#even w stockings . . . cold . . .

[natalievoncatte]

There was someone in her penthouse.

Lena paused at the door, listening. The short hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a tingling sensation running down her spine. She wasn’t sure what tipped her off, but after the fifth kidnapping and three or four attempted murders in her own spaces -office, lab, here- she always listened to those instincts. Kara never complained if it was a false alarm when Lena activated her signal watch.

Her thumb hovered over the button. She took another step inside and the door latched behind her. She was about to press when Kara said,

“Please don’t press that.”

Something was off. Her voice was raspy, as though she had a sore throat, and oddly distorted. It was as if she spoke through a damaged speaker. Lena edged from the foyer into the kitchen, her heart still pounding.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Kara was standing in the living room in her super suit, or so Lena thought. Her cape was there, but the silhouette was different. Lena reached for the light switch and again Kara spoke.

“Don’t. Please.”

“Kara?”

“I’m not your Kara. I’m just… passing through.”

“Passing through my penthouse?”

Lena ran her thumb around the button, ready to press.

“Are you together in this world?”

Lena froze. The figure in her living room, Kara-but-not, was holding the framed photo of Lena with Kara smiling together, the one she’d once shattered. Kara had bought her a new frame for it when they were healing, still working out who they were going to be together, if their friendship could survive with a foundation that had so profoundly crumbled.

The glint caught Lena’s eye. One of Kara’s hands. At first she thought it was a medal glove but that wasn’t right. The shape was wrong, the fingers too thin, skeletal and claw-like. As her eyes adjusted, Lena could pick out more details.

Good God. The whole side of her face was missing, rebuilt into something inhuman and skeletal. A faint emerald glow from her chest and eye cast a pallid light across the living room.

“She’s my best friend,” said Lena.

“Best friend,” the creature whispered, her voice even harsher and more distorted.

“What do you want?”

“I told you, I’m passing through. I won’t be here long. But… can I look at you?”

“Look at me? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Just let me look at you and I’ll go. Promise me you won’t scream or call me a monster.”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Should I turn on the light?”

“I would rather you didn’t.”

“Alright, then.”

The figure slowly replaced the photograph and turned, moving towards Lena. She limped, just a little, left foot dragging. Lena gasped.

It was Kara, but not. She had been… mutilated was the only word Lena could find for it. Half her face, her right arm, her leg, and worst of all, a gaping hole in her chest that contained a chunk of vile green Kryptonite burning inside. Her skin was deathly pallid, almost blue, raked through with sickly green streaks surrounded by faint bruises, as if her blood itself was poisoning her.

“My God,” Lena breathed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kara said, her remaining eye so full of sadness and regret that Lena felt tears welling in her own.

When Kara wept in return, she wept verdant blood. She drew closer, and Lena stood stock still as Kara pressed a corpse-cold palm to her cheek.

“It’s been so long since I heard your heartbeat,” she said. “Thank you.”

“W-what happened to you?”

“Your brother, what else? He impaled me with a Kryptonite harpoon. You saved me. It’s almost funny. The Metallo Protocol kept me alive. If you can call this living.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lena whispered. “Can I help you? Is there something I could do?”

Kara shook her head, mechanical joints in her neck grinding. “There’s no cure for death, zhao.”

Lena blinked. Zhao? Was that Kryptonian? She wasn’t sure what it meant.

The cold palm fell away from her cheek.

“There must be some way I can help,” said Lena.

“In my world I killed your brother,” said Kara.

“In this world, I did. For her.”

“She loves you.”

Lena flinched. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her and her legs went weak. She had to steady herself on the kitchen island.

“What?”

“Kara. She loves you.”

“How… why do you say that?”

“I have visited thousands of worlds. Thousands of timelines. There are many where you don’t even exist, where I don’t. But in all the ones I’ve found with the both of us, there is one constant: Kara Zor-El loves Lena Luthor. It’s inevitable, it’s like gravity. There is something in all of me that must love you.”

“You’re traveling across dimensions?”

