner walls to accommodate. it was a sickly sweet sensation, bordering on painful. the rest of it pushed in abruptly, pushing you apart far too rapidly for your body seemingly to handle. you could’ve cried from the tingle of unease, feeling raw and opened and vulnerable beneath the man you’d come to adore.
kyle’s face was tight, drawn up into a concentrated scowl, eyes squeezed shut and breath held in his chest. he didn’t move an inch, a patch of orange hair brushing your labia, thighs flush with yours. it took a moment to adjust to the new sensation burrowed within you. for the sensation to transform into the strangest pleasure you’d ever felt. an experimental wiggle of your hips, a nod, and a tentative move in and out. he brushed every nerve ending spanning your insides, every piece of your body, every spot you could ever think of.
it was so pleasurable you couldn’t breathe. every nerve ending was alight, buzzing under your skin with want. you wanted every piece of him, every inch of his body touching yours. his lips met yours in a bruising kiss, tongue brushing against yours, every tentative stroke of his hips and his mouth sending a jolt of electricity to the bridge between your bodies.
“i’m gonna-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence, a quaking sigh rippling through his chest. you wanted him, every inch to the fullest, every bit of him you could have. if this was it, your final chance at intimacy with your best friend, you were going to steal it and indulge in it and trap it within the binds of your rib cage. tomorrow wasn’t promised. tonight was the only thing that mattered.
his hips stuttered, a breathy moan passing from his throat to yours, a foreign warmth spotting your lower stomach. you could feel it leaking over your skin, pooling beneath you, and never once did you let him break the kiss. never once did you let him go. you didn’t think you could if you wanted to. arena be damned, kyle was yours, and you drank him like the last few drops of water left on the planet.
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Though The Path May Be Long, I Shall Find You; Jack Howl
A path lies ahead, some are more treacherous than others. At the end of the winding, coloured footsteps is where they can rest; a bird directing them forward, made out of precious stone.
Main Character; Jack Howl
Supporting Roles; Jack's parents, Vil Schoenheit (if you squint), Leona Kingscholar, bird messengers
Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match), gender-neutral reader, this can be read as platonic, familial, or romantic, made up some lore for Jack's family, hurt/comfort (but not as much as the others)
Content Warning; brief violence (not reader or Jack), some swearing, nightmares (reader)
Word Count; 5 K
Do not put mine - or other creators’ - works into AI; that shit steals.
Prologue & Leona's Story | Ruggie's Story
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Winter was in the air, despite it only being the start of September. But this was the Shaftlands, winter always came early, and a thin blanket of snow would be covering the ground before the end of the month. Jack was out picking berries with his father, as his mother was out hunting game to fill their freezer for the long winter nights. The Howl family was stocked up on almost everything, but having some fresh and rare cloudberries were always welcomed; especially during the long nights that were to come. A raven flew overhead and came to rest on his father’s shoulder, croaking into his ear.
Jack’s ears perked up, but he continued picking berries, trying to overhear the conversation between his father and his messenger, made from sodalite. Hmm, oh there’s a large patch over there! Dad’s busy so he wouldn’t notice if I went ahead and picked those!
“What news do you bring,” the older man asked the bird. A particular harsh wind rustled through the evergreens. Seems like winter would be here early this year, earlier than usual.
The raven puffed up, and shook their head. “The Mrs has harvested a moose, a large bull. Enough to feed the household until spring.”
Mr Howl nodded his head and his raven was off again, going back to reunite with the others. “Jack?” He called out. Nothing. “Jack?!” He looked to where he was earlier, but he wasn’t there. “JACK?!” He shouted, causing birds to leave the trees in a panic. “JACK HOWL?!”
Jack was still busy picking berries, and he stopped upon hearing the echoing, concerned, yelling of his dad. How had he gotten so far away? “Dad? I’m over here dad!” He stayed calm, and stayed put. Should you ever get lost, stay put. Should you panic and run more you’ll only get yourself more lost. He got up on a rock and waved his arms, in the hope that his dad would notice the movement. “I’m over here! DAD?!”
A twig snapped in the undergrowth, and Jack stopped. The wind was moving towards him and he could smell something, something dangerous. He wedged himself into a narrow rock overhang and held his breath. Slow padded footsteps thudded outside and soon he could see the brown fur of a brown bear outside of his hiding place. And he could hear and feel the hot breath entering the crevice.
