#cw: heatstroke

[coffeeghoulie]

Eternal Heatstroke

chapter 3: struggling to exist with you (and without you)

Tensions come to a boiling point.

Contains long discussions of child abuse and neglect, nightmares, and mild blood and injury.

(this chapter has one of the two scenes i wrote this entire fic around. please enjoy.)

Running, always running, until their legs give out from under them and they tumble into the brimstone, the howls of angry, starving ghouls descending on them. The portal is always just out of reach, always flickering out. They never make it through.

Aeon wakes from every nightmare exhausted, bruises under their eyes, lips and tongue and tail bitten bloody as they hold in their cries. They pull together the broken pieces of themself before they have to face the pack, Papa, the roaring of the crowds just about every night.

They collapse into their bunk, or onto a too soft hotel mattress, and pass out just to do it again.

Read the rest on ao3, or start from the beginning.

[oncemorewithwhump]

Reid gets a little too hot while working a case.

Rating: T

For the @whumperless-whump-event

Prompt: Summer is a Curse

heatstroke / panting

[terrorfullcatomizer]

Warmup sketch :) She forgo sunscreen

[ireallyamabear]

i'm serious, i can handle that it might be some kind of cancer or maybe a bad traffic accident on my bike that will get me, but the inevitable statistical bulldozer of untimely heat death around maybe 2040 when the temperature curve will have lapped my body's ability to adapt due to aging is genuinely terrifying

[trkstrnd]

me reading a fic where a character has heatstroke and a temp of 104: no u can go higher than that.

[alpinelogy]

.

[malereadermaniac]

Innocent ~ Natsumi x Male Reader

The tall, handsome man has surprisingly little experience, he's too innocent to understand why he's so drawn to you Top!Natsumi x Bottom!Reader word count: 2.7k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI Cw: blowjob (giving), Fingering (receiving), Heat = sweat kink, body worship (recieving), Praise (recieving), feet, scent kink

The sun had been scorching all campers since it dawned this morning, most campers having to pour water on their heads or go shirtless the whole day to avoid heatstroke. Your activity for the day was simple, bake! You and Hiro were really the only two competent men in your cabin when it came to baking, so you two decided on a recipe and gave out a task to everyone; the recipe? Apple pie. The task wasn't simply to just bake, it was to find ingredients and make everything from scratch, and both you and Hiro knew that there were apple trees in the forest behind you cabin. And so, that's how you ended up with Natsumi all alone, tasked with bringing back a few apples back to your cabin - two people necessary due to the height of the trees.

Chatting on your hunt for apples was enjoyable, Natsumi was definitely your favourite cabin-mate, organised and not too shabby looking, but his personality and kind-hearted personality is what made you enjoy his presence. The tall man also loved spending time with you, he was friendly with everyone by nature but when it came to you, Natsumi just felt as if you he needed you to be a close friend; not just someone he politely waved or smile to from time to time. But your friendliness with each other did seem to walk on the line between romantic and platonic feelings...

Take for example the fact that on your walk towards the apple trees, you have had to force your eyes away from Natsumi's slim-fit build at least 5 times already; his quite large muscles on his arms and his heard abs sweating and shining from the searing sun, it made your heart skip multiple beats. But whilst you faced your small feelings for the handsome swimmer, he did not. Not because he didn't like you or want to! But rather, Natsumi as a person isn't that great with romantic or sexual feelings... Which has not only led to the poor man questioning his seemingly random affinity for you, but also popping quite a few boners around you.

Speaking of which (the boners and the feelings that is) was occurring right this very second. Once you two had found some trees with actual apples on them you had to figure out how to reach them.

"Wanna get on my shoulders or should I get on yours?" You ask, a s mile on your had as you tilt your head in a questioning manner

"U-Uhm.. You can get on my... my shoulders!" Natsumi stutters out, unusual for his well-spoken self, a blush also adorning his face - but he just put that down to the heat.

You chuckle at the handsome man's response. You weren't a narcissist or anything, but you knew that you were definitely above average in terms of looks - so you were used to guys being a little nervous around you, you found it cute. You also understood why Natsumi was continuing to stutter when you had made it onto his broad shoulders, your plump and boiling, sweaty thighs enveloping Natsumi's tan face. The feeling of you on him, around him, along with the feeling of your crotch rubbing against his head as you reached back and forth for the apple easily resulted in a lot of blood rushing south of the innocent man - Natsumi blushing profusely at the situation and at the embarrassment of popping a boner in this moment. After getting down off of the muscular man, you noticed it (the massive tent in his shorts that is), but you didn't mention it - Natsumi's face already beat red and the handsome man avoiding looking into your eyes, you felt it was a little unnecessary to call it out. That doesn't mean that you didn't take a note of it, though, or that the fact that your camp crush clearly had some sort of feelings for you.

After gathering a couple of apples and making your way back to the camp, you watched as Natsumi headed straight to his bed and 'smoothly' (very not smoothly) use a pillow to hide his little (big) problem. None of the others noticed though, so you all continued on with baking; a soft blush on your face when you noticed the navy haired man staring at you the entire length of the task. With the pie baked, the others left to hand it in, leaving you all alone in the cabin with a still very embarrassed Natsumi. With the temperature still incredibly high, the two of you were half-naked, skin shiny from the beads of sweat on your bodies - you couldn't help but throw a few glances Natsumi's way, his rock-hard abs glimmering so sexily, along with his pecs and obvious V-line. Natsumi on the other hand literally could not take his eyes off of you...

The way that your sweat shined so beautifully on your (s/t) skin, beads of sweat running along your abdomen as you sexily stretch out on your bed - fuck man... Natsumi's problem had hardened ten fold! When you catch his eyes with yours, you flash him a warm smile, chuckling at the soft pink hue on his usually tan face. "ya know... you don't have to be embarrassed about it" You say, lifting your upper body off of your bed in an upward dog pose; your nipples out for Natsumi to ogle at, along with your sexy arms and brief showing of your abdomen "A-About what?" The flustered man responds, his sharp jawline being shown off as Natsumi turns his head away from you, unable to comprehend why he felt his stomach do backflips whenever he looks at you "Your little... hah... big friend~ It's perfectly natural" You say with a smile, pointing at his poorly hidden boner in Natsumi's khaki shorts The man short circuits at your words. Not only did you just outright mention it, but did you just compliment him?? Now, Natsumi isn't experienced at all, he doesn't understand shit like this or whether or not having a big dick was good or bad... But the tone you used? The comforting smile on your face? Your personality and words could make this man cum alone!

A silence fills the warm cabin, not an awkward silence, but a silence no doubt. That is until your soft voice breaks the thick, sexual tension once more "Want me to help you out?" You ask, working up the courage to make the first move on mr. perfect "How would you do that, (Y/n)?" Natsumi retorts after a moment of pondering, his eyes glued to yours You chuckle back at Natsumi and stand up from your bed, making your way over to the muscular swimmer. Receiving a quick nod from the sheepish man after mumbling 'lemme take the lead...', you go ahead and hold yourself above your shirtless camp-mate; trapping the inexperienced man below you, watching as Natsumi's eyes wander your shirtless body, down to your crotch and back up to your soft face. 'can I kiss you?' you say with a smile, to which Natsumi replies 'O-Of course', his eyes glued onto your soft looking lips. With that, you lowered your face to the sharp-featured one below you, you soft lips pushing against Natsumi's as you took control. It didn't take long for the innocent man to be whimpering into your moan, a few moans escaping his lips from your knee rubbing against his hard dick. Although you didn't want to rush the soft moment, Natsumi was becoming more desperate by the moment, which led to his tongue dancing in a tango with yours as the handsome virgin below you moaned and groaned into your mouth. Your hands roamed the tan man's muscular body as you made-out with him, your thumbs playing with his perky nipples, your palm running along his strong abs and hips as your other held you up above him.

Eventually, you pulled away. Panting above Natsumi, you watched as the man desperately tried to reach your addictive lips once more, his hips humping so sexily against your knee - who knew it would be so hot to hold the reigns once in a while! To soothe the horny man below you, you began trailing down his hot, sweaty body with soft kisses; worshiping his tanned, muscular, slim, masculine body with soft praises and kisses. You made yourself comfortable between Natsumi's legs, resting your head cutely against his muscular thigh, hand running up and down his leg, ever so close to his twitching, clothed cock. Teasing Natsumi resulted in sexy whines accidentally erupting from the man's throat, his eyes glued onto you, pleading with you to do more as you rub your nose gently against his covered hard-on - his briefs absolutely drenched in his sweat and musky scent. But you weren't that mean, so you gave in to Natsumi's needs and pulled down his tight underwear, revealing his fucking massive cock. To say it shocked you would be an understatement. You were surprised that the man was a virgin with a weapon like this between his legs, but whatever, you didn't like to share.