She nodded, closing her one eye. “I’m searching. Before I killed Lex, he used his masterstroke against me. He couldn’t kill me, so he hit me where he could do the most damage. He sent Lena to the Phantom Zone before I ripped his heart out of his chest. Then something happened… the yellow aliens told me there was a crisis, a multiversal collapse that split the phantom zone into infinite shards.”

“Yes, the Crisis, but there should be only one Earth now. Your world should have been merged with ours.”

Kara sighed, a broken, pained rasp. “What happens when you subtract infinity from infinity?”

Lena frowned. “I see.”

“I know she’s out there. I can feel her. I thought your world might be the one, but there’s another me here, and the wrong you.”

“I hope you find her.”

“Thank you. May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead” said Lena.

“Do you love her?”

Lena didn’t need to ask who she meant. She felt a lump form in her throat even as her chest fluttered. This cold broken wreckage of another Kara stared into her as if to parse the strands of her soul.

“Yes,” said Lena.

Kara edged closer. “Then tell her. Please. Don’t make her wait. She’s too scared to tell you. She’s like all of us- she’s so afraid of her own strength that she won’t hold anyone truly close for fear she’ll crush them. She’s afraid of losing you, or losing you again. She’s lost everything. Her world, her people, her culture, two mothers and two fathers- there is so much grief in her that it could freeze a newborn star but you, you are the light that shines in the darkness. You are her red sunrise.”

Lena said nothing, fighting the tremble in her lip.

“I must go. She’s out there and I have to keep trying to find her.”

She turned away and Lena caught her arm, gently tugging. She stopped.

“Wait?”

Kara turned back to her, and Lena darted in close and pressed a soft kiss to her cold lips.

“What?” Kara blurted.

“For luck. You’re going to find her.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

Lena now pressed a palm to Kara’s cheek.

“You will. You’re Supergirl. You can do anything.”

Kara smiled with half a face and pulled free, activating a device on her belt. A portal opened before her, filling the penthouse with blazing light. She stepped through and was gone.

Lena stumbled to the sofa and collapsed onto it, hugging herself as the tears flowed.

A few moments later, the familiar sound of stacked heels thudded on her balcony and the door slid open.

Kara, her Kara, swept into the penthouse, frantic.

“Lena, what happened? I saw that flash. I was out on patrol and… are you crying?”

Kara knelt beside her and brushed her hair back from her eyes with her soft warm hand and said, “Baby, are you okay?”

Lena looked at her, really looked at her, and was simply overwhelmed. There was so much depth in her blue eyes, so much kindness and compassion and love.

“I am now,” said Lena.

Kara blinked a few times. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

“I promise I’m tell you someday, but first I have to ask you something.”

“Ask,” said Kara. “Anything you want, you know that.”

Lena curled a finger around Kara’s chin and watched her eyes widen, first in confusion and then in nervous anticipation as Lena bent towards her and tilted her head just slightly to press their lips together.

At first Kara didn’t react and Lena thought she’d made a terrible mistake, but then something in Kara came around and she lunged onto the couch, pressing Lena down to the cushions.

“Lena,” Kara breathed. “What… how… do you… with me?”

Lena hugged her fiercely.

“Stay with me, Kara. That’s what I want. Stay with me.”

“Always.”

[rgwriteshockey]

summer on the lake w/ jack hughes ⇨

jack hughes x reader

summary: jack hughes invites you to spend the summer at his lake house, hoping for a break from hockey life. as you both hang out by the water, kayak, and have late-night talks, you start to feel something more between you. when his brothers, luke and quinn, show up for the weekend, things get even more fun and chaotic. with the relaxed vibe of the house and the laughter of his family, you feel right at home. by the end of the summer, you realize it’s not just the lake house that’s special—it’s the start of something real with jack.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: kinda a slow burn, mild language, and light angst

a/n: my first fic omg!! i am so excited to finally start fic writing. leave any comments or suggestions in the comments and i hope you enjoy! send requests!!

