#THEN YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM AT HIS ‘Friends…makes me feel all fuzzy to hear that 😊’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

padfootagain · 5 months ago

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Only an Almost (XIX)

Chapter 19: Ascent

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

We only have two chapters left, including this one :(

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 5157

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew was never more aware that he was getting older.

The hangover that was stabbing his temples with daggers was the best reminder of all.

Details from the end of the night were fuzzy, at best. He wasn’t certain how he got home, but he had somehow managed to reach his bed. He was still wearing his shirt and pants from the wedding, his hair was a mess, but that was nothing compared to the fog that clogged his brain.

He made a stop by the kitchen first to drink some water, prepared some strong coffee. He splashed some cold water on his face to clear his head. Christ… he needed a shower. Maybe two.

He could recall a cab driver, some very loud music, jumping up and down with the beat, Sam and Daphne laughing, getting drunk on purpose…

… and then there was you lying in bed, fast asleep, him kissing your forehead in a chaste kiss, tucking you in, helping you through the mansion, finding you in the park, the fear of not knowing where you were, him singing that song to you even if the dance was meant for the married couple…

He could hear your voice ringing in his ears, echoing through his head, beating in his heart. Words that rang again and again. Words that he had dreamt of hearing.

He took a couple of deep breaths, and let the unkind voice in his head take over. You were drunk. You didn’t mean it. You said it yourself you didn’t want to be in a relationship, and especially not with him. You were scared, you didn’t want to take the risk, didn’t want to make the sacrifices that a long-distance relationship would require, not for him, at least, because he wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t enough and you didn’t love him, you were just drunk, you didn’t mean it…

He turned on his phone, checked the time. It was already 1pm.

Messages from his friends, from Sam and Daphne, one from his mom, a few from his label…

… and then 10 from you.

He swallowed thickly, but touched your name first anyway.

Hi! I hope you got home safely last night.

First, thank you for taking care of me. I was drunk… obviously

A true gentleman, as usual.

I’m so sorry you had to see that. I was hammered. I wasn’t myself and I said things I shouldn’t have.

Andrew had to stop reading. He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, bracing for the rejection that was sure to come… again.

Still, he read on.

I know that I’ve fucked up, and that you don’t want to see me anymore. Which is perfectly understandable, and I completely respect your decision. I had no intention to contact you again. It was completely out of line for me to confess my feelings.

Andrew read that last sentence several times, before rushing to the next text.

I’m sorry about what happened. I know you don’t want to see me anymore, and again, I completely understand. I was an idiot and I’ve fucked up everything. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I won’t ask for it. At this point, I just hope that what I said last night didn’t make things even worse.

I know that you’ve probably moved on by now, and I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t even expect an answer to these texts, and I will simply not contact you again if you choose not to answer. I guess that alcohol simply made me reveal things I would rather not have confessed. I trust you not to tell anyone about this, even if you don’t want to talk to me ever again.

I reckon that I should make it clear, although I expect that you don’t feel the same anymore, that I meant what I said last night. And I wish I hadn’t been so stupid, and told you how I felt while I still could.

His eyes ran through your words again and again, but they remained unchanged, no matter how many times he read them. He let out a long exhale, unable to believe what he was reading was true.

You couldn’t be meaning that… you couldn’t…

I’ll see you this afternoon at our cute couple’s get-together for post-wedding day, before they enjoy their well-deserved honeymoon. Don’t worry though, I won’t initiate a conversation, and will completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me ever again. Also, I’ll stay sober this time, just in case I do something stupid.

If I never hear from you again, know that I wish you the best. You deserve all the happiness in the world.

Andrew struggled to breathe for a moment. He dropped his phone on the counter next to him, buried his face in his hands.

What the fuck was going on?

Andrew hadn’t texted you back. He didn’t want to have this conversation with you over a phone. There were too many things to be told, too many things to be discussed.

He was a ball of nerves by the time three o’clock arrived and he stepped in his friends’ house. Some help was needed to make sure that the rented mansion was in good shape, to take care of the rest of the food and drinks, and obviously, to have another party to celebrate the newlyweds.

And you were there. Standing in the kitchen, making tea, your demeanour perfectly calm, as if you hadn’t dropped a bomb that had shattered his life in a million possibilities the night before…

“Andy!”

You turned to him at the sound of his name, he noticed the way your lips parted, before you looked away in a hurry…

The next second, he was engulfed in Sam’s strong embrace.

“How are you, Mr. Married-man?” Andrew joked, returning the tight hug.

“Ecstatic. Not realising what’s going on…”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“Daphne’s gone with her mother to deal with something… don’t remember what… but somebody has to go to the venue to check that everything is fine before we leave for good. Can you do that?”

“Sure, I’ll go.”

“You want some tea first?”

“No, no… I’m fine. I’ll deal with that.”

“Y/N can go with you, you might need help. The caterer left some food there apparently, even if they were supposed to deal with that and pack it up. Also, check that no one has broken anything, we were all quite drunk last night.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

Andrew looked at you, but you didn’t move towards him. You remained standing there, in the kitchen, the kettle in your hand. You looked almost afraid, definitely uncomfortable.

“You’re coming, Y/N?” he asked, making sure his voice was neutral but still soft. He didn’t want you to believe that he was angry.

You jumped, surprised that he would talk to you. Still, you nodded in a hurry, putting the kettle down.

“Yeah… yeah…”

You offered him a smile, and he reciprocated the gesture. You seemed appeased by it.

You both hurried outside, greeting some other friends who were coming and going, set on different errands. It was merry despite the grey sky and the threat of some new rain.

“I’ll drive,” Andrew said as you reached his car.

“My car is right over there, I’ll follow you.”

“No need, I’ll drop you here after we’re done. Come on.”

You remained staring at him for a moment, clearly trying to gauge his actions.

“I’m not angry,” he said, reading your mind too easily. “You can come in.”

Slowly, you nodded, and opened the car door.

It was silent as Andrew started to drive. An awkward kind of silence that Andrew tried to alleviate by turning on the radio. Van Morrison filled up the empty spaces of the car, while you tried to discreetly look at him, failing miserably. He wanted to laugh at you for being so obvious about it.

It was a short drive to the venue, but he couldn’t find anything to say to you. His throat was dry, he could feel his palms getting clammy at the mere thought of speaking to you. There was too much that needed to be said…

“Andy…” you finally broke the heavy silence, while he was waiting at a red light. “About last night…”

“Can we… can we not do that now?”

When he looked at you, you were clenching your jaw and looking away in a hurry.

“I’m not angry,” he repeated, his voice soft but neutral still.

He didn’t want to let himself get emotional now. There was too much to say and too little time before reaching the venue. Besides, he didn’t want to speak about this in his car, this wasn’t either the right place nor the right time.

“But we should talk about all this after we’re done with the venue and everything… like… when we’re alone and we have time to discuss things.”

“So… you… you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah… I reckon we should.”

“We don’t have to. I understand that you hate me, that you don’t want to have anything to do with me ever again. You don’t have to be this kind to me.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. Christ, you were so wrong… about everything…

“I could never hate you, Y/N. I don’t have that in me.”

“I hurt you. A lot.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“You should hate me.”

But he slowly shook his head, eyes still fixed on the road, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“That’s not how love works, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything, but he could feel your stare upon him. He didn’t know what he could add, so he let the rest of the drive pass in a silent haze, his mind swarming with thoughts and feelings and trying to figure out what he wanted, what he should do, what was reasonable…

More than anything else, he thought about how nice it was to smell your perfume in his car again.

Andrew had taken care of the caterer and the food while you were going around the bedrooms to make sure nothing was wrong. He was looking for you to give you a hand, the mansion was rather large, and the keys needed to be returned after everything had been cleaned and put in order, or fees might be added. Andrew had offered to pay for everything, but Sam and Daphne had refused, and seemed offended by the idea, so the best Andrew could do now was to make sure they wouldn’t pay anything extra. A few other friends and family members were also helping out, and everything was ready.

He found you in one of the bedrooms. You were checking the room quickly, but everything seemed to be in order, except for something that seemed to have been forgotten on top of an old wooden wardrobe. Andrew looked at you for a few seconds as you went on your tiptoes to try and grab whatever object was up there, but you were too small. An amused smile was drawn to his lips when you huffed in annoyance.

You turned around in a jolt when you heard the floor creaking under his weight. He said nothing, stopped only when he was close to you, so close he would only have to bend to kiss you… And then he reached up, and grabbed the forgotten object.

You both exploded with laughter as Andrew revealed a green bra.

“Somebody had fun here last night,” Andrew laughed.

“They definitely got lucky!”

He handed it to you, but you shook your head.

“I’m not taking this, I have no clue who it belongs to!”

“I can’t walk out of here holding a bra!”

“Why not? Is it better if it’s me?”

“Y/N… They’ll think I had sex with someone!”

“And if I walk out with this they’ll think I had sex with someone…”

He rolled his eyes.

“What do we do, then?”

“Can’t you hide it in your jacket?”

“Can’t you?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, grabbing the piece of garment and stuffing it in the pocket of your vest.

“Alright, crisis averted for our famous diva.”

“A diva? Me?”

You both chuckled at that.

“No, not at all… I don’t know why I joked about that.”

“Because you’re mean.”

He was joking, but your face fell, and the next second you were taking a step back and clearing your throat. And the moment had passed.

“It was the last room. Everybody behaved, apparently.”

“Good… that’s grand… let’s go, then.”

But when he turned towards the door, you held onto his hand.

He lost himself in your eyes… in their shade that he saw at night still, despite the long weeks you had spent apart, and they looked begging now, soft and vulnerable.

“Can we… can we talk before you take me back to my car?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“We can go to my place.”

“Your place?”

“Or yours.”

“You’re sure?”

“We should be alone for this. Alone, and undisturbed.”

You nodded in agreement, letting go of his hand again. He hated the cold of the air that replaced your skin.

You walked out in silence, managed to discreetly get rid of the bra in a bin, stopped to chat with a few friends, but Andrew could hardly be patient anymore. He was careful not to be rude when he pulled you away from the conversation so you could walk back to his car. Still, when you looked at him before climbing in his car, you seemed to read right through him, through the mix of emotions in his hazel eyes, from the impatience to the fear.

“Let’s go to my place,” you said softly as Andrew turned on the engines.

He nodded in silence, struggling to regulate his breathing. There was so much hope and bitterness mingling in his heart now, being injected to his veins, preventing his lungs from functioning properly.

Why had you acted like you didn’t care if you loved him? Did you even love him? Really? Would you be ready to give him a chance? Had you dated anyone since that night?

The drive to your house was made in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. There was music playing on the radio, but Andrew couldn’t notice it. It started to rain at one point, heavy and cold droplets that made it harder to see the road.

Not a word as you both climbed out of his car and hurried to your door, fleeing the rain. It was cold as it dropped on his face, the contrast stark when you let him in your house that was so much warmer.

“Tea?” you merely asked, but didn’t wait for his answer to go prepare a kettle.

He remained frozen in your hallway. All of a sudden, that evening was playing over and over in his head. He looked at the doorknob, and thought about leaving. Just… running away. Never see you again. Then what?

He would spend the next months, or most probably years, trying to forget you, trying to move on. He would bury himself in work so he could numb the pain. Eventually, he’d find someone new, build a life for himself without you in it. He’d avoid you at gatherings with your common friends. He would sing the songs he had written about you, trying to forget that you were the muse behind every note played and every rime spoken. You would find someone else too, get married, build yourself a home and a family with another person joining you in bed every night. Not him. He would never kiss you again, never hold you again, never hear your laughter, never giggle at your snarky remarks, never make love to you ever again…

“Andy?”

He spun around, facing you.

The choice was his. He could still tell you that he never wanted to see you again. That you had hurt him too much and that he didn’t want the two of you to stay in touch.

Or he could walk into your kitchen and talk with you until he was certain about the nature of your feelings for him. And then he’d decide if you were worth putting his heart on the line again or not.

He could run away, or stay.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle, head slightly tilted to the side.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and walked over to you.

“Yeah… just… lost in thought.”

You handed him a cup of tea. No sugar nor milk. Two teabags. He recognized the tag of his favourite brand.

“We should sit down,” you offered, voice hesitant, but he nodded, and you smiled as you took a seat in your living room, around your wooden table.

He sat across from you, silently measured the distance that separated you. You were resting your hands on the wooden surface, and he ached to reach out, hold your fingers tight.

You didn’t seem willing to start the conversation, and after a couple of minutes of both of you silently staring at your cups of tea, Andrew exhaled deeply through his nose, closed his eyes, and finally broke the heavy silence that had entered the room.

“So… last night… when you were drunk…”

“Hmm…”

“I reckon we should start from there.”

“Thank you again, for helping me.”

“There’s no need to thank me for that.”

“Sam said you were worried about me.”

He finally looked up at you, gaze getting caught in your stare, and he couldn’t look away after that. He struggled to swallow.

“Of course, I was worried. You were alone, no one knew where, and you didn’t have your phone with you.”

“But you hate me.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“After what happened, you should hate me.”

He heaved a sigh, shook his head, his shoulders bent under an invisible weight. The burden of loving you despite everything…

“I don’t hate you. I’m just… hurt.”

“It’s not exactly better.”

“No, I guess not… But it’s not aimed at you. It’s aimed at myself.”

You blinked a couple of times, a pained expression on your features.

“Yesterday… you said…”

You looked away, setting your gaze on your tea, on the steam that was rising from the porcelain, on the coloured liquid inside.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Because you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I know you didn’t want to hear me say that. Because you want me out of your life, and I understand why. Because I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Andrew clenched his jaw, struggled to keep his heartbeat regular.

“Did you mean it?”

You brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, still avoiding his stare.

“Y/N, look at me. Please, look at me.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, but then you complied, looked up at him.

“After everything that has happened, I just need the truth. I just need answers. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay…”

“Just answer me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to speak.

“Did you mean it?”

You blinked tears away, but slowly nodded still.

“When you said…”

His voice broke, he had to clear it to gather words on his tongue once more.

“When you said that you loved me… did you mean it?”

But you nodded again.

“I did mean it. I shouldn’t have said it, though…”

You fell silent when Andrew buried his face in his hands. He was struggling to breathe, struggling not to cry…

“I’m sorry, Andy… I’m so sorry…”

“Why the fuck did you reject me then?” he interrupted you, looking at you once more, his hands falling loudly on the table. “Why did you keep on pushing me away? On making me feel fucking miserable? If you loved me, why would you hurt me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to… I just….”

Your lips trembled, but you went on anyway, voice calm and a little cold.

“My life was a mess… still kind of is, to be fair. I had a new job, and then… then you kissed me that night at the bar and… old feelings came back. Feelings I had been very good at burying and forgetting. And I just… I didn’t want us to remain just friends, but… I was fucking terrified, Andy. I still am, to be honest. And so, I convinced myself that I could… have you while protecting my heart, which was the worst idea ever thought since the beginning of mankind, clearly…”

You heaved a tired sigh, rubbed your forehead as you tightly closed your eyes.

Andrew was remaining perfectly still, utterly quiet. Waiting for you to continue.

“I just thought… I thought that if we didn’t act like a couple, if we didn’t date, I would be able to control how I feel for you. I thought that it could be casual. And you accepted, and I thought… I thought that it meant that you were just attracted to me, and it helped me ignore my own feelings to believe that you just wanted sex.”

“I didn’t want you just for sex. I never did,” he interrupted you, and you stared at him with pain twisting your features.

“I’m sorry, Andy…”

“You said that it didn’t mean anything to you. You said that you didn’t have feelings for me, that… that you felt nothing when we were intimate. You said it was just about fucking…”

“I didn’t say any of that...”

“That’s how you behaved, though.”

“I didn’t say it was just about fucking…”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“It wasn’t about fucking. I always had feelings for you.”

He clenched his jaw, heaved a sigh.

“Why did you pretend it didn’t mean a thing then?”

“Because I was scared. And I didn’t feel ready to have a relationship with you.”

“Because I have to go on tours?”

“Yeah… not just that but… mostly, yes. Because you won’t be here. Dating you means signing up for a long-distance relationship, and I don’t know how to deal with that kind of situation.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I understand that,” he mumbled.

“You’ll never be around… you’re always off to somewhere else. Our lives are so different…”

“But this is my home. It’s always gonna be my home. I’ll always come back.”

“How do you handle not seeing your partner for months?”

He let out a bitter chuckle.

“Badly,” he truthfully answered, and the two of you shared a sad smile.

“I was afraid to open up to you, to be vulnerable, to let myself feel this way… for you to disappear and break up with me because you’d have found someone better on the other side of the globe…”

“Y/N… I understand why my career can seem like a giant obstacle, because it is one. It’s… so fucking hard to not be with the person you love for months, and I’m so goddamn busy when touring that I can’t promise you that I’ll be able to give you the quality time that you deserve. It’s a nightmare to get our schedules to match, to plan everything out, and that’s without counting all the things that are added along the way that weren’t planned at the beginning of touring… And then there’s the press, and the writing, and the recording, and… and I understand, okay? I understand that you would reject me because of that. But Y/N… if you’re just afraid that I might fall for someone else because we’re apart for a few weeks… that is literally the least probable scenario that could ever happen.”

“Why would it be?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” he answered simply, earnestly, like it was the most obvious truth on earth. “Because I’ve been in love with you for years. And no one has ever replaced you, even when I thought you felt nothing for me, even when we both were dating other people. Trust me, you’re the only woman I want on this planet. The only one I really want.”

He watched as you took his words in, your lower lip trembling, blinking tears away.

“You should have told me,” he went on. “Instead of inventing this fucking arrangement, you should have just told me.”

“I know. But I wasn’t ready to try and be with you…”

“I would have waited. I would have waited for you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It was fucked up, Y/N… you… it just… it was so painful to me,” Andrew admitted, trying not to let his voice shake too much. “I felt… I felt like you were just using me. I’ve never felt so terrible about myself… cause I… I was just enough for you to fuck me, and nothing more…”

“No, that wasn’t that at all...”

