beaucate - Tumblr blog

beaucate · 5 days ago

Note

thinking bout getting high with t!fem nat... the two of you basically just sprawled out on her bedroom floor, passing the joint back n forth and giggling about stupid shit cause you're both too far gone to care. eventually the two of you get all close and giggly which ends up in a good fucking. yeah.

pairing: transfem!natalie scatorccio x gn!reader

genre: 18+

wc: 1,361

fic note. i didn't expect this to get so long idk what happened

· · 𖦹 · ·

nat who hogs the rest of the joint and teasingly blows the smoke in your face -__- thinkingggg. not being in a relationship with her yet but you're definitely not friends. so when she jokingly tells you that if you kiss her, she'll go grab another joint, you do. it's a small peck, but it's enough to have nat burning bright red and looking like a fool when she still has her lips pursed and eyes closed after you pull away. she can still feel your kiss burn on her lips as she gets out of her little daze, and she feels like she's floating after getting up and grabbing another joint.

nat who comes back and sits a little closer than she was before, and you just lie back and stare at the back of her head while she rolls the joint, your fingers tugging at her hard carpet. it honestly feels like you've sunk into it. you think that if you got up, you'd see the outline of your body on it.

nat who lights it up for you, twists her body around to face you, and holds it up to your lips for you to take a hit. once you've got your fingers wrapped around it, she drops her hand and scoots so she's on her back again. her shoulder is touching yours, and you can feel how hot her skin is. it's a comforting feeling.

you blow the smoke out of your lungs and watch it float around the room, the light spilling from nat's fucked up blinds making it look beautiful. you get lost in following the clouds of smoke that fly around the room, and nat clears her throat.

"don't hog it, you little bitch." nat teases, a big smile growing on her face when you snort and scrunch your face cutely.

"says the hogger." you mumble, grinning at her while she reaches a hand out and wiggles her fingers impatiently. you wink at her and take another long puff, watching as her wiggling fingers turn into the middle finger.

"that's it, i'm not inviting you over to smoke anymore." she fake pouts, turning her head away from you and looking up at the ceiling.

"you love me too much to stop inviting me." after blowing the smoke in her face, you hold the blunt out to her.

nat processes your words, turning her head slowly back to face you. you both look at each other like you know.

the room gets silent after that.

it's not really awkward, just quiet. it's nice, really. it's just you and her and the sound of her fan on medium speed.

thinking about gently playing with her hand during this silence. tracing over her palm, feeling her pulse, fingers scratching along her arm….eventually you just end up snuggling into her side. and eventually, you both go back to being giggly and talking about random shit.

thinking about having a leg hooked around her waist and slowly feeling her get hard the more you touch her. they're innocent touches, but she's so high and so sensitive and too far gone that she can't help but grow hard as you stroke her belly up and down with your nails. you're just making her feel all fuzzy and so good.

you can feel her hardness on your leg, and it makes heat spread all over your body. you're unsure what to do, or if she wants you to do anything at all, but you find yourself scooting down until you're level with her cock. you rest your head on her hip, toying with her belt. it's entirely too much work to try and get it off with your fuzzy brain, so you settle on making out with her bulge. she doesn't mind one bit. in fact, she's practically facefucking you as you lick and kiss her over her pants, even tries to pull them down while her hips are in the air.

sensitive nat who has to tell you to stop for a second so she can gather herself and pull them off <3 you use that time to rid yourself of your clothing, and it gives her the push that she needs to use all that brain power and pull her pants and panties off, and you can't help but laugh as she flails her ankles and shakes them off.

her pretty cock flops onto her stomach, tip so red and already leaking so much. when you pick it up with your hand, a thick line of her precum connects from her stomach to her cockhead. she's too far gone to even care about the pathetic groans spilling from her lips when you do so much as lube her cock up with her own pre <3 you think it's cute. and you find it adorable when you begin jerking her off slowly and she chases your hand with her hips.

nat who sneakily swiped your underwear after you took everything off….nat who clutches it in her hand while you give her the best handjob of her life (thinking about a few "friendly" handies you've given to her, but nothing beats this one).

she has to tell you to stop again, but this time it's because she doesn't wanna cum so soon. she wants to be inside while she cums. mmmh watching nat struggle to get up and walk over to her drawer so she can get a condom and fuck you <33

thinking about putting it on her while she adjusts her position on the bed because that floor is uncomfortable as fuck and she wants you to be comfortable the first time. thinking about nat's gentle hands gripping your hips and helping you onto her lap, nat who whimpers when her cock brushes against your groin.

all you feel is intense heat pool in your gut when she spits onto her hand and rubs it on your hole to lube you up. you feel so light and dizzy when she asks if you're ready, and after you nod and say yes, she slowly begins to insert her cock into you. she's gentle, eyes locked on your face and looking for any signs of pain or discomfort. she hits her head pretty hard on the headboard when she feels you clench around her cock, and you both giggle with each other. thinking about watching her smile slowly fade from her face and turn into a silent gasp as you sink further down on her dick, feeling her hips slowly rock into yours as she breathes heavily.

the second she bottoms out, it's over.

she can't help it.

she just starts slamming her hips into yours, arms wrapping around your waist to hold you up, giving you no time to adjust to her girthy cock. and it's so wonderful. there's slight pain at first, which makes you yelp and claw into her shoulders, but it quickly turns into pleasure. you just slump against her body, mind melting at each thrust, feeling so incredibly full with her girlcock pumping inside of you.

encouraging nat to cum <3 you can feel her tense up, so you start to ride her harder, moving your hips in circles and making sure she feels you deep in your stomach. nat who keeps grunting, "i'm gonna cum," to no one in particular, and you, who urges her to cum for you. her whole body trembles as she ejaculates into the condom, and she holds you close to her while more drops of cum flood out of her tip.

all she can do is pant and lie limply as you lift your hips and remove her cock from you. she lets out the cutest "wha?" ever as you slip off her condom, your hole throbbing at how much cum is inside of it.

thinking about kissing her lips softly before scooting up on the bed, turning so you're facing her feet, and placing a knee beside her head, and then another one. basically, 69ing while you toy with her cock because she hasn't made you cum yet <3

she shows you she knows how to eat.

219 notes · View notes

beaucate · 6 days ago

Text

Feelingggggg so gay rn

(From posts she’s tagged in on instagram!)

148 notes · View notes

beaucate · 7 days ago

Text

With Her I Die |35|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Thirty-Five: Labor Pains

warnings: mild arguing, mentions of animal butchering, sweat, manual labor, and the usual survival stuff.

note(s): summer's comin' for them just as ours is ending.

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson @serendippindots @mikuley @sleepyjackets @wnbawag @eatingouturmomrn

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

The first thing you notice when you stumble back into camp is how the light has changed. It's softer now, golden in a way that speaks of longer days and balmy nights ahead. Tiny wildflowers have started pushing through the forest floor—small white and yellow blooms that seem almost obscenely cheerful given your current circumstances. Spring is transitioning into summer, and somehow you've all survived long enough to see it.