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the warm summer breeze carried the scent of pine and fresh water through the tall trees that surrounded jack hughes' secluded lake house. the new jersey devils star had spent countless summers here in the past, the tranquil escape offering the perfect retreat from the high-paced life of professional hockey. but this summer felt different. with the end of another hard-fought season, jack was ready for a fresh start—a fresh start with you.

you had known jack for a few years now, meeting through a mutual friend, and after spending some time together last summer, the two of you had grown closer. it wasn’t a traditional friendship—at times it felt like something more, but neither of you had ever said anything. you had a comfortable bond, one that came easily, filled with laughter and late-night talks, but both of you had been hesitant to cross that line.

when jack had invited you up to his lake house for the summer, you had been hesitant at first. the idea of being stuck with one of the most successful player in the nhl in an isolated house on a lake sounded like something out of a dream, but you couldn’t help the anxiety creeping up in the pit of your stomach. what if things changed between you? what if that easy comfort was lost when there were only the two of you, day after day?

but there you were, standing in front of the house now, watching jack unloading his car from the deck. the lake sparkled in the distance, surrounded by the dense woods, making the place feel like a hidden paradise. the nerves settled a little as you spotted jack smiling at you from the front porch, a carefree, relaxed expression that you hadn’t seen in a while.

"hey," jack called, waving his hand as he jogged over. "you're here!"

you smiled, grateful for the ease he carried with him. "yeah, finally. this place is amazing."

"right? i love it here," jack replied, his voice full of pride. "it’s the perfect spot to relax, you know?"

as he dropped your bags onto the porch and ushered you inside, you could already feel the stress of your daily life start to dissipate. the house was exactly as you remembered it—a mix of rustic charm and modern comfort, with large windows that looked out over the lake. it felt like an oasis.

"can i get you something to drink? we’ve got everything stocked," jack asked, already digging through the kitchen. "want a beer or something? or i’ve got some iced tea."

"iced tea sounds perfect," you answered, setting your things down on the couch. jack returned with two glasses, handing you one as you both settled into the cozy living room.

"i’m glad you came up," jack said quietly, a little more serious than usual. "i know it’s kind of a big ask, but i think we’ll have a good time."

you nodded, taking a sip of the cold, sweet iced tea. "i’m glad i came, too."

jack leaned back on the couch, his usual relaxed posture taking over again. he looked comfortable, at ease, but there was something else in his eyes—a curiosity that hadn’t been there before. it was like he was waiting for something to shift.

"so, what do you think?" jack asked after a moment. "it’s just you and me here for the next couple of weeks, and i figure we should make the most of it."

"i think that sounds amazing," you replied with a smile. "what do you usually do when you’re here?"

"oh, you know," jack said with a grin. "i swim, kayak, go for a run in the mornings. but i’m sure we can find something fun to do. i’m open to whatever."

you both laughed, and for a moment, the nerves melted away. you were here for an adventure, and you were sure it would be the kind of summer you’d never forget.

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the next few days passed in a blur of sunshine, cool drinks, and lazy afternoons by the water. jack had shown you the lake, introducing you to his favorite spots—the hidden cove, the cliff that overlooked the vast expanse of blue. you had spent hours kayaking, the two of you racing to see who could get to the other side of the lake first, only to laugh when you both ended up falling into the water anyway. there were nights by the fire pit, roasting marshmallows and telling stories, the stars overhead so bright they seemed like they could touch you. the days were simple and full of joy, but something was starting to linger in the air, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

it was on one of those lazy afternoons when the tension finally broke. jack had invited you for a walk down a trail near the lake, the sound of the water rippling beside you as you walked side by side in comfortable silence.

"this place is really special to me," jack said softly, his voice almost lost in the rustling of the trees.

"i can tell," you said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "it’s beautiful here. i can see why you love it so much."

jack glanced over at you, his expression a little more serious than usual. "it’s more than just the place. it’s like... i can just be myself here. no pressure, no distractions. just peace."

you nodded, unsure of how to respond to that, the weight of his words hanging between you. there was something intimate about what he had said, something raw. you had always seen jack as this happy-go-lucky hockey player with an easy smile and carefree attitude, but in that moment, you saw another side of him—one that longed for simplicity and connection.