The air in the room had gotten even hotter, aided by Natsumi's heavy, hot pants as he moaned like never before. Natsumi had never even really masturbated before, so a blowjob actually rocked his world! Your eyes were glued to Natsumi's flushed complexion and sweaty body as you sloppily sucked his veiny cock; the man too big to easily deepthroat, so you decided on sloppily licking at and sucking on his cute pink tip and veiny, and jacking off whatever your mouth struggled to reach. Natsumi's moans alone could make you cum, the man sounding so sexy as he moaned incoherent words along with your name so incredibly loud, with such evident pleasure dripping off of his voice. Natsumi's words were also incredible, praises falling off of his tongue would feed your ego and your dick so, so much - constant praises of your beauty/looks, your skill, and how good you were making him feel; it was all so fucking hot! But it wasn't just his moans and praises, Natsumi's body was contorting in pleasure, his hands in your hair tightly pulling you onto his dick as his knees were raised, his feet on either side of your head as his thighs encapsulated your head. Fuck man, sucking off Natsumi was more pleasurable than being fucked by some of your past flings! It didn't take long for Natsumi to cum, he had been holding back so well, but one look at your panting face, your tongue out so sexily with spit and precum rolling down your chin was enough to send Natsumi way over the edge. Tightening his masculine fingers in your hair, Natsumi groaned a deep "(Y/n)" and pulled you with all of his might onto his dick, forcing your face to smash against his pelvis, his pubes stuffing your nose and his massive cock going fully down your throat. You chocked on the massive man's cock, doing your best to relax your throat to be able to breath as Natsumi shot what felt like gallons of his thick, hot cum down your throat; the white substance shooting directly down your throat, pooling within your mouth and even spilling down your chin - this man was pent the fuck UP.

After coming down from his high, the navy-haired man looked down at you, seeing the fucking damage he'd done, and finally pulled his 8 inch monster out of your mouth. Hundreds of apologies flooded out of Natsumi as he grabbed some tissues from his bedside and tried to clean you up; but he couldn't deny that watching his cum drool out of your mouth and down your chin, your teary eyes looking at him with a soft smile on your face as you panted like a horny fucker, holy shit did it turn Natsumi on even more. But slowly, Natsumi's 'sorry's transitioned into 'Thank you's, his voice a little more confident as the handsome man looks down at you, a lazy smile on his face as he basks in the afterglow. After cleaning up, you chat with Natsumi, the post-nut clarity kinda hitting the sharp-featured man as he talks to you about why he was really a virgin; you two talked for a while, about his brother, how gay sex actually works n shit, everything really. That's why, when you went to stand up, Natsumi grabbed your wrist - his sweaty palm nice and warm as his masculine, big, veiny hand wrapped around your wrist. "huh? you want more or something, handsome?" you tease, a quizzical look on your face as your eyes look into Natsumi's "Uhh.... I wanna make you feel good too" The sexy swimmer says, looking up at you with doe-eyes, innocent, attractive eyes. Fuck... how could you not fold?

And that's how you ended up in your next position, with your legs up on Natsumi's broad shoulders and your shorts slid off on one of your legs. The sun had began to set, the golden-hour lighting making you look fucking incredible below Natsumi as his long, masculine fingers made you moan his name like a chant. The inexperienced man couldn't take his eyes off of you, sure he'd seen some porn here and there, but holy shit you looked ethereal; with the sunset's gleam making your sweaty body shine, your eyes rolling back and your sexy panting, you just turned Natsumi on so much! Your praises of his fingers and skill egged the tanned male on, applying what he'd learned in a crash-course in fingering you'd given him. Natsumi instantly found your prostate from how long his fingers were, the man curling his two fingers into your pleasure spot and making you see stars; his eyes couldn't stop darting across your whole body, admiring your flushed face, your sweaty body, your twitching, precum leaking dick, your tight hole around his digits, and Natsumi didn't expect to enjoy the way that your sweaty feet curled in pleasure from his attacks on your prostate. The handsome man did his best to pleasure your whole body, not just your tight walls, kissing your nipples and chest in doing so, marking and biting your thighs and legs and kissing your feet - because, yes, the man is so tall that by the time your legs reach his shoulders, only your feet make it onto them. Natsumi was practically worshiping your body as he made you feel so incredibly good, praising your body and your tightness and warmth as he kissed your hot skin, his dick fully hard again just from the way your hips twitched and buckled, lifted off of the bed towards him with every rub of his fingertips against your p-spot.

Finally, after more kisses with a lot of tongue from Natsumi and more magic work from the man's incredible fingers, you were pushed way past the edge. You moaned Natsumi's name as you gripped at the sheet below you and at whatever skin of his you could reach, your legs twitching in rhythm with your cock as you covered your stomach with your cum; the sight made Natsumi blush, so erotic yet so adorable to him - the man was falling in love. Your panting and soft moans filled the room and the navy-haired man's ears, the air was still as hot as ever and your bodies were sweatier than before, but you both could give less of a shit; the two of you stuck looking into each other's eyes as you panted and smiled, fuck you were both falling head over heels! But after Natsumi breaks a very sloppy and passionate kiss with you to fumble iwth his belt in order to pull out his now re-hardened 8-incher, the attention of the two of you was redirected to the slam of the cabin door; behind which was a very happy looking Hiro, whose face dropped when he saw what filthy activites were occuring in the shared cabin. For God's sake! Now the whole cabin knows you and Natsumi fucked!

Oh well~

You could deal with an angry Hiro and Yoichi for an hour or two if it meant you and Natsumi were now basically seen as a couple by your cabin-mates - and you're sure Natsumi didn't mind either from the way he chuckled as he looked at you with a hand scratching his head.

[littlest-w01f]

Cold

"Temprature play" with:

Zayne x Reader

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: After you fall sick with a heatstroke, Zayne takes on the responsibility of taking care of you

Cw:

You curled up on the couch, your body wracked with heat. Zayne knelt beside you on the bed, concern etched on his face as he gently brushed sweat-dampened strands of hair from your forehead. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your cheek before cupping your flushed skin. "I'm here, sweetheart. Let me help you undress." He murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "We need to get you comfortable and chilled."

With tender care, Zayne slipped off your shoes, you helped him the best you could, then peeled away your clothes until you lay bare beneath the thin blanket. His gaze roamed over your curves, drinking in the sight of your skin and watching the goosebumps on your body formed by the cool air. After he pulled at the sweats you were wearing, his hands skimmed down your sides, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. "I've got you, y/n."

Zayne's hands continued their soothing exploration as he set you in his bed, his hands getting colder from his Evol to counter the heat from yours. He gently kissed your temple, his cold lips lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, brushing across your cheekbone.

"Some cold lemonade should help you feel better," He hummed, "And you need some electrolytes in you."

"Zayne...?" You mewl softly, head aching a little, "Just stay for a moment..."

"Then let's try to cool you down, Hmm?" He whispered, slipping a hand beneath the blanket to press against your sides. His hand is like ice against your burning flesh, providing instant relief. His other hand found its way to your stomach, lightly circling around your belly.

His kisses trailed further, exploring the sensitive hollow of your throat while his thumb reached up to trace the underside of your breast, teasing at the edge of your nipple. The sensation sent sparks through your veins, momentarily distracting you from the heat.

"Mmm…" A soft moan escaped your lips as Zayne's thumb teased along your breasts, his touch both cooling and arousing against your feverish skin. His mouth continued its path of hot kisses down your neck, teeth grazing ever so slightly against your pulse point. One hand remained splayed across your stomach, pressing firmly as if to anchor you, while the other slid fully around to cup the weight of your breast. His thumb and forefinger rolled and pinched you, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," Zayne murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky with desire. "Let me take care of you."

With the temperature dropping from his Evol, your body began to relax further under Zayne's attentive ministrations. The cool air caressed your damp skin, making goosebumps rise in its wake. Your breathing slowed, and the pounding in your head receded as the chill seeped into your muscles, easing the tension.

Zayne's skilled fingers continued their exploration, gliding down your torso to dip into your navel before resuming their path southward. He traced the curve of your hip, his palm skating over the swell of your ass before delving between your thighs. His hand was a haven of icy calm amidst the simmering heat of your core. "Mmm, you're so responsive," Zayne purred, his voice tinged with admiration and lust. "Your body craves my touch."

The coolness of Zayne's hand against your heated flesh felt divine, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His fingers danced along your slick folds, teasing at your entrance before slipping inside. The contrast of his cold fingers against your wet warmth made your back arch off the bed, a silent plea for more.

"Mmm… Zayne," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. Every movement he made only intensified the throbbing ache between your legs. His touch was both soothing and sinful, and you found yourself craving more of this strange yet exquisite sensation.

"You're so wet, sweetheart," Zayne groaned, adding another finger to stretch and fill you even more. His thumb circled your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shocks of pleasure radiating outward from your core.

As Zayne's fingers worked within you, his thumb relentlessly coaxing circles around your clit, you could do nothing but squirm beneath him. Each thrust of his fingers, each circle of his thumb, brought you closer to the edge. The combination of his cold touch and the building heat within you was an intoxicating blend of sensations.

"Zayne…" you gasped out his name, your voice laced with need. "More… please."

Without warning, Zayne pulled his hand away, leaving you empty and achingly needy. But instead of stopping there, he lifted your leg higher onto his shoulder, exposing you further to his hungry gaze. His free hand moved to grip your thigh tightly, holding it open for him as he leaned down to place a kiss directly onto your dripping slit.

As Zayne's fingers plunged deeper into your slick cunt, you could feel the chill of his Evol spreading through your most intimate places. Each thrust sent tendrils of icy bliss spiraling outwards, contrasting deliciously with the scorching heat still pulsing within you. Your inner walls clenched greedily around him, trying to draw more of that refreshing coolness into your overheated depths.

"That feels amazing," You gasped out, grinding shamelessly against his hand as he worked you open. Your hips rocked in time with his strokes, chasing the dual sensations of frigid ecstasy and fiery need that consumed you.