“JACK?!” His dad shouted, and all he saw was something white and furry fighting the bear. But it wasn’t his dad, it was his mom. “Jack, come on! Hurry!” His dad forcibly dragged him out of his hiding spot and made a beeline home.
“What were you thinking,” his mom inspected his face, looking for any marks, even though during the fight with the brown bear a claw had left a gash on her shoulder blade. “I told you to stay with your dad while out foraging-”
Jack’s eyebrows were knotted, and his lip trembled. His mother stopped and cupped his face. 
“Love,” she embraced him in a crushing hug, “we were worried about you. Please, just stick near us. Okay? You’re okay, Jack.”
Jack squeezed her back, tail in between his legs. “I’m sorry Mom.” He just wanted to pick some cloudberries, his mom’s favourite. He wanted to surprise her with enough so that they could make some jam together. But all the berries that he had picked had been destroyed during the fight. It was all for naught.
A light knock on the front door made him stop, and his mother went to answer it. At the door stood a blond boy a few years older than Jack, bright amethyst eyes looking up. “Excuse me, Mrs. Howl, but can I play with Jack?”
Jack’s mom looked at Vil, taking mind to make sure her wound dressing was still covered. “Sorry Vil, but-” she stopped and looked towards her son. “But, you’ll have to play here, in the yard.”
Jack looked up, asking silently for permission, and his mom nodded a yes. “What do you wanna play,” he asked excitedly, grabbing some of their usual play things.
Vil smiled, and helped bring the toys outside. “Hmmm, what about knights? Trying to save the village?” 
And the two boys went off and played. Vil would continue to visit every day, until a large ice storm rolled in on Jack’s fifth birthday, forcing everyone to stay inside.
That night, as Jack was starting to fall asleep, he looked outside. The ice had temporarily stopped, and a bright orange moon hung in the sky. Green and blue auroras painting the night sky. Jack didn’t know what to ask for when it came to his messenger. He knew it was going to be a raven, as it was customary for a raven to form a bond with a wolf pup.
“Can I,” he paused, thinking. What do I want? “Can I have someone there for me?” He was about to turn in for the night, but an unseasonably warm wind opened the window. He rushed to close it, and when he looked down there was a raven messenger, but it wasn’t made out of typical stone. It was made of petrified wood; representing trust, grounding, and knowledge. But he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he had a raven. That he had a soul match. That’s all that mattered.
Jack placed his belongings down on the floor and the desk beside his bed, looking over the room. He didn’t know what to expect of Savanaclaw, but he was thankful that he at least had a dorm, unlike the one student. They also smelled… different, not a bad different, but different. They didn’t smell like they were from Twisted Wonderland, that they were from somewhere entirely different. But that wasn’t any of his business, and he wasn’t about to poke his nose into someone else’s business, let alone a complete stranger.
He shook his head and started placing his items where he thought they would go best. And since he was now in a place temperate enough without any harsh winters, he could finally start growing some plants he saw in a book once; some cacti. The little green plants spoke to him; they survived in harsh conditions and adapted to not only survive but to strive. He could appreciate that, even if the plant did prick him every so often, he couldn’t blame it for doing so, that’s what the spines are meant for.  
His mind wandered, wondering if his siblings were doing okay? He knew that his parents were more than capable of looking after them, but he still worried. Ever since his mom fought off that bear, she hasn’t been able to use her left arm like she normally did; weaker from nerve damage. Her raven also had the scar, and couldn’t fly due to it. But she never alluded that she was in pain, keeping on a brave face for Jack, and later on for his siblings.
Jack looked down to his raven. Unlike the others, his raven was made of fossilized wood, preserved throughout the aeons. He turned it over gently, his hands dwarfing it in comparison. It would stay small, small enough to hold until his soul match’s bird awoke… that is if he had one at all. Apparently, messengers made out of anything other than stone were rare and could be seen as a blessing, but also as a warning. A warning that hardships may await them in the future. He didn’t want to dwell on that though, he had a messenger so that in itself proved that there was someone out there for him. Be they a friend, found family, or life partners, like his parents.
“What lessons do you hold,” he asked quietly, ears twitching making sure the coast was clear. He placed the wooden bird on his desk carefully, and when he was satisfied, he left the room, heading off to the dining hall.