“That’s how it made me feel. Not all the time, of course. There were so many times when I felt… loved. When I felt like you felt more for me than simple physical attraction; most of the time it was the case. And that… it kind of messed with my brain, made me feel like you wanted more; but every time we were getting closer to an actual relationship, you rejected me. And you kept on doing it, over and over, and sometimes it was so fucking painful. Almost mean. And more than unloved, it made me feel… unlovable. Undesirable. And I know that you deserve better than what I can give you with my career, but…”

“Don’t say that. God, Andy don’t say that…”

You heaved a sigh, and Andrew was taken aback when you suddenly stood up, walked around the table and held him close. He didn’t think as he wrapped his arms around you too, though.

“I love you,” you whispered as you held him close, and felt his entire body relax at your words, tears rising back to his eyes. “God, Andrew… I love you so much. I was just scared. It was just bad timing. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I acted like the worst piece of shit, but you are everything but unlovable, okay? How could you think that?”

“Say it again,” he whispered into your neck, noticing the way goosebumps erupted across your skin under his breath. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you, Andy…”

Before you could say anything else, he was standing up as well, catching your lips with his in the process.

He heard the shock in your breath, but then your hands were in his hair, and you were pulling him closer, until you were leaning back against the table. His hands on your face to make sure you would stay close. And Christ… the relief of kissing you again, of feeling your lips move perfectly against his at long last, of tasting you once more…

You held him so tightly when you pulled away, arms wrapping around his neck while you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asked, voice hoarser than usual.

“No…”

“Have you? Since we’ve stopped seeing each other?”

But you shook your head.

“No, nothing. You?”

“No one.”

“Really?”

“You broke my heart… it does take more than a few weeks to get over that,” he chuckled, but you didn’t laugh, merely holding him closer, so close he could barely breathe.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was so scared. I tried fooling myself into thinking I didn’t love you, but I do. I love you…”

“I’ll wait for you,” Andrew whispered into your hair. “If you’re not ready but you’d be willing to give me a chance, I would still wait for you…”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t know about that. But I know that I love you, despite everything that happened. And besides… it wasn’t all bad. Most of it was good.”

“When I didn’t act like an arse, you mean?”

“Exactly.”

“I loved it so much, you know? Whenever I let myself get closer to you… whenever I let myself love you… Christ, I was so happy then…”

“I was too. Whenever you let me in, I was happy with you. We could still be happy together, if you give us a chance.”

“I was breaking my own heart every time, you know? Every time, Andy… It was so fucking hard… but I was so scared…”

He pulled away, took your hands in his. He stared at you with begging eyes.

“If you want to try this, long-distance is going to be hard. It’ll be rough. Real rough.”

“I know.”

“I can’t… I can’t go through this again, Y/N.”

“Me neither. It was awful for me too.”

“So… if we try this… we give it a real try: I take you on a proper date, and we don’t hold back.”

“Are you sure you still want me?”

“Yeah… yeah, I still want you. Do you want me?”

You answered by kissing him, slow and passionate, making him melt against you, wrap his arms around your frame.

“I’m all in for the date,” you whispered against his lips. “But… can we still go to my bedroom now?”

“Before the first date? What about giving me a proper wine-and-dine treatment before taking me to bed, huh?” he playfully answered, grinning into your lips, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

“I’ll give you wining and dining and everything in between for our first date, but I really want you, right now…”

You fell silent when he let his lips fall to your neck and his hands rise to your breasts.

Little words were exchanged while you left a trail of clothes on the path to your bedroom, staggering now and then as your lips remained sealed to his most of the way.

Except when you were lying on your bed, head against your pillows, looking up at Andrew with adoring eyes as he hovered over you, staring at you like you had hung up the stars and moon in the sky. While he was trembling at the feeling of your naked skin against his, you raised your hands to hold his face, your thumbs gently brushing his cheeks, and his heart stumbled against his ribcage under your tender touch.

“I love you,” you whispered in the softest voice he had ever heard, adoration oozing from your sweet tone. “I love you, Andy.”

He rested his forehead against yours, lowering his body onto yours to feel as much of your skin against his as he could.

“I love you, Y/N,” he murmured with the same devotion and worship in his deep voice. “I love you so fucking much…”

And when he kissed you again, there was no doubt in either of your minds that this was what love was supposed to feel like.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier imagine #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #series

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gaybananabread · 7 months ago

Note

tadc headcanons perhaps? Any character, lee or ler

☆—TADC Main Cast Tkl Headcanons—⁠☆

~How about all of them? This took forever; I live in shame. But hey, they're done now, so…yay! LONG so prepare to read for a sec. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you Enjoy!~

💙Pomni🃏

General:

This wet dog of a clown definitely loves tickles.

She just thinks it’s nice that there’s a way to just laugh without needing to think about anything else: a way to just disconnect and enjoy oneself.

A lee-leaning switch. Loves being tickled, but occasionally wants to make someone else giggle and squirm.

Lee:

She gets lee moods pretty frequently, though she rarely tries to fix them. Girl is way too anxious to actually ask for what she wants

Sometimes, one of her fellow players will notice and step in and help, usually Kinger or Ragatha.

She’s a squirmer for sure. Make sure you’ve got a good grip, or she’ll wriggle away (not for long, but still)

If you get her really good, she’ll squeak like a stress toy. It flusters the hell out of her if you tease about it.

Worst spots are her sides, which get loud squeaks if you squeeze them. Navel is sorta bad as well, but she can handle it a lot longer.

Melt spot is her neck, specifically under her chin. She can and will fall asleep if you stay there too long.

Ler:

She’s a softer ler to everyone but Jax. He deserves it honesty-

Gentle tickles, small teases, compliments. Her goal is to make you happy.

“Wow, you’ve got a really pitchy laugh. No, don’t stop, it’s nice.”

“Thanks for not squirming away. Oh, c’mon, I can tell.”

“You’re so soft… I’ve gotta do this more often.”

Really easy to fluster if you can think through the giggles; a quick compliment or praise has her burning.

Her ler moods are usually spurred by something else, like walking in on a tickle fight or hearing the t-word a certain way.

To fix a mood, she’ll usually just go up to Ragatha or Kinger and wiggle her fingers. They usually get the message pretty quickly.

Pretty decent with aftercare. She’s a cuddle bug, but if you’re not big on touch, she’ll find a blanket for you. Other than that, you’ll have to ask.

🦷Caine🎪

General:

The chaos man is a pure switch.

Once he finds out that tickling can affect him and works oh-so-well on his friends, he makes sure to abuse that knowledge whenever possible.

I mean, laughter is better than abstraction, right?

Lee:

The first time he’s tickled is the most confusing moment of his existence.

Like, what? Someone wiggles their fingers somewhere, and it feels like little fuzzy zaps under his digital skin? Crazy.

Once he gets past that, though, the toothy man loves every bit of the odd sensation he can get.

He’ll provoke the players, casually throw the t-word into speeches, or make NPCs to do the job for him (nobody knows about these guys though)

He tries to hold still, but don’t be surprised if he randomly teleports mid-tickle. It always flusters him when he has to go back and ask for it to continue.

Worst spots are his sides and underarms. He’ll screech.

He’s not really all that ticklish anywhere else though, each spot only getting little giggles and titters.

Doesn’t really have a melt spot, though he loves belly tickles. It’s not a bad spot at all for him, but he likes feeling “normal” and connected to the players in that sense.

Sometimes, if you really get him laughing, the sound will glitch. It’s utterly adorable to hear.

Ler:

Run as fast as you can, my friends.

Ler moods come to him for completely random reasons. If he sees someone sad or stressed, if they laugh just a bit too sweetly, if they’re being too sassy: they’re done for.

He uses his digital powers to subdue lees. If you’re hiding? He’ll teleport to you. Fighting him off? Bubbles come and snag your wrists. If you genuinely don’t want him to, he’ll let you go. Other than that, good luck.

“Oh my! You’re quite ticklish, aren’t you?”

“You can’t, hmm? Can’t what? Can’t handle it? Can’t tell me to stop? I’d love to know what’s going through your mind, dear!”

“It tickles, does it? How about I add a few feathers; I hear they’re all the rage among humans!”

He’s really hard to fluster when he’s tickling. Teasy lees, you might have met your match.

Sort of okay with aftercare? He doesn’t understand it at first, but he tries. Head pats and water are his go-to, but he’ll do more if you ask.

💜Jax🐇

General:

Sassy rabbit feels like a ler-leaning switch.

He’s always willing to wreck a bitch, but doesn’t mind the occasional laugh or two for himself.

When he’s feeling lonely or touch starved, tickles are his go-to in either direction.

Lee:

While on the rare side, his lee moods are intense.

Blushes, small giggles, antsy demeanor, flinching from small touches: not exactly discreet.

If another player notices (which almost always happens), he’ll deny and fight it ‘til the cows come home. You’ve gotta fight to give him what he wants.

He’s a flailer for sure. Donkey kicks and stray elbows are his specialty.

Worst spots are his ears, specifically the bases. They get him cackling almost instantly.

Melt spots are the tops of his knees. Nobody really ever targets them, but he goes nearly limp if a few spidering fingers land there.

If you get him just right, he’ll thump his feet against the floor. He dies if you tease him about it.

Ler:

Evil son of a gun, so watch your back.

He lives for a good chase. Will probably try and tease you into running, just so he can trap and catch you.

Very verbal and teasing. He has zero shame in turning you red as a rose.

“You got ten seconds to run, doll. Better make ‘em count~”

“Aww, what’s the matter? Can’t bring your arms down? That’s alright; I’ll make sure you have some fun~”

“You sure do scream a lot, sweet cheeks. I’d cover my ears if they didn’t sound so cute.”

Very smug man, not an easily flustered ler. It really takes some confident prodding or skill to get him.

He uses his tall man advantage every time. Holding a lee up by their arms, using his legs to keep them sitting, putting something on a tall shelf and attacking whenever they try to get it: the list goes on.

He’s actually pretty good with aftercare, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.

He’ll make sure you’re okay and get you water, though he’ll act like it’s such a chore. After that, it’s either cuddles because you “look like death warmed over,” or a special snack to “keep you from annoying him.”

❤️Ragatha🪡

General:

She’s a switch, not really leaning in one direction or the other.

Loves tickling because it can make the other players laugh, which they all desperately need. She knows she does.

Lee:

She’s incredibly shy when she gets in a lee mood. Good luck getting her to do anything productive or coherent until she’s helped.

While she tries holding still, she can’t help but curl up. You’ll need to hold her arms above her head or get used to moving with her.

I like to think she’s got a louder, more obnoxious-sounding laugh (no projection, you have 0 proof-)

Lots of snorts, cackles, and little hiccup-squeaks.

Speaking of which, the easiest way to fluster her is to compliment her laugh. She’s self-conscious about it, so literally any praise will have her coming apart at the seams (hehehe pun)

Worst spots are her neck and back, specifically her shoulder blades. She cannot handle massages around there.

Melt spots are her belly and thighs. Some gentle traces or pokes in either of those areas has her in giggle heaven.

Ler:

She's incredibly sweet, though she's got a different way of doing things for certain people.

With most of the circus members, she's soft and playful. Light touches, quick scribbles and small teases.

“You're such a wiggle worm, giggles. Try to hold still for me, will you?”

“Aww, look at that adorable blush. I'm glad to know you're having fun!”

For select individuals (Jax and anyone misbehaving), she's playfully mean and a touch ruthless. Fast squeezes and very teasy attacks.

“Aww, that spot’s pretty sensitive, huh? I should tell the others; I'm sure they'd love a chance to see you like this!”

She's surprisingly strong, able to pin pretty much all of the players. If you wanna try escaping, get ready for a good fight.

She's amazing with aftercare. She'll make sure you're alright, get you a drink, and swaddle you in a soft blanket for cuddles.

If you aren't big on touch, she'll get you the finest digital cuisine (basically asking Caine for your favorite food) and whatever else you can think of.

🎭Gangle🎀

General:

This ribbon girl is very much a lee.

If she does tickle anyone, it’s an extremely rare one-off occasion.

She’s just more comfortable with being tickled, for a number of reasons.

Doesn’t want to risk pushing someone’s boundaries, uncomfortable touching them, or just a general not-wanting-too feeling.

Lee:

Lee moods are about as rare as pebbles for her. They’re pretty obvious, too.

Tightly coiled posture, a giddy look on her face (biggest giveaway), and very nonchalant staring at people’s hands.

Needless to say, everyone is clued in almost immediately.

She has no shame in wiggling around and unraveling, though she does actually want to get away. It’s fun, and it usually gets her ler to tease her.

Worst spots are the inner parts of her midsection ribbons. She will absolutely try to unravel and slip out of your arms if you try it.

Melt spot is her mask, specifically the back of it. As long as she’s wearing it, she’ll feel the tickles. Girly melts into a giddy puddle in your arms.

Her laughter is really pitchy, with plenty of squeaks and squeals to go around. Kind of like a mouse on helium (great way to tease her, as long as it’s done kindly)

Gets flustered VERY easily. You won’t have to try hard unless you really want to.

♚Kinger🪲

General:

The softest lee-leaning switch you'll ever meet.

He loves tickles, though you won't catch him openly admitting it. It's too embarrassing for him

He gets lee moods frequently, though he's willing to help a friend with theirs if they need it.

Lee:

He's decently shy, never coming out and asking for tickles. He usually just suffers in silence until Ragatha notices.

On a rare day where he's stable and confident, he'll tease Pomni or the ragdoll to try and provoke it.

It rarely works how he'd like, but they almost always realize that he's in a lee mood. Failed successfully.

He'll squirm around like a literal worm, though he can't help it. Lucky for his ler, he's pretty much a walking tickle spot.

If one spot is blocked, another opens up.

His worst spot is his stomach. He goes silent when anyone gets him there, save for the occasional squeak or gasp.

Melt spot is the top of his head on the little cross thing. He'll lean right into it, maybe even fall asleep.

He's got a really squeaky, pitchy laugh. If you get him really laughing, he'll start to snort and flap his hands.

Ler:

If one of his fellow players is close to abstraction or just needs some cheering up, he'll be there.

He's got a very soft, lightly teasing style. Doesn't really push anyone to their limits unless they really want him to.

“Of all the bugs in my collection, I must say I have a favorite…the Tickle Bug!”

“Those are some cute giggles, friend. So glad you could share them with me!”

“Of course I can help with your…predicament. Now, arms up for me, dear.”

Kind of the dad of the circus. He's always there to help if need be.

Super great with aftercare. 80% of the time, he'll tickle you in his fort. That means pillowy cuddles afterwards and a nice nap.

If that's not your thing, he's more than willing to accommodate. As long as you're happy, he's happy.

🎡Zooble🪀

General:

This preschool toy mashup gives me strong ler vibes.

They don’t seem like someone who’d like to be tickled unless the ler was EXTREMELY close to them and knew their boundaries by heart.

Ler:

They’re an absolutely despicable little shit.

Worst spot targeting, slightly mean teases, and the CHASES!

They could throw their arm at the fleeing lee, and it’d all be over. The thing could latch onto their worst spot and wiggle away, leaving the lee unable to do anything but wait for Zooble to catch up.

It doesn’t take a lot to provoke them, but if you want a proper wrecking, you’ll have to work for it. They don’t get annoyed enough to destroy someone easily.

VERY teasy, almost unfairly so.

“Tickles, does it? Maybe if you hadn’t been such a pain in the *boink*, this wouldn't be happening.”

“You brought this on yourself, ya know. Every unbearably ticklish second of it.”

“What? Not my fault this is your worst spot. Get less ticklish.”

Have you seen that lobster claw thing? You can’t tell me that thing wouldn’t tickle like crazy.

For aftercare, they try their respective best. They’ll pat your back, maybe give you a head rub.

After that, they’ll typically bring their undoubtably exhausted lee to Kinger’s pillow fort for a much-needed nap.

157 notes · View notes

baaby-honeyy · 4 months ago

Note

YES RELEASE PT 2! and tag me pls 🙏🙏🫣🫣

Run (Ruin, pt 2)

A/N: hey… it’s genuinely been like a whole year. i know how much of you wanted Ruin part 2, but it’s better late than never!! i feel horrible, but i really did need the break. now that it’s summer, i should have a lot more free time on my hands. please enjoy, and beware of the dark themes. if you don’t like it, please click away, don’t report. thank you<3

TW: VERYdark/dom/POSSESSIVE/toxic!harry x sub/crybaby/innocent reader, dacryphilia, daddy kink, primal kink, SMUT WITH PLOT!, unprotected sex, spanking, forced orgasms, cunnilingis, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, breeding kink, spit kink, gaslighting. please let me know if there’s something missing.

SUMMARY: When a predator hunts its prey, they search, pursue, attack and consume. Even going so far as to mock, play, and taunt their prey before utterly destroying it. While the predator enjoys the delicious reward after the exhilarating chase, the hunt is what they live for.

Ruin, Pt 1

<><><><><><><>

It started out as a normal car ride. Harry was driving you back home from the park, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. He can’t help his anger, and he refuses to feel like this is his fault. It’s his mess, but he’s not the one who made it go this far. You were the one who disobeyed his every rule, to the point where his two friends thought they could take his place.

It started out as a normal car ride. Until one missed exit because two, and two became three. Harry doesn’t even know where he’s going, or what he’s thinking. He only knows that you’re sitting next to him, your favorite stuffed animal in hand, and smile on your face like you’re excited to go back to your life at home. Only, you don’t deserve it. Not after you forced him to punish you for being so terrible. Harry’s jaw clenches just at the thought of you sitting next to Drue or Jack. Before he misses the fourth exit, he quickly turns and exits the freeway.

He was hoping you would stay quiet. But, of course, there you go with your dense questions.

“Where we goin, Harry?” You peep, with that squeaky curious voice of yours. Harry nearly rolled his eyes.

“Be silent unless I call for you.” He responds, dull and quick, making a left turn. It obviously flew past your head— because your eyes grow big as you stare out the window, palms pressed against the cool glass. You watch as you seem to get farther and farther from the city, and into an endless roadway of tall trees. You're in a trance for a while, your fuzzy little brain- too focused on how tall the trees are- doesn't even realize how every car that passes becomes less and less as you drive. Until there were none left. No cars, no buildings, and barely any houses.