"you know," jack continued, stopping in his tracks and turning to face you, "there’s something i’ve been meaning to say for a while now."

your heart skipped a beat. was this the moment? was he about to say what you’d both been dancing around since you’d gotten here? before you could open your mouth to ask, jack’s phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting off the moment.

"sorry," he said quickly, checking the screen. "it’s just my brother. he’s probably asking if i’m going to show up for the family bbq this weekend."

"don’t worry about it," you said, a little disappointed but understanding. "you should probably get back to him."

jack hesitated for a second, staring at his phone with an unreadable expression before slipping it back in his pocket. "actually, maybe i’ll just forget it for a bit," he said, a playful grin returning to his face. "we’re here. let’s enjoy the moment."

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later that week, jack’s brothers—luke and quinn—showed up for the weekend, bringing a whole new dynamic to the lake house. you had met them a few times before, but never in such a relaxed, laid-back environment. luke, the youngest brother, was full of energy, constantly trying to get jack to do something competitive, while quinn, the eldest, was a bit more reserved but just as charming in his own way. the house was suddenly buzzing with the chaos of their arrival.

"finally, you invited us up here!" luke said, tossing a bag on the porch and giving jack a playful shove. "figured we’d have to track you down to get some family time."

jack grinned, rolling his eyes. "you guys are lucky i actually like having you here."

"yeah, yeah, i’m sure," luke shot back, raising an eyebrow. "where’s your friend, though? didn’t think you'd come up here without them."

you stood a little awkwardly on the porch, unsure of how to respond, but jack gave you a quick glance and then a reassuring smile.

"they’re inside," jack said, nodding toward the door. "you’ll meet them soon enough."

"nice," luke said, his voice full of sarcasm. "we’ll give you two a minute, but the bbq is happening, and you can’t miss quinn’s famous ribs."

quinn smiled from the porch, his deep green eyes lighting up with a grin. "trust me, you’ll want to be there. nobody does ribs like me."

"we’re coming, don’t worry," jack said, clapping quinn on the back as he walked inside to grab a few things. luke followed suit, but you were left standing there for a moment, taking in the sound of the lake and the easy laughter that echoed through the air.

jack’s brothers had this effortless, playful vibe that immediately made you feel comfortable, like you had known them for years. the conversation was light, the jokes were easy, and it felt like family, even though you weren’t technically a part of it—yet.

as the evening went on, the bbq was in full swing, and the tension from earlier in the week seemed to disappear entirely. you found yourself laughing with the three brothers as they tried to one-up each other with ridiculous stories and impromptu challenges. jack’s laughter was contagious, and you couldn’t help but feel more and more at home with each passing hour.

later, after everyone had eaten their fill and the fire was crackling in the pit, you and jack stood by the water, quietly watching the sunset. luke and quinn had disappeared inside, leaving you two alone again.

"how’s it been so far?" jack asked, his voice soft.

"honestly?" you said, turning to look at him. "i didn’t think i’d have this much fun. your brothers are pretty great."

jack smiled, his expression a little more serious than usual. "i’m glad you’re here. they really like you, by the way."

you laughed. "i like them too. they’re... a lot."

"yeah," jack said with a chuckle. "but they’re good guys. and it’s nice to have you here with me. it feels... right."

the air between you shifted again, and for the first time all week, you could feel the distance between you closing. jack’s words were simple, but they carried so much weight. the summer, the lake house, his brothers—it all felt like it was leading to something bigger.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, you turned to jack, the words on the tip of your tongue. this moment, this summer, was something you’d never forget. and, maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something real.

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the summer at jack’s lake house was more than just a vacation. it was a turning point. the days spent by the water, the laughter shared with his brothers, and the quiet moments between you and jack—it all came together, and it felt like the start of something much bigger. something full of possibility. and with each passing day, you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

[florencemtrash]

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part I

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: I had a thought. I wrote it. Here ya go!