A cold breeze entered the room, which was rare for the Savanaclaw dorm. It carried the smell of snow, pine trees, and a lone snowflake landed on the wood raven, resting between their eyes. They shook their head and stretched out their wings, flexing them for the first time. The cold wind was gone as soon as it came, the warmth from the sun-baked stone returning.
The raven hopped to the window sill, looking out to the rapidly setting sun. “The time is nigh. They are here.” And they took off, but not to find Jack.
You couldn’t sleep, but what could you really expect? You had just arrived to this ‘Twisted Wonderland’ and everything you knew had been flipped upside down. Magic was real. There are merfolk, fae, and beastmen?! All of the fairy tales were true but they were Disney-fied; honestly that probably saved your butt, since the originals are… well you would have had fewer chances of survival let’s just say that. 
“I swear if I see one more Mickey Mouse easter-egg-” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your temples. It didn’t help that your new place, Ramshackle Dorm, was not up to code. How that ‘Headmage’ thought the decaying mansion was suitable to live in was beyond you. To be fair, he does seem to be quite a few screws loose.
A gust of cold wind blew the windows open and you scrambled to close them. When you finally got them closed a low croaking was behind you. You turned around and on your bed were two ravens, but they looked to be made of stone instead of flesh and feathers. “Finally arrived, I see,” the one said, hopping up to stand on the bed frame.
You blinked a few times, but the ravens were still there. “Uhhhh, I just got here.” You had already been exposed to so much today that, sure why not, talking stone birds are totally normal now. Totally normal. Nope, not internally freaking out. You are totally zen. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! Not having an existential crisis. Everything is normal here. 
“We have been waiting many years for you,” the other raven spoke, their voice being deeper than the previous one. They stood stoically, unlike the more hyper one which was tracing patterns in the hole-ridden bedsheets. “However, there is much to learn here. You must grow before I or your messenger digress any further information. For now, know this; many a hardship will fall your way, but you must stand tall. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.” They bowed to you and took flight, exiting through the window from whence they came, leaving you alone with the more playful bird.
Many a hardship will come your way. You had just gotten here and that cryptic line of advice sounded more like a warning than something comforting. I must stand tall? I’m stronger than I give myself credit for? Haven’t I already received enough character development? I just… I want to go home.
You felt a soft tap tap tap on your hand. The raven had stopped making patterns and was sitting beside you, looking up at you. “Come now, it has been a long enough day for you. You cannot do anything if you are not well rested. Off to bed with you now, shoo shoo!” They flapped at you with their wings.
You planted your feet down, and stopped. “And why should I listen to you?!” You snapped. For all that you knew, this could be a prank, a hazing ceremony of sorts.
The raven stopped and calmed down. “I am a part of you. Once you awaken tomorrow, I shall tell you everything that you ought to know.” 
You would have protested more, but in all honestly all of your energy had been drained throughout the day. The mattress was hard and lumpy, the sheets thin and with holes, but you fell asleep quickly. The wood raven silently looking after you.
“King of Beasts,” they said in a hushed tone, looking up to the moonless night. “Make haste, for many a challenge will face them. Send their match on his quest for them… before something else finds them.”
When Jack got back to his dorm it was dark out, being held back by a fight between Leona and the Diasomnia housewarden. But when he opened the door he stilled. When he left, his wood raven was sitting on his desk, and now it was flying around and collecting anything shiny it could find. “Oh, this would make for a lovely present, yes, yes, that will do nicely!”
His soul match was finally here then. He should have felt happy, but all he felt was confusion. Should I be… happy? “What are you doing?” He asked the raven, as it had made a mess of his side of the room.
The raven squawked, and dropped a coin it was carrying. “Ah, Jack, my good fellow! Finally back I see! Oh, I’m just gathering up some exquisite gifts for you to give to your match!” They presented all of the ‘presents’ they had collected; several coins, a bobby pin, and some dryer lint. “Are they not lovely?”
Jack’s ears pulled back, “You didn’t have to do that, I can do it myself.” He wouldn’t classify any of those gifts 'exquisite’ or ‘lovely’. “Nevermind that. How are you alive?” He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it, to have confirmation that this was real. That this was really happening.
The raven hopped down to the floor and bit at his tail, hard.