Staring mindlessly into oblivion, you wiggle your feet in boredom to pass time. Your favorite pair of shoes ever, your pink and white Mary Janes, have been exchanged for your earlier pink shoes. They were truly the cutest shoes you’ve ever seen, your favorite part being the little hearts scattered all over them. They just screamed you, and Harry thought the same. For this reason, you always carry them with you in case you decide to switch.

Turning around to look at Harry, whose eyes are squinted as he focuses on the road, you try to figure out for yourself where you're going. Harry has barely spoken to you the entire ride, despite all the curious questions you've asked throughout the trip. The only thing close to a response you've gotten out of him so far was a plain "Mhm," which made you wonder.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond perkily, excited to hear Harry calling your name. His eyes have a glimmer of despair and disappointment, rather than their typical blank appearance. You patiently wait for Harry to speak again.

“What were you thinking? That I was gone and they could take my place? That I wouldn’t come back for you? Tell me exactly what you thought.”Harry speaks, taking care to keep his tone steady and low so you can hear how serious he is.

But you can’t, and your little brain can’t understand what you’ve done wrong, no matter how hard you try. You’ve replayed the moments over and over in your head, and still, you can’t see what’s made Harry so upset with you. From the minute you woke up, to the new park Harry took you to, to your favorite park, the ice cream shop and the park again, you thought you’ve done everything right.

“I- I don’t understand, Harry. I did what you told me to, like a good girl..” You trail off. Only shaking his head, Harry reacts to your pitiful excuse for an explanation. He grips the steering wheel harder, making a few more turns.

You have no idea what Harry’s been through to keep you. The countless amount of times where you interrupt his meetings because you’re needy and want to held, the countless amount of times where you’d starve yourself because Harry wasn’t there to eat with you. The countless amount of times where people wonder. They wonder why you act the way you do, why you need Harry so much, just to breathe it seems like. They wonder where he found you and why you’ve remained attached to him ever since.

Harry’s answer is always the same.

“She’s my angel. What matters is that I found her, not how.” And it’s true. It seemed when you two first met, you needed each other to live and function. When Harry considers where it's all gone wrong, his heart can't help but ache.

Something has to happen with you. Something has to make you listen. Harry’s convinced that the guilt he’s feeling is his mind playing tricks on him, trying to let you get away with what you’ve done. So he pushes the thoughts away, and keeps on driving, and driving, and driving.

After a few more minutes of what felt like an endless road of trees, you feel the car come to a stop.

“Where are-”

“Get out.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt, going as fast as you can. Harry’s already out the car, and sees you struggling to move as quick as he’d like. He walks to your side and unbuckles the seatbelt quickly, yanking you out of the car and slamming the door behind you.

“Wha-“

“Don’t speak unless I call for you.”

Harry telling you to be silent- it wasn’t for his own benefit, it was for yours.

He guides you to a forest entrance, and before you know it, the enormous trees are swallowing you. You can only make out the grass and trees.

You’re lost in wonder when Harry suddenly stops, making you jerk to a stop as well. He gives you a long, hard look before removing his jacket and checking his pockets. He pulls out his wallet, sunglasses, and keys before setting them all on the floor. His attention shifts back to you once he covers everything with his jacket.

With a confused look in your eye, you look at Harry, who’s looking at you expectantly. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly changed his mind and rushes to you. He takes off your sweater, and pauses. You squeak when he begins touching over you, feeling every inch of your body for anything you may be carrying. He removes your phone, and your bag, and throws it next to his things. He took everything he could off your body, skipping your bracelet.

“Harry, what are yo-“

“Are you holding anything? Give it to me.” Harry interrupts, holding out his palm. He impatiently eyes your teddy bear that’s hanging from your clenched hands, and brings his gaze back to you.

“Right now.”

You reluctantly give him your bear, and as soon as you watch Harry cruelly toss him on the forest floor, regret fills inside of you. He didn't even look at where he was being thrown; instead, he was fixated on you the entire time. Your poor bear lays on the ground face down into a dense, dirty pile of leaves. The sight makes you cringe horribly, because you love that bear, and you’ve taken such great care of him like you were told to, when Harry first gave him to you.

You stare in disbelief, and open your mouth to speak, but Harry cuts you off before you can start. He stalks toward you- and you unknowingly step back, his eyes narrowed, and his gaze piercing into your startled one. The crunch sound beneath his feet echo as he steps. He gets closer, having to lean down to get to you.

“Run.”

There’s a lengthy silence before you break it. You can’t stop the smile from spreading across you face, and the giggle from escaping your mouth. Harry looks dead serious, keeping silent with his eyes narrowed down at you. He has no amuse from watching you giggle.

“Harry, we can’t run in the woods! You’re so funny! We can get lo-”

“My God- Y/n, shut the fuck up! I swear to God if I hear even a little squeak come from your mouth..”Harry interrupts you, pinching his nose bridge as he always does when he’s frustrated.

“Don’t make a sound unless I call for you. Unless I call for you. Do you fucking hear me!?” He shouts, his voice strained and his veins popping out of his neck as he speaks.

Still, you can’t help the giggles coming from you. You didn’t even bring your running shoes. There’s no way you’d run in your MaryJanes and risk ruining your most favorite shoes! Harry’s jokes have gotten funnier than ever!

But he doesn’t laugh with you. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t even blink. You become more and more aware of how drastically the atmosphere has changed with each passing second. Harry’s joke became less and less funny, and more dire.

“I said,” Harry starts, grabbing a fistful of your hair harshly and yanking your head back. You almost yelp at the feeling of your scalped being so harshly pulled. His eyes are full of a darkness you’ve never seen before, and his mouth formed into a snarl. It was enough to make you cry.

“Run.”

You waste no time, only looking back once to see Harry before sprinting down the forest path. You let out helpless, frightened whimpers out of fear that Harry’s right behind you. But he stays back, still in his place as he watches you scramble away like a helpless little mouse. Poor baby, so scared at the much bigger, scary man that was just your loving, protective partner. How quickly things can things can change.

Harry counted to 120. He waited until he couldn’t hear your rushed footsteps against the crunchy leaves of the forest floor. He waited until the sound of your frantic whimpers and pants faded away as you ran. He waited until there was silence. Nothing but him and the towering trees. For a moment, he ponders on why he’s even here- telling his girlfriend to run away from him, in the middle of the forest, like he’s a wild wolf. Then he remembers how horrible he felt when he saw you with Drue and Jack. How he wanted to take you right then and there, not caring about who he’d piss off.

That’s when he starts to run. Green Adidas leave tracks in the mud as he darts through the damp forest. He runs, and he runs, the daunting thought of you cuddled up with his friends in the back of his mind. He’s set on catching you- letting out a growl of determination as he goes. The image of you cowering away- hiding from him in a bush sends blood rushing to his cock, and he picks up his speed.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

It feels like it’s been hours that you’ve been hiding from Harry.

Your hands rush to your mouth, concealing a startled squeal. If you heard correctly, a twig snapped not that far from you. You cower deeper in your bush and grab the massive leafy branch you laid in front of you. You position it to where you’re concealed completely, and once everything goes quiet, that’s when the realization sets in. You don’t even know why you’re running from your kind, loving Harry.

But the way he threw your bear makes you feel like you don’t want to find out. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline as you suddenly become very, very, homesick. You miss the rest of your stuffies at home. You long to be on the luxurious, soft mattress right now, holding your bear close to your chest. You miss Harry’s scent, and the cuddles he’s give you every single night before sleep time. How long are you going to be here? Harry made you leave your phone, your purse, everything.

Snap..

You make an effort to keep your composure as you consider all the potential causes of that sound. Any wild animal could be passing by. A common squirrel can be searching for acorns to bring home to its family. In the midst of all this terror, you smile at the idea of a squirrel packing its face with acorns. The thought of it just takes your mind, until you giggle unconsciously to yourself. Once more covering your lips with your palm, you briefly hold your breath.

Like the last few times, it seems like there is nothing there. But you suddenly hear whistling, followed by Harry's loud yet unsettlingly deep voice.

“Come out.. I know you’re there.. somewhere..” He wanders while cooing in a taunting manner.

“C’mon.. Won’t be mad at you, Baby. I’m the one who told you to run, aren’t I? Are you.. here?” Harry looks in a bush, nearing closer to yours. You watch him closely through the spaces in the bush.

Knowing that Harry won't be angry with you for running away makes you feel relieved. You want nothing more than to be in his arms again, in your warm bed under the covers. Your chest starts to ache at how badly you want it. Mindlessly, and completely lost in thought, you crawl from the bush— but stop and think about what Harry said.

“Don’t speak unless I call for you.” Your mind hears Harry's voice so clearly that you stop. He’s been shouting out things to ease you into thinking it’s okay to come out, but he never once called for you. You praise yourself silently for remembering before you could make a huge mistake.

“How long do you think you can hide before I find you? And trust me, when I do, M’ gonna fuck you dumb. Like the dumb little kitten you are..” Harry’s voice booms across the forest because of the silence.

“You’d like that though.. huh? You’d like me fucking you over, and over, and over… till you’re screaming, begging me to stop. Remember last week on the couch? ‘Oh, Daddy! Daddy! Stop it! T-too much, oh, Daddy! M’ gonna cum!’ “You couldn’t get away from me if you tried your hardest, baby.” He makes fun of you, jogging vivid memories of that day. You make an effort not to dwell on it too much, but you can already feel wetness in your panties, and you start to ache for Harry. How can you be so scared yet so turned on at the same time?

He continues with his little taunts, and searches for any sign of you. A tiny groan escapes him as a reflection of light strikes his eye. Following the reflection, he sees it bouncing off a nearby tree. As he searches for the source of the light, he follows it and fixes his gaze on a another bush. Your bush.

Your eyes fix on Harry's as you continue to observe through the bushes. He doesn’t notice you yet, and you try to see what exactly he noticed. The sun was just starting to set, and the bright sun made it hard for you to see. You shift carefully, and then realize just what he’s looking at— your bracelet. The one you swore to never take off when Harry gave it to you. Why didn’t that come across your mind? The sun was reflecting right on your arm, and when you try to take it off, you only made things worse. He continues searching for you, getting closer, and closer. You don’t make a sound, you don’t even breath.

“Do you think you can hide forever? Huh? Think you can run and escape from me? Well, there’s one thing you’re forgetting.” Harry taunts and teases, sounding more frustrated and desperate. A sudden silent falls upon you, and you wonder if he left another direction to search for you. When it’s clear he’s gone, you let go of your breath.

“I’ll always find you.”

Screaming at Harry’s voice in your ear, you try to escape, but his massive, strong hands grab you by your ankles and yank you back.

“N-no!” You screech. You kick your foot back at Harry, it was surprisingly easy, as if Harry let you go himself. You rose to your feet as quickly as you could and broke into a sprint; you knew that he was holding off on going after you on purpose because if he had wanted to, Harry could have immediately captured you in his arms and destroyed you.

The worst part of it was that, although knowing he'll catch you eventually, he still allowed you to exhaust yourself out of amusement. Instead of being grateful for the opportunity to escape, you were afraid of how much worse he would make things for you as punishment for not just giving up at the very start.

Dodging all the twigs and tree branches that have fallen off, you sprint faster than you ever have before. Although the mud was damp and heavy, you kept your pace. You run and run, and soon think you’ve lost him and you can stop. Before you can even slow down, though, you hear heavy, fast footsteps behind you. Turning around as you run, you see Harry gaining on you, an unnerving, malicious smile wide across his face. You give it all you’ve got, and pick up your speed.

“That’s right, Y/n.. Run, run!” Harry shouts behind you, an exasperated rasp in his voice. A helpless, scared whimper comes out of you as you try, you try so hard to run faster and faster. You can't help but bump into a few low-hanging branches, leaving small scrapes on your arms and a terrible tear in your pink sundress, which is now filthy. Your MaryJanes have unbuckled because of fast you’ve been going, and your feet start to slip. Your body aches so much. You want to stop and ask Harry why he’s doing this to you, but that eerie smile you saw just a few minutes ago keeps you moving.

Your eyes well up with tears. You can’t even see where you’re going, it seems almost pointless to run now. You almost stop. Your ears start to fill with the obnoxious noise of passing cars, and you cringe at the sensation. The last thing your little head needed was a headache, and you’re already prone to one from all of this exertion. But when you realize that is your ticket out of here, your eyes widen from adrenaline. Moving your legs faster, you head for the sound of the cars, which was luckily straight ahead. Harry notices where you’re headed, and attempts to catch you before you get there. He’s right on you. You know he is - because you can hear his condescending laughter coming closer and closer.

Another reminder that while for him it was fun game, for you it was almost life or death.

The more you run the more you can see your exit. It’s so, so perfect. You’d run out towards the street, towards civilization where people can see you in broad daylight. You take a look behind you, and notice Harry isn’t behind you anymore. It doesn’t bother you too much, the thought of being out of the forest takes all of your concentration.

You’re getting closer.. and closer.. you can almost feel the sunlight hit your face. Almost reaching the concrete, a smile of victory appears on your face, before completely disappearing. You rush into Harry's chest head-on, your eyes widening so much that you lose your balance and land on your ass. Before you can flee, he kneels down at your shaking body and grabs you by the hair.

“Gotcha.”

You gasp in terror as you stare up at him towering over you and it makes you realize just how manic Harry looks. His clothes are surprisingly in one piece, and as clean as they were before. His shaggy brown hair is all over the place, some clinging to his forehead from sweat. His eyes, beady and wide as they maliciously stare down into yours.

Although you're certain that you both appear the same, Harry has an unsettling stature about him that you’ve never seen so close before. He chuckles darkly, enjoying every second you have that horrified look on your face.

“You stupid, stupid baby. Stand up and take that pretty lil dress off— Daddy wants to see all of you.”

You cry. You can’t imagine how uncomfortable you’ll be once you take off your dress. The forest air was so humid, and you knew it wouldn’t be kind to your skin- especially your princess parts. Harry frowns at watching you hesitate at his orders, and smacks you lightly across the face. You let out a piercing yelp, and Harry only rolls his eyes in pity of you.

“Go on, then. I want the dress off. Shoes too.”

Completely sobbing again, you stand yourself up, and slowly pull your dress over your head. You cringe at the harsh humid air attacking your skin, making your nipples immediately harden. Harry remains looking down at you with a slight smirk. His eyes wander on every part of your body.

“What should I use first, hm?” Harry brings his hand to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your chapped lips.

“Your pretty mouth? Or..” His eyes travel downwards, and you can feel his sharp gaze pierce through the skin of your thighs.

“That tight lil pussy of yours.. or..” He continues, making you cringe at what else he could possibly want from you. His hands trail downwards, down your chest and in between your thighs, stopping at the center of your panties. Using his index finger, he toys with you a little bit— sliding his finger over your clit and in your folds as best he could through the cloth. You can’t help your whimpering as you feel the moisture in between your legs worsen. When you feel Harry’s hands go downwards past your panties, you start to squirm away again. You and Harry have done it almost every way possible, but never down there; it has always been far too difficult for you, and the concept of it has terrified you to your core.

“No! Harry, stop!” The words come out in a jumble as you struggle to run around his tall, towering body. You manage to escape from his grasp, but of course Harry’s insanely strong arms keep you back. Instead of grabbing you this time, he throws you to the ground, where you helplessly crawled until he caught you by the ankles. He revels in the way you think you could ever escape him. He keeps you in that position for a bit- you being face flat on the ground, back already arched for him.

“Why’re you trying to hide from me so much, hm? Daddy’s not that scary, is he? Bet you loved it.. and your pussy—” Harry yanks your panties to the side in a split second, giving you no time to prepare for the forest humidity on the most sensitive part of you. A wide, cheshire like smile spreads across his face once he sees your soaked pussy, and whether you like it or not— it was begging to be touched.

“S’wet, isn’t it? Yeah, just like I knew you’d be. You’re crazy, just like Daddy.”

He flips you back over, taking you by the hair once again to make sure he has enough to be able to yank you if he wanted. You whine in protest. The harsh forest ground was already hurting your fraile little body.

“God, Y/n- you squeal so fuckin’ much.. Think I’ve decided, baby. M’ gonna use that lil mouth of yours.. shut you up for a bit.” Harry almost whines in annoyance, getting to his feet and unbuckling his belt. He does it in a rush, like he’s growing impatient of watching you beg, and lets his pants sag to his mid-thigh.

“On your knees, c’mon.” Sternly, Harry commands you, only giving you a split second to do it yourself before he does it for you.

“N-no.. Harry! Harry, no! Stop.. Daddy, Daddy, please!” You screech, using his name, his proper name— to get him to see how desperate you are.

Harry took his erection out of his boxers as you winced and tried to turn away, but he put a palm on your head to show you. Choking on your sobs, you swallow before giving him another look— begging once more. Harry couldn’t care less, and brings his tip to your chin. You did nothing; and Harry roughly shoves two fingers between your lips to get you to open.

“Don’t fret, kitty. It won’t be too rough,” Harry grumbles, contradicting himself though— not even warning you as he shoves his massive length down your throat. You gagged immediately, letting out a pathetic mewl which sent vibrations straight to his cock.

You only let his cock sit in your mouth, your eye already watering at how painful it is to keep your mouth wide enough for Harry’s length. He lets out an annoyed sound, thrusting his hips to gain some movement.

“Y/n, come on. You’re fucking dumb, but you’re not that dumb. Suck on it.”

Out of reluctance, but lacking other options, you pursed your lips and hollowed out your cheeks. He immediately lets out a groan, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the tree behind him.

“Shit- knew that’s what I was missin’- your cute lil mouth. S’ all it’s good for, huh? Suckin me off and talking back- fuck- keep going, baby.”

You close your eyes in concentration, trying your hardest to ignore how your jaw feels like it’s going to fall off. It’s not like you’re not used to this though, or haven’t done this before. You love to please Harry, and you love to suck on him when you can— sometimes even begging him to let you have a taste. But this was different though, it felt as if he genuinely didn’t care if you felt bad, just as long as you were making him feel good.

You slide your head back, just enough to bring your lips right on his tip. You give his cock little kitten licks, your favorite thing to do— before swirling your tongue all around.

Harry moans, bending his knees a bit before steadying himself again. His eyes rolled back before he shuts them again completely.