Droplets of perspiration trickled down your temples despite the cooling effect of Zayne's touch, evidence of the inferno still raging beneath your skin. "I love how you respond to me." He whispered looking up at you from between his legs.

"Oh... Oh Zayne..." His fingers moved expertly within you, curling upward to brush against your sweet spot with every plunge. Each flicker of contact there sent bolts of pleasure rocketing through your system, intensifying the heat coiling low in your abdomen. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more of that tantalizing friction.

The cool air kissed your damp skin, chilling the sweat that clung to your curves. Despite the soothing effects of his Evol, your body was aflame with arousal. "More… please," you pleaded softly, writhing underneath him.

Zayne's fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt, curling and twisting to hit all the right spots. The coolness of his touch was amplified tenfold when he brushed against your sensitive insides, sending shivers racing up and down your spine.

"Oh yes, just like that," You moaned, bucking your hips against his hand. Your inner walls gripped tightly around him, milking his digits for every bit of pleasure they could offer.

As the tension built within you, Zayne leaned down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. He nibbled and sucked gently on the hardened peak while his free hand wandered down to tease your clit. The combination of sensations was too much; with a loud cry, you came hard on his fingers. Waves of orgasmic bliss washed over you, leaving you panting and spent beneath him.

As the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, Zayne kept up his relentless pace, coaxing every last tremor of pleasure from your quivering body. His fingers were a masterful blend of cool and hot, driving you towards new heights of bliss.

"Mmm, look at you," Zayne growled approvingly, watching as your body convulsed beneath him. He slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste the essence of your arousal. "Delicious."

He lowered himself onto the bed, positioning himself between your spread thighs. His cock, hard and ready, pressed insistently against your soaked folds. "Mmm, fuck me... Please."

With a low, guttural groan, Zayne's clothes were on a pile on the floor, he pushed forward, pressing you down further between him and the bed. "If you insist. How can I say no?" Your body instinctively wrapped around him, relishing the feeling as he presed into you.

"Oh fuck, you feel so lovely," He hissed through gritted teeth, his hips beginning to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust dragged him deeper, hitting points inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

Zayne's cool palms settled on either side of your head, his face inches from yours as he pounded into you with increasing fervour. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint hint of his Evol's chill. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself clinging to him, nails digging into his back as you met his thrusts with eager rolls of your own hips.

"Za- Z-" You hid your face in his neck, moaning loudly as Zayne's powerful thrusts drove him deeper into you. The sound of your ragged breaths and wanton cries echoed through the room, mingling with the lewd slap of skin on skin as he took you hard and fast.

"Take it, baby," Zayne grunted, his voice strained with exertion. "You feel incredible wrapped around me." His hands roamed your curves, squeezing and kneading as he pistoned in and out of you with reckless abandon.

The coolness of his Evol seemed to intensify with each passing moment, seeping into your very marrow and heightening every sensation. It was a stark contrast to the blazing heat of your arousal, creating an addictive mix that left you teetering on the brink of another explosive climax.

Zayne's movements became erratic, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chased his own release. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips.

"Yes, yes, don't stop!" You cried out, your nails raking down his back as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. The dual sensations of your scorching heat and his icy coolness had you wound tighter than a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.

"Ah- I'm close... I'm close, my love." With a final, brutal thrust, Zayne buried himself to the hilt inside you. His face melted in your neck, a groan leaving his lips, his pulsing cock erupted in long, pulsing spurts, painting your inner walls with his essence. The sensation triggered your own climax, and you moaned his name as your world shattered into a million glittering pieces.

As the last echoes of your shared orgasms faded away, Zayne collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, matching the rapid cadence of your own.

After a moment, Zayne lifted his head to gaze down at you, his eyes warm with satisfaction and affection. A lazy smile played on his lips as he brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead.

"Now I that fucked you, you will have your water." Zayne rolled off of you with a satisfied grunt, his tone strict, fully your doctor, leaving no room for disagreements, his softened cock slipping from you. He stretched languidly before padding out of the room, not caring of his nakedness. He retrieved a pitcher of ice-cold water and poured two glasses full to the brim. The condensation already beading on the outside of the glasses promised a refreshingly cool drink.

"Cuddle first?" You asked, sitting up when he entered back.

He gave you a gentle smile, "Sure, we'll clean later."

Zayne handed you the glass mixed with your prescribed electrolytes, climbing back under the covers beside you. He settled comfortably against the pillows, one arm draped casually across your waist to pull you in his lap as he sipped his water.

{LaDs Kinktober Taglist: @m00nchildwrites}

[glitchfiles]

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses… 

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.” 

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head. 

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks. 

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.”  his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.  

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already. 

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place. 

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer. 

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it. 

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out. 

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are. 

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there. 

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you. 

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own. 

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress. 

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car. 

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.” 

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you. 

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat. 

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial. 

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.” 

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you. 

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having. 

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper. 

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak. 

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him. 

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty. 

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up. 

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.” 

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

 “next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.” 

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

© glitchfiles

[karlachismylife]

A Spot of Lunch || The Queen of the Clan pt.4

CW: fem!chubby!reader, stalking, animal aggression (no violence)

Paranoia wasn't something you have ever associated with the vast grassy planes of sunlit savanna. An unsettling feeling of being constantly watched, followed, stalked seemed more suitable for the claustrophobic confines of a big city with its tall concrete walls and sleepless eyes of neon signs and late night windows peering blindly into the darkness - or maybe even a cold, isolated cabin among winter woods, with howling wind and creaking floorboards eerily masking the steps of whatever was looking through the frosty glass planes from the other side.

An open space full of busy with their own survival wildlife and sun burning every little patch of shadow anyone could hide in never crossed your mind as a place for a worry of unwanted following.

And yet you felt it.

You've learnt to distinguish this creepy sensation of being watched by something from the constant presense of your crew's cameras and curious looks of the animals. Even coming face to face (from afar, obviously) with the lion pride that was your main target for the documentary and attracting their attention left a different aftertaste - sure, you did feel like prey looking into the big eyes, adorned with a nature-given eyeliner, twinkling predatorily at you from the muzzle of a huge feline partially covered by the tall grass, but it still was just an animal watching you and gauging if you and your weird pack of two-legged companions were a better dinner option than an antilope.

What watched your back when you were sorting through your footage in camp or unloading the rover for another static filming, didn't feel like an animal.

"Well, we didn't even have that much visitors in camp for the last few days, so I'd say we're pretty safe," Kir, the shoulder you're used to rely on at this point, listens to your concerns carefully as he accepts heavy equipment from your arms - you reached a suitable place to have some food, so a temporary camp is being prepared. "Besides, we're always staying together out here, right? I'll look after you for now. Let's see if you still feel this shadow of yours when we get back to homebase, and then we'll look for a solution again. Maybe it's just the savanna getting to you, city cookie."

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, but his reassurance helps shake the unpleasant feeling from your scruff a bit - Kir has a point, the crew is being careful about animals and it's not like there are any other humans in these parts nearby, so you'll probably be alright. Definitely feels nice to have someone who doesn't simply dismiss your concerns and is ready to take more precautions if the initial ones fail to work.

"Maybe it's a heatstroke or something," you mutter awkwardly, now almost ashamed of how serious you make it all sound when no one else is having such problems. Kir immediately turns around, a big duffelbag on his shoulder, skin glistening with sweat, and gives you a disapproving look.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. This isn't a hike outside your hometown, every concern you have is worth looking into. Better be overcautious than become someone's dinner, especially when you're already a total snack," finally having gotten you to smile, he winks and hurries to the main camp. When you reach the others to set up your lunch break, a hat lands on your head - you lift your eyes, almost covered by it, and of course, it's still Kir, wiping his forehead with a smile. "No heatstroke for you, cookie. Go have some water."

The hat is a bit sweaty on the inside, but it keeps the sun away better than the scarf you couldn't tie properly this morning.

As you all sit around in the shadow created by a lone acacia and chew on your not so bad meals - apparently, veteran participants of these trips have experience not only in getting close to animals unnoticed or navigating vehicles through uneven sandy terrain, but also in making quite the unappealing looking canned food taste good - quiet human chatter mixes together with the birds calling each other out and little chirping mice sneaking around your camp in timid curiosity. A fit of laughter bursts here and there. Your worry melts into nothingness in the heat, you feel safe as you look at your crew.

These people are doing what they love, and you notice that the dull apathy that was eating at you to the point of taking a break in your studies slowly steps away. Surprisingly, your impulsive idea turned out to be not so bad - maybe you'll take additional courses when you return, to be able to move here, work at the sanctuary, watch-

"Psst, look," a gentle nudge makes you stop digging into the little bowl you have with your mighty fancy teal spork (your 100% recycled plastic pride and joy), and you look up to where Kir points with his chin and puckered lips. "Even I recognize that snout already."

So do you, of course.

A wide, happily grinning, sniffing vigorously at the direction of your temporary camp, round-eared snout with a thick mohawk of a lush mane.

"Finally brought a friend," chuckles Kir next to you - and he's right, shoulder to shoulder with your old pal Stinky stands another hyena, spotted so generously that its fur seems almost brown, as does its shorter, but even thicker than Stinky's mane. Pure elegance shines through the stance of its long legs and the whole form, especially compared to its bulky mate.

And there they are - the most enchanting, heart-stealing, soul-charming dark eyes you've ever seen an animal have.