The second thing you notice is Shauna, crouched over what looks like the remains of a deer, her hands stained red up to her wrists. She's got that focused expression she gets when she's working, the one where her whole world narrows down to the task at hand. It would be almost meditative if not for the visceral nature of what she's doing.

You're still catching your breath from hauling fallen branches back to camp—not technically firewood, you'd argued to yourself, just clearing debris—when she looks up and catches sight of you. Her eyes immediately go to the sweat beading on your forehead, then down to your dirt-stained clothes, then back up to your face with that particular look that means you're about to get lectured.

"What," she says, not bothering to wipe the blood from her hands, "did you do?"

"Define 'do,'" you reply, which is probably not the best way to start this conversation, but your brain is still catching up to your mouth.

Shauna's knife pauses mid-cut. "You're sweating."

"People sweat, Shauna. It's a natural bodily function."

"Not from 'existing peacefully,' they don't." She sets down her knife with deliberate care and stands, wiping her hands on the rag she keeps tucked into her belt. "So I'll ask again—what did you do?"

You can feel yourself getting defensive, which is ridiculous because you didn't technically break any promises. You moved some branches. You helped Tai with organizing supplies. You may have lifted a few things that were heavier than they looked, but nothing that qualified as actual manual labor.

"I helped Tai sort through some stuff," you say, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile.

"What stuff?"

"Just... stuff. Supplies. Light stuff."

Shauna's eyebrow does that thing where it climbs toward her hairline, the one that usually means she's already three steps ahead of whatever lie you're trying to construct.

"Light stuff that made you sweat through your shirt?"

You glance down at yourself and realize she has a point. Your shirt is definitely damp, clinging in a way that suggests you've been doing more than just organizing. But in your defense, it's gotten warmer, and you've been wearing layers since your injury because Shauna keeps fussing about you staying warm, and—

"It's hot," you say lamely.

Shauna makes a noise that somehow conveys both disbelief and resignation. She turns back to her deer, but you can tell from the set of her shoulders that this conversation isn't over.

"You know," she says, pulling the knife through what looks like a particularly tough section of hide, "most people would consider it progress that I'm not immediately rushing over to check if you've reinjured yourself."

"I haven't reinjured myself."

"That's not really the point."

"Then what is the point?"

She pauses in her work, looking up at you with an expression that's half exasperation, half something softer. "The point is that we had an agreement. Light activity. No heavy lifting."

"I didn't do any heavy lifting."

"Then explain the sweat."

"I explained the sweat. It's warm."

"You're being deliberately obtuse."

"You're being deliberately suspicious."

And just like that, you're bickering again. Not fighting, exactly, but that particular brand of back-and-forth that's become your default mode of communication lately. It's almost comfortable, in a weird way, like an old habit you can't quite shake.

"I'm being appropriately cautious," Shauna corrects, returning her attention to the deer. "There's a difference."

"Appropriately cautious would be trusting me to know my own limits."

"Your limits got you a broken leg in the first place."

"That wasn't about limits, that was about a storm and bad luck."

"Bad luck that happened because you were out in a storm doing something you probably shouldn't have been doing."

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. She's not entirely wrong, and you both know it.

"That's different," you say finally.

"How?"

"Because... it just is."

Shauna snorts. "Compelling argument."

You watch her work for a moment, noting the efficient way she breaks down the carcass. She's gotten good at this, the butchering. Better than any of you would have expected from the girl who used to complain about having to gut fish in biology class. But then again, you've all gotten good at things you never expected to be good at.

"You know what I was thinking about earlier?" you say, settling down on a nearby log. Your leg appreciates the rest, though you're not about to admit that to Shauna.

"How to give me premature gray hair?"

"The flowers."

This gets her attention. She glances up from her work, following your gaze to where the small white blooms are scattered across the forest floor like tiny stars.

"What about them?"

"Just... it's almost summer. We've been here almost a year."

Shauna's hands still for a moment, and you can see her doing the same mental calculation you've been wrestling with. A year. A full cycle of seasons in this place that was supposed to be temporary. A year of learning to survive, to adapt, to become people they never expected to become.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "We have."

"Do you think..." you start, then trail off. The question you want to ask feels too big, too loaded with implications you're not sure either of you are ready to face.

"Do I think what?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

But Shauna knows you too well to let it go. She sets down her knife again and really looks at you this time, her expression softening.

"Do I think we'll make it another year?" she asks gently.

The fact that she knew exactly what you were thinking shouldn't surprise you anymore, but it still does. You nod, not trusting your voice to stay steady.

"I think," Shauna says carefully, "that we've made it this far. And that's not nothing."

"That's not really an answer."

"It's the only answer I've got."

You nod again, understanding. None of you can think too far ahead anymore. The future has become something measured in days and weeks, not months or years. Planning beyond the next meal, the next storm, the next crisis feels like tempting fate.

"The flowers are pretty, though," you say eventually.

"They are."

"Very... optimistic."

"Very stupid, more like. Don't they know where they're growing?"

You laugh despite yourself. "Maybe that's the point. Maybe they're growing here because they don't know any better."

"Or maybe," Shauna says, returning to her work with renewed focus, "they're growing here because this is where they ended up, and they're making the best of it."

You watch her hands move with practiced efficiency, breaking down the deer into manageable pieces. She's gotten so competent at this, at all of it. The hunting, the butchering, the constant vigilance that keeps you all alive. Sometimes you forget she's the same girl who used to spend twenty minutes deciding which lip gloss to wear.

"I helped Tai move some supply crates," you admit suddenly.

Shauna's knife pauses. "How many crates?"

"Just a few."

"How few is a few?"

"Three. Maybe four."

"Maybe four."

"Okay, definitely four. But they weren't that heavy."

Shauna sighs, but there's no real heat in it. "You're impossible."

"I'm helpful."

"You're going to give yourself a setback."

"I'm going to go crazy if I have to sit around doing nothing for another week."

"It's been two days since Misty cleared you without the cane."

"Two very long days."

Shauna looks at you over the deer carcass, and you can see her working through it. The familiar calculation of risk versus your obvious need to feel useful, to feel like yourself again.

"Next time," she says finally, "ask me first."

"So you can say no?"

"So I can help."

This catches you off guard. You'd been expecting another lecture about taking it easy, about not pushing yourself too hard. The offer to help instead of hovering feels like progress.

"You're busy," you say, gesturing to the deer.

"I'm always busy. We're all always busy. That doesn't mean we can't help each other."

There's something almost shy in the way she says it, like she's not entirely sure how the offer will be received. And maybe that's part of the problem—you've both gotten so used to the careful dance around each other's boundaries that straightforward offers of help feel foreign.