“F-fuck, good girl! Don’t call you Kitten for no reason- that’s right, be a good girl and keep sucking for Daddy.” He says in a pant, using a hand to brush his hair back before bringing it back down to yours. He pulls your hair back slightly to guide you in the pace he wants. Swallowing harshly, he opens his mouth to speak again.

“Been thinking about this since the ice cream shop, babydoll. You act so innocent but you just love this, don’t you? My lil fuckin’ slut.”

Tears are filled to the brim of your eyes, but you keep on going. Taking your hand, you reach for Harry’s balls and squeeze them as you go.

“Mhm- yeah, should’ve done this in front of Drue and Jack, maybe they would’ve gotten a fuckin’ hint,” Harry says through grunts and moans. Looking down at you, you already look so worn and tired. Your knees are bruised already, your mascara’s running down your face, and your teary, red eyes droop down from exertion.

Harry almost cums from the sight of you crying over his cock.

He thinks about how horrible this all must look; you being completely naked, on your knees, shivering while sucking his cock. He’s still almost fully clothed, and completely comfortable. He loves it— you need to suffer. This is all your fault.

He thrusts his cock even deeper down your throat, but you move your head farther away. As soon as you do, Harry shoves your head down again, indulging in the sight of you so desperate for a break. You struggle and fight for air, pushing on Harry’s thighs desperately, but it only made him thrust his cock faster.

“Mm!” You try to tell him it’s too much, you can’t breath, but it’s no use. His thighs clench harshly, and let’s out a strained groan, which leaves his mouth open slightly. He uses you to edge himself just a bit more, before he decides he’s already become bored.

It felt like ages, but Harry did eventually let you go. You pulled back with a choking gasp and cough. He looks down at you pitifully, a hand slowly rubbing his aching cock. You wipe your dripping tears, feeling your heartbeat quicken when you feel Harry grab you up by the hair.

Whining, you find it difficult to move when he pulls your hair up, but you move rapidly when you notice Harry's angry expression. In one swift movement, he flips you around, your bare backside on his front. He groans when he feels your ass pressing against his still hard cock.

“Baby-baby, baby, baby…” He says in a whisper, so close to your ear, you almost whimper at how sensitive it feels on your skin. Harry holds you in a chokehold with one arm across your neck, and the other trails down your body. He moves so excruciatingly slow, almost tickling you. His hands stroked your stomach, glided down your thighs until he reached between your shaking legs.

All Harry had to do was flick your miserable clit once, and you almost died of pleasure. He knew you were cumming as soon as he felt your poor pussy throb against his fingers. Letting out a shriek of surprise, you almost fall to your knees before Harry’s strong arms catch you. You hadn’t even realized how riled up you were until you squirting all over Harry’s hand, your poor little body shaking tremendously against his.

Even Harry looked surprised for a second, watching how hard you’re cumming from one single flick. You ride out your unexpected orgasm, wailing and whimpering Daddy— over, and over as you came down from your high.

Once you’re done, Harry shoves you away from him, and turns you so you’re forced to face him once more.

“You’re having too much fun.” His tone is so velvety smooth, yet so heartless and demeaning— you can never understand how he does it.

“AH!” You wail, crying out as Harry shoves you harshly towards the ground for like the fourth time. It hurt a thousand times more because you had nothing on. The sticks and forest dirt scrape you vigorously, you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming again. The same sadistic look in Harry’s eyes teases you, watching as you wince in pain below him.

“Ow! Daddy, that hurt!” You whine, your voice wavering from holding in your tears. Harry gives you another “pout.”

“Aw, my baby. Did Daddy push you too hard? Hm? S’hurting you?” You mentally let out a sigh at Harry sympathizing with you for the first time today. It makes you want to forget about everything he’s said and just leap into his arms.

“I don’t fucking care. I don’t care that it hurts,” Harry goes on, the soft tone he used at the start of his sentence completely diminished, making you feel so, so, hopeless.

“You didn’t care how much it hurt to see you with those two bastards, did you? Should’ve known you were too fucking incompetent and dull to understand simple orders.” He begins to take his shoes and clothes off, eyes brutally locked onto yours. He brings his pants all the way down, and with a swift movement, he brings his shirt over his head. Coming to the ground, he climbs on top of you and brings your wrists all the way above your body.

Like the big bad wolf closing in on his victim, he beams at the thought that nothing—not even you—could stop him from torturing you in whatever way he chooses.

You whimper in fear immediately, squirming helplessly under him. You’re eyes go wide when you feel his strong fingers press on your sensitive, raw clit again. You cried out, “Too-too much, AH! Daddy, no.. mm!”

“Too much? I haven’t even begun with you, Kitten.”

He brings his hand to his throbbing cock, stroking it a few times before rubbing it slowly on your pussy. You don’t know why, but this time, looking at his massive length scares you more than any other. You’d be lying if you said his cock didn’t intimidate you every time you saw it. So huge, so thick and veiny— it was imposing, and it always, always hurt when Harry entered you. You knew your sensitive pussy couldn’t take him right now.

“Why, why?” You cry roughly, squirming away again, of course being stopped by Harry’s strong body. His muscles flex while trying to hold you still, and his front strands of hair fall onto his face again.

“Because.. I love to watch you squirm. You know your poor, tiny baby cunt can’t take me.” He pauses.

“But, I feel bad for you. So I’ll give you a count. Five seconds, okay? Go.”

You open your mouth to count, the words falling from your mouth so quietly. As you go, you feel Harry enter you slowly, and you wince at how tight you are, and how big he is. You’re on the fourth count, but you stop, squirming around so much that Harry’s cock falls out of you. It wasn’t in yet, you gratefully sigh— and continue your attempt to leave.

Harry’s bored now. In fact, he’s been bored for the last 10 minutes. He’s sick of hearing your pointless, pathetic begging. He’s sick of your moving around while he’s trying to fuck you. Maybe he could stuff some leaves in your mouth so he can finally make you silent while he has his way with you. Or, maybe he can leave you here all by yourself, with nothing but dirt on your body, while he leaves and enjoys the silent car ride he’ll have to himself. He decides both of those ideas aren’t good at all, because he won’t be able to hear your pretty chokes and gasps when he finally enters you.

Decisions, decisions.

“Look, Kitten— I’m going to fuck you now. Unless your moaning and begging for my dick, you better shut your fucking mouth.”

You cringe. How could Harry be so mean? You’ve tried to get away. You’ve tried to do what he wants, but it always came back to bite you.

“Fucking useless,” Harry mutters. “Count.”

You have no choice. There’s no way out, you’ve realized that now. You always have, but this time you’re finally admitting it to yourself. So, you count.

“One.. T-two..” Harry slowly enters you as you go. At least you’ll be able to prepare for him to be fully in your tight entrance.

“Thr- AH!!” You lunge forward in surprise, eyes rolling back in pain.

“AH! DADDY, MY- You scramble your words, screeching at Harry entering you in one hard, unforgiving thrust. He ignores your tight pussy trying to squeeze him out.

He doesn’t care at all if he’s being cruel, not when your sorry pussy was right there, just waiting to be taken advantage of.

“Oh, fuck.. yeah!” Harry groans out, laughing in the process. He laughs at how miserable and betrayed you look below him.

“Y-you said.. you said..” You choke on your sobs, looking at him through half shut, red teary eyes. Your tiny hands grip his shoulders for support.

“You said count till five!!”

He laughs at your hurt, broken voice.

“Mm, did I?” Harry says, a pondering look on his face, before a sarcastic, devilish one takes its place.

“Sorry, Kitten. Guess I lied.” He barely pays attention to you, pulling out and then thrusting deeper into your walls. He savors your tightness, squeezing him so hard he can barely move.

“How do you stay this fucking tight? Hm? S’like the first time I had you.” He says in groans, his eyes rolling back before staying on you.

“Why- why did you lie?” You can’t help but ask. This whole day has been lies, lies, lies.

Harry doesn’t bother to answer your dull question. He harshly grabs your thigh and pins it above his shoulder so he has a better angle at fucking you. In his head, he curses himself for not bringing a condom, but immediately smiles at the thought of what could happen next.

He’s not completely opposed to the idea of knocking you up, plus, your sweet, sweet pussy is too heavenly to have it be masked by a stupid condom.

You can only look up at Harry, who’s smiling— and you wonder what could be making him smile while you’re enduring such pain. Your chest heaves and your limbs flail around with each thrust. Harry’s so, so, unbelievably big. How does he manage to fit inside you every time? You can never describe how full you feel every time he enters you.

“God- my baby’s got the best pussy out there, yeah-” Harry grunts at how harsh your pussy’s gripping him. He glares down at you, seeing your droopy, shut eyes and the tears streaming down your cheeks. He leans down a little and kisses your tears, gathering the salty taste on his tongue.

“Open those pretty eyes, Babydoll.” He says softly against your skin.

“Open those eyes and cry harder f’me, Darlin’. Like a little baby.. Y’know Daddy loves that, right?”

The raw, filthy sound of you and Harry’s skin coming together fills your ears. His intruding length just rips through you again and again, making your eyes roll back from pain. A strained whine rises from within you.

“Harry.. Daddy.. Stop… hurts so much..”

Harry doesn’t hear you. He chooses not to. He continues to pound into you relentlessly, growling as he picks up his pace. Even with the dirt and scrapes covering them, he can't get over how soft and velvety your thighs always are. He’s in love with your small whimpers and your big eyes pleading for help. He’s in love with how in denial you are, and how perfect his cock fits inside you.

It makes him wonder; have you thought about being this intimate with them? When he punished you in the car, was that what made you confide in them? Did they say something to make you turn away from him? He’s not sure he wants to know. If he did, it would only lead to bad things.

You can’t help but follow Harry’s orders, and you cry harder and harder from the pain. Your mouth falls open, you look up to see Harry move his mouth in a way that’s all too familiar.

“Uh uh.. Daddy, no.. mmh!” Whining in protest, you attempt to turn your head away from Harry, who grabs your jaw roughly.

“Open, Baby. Open, Open..” He forces his fingers in between your lips, and gathers up some saliva from his mouth. He leans down closer, so close to your face that you can feel his breathing hit your face. You hold out your tongue in obedience, tears still constantly streaming down your face. Spit trails from Harry’s pursed lips, falling on your tongue before sliding down your throat. Harry slips his fingers in your mouth again, moaning at your now over-salivated tongue coating his fingers.

The way Harry’s fucking you has him on the verge of tears. He’s in control again. He’s the one who has you wailing from how good he fucks you. Nobody can do that but him. He watches your precious tears fall down your face, and he feels nothing but joy. You can almost feel your little brain struggle at trying to figure this out.

You, crying in a mixture of harsh, stinging pain and pleasure, and him, crying because of how good it feels to be back inside you. How good it feels to have you cry, kick and scream for him to stop because you can’t take anymore.

“Sh-shit! Look what you’ve done.. have me acting out like this..” Harry says in a strained groan while blinking his tears away. He’s appreciative that you shut your eyes, preventing you from witnessing his moment of weakness.

You yelp as you feel Harry continue deeper in you, hitting your spot. The familiar knot in your stomach begins to form, and you cry because, no matter how hard you try, you can’t help it. Your helpless, needy little pussy aches and aches, and it only aches for one thing. Subconsciously, you whimper out Harry’s name, over and over, biting your lip and clawing at his back. Your eyes roll back until you see nothing.

Harry sees how you’re holding back, you’re trying not to cum, and that makes him more than angry. Growling, he brings a hand to your neck, his big, veiny hand choking you slightly. You’re forced to stare at him right in the eyes, seeing the different glints of black, brown, and light green reflect in them.

“Do you seriously think that’s going to work? Hm?Answer me!” Harry shouts the last part, his hand gripping you tighter around the neck as he keeps his pace inside you.

“Do you really think your sad, pathetic pussy could ever not cum when I’m inside you? Look.” Harry exclaims, pulling out slightly, not all the way- just enough to be able to go deeper inside you. He thrusts deep until he reaches your spot again, watching at how distraught you look. Your body shakes and you whimper under him, and if that wasn’t proving his point, your poor pussy closes around Harry’s cock like a vice.

“Think you can deny me.. yeah? Think you can turn away, disobey me and there won’t be any consequences?” He speaks in your ear, making you whine at you sensitive it feels.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up, Kitty. Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.. I’m gonna breed you till that test says positive -ah, f-fuck!” He lets out a strained sound- like mixture of a groan and a whine. He feels his cock twitch repeatedly inside you. He’s close, and he knows you are too.

“You won’t be able to deny me then, huh, baby? Won’t be able to deny me when you’re carrying my offspring in this pretty lil body..” He says tauntingly, bringing his hand from your neck to pet your head slowly.

“Ah- oh my God!! Harry, don’t wanna-”

“Not God, you silly, dumb baby. Just me.” Harry interrupts, placing a soft kiss on your nose before moaning out. His thrust are becoming less stable and more erratic, you can feel it. You clench your pussy more in hopes you can hold on longer, but your body gives up, and your pussy starts to throb around Harry’s cock.

“Yeah.. C’mon! Give it to Daddy. Let Daddy have it, baby. That’s right!” Harry’s face contorts into that malicious smile you saw when he was chasing you earlier. Bringing a hand down to your clit, he rubs vigorously to make it extra hard for you to hold on. He watches your eyes widen as your body finally gives in.

“DADDY!” You screech before breaking into a complete sob, your legs giving out from being up so long.

You’re cumming. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. Your limbs flail around, and your eyes remain rolled to the back of your head. Your pussy throbs harsh and fast around Harry’s cock. You whimper, whine, groan- almost every kind of sound leaves your opened mouth as you shake harshly under Harry. He stares at every involuntary reaction your body has towards him, focusing hard on all the small twitches and movements. How your back is arched so high, how you always, always bite your lip.

Harry will never get tired of knowing that he’s caused that. You’re full of his veiny, fat dick - the only dick you've seen this close, the only dick that's ever been inside of you.

The edging, the messing around, it’s all caught up to him.

“Y-yeah, baby. Daddy’s gonna cum- fuck! Daddy’s gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, alright? Want Daddy to cum inside you? Hm?”

He grunts out, watching you frantically shake your head no. You know what he wants, he admitted it himself. He wants to breed you, make you his forever.

“No.. don’t do it, Daddy..” You begged beneath him.

“Aw,” Harry starts with another one of his condescending pouts. “How am I supposed to pull out of a pussy like this?” He grins, before mocking the desperate expression on your face.

“You keep squeezing me tighter and tighter, Sweetheart- just know this pussy wants to milk Daddy’s cock. Gonna fill you-” He interrupts himself, moaning out as cum pours out of his pulsating cock, and coats your walls. He continues to thrust in you, gripping your hair as he goes. Filling you with his searing, hot cum, it makes you feel so so full. You feel it so deep inside you, claiming you, making his mark inside your body. Just like he wants.

You wanted so badly to not want this, but God, you love how it feels when Harry fills you up. You’ve always been obsessed with feeling his cock twitch and pulsate inside you.

Harry stays inside you for a little while longer, watching you still shake and cry helplessly under him. Though you’re quiet, tears still fall from your cheeks and splatter onto the forest ground. After a few moments more, and Harry pulls out of you slowly, immediately moaning at how all your juices pour out when he does.

He brings his fingers to your sopping pussy, fingering all the juices and cum back into you.

“Mine, mine, mine..” Again, he speaks more to himself, until he looks back at you.

“C’mon. Say it. Be a good girl for Daddy and say it,” He says in your ear.

“Who do you belong to?”

Harry’s hoping inside that you’ll say what’s right. If you do, then all this can be over and the both of you can go back to the way things were. He wouldn’t have to punish you anymore, because he’d know he did his job.

You open your mouth to speak, and a hopeful yet menacing smile appears on Harry’s face. But, your mouth closes, and you turn your face away from him. If you kept eye contact, you would’ve seen the most dark, and wrathful glare Harry could ever give you.

You wanted to say you belong to him, because you do, you know that you do. But you still don’t know what this was for. You thought being close with Drue and Jack was what Harry wanted! When Harry left you in that park, you went to seek comfort from his two best friends. How could that have been so wrong? Would he rather you do that with some random stranger? You still don’t understand.

“Fine.” Scoffing, Harry gets up and quickly puts back in his clothes, leaving his belt off. You gulp, a sinking feeling in your stomach telling you that you know what’s coming next.

Harry grabs his belt, beginning to fold it in half, until he pauses completely.

“Y’know what? Not gonna need it.” He says, callously discarding it somewhere beside you.

“Daddy-” You begin, trying to find a way to compromise with Harry. If you were correct about what was coming next, you were going to do everything you could to stop it. Feeling the scrapes and small gashes on your legs reminded you that your fraile body can’t take that much pain.

Sitting back down on the forest floor, Harry effortlessly brings you back onto his lap. He makes sure you’re on your stomach, propping his left leg slightly so you’re ass remains up in the air. Slowly, he rubs his fingers over your sore ass. His gaze shifts to you, withering at his touch. Your soft sobs continue on.

“You have one more chance, Babydoll. One more.” Harry begins, continuing his slow rubs on your ass.

“It’s really not that hard, I’m sure even you can understand this. All you have to do is say the right answer.” Tauntingly, Harry rubs your hair to calm your nerves.

“Who do you belong-”

“NO!” You screech, completely overpowering Harry. He cocks his head slowly to the side, getting more pissed off by the second. You look up at him, uncomfortably twisting your head to make eye contact. He sees your little pathetic look of determination and laughs.

“No..? What do you mean no?”

You clear your throat before attempting to speak again, trying making sure you sound as big and bad as you can be. You don’t deserve a spanking, you know it. You’ve been nothing but good to Harry. He brought you all the way out here, chased and fucked you until your body gave out, and now wants you to answer a question you know you shouldn’t answer. You just want to be back home in bed, watching your favorite cartoons and stuffing your face with all your favorite food. Instead you’re here, being punished and still not knowing why. You’re angry- No, you’re infuriated.

“You’re just jealous because Drue and Jack can treat me better!”

Horrible idea.

Immediately after saying that, your hands fly to your mouth as if they can take back what you just said. But they can’t, and that scares you to the core. Harry’s face is wrathful, and he narrows his eyes as his pupils grow beady.