"Shit," you nearly choke on the corn you forgot you had in your mouth before swallowing anxiously, and try to muffle your coughing, afraid it might scare the animals away; but instead they only tilt their heads in an adorable way and watch as you scramble to shove your food bowl into Kir's hands and grab your camera.

It takes you less than two minutes to sneak to your bag (not the one that was sprayed - that one is banished to lay alone next to a rover far, far away from where you eat, God) and grab the camera, but when you turn back, both hyenas seem to have lost all interest in you and your camp, rolling around together in the patchy grass and partaking in a ritualistic play.

Subtle breaths of warm wind bring over quiet growls and occasional sassy cackles from the scuffle, nips and paw slaps exchanged in equal amounts. The sight is nothing short of adorable: two members of one of the most dangerous species on Earth tossing each other around like playful cubs, almost as if they're fighting over-

"Hey, look, they've got something!" One of the other camera operators points out gleefully with her spoon and you close one eye, focusing your camera on the pair. They definitely are fighting over some scrap, and just as you zoom in on their scowling mouths, Stinky jumps to its feet, yanking something that looks like a piece of hide in attempt to wrestle their toy from the other one's maw. "Hey, can you see what it's about?"

You hum, squinting as you meddle with the settings - it's quite hard to make out what it is, some brown-ish rug, stretching between two pairs of powerful jaws, clenched and pulling in a simple game of tug-of-war. Just as you take a series of quick shots, that dark, lean hyena also gets up and twists its neck, trying to snatch that thing from his broader mate - and it rips.

In your lense you see loose strings hanging from the ripped edges of the torn toy.

"Huh, looks like a piece of cloth!" Curious, you zoom in some more, taking several fine portrait pictures of Stinky's big, displeased-looking snout. Its ears flatten a bit as it shakes its head, sand flying off the fluffy mane and landing on the dark hide of its buddy. The latter seems to be much more content with the end result of the playfight, already lying back on the warm ground comfortably, long frong legs crossed in an effortlessly graceful way and half of the desired prise being chewed enthusiastically before it's dropped with a yawn. "Maybe someone lost a scarf? No pattern though..."

You point your camera at the unbelievably stunning dark-furred hyena and take more photos, almost holding your breath at the beauty of the animal resting on the dusty ground. Its slightly lazy gaze slowly trails over the surroundings and then lands on you.

And then, you swear, it winks at you.

You press the button on your camera automatically, capturing this moment for you to stare at later, when you'll start doubting your own sanity. A lopsided smirk stays on the hyena's muzzle for a second longer - and then it's gone.

"What the hell..." you mutter under your nose, lowering your camera with a dumbfounded look and stare at the embodiment of innocence the cheeky fluffball is now. Almost as if they both heard you, Stinky perks up too, and you finally notice that whatever they were playing with is now hanging off its pleased snout shoved through a neat round opening in the material. So it's definitely something man-made. A shirt that's been shredded by predators' teeth until only the collar or a short sleeve remained?..

You shudder at the thought about how the hyenas got their sock-clad paws on the thing and what happened to the owner. Maybe it's just been discarded after researchers used it to wrap a hyena's head when they darted and collared one of them. Or it just fell out of someone's backpack on the bumpy road. Or...

A loud whoop interrupts your heavy thoughts and your eyes snap back to the furry menace, only to find it clearly posing for you, slumped over its pal's back and resting its chin between the other's fluttering ears. Surprisingly, the darker - maybe you'll call it Chocolate, it seems almost toothrottingly sweet from afar - hyena doesn't seem to mind much, waving its tail with a black brush on end languidly and laying still until you take a few pictures. Even though the rag Stinky can't seem to let go clearly gets in its eyes no matter how many times it tries to brush it away with an endearing ear movement.

Of course Stinky just drops its toy altogether on Chocolate's head the second something else attracts its attention - the way it perks up and loses that trickster grin, looking directly behind you, startles you, but almost twisting your neck to look over your shoulder proves futile. It's just Kir.

"Sorry to ruin your fun, cookie, but we'll have to get moving in a few, thought you'd want to finish your meal," he sighs with an apologetic smile, clearly not immune to the cuteness of the hyenas himself, and hands you your bowl, immedietely earning a growl.

A growl much closer than you'd expect from where your visitors stayed.

You jump, nearly dropping both your camera and food, and quickly turn back to see both hyenas, tails and manes belligerently fluffed up, just a few meters away. Kir steps in front of you immediately, shielding from the animals, but it seems only to aggravate them more.

Maybe it's not the brightest idea you get, but your adrenaline-high brain offers you a memory of Stinky obeying when you raised your voice at it.

"Stay down you two! Shoo! Get back!" Leaning around Kir's muscular shoulder, you wave with your spork at the unfriendly couple.

Somehow, it works.

They almost look upset, tails slowly hanging down and ears lowered - they even lean their whole bodies to the ground as they back away. Stinky is clearly more reluctant, and you would be melting at the sight if your heart wasn't still racing after the scare.

"You get back too, Stinky. Or I'll sign every picture of you with your nickname in all the wildlife magazines!" Perhaps it's your tone making the animals nervous, but Chocolate suddenly lets out a short giggle. Still feels nice to have someone appreciate your humor, especially when it earns him a nip at the scruff from Stinky, finally distracting him from you. "And you don't laugh at Stinky! What, you think there won't be enough of me for the both of you? I'll make fun of every fucking four-legged menace if you keep growling like that!"

An barely started new scuffle between the two stops abruptly, two pairs of huge wet eyes looking at you with almost human perspicacity. Remembering too late that a direct stare can provoke an animal, you avert your gaze, but it's unnecessary: even from the corner of your eye you see both hunched figures slowly gaining speed as they further away from the camp.

"What, you a hyena whisperer now?" Kir lets out a subtle relieved breath and you par his back gratefully, exhaling yourself. "Probably got scared of me because of my size... well, now that's you've proven your dominance, how about you finish your food? I'll pack everything for you, so don't rush."

Still glancing over your shoulder in case the predators come back, you mutter your thanks to Kir and nod at the other members of the crew who praise you for keeping your cool against the animals again.

"Didn't know they teach you that in school nowadays," jokes one of the older scientists with some canned food juice staining grey stubble around the corners of his mouth. "Good job, kid. Hyenas are all about hierarchy, if you show them you're more dominant, there's little they can do. Just maybe don't get into actual fights with them, you know?"

"Not planning to," you chuckle and finally get back to your food. While you chew absentmindedly, wandering around the camp being taken down, your legs bring you to where your slightly rough (and fluffy too, to be fair) around the edges neighbours left their tattered toy.

Just a weird shaped brown cloth, punctured in several places with the deadly weapon hyenas carry in their mouths and with clearly manufactured seams. That round hole Stinky utilized also has neatly finished edge, like clothing would have.

Huh. Weird. Somehow that chewed up and slobbered snippet looks familiar. Can't really quite put your finger on it though.

Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 5

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

A/N: Please, don't use any of this story as a guide to handling any animals, wild or not. Although I try to use real documentaries and stories of hyena whisperers as a reference to how hyena-human interactions can look like, it's still fiction. Use actual guidelines provided by authorities as to how to behave in contact with stranger animals.

Tagging:@elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts

[coffeeghoulie]

If you're comfortable doing so, maybe something that delves into Phantom/Aeons time in the pit and how his bad experiences there impact him now that he's topside

hey? hey anon? how did you know I've been wanting to talk about Aeon's parents for six months?

Contains child abuse and discussion of child abandonment, eye injury, and nightmares. Aeon uses they/them for themself, but their parents don't know that and use he/him for them.

(this does expand on lore I wrote for Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to read that to read this)

divider by @wrathofrats

"The kit's not getting any bigger, Oasis."

Aeon's left ear twitches at the sound of Caldera's voice, rough and crackling like her fire. They come to awareness, but don't dare open their eyes. They don't want their guardians to know they're awake yet, the sinking feeling in their gut telling them that they are not supposed to be witnessing this conversation. The ground is rough underneath their side, and the campfire crackles in flashes of orange even through their eyelids. The three of them have been settled here for a little over a week, about time to pack up and move through the older ghouls' territory, finding somewhere else to bed down.

"How many times have I told you that quint kits are called pups, Cal," Oasis sighs. There's the sound of a hand running over a face. Both of them have been doing that a lot more recently, and Aeon can't tell who it is without opening their eyes. The air is thick with sulfur and smoke, and it stings at their nose.

"Frankly, I don't fucking care what they're called," she says. "We've been raising him for Lucifer knows how long because we thought he'd be strong enough to help us defend our territory. And he's at the point he should have grown. He's still so small."

There's disdain in her voice, one of her paws tapping at the ground in irritation. Aeon's brow furrows. They're not small. They might be skinny, but they're a full head taller than Caldera is, just above eye level with Oasis. They do know that Cal's small for a fire ghoulette, has encountered other fire ghouls who've tried to claim what their guardians have staked as their own.

"Cal, you've gotta have patience-" Oasis tries to reason, but he's never been able to stop her. When Caldera sets her mind to something, Aeon knows she stops at nothing to get her way.

"How long have we been going hungry to keep him around?" she growls, and Aeon can almost hear the sparks from her tongue. "Years and years of our lives, I'm so fucking tired of waiting. The kit can hardly even use his magick and he's practically an adult."