"Okay," you say. "Next time I'll ask."

"Good."

"But I reserve the right to argue if you're being unreasonably protective."

"And I reserve the right to ignore your arguments if you're being unreasonably stubborn."

"Deal."

You shake on it, which requires Shauna to wipe her hands again first, and the gesture feels absurdly formal given that you're both covered in various degrees of dirt and sweat and probably smell like you haven't bathed in days. Which, to be fair, you probably haven't.

"So," you say, settling back against the log, "tell me about this deer. Good hunting today?"

"Nat got it. Clean shot, right through the heart." Shauna returns to her work, but there's less tension in her shoulders now. "Should keep us fed for a while."

"And Gen? How's she doing with the hunting thing?"

"Better than expected, actually. She's got good instincts. Quiet when she needs to be, patient enough to wait for the right shot."

You nod, filing this information away. Gen's integration into hunting has been smoother than anyone expected, her skills complementing Nat's in ways that make the hunting more efficient. It's good to have backup, especially as the days get longer and the game hopefully becomes more plentiful.

"You know what I miss?" you say, watching Shauna work.

"Besides everything?"

"Grocery stores. The meat section specifically. Just being able to walk up and grab a package of ground beef without having to, you know..." you gesture vaguely at the scene in front of you.

"Without having to know where it came from?"

"Without having to see its face first, yeah."

Shauna laughs, and the sound is lighter than it's been in days. "You know what I miss? Being even just a little squeamish about this stuff."

"I remember Jeff having you be the one to kill the spiders."

"Different skill set."

"Not that different, apparently."

She grins at that, and for a moment she looks like the girl you remember from before all this. Before the crash, before the survival, before the weight of keeping everyone alive settled on her shoulders like a mantle she never asked for.

"I'm getting good at it, though," she says, and there's a note of pride in her voice that makes something warm settle in your chest.

"You're getting good at a lot of things."

"So are you."

"I'm getting good at sitting around being useless."

"You're getting good at healing. And being patient, even when you don't want to be."

"I'm not patient."

"You're patient with me when I'm being overprotective."

"That's different."

"How?"

Now it's your turn to struggle for an answer. How do you explain that your patience with her comes from understanding, from recognizing that her protectiveness comes from care rather than control? How do you say that her hovering, while occasionally maddening, also makes you feel safer than you have in months?

"Because you're not doing it to be difficult," you say finally. "You're doing it because you care."

Something shifts in Shauna's expression, a softening around her eyes that makes your chest tight.

"I do care," she says quietly. "More than I probably should."

The admission hangs between you, loaded with implications neither of you is quite ready to unpack. You've been dancing around this for months now, the thing that's more than friendship but less than whatever comes next. The crash changed everything about your lives, including the careful boundaries you'd both maintained before.

"Caring isn't a bad thing," you say eventually.

"It is when it makes you stupid."

"You're not stupid."

"I'm something. Overprotective, overbearing, over-something."

"You're invested."

Shauna looks up from her work, meeting your eyes directly. "Is that what we're calling it?"

The question is gentle, but you can hear the real question underneath it. The one about what this is between you, what it means, where it might be heading. The one you've both been avoiding because survival has to come first, and complicated emotions feel like a luxury you can't afford.

"I don't know what we're calling it," you admit. "But I know I don't want you to stop caring."

"Even when it means arguing about supply crates?"

"Especially when it means arguing about supply crates."

Shauna smiles at that, shaking her head like she can't quite believe you both.

The sun is starting to sink lower, casting longer shadows across the camp. The little flowers seem to glow in the golden light, and you can hear the sounds of the others going about their evening routines. Cooking, cleaning, the quiet conversations that mark the end of another day survived.

"I should finish this," Shauna says, gesturing to the deer. "Get it processed before it gets dark."

"Want help?"

"You want to help me butcher a deer?"

"I want to do something useful."

Shauna considers this, then nods. "Okay. But just cutting, no heavy lifting."

"Just cutting," you agree.

She hands you a smaller knife, and you settle beside her, close enough that your shoulders almost touch. The work is messy and frankly a little gross, but there's something meditative about it too. The rhythm of it, the shared focus, the quiet conversation that flows around and through the task at hand.

"You know," you say as you work, "this is probably the weirdest date I've ever been on."

Shauna nearly drops her knife. "Date?"

"Figure of speech," you say quickly, though your cheeks are definitely warming. "Poor choice of words."

"Right. Poor choice."

But she's smiling as she says it, and when her hand brushes yours as you both reach for the same section of meat, neither of you pulls away immediately.

"Although," she says after a moment, "if this were a date, it would definitely be memorable."

"Worst first date ever?"

"Or best, depending on your perspective."

You look at her, trying to read her expression in the fading light. There's something playful there, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

"What's your perspective?" you ask.

Shauna meets your eyes, and for a moment the question hangs between you, loaded with possibility.

"My perspective," she says finally, "is that I'd rather be here, doing this, with you, than anywhere else doing anything else."

It's not exactly a declaration of love, but it's something. An acknowledgment of the thing you've both been carefully not naming. And maybe, in this place where survival comes first and the future is always uncertain, maybe that's enough.

"Good," you say, returning your attention to the deer. "Because you're stuck with me."

"Lucky me," Shauna replies, but there's warmth in her voice that makes the words feel like a promise.

The flowers around your feet seem to nod in the evening breeze, as if approving of this small moment of tenderness in a world that offers so few of them. Summer is coming, and somehow, against all odds, you're both still here to see it.

94 notes · View notes

beaucate · 14 days ago

Text

JANIE

pairing .ᐟ young!lottie matthews x fem!reader

warnings .ᐟ mdni. angst. so much angst with no happy ending. pre-established relationship. canon yj’s violence. allusions to smut. mentions of previous make outs. reader and lottie are doomed yuri.

summary .ᐟ lottie was your girl first, but you were slowly losing her to the wilderness | based off of janie by ethel cain :)

acknowledgements .ᐟ gif creds: @96yellowjackets | divider creds: @strangergraphics

easy to hate, easy to blame

shoot me down

things can change rather quickly; a lesson you’d learnt the moment your hand clutched lottie’s, her face pale with sick as the plane rumbled beneath your feet, the screams of your teammates adding to the unease of the damming moment, your heart in your stomach as you looked around at the chaos surrounding you both.

circumstances can change rather quickly; a lesson you’d learnt as the plane went down, your knuckles white with how hard you’d been squeezing your girlfriend’s hand, tears streaming down your face as you uttered your last goodbyes to the crisp air, swallowing as you prepared yourself for death, grateful to be dying in the arms of your beloved.

come on, hurt me

i'm wide open and deserving

but death had not come knocking just yet. your eyes opened to lottie ushering you out, your feet moving faster than your mind could keep up with, coughing due to the smoke from the fire in the cockpit, legs battered and cut from the crash; along with your other teammates, the forest floor crunched under your sneakers as you frantically exited the plane and breached the threshold to what you’d come to know as hell as time went on.