“You dumb, pathetic girl.” You think you hear, not being able to comprehend it because of how low Harry spoke. It’s silent for a moment, before your piercing screech breaks right through.

“AH!!”

Harry brings his hand right on your ass, the sharp sound of the slap filling your ears. Your body jerks in response to the pain, and your tears flood your face.

“DON’T!”

SMACK!

“YOU EVER!”

SMACK!

“DISOBEY ME!”

SMACK!

“AGAIN!”

SMACK!

Harry grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head all the way back. Your body is arched as far as it can go, making you whine in pain. He harshly tugs again before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?” He shouts, making your sensitive ears feel like they’re going to fall off. He harshly spanks you again, and again, and again, your body jerking helplessly at every blow.

“Y’think those dimwits could ever take care of you? The way I do? No- better? You stupid girl! Go ahead and see for yourself! They don’t know shit!

You try to get away before he can spank you again, but it’s no use. His grip on your hair won’t budge, and there’s no way you’d be able to leave if you want your hair still attached to your scalp. You see his hand lift up again, and you brace yourself for the blow. This time was even harder, making your ass move harshly at the hit. Harry spanks you again, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed with frustration.

“You need me! You know it! You and your stupid pus- look at it! Look at this stupid-“ He cuts himself off, letting your hair go and using both hands to spread your ass cheeks.

“Look at this stupid fucking cunt- you’re still wet!” He callously spanks your still sensitive pussy, and you wail as you grip his thigh.

“HARRY! AH-” Your wails are interrupted by Harry spanking you again. You don’t know how much longer you can take this. It hurt so much, you almost feel numb. Your poor ass was now an angry red, bruised and so beat up. Harry doesn’t care, he continues lashing out on your poor body.

“Go ahead and scream, you pathetic baby. Nobody can fucking hear you!” Harry taunts, never stopping his blows to your ass.

As he goes, you remember a certain sentence from Drue, when you were on the bench with him and Jack.

“Someone as innocent as you shouldn’t be with someone as fucked up as Harry.”

The moment plays through your head clearly, making you realize something; Drue and Jack were trying to get to you all along. They danced with you, touched you, and even tried to take care of you, all while Harry was gone. It made you realize that Harry was right the whole time.

And that only made everything worse.

Your sobs grow louder as Harry continues spanking you, taking turns on each cheek. You don’t even fight anymore, knowing full well that you deserve it. You were bad. You should’ve just listened to Harry, instead you were stubborn, like you always were.

“Daddy..! I’m sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry..” You begin, still wailing like a little baby over Harry’s lap.

“I’m yours, Daddy! I’m yours, only yours!”

The spankings stop as soon as Harry hears those words. For a while, Harry doesn’t do anything. He leans back against the tree, watching you completely fall apart on his lap. You sob and sob, your body helplessly twitching from being so stimulated. A few more long, excruciating moments pass before you feel Harry grab your torso and flip you on your back. You still remain on his lap, and your eyes begin to flutter shut as you see Harry’s eyes stare right down into yours.

“That’s my girl..” He whispers ever so gently above you. That was mainly for him to hear. His hands wander slowly and carefully up and down your body, feeling every part of you that he could with just his hands. He makes his way to your chest, grabbing and squeezing your precious boobs before he kisses them softly. Next, his hands wander down your waist, tracing your curves until he got to your thighs. Your beautiful, luscious thighs. He could never do without them. He loves them for multiple reasons. He loves to lay on them, kiss them, bite them.. He loves when he’s face deep in between your thighs.. and how you wrap them around his head to push him deeper. To feel his tongue deeper in you.

Slowly, you shift so you can sit perfectly in Harry’s lap. He doesn’t help you. He watches as you helplessly crawl back to him. Once you get fully comfortable without hurting yourself, you bury your head into Harry’s chest.

“Da-Daddy.. H-hurts.. everything hurts..” Your voice is strained, like almost everything else on your body, and you shiver as the cold wind begins to pick up.

“I know, baby.. I know.” Harry grabs his jacket and wraps it around you tightly before trapping you in his warmth.

“Shhh. It’s okay Darlin’. See? that’s all you needed to do. Just needed to tell Daddy you’re his- I know, baby.” Harry sympathizes with you, trying to ensure that you know he’s no longer cross with you.

“S’okay now, I promise.“

Nobody knows how to tear you apart and put you back together like he does.

“Let’s get this pretty dress back on you, yeah? Y’know this is one of Daddy’s favorites.” He starts to reclothe you while maintaining a low, soothing voice for you. Wiping the dirt and dander from the forest floor, he attempts to unwrinkle it as best he can. He locates your MaryJanes and applies the same treatment to them, taking care to remove the obvious stains from your most precious shoe. Once you are both off the ground, he gives you a long, passionate kiss on top of your head.

“You did a good job, baby.”

You’re silent. You acknowledge him with a barely noticeable nod, too tired to give him a full response. With one arm, Harry carries you against his hip all the way back to the car. Somewhere along the path he noticed your body fall limp in his arms, your head laying helplessly on his shoulder as fall asleep. He places you in the passenger seat of the car, buckling you up before going back for your belongings.

Harry did get the peaceful drive back that he wanted. Your soft, faint snores with the low sound of the car engine are all that can be heard. Still, memories of that day at the park continue to nag at him.

There are a lot of things about that day that Harry will never admit. How when he left you at the park with Drue and Jack to make phone calls, he was in his car, spending the majority of his time jerking off to the fading taste of your juices that were left on his tongue. If he's being truly honest with himself, the fact that his friends genuinely thought they could replace him, turned him on even more. They don't know the closest thing about taking care of you, and how to take care of you when you're acting up. How to take care of you when you're crying and crying about something so stupid.

The days that follow show just how much the little run around in the forest impacted you. Your body has been so sorely used and strained that you're dependent on Harry for help with nearly everything. You can’t even use the bathroom or sit in a chair because of sensitive and worn out you are. Harry’s lap is the only thing your body can withstand. And your pussy, your poor pussy still hasn’t been recovered from being so fucked out. The slightest bit of contact between your pussy and literally anything makes you clench your legs. Harry of course helps you with everything, giving you massages and relieving the aching pain in your pussy whenever he can. He’s always conveniently there.

He tells you that you’re a big girl and you can handle this, but you don’t how much more you can take before you rip your hair out. It’s like being stimulated 24/7, which nothing and no one but Harry to help the pain. You’re indeed suffering, but Harry couldn’t feel any more accomplished. Now more than ever, you need him, you rely on him, just like you always should. You’re ruined. It shows in almost every aspect.

Yes, Harry couldn’t be anymore satisfied.

<3 @love-letters-to-uranus

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlists #answered asks #dom!harry #imagines #innocent reader #harry edward styles #one direction #dark fic #fanfics #x reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 10 months ago

Note

I saw this image on Pinterest and it made me giggle a lot. May I request a Choso x Female Reader fluff oneshot based on this? Like after this awkward encounter choso attempts to talk to someone else which is reader who is actually really kind and is actually willing to make conversation with Choso making him feel human 😊

Oooh! Definitely! That’d be a amazing concept for our dear big brother Choso himself. He deserves so much love and affection so goddamn yes, I am going to write this. Love the idea, big credits to you! And sorry, this is also short and bad

Kamo Choso- One of the Same

Choso did not suspect this whatsoever… he didn’t suspect you to be so friendly, sociable and open-hearted. Almost everybody here are hardened and closed-off, that it’s almost tiresome. He cannot help but feel that you don’t belong within this team. You’re glowing with positivity and shining brighter than the sun, willing to talk to somebody like him whilst Kashimo, the first person Choso tried to communicate with, immediately ignored him and rightfully ignored him

Choso is so confused, even though he was the one who approached you, defeated and certain he’d get rejected again, as he listens to you talk to him and he answers after a bit of hesitation and timidity. He isn’t the best at social situations, clearly very socially-inept and whilst he wanted to know what friendship is like, outside of guarding and caring for his beloved little brother Yuji, he isn’t actually ready to handle such a extroverted, kind person like you. It doesn’t mean he will walk away now

He actually really appreciates how sweet you are, it’s a rarity to find a sugary gemstone within this dark cruel world

Choso… feels like a person when he talks to you. The way you smile genuinely, the way you respond excitably at his every small comment, the way you look at him like he isn’t a Cursed Object called a ‘Death Painting’. He feels likes you, that he isn’t a monster at all and that was has drawn him to you in such a small time

Choso went from just standing in the corner, only communicating with Yuji when he needed to, to full-blown talking to and nodding in response to you, the kind gentle member of this little Sorcery squad. Sitting down with you on a nice big rock whilst the group had been setting up camp outside during this whole Culling Games, Yuji feels immense pride for Choso, for his ‘older brother’ finally being able to branch out and find a new friend. It doesn’t help that Choso finds you very pretty

He could listen to you talk to him anytime and he is pretty glad he gathered back enough self-confidence to approach you on his own. He has his first ever non-family friend he wished he had made beforehand and he really likes this warm, fuzzy feeling you’re giving him as you keep hearing him out and boosting him up to speak more. He is still little and quiet whilst having this conversation, but he feels less isolated and alienated. He feels like he can say anything and be supported

In reality, you’ve always liked how cool and loving he is to his brothers so you’ve been wanting to talk to him seperately for a while now. You can see why Yuji has decided to ally with him, Choso is a wonderful person, even if he is a Cursed Object to his core. Yet, this Cursed Object really likes the pretty sorcerer listening to him and flashing that gorgeous smile on her pretty face

“Well… do you have any siblings, Dokusha?”

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exhuastedpigeon · 1 year ago

Text

November 24 - Dec 1

Welcome to my second weekly Buddie fic rec list! Here are the fics I read or reread this week that I liked the most! The lists are tagged as ‘Han’s Buddie Recs’ and 'Han's Weekly Fic Recs'

Newly Read

Batting a Buck & Change by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 15.5k Eddie and Chim embark on a “Dad’s night out” to watch baseball at a sports bar, and after a few too many, Eddie accidentally lets his feelings for Buck slip.

It’s Not the Roaring Dream, It’s the Silent Lightning by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi Mature || 15.2k (or the one where Buck is married to Eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go.)

wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) by bigfootsmom/@bigfootsmom Explicit || 13.2k Eddie is back at work and everything is going great. Except he's in love with his best friend and can't have him, so things actually aren't all that great.

He's made it this far with wanting but never having Buck, so he'll be fine.

But when the offer to have a threesome with said best friend arises, Eddie can't not take it, right?

What could go wrong?

Eddie/Buck/Lucy threesome with so many Buddie feelings

the next best thing by wikiangela /@wikiangela Explicit || 9k Buck accidentally sends a nude and a spicy text to Eddie - things escalate from there.

S P I C Y !!!!

Out of Order, Still In Line by callmeewbie /@callmenewbie Explicit || 6.2k When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

SPICY!!

i come with a softer answer by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 5.7k in which there is a frog, and a fair, and an eddie who allows himself to accept what he deserves.

coax the cold right out of me by oklahoma/@malewifediazTeen || 2.6k “You know,” Eddie begins, running his fingers through Buck’s damp, frizzy curls, “when I booked this cabin for the weekend, I had plans for us to fuck real nasty by the fire.”

Buck laughs—an ugly, congested noise that sounds like it hurts when it gets caught in his chest—and tips his head back to meet Eddie’s gaze in the low light of the blazing fire. His big blue eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red, hot by the fire and chapped by the wind; he looks like a kid, almost, sitting on the floor and wrapped tight in a large, black fleece blanket with nothing beneath except a pair of boxers and fuzzy socks.

“Well,” Buck croaks, “we’re still by the fire, at least.”

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest) by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 Gen || 1.9k What starts out as a normal 118 gathering ends with Buck sitting on Eddie's lap.

This fic is so soft, it feels like falling asleep in Eddie Diaz’s lap.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) by HungryHungryHippo/@hippolotamus Explicit || 1.8k || Lutalia OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift

This fic is so hot I needed time to cool off after reading it.

In my defence I was left unsupervised by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 1.3k Buck gets bored and decides on a new look.

Can we just say the rest with no sound by devirnis/@devirnis Gen || 1.3k It’s late by the time Eddie finally pulls up in front of his house. In the passenger seat beside him, Buck is still staring blankly out the window, showing no indication that he’s aware they’ve arrived at their destination.

He’s been like this since they left the hospital. Quiet, still. Despondent.

Rereads

let’s hear it for the boy by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 56.2k in which eddie attends a self-empowerment group for gbtq men to supplement his therapy, and is empowered to: forgive himself, say "i'm gay" to his own reflection in the mirror, accidentally adopt an adult, make fried rice, and tell his straight best friend that he's in love with him. not necessarily in that order.

This fic is so special to me. It has one of my favourite lines from a fic of all time - “you don’t realize what the world is doing to you until long after it’s already done”.

in the night we trust by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon Explicit || 29.2k Or: Eddie and Buck start sleeping together when they're all stuck at Buck's place during lockdown. It still takes them almost three years to notice that they're in love.

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril/@runawaymarbles Mature || 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

One of the most unique time loop fics I’ve read. What happens once you’re out of a time loop? How do you move forward?

WIPs

The Lost and The Found by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 28.3k || 3/10 chapters posted

Eddie Diaz was born a shifter, of the wolf variety, and he loves his life. Visiting his Abuela one summer he meets a new friend but not long after that everything in his life gets turned around and hard choices have to be made. Eddie faces his responsibilities and does what he has to do.

Shifter AU, my beloved! As of adding to my rec list, three chapters have been posted! Be sure to follow Spots so you can read snippets when she shares them!

#Han’s Buddie Recs #Han's Weekly Fic Recs #buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie 911 #buddie recs #fic recs #rec list #buddie rec list

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jacksdinonuggets · 2 months ago

Note

For hurt/comfort, how about Vaggie is having a bad autism day and regresses so big brother Angel helps calm her down?

of course!

tw: meltdowns, mention of Valentino, and mention of blood

It was done. Adam was dead. Nifty had killed him, letting his golden blood spew everywhere. Everyone was really happy, especially because he had brought them so much mental and physical pain. Vaggie was pretty happy about it too. However, she would be lying if she said a part of her wasn’t a little sad. Sometimes he was like a father figure to her. Sure, he was a bit…crude at times, but he also worried and cared for his girls. It just felt like a big part of her childhood had just died.

“Soo, who's up for pancakes?” Lucifer asked. Nifty raised her hand, very excited for his sweet treat. Vaggie, not so much. She was feeling nauseous and her brain was feeling so fuzzy and foggy. Not to mention all the emotions she needed to process. They were coming at her all at once and it was really overwhelming.

Lucifer suddenly teleports all of them to the Morningstar palace. This just made Vaggie feel so much worse. Her surroundings changed so fast. Change wasn’t good. She needed to go back to the rubble! But she couldn’t without being seen as weird or it being a waste of time.

“There's a couple of guest rooms you guys can take. Wash up while I go get the pancakes ready!” he tells them before disappearing into the kitchen.

Everything was too much. Why did he teleport them?! Why couldn’t they just walk?! She needed to slowly go through change. Not this! She needed to shower. She wanted these itchy feathers stuck to her with blood off. She really hoped she would get to the shower first. Charlie always took forever with showers.

“Hey Hun? I’m gonna go get washed up. Wanna shower with me?” Charlie asked. No, vaggie did not. Charlie talked too much when they were alone and she really didn’t want to hear that right now. She just wanted to be alone. She wanted to lay down in her crib in the nursery. She wanted to cuddle with her koala bear and suck on her paci. But she couldn’t do that because the nursery, her safe space, was gone! It was destroyed in battle.

“I-... I’m good, Char. I’ll wait,” She says. Charlie deserved to take a shower first. She had lost one of her best friends and was probably also dealing with a lot of sensory issues.

“Okay… but if you need anything, I’ll be in our room.” Charlie assured her, walking upstairs.

Once she was out of sight, Vaggie made a beeline towards the bathroom (the ones that don’t usually have showers). She felt a meltdown coming up and did not want anyone to see her having a tantrum.

However, Angel dust saw her start running towards the bathroom as he was talking to husk. It looked like she was overwhelmed and distressed. Angel would know, his co-workers often had that look after a shoot as they ran to their dressing room. The sounds of meltdowns and panic attacks were always heard in the studio.

Concerned, Angel excused himself and followed her. He saw her enter one of the bathrooms. Instead of barging in, he waited a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t actually using it.

“Vags, you okay in there?” He asked, knocking on the door. Muffled and strangled cries was his response.

“I’ll give you a few seconds to get decent if you’re not, but I will be coming in,” He announced

After waiting about 10 seconds, he got out a hair pin and started picking the lock. When he got it, he opened the door.

Poor Vaggie was curled up against the sink, banging her head on the wooden cabinets. Her hands were gripping her pants so hard that her knuckles were turning white. She choked on sobs, obviously trying to keep quiet.

“Hey, hey, Shh, it’s okay, doll” He kneels down in front of her. She pulls her head back and bangs it really hard against the cabinets. Angel winces, knowing that must’ve really hurt. He placed a hand between the cabinet and her head.

“Vaggie, sweetie, take sum deep breaths, please,” He insists. She wasn’t really hyperventilating, but it was still concerning.

She takes a few but it just forces her to let out a loud sob as tears flow. Stupid angel and his hands stopping her from injuring herself.

“I know, I know, this is very overwhelming, but you gotta calm down,” Angel sits next to her, making sure he doesn’t touch her.

He hesitates for a sec before taking off his hat. Inside of the cap was a little replica plushy of Fat Nuggets. It was very important to him. Even though he got Nugs from Val, the pig provided him a lot of comfort. The gift became separated from the gifter.

“Wanna hold him?” he asks, holding the plush out. Vaggie needed the comfort a lot more than he did right now.

Vaggie held the plush, the friendly face and soft fabric helped her calm down a little. Angel started singing soft lullabies in italian, which helped vaggie relax a lot. He was fluent and his accent was soft. With enough singing, she eventually calmed down.

“Wanna tell your big bro what happened?” Angel asked, guessing what headspace she was in.

“Evewyfing too much. Dun wanna be here. Dun wike change. Wanna go home to nuwsery…” Vaggie explains, curling up with her knees against her chest.