"What do we even know about quintessence ghouls, Cal?" Oasis keeps trying to reason. "We can't teach him magick we don't even understand."

"I don't fucking care," Caldera snarls at her mate. "I'm done. Keeping him was your idea in the first place. You want to keep the kit around? That'll be on you then. But then I'm out."

There's a commotion, someone getting to their feet rapidly. "That's just fucking like you, Cal. You'd really give up on how long we've been mated over our son?"

Caldera laughs, loud enough that Aeon thinks they have a solid excuse to wake up. They keep feigning sleep though. "Our son? Oasis, are you insane? You were the one who thought a quintessence ghoul be a good investment for the pack."

Aeon's heart falls through their stomach, trying desperately to process what they're hearing. Investment. Oasis had always told them that he'd found them, small and abandoned, so young that their eyes hadn't even opened yet. That the two of them wanted a kit to take care of. They feel like the rug's been yanked out from under them.

They don't have much time to process it though, because Oasis sighs, tossing something back and forth between his hands. Aeon doesn't need to open their eyes to know it's a pebble, something that had caught his eye at some point. "Fine, Cal. But you tell him."

Aeon tenses as rapid footsteps approach their sleeping form, trying hard to not curl up into a ball preemptively. A hot hand grabs their shoulder, the threatening bite of sharp claws even through their threadbare shirt.

"Wake up," Caldera says, low and dangerous as she shakes their shoulder. Even though they had some warning, they still yelp, tail tucked between their legs. Their eyes go wide at the fury in Caldera's expression, her growl as she hauls them to their feet.

"Cal-" Aeon stammers, trying not to struggle against her grip. Knows it's easier to let her put them where she wants than to fight it.

"None of that, runt," she snaps, and both of their violet eyes go wide. She's never- They've never- "You're grown, now. It's time for you to find your own place."

"Right now?" Aeon says, tipping their head back and baring their throat, trying to appease her. All the while, Oasis stands by the fire, watching distantly. "Oasis, please tell her I can't."

"He's not going to help you, runt. We're both ready for you to go," Cal says. There's a fire in her yellow eyes, red and orange flickering in her irises.

They stammer, glancing back and forth between their guardians. "That's not true, I heard you talking-" Aeon freezes and cuts themself off as Caldera's expression morphs, grip curling tighter into the collar of Aeon's shirt, claws punching through the threadbare fabric. They can feel the keratin against their skin, and they swallow hard.

"Oh? So you were eavesdropping?"

"No- I couldn't help it!"

She growls, pulling hard and shoving them towards the campfire. They stumble, paw catching on the brimstone, and they fall hard, twisting onto their back to look up at her. "I'm not going to say it again," she snarls, looming above them. The firelight makes her features sharper, fangs shining. "Get the fuck out."

They slowly push themself up to standing. Aeon finds the courage in their gut to growl back at her, ears pinned back against their head, tail lashing behind them as they bare their fangs and get in her face. "I'm not fucking going anywhere, this is my pack too!"

Aeon knows it's a mistake the moment the words leave their mouth.

Caldera screams in frustration and rage. The last thing Aeon sees out of their left eye is her claws glinting dark in the firelight.

There's a shriek. Aeon wonders why their throat hurts until they realize it's them shrieking. The world spins, blinding hot pain radiating from their face and scalp, and they can feel their heartbeat in the marrow of their left horn. They can't see.

They can't see.

There's something hot and sticky running down their face, and they cup their hand over their eye, cringing at the wetness.

Caldera doesn't even flinch as Aeon's blood drips in rivulets from her claws. "You fucking heard me, you ungrateful brat. We've fed and taken care of you your entire life. You can pay us back by fucking leaving."

She lunges, and Aeon's feet act on instinct, scrambling away from her. They clutch their face, hearing the blood spatter, their shirt sticking to their chest, heavy and wet. Aeon's head spins, and Caldera's behind them, chasing, and Aeon's seen her hunt.

There's no chance of outrunning her, even as their legs scramble underneath them. They run, lungs aching and head spinning, and there's two pounding sets of footfalls behind them.

Aeon sobs, chest heaving with exertion. Their ankle twists in the brimstone, and they stumble into the ground. Blood and tears stream down their cheeks in equal measure. It's over. They're de-

There's a hand on their shoulder.

Aeon jolts awake with a yelp, scrambling backwards into the corner of the couch out from under a big piece of white fabric that was covering them. It takes a moment to recognize their surroundings, fluorescent lights, a big desk in the opposite corner, an empty office chair, slightly rotating like someone stood up in a hurry. A large shape backlit looms over them, making a strange, familiar sound.

Aeon snarls before the sound registers, their entire body slumping as Aether chuffs at them. "Hey, you're alright, pup, you're safe," he breathes, his big hand hovering over their shoulder, his silver bracelet glinting in the light. "You were dreaming."

They nod, reaching up to touch at the scars running through though their left eye and biting back a sob. Aether nods back, cautiously sitting next to the younger quintessence ghoul and pulling them close, chuffing all the while.

"My shift just ended," Aether whispers, shifting them until Aeon's practically in his lap. "Do you want to go back to the den?"

Aeon nods quietly. Aether gently wipes away a tear from the silvery track across their cheek with a big thumb. They've been shadowing him to learn about infirmary work, a few months away from actually working on their own. "You want a hug, pup?"

"Please," they whisper, shoving Aether's white coat off of their legs. They'd been using it as a blanket while they napped on the couch in his office. The bigger ghoul draws them in, chuffing and nosing at their hair.

Aeon settles, eventually, and they stand hand in hand. "Can we go home?" Aeon asks, and Aether smiles, flashing a gold capped fang at them.

"Of course, pup, let's go home to our pack."

[valkyyriia]

Try This On For Size

Words: 2729

CW: Google Translate French, Comte de Saint-Germain’s real name, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism?, Mirror Sex, Creampie, Vaginal Fingering | NSFW

Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain / Female-Bodied Reader

Prompt(s): Fitting Room, Let Them Play Dress-Up With You

Note: I cranked out another one at work tonight. I'm feeling even less confident with this one than I was with the other, but.. I hope it still makes sense.

Crossposted on AO3 here.

For @xxsycamore's event, Sexy Ikemen Summer!

The sticky summer heat of the French countryside was beginning to get to you. No amount of fanning yourself or loosening your collar was cutting it. 

Of all the things you could be missing from the modern era, air conditioning was not expected to be the crux of all of your issues. 

Just as you feared you would begin to melt into the parquet flooring, a cool hand brushed against the back of your neck. “Are you okay, ma chérie? You seem a little warm.” His voice was soothing, but tinged with concern.

“I’m alright,” you assured him with a content sigh, leaning back into his touch. “It’s just hotter than I’m used to.” 

Comte’s hands dropped to your shoulders and he began to massage them. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as the tension left your body. “You’ve been working hard lately. I think it’s time you take a break.”

“There’s too much to do for that,” You protested. “Sebas needs help with dinner, and we haven’t even begun cleaning up the book fort Leonardo created in the library.” 

Comte hummed, one of his hands gently caressing the side of your neck. “Should I give it as an order from your employer, then? If a heartfelt plea from your partner isn’t enough.” He moved to kiss your neck under your ear. “Please, mon amour. It wouldn’t do to have you suffer a heatstroke simply because you’re too stubborn to know when to take a break.” His lips moved towards your shoulder, teasing but affectionate. His arms moved to your waist, pulling you back into his embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder and held you close.

You leaned into him, your head draped over his other shoulder. Unlike the stifling heat of the outdoors, Comte’s warmth was comforting and welcome. He nuzzled into the joint between your neck and shoulder. “Let me spoil you today,” he said, kissing your neck again. 

“You spoil me every day, Abel,” you sighed, relaxing further into your partner. He was going to win this and you both knew it; it was just a matter of how long it took you to give in.

“And yet, somehow, I’m still not satisfied that it’s enough. You deserve more, chérie. You deserve the world, and you will get it if I have anything to say about it.” His arms tightened around your midsection, pulling you even closer. 

A cool, inviting breeze suddenly blew through the open window. The air rushed along your face and tousled your bangs. Even nature herself was trying to tempt you. With another sigh, you gave in. “Fine. But you have to let me get up on time tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to leave Sebas waiting again like the last time you took me out for the day.” 

The vampire chuckled into your neck, the reverberations rumbling through your own body due to the proximity. “I seem to recall you left my bed quite satisfied that morning.” 

You flushed at the memory. “I certainly was,” you agreed. “Until Sebas abused my forehead after breakfast. I had a bruise for a week.” 

“Alright, alright,” he relented, stepping back from you with a light chuckle and holding up his hands in defeat. “Let’s get you cooled off.” 

“But it was worth it, non?” He looked up at you from his position on your shoulder. Comte’s golden eyes twinkled with amusement, but they were tinged with a subtle heat. His hands drifted slowly down your abdomen, his gaze never leaving yours. He offered you a coy smile.

You groaned. “It’s too hot, Abel,” you protested. “I will genuinely either melt into a puddle or catch on fire if you continue that line of thought right now.” 

As it turns out, Comte’s idea of “cooling off” was taking a carriage into town and going clothes shopping. For you, of course. His reasoning was that your clothes were heavier than you were accustomed to in your time, so lighter fabric would help fend off the oppressive French sun. Comte’s logic was sound, but you were quite sure he was just fishing for an excuse to buy you even more dresses that you would only wear once. 