people can change rather quickly; a lesson you’d learnt as you watched yourself and your teammates change with the months spent in the wilderness; the innocent turning guilty; the sweet becoming bitter and angry; your own girlfriend, changing so rapidly before your very eyes.

before the plane crash, your relationship with lottie was everything and more you could ever hope for; she was yours and you were hers. during those times you’d struggled with your familial issues, she’d offer a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, a hand to hold and a kiss to the lips that grounded you more than you’d realised.

during those times where her mental health would plummet, you’d be there, helping her and letting her know you’d always be there, regardless of anything. you were wholly hers and you intended on showing it every chance you got.

grappling with the fear, hunger and death surrounding yourself and your teammates, change was inevitable; you yourself had changed, toughened by the wilderness and its hardships; so as lottie slowly changed, you paid no mind to it. you promised her you’d always be there for her and you intended on keeping that promise.

and you did; as her medication ran out, as the reality of the situation set in, your arms would be around her, reassuring her you’d be rescued in no time; this would be a bad hitch in the road to look back at and laugh, her head tucked into the crook of your neck as you comforted her, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as you sat before the fire, the other girls cooing at the display.

but the rescue never came; tensions only grew as the weather changed, hunger raw and persistent in your gut. anyone would change under these circumstances. they’d be forced to; hence why you hadn’t bat an eye at your girlfriend becoming more and more recluse.

please don’t leave me

i'll always need more

she had come to you one night, hand clutching yours as a newfound hope sparkled in her eyes; you were happy, she seemed to be getting back to her old self, back to the lottie you’d grown to love, that was until she’d told you why.

tales of the wilderness speaking to her, using her as vessel to provide for the team; these sentences falling on deaf ears as you stared at her in confusion, “It, it speaks to me—i can feel It, in my bones, buzzing in fingertips, tugging at my nerves—It wants us here, it brought us here for a reason,” she’d told you, your face falling at her words, the smile on her face unlike anything you’ve seen in the time since the crash.

her hand reached to cup your jaw, brown eyes black as her blown pupils found yours, “you believe me don’t you?” she spoke, her voice soft as she stroked your cheek.

your earlier promise rung through the crevices of your brain at her words, the smile on her face and the hope in her voice enough for you to let anything slide, your head nodding before you could even register it.

you promised her you’d always be there for her—and so you would, even if you didn’t believe this wilderness tale she was trying to convince you of. she kissed you at that, her hands moving into your hair as she pressed you to the wooden wall of the attic, her lips trailing down your jawline, one hand sneaking down to the waistband of your shorts.

one by one, a few of the other girls fell into her delusions, encouraging them, egging her on; and with each girl, she drifted further from you, the connection you had almost severed. you were nothing but an afterthought in her mind as she stayed hovering around a pregnant shauna, speaking of the wilderness providing life, another sign that they were meant to be there.

i know she's your girl now

but she was my girl first

you remember the day you chose to confront it, the all to huge elephant in the room, your cheek stinging due to the cold of winter, snow crunching under your boots as you followed lottie outside.

“hey, could we—could we talk, please?” you spoke softly, almost begging, no pleading with her to give you some semblance of recognition.

she stopped in her tracks, turning to face you as a smile graced her features, “of course we can,” she hummed, the cold wind biting at her cheeks, a red hue dusting them along with the tip of her nose.

you sighed, looking down at your feet before speaking up, voice shaky as you thought of the right way to confront her, “are we—are we okay? just feels like we don’t talk as much anymore—and i-i don’t want to lose you,” you frantically spoke, blinking back any tears that threatened to spill.

her brows creased at the crack in your tone, only realising then just how she’d been neglecting you, immediately stepping forward to envelope you, her arms making their way around your shoulders, bringing you into her chest.

“i didn’t realise—i’m sorry—i’ve been so occupied with, with the baby—with the wilderness—with connecting with It,” she huffs, her heart thumping against your ear, putting your frantic nerves at ease, head nodding as you listened, her body warmth seeping into yours.

“i shouldn’t have pushed you away—i didn’t mean to—we’re fine, we always will be—you won’t lose me,” she reassured you, pulling back to wipe the tear that had broken through the threshold, from your cheek.

she led you back to the cabin, the warmth from the fireplace a relief from the cold outside; her hand was in yours for the first time in a long time, her other hand resting on your waist as you cuddled up near the fire, her lips to your ear as she whispered praises to you, telling you all about how the wilderness would speak to her, mentioning off handedly how It liked the two of you together, occasionally reminiscing on times before the plane crashed, thinking back to those memories you held so dear.

she kissed you that night, kissed you like her life depended on it, kissed you like there was no one else in the room, transporting you back to those times you’d kiss in the locker rooms before a game, when you’d share a chaste kiss in her car before she dropped you home—taking you back to the first time you made love with one another.

your lips slotted against hers, chapped lips rough against your own; but you didn’t care, not with how sweet she was being, how you finally felt like you were getting her back.

that night you fell asleep in her arms, the tips of your fingers tracing her facial features as she slept, trailing them from the scar on her forehead, brushing her bangs aside before trailing your soft touch down the side of her face, lingering on her kiss bitten lips before allowing your hand to fall just over hers, lottie’s hand interlacing with yours on instinct.

she reassured you plenty, but deep down, deep down swirling in your gut, the wilderness was letting you know that it had its claws sunk deep into lottie now, that it would come first in her life now and as much as you told yourself otherwise, as much as you tried to ignore the gnawing feeling as you watched her peacefully sleep there, some part of you knew it was true.

she was my girl first

summer had finally arrived; gone were the cold evenings spent chewing on the flesh of your friends, swallowing back each piece of meat with a sob mixed with incredible guilt, your eyes sunken in as you heard some of the other girls thanking the wilderness.

you hadn’t spoken to lottie in a bit, always out when you’d wake up in your shared hut, always off on her own deep into the woods, or having hushed conversations with travis or akilah.

you had your fleeting moments here and there, her hand on your thigh as you’d get ready to sleep, her arm rounding your waist as she slept with her face in your neck; but it wasn’t the same, it never was anymore.

i can see the end in the beginning of everything

and in it, you don’t want me

but I still play pretend like I won't watch you leaving

the day you realised you’d fully lost her was that fatal night, your eyes finally filled with the hope of going home, as you watched the three strangers approach. so many of the questions on the tip of your tongue were harshly pushed right back down your throat the moment you witnessed lottie axing one of the stranger’s in the skull, the sound of his cranium cracking open, blood sprouting from his skull echoing through your mind as you watched his body fall, the smile on her face menacing and covered with blood as she looked from the body up to you.