Angel frowned. He couldn’t really help with anything. Sure, he calmed her down, but he couldn’t bring back her safe space.

“Wanna baf…nd cuddles” Suddenly, she leaned against Angel’s shoulder, closing her eyelids.

He smiled. At least he could help with those.

“I’ll let your Mama give you bath when she’s done showering, but I don’t mind giving you a few cuddles for now,” He said, picking her up and laying her down in his lap.

They moved to the couch in the gigantic living room to cuddle. When Charlie came back downstairs to tell Vaggie the bathroom was open, she saw Vaggie laying against Angel while sucking on her thumb. She awed, finding it adorable. They always acted like they hated each other but when Vaggie went small, Angel made it his goal to be the best big brother in the world.

#agere writing #hazbin hotel agere #age regression #hazbin hotel age regression #fandom agere #padded agere #sfw agere #agere fanfic #age regression fanfiction #age regression fanfic #age regression fic #age dreamer #age dreaming #agere comfort #agere prompts #agere writing prompts #autistic agere #baby agere #age regressor

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withacapitalp · 2 years ago

Text

How to Rehabilitate a Jock in Four Months Part 11

Part One Part 10 Part Twelve Link to Ao3

Alrighty guys I want you all to thank @stevethehairington for betaing this and making it fantastic, @henderdads for making the poll that made me finally finish writing this, and @steveshairychest for being a furry lmaooo (Sorry I had to)

Also I know you guys reallllly aren't going to want to hear this, but I wanted to put out one more chapter before I let you know that HTRAJ is going on a hiatus. Not a long one! I just have way too many WIPs going right now, and two of them are Valentines gifts (and good reads if I do say so myself!)

Step Eleven: Play Some Music

“Steve gets shotgun,” Eddie called as they exited the trailer, tossing Steve a smile that made his chest feel fuzzy as he jumped down the last two steps.

“What the hell man?” Jeff grumbled, looking slightly put out, “We take turns,”

Steve opened his mouth to say he didn’t mind and he would take sitting in the back, but Eddie pushed him towards the van with ease.

“Steve’s never been inside of Hortensia, he deserves to see her at her absolute best,” He reasoned, giving Jeff a big megawatt smile and waiting to see what he would say. He still didn’t seem thrilled, but Jeff just rolled his eyes and climbed into the backseat.

Steve would have made a comment on the fact that Eddie had named his beat up clunker ‘Hortensia’ of all things, but it was just so Eddie that all he could do was smile and shake his head. That was classic Eddie, always seeing the good, always finding something to make better. A trashy white van was Hortensia, an ex-jock was a potential friend.

It was his superpower, almost as strong as El’s.

“Your ride, my liege,” Eddie said, opening the passenger side theatrically. Steve rolled his eyes and climbed in, buckling his seatbelt as Eddie jumped into the drivers side seat and flourished his keys.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Eddie declared, turning the ignition.

Nothing.

Another attempt. The van gave a low grumble but did nothing.

“Damn hunk of junk, piece of shit, mother-”

“Hortensia, huh?” Steve said with a raised brow, interrupting Eddie’s tirade of angry muttering. He threw Steve a slightly dirty look, staring at him directly in the eye as he tried the ignition again.

Bingo. The van roared to life, headlights instantly taking the empty blackness around the trailer and filling it with trees. The entire group cheered as Eddie victoriously beeped the horn, and Steve opened his mouth to say some stupid comment that would probably make everyone laugh.

Then the headlights flickered.

In a single moment the ease, the happiness, it was just gone. Like a fire in dry brush, it had disappeared, and all that was left was a quick panicky feeling that there was something watching them, something waiting nearby.

He needed his bat.

“What the hell- Woah, what’re you doing?!” Eddie demanded as Steve shoved his way out of the car, walking over to his Beemer. He had already gotten his backpack out and was rifling through it by the time Eddie snuck up on him.

“Steve?” Eddie asked softly.

Eddie was out of the van. He was vulnerable. If something was sneaking up on them, then he would be the first one down.

Steve moved quickly, spinning the two of them so Eddie was up against his car, and Steve was out in front of him. That was better. He didn’t have a weapon, but he knew how to fight these things. At the very least, Eddie would have the time to run to the van if things went bad.

“Do you see anything?” Steve asked, looking around them.

The lights had only flickered once, just once, but once was enough. Once was a warning, and ignoring that would be stupid.

That was Hopper’s number one rule. Don’t be Stupid.

“What should I be seeing? A boogeyman?” Eddie teased, standing up straight and walking over to Steve, “You think I’m gonna see a were-”

“Eddie,” Steve cut him off with a severe look, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and pulling him behind him again, “Do you see anything?”

“No,” Eddie murmured after a moment. Steve spared a quick glance behind him, faltering when he saw just how uneasy Eddie was.

“There’s…Steve there’s nothing out there,”

Nothing out there. The lights were clear, they had been the entire time, and there was no growling, no sound of strange steps creeping up. Just the purr of a rusty engine, and the sound of Steve’s blood racing in his ears.

Eddie was right. There was nothing out there.

A rush of humiliation barreled over Steve, erasing everything else. He let out a slow shaking breath, running a hand over his face and hating the way his eyes were starting to burn.

A few lights acting funny and he turned into this? Over lights?

“Are you-”

“I’m fine,” Steve whispered, the lie strikingly obvious to both of them, “Just-”

Steve reached around Eddie and grabbed his backpack off of the ground, hefting it up over one shoulder and turning back to the van.

“I have what I need. Let’s go,” Steve said, closing the door before Eddie could ask him again if he was okay.

Flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, knife.

Flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kid, knife.

Flashlight-

What was he doing?

Steve forced an exhale, pushing all of the air out of his lungs, letting the deafening chatter from the car around sink back in, and finally releasing the death grip he had on his bag.

The backpack that had his flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, and knife. Everything he could carry inconspicuously in case of an emergency. His knife wasn’t ideal, but better than nothing. Steve would have loved to have Baby with him too, but she had to stay in the trunk of the Beemer. The last thing he needed was everyone to know how actually insane he was now, and carrying around a bat full of nails was a one way ticket to the loony bin.

Maybe he should ask Nancy to teach him how to shoot a gun. A pistol was easily hidden, and-

Jesus. There really was something wrong with him.

This was fun. Steve was supposed to be having fun. It was just a nice normal night with nice normal friends. The gates were closed, the kids were all together having a sleepover at the Wheeler’s, everything was just fine.

So why was his stomach still twisted up in knots? Why was he obsessively looking out the window at the trees, just to make sure nothing was running alongside the van?

“What do you think, Steve?” Eddie asked, thrusting Steve back into the conversation happening all around him. The bumping bass from the radio was gone, and the rest of the group was now staring at him, waiting for an answer.

Shit.

Steve curled his hand around the strap of his backpack again, shrugging and giving Eddie a tight lipped smile, hoping that would be at least a somewhat adequate answer. Judging by Eddie’s furrowed brow and downturned mouth, it wasn’t.

Flashlight. Walkie-Talkie. Car Keys. First Aid Kit. Knife. Flashlight. Walkie-Talkie. Car Keys. First Aid Kit. Knife.

“He probably hasn’t listened to either of them yet,” Jeff cut in, tapping his chin.

Oh. They were still talking about bands. Steve probably couldn’t have answered that question even if he had been listening instead of quietly freaking out.

“You can tell us which was your favorite after the show,” Frank said, making eye contact with Steve from the rearview mirror and giving him an easygoing smile. Steve returned it, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Frank was a cool guy. Understated, but nice. He always kind of hung around in the back, but that was fine. In a group like Hellfire with so many big personalities, having a steady person like Frank helped to balance everything out.

“I still think he would like Black Sabbath best,” Jeff said, settling back in his seat.

“Of course you think that,” Gareth replied with a roll of his eyes, pausing for a minute before crossing his arms and continuing in a begrudging tone, “Quiet Riot. Everyone can appreciate them. Even Steve.”

It wasn’t exactly an insult, so Steve decided to let go of any part of him that bristled at Gareth’s words. Gareth was a lot like Mike, it took him time to warm up. It was just…taking a bit longer than Steve had expected it to.

Whatever. He liked a good challenge.

“Trust me, we’ll play a song from the new Dio album and Steve’ll be a total convert,” Eddie said, shooting Steve a bright smile that warmed him from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. “We’ll have to get you a battle vest to match mine soon enough,”

Without really thinking about it, Steve let go of his bag and reached up to play with the guitar pick hanging around his neck. Even just touching it was enough to ease away whatever nerves were still rolling around his body.

It wasn’t like he was magically some different person, but wearing Eddie’s clothes and having his necklace was… it was almost like there was a shield. They were a buffer, a barrier between Steve and the fear that seemed to rule over everything he did nowadays. Here he wasn’t the babysitter or the protector. He was the new kid, someone who was still learning and allowed to slip up. If he didn’t know something, then it wasn’t the end of the world.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked, staying quiet so the other three who were still debating wouldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Steve replied immediately, squeezing his fingers around the chain and taking a slow deep breath, “better now,”

“If you wanna talk, I’m always here,” Eddie whispered back, giving Steve one more soft glance before turning his eyes back to the road. Steve sighed, dropping his hands back to his lap and letting his head rest against the seatbelt, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the forest around them.

The thing was, Steve knew he wanted to talk to Eddie. He wanted to tell him that Dustin had left at 4 o’clock today, and Steve had been late because he was nervous about coming tonight. He wanted to tell Eddie that he was worried about fitting in, worried about letting his guard down, worried about the endless ‘what-if's' that seemed to run around in his mind in an endless loop these days. Eddie would listen, and even if he didn’t understand, he would empathize.

Steve wanted to, but he couldn’t.

Because Eddie was understanding, but he was also so so nosey. He would poke and prod and try to learn the whole story, because he wouldn’t be able to help himself, and Steve couldn’t handle that. If that happened, Steve would have to pull back, put distance between them. Not only to protect himself and his people, but to protect Eddie too.

Steve had seen what happened to people who got pulled into their world.

Bob was what happened.

And even the thought of something like that happening to Eddie made Steve’s heart race. He reached up to touch the guitar pick again just to ground himself in the moment.

It was fine. Nothing was going to happen to Eddie. Nothing was going to happen to any of them. Steve wouldn’t let anything ever happen to any of them.

“Alright freeloaders, we’re here!” Eddie crowed, and Steve opened his eyes just as they pulled into the parking lot of a dingy looking hovel.

The place looked about two steps from being closed for a health code violation, and Steve was instantly reminded that his mom had made him promise to never get within a thousand feet of the Hideout. It was apparently a bar for ‘other’ kinds of people. Mechanics and factory workers and cashiers. Not Harringtons.

But here he was, right outside, and the world hadn’t caved in. Imagine that. Steve laughed quietly to himself, getting out of the van and coming around to the back with the rest.

“‘Sup douchebags!” A voice called from across the parking lot.

Rocky and Janet were walking over, both decked out in their metal best. Rocky was wearing the same spiked vest he wore every day, but he had chosen a pair of jeans to go with it that was more chain than denim, a look that would have gotten him sent straight to detention if he so much as stepped onto the parking lot of the school wearing it. Janet was wearing her usual attire, but her hair was up in a messy bun complete with deep dark eyeliner and a skull patterned choker.

“Hey asshole,” Gareth replied, slapping Rocky’s hand against his own and opening the van door, “Help us with set up?”

As they began to coordinate getting all of the stuff out of the van, Janet skipped over to Frank to chat.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come out tonight,” Frank said, rubbing his arm and giving her a timid smile.

“I wasn’t. As far as my parents know I’m asleep in bed right now,” She replied, giving Frank a mischievous little grin as she kissed him quickly on the cheek, turning around before she could see the way the boy immediately turned into a tomato.

“Hi Steve. I like the new look. You should wear it to school when we go back. Start 1985 off with a bang,” Janet said in her normal slightly snarky tone.

“Hi Janet,” Steve said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and ducking his head down to hide the stupid grin on his face as she came over to inspect him, pointing out various add-ons he could have made to get the ‘true full metal experience’.

This was the thing he had been searching for. Blissful normalcy with dumb conversations and stupid lighthearted jabs. Something easy that wasn’t bogged down in reality.

“Hup two, guys. We’re already late,” Eddie huffed, pulling on an amp that was far too big for him to hold up on his own.

“And who’s fault is that?” Jeff said with a roll of his eyes, quickly stepping in to take the other side of the equipment and gently easing it out of the van. Steve grabbed a random box and hefted it up, walking towards the door with Janet hot on his heels, still examining his new outfit.

“Is that Eddie’s necklace?” She blurted out the second she spotted the dark red swirls, her jaw dropping open comically wide as she stared at it with huge eyes.

“Someone decided to play Heavy Metal Barbie with pretty boy right before we were supposed to leave,” Gareth grunted, accidentally smacking Rocky with one of his drums as he stepped out of the van.

“Okay! Let’s just get moving, please!” Eddie quickly shouted in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice, practically dragging Jeff as he hurried into the bar.

If Steve wanted to let himself over examine things, then he would have dared to say that Eddie was blushing. Instead of assessing that particular thought, he grabbed the door and held it open for the rest.

With all seven of them working, set up went quickly, and before too long there were only a few things left to get.

“I’ll grab them so you can start tuning or whatever,” Steve offered.

“I’ll go with you,” Rocky said, pulling Steve out of the bar.

“You know, I can’t believe he let you wear his lucky pick,” Rocky said the second they were alone outside, pitching his voice low even though there was no one to overhear them. “He doesn’t even let anyone else touch it, let alone wear it. ”

This was enough to stop Steve in his tracks, his eyes darting down to the little piece of plastic around his neck.

No one else was even allowed to touch it?

The necklace was already sentimental enough when it was just Eddie’s favorite. Now it was something precious, a treasure that wasn’t meant for any other person. Steve had been joking about Eddie staking a claim on him before, but the guitar pick practically felt like a brand at this point.

The startling thing was just how much Steve didn’t mind.

It was the same as ‘Sweetheart’. This was another thing that guys weren’t supposed to do for other guys, another thing that Steve shouldn’t want. He should be taking it off right now, handing it back to Eddie and going home back to the life he belonged in.

None of this was right. Steve shouldn’t be here at a bar meant for people who were supposedly below him, he shouldn’t be dressed up like a metalhead going to listen to thrashing loud music in the middle of the night, and he certainly shouldn’t be happy Eddie Munson was having him wear something he wouldn’t even let anyone else even touch.

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. This wasn’t who Steve was supposed to be.

But was anything the way it was meant to be anymore?

There were monsters from other dimensions and little girls who could move things with their minds. There were government cover ups, evil scientists, and dead people all over the place.

No, nothing was how it was supposed to be anymore. At least this was a change that made Steve happy. He didn’t need to think about that too much, or try to figure out why.

At least, he didn’t need to yet.

“Well…maybe he just thought I could use some good luck tonight,” Steve murmured, reaching up and letting his fingers rest against the necklace for a moment before grabbing one last amp and walking back into the bar. He put it down gently on the floor of the ‘stage’ (It was a rickety wooden platform that was barely a feet off the ground, but Eddie had called it a stage), fully intending to turn right around and go back to the car to get his backpack.

“That was the last of it, Sweetheart,” Eddie called from behind, making Steve stop short, “Rocky and Jan grabbed the best table in the house for you guys. It’s far enough that the drunks won’t hurl on you if they end up having a little bit too much. ”

“Oh um,” Steve’s mind flitted around as he looked for any excuse he could use, “I…left my wallet in the van,”

Steve crossed his fingers, praying that Eddie wouldn’t call out the very obvious wallet shaped lump in his right pants pocket.

“You won’t need it,” Eddie said smoothly, hopping down and steering Steve gently towards the table with their friends, “The barkeep knows to keep my people fed and watered. Just let him know you’re here with me, or better yet, make Rocky do all the heavy lifting. He is a freshman after all, he has to take his licks.”

That would be great if Steve was actually worried about his wallet. He wasn’t. He needed his flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, and knife. He needed to be prepared in case things went wrong.

He needed those things, but he couldn’t explain to Eddie why, and he couldn’t walk out right now without looking like he was trying to ditch. Steve’s breathing started to kick up, and he could feel his heart leaping in his chest.

They weren’t safe right now. Anything could happen, and he wasn’t prepared. Anything could go wrong, and-

“Relax,” Eddie said slowly as they reached the table, pulling out a stool and nudging Steve towards it, “No one’s gonna bite,”

“I will,” Rocky immediately replied, baring his teeth just for show.

“Okay well don’t sit too close to him, and you’ll be just fine,” Eddie laughed, the other two Hellfire members snickering alongside him. This was where Steve should laugh with them too, but his throat was closing up.

He was in a place he didn’t know, with a group who he didn’t really know, without anything to defend himself or keep in touch with his people.

This wasn’t safe. Steve wasn’t safe right now.

A soft touch on his arm startled him and he jumped back. Or he would have, if Eddie hadn’t held on and kept him from moving and crashing into the table. Steve stiffened up, looking up at Eddie knowing that he wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide how freaked out he had become.

He couldn’t care about that. He couldn't care about anything except how dangerous everything had suddenly become.

“Seriously. Everything’s okay. I promise,” Eddie whispered, leaning in so their heads were close together. Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath the way Joyce had shown him. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

Usually it didn’t do anything for him, breathing slowly normally only made him even more aware of how little air there was in the room, but the breathing combined with Eddie’s hand still on his arm was enough to get Steve centered again.

Everything was okay. The kids were safe, Nancy and Jonathan were safe, Hopper and Joyce were safe.

Steve was safe.

He was out with friends doing something fun, and there was nothing wrong with that. This was normal. This was what he was working towards. All he wanted was something easy, and this was easy. He didn’t have to make things complicated by being afraid.

And, if anything went wrong, he could just run outside and get his things.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered.

“Anytime,” Eddie whispered back, his big dark eyes locked on Steve’s. Once again Steve was completely aware of the guitar pick around his neck, and the fact that no one else was even allowed to touch it.

“Eddie! Seriously! Tick fucking tock!” Frank shouted from the ‘stage’. Eddie growled quietly, muttering to himself about evil bandmates who had no sense of boundaries. Steve snorted, chuckling softly until Eddie stopped grumbling.