“HEY-”
“There, proof that I’m alive. There should be a bruise tomorrow as well.” The raven looked smug, and puffed up with pride. “Oh your meeting shall be splendid! Their raven and I have it all planned out-”
“No,” he interjected. “Nothing is planned out, it’s not your place to plan how, when, or where, we meet. Don’t force them to do anything.” He didn’t want to force his match with anything, even if both of their birds wanted nothing more than to plan some horribly cheesy scene. “We will meet when we meet.”
The raven stilled in its actions, looking at the things it had collected. “Which will be when, Jack? It has been over ten years since you received me.”
Jack pushed his hair out of his face, centering himself. “I’m not sure, but one day. It could be tomorrow. It could be a week. Months. Or years. But we will meet when we deem ourselves ready. That isn’t for you to decide… So please, let us do it on our own terms.” He sighed, and sat down. He wasn’t planning on any of this happening and it was only his first day at Night Raven College, and there was still yet more to come.
Jack had adjusted to life in Savanaclaw and the college. He may not always agree with how… underhanded some of his peers may be, but he wished not to rock the boat. But he had stepped out of his comfort zone, he had confronted others when they abused their power. But even with all of that chaos, he had made a friend; you. But he knew that you hadn’t told him everything, and he wasn’t going to push you for it either. You would do that on your own terms, and he would patiently wait. Unlike his raven who kept on pushing him.
“It’s almost winter break,” they croaked in his ear. “Do you not wish to inform your parents of this wonderous news? That your match is here?”
Jack shrugged the bird off, and sighed. “I would, but I would like to know that for certain that they, my match, are prepared for… that. Mother can be… overprotective.” He may not be a young pup anymore, but his mother still doted over him. And yes, he loves her, but he doesn’t want to throw his match to the wolves when it came to his family. He didn’t want to rush into it. He wanted a slow progression where they got to know each other. 
The raven relented in its actions. “Ah, I understand… have you seen the footsteps yet?”
“No.” No, he had not. There was no trace of any glowing footsteps, and he has yet to be visited by his match’s raven, which means that they were not ready. There was still something they were looking for; either in themselves or around them. He just wondered; what were they looking for?
Books upon books upon books, and there was absolutely nothing. No word of your world, the only thing coming close being this world’s version of Paris. Other than that, nothing. You were frustrated. Have the weeks of pouring over volumes of text been for nothing? And now winter break was nearing, and you would be left alone here… stuck as you have been for the past several months. 
“Prefect, you look unwell,” Jack’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had become an unlikely friend during your time here. He had helped you so many times before, and now he even brought you some lunch, as you were hunched over yet another book. “And you’ve been reading non-stop.”
You looked over to your friend, and there was concern in his warm, golden eyes. A lot of people saw Jack as aloof, but you saw him as warm, but not overbearingly so. “Just trying to understand a few things is all. You don’t need to worry about me, Jack, you’ve done more than enough as is!” He had even brought you a plate of pear compote, his favourite.
He didn’t look convinced, his ears pinned back. “You can just ask, Prefect. I may not know everything, but it’s best to not let things cloud your mind.” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.
“What do stone birds mean?” You quickly closed your mouth, regretting that you brought it up. As far as you could tell, no one else had a stone bird. “Ignore that-”
Jack cocked his head. “Prefect, do you have one?” He didn’t need an answer, as your expression, body language, and fast heart rate was one enough. “A stone bird means that you have a soul match. Someone who is right for you. They can come in many forms… but a lot of people wish for a romantic one. The more common ones are familial or platonic matches though.” He reached down into his bag, getting out a small journal with a wolf and raven on it. 
“Don’t get your hopes up, herbivore,” Leona took a seat at your table and eyed the journal. “Shouldn’t be letting some bird tell you who to bond with.”
You picked at your plate; both of what they said playing in your mind. Jack’s ears twitched, and he opened up the journal. In it were crystal meanings, common birds for the different clans of beastmen. “Bitter, aren’t we?”
Leona’s ears pinned back, and Jack shifted closer to you. He didn’t know why, and he knew that Leona wouldn’t try anything, but he felt compelled to protect you from harm, even if it never came. And the hairs on his neck stood on end, much as the hackles of an agitated canine would. 