“no no no,” you whispered, your hands coming up to cover your mouth as you kept your gaze to the dead fellow on the forest floor, the other two strangers he’d arrived with sprinting off, the yells of the rest of the girls drowning out as they pushed past you to follow after them, the only pressing issue in your mind being that of your girlfriend.

“what did you do?! lottie what the fuck did you do?!!” you yelled, your voice hoarse as you cried out, all of the emotions you’d bottled up spilling from the crack, your hands gasping her wrists as you shook her with fervour, repeating your words over and over as you tugged at her. the desperation to be home, to be normal again, to have your lottie back, ripped away from your grasp just as fast as it had arrived.

“they don’t belong,” she exclaimed, nostrils flared as she stared at you like you’d offended the gods with your question. you were supposed to understand her—you were the one person to always understand her—you promised her.

“it doesn’t want them here,” she spoke harshly, those soft brown, bambi eyes of her’s you found yourself getting lost in, harsh and cold now, piercing your skin with her stare, you head only shaking in response.

“you—we could’ve been home—could’ve gone back home—they could’ve helped us lottie!” you yelled, looking away as your chest heaved with each sob wracking through your being, the entire world crashing down onto you.

she looks taken aback by your words, blinking down at you in almost genuine confusion, the scent of copper strong as you stared at her in disbelief, blood scattered all across her beautiful, angel like features.

her resolve crumbles for a moment, shaking your grip from her wrist to lift her one hand to your cheek, her features softening despite the gruesome nature of the moment.

i will always love you

“hey hey—look those strangers were going to ruin everything—everything It has given us—i didn’t want that for us—for you,” she whispers, pleading with you to understand, her palm warm against your tear stained cheeks, her thumb moving to run across your bottom lip.

for a split second you almost fall for it, for a split second she almost looks like the lottie you fell in love with, but the crack of the stranger’s skull giving way under the axe, reverberates through your brain, snapping you out of it.

i will always

“jesus christ lot what does that even mean? do you hear yourself!?” you scoff, breaking down as you try and push her hand away, “i tried—i tried so fucking hard to get—to get with all of this,” you pause—gesturing to her and the wilderness as a whole, “but it’s—it’s too much—i miss you—i miss my lottie—i miss my girl,” you desperately cry, your voice shaky as you come terms with it all, swallowing back the bile rising in your throat.

her eyes are wide with disbelief as she looks down at you, stepping back almost as if your words had scorned her. “but—i’m still that girl—i still love you—look you don’t get it and that’s fine—but you’ll see—you’ll see i promise you’ll see and it’ll all make sense baby,” she hums, attempting to reach out to you again but you shake your head, putting distance between you both.

you'll keep changing

i will stay the same

that exact moment made it all clear to you, an epiphany of some sorts—she wasn’t your girl anymore—she belonged to the wilderness now.

and maybe she hadn’t been yours for a while now—maybe you were just kidding yourself this entire time—but that inner most part of you always clung to that single strand of hope that things would go back to the way they were; that you’d be hers wholly and she’d be yours again; but she kept changing and you stayed the same. your love for her stayed the same.

you shook your head, frantically wiping at your tears, the sounds of the forest loud as you came back to reality, the girls shouting in the distance, the crackling if the bon fire, the twigs and leaves crunching under your feet as you stepped another inch away from her, her face falling as you did so; confusion, hatred and anger making her head a mess.

“i don’t even know who you are anymore,”

but maybe you never did.

i will always love you

i will always

۶ৎ THANK YOU FOR READING 🐇

۶ৎ TAGS: @bluemerakis @lowrisemiller @lacelottie @littlejoels @callsignwidow @boycigs @dollyfiles @pittsick

۶ৎ WANT TO JOIN MY TAGLIST?

۶ৎ ALL LIKES, COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED 🍓

꩜ .ᐟ courtney eaton + characters m.list

142 notes · View notes

beaucate · 26 days ago

Text

DO NOT COME TO TUMBLR PLEASE!!! WE DO NOT WANT U HERE WE DO NOT WANT THIS OVERDONE DISCOURSE

#adult Shauna kiss Jackie yes PLEASE

99 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

save me butch Shauna save me

dating butch!shauna shipman.

꩜ warnings.. none.

꩜ words.. 446

✎ᝰ. jinx notes.. save me butch!shauna save me...

You remember the first time you saw Shauna. She was sitting on the windowsill of the bar, her denim jacket ripped, her short hair messy from the wind. an unlit cigarette between her fingers—just for show, like everything about her that looked dangerous, but wasn’t. Or maybe it was. You still weren’t sure.

He looked at you like someone choosing a song on the radio. A direct, decisive look, without any ceremony. When he smiled, your knees weakened in a way you had only read about in books.

Shauna speaks softly, sometimes stumbles over her words and always tries to sound more confident than she really is. She asked you out with a shaky voice and a pack of candy in her hand — “If you don't want to, that's okay, I'll eat it myself." You accepted before she collapsed.

Shauna calls you “sweetie” in a deep, lazy voice, offers you the last slice of pizza even though he says he’s starving, and lends you his loose clothes as if he wants you to carry his scent all day long. And you do.

She takes you to see bad movies and laughs at the wrong times. She forgets important dates, but sends you memes at three in the morning saying “this is just like you”. She always walks around with her headphones tangled up in her pocket, but somehow she always has a playlist made for you.

He likes to fix things—lamps, bicycles, your grandma’s old stereo. You like to watch. You like the way he frowns when he’s concentrating, the way the light catches the silver chain he never takes off his neck.

When you walk down the street holding hands, Shauna holds on tight. You see how some people stare, but Shauna doesn't let go. And you learn not to let go either.

That night when you cried for something you couldn't even explain, she didn't ask anything. She just pulled you into her arms, pressed your face against her chest and stayed there, quiet, as if the silence were also a type of care.

But he's still a loser anyway, he brings you instant coffee when you're sad, even if you hate instant coffee. He tries. He always tries. Even when he think he’s doing everything wrong, he shows up. — with his heart in his hands, even if he doesn't know what to do with it.

You are still surprised by the tenderness she holds beneath that shell. And you find yourself thinking, from time to time, that if the whole world collapsed, you would still find shelter in her arms. Because with Shauna, even chaos seems to have a home.

taglist: @moesthoughts, @javizheart, @antlertruths, @mistynatsfavourite

233 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Note

sixteen carriages plays every time I remember Shauna shipman isn’t real, That’s how bad it hurts. Anyways!

can we get a Drabble based off climax by usher(glorious ahh song, give it a listen)?

-🐰

climax. ᥫ᭡ shauna shipman.

a/n · wellll my requests are closed, but it’s a short drabble so…. :3

꒰ ꒱ CW . yellowjackets typical antics. canon compliant. angst, because it’s the only thing I know how to write. infidelity but it’s on Jeff so who cares. suggestive. post-rescue. slight spoilers for s3. (๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘) 1k words. no beta, we die like half the cast.