“Have a good show,” Steve said, pulling away from Eddie and hopping up onto the stool.

“Prepare to have your world rocked,” Eddie said, trying to act cool as he walked backwards, but tripping on the world’s tiniest step and falling flat on his ass on the stage.

Steve made a valiant attempt to not laugh along with the rest of the bar, but he quickly failed, tossing his head back and laughing loudly, putting a hand on his chest and feeling the hard plastic against his fingertips. Eddie paused, giving Steve an indescribable look before straightening up and brushing away the invisible dirt from his vest.

“And with that incredibly suave move, I’d like to formally introduce our band to the dozen or so drunks that are here tonight,” Eddie said into the mic, spreading his arms out wide like he would at Hellfire. The meager crowd yelled back and raised their drinks, making Eddie put on an absolutely feral grin

“Ladies and gentleworms, we are Corroded Coffin,”

Much like Dungeons and Dragons, Steve hadn’t really expected that he would enjoy the show. He liked Eddie and he enjoyed the rest of the group, so he figured he would come and watch and be a good sport.

And, much like Dungeons and Dragons, he was completely wrong.

It wasn’t his favorite genre of music by any means, but the energy in the air was absolutely enthralling. From the first note there was just this push, this indescribable palpable movement in the air that was exhilarating while also being settling. It was like they were collectively experiencing something special, and all having a grand old time while doing it.

It didn’t hurt that he was also about four whiskey sours in.

He had only planned to drink one, maybe two, but every time his glass was empty another magically appeared by his arm, courtesy of Rocky and Janet. He had tried to turn them down a few times, but they could be awfully persuasive when they wanted to be, and Steve couldn’t help hoping that the alcohol might clear up the last bit of the panic that was still rolling around in his head.

So with a warm fire in his belly and a brain that was finally for once quieting down, he happily listened as Janet and Rocky screamed the lyrics right alongside Eddie and the rest. He couldn’t really understand, per say, but the energy was all that mattered.

And then, halfway into their set, everything fell apart.

“Alright, everyone,” Eddie said as they caught their breath from an original that left everyone slapping their tables and stomping their feet, “It’s time to settle a bet.”

He turned to face Steve dead on, a gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with the low light of the bar.

“We have, let’s call him a…metal virgin, with us tonight,” Eddie drawled, letting the crowd hoot and holler as they pleased. There was less than two dozen people in the bar with them, and there was no way any of them besides Hellfire knew that Eddie was talking about Steve, but he still felt like every eye in the room had just turned to him.

“Earlier tonight the band and I were trying to figure out who would make him a convert. Black Sabbath, Quiet Riot, Metallica. I said Dio, because I think this song is right up his alley. So, this one’s for you,”

Steve’s heart began to race in a completely brand new way as Eddie began shredding down on his guitar, joined by Gareth with an impressively quick beat on the drums.

The song was good. It was fast-paced, lively, and Steve could actually follow along with the lyrics unlike some of the more intense songs from before. Eddie had hit it exactly. The song was just another example of Eddie knowing him even more than Steve expected him to.

It was so good in fact, that Steve almost didn’t notice the lights behind the bar begin to flicker.

Almost.

Steve’s hands began to shake as his eyes darted around, looking at all of the walls. The other lights were also flickering, but the walls were still straight and narrow. No bending. No monsters.

Not yet.

Or not here.

Steve’s heart dropped as reality slapped him square across the face. If the lights were flickering, but there was no sign of any monsters, then they were close, but not here. They could be anywhere, going after anyone.

Going after one of his people.

Steve stumbled off the stool, catching Janet and Rocky’s attention as he nearly toppled to the ground.

“Steve! Are you okay?!” Janet yelled above the noise.

No, he wasn’t okay. He was a stupid fool in fact. A complete idiot who had honestly let himself believe that the danger was gone when he knew it wasn’t.

“I- I need to-” Steve couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t make his breath even enough to find the words for what he needed.

He needed his bat. He needed his backpack. He needed to get in touch with Hopper. He needed to get out of here.

He needed to find his kids.

And then, just as Eddie hit one last screeching solo note on his guitar, everything went dark.

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

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Useless | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Mental illness can be a cruel bitch sometimes. Thankfully, Matt Murdock is patient and he always takes care of you, even when you try to shut him out.

Warnings: ANGST, emotional hurt/comfort, Mental Health Episode, allusions to self-harm and suicidal thoughts, post Season 3 (spoilers ahead), not proofread

A/n: to anyone following me, you already know why this is being posted. I wrote this while I was depressed. I hope it helps some of you. I won’t say any more because there’s no words to be said about this. It’s sad but there’s comfort in the end and some wisdom I’ve gathered. You’re welcome!

I’ve put whatever I have left to post into the queue. I’m going to bed now. I wanted to post this beforehand because I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished for the first time in a while. I’ll see you soon, but probably not tomorrow… like I said, baby steps. My profile’s been busy enough for today and me too, for that matter. Take care of yourselves and please, if you ever feel down, don’t hesitate to talk to someone!

He knocks three times. He has a key, so he doesn’t have to knock, but he does, and after that he even rings the doorbell, but you can’t bring yourself up to get off the cold bathroom floor.

“Sweetheart,” his gentle voice rings out. There’s a small thud, it sounds hollow and quieter than his insistent knocks just a moment ago. His forehead collides with the wood of the front door and the room falls silent. “I can hear your heartbeat, y’know, so I know you’re not dead, but it’s still distressing to not hear from you for days,” he says. “I’m gonna open the door now.”

He finds you in the bathtub, but there is no water and you’re still wearing your pajamas from two days ago. You’re dry, so you haven’t showered with your clothes on, and overall it seems as if you’re just using the bathtub as a makeshift bed rather than an attempt to cool yourself to death.

Matt sighs deeply. “You know how worried I was?”

Your mouth is dry, your head fuzzy and you can’t possibly speak with your throat this tight.

Control is a fragile concept. You might be in control of your life for one second, and then the next everything's falling apart. Your kind descends into a downward spiral and once you’re going down, breaking out seems like an impossible task to do.

It’s times like these where life feels like it’s just happening to you and you have to sit back and endure it. You physically can’t take the reins back, no matter how hard you try. You’re paralyzed. It’s your head that’s screaming for you to act, but all you can do is sit back and watch in horror as you drive yourself off the road.

“You’ve been shutting people out again, haven’t you?” He rhetorically asks. “Because when I asked your friends, they said they haven’t seen you in days either, they’ve just read your texts, and they were short and snappy and that’s not like you, baby. Or it is, but only when it’s getting bad again. I was afraid this might have happened, I just didn’t want to accept it until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I had to check up on you. Glad I followed my gut.” He says the last part under his breath, and the relief mixes with the worry in an expression that makes you want to throw up. It’s sickening how much he cares, and the world doesn’t deserve him the same way you feel like you don’t.

The truth passes right by you. All you can think about is what you keep telling yourself. You’re useless, worthless, a nuisance and everyone hates you, so you need to erase yourself from the narrative to make the world slow down and make everyone just shut up. Even now you want Matt to shut up because his voice is like the sound of a million needles dropping on the floor of a hollow room all at once.

The worst part is, you know you should feel guilty for caving in on yourself but you can’t feel anything but this nagging feeling of anger and frustration eating away at your heart. Even his voice makes your fists clench. At least the deafening quiet has kept your nerves from fading into nothing and triggering that toe-curling feeling of overstimulating that sits right at the top of your brain and makes every last muscle twitch in a way that causes anger to seep from your pores, he can smell it.

He can hear it in your heart and your breathing too, he knows you’re not okay, and he knows his constant questioning only makes the fire that is burning you alive worse. It’s been like this before and it will continue happening, he knows. He knows that and he accepts you with all of your flaws and all the problems you might have. He loves you, why should he leave you for something that’s not even your fault? You haven’t quite grasped the concept of his devotion for you yet, but he’s determined to prove it to you.

He kneels next to the bathtub, shedding his suit jacket along the way and placed his chin on his forearms as he leans forward. His glasses land on the floor and his smile is so lopsided, it makes you frown for a second. He’s trying his hardest to make you smile with the way his sightless brown eyes try to find yours, and his teeth glisten in the bathroom light as he grins at you.

“What is it this time?” He doesn’t question your behavior, he just wants to understand. He knows you better than anyone else, after all.

You let out a prolonged breath. Even his voice has you on edge, but you suppose it could be worse. He’s not as annoying as your own voice when you answer, “Life.”

You sound so drained, his features soften even more and he reaches out to brush the greasy hair out of your face. There is wine in your breath, his nose picks up on that instantly, and you desperately need a shower, but he doesn’t tell you that because he knows you already know that. He’d never judge you for it. He’s happy as long as you’re alive, the rest can be figured out at a later time.

“Are you drunk?” he asks.

“Lightly buzzed,” you say.

The alcohol was supposed to take the edge off, but it’s only made you more nervous.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

“No. I need the world to be fucking quiet, that’s what I need.”

You flinch at your own tone, but he doesn’t seem fazed at your snappy nature. You swear it’s not personal. You would have apologized a million times if you hadn’t been so tired, and he really doesn’t seem to mind. He simply nods, acknowledging your wish.

“Okay,” he says. “Can I take you to bed then, at least? Your back probably hurts. How long have you been here?”

Your eyes flutter closed. “This morning,” you tell him.

He sighs wearily. “Of course, you have. Can I take you to bed, sweetheart, please? I’ll make sure you’re properly compressed so you won’t get triggered by new sensations, I promise, just… let me do this for you. The bathtub is no place to cry, you’ve told me that.”

You did, once.

And you couldn’t possibly protest, even if you tried. Your back does hurt and you’re more tired than usual. You haven’t required this much sleep in a while, but your mind and body are both exhausted and you feel as if you’re going to faint if you keep staring at the white bathroom tiles. Matt’s presence has knocked some sense back into you, bringing reality to the forefront, but the alcohol and shed tears keep your mind fuzzy to the point you’re not sure if you can feel your legs.

Matt senses your hesitation. Ever the caring boyfriend, he reaches his arms out to lift you out of the tub. “C’mon,” he says.

“Why aren’t you angry?” your voice cracks as you ask the dreaded question.

He has you up in his arms in an instant. “Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

His lips press to your temple, a silent answer as he carries you into your still-dark bedroom.

“Matt,” you try again, but he stops you.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says, wrapping your fragile body in blankets and mountains of pillows. “It’s okay to feel like shit sometimes, and if you need to shut people out to feel better, that’s okay too, just try telling them how you feel before you disappear or they might start thinking you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

He swallows hard at the emphasis. “I know, sweetheart, but it’s hard for the people who love you to differentiate.”

You pout, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “don’t say that. It’s not your fault. Here, scoot over.”

He takes off his shoes and the rest of his clothes until he’s left in his boxers. You do as you’re told and let him into bed with you.

“You want to cuddle or is that too much?” he asks.

Considering your skin feels hot and on fire while your flesh is freezing, your heart contracting in pure agony at even the thought of being touched, you shy away and shake your head, the tears finally starting to flow. He smells the salt in the air, mixing with the salt of your sweat.

You hide your face in the pillow. The sob that passes your lips sounds broken. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you admit. “Everything just… sucks.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I wish I could help you.” He doesn’t touch you. He respects your boundaries.

You shiver, curling further into the pillows. His warmth is there, but his hands aren’t. Still, it’s enough to make your body vibrate with the heaviest sob you’ve let out in a while. He wants nothing more than to hug you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits by your side and lets you cry it out in the company of someone who understands how you feel because he has them too, the bad episodes, the times he just wants to shut everyone out and sleep in his bathtub. It’s because of that he isn’t angry or upset with you for doing what your mind thought to be right at the moment. He understands better than anyone else ever could, and it somehow makes the tears flow even faster and harder to the point you can’t help it anymore. You ignore the smoldering fire in your chest and curl around his arm; it’s all you can do without breaking apart, but you need him while not needing him, and a touch you can control is better than something forced on you. His pulse drums against your fingers resting around his wrist and it manages to calm your own in the process.

“I want a different brain,” you eventually choke out. “It’s not fair God gave me the messed up one. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be me. I just want to be someone else, just for today.”

The human psyche is treacherous and easily turns your entire mindset against you.

He sighs, reaching up to pat your hair. “I’m sorry,” it’s all he knows how to say. He’s sorry that you feel this way, that you feel guilty for being you, and that there is nothing he can say or do that would make the monster shut up.

His presence has to somehow suffice, telling you you’re not alone anymore and that you’re not the failure you make yourself out to be. He helps you heal while at the same time, he makes you better. You hate him for being so kind, for making you love him so deeply you can’t possibly hate him. It’s confusing, all of this, your heart and your feelings, but most importantly your thoughts.

The tears die down eventually, your tear ducts empty and your mind and body tired from screaming at each other. Your hold has tightened around his arm, your eyes squeezed shut and the occasional sobs are all that are left from the unplanned breakdown.

Matt still has his hand in your hair, brushing through it until your heartbeat has slowed and you can breathe again.

You feel obligated to apologize. “I’m sorry,” you say. Of course, he shuts you down.

“It’s not your fault,” he reminds you. “And I’m always going to be here to tell you that. I love you, sweetheart, and you’re worthy of my love. You’re worthy of all of my love. It’s okay to be depressed, it’s okay to take what you need and it’s more than okay to take a break.”

“Then why do I feel so useless? It’s been like this for a year now and I can’t… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Everyone reaches their breaking point eventually. I did, back when I was still living in the church basement. But I crawled my way back out of hell. You know how long it took me, so why put yourself down for taking your time now?”

He makes a valid point, which is infuriating. You whimper. “I hate that I love you so much.”

He chuckles. “Right now you do, tomorrow you won’t.”

“I know.” Your voice cracks again. “God, I’m so sorry. My head’s a mess.”

He leans over to kiss your hair again. “Well, thank God I’m here now to take care of you,” he says. “Tomorrow, I’ll clean up your apartment and make sure you eat something. You don’t have to shower if you don’t feel ready, but it might help. But we’ll see that tomorrow, okay? For now, I want you to rest. I’m right here if you need me.”

The sleep catches up with you shortly after he’s done talking, his hand scratching your scalp while he whispers Sweet nothings into the night, distracting you from the hellish thoughts your mind has conjured up for you. It’s just you and him, his voice a lullaby that you’ve grown accustomed to, and with Matt by your side, you finally fight your way into a dreamless sleep.

He’s your solace, your lifeline, your lifesaver, and he’s always there, even when you don’t ask him to. He’s the comfort you need, your common sense and the sun that lights up your darkest days. Without him, you’re sure you would have been lost, swallowed by the tide of severe mental illness and the cruelty that is life itself.

You love him and he loves you, the perfect pair, both damaged but so good to each other, the bad matters a little less when you’re together.

#matt murdock #tw: depressive episode #matt murdock x reader #gender neutral reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #mental illness #reader insert #matt murdock angst #hurt/comfort #matt murdock fluff #it’s queue bitches

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pupboy-tckles · 8 months ago

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Wallace Wells Tickle Headcanons <3

(Sfw interaction only. Not written for kink.)

-Wallace is strictly a ler. He personally cannot handle being tickled, as it registers as pain for him. He does not like any aspect of being tickled, himself, even outside of that. The lack of control, the vulnerability of it, it’s not his favorite. On the other hand, he enjoys every aspect of tickling another person.

-As a man of physical touch, of course it would be something he enjoys. Running his hands all over his lee to find their sensitive spots. The ability to give his lees an utter dopamine rush, and give them the giggles they deserve. Getting to relentlessly tease them and watch as they cover their cute faces. Letting his lees not think for a while. It’s right up his alley in every way.

-Try to tickle him and you will live to regret it. (Dhar Mann style)

He will pin you to the nearest surface and attack the most sensitive parts of your body, with whatever he has on hand. That might just be his hands, that might be utilizing the vibration of the thousand texts he gets from Stacey. He will not stop until you seriously tell him to, or you are crying. He will make you beg for a break. It’s one of the few times you can successfully bother him into tickles, he’s very serious about his no tickle rule.

-He’s not very easy to annoy, in that way. In his eyes, if you’re a brat about it, he’s not going to give you what you want. Simple as that. The only exceptions are the aforementioned attempt to tickle him, and the good old stealing the TV remote. “Give me the remote!” trope is basically tailored to him, if his lee takes something from him to tease him into tickling them, best believe they will get it. Tasering their sides or under arms to get them to drop it or hand it back, he doesn’t hesitate. Especially if it’s actually the literal TV remote.

-Most times he will make you flat out ask. He’s the type to intentionally ignore subtle hints that you want tickles. Any attempt to flash vulnerable spots, or put yourself within arms reach, will not be acknowledged. You might get a “you want something?” but he still expects you to actually ask first. He only accepts “tword” sometimes, every other time he would love if you could spit the word out. It’s his favorite form of teasing, making his lee be as straight forward as possible. Same goes if he asks, which sometimes if he’s in a good enough ler mood, he will. He needs a verbal or otherwise direct yes or no.

-King of teasing, of course he is. He’s so cocky about it. His requirement of direct communication is just the start. If you’re out with friends he won’t hesitate to poke your sides, or strategically say words that sound like “tickle” just to startle you. He thinks it’s cute how fast your eyes dart over to him the moment you think you hear it. Messaging you late at night talking about new ideas he has for sessions, attempting to put you in a lee mood when he’s nowhere near you. He’ll also 100% tease you for your interest in the subject in the first place. He won’t ever get mean about it but, you know him, he’s gonna make fun of anyone in any way he can. Even if it is a tad hypocritical considering it’s also something he enjoys.

-His verbal teases can kill. He knows how to make someone get in the deepest of lee moods just from yapping.

“Wait does that tickle? I had no idea!” In the most sarcastic voice.

“it can’t be that bad, this isn’t even one of your sensitive spots!” While actively attacking death spots.

“Cmon, bud, don’t cry! You can take it.” While you’re crying from laughter.

A master of knowing just what to say to make you feel warm and fuzzy. Maybe making your brain warm and fuzzy.

-Uses a lot of soft touches, and utilizes his fingernails whenever he can. His nails aren’t exactly manicured and pretty, but they’re long enough to make an impact. Running his nails down your back, barely even making contact. Going down your spine one vertebrae at a time. Ghosting your sides and stomach to see you twitch. Lightly running his thumb across the back of your hand. He mostly believes that less is more.