Leona raised an eyebrow at Jack and rolled his eyes. “Not bitter, herbivore,” he sighed. “Just don’t like havin’ someone else call the shots for me, let alone some pesky bird and some long-dead king from times past.” 
Jack huffed and handed the book to you, ignoring his house warden. “Hopefully this helps, since the messengers can’t tell us anything of substance-”
“What’s your stone bird?” Your eyes widened, and you fumbled. Why did I do that? That’s something that only… his soul match should know? What’s the etiquette on asking about soul matches? Did I offend him? Why is Leona looking so smug right now?
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, “A raven, that’s the messenger that wolf beastmen and their soul match receive.” 
Huh, that’s- Wait a minute MY ‘messenger’ is a raven- Your brain was scrambling trying to put that information together. “That makes sense, I guess,” is what came out of your mouth instead of some hot word vomit. “Since, ya know, ravens form friendships with wolves and help lead them to food- Well in this case not food, rather their soul match…” You stopped talking, feeling like you were just digging yourself into a deeper hole. Best stop while I’m ahead. STOP RAMBLING! “But, uhhh, thanks for the book Jack!” You smiled warmly, finally having at least a few answers to the seemingly never ending list of questions you had.
“It’s no problem,” Jack offered a small smile and a nod of his head. But you knew that it was genuine, you could read him like an open book.
I don’t get why people are intimidated by him. Jack’s a nice guy. Sure, he’s a bit aloof at first, but he means well. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” He had already helped you out so many times before, so you only thought it would be fair for you to help him out in return in the future; not to repay him, but because you’re his friend. Friends help out friends.
He gave you a nod and the bell rang, and you were both off to your respective classes. Both of your wooden messengers flying after you, giving each other a nod.
Ink. Ink was everywhere. Hands were everywhere. And eyes, so many eyes were looking down at Jack. What is this? He shook his head and the scene changed, there were still eyes looking down, but the hands were gone, and there were only a few puddles of ink? Overblot? But there was no one around. The scene shifted again, and this time he was in the magishift field. Leona’s overblot?
“It’s their nightmares, I’m afraid. Rather rare for their dreams to enter into yours.” His raven said, but was nowhere near, off in the physical world. “I cannot do anything I’m afraid.”
But why is my soul match having nightmares of overblots? Only certain people have witnessed them… But he walked forwards, the field shifting into water, the browns and tans fading into blues and purples. Azul’s overblot? But only- But he was ripped out of the dream by his alarm blaring. He shot up out of bed, in a cold sweat. “What was that,” he huffed, trying to calm his racing heart.
His raven hopped over, and handed him a towel. “Night terrors. Premonitions. Awful things. They’ve been haunted by them for months now.”
This caused Jack to frown. His soul match has been haunted by dreams, dreams that he had just witnessed for months? How in the Seven were they able to get any sleep if their dreams were filled with the fraction of what he saw? They must be exhausted… “Is there anything I can do to help?” He hadn’t really thought it over, but the urge to help his soul match, whoever they were, was strong
“Hmm, until you properly meet through the path, no. but you know them, so just keep on supporting them-” the raven stopped, realizing its blunder. Jack wasn’t supposed to know that he had already met his soul match.
He narrowed his eyes at the wood bird. “I know them,” he said, not amused. “How long have I known them for?”
The raven did its impression of a guilty smile. “Oh since about… Actually, I can't say that, as that would be a dead giveaway and can’t have that happen, no no, can’t have that happen at all.”
Jack just stared at his messenger, and he bounced his knee, thinking. If my raven won’t tell me anything maybe their’s will… But that would have to wait until later, right now he was behind in his morning routine. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone then.” If you won’t tell me, maybe their raven will.
Night after night has only been nightmare upon nightmare. Waking up, sweating, gasping, and feeling like there were eyes everywhere. But they were just dreams. Dreams aren’t real. Dreams shouldn’t scare you. But they did. And tonight was no different.
The sun wasn’t up yet, but you couldn’t fall back asleep. You didn’t get up either, staying in a fetal position, trying to rid the feeling of sticky ink and the sensation that you were being watched. “It was just a dream,” you whispered, “it was just a dream.”
“Dreams have meaning,” the throaty voice of someone said. Out of the darkness walked forward a raven, much like your own. “It is good to heed them.”