As the carriage stopped, he stepped out first, offering you his hand. Taking it, he kissed the back of it before tucking your arm into his. The two of you walked leisurely in the direction of his favorite boutique, the one the both of you frequented. The staff immediately recognized the both of you (you were pretty certain that Comte’s patronage alone could keep this store in business for centuries to come, and potentially push France into the forefront of the modern economy) and ushered you into a large fitting room in the back of the building. 

“How can we be of service on this day, Monsieur le Comte?” 

He looked around the room briefly. “My partner is in need of some lighter summer clothes. The heat is getting to her,” he said, brushing his knuckles against your cheek with affection. You hadn’t really considered it before today, but the dress you were wearing was made of a heavier material that was more suited for the later part of the year. Maybe a couple of thinner summer dresses would be a good idea - you just hoped you could keep your darling Comte from purchasing the entire store this time.

The shop worker nodded in agreement. “The Madame’s dress is much better for the cooler months. Yes, I will bring you some of our best. Un moment, s'il vous plaît,” they said, stepping out to rifle through a few clothing racks.

You looked around the room. Not much had changed from the last time you were here, except now they had frilly sun hats and sunglasses on display alongside the jewelry and shoes. 

“Has anything caught your eye, ma chérie?” Comte asked, tilting your chin up to look at him. 

“Aside from you, you mean?” You ask with a smile. He responds with a chuckle and a kiss to the forehead. 

“You are so.. Séduisant, mon amour,” Comte murmured, amused. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Many things, I’d imagine,” you said sweetly. “After all, eternity is a long time.”

Before Comte could reply, the shop attendant returned with a large bundle of fabric bunched in her arms. “I selected a few similar to what you’ve purchased for le Comtesse before, along with a couple of other styles I’m sure would look lovely on her.” She smiled at you. 

“I truly think she could make anything look amazing. Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle,” Comte replied with a cordial smile. “We will take it from here.” 

The attendant curtsied on her way out of the fitting room. “If you have need of anything else, please just let us know.” 

Once you were alone, Comte sat on the ottoman in the room and grinned cheekily. “Strip.” 

Your cheeks bloomed a dark pink. “Don’t say it like that!” You hissed, untying the ribbon at your neck at his request anyway. His laughter filled the room. 

You tried on several outfits that day; all of which were far lighter material than what you had on. They were high-quality, lightweight cotton - and definitely outside of your normal budget. Not that Comte cared about price. If you expressed even the slightest desire for something, the vampire would have dozens of the item in question waiting for you within a day, regardless of practicality or expense. One time, you had been playing with Lumière and commented on how cute he was, and the next day you woke up to an entire litter of kittens in your room, courtesy of Comte. You ended up rehoming all but one of them - a little black thing you had named Minerva. She was probably sunning herself in the window right about now, absorbing all the sun she could. Disgusting.

Comte gave feedback on all of them, but he seemed pleased with every dress you tried on. He chose accessories and shoes for everything you tried on. While le Comte de Saint-Germain may not be the most fashionable of individuals, he could at least pick out matching shoes and jewelry. 

Throughout the fittings, Comte’s eyes only left your figure a handful of times, just long enough to grab a pair of shoes or another accessory. The rapt attention from your lover would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t so endearing. Your trained eye could tell that Comte grew somewhat more impatient with every article you tried on, but he never once rushed you. You wondered what had him so antsy, but you decided not to ask. After all, you would be done soon enough.

The last dress in the pile was a beautiful, floral-print cotton gown. The base fabric was white, but it was dyed with small daisies all over. You looked at yourself in the mirror and twisted to get a better look. You tried to reach behind you to lace up the back, but you stopped when you saw him come up behind you. Comte’s fingers gently batted yours aside and he began to lace the dress, looking at you in the mirror as he did so. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the look he gave you - adoration, desire, and hunger. “It looks beautiful on you,” Comte said honestly as he secured the fastenings. He tightened the laces just enough so it would stay on, but not so much your movement would be inhibited. 

“Everything today has looked good on you, chérie,” he added, his now free hands settling on your hips and pulling you flush to him. You could feel his hardness straining against the smooth material of his trousers. He lightly rubbed his hips against yours.

The feeling of his arousal against your backside caused you to bite your lip and make eye contact with his reflection. His gaze had darkened further and you were suddenly reminded that he was a vampire - a predator - and you were his prey. Rather than fear, however, the sight was more arousing than anything. You almost felt empowered, knowing this man craved you so strongly that his control was only hanging on by a thread. 

“I do,” he said, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders and leaving hot kisses on the now bare skin. “I’ve rather enjoyed getting to play dress up with you today, but I have been looking forward to the moment I got to take them off of you. I can’t keep pretending to be a gentleman right now.” He pushed the dress down your hips, the decorated cotton pooling on the floor, leaving you in your chemise. Comte pulled you backwards, still keeping his eyes on you in the mirror, and bent you over the other side of the ottoman. You complied with his direction, your breath hitching when you felt him run his fingers through your already damp slit. You hung your head and inhaled sharply as he slid in one finger, then two, stretching you slightly.

Comte began to tug on the lace he had just tied up, loosening the bodice of the dress. You looked up at him in surprise. “I thought you liked the dress?”

“You’re already so wet,” he teased. “Such a naughty girl, getting worked up like this in public.” You pushed your hips back against his fingers, but he pulled them out and held you still instead. 

When you heard the sound of fabric rustling, your gaze shot up at the exact time Comte began to press the tip of his cock to your entrance. You looked back at him in surprise, but he turned your face towards the mirror once more. 

“I want you to see how pretty you look while I’m inside you,” Comte said, his voice deep with desire.

“What if someone walks back here?” You asked breathily, biting back a moan as Comte pushed in the rest of the way, filling you completely. “Then we let them enjoy the show,” he replied, snapping his hips against your ass once. You could feel him grinding against the sweet spot deep inside you and you bit your lip hard, straining not to cry out. “I have no intention of stopping. But if you stay quiet like a good girl, they won’t have any reason to come check on us, non?” 

Rather than fucking you into the ottoman, Comte instead opted for shallow thrusts deep in your warmth and continued to grind against you. The constant pressure and friction felt so good it was almost painful. You bit your lip harder, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. Comte reached around to your mouth and gently pulled your abused lip from between your teeth with his thumb. He then slipped the digit between your lips instead, giving you something to keep your mouth occupied without hurting yourself. 

Comte was insistent on keeping your attention on yourself in the mirror. Every time you looked away, he would pull out just enough to where you received no stimulation. When you looked back up at the mirror, you were rewarded with the head of his thick length grinding into your sweet spot again. 

Comte’s other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers deftly stroking the sensitive bud there. He timed his fingers with his hips, setting a gentle yet insistent rhythm. The lack of movement kept the sounds to a minimum; all that could really be heard around the room was a rustling of fabric and the muffled sighs from the both of you. The extra fabric around the room served as a sort of soundproofing as well, masking the sounds as well. You could feel the tension building in your abdomen, and you pushed your hips back against him. Comte’s lips trailed against your neck, his hot breath puffing against the shell of your ear. 

“Come for me,” he whispered, punctuating his command with a kiss under your ear and the insistent motion of his fingers between your thighs. The pressure in your belly suddenly snapped and you leaned forward, forgetting about the mirror; your inner walls contracting around the cock buried deep in you. Comte’s thumb slipped out of your mouth at the motion, but his hand wrapped around your mouth to prevent you from crying out in pleasure and alerting the store personnel to what exactly you were doing in their fitting room.

With a soft grunt, Comte’s free hand suddenly held your hips still as he too found his release. He instinctually pressed himself even deeper into your warmth and emptied himself inside of you with a shudder. Comte’s mouth settled over your pulse point. The urge to bite you was so intense it was hard to resist. His fangs ached with the desire to sink them into the succulent flesh of your neck, but he couldn't - not yet. Comte instead settled for gritting his teeth and pressing his face against you, a quiet groan escaping his throat. With an exhale and a kiss pressed to your shoulder, he pulled out and neatly tucked himself back in his pants. He moved your underwear back into place, preventing any fluid leakage for now, and smoothed out the skirt of your chemise. 

Comte spent the next five minutes making you both presentable again. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure you would be able to shop at this store anymore for the sake of embarrassment. Once you were both decent, he shot you a cheeky grin and kissed your forehead. Your face flushed. “You have the worst poker face, ma chérie,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” you grumbled weakly in response, exhaling and trying to calm the heat rising in your cheeks.

Comte offered you his arm once more and guided you out of the fitting room. “We’ll take everything she tried on today,” Comte told the store clerk. You groaned in exasperation. You’re going to need a whole wing of the mansion just for your clothes if Comte keeps getting his way. However, that’s a problem for tomorrow you, you decide. For today, you’re content to let him keep spoiling you. 

“Je t’aime, Comte,” you murmur, leaning against his arm. 

“Je t’aime aussi,” he replies, kissing the top of your head. “And I always will.”