There was a reason you and Shauna had earned the title ‘Fire and Ice’ before the plane went down. Jackie was gentle rain, extinguishing the inferno that burned in Shauna, melting the ice around what you proclaimed was a heart of stone. The mediator, the martyr, the pariah in some ways garnering resentment from both of you for being so….pure. Innocuous, for lack of a better word.

She didn’t have the burning rage that Shauna had, she didn’t have your frigid demeanour. Her death was preventable and yet you didn’t raise a finger to stop it. If there was anyone who could’ve, it was you. But you didn’t. You brushed it off as a tiny fork in the road that didn’t concern you, didn’t need your involvement. You weren’t the peacemaker and you certainly weren’t the peacekeeper.

The only person to stand up to Shauna, to dump ice water on her flaming head, to match her fight head on and knock her off her high horse of misery and self-pity. It’s what made your love tick— the messy, fervid struggle for control that was more a tug-of-war game between children vying for each other’s attention.

When Shauna rose to power, you were right there— her consecrated consort, the cool one in the face of adversity who managed to somehow talk her down from the murderous rampage she had flown into after finding out about Natalie’s successful operation to call for help.

The attraction between you was stormy, tiptoeing the line of being a danger to both of you. Canines drawing blood, rough nails that had been pared off with a knife coated with the essence of others, digging into scarred skin, hands that touched you like sickles, kisses saccharine enough to rot the harvest.

Now here you lay, Shauna’s head a weight on your stomach where the shirt you stripped off her back has risen up, sprawled out in a tangle of limbs on your childhood bed, passing a blunt back and forth, the scent of hunger and smoke tangling with the innocence of a room that was no longer yours— the picture of domestic indolence. Nobody could tell what had happened to you, what you had been through, if they didn’t look into your eyes, where the light had long since drained.

But then again, you’ve always been a savant at pretending everything’s fine, haven’t you?

“You seem pretty morose for a blushing bride-to-be.”, you comment dryly, your voice holding a serrated edge that sharpens against Shauna’s ears, sharp as the knife she held so treasured out there.

She lifts her head up at you, the same eyes that burned with wildfire once now dimmed down to an insipid black. “You know I have no choice.” She’s searching for pity. Hard luck that she’s forgotten who she’s talking to.

The response comes just as she expects it. “Yeah? I don’t seem to remember you having any such qualms when you were fucking your dead best friend’s boyfriend— willingly, might I add.” Cold air, potent and heavy, stinging her flushed cheeks like it had slinked in through a cracked window.

“Point taken.” Her head droops back onto your lap, groaning. There’s some malaise in the atmosphere now, lingering resentment and angst that won’t fade. There had been a choice to make. It was either you played perfect housewife with Jeff or she did. Mrs. Taylor was insistent on it. And you made Shauna take the fall, of course. Not your crime, not your time.

You take another lazed hit of your joint, rustling her tousled hair affectionately. She jolts up, her ironically frigid hand grabbing yours, a juxtaposition to the warmness of your palm. Ah. There’s that fire you’ve missed. She has an idea. A lurid one, judging by the twitch of her lips. You eye her, leery.

“We could run away.” The cadence of her voice is urgent, breathless— like she’s running to catch a leaving train. You stare at her dourly, and then sigh, exhuming smoke fumes right into her face. She doesn’t so much as flinch as you put it out in your makeshift ashtray.

“Us? Run away together? We’d kill each other before we make it past the edge of town.” You huff, squeezing her cheeks between the pads of your rough fingers— gentle, but stern. A warning. To stop dreaming of what can never happen.

Her nails, no longer jagged as you remember them to be, dig into your thighs, leaving crescent shaped marks that you have no doubt will be covered up by the garishly extravagant maid of honour dress tomorrow. “If you die on me”, she grits out, her voice grating, “I’ll eat your heart.”

It takes a bit of time for you to snap out of your stupor. You sort through the hash in your mind, searching for the appropriate response to what you know is a serious declaration.

“If you die”, you say just as somberly, like you’re attending a funeral, “I won’t write you a eulogy.”

She gives you a once over before letting out a snicker that soon turns into raucous peals of laughter from both of you. You’re just kids here, not the monsters forced to grow up, not the beasts that have been tamed after so long of being rabid.

Shauna’s head goes lax on your lap, melting into your thighs with that devil-may-care attitude you know so well. “We wouldn’t even make it past the gates of the venue, huh?”

“Nope.” You say in a cheerfully chipper voice that does nothing to hide your rancour. “Mrs. Taylor would probably come for us with a gun, locked and loaded.” You clear your throat and assume a falsetto, scrunching up your face.

“And where do you missies think you’re going?” you mimic in what could not be a more terrible impression of a doddery old lady, but is rewarded by the unladylike snort that emits from the dark head on your lap.

You sink back into your low spirits as fast as you emerged. Your hands card through the dark locks that can never truly be washed free of the blood, the scent of woods and bitterness of starvation.

“You’re going to be a married woman tomorrow, Shauna.” your heart is loaded down by the weight of that information. That you’ll be there, in a dress that isn’t white, standing not opposite to Shauna on the aisle, but next to her as she promises her heart to another, expected not to projectile vomit all of duck egg white satin curtains (meticulously hand picked, of course). The girl who’s always been yours.

It’s imperative and it’s inexorable. Nothing you do would stop it. Your fate’s been set in stone since you let her into your heart, since you let her burn off the stalagmites guarding your love. You feel strangely jilted, even if you were never together.

There’s, of course, the unspoken that she’s technically already his. The douche had been too eager, probably more so for the gratuity money than actually for her, and had signed the papers as soon as the word ‘yes’ shaped in her mouth. But that thought rankles you far worse than the others.

“And I’m leaving after the wedding.” you continue, desultory, forcing her chin up to look at you, really look for what may very well be the last time. “I have to let you go.”

How anticlimactic. The souls that were so tangled with each other that their strings were knotted into loops, have now been separated by the looming scenario of her, living a woefully boring life with a milquetoast man and you, off with the wind, letting life do whatever it wishes to you.

No more emotionally charged arguments, no more surreptitious make-up visits, no more of that familiar dance that’s been yours for longer than you can remember. Really, you could almost cry like a child, a lover seeing their darling off at a train station for a sabbatical. Only, this one’s permanent. And she was never yours, not really.

Shauna ensconces you in her arms, hands gripping onto the shirt that still smells like her, looking up at you with eyes you could paint in your sleep. She’ll always be your fire, the heat that scorches your welcoming arms. “Then stay with me. Just for tonight. One last time.”