Dreams have meaning. “Who is the wolf then,” you ease out of the fetal position and sit up, staring at the raven. Your soul match’s raven.
Amongst the nightmares, the being that saves you is a large white wolf, standing between the darkness, the hands, and the eyes, protecting you. A white knight in furry armour if you will.
The raven clamoured into your lap, getting comfortable. “Thought it would have been obvious. The wolf is your soul match, dearie. Afterall, ravens are the messengers and companions of wolves.”
You knew that much already, and looked down at the wood raven. “That’s not what I meant, and you know that.” Why can’t they give me a straight answer? It’s not that difficult of a thing. “Who are they?”
The raven sighed and propped itself back up. “I cannot tell you that… but I may give you this; you know him. And he is closer than you think.” They perched themself on the window sill, the full moon backlighting their silhouette. “And he knows you. Why do you think he’s in your dreams? It’s a very special link, do treat it with care.” They took off into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You looked up to the sky, searching for answers. “Should I follow?” A brisk wind entered through the cracks of Ramshackle Dorm, ruffling the sheets and loose papers. It was cold, but in a comforting way. You closed your eyes and breathed in, and when you opened them again you saw glowing footsteps the colour of the harvest moon. 
You are ready. The breeze seemed to say. The time for waiting and second-guessing was over. Now was the time for action.
Jack was doing his morning workout session early since he couldn’t fall back asleep after that nightmare, and running tended to get his mind off of things. He was running laps when he noticed something glowing on the ground. Footsteps. “Did you have something to do with this?” He looked up to where his raven was flying overhead.
The raven swooped down, coming to glide by Jack’s head. “No, just some reassurance is all.”
“What did you tell them,” he huffed, speeding up his pace. The footsteps followed him, but they led outside of the field, to the tree that always grew flowers. That’s where they ended. That’s where I’ll meet them?
The raven soared overhead, looking between Jack and the tree, where someone was sitting patiently, picking at the hems of their sleeping clothes; you. “That they know you. And that they are a lot closer than you think.” The raven stopped in front of Jack, making the wolf-beastman stop right in his tracks. “Go to them. They are ready, Jack. And so are you. Can you feel it? It’s in the air.” 
 There was a slight breeze that carried the smell of winter, but there was something else. Anticipation. And if Jack focused just right, he could hear the anxious heartbeat of his soul match, waiting for him. He looked towards the tree, where his raven was looking, and saw your outline, the weakest hints of the waking sun rising behind you and lighting your features in soft pinks, purples, and orange.
The footsteps led to you. And Jack could feel his tail wagging furiously. Wagging so hard that it was hitting his legs.
Go to them.
He wanted to run forward, but he controlled himself to a calm walk, not wanting to surprise you. All while trying to control his tail which would be a dead giveaway that he was beyond happy that it was you; his soul match had been you all along.
You sat under the tree, as the footsteps lead you there. And so you sat, watching the dark navy of the sky change colours as the sun rose. You heard footsteps approaching you, but you didn’t look up or get up. You knew. You knew they were your soul match.
Closing your eyes you turned to them, and took in a deep breath. “I don’t know exactly what soul matches are, but I do know that I want to put in the effort to befriend you. Not because some raven told me too. But I do hope we can be friends at the least.” You stopped, waiting for his response.
Jack tilted his head, and huffed out a breath of air in amusement. “I don’t think that will be a challenge.”
Your eyes shot open, and Jack was sitting beside you, the light of the rising sun reflecting in his gold eyes. Your raven was on his shoulder, preening his hair, and his raven was on your’s, fixing your outfit. The two birds stopped their actions, realizing that both of you had finally noticed the other. They took off, and performed their dance before falling back onto your shoulders.
“So,” you started, picking at the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit. “What now? Does this change anything between us? Do you want anything to change?”
Jack looked at you softly. “I’m okay with whatever you’re comfortable with… Do you want anything to change?”
I feel safe with you. You gave him a soft smile, “Not really… but I’m okay if it changes as we do. As long as it’s together.”
Fin!
Author's Note; Jack's story is the one with the least amount of hurt/comfort, so he deviates a bit. Happy with how this turned out though! And I hope I did Jack some justice in this! This story also concludes Savanaclaw's part in the Soul Match AU.
TWST Masterlist (if you want to read more)
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