Taglist: @natimiles

[gladiatorcunt]

you nailed how i imagined modern!feyd to be (batshit crazy) but you think he‘d let cute hello kitty reader put like stickers and bows on his motorcycle and stuff lmao? would he be an ass and be mean about it or would he allow it because reader is all sad and mopey otherwise 😔🎀 (maybe brat reader? like how would mans handle that in the modern au because in the canon verse pissing him off is a bit too scary) and alsoooo i laughed my ass off when you wrote he would debone coryo like a fish because yuh that twink (he could do bad things to me) wouldn’t stand a chance fr

he would actually make coryo so concerned, like they’re both from well off families (feyd just does underground fighting bc for the #love of the game) but coryo will be like “these poor people are CRAZY.” coryo gives off the vibes of he’d tell someone to kill for him (especially when he gets older, or he wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he does it himself & he’s methodical), feyd is tearing out throats with his teeth. he’d tackle his uncle and start stabbing, he’d gnaw his own arm off just for fun like you can’t compete where you don’t compare tbh. (coryo’s still my bf tho <3)

anyway,

cw: 18+ mdni, typical feyd warnings, spanking/pain play type stuff

modern!feyd would only let you put stickers on his bike if they’re the ones that are like hello kitty holding a gun or something. it’s not like he’s afraid that the softer ones will undermine his masculinity or anything, feyd’s ripping into other men with no real regard for keeping their bodies intact, it’s just that the cutesy stickers go on his helmet. he’ll let you tie a ribbon around his bicep and film videos of him flexing and making it pop off. he would wear matching pjs with you, but he doesn’t want to get blood on them so he sticks to his trusty sweats. he’s the kind of person to wear black in the hot summer sun because he’s spiteful enough to not give a fuck about heatstroke, like it’s something he could fight lmao. gets a matching dear daniel x hello kitty tattoo with you i fear, or a my melody x kuromi one since that’s more your dynamic.

brat!reader with canon era feyd does scare me to death, but with modern!feyd it’s fun to think about…. to a degree. like if you keep it up, he’s pausing the match and dragging you inside the ring to spank you in front of everyone. open palm strikes with half of his strength, if he used all of it your ass might fall off. his rings add even more sting. you learn quickly to know when to pack it up and throw in the towel, because he will NEVER be the one to test out your devious little ideas and macinations out on. he’ll shove a vibrator up your pussy and take you for a long ride on his bike, ignoring the way you try to hump him as he points out the sights he thinks you’d be interest in. weirdly punishes you by fucking nice and slow when you want your shit rocked, he doesn’t even edge you or anything, he just gives it you so soft and sweet and holds your hips down so you can’t try to buck them.

in some ways, you being at his matches has helped his abilities. (you do have to come to his fights btw, if you’re not there expect the rumble of his engine to be heard outside of wherever you’re at. feyd will get his unlce to cancle the match if you’re not there, he’s ultimately a certain kind of performer and if the key audience member isn’t there??? what’s the point.) he has to keep an eye on you, which helps him multitask. he’ll be punching some fuckin’ loser into an unrecognizable pulp while, out of the corner of his eye, making sure that no one’s trying to drag you into any wagers or into their cars. he’s curious if you could cum just from watching one of his fights, from hearing the agonized whimpers of his opponent as feyd effortlessly conquers them. something about you must be sick, because the more ruthless he is in a fight, the higher you’re jumping on him and the more marks you’re sucking into his neck.

you’re so clumsy with it, always putting too much teeth into your hickeys. but that’s just the way he likes it, because you know he’s actively holding back from biting you so hard that’s nearly cannibalizing you. (side note: loves gorey horror, nothing too funny or artsy, he likes shit that cares more about the pure carnage than quips or wide camera shots. hannibal is too “fancy” for him, he always asks you to explain what the fuck they’re talking about.) definition of mauling you like a bear, fucking him is like meeting God if they were an eldritch horror and you were on the brink of death. it is NOT for the weak, his thick arms holding you in a headlock as he pistons his gigantic cock into your cervix. he makes you cum until pass out, then he makes you do it again to wake you up. really good at resetting your brain if you need him too.

modern!feyd who gives you the ultimate scary guard dog priviledge. you’re going about your business in a store and he’s practically vibrating behind you, foaming at the mouth and waiting for some mf to try it with you so he can berserk. but no one ever takes the bait, just one look at his deranged ass and they’re swiftly turning on their heels and high tailing it out of the apple store (you’re taking too long to pick what color imac you want.) copies whatever pictures you saw on pinterest, acting as your little prop. wrapping a tattooed hand around your throat, mirror selfies where he’s holding you over his shoulder by your ass, gross close ups of his long tongue wrapped around yours, insta stories directed at paul specficially bc he won’t stay out of your dms. asks his opponents for date ideas while he’s beating their ass 💀, made his uncle organize a remartch (even though feyd won) with the guy who limped over to your adorably clad in pink form and asked you to get boba (because he noticed feyd giving you your favorite before his fights).

pierced dick, would sharpen his teeth and make his tongue forked. face tattoos + whatever piercing’s more painful. big in body mods overalls like he sees himself as an extension of his motorcycle that he’s always illeggaly modding, fast and furious type specs that no court of law would deem road safe. but he always devotes part of his brain to making sure you’re safe when you ride along with him, reaching behind him and his black painted nails rubbing comforting little circles into your plush thighs. ambidextrous by choice and practice, for sure has a cauliflower ear. whenever you’re sad and pouting, he’s grabbing your chin in between his thumb an pointer finger and lifting your head up so he lovingly teases you about being a crybaby and so he can lick your tears away. (and he doesn’t even do it with sexual intent, feyd’s genuinely just trying to consume your sadness directly since word’s aren’t his strong suit.) could fall asleep in an ice bath, has done it before, dad type snoring like you wouldn’t believe.

loves it when you ride him in any kind of water, you have to pack extra strength sun screen if you’re going to be out in the sun though bc he WILL burn more often than not. still has your pussy gorilla glue gripping his length though, there’s no pain on earth that would put him out of comission & that’s a promise.

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 1

←Previous episode

Next episode→

Index

---

Let's start with a familiar face, shall we!

CW: violence And the mention of blood and injury

Read below↓

Or AO3

The heat is unbearable. Scar wakes, wheezing out a hot breath that circles in his sealed helmet, fogged by the last of his moisture. A building headache pulses behind his eyes. He reaches up to rub the soreness out, but his gloves clank uselessly against the visor. He blinks, squinting through the harsh light. His first instinct is to rip the helmet off for the relief of fresh air, but as his eyes adjust, he doubts it’ll make a difference.

He’s in a desert. The dusty and cracked ground stretches all the way to the horizon. Nothing about this place feels familiar, in fact, the bright orange gradients in the sand look alien. He has no way of telling if the air here is breathable, and though it’s tempting, testing it isn’t worth the risk. The sheer lack of life in the landscape certainly doesn’t bode well in that regard.

He tries to think back to how he got here, but there’s nothing. He doesn’t remember falling asleep outside. Definitely not here, and definitely not with his helmet still on.

Reflexively, he reaches for his communicator, but it’s not there. With rising anxiety, he pats down the rest of his person. His gun, enderchest and communicator are all gone. The only useful thing he still has left on him is the helmet on his head.

That’s concerning. He keeps those things on him at all times. It’s mandatory. As much as Scar would push the rules, he can’t deny the sense in keeping his gun, enderchest and communicator at all times. Even with his reputation, he wouldn’t just wander into the wilderness with none of his gear. He’s more competent than that at least, right?

There are no constructed landmarks nearby to use to figure out where he is, and he won’t be able to figure out the star system he’s in until the sun has set. At least whoever left him here had the decency to leave him with his helmet on. He can panic about being stranded, while puffing recycled air.

He thinks for a moment that maybe if he stays put the Vindicators will come looking for him, but that idea is quickly squashed by the realization that he’ll probably die of heatstroke before they realize he’s gone. His best bet is to walk until he finds some sign of intelligent life… or run out of oxygen in the process.

Not the most optimistic reality, but nevertheless Scar picks himself up, bushes the desert dust off his clothes, and scans the horizon for the most promising direction. Hoping, desperately, that he's not about to get himself even more lost than he already is.

With a sigh, he squints at the horizon with his hands on his hips. He finds cracks and grooves in the sand that open up beneath him to form long ravines. The gouges in front of him seem to open up into larger trenches that follow a relatively straight path, a much better scenario than splitting into maze-like passages. He nods approvingly. It’s his best bet to make his way down into the ravine. It’s depth is about double his height, which should still provide some shade from that glaring sun.

He spots a relatively safe way to get down— a sandy slope built up against the otherwise harsh stone. He walks tentatively towards it, but stops at the sound of a beep. Looking around for the cause of the noise, he sees a collection of rocks protruding from the sand, but no movement. He checks the soles of his boots too, in case he stepped on some kind of device hidden in the sand, or maybe a small creature, but he sees nothing there, either.

He’s probably just imagined it. Continuing on, he hurries down towards the slope, desperate to escape the heat. The sound of sand scrapes against his leg braces as he slides, and he keeps a hand pressed into the sand behind him to stay steady. He manages to avoid slipping as the sand shifts below his feet, but only barely.

The shade cuts the temperature in half, and Scar sags with relief. The ravine is just as lifeless and empty as the surface, albeit far more claustrophobic. The curving, orange walls hide the vastness of their expanse from view. Scar’s footfalls echo down the chasm. He’s not sure if he prefers the company of the extra sound or if it just makes him feel more exposed. Everything is so empty and open, and an almost perfect mirror to the clear sky. The entire atmosphere radiates with a yellow glow, as if the sun takes up the whole sky. Maybe it does. Out of the corner of his eye, Scar finally detects movement— a shadow across the dusty scenery, but he reacts too late, and looks up to see the shadow is gone, and the sun’s still bright.