Next chapter ->

Y/n leaned back against the motley wall covered in indie movie and band posters 10-layers deep. Humidity caused the paper to lift away from the brick, curling like steam off coffee before being frozen in place by the next slather of paste. Y/n felt the sharp, glue-soaked edges poke through the mesh of her shirt. 

Looking left and right she saw a few stragglers heading towards the club — three girls huddled in fake-fur coats with freshly-shaved legs trembling in the October air, and a group of college boys dressed in the same jeans, sneakers, and pale collared shirts. They flickered in and out of the darkness as the streetlights hummed with the effort of keeping their failing bulbs alight. A handful of skeletal cars sat beside busted parking meters or half-hidden in the employee parking lots of the closed down street. During the day when the restaurants were open, inoffensive jazz battled it out with the reggaeton blaring from the trendy taco joint at the end of the block, and Kpop dancers pressed themselves against the screens posted by the corn dog restaurant’s windows, neon lights announcing that they were “OPEN!” But right now the neon was just another sad shade of grey. Even the sky’s colors were muted by packed clouds threatening rain. 

Music shook the pavement, but it came up from the sub-basement club deep and muffled. Y/n felt its vibrations pass through the soles of her boots, up her stocking-clad legs, and into her chest where her heart rumbled like a car without a muffler. 

A flash of flame revealed her glitter-coated cheeks and cobalt-blue eyeshadow. The color slipped and slid across her skin still tacky from club sweat until it was a pale wash of blue extending up to her temples and down to her cheekbones. A cloud of smoke covered her soon after as she lit her cigarette between nail-bitten fingers. A fresh coat of black polish glittered like stones, already chipping towards the tips. Menthol crisp bled into her lungs along with a breath of cold air perfumed with car exhaust and day old restaurant grease. She licked her lips and found that she did not mind the taste of lip gloss, mint, and char. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy with salt-white hair and shy, bent shoulders slink over to her trying to make himself as small as possible. “Can I bum a cigarette?” He asked, shockingly polite despite the black band t-shirt that read “Anarchy now!” and the careful spikes gelled into his hair and tipped green and black. 

Y/n wordlessly held out her pack and he plucked one out before hesitantly reaching for a second. She held out her lighter next and soon there were two plumes of smoke wafting into the air as music faded in and out with each body that passed through the rusted paint doors. Drunk giggles followed voices hoarse with drink and screaming. Heels clicked down the street, some heavy as a bass drum and others high and piercing like castanets. 

A quick flash of lightning splintered over the sky, followed seconds later by a dull crash like furniture toppling over. 

“One mile,” The boy said, leaning over. He smelled like bleach, aftershave, and surprisingly, cherries. The overly sweet ones that came out of a jar and decorated the tops of ice cream sundaes. 

“What?”

“You can count how far away lightning is from the thunder. Every five seconds between lightning and thunder is one mile.” 

Another flash painted the sky purple followed shortly by crumbled eruptions of noise. 

“That one was close by.” 

Y/n took one last drag before putting out her cigarette on the wall. The paper smoldered and was scarred black, but never burned. “Guess that’s my cue to go back inside then.” 

The boy nodded, smiling and looking her up and down a little too closely. Then his eyes sharpened, red-rimmed and squinting, as he glared into the street beyond her. 

“Do you see that?”  

Y/n twirled around on her heels, staring down the street to where it ended in shadow. It looked… darker than it should, although she couldn’t explain why. Like she stood before the throat of an animal. The darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, muscles clenching down on invisible meat. Then she felt stupid for having listened to him at all. 

“Don’t fuck with me,” she growled, pushing the salt-haired boy aside and slipping back inside the club. 

The music and heady scent of perfumes, cologne, and sweat punched her in the face, and she remembered why she’d chosen to stumble outside to begin with.