You can give her that. The final climax of a ‘love story’ (if you could even call it that) that was always hurtling towards an unhappy ending at breakneck speed.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

TAGLIST. @f4riedimples , @scatorcciosbabe

117 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

wilderness ( girlfriend ) shauna hcs ˎˊ˗

warnings : ( ♯6 ) fem reader . toxic ! shauna . season 3 shauna . physical touch . mentions of jackieshauna . canon divergence .

wilderness shauna who » hates how hopeful you are

she doesn’t really mean to be such a debby downer , but it’s hard to keep spirits up out there . besides , it’s easier for her to get what she wants from you when you’re upset . when you bring up in conversation how you’re gonna get your life together once you get rescued , she gives a scoff and rolls her eyes . you ask her “what ?” and she mumbles a “nothing . i just can’t believe you still think we’re getting rescued . c’mon , it’s been months .”

and you can’t deny that . things were getting worse , and not just between the two of you . she’s gotten more controlling , even , despite being free from everything else . she barged into your shared hut after dark one night , arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed . you could already tell by her expression and heaving breaths it wasn’t gonna be good news . “what did you say to hannah ?” is what she spits out . of course , you can’t remember . so , you give a little shrug and a shake of your head . “i dunno , uh . .” all she could do is stare at you , awaiting your answer . “i’ll help you jog your memory . about going home ? getting rescue ? how hunting’s been going good ? why would you tell her ?” you’re confused . were you not supposed to tell hannah about your hopes of getting rescue ? did shauna think hannah would try to sabotage getting help ? when you don’t tell her why you were speaking to her , she huffs . “it’s whatever , just don’t talk to her again , alright ?” and who are you to deny your leader ?

wilderness shauna who » needs her hands on you

to her , you’re simply something to toy with , something to keep her busy . she’s needed that for a while . the only person who she could play around with was jackie , and . . everyone knows how that went .

in group settings , she very rarely used to look at you , but now , it’s like a switch was flipped in her brain . her mindset is easy to understand , really . “i probably won’t live for much longer , fuck it .”

her idea of touching you is usually tugging you by the sleeve of your shirt , or by the belt loop on your shorts . she doesn’t care to be gentle with anyone , when no one’s gentle with her . she’ll accept a hug from you , but only if it’s from behind . it’s easier to imagine you as jackie that way .

she’ll only kiss you if she’s the one to initiate it . she needs to feel in charge among all the chaos . it’s grounding for her . she’d see you sitting around , probably chatting with someone , when she comes over and grabs your hand , rushing out of the camp . “wha- where are we going ?” you ask her , stumbling behind the brunette , barely catching your breath . “you’ll see .”

when you finally arrive at your destination , she’s already pushing you against a tree , or to the ground . she hates to say it , but she’s desperate . her hands are glued to your waist and neck the entire time , giving neither of you enough room to breathe . her hands are hot , aggressive and her kiss is bruising . it hurts , but you can’t complain when your body is buzzing all over .

wilderness shauna who » has such a sarcastic personality

before the drawing of the cards , you’re panicking . can you be blamed ? your entire life is on the line , but that’s not exactly unusual , considering the circumstances . you’re sat on an old animal hide , practicing your breathing exercises that your guidance counsellor taught you when you were an anxious freshman. then , shauna steps in , so quietly it startles you when you look up to see that it’s her . “what’s up with you ?” she asks , glaring down at you with a smug look on her face . “shauna , what if it’s me ? what if i get the card ?” and shauna , being great at dissolving situations , replies “well , what if it’s me ? huh ? big deal .” and when that doesn’t wipe the disgustingly nervous expression off your face , she sighs . “look , if it’s you . . i promise i’ll kill you quickly and get it over with , ‘kay ?” she chuckles , raising an eyebrow , then walks out , leaving you no less anxious than you were before .

wilderness shauna who » is a chronic clothes stealer

to her , not one item of yours is yours anymore . she has claimed all of your stuff long before you even realised . so , when she finds you in a shirt that you own , or wearing a headband with your name written on the tag , she won’t stay quiet about it . “that’s my shirt .” she states . you look down , and sure enough , it’s your shirt . one that you bought in ‘95 for a trip to miami . “what are you talking about ? this is mine .” and she shakes her head , a slight frown on her lips . “no , uh , it’s mine . you don’t remember ? i wore it on the flight .” and you know she definitely did not . she wore that flannel . “just- look , i wanna wear it .” she finally says , holding her hand out . you’re surprised . “even trade . i’ll give you my shirt if you give me that one .” she says , gesturing vaguely towards you . “fine .”

once you’ve given her your shirt , and you hers , she’s basically decided that you share everything . she owns everything you own . and you . there’s no way of escaping her now .

wilderness shauna who » is the biggest bitch on planet earth and you still want her .

LISTENING TO : mx by deftones . rivet gun by mother soki .

172 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ Oh to be Shauna’s wilderness girlfriend.

139 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

🔪 ₊ ⊹ you're the customer she becomes obsessed with .ᐟ

pairing. shauna shipman x fem!reader includes. post-rescue thoughts with plot. stalker & creepy behavior from shauna because reader reminds her of jackie. bit ooc. a/n. thought of this concept & immediately started rambling, barely proof-read & short but this is what i thought of .ᐟ

₊ ⊹ thinking about shauna who starts working at a local supermarket a year after from being rescued from the wilderness. she hates it with a passion, hates how her life turned out to be so boring and meaningless than expected. she had her moment of glory out in the wilderness but it was taken away from her like always, like the ones who were ripped out of her arms.

₊ ⊹ shauna who hates her managers who are rarely even there, hates her co-workers who flirt with her despite being a decade or two older than her, even the customers with their expired coupons and impatient kids.

₊ ⊹ until one day, after repeating the same phrase in her monotone voice every time someone checks out, “hi, how did you find everything today? will that be cash or card?” – she’s startled when you actually take the time to respond, "everything's been good, thank you…shauna? that’s a pretty name.” because she recognizes that voice…that familiar raspy tone, that instantly makes her internally panic. thinking it’s some other kind, fucked-up hallucination she used to have during the first winter, she immediately looks up and sees it's just you, yet she still goes pale. somehow, you just look and speak like her. like jackie.

₊ ⊹ and it causes shauna to be dangerously hooked in an instant. your features kind of resemble to jackie’s, the same rasp in your tone that she used to carry, even dressed like her in a way. it scares shauna, but ignites something within her that desperately, desperately wants to crawl out from under her skin and sink into you. she doesn't even know who you are, yet wants to, needs to.

₊ ⊹ unfortunate for you (yet fortunate for her), you accidentally leave your wallet at the register, too busy putting your groceries in your bags while having a short chat with her. she holds onto it, stares at your ID and she can’t help but trace over your features. reminds her of the times she used to lay awake in jackie’s bed, studying her features while she slept.

₊ ⊹ she’s a good person, holding onto it until you realize your mistake. otherwise, she would’ve driven to your address to return it. but that’d be too soon. so she’ll wait, even if she’s impatient.