He walks for at least five minutes before another beep is heard again, except this time it doesn’t stop there. Quickening, it takes about thirty seconds untill the next one, forcing Scar to accept he hadn’t imagined it.

He listens, face wrinkled with concentration. The beep isn’t coming from anywhere around him. It feels like it’s in the back of his head. Whatever it’s trying to tell him, he can’t figure it out.

He turns to his left, kicks a few stones, tests if the sound reacts. Maybe it’s something hidden in his jacket pocket. He rifles around in them, remembering they’re all empty, and goes back to struggling to understand the pattern of the beeps. It keeps slowing and quickening— even when Scar is walking in a straight direction, so it can’t possibly be leading him to a fixed place, and he tried waiting a few minutes after each beep, just for nothing to happen, so it can’t be warning him about anything.

Frustrated, Scar tunes it out eventually, and focuses instead on making his way through the desert. He'll be glad to find anything other than rocks, sand and the sourceless beeping at this point. At one point he sees movement again, another shadow darting across the ground. It looks almost like a bird, but Scar can’t be sure, the shape vanishing almost as soon as he notices it. It’s like it’s evading his view, like it’s trying to make him second guess himself.

Scar groans. It’s been a long trek through the winding canyon. The sweat drippin into his eyes taunts him— he wishes more than anything to be able to wipe it from his brow, but alas, Scar’s not quite desperate enough to risk removing the helmet.

Almost on autopilot, he trudges on, trying to think through the heat about what it could mean. He racks his melting brain for more things that might cause beeping in your head, or what it means. Scar’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the beeps getting faster, faster than they had gotten before. When he finally notices, he stops in his tracks, snapping to attention as it continues to speed up.

He doesn’t notice the winged figure swoop down until the impact pushes him to the ground.

Scar screams, head ringing as his visor smacks into the earth. He struggles, trying to roll over to face his assailant, but he’s immediately pinned to the ground by long, dark talons. The figure stares at him through their own helmet, like his except for the visor, which is split into two deep, dark, void-like eyes. They make no sound as their wings spread out, blocking out the sun with their feathers. A glowing blue knife held above their head.

"No wait- wait!"

The figure ignores his pleas, bringing the weapon down. Scar barely manages to deflect the stranger's aim, the knife sinking into his shoulder instead of his heart. Choking back a yell and instinctively shutting his eyes to the pain, he didn’t feel the blade being pulled out, nor see the figure grabbing their own shoulder in confusion.

"What?“ Head swiveling wildly, they balk. “Where?"

Scar shifts on reflex under the weight of the stranger, but this only brings the attacker’s attention back to him, their grip tightening. Without anything to defend himself with, his gun missing and this stanger holding a clear advantage, Scar scrambles for leverage.

He wasn't given time to collect himself as the stranger brings down the hilt of their weapon into his visor, shattering the thick glass.

Scar flinches back as the glass slashes into his cheek, but by some miracle misses his eye.

He pants, unable to catch his breath,helplessly expecting another hit— but the stranger stops. Scar is finally given a moment to reign in his panicking senses, and focuses on the vacant eyes of the stranger’s helmet. Thoughts swim in his slightly concussed mind, and he fishes one up at random.

"...Are we done fighting now?" Scar asks with a nervous laugh, trying to keep eye contact despite one eye now being exposed to the desert sun.

The stranger doesn’t answer.

They’re no longer putting all their weight on him, and eventually slides backwards to a stand, gaze still locked on Scar.

Grateful for the temporary relief, but still cautious, he shuffles slightly to check how the stranger will react. Once he’s sure he isn’t about to be whacked again, he shakily folds his legs under himself to stand, only slightly wobbly, wincing from his injured shoulder.

"So…” Scar tries again, “I think it’s fair to say the air is breathable here."

Scar coughs as he pulls off his helmet, doing his best to avoid the broken glass. The stranger, eerily quiet, considers Scar for a moment, then reaches to take off their own helmet, revealing eyes as deep and dark as their visor, with the same soulless look.

The person in front of Scar is painfully familiar, but he doesn’t skip formalities.

"Well, hello there!" He puts his hand out, but the stranger does not shake it. Their eyes remain locked onto his own, like they’re studying them.

Scar meets the gaze for a while, then his eyes wander to the blood on their face.

"Oh, your cheek-" he gasps, pointing towards it.

They do not move to check their face, pointing to Scar instead.

"Well, same." the stranger mumbles, their voice strained.

"Oh!- " Scar reaches for where the visor had cut him. He'd almost forgotten.

He looks back up at the stranger, to find him pulling a very uncomfortable face. And it clicks.

"Wait- I recognise you."

[kokofromwattpad]

IT BURNS

Featuring: Trey Clover, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Shoenheit

Plot: The Ramshackle prefect gets itchy and turns into a lovely colour of red whenever they stand in the sun for too long

Cw: Gn! Reader, photosensitive! Reader, Trey Clover x reader, Kalim x reader, Vil x reader (Can all be read as platonic or romantic)

A/N: Basically, reader is sensitive to sunlight (JUST LIKE ME FRR)

TREY CLOVER:

-> The first and third years were having a joined flying lesson one day, so the prefect and Trey were just casually conversing as they were doing their stretches.

-> The sun was blazing overhead since there was a major heat wave going throughout the island, so everyone was getting tired and suffering from mild heatstroke every day

-> After a while, Trey had noticed that the prefect's cheeks and forearms had begun to tint a light redish colour.

-> It's when the itchiness and pain began to come in that Trey began to worry.

-> Hurriedly, Trey goes to Coach Vargas and asks for permission to take a break with the prefect. Coach agrees, and Trey leads them underneath the trees to try and ease up on their discoloration.

-> When the vice dorm leader asks for an explanation, all the prefect says is that they are sensitive to the sun had get extremely itchy when they stand in the sun for too long.

-> All Trey does is sigh and stay by their side until the end of the lesson, to which he then buys them a bottle of water to keep them hydrated :)

KALIM AL-ASIM:

-> The Ramshackle prefect was staying over at Scarabia for dinner since Kalim was celebrating for passing one of his history tests.

-> It was the middle of summer, and Kalim decided that he wanted to march to the oasis in celebration and then swim and have a sort of 'pool' party in the oasis.

-> It was actually Jamil who noticed that the prefect was acting odd. They were scratching at their scalp and forearms, trying to relieve the intense pain that was trickling up in their body.

-> Kalim quickly jumps down from the elephant he was riding and quickly sprints to where the prefect was busy scratching away at their skin.

-> Kalim summons his unique magic and dumps the water on them, thinking that that would help relieve them

-> It did

-> Kalim would then on, periodically dump water on the prefect as they continued to march to the oasis.

VIL SHOENHEIT:

-> There was a spelldrive match against RSA that Vil watched and supported since Epel was playing on NRC's team.

-> The prefect tagged along since Epel was their friend and coincidentally was seated next to Vil.

-> After some simple greetings and passing along pleasantries, the two sat in silence as they watched Epel playing in the match.

-> A half an hour into the match, Vil noticed the prefect scratching at their legs and arms, leaving small pale likes in their skin from how blunt their nails are.

-> The model gasped internally at the sight and looked at the prefect with a concerned look on his face.

-> "Did you apply any sunscreen before you got here, potato?" He questions, perfectly plucked eyebrow raising in suspicion.

-> When the prefect nodded and explained that the itchiness happens even if they put on multitudes of sunscreen, they still itch and burn up.

-> Vil tuts and hands them his chilled water bottle to help ease up on the hear they were feeling.

-> A couple of days later, a salve of some sort of cream was left on the prefect's doorstep with a note saying that it would help their skin.

Posted on: 11/01/2024 08:27

[russellsppttemplates]

Can you do a blurb where Finn is older and maybe does Qatar and ends up having to retire bc he feels unwell from heat? And max helps

I love your stuff🧡

Cw: heatstroke, nausea

"It's way too warm! It was back when you raced and it hasn't been getting colder!", you hissed as the team didn't seem too worried about the fact that Finn, along with some of the other drivers on track, seemed to be struggling.

The minute Finn says he's had to get his hands out and control the steering wheel with his wrists so he could cool then down a little, you and Max drew the line. Walking over to the desk, you spoke to his engineer and the decided it would be best to retire the car, "I don't care about points or standings, this is way too hot for them and money is the only reason this Grand Prix happens still", you roared in the garage. It wasn't the first time you defended your son when he needed to, and they knew better than to play with you as Max rubbed his hands on your arms, urging you to calm down and breathe properly as you watched the car being reversed into the garage.

Finn was helped to come out of the car as they fanned him with fresh and cold air, getting his weight before he could sat down on the chair next to you, "hey, love", you cooed, giving him water to drink as he closed his eyes briefly.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get to finish the race, I know it's disappointing", he groaned out.

"No, it's not disappointing, Finn. You weren't feeling well and you shouldn't race in such conditions", Max rubbed his shoulder, "I'm very proud of you", Max ensured his son heard him, having been on the other side and wondering if there was pride directed at him.

"You didn't yell at anyone, did you, mama?", Finn asked a little after as he felt more himself, "of course I did, I can yell about my son as much as I want to", you stated, "also, Julia sent me a message wishing you well and saying that she heard me growl on TV", your shrugged your shoulders, "all that matters is that you're okay", you kissed his forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)