-He can wreck you though. He will wreck you, if that’s what you want. If your goal is to wipe your brain and replace your thoughts with nothing but laughter and the feeling of hands, he will absolutely provide. He would adore to. He can be absolutely relentless about it, not stopping to even breathe until you’re crying. He has so much stamina and energy, you will likely tap out before him. If you think otherwise, feel free to challenge him, but you may regret it.

-He loves the reactions of it all. It’s easily his favorite part, looking at his lee’s face and seeing how their nose scrunches up when he finds certain spots, or how their breathing stops with silent laughter when he grazes others. Finding their cheeks warm and hearing the left over giggles when he goes hands off for a moment. He absolutely adores being able to immediately see the results of his actions, he pays such attention to all the body language of his lee.

-Fond of wake up tickles. He’s always having to wake up Scott at ungodly hours of the day, sometimes he just takes advantage of the weird positions he sleeps in. He absolutely will dig his nails into Scott’s under arms and ribs just because it annoys him to be awoken so suddenly. That’s why he likes them, mostly, because of how startled and annoyed the lee gets. Their little groans of protest at his cold hands, he thinks it’s cute.

-Also a big fan of utilizing tools. Soft stuff, especially. Feathers of any kind, brushes and dusters. He loves using them, especially when his lee least expects it. He tries a lot of different fabrics, as well. He may wear gloves of all kinds, but he also keeps variety on the long sleeves that may brush against his lee while he’s doing his thing.

-So good at aftercare. He’s good at tiring someone out, so he’s gotta be good at taking care of them afterwards. He will always make you food, or put a movie you like on, or just sit there and cuddle if that’s what makes you feel best. His only requirement is water, he makes sure the both of you drink water. It can be a strenuous activity. It’s exercise. You have to be hydrated. He knows that a session can be mentally draining as well. Having so many good chemicals and then having it randomly stop can be tough. He’s always watching out.

#fic #writing #mine #sfw tickle #sfw tickling community #sfw ler #sfw lee #tickle headcanons #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #ler wallace #ler!wallace #lee pup

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talonslockau · 1 year ago

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Fire and Ice - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 || Index || Chapter 5

Graypaw hadn’t hesitated in bounding off across the clearing, leaving Firepaw to hurriedly follow. The marks Dustleap’s claws had left on his pelt were beginning to sting, but the exhilaration of being a true Thunderclan apprentice helped dull the pain. The first place that his tour guide stopped was at the entrance to camp, where Firepaw had first witnessed the large clearing.

“This is the entrance to our camp. It’s cleverly concealed, so that only a true Thunderclanner knows how to get in.” Graypaw announced, waving a paw over his chest self-importantly, clearly delighting in his role as guide already.

Firepaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement at his friend’s demeanor. His friend, he realized with a grin to himself. “I know that, Graypaw. How do you think I got in?” He asked with a roll of his eyes, turning back to survey the camp. Already, even though such little time had passed, he was already beginning to think of this place as home.

“Oh. Right.” Graypaw looked subdued for a moment, and he had to feel a little bad for deflating his tour guide’s bubble. But it was only a few heartbeats before his friend had brightened up again. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to have a refresher, right? Wouldn’t want you forgetting with everything that’s happened!”

Firepaw couldn’t find a reason to argue with that, and so he nodded agreeably. “I suppose that’s true. If you’re showing me stuff I already know, then, why don’t you introduce yourself? Or tell me about Highrock?” He had intended that to be teasing, but privately, he realized that he didn’t know much about his new friend; or about the sacred rock Bluestar had stood on.

The fuzzy gray tom chuffed in amusement. “You can’t introduce yourself to someone who already knows you!” He tilted his head for a moment in thought. “At least, I don’t think you can.” He shrugged, clearly not bothering to think too deeply on it, but instead turning his gaze to the giant rock that loomed over camp. “Highrock is where the Clan leader makes their announcements from, as you saw. See that hole at the base, there? Covered in lichen? That’s the leader’s den. Not that you’ll get to see the inside of it for a long while, yet!”

Firepaw stared at the darkened den, all but hidden by strands of moss. “Do you think I’ll ever get to?” He asked quietly, trying to imagine what lay within.

“Oh, sure. Every cat gets called inside Bluestar’s den, at some point. You just gotta hope you’re not in trouble when you do!” Graypaw shuddered at the thought, before winking back at the new apprentice. “But if you don’t get in trouble, you’ll be fine!”

Easier said than done, he supposed. Though everyone seemed to be alright with him now, he had to imagine it wouldn’t take much to get tempers rising once again. “Alright, then, what’s next?” He asked, trying to move his mind to brighter things.

The dark gray tom nodded to the space between the Highrock and the bramble entrance, which was covered by a fallen tree, its' far branches stretching up towards the edge of the ravine. “Underneath that tree is the elders' den. It’s usually the driest spot in camp, not that you’d think it listening to how they complain!” He caught himself quickly as a graying brown tabby tom laying near the entrance spared a glance at him. “But they deserve it, for serving the Clan faithfully for many, many moons! It’s their right to complain as much, or as little, as they want.” The older tom harrumphed at that, looking to a small white tom next to him and muttering something Firepaw couldn’t hear.

“I assume there aren’t many elders.” Firepaw noted, remembering how hard Bluestar and Lionheart had said that Clan life was.

“Only four, at the moment. Halftail - that’s the brown tabby, there - Smallear, One-eye and Rosetail. You’ll meet all of them, in time. One of the duties of apprentices is to attend to the every need of the elders, including changing their bedding and getting rid of their fleas and ticks.” Firepaw nodded thoughtfully as he watched the two elderly toms conversing. “And trust me, you don’t want to get assigned to elder duty.” Graypaw hissed in his ear - the most discrete the young tom could get, he supposed.

Firepaw shrugged in response. “I’ll do anything to become a real Clan warrior, even if it means changing a hundred thousand beddings.” The brown tabby tom flicked an ear towards him, but didn’t turn to look. “Besides, I’m sure they could teach me a few things.”

“In that case, you can take elder duty for me!” Graypaw suggested eagerly, laughing as the ginger tom gave him a good-natured shove. “Lionheart’s been telling me that there’s wisdom in the elders’ words, but personally, I can’t say I hear anything besides complaining. If you do, well, more power to you.”

He supposed that, given his new friend had been born and raised in Thunderclan, he would be used to such things; but Firepaw wanted to know all of it, even the boring parts. Still, he didn’t say that out loud, lest Halftail hear him. “So that’s the elders' den, and leader’s den. What next?” The new apprentice asked his guide, taking in the camp to see if he could spot the next den.

“The most important part of camp!” His eyes widened at that, and he made sure to give Graypaw his attention. “Right there, on the other side of the Highrock, can you see it?”

Firepaw’s eyes searched for the sign of a den entrance, but he couldn’t see anything close to the Highrock. “No, what?”

“The freshkill pile, duh!” The rusty tom had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at Graypaw’s excitement. Of course, he should have guessed. “My littermates and I made the biggest contribution of the morning, though of course it’s the duty of every warrior to catch prey for the Clan.” His forest-born friend gave the new apprentice a side glance. “You still haven’t tasted mouse, have you?”

His stomach rumbled at the thought. He still hadn’t eaten since last night, before he went into the forest. “No.” He admitted begrudgingly.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty to share today! If Cinderpaw hasn’t eaten all of it, yet.” Graypaw assured him with a friendly head bump.

“Cinderpaw?”

“My sister. Don’t worry, you’ll meet her in a bit.” The subtle groan in his voice made Firepaw curious what Cinderpaw was like, but for the moment, he didn’t dare question it. “Now, you see that crack in the rock next to the freshkill pile? That’s Spottedleaf’s den.”

As Graypaw pointed it out, a brown tabby slid out from the entrance and trotted towards the freshkill pile: Firepaw realized belatedly that it was Dustleap. “Who’s Spottedleaf? Why was Dustleap in there?” He hissed to the other apprentice, careful to avert his gaze before the ill-tempered tom could catch sight of them.

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t met Spottedleaf yet. She’s our healer, she takes care of our wounds and cures illnesses. You’ll love her when you meet her; everyone does.” Graypaw’s eyes seemed to look past the horizon, a small smile on his face. “You should go see her, get those scratches looked at.”

Firepaw dared a glance towards the freshkill pile, where Dustleap was still poking through with a paw. “I’m fine.” He lied, ignoring the sting of a particularly fierce cut on his shoulder.

“Suit yourself. Just don’t be surprised if Spottedleaf comes to find you later. She takes her duties very seriously.” Graypaw shook his head, his smile lingering for another moment before he grew serious again. “On the far side, there, where those thick brambles are? That’s the nursery entrance, where all the kits stay until they’re old enough to become apprentices.”

Firepaw stared into the wall of brambles at the far end of the ravine, but he didn’t see any movement. “Are there any kits right now?” He asked, considering what Bluestar had said about the nursery being near empty.

“Just one. Snowkit, Speckleflight and Dappleshine’s son. He was born only a moon ago, so he’s still too small to move around.” As he spoke, a pale golden queen stepped out of the nursery, quickly met by a white molly that touched noses with her before taking her place inside. “That white queen was Frostfur, and then that’s Speckleflight. The last queen is Goldenflower - she’s Frostfur’s mate. Together, they take care of all the kits in the nursery, whether they currently have any or not.”

Firepaw’s nose twitched in disgust as he watched her walk over to Dustleap and give him a motherly lick. “I see.” He said simply, trying not to let his dislike for the brown tabby cloud his judgement. “So are they the mothers of everyone in the Clan? Which one’s your mom?”

“More or less, unless they’re old or weren’t born in the Clan. My mom’s Willowbranch, though. She’s returned to being a warrior, now that we’re apprentices.” Graypaw gestured to a shady corner near the entrance, where a black-striped tom was sharing a rabbit with a silvery molly and a skinny pale tabby tom. “That’s her, along with Quickflash, my dad, and my uncle Longtail, with the dark stripes. I’d introduce you, but they seem a bit busy. You’ll get to know everyone anyway, in time.”

He was grateful for that. So many cats and so many names, he was worried he would mix them up and make a fool of himself. “I hope they’re as kind as you.” He said aloud softly, glancing anxiously to his new friend.

“I’m sure Mom will. If anything, I’m the one that’s got to be worried! She’s always told me she’s wanted a different son…” At Firepaw’s shock, the gray tom laughed. “Of course, that was only when I was getting into trouble. We get along fine now that I’m not always under her paws!” He grinned to himself, surely remembering past chaos he’d caused. “As for Quickflash, well, as long as you’re a good apprentice, he’ll like you fine. The only thing he doesn’t like is a lazy cat!”

For a moment, that only caused the new apprentice more anxiety, until he remembered old Henry. If he wasn’t that lazy, he figured, he’d probably be fine, right? “Speaking of lazy, where do the warriors sleep? And where do we sleep, for that matter?” He could certainly use a nap after all the running he’d done - a nap, and some food.

“Ha! Well, the warriors sleep in that grove of bushes, next to the nursery. I’ve never been inside myself, but I hear it’s even bigger under there than it looks!” Firepaw eyed the giant cluster of leaves and branches that easily seemed big enough for a hundred Lionhearts. It was hard to imagine it being even bigger on the inside. “As for us apprentices, we sleep in that pile of ferns, next to the tree stump. It might look small, but there’s quite the hollow under there.”

He had to wonder at that, given how small the pile of ferns seemed. He could make out an entrance underneath them, but they seemed barely large enough to fit Lionheart and Whitestorm together - then again, given that apprentices were generally a bit smaller than full grown warriors, perhaps that was the point.

“Is one of those gray cats next to the apprentice den your sister?” He asked, noticing three differently colored gray mollies next to the tree stump; one that was mottled with all shades of gray, another that was a bright silver, and a third that was the same color as Graypaw. Privately, he assumed it must be the latter of them, though he didn’t want to make a guess and offend his new friend.

“All three of them are.” He could hear the grimace in Graypaw’s reply, though he didn’t look at his fellow apprentice. “Come on, they’ll kill me if I don’t introduce you. Just don’t let them eat you alive, alright?”

With that ominous warning, his guide stalked across the camp, tail low. Firepaw steeled himself before following, trying not to let any fear come across.

“Finally, he introduces himself! Were you just planning on hogging the new apprentice all day?” The dark gray molly was the first to speak, jumping up and all but racing the last few paces to meet them. She was bouncing back and forth on her paws as she eagerly extended her nose to sniff Firepaw, who didn’t try to stop her. “Hi, by the way! I’m Cinderpaw, Graypaw’s best sister! You put up a great fight, by the way, it’s about time that someone showed Dustleap he’s not all that!”

“Cinderpaw!” The spotted molly chided her sister, who didn’t seem to notice it at all. “Give him some space, you’re scaring him!” She rolled her eyes and grinned sympathetically at Firepaw. “Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Pepperpaw, and this is Dewpaw. You’ll have to forgive her if she doesn’t speak much, she’s always been a bit shy around new cats.”

“Am not…” The final sister spoke up now, if only at a murmur, from where she was crouched next to Pepperpaw. As soon as she met Firepaw’s gaze, however, she looked down to the ground, taking a quick bite out of her mouse as an excuse.

“You know it’s true, Dewpaw!” Cinderpaw piped up from beside Firepaw, giving him a thorough once-over. “Is it true you were raised a kittypet? Did you really only eat rabbit droppings? And do kittypets actually make dirt in a tiny box, or is that just something One-eye made up? Oh, how-”

“Cinderpaw, would you get off?” Graypaw snapped, batting at his sister as she moved ever closer. “So, yeah, these are my sisters. They’re all pawfuls… Cinderpaw, especially.” He added with a pointed hiss at his hyperactive sister, who was still hovering around them.

“Of course I am! It’s no fun laying around all the time like you do.” She stuck her tongue out at them, before hopping back to take a seat by Pepperpaw. “It’s nice we get to have a new face around here finally! I was so worried it was going to be all boring, with only these lumps for my whole apprenticeship.” She rolled her eyes and nudged Pepperpaw, who only rolled her eyes silently in response.

“Anyways, Firepaw, you still haven’t had mouse, right? Why don’t we share this one together, since my sisters have eaten everything else.” Graypaw nudged the tom beside him in a not-subtle hint, who eagerly nodded in response. It was nice meeting the other apprentices he would be sharing a den with, but Cinderpaw especially was a bit overwhelming in her excitement.

“Aww, are you sure you don’t want to-”

“Yes, definitely.” Graypaw cut his sister off before she could say anything else, picking up the last mouse and trotting it over near a patch of nettles. “We’lf shee you latersh.” He mumbled around the mouse to his sisters as he passed, Firepaw quickly following along.

“So it’s the five of us?” The new apprentice asked him quietly, keeping his ears down to ignore the chattering of Cinderpaw to her sisters. “That doesn’t seem so bad, though I guess I understand why you were excited to have another apprentice around.”

“Oh, it’s not just us. There’s Ravenpaw, too, but he’s out on a special mission right now with Redtail and Tigerclaw, the lucky duck!” Graypaw set the mouse down between them, nosing it a bit more towards Firepaw. “You can have the first bite, since it’s your first taste of real food! Just make sure to leave some for me.”

“Redtail? Tigerclaw?” Tigerclaw, he remembered, was someone Graypaw had mentioned last night. Glancing down at the mouse, his nose was filled with the scents of the wild, the sensation causing the fur on his back to rise a bit. His first real food! He bit gingerly into it, savoring the blood spilling from his fangs. It was juicy, tender, and every bit worth all that he’d overcome to get here.

“Redtail’s our deputy, which means he was chosen by Bluestar to succeed her as leader. He takes care of a lot of things around the Clan, like assigning patrols. Whatever mission he’s on, it’s bound to be important. I wish I could’ve gone!” He shook his head in envy. “How’s the mouse, by the way?”

“Delishoush.” Firepaw mumbled through his mouthful of mouse. “And Tigerclaw?” He asked before quickly taking another bite.

“Well, move over, let me have some, you big lump!” Graypaw purred, gently shoving against Firepaw. At the reminder of Tigerclaw, he blinked and nodded. “Oh yeah! Tigerclaw’s the biggest and strongest warrior of Thunderclan - bigger than Lionheart, even, and covered in scars! He and Redtail used to be mates, I hear, but they’ve been fighting for as long as I’ve been alive. Whatever mission they’re on, it must be important for them to set aside their differences.”

Firepaw gladly moved aside, chewing on both what Graypaw had said as well as the mouse. “What about-”

He never got to finish his question, as a loud yowl rang out across the clearing, causing all heads to turn towards the entrance. “Shmallear shmellsh trouble!” Graypaw cried, coughing a bit through the mouse he’d eaten.

He barely managed to finish his sentence before a black blur slammed through the entrance of camp. As it halted close to the Highrock, he was able to see it was a cat; about the same size as Tinyfrost in height, but longer and skinnier. The only color he could see was from the cat’s wide, panicked green eyes; the rest of it was as dark as a moonless night from head to toe. Except, he realized, for the currently bushed tail tip, which was a small puff of white.

“That’s Ravenpaw! But what’s he doing back alone? Where’s Redtail and Tigerclaw?” Graypaw was already making his way across the clearing, as were many of the other cats, and Firepaw had no choice but to follow.

As he got closer, he could see that Ravenpaw was in rough shape. His right foreleg was thick with blood from a deep cut near his shoulder, and his coat was heavily ruffled, as though he’d been dragged by his tail backwards through the bramble tunnel. From how heavily the skinny tom was panting, it was clear he’d run a long, long distance to get back to camp.

“Ravenpaw? What has happened?” Bluestar stepped forward from the assembled cats. Though her words were calm, the tip of her tail flicked anxiously, and he could see the heavy clouds of fear in her eyes.

Ravenpaw’s sides were heaving, and it was clear he was getting dizzy, as he tilted back and forth as though the world was rocking beneath him. For several tense moments, the camp was silent, all eyes on the black tom as he struggled to catch his breath. Just as blood was beginning to pool beneath his paws, he finally managed to struggle out a single sentence.

“Redtail is dead!”

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