₊ ⊹ but you do end up returning the next day, searching for her, and she gladly gives it back. luckily she had taken photocopies of your information beforehand to look back to. memorizing your address to the t.

₊ ⊹ shauna who looks forward to coming into work because the chances of you shopping every now and then are high, and you always end up in her line. slowly but surely building a connection. she’s more interactive than ever and it kind of alarms her co-workers, like what?

₊ ⊹ shauna who looks back on the security cameras, focusing on your expressions and mannerisms as you shopped. it’s like seeing jackie again, walking, breathing. living the simple life she could’ve had.

₊ ⊹ shauna who “accidentally” bumps into you in every aisle you’re in, always helping you at every chance she gets. it gives her the excuse to really take you in up close, to really relish in the moment every time you speak.

₊ ⊹ shauna who suggests you to buy a certain product, knowing that it used to be jackie's favorite.

₊ ⊹ she knows a lot more about you than you think, like the hour you leave to work from home, it gives her the opportunity to break in so easily because you’re so forgetful when it comes to locking the back door.

₊ ⊹ shauna who takes her time in observing everything in your home: the books you like to read, your pictures of yourself, with family or friends, even your clothes. she leaves with your striped crewneck by the end of it.

₊ ⊹ sleeping with it at night. holding it close and inhaling your scent. what a coincidence that you and jackie share the same fruity perfume? strawberry and rich honey.

₊ ⊹ shauna who keeps a separate journal that documents all of the interactions you two had. tallies all the times you smiled and laughed at her little comments.

₊ ⊹ even knowing the brands you always purchase, she even buys them for herself to feel a connection with you. you like a certain tea? she doesn’t like tea at all but she’s trying it. you mentioned that you wanted to get into baking and bought materials just to make cookies as a start? she’s trying out a new hobby too. she accommodates your interests like she did with jackie.

₊ ⊹ even if shauna swore she never liked being in jackie’s shadow, she crawled back into that tight space upon returning home for comfort.

₊ ⊹ shauna who always has to hold back her tongue to avoid in saying inside-jokes that her and jackie used to share so casually. has to remind herself every single time that you’re not her. but you could be, eventually.

₊ ⊹ she fantasies about bumping into you outside of work. in a public space, but she doesn’t want to be too eager and ask straight up, she can’t make it obvious how badly she wants to spend time with you. so she stalks you from afar, studies where you go. notes all the times of activities and errands you make.

₊ ⊹ all to plan for the right moment to see you in public and make conversation. all to get closer. all to tether her strings with yours, with jackie’s once more.

302 notes · View notes

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

uni over officially !! summer has started and I’ve been dreaming of finally writing again 😫😖

1 note · View note

beaucate · 2 months ago

Text

shauna strapman x fem!reader (s3 shauna) bcz u can't tell me this isnt the most hottest, toxic, manipulative, mean lesbian boyfriend coded she looked #needthat

cw: NSFW, mean n jealous shauna ofc, sub!reader, oral sex (r reciving), r is into shaunas toxicity bc why not, just horny hcs that i made on a rush lmao, mari’s kinda into u if u squint enough, maybe just to piss shauna off but i mean it doesnt matter cuz who on earth wont be into you(?

MINORS, CISHET PPL DNI important notes<3: i need her french tip so bad

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚

༘⋆ she’s mean, i mean after all she has been through, the crash, jackie, her baby, javi, being the butcher even if she didnt want to, you're the only friend she has left, the only one keeping her a little sane (not at all but yeah)

༘⋆ so of course she feels that you need a hard hand so you can stay in your place, without risking your life, worry her, or sometimes spending too much time with mari because if theres something she hates is knowing that mari KNOWS u are her weakness, she cant stand seeing how mari watches u from afar, how she caress your hand slightly and reassured you when u go and vent to her how some chores are annoying asf and she even offers to help you because shauna knows damn well mari is gonna take advantage of that and try to make a move on you.

༘⋆ and she confirms that one day you came to her with a small hand made bouquet of flowers, talking about of a “good friend” Mari is,i that she gifted you this small bouquet bc you got frustrated that everytime you tried to make one it failed

༘⋆ that lead to your first fight, because WHY on earth would you let that moron gift you that when she can make it ten times better, when you know that all u need is told her you need help w something and she's right there helping you, or even better, just doing it herself, she doesn't care because its you after all, besides you were hers and only hers right?!!

༘⋆ she just drags you from your arm to her hut and yells at you what’s your fucking problem and that whatever u have going on with mari ends from that day or shit gonna get worse, you could see how her hands get veiny from the pressure shes putting in them to not try and jump mari and get a time out from nat again, how she starts sweating from the anger, shauna doesnt knows you’re into that..

༘⋆ into seeing her get angry at you, possessive, toxic and overprotective, to treat you like you are her property and hate fuck you, and ofc because you know that’ll help her realease stress, stop being a shit head for some time and a headache for nat and because after that you can get a small glimpse from the old shauna, the affective, sweet one, the one who lets you pamper her after sex, caress her hair, kiss her and lets you be the big spoon because with this small actions you can reassure her that no matter how lower she may fall you’ll always be there for her

༘⋆ so you just shut her with a hungry kiss, because when shauna gets like this you know its gonna be the fuck of your life.

༘⋆ theres no way to get a strap in the wilderness but i know her tongue do the work, the way she pushes you onto her mattress or whatever was the attempt of a bed, kiss you hungrily while unzipping your pants and sliding her hand under your panties

༘⋆ gives you a mocking look when she feels the wetness patch on your underwear.

“So you enjoy this? enjoy the way you make me mad just so we end up like this”

“I mean, when are you not mad?

༘⋆ how can you not enjoy it? the more jealous and mad she gets the better her finger circles ur clit, rough and desperate, giving you exactly what you want, at least make the jealousy worth it right?

༘⋆ starts a trail from your neck to your cunt with wet kisses, i know damn well shauna has a perfect tongue work, the way she licks and sucks on your inner lips and entrance like trying to absorb you all, her tongue pushing all the way down with a desperate rhythm making you squirm while your fingers tighten the grip on her hair and your legs closing around her head everytime you see how her brown eyes meets yours giving you a dangerous look that makes you feel your orgasm.

༘⋆ and as soon as she’s done with you comes the second best part that you enjoy the most, being able to hold her, hug her and try and gain a little bit of the old shauna.

༘⋆ she lies next you, no looks, no talk, nothing, the way she always behaves after is how you know she needs reassurance, maybe she feels bad for always treating like that to the point you just accept it, maybe she feels guilty for being the way she is now, whatever the reason you just hold her, hug her and let her sleep on your arms, hoping she knows that no matter how she is to you, you will always be there for her.

ur love for shauna is simply too much to let the weight of her traumas put a toll on your relationship<3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚

do not translate w/o permission, copy or use for ai training, train your useless brain instead<3

279 notes · View notes