She moved in between bodies sparkling like disco balls, stealing body glitter as she went. She felt the tiny particles stick to her skin, tacky with sweat. Someone’s hand brushed against her wrist, but she swatted them off, pressing forward in search of her friends. She didn’t trust them to stay still, not in a place like this, nor did she trust them to check their phones, so she just kept searching the packed dance floor. Raised platforms crowded with plastic couches and spray painted tables hit her at eye level, but none of the platform heels and combat boots looked familiar. She thought a head of red corkscrews might have belonged to Cecelia, but it was only the changing lights reflecting off bleach blond hair. 

She dipped into the corner where a line of scantily clad girls with lanky legs waited for the bathroom. Ducking beneath the overhead speakers helped dull the noise, and if she climbed up two rungs of the barrier surrounding the DJ’s booth like a fighting ring, she could make out more of the crowd. Four stationary spotlights lit up the corners of the club pulsing red, blue, pink, and purple. A man in leopard print briefs was climbing onto one of the poles there, shredding his policeman���s shirt down the center as a woman in a zebra-print coat eagerly shoved a handful of dollar bills into his underwear. A drag king had his hot pink fedora knocked off by a drunk college student stumbling towards the bathrooms with a hand over his mouth. All over there were faint pinpricks of light followed by subtle releases of vape pen air, adding hints of watermelon and strawberry to the air. 

It was because she stood half-hanging off the DJ’s booth that she caught sight of the three men that entered one after another like the mob. Dressed in all black, they were better suited for a funeral than a club, save for one thing… their wings. 

Y/n blinked in confusion. There had been flyers hung up around the library and grocery stores about some anime convention being held in the city, but this place was a little out of the way for hardcore cosplayers. The most severe looking of the three lifted his nose to the air, then stumbled back in shock. As the strobe lights passed over his awe-struck expression, Y/n caught the glint of knives sheathed across his chest and at his side. 

Fuck. She looked up to the booth, but the DJ and the guys in ripped t-shirts bobbing their heads around him didn’t seem to notice. 

“Hey!” She dropped back onto the floor and tapped the shoulder of a barrel-chested man with the word “security” printed over his shirt in all caps. “I think those three guys brought knives in here.” She pointed in their general direction with one chipped, black fingernail. 

“The fuck?!” He gently pushed her aside, shouting something into his earpiece as he shoved his way into the crowd. People took a second to read the sign on his shirt before parting to make way for him. One guy with bright pink hair and studded lips even tried to kiss him on the cheek as he passed. 

Suddenly, this corner of the club didn’t seem so safe anymore. There was a splash of pale light on the floor as a bottle girl in a black leather catsuit slipped out of the kitchens. She swayed her hips back and forth, a bottle of tequila swishing in its frost-rimmed bottle against her hip. She moved up the stairs to the platform where a private bachelor party was going on, heels clicking like beetle wings rubbing together. Y/n slipped into the shadows closer to the kitchens and waited for someone — anyone — to answer the text she’d typed out with shaky fingers. 

Azriel had never heard music like this before. He didn’t even know such a sound could exist. Someone had weaponized the bass tones so it felt like a punch to the gut. A male’s deep voice, grainy and harsh, was indistinguishable from the crashing of cymbals and a strange, high clang that skittered over steady drums like a stone over water. Through layers of sound he could just make out the soft sighs of a female as she tried to tie the chaos together with her voice. 

All around him were sweaty humans decorated in shiny, colorful clothes that sparkled as they spun and jerked about. He stood a head above most, although every so often a male or female in eight-inch heels would pass by at eye level, looking him up and down like he was a meal and they were starving. 

“Hey there handsome.” Someone had found the courage to slink up to Cassian’s side — a male with pupils blown open wide enough to swallow his pale blue irises. There was alcohol on his breath and something else, something sweet and bitter at the same time. The human male smiled, teeth white and straight. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so perfect. He was handsome — wiry and slim with a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the smattering of freckles across his tan skin. “Did you come here alone?” Rhysand and Azriel’s presence did not seem to deter him. “Did you want to leave here alone?”

Cassian sputtered in surprise. He’d never been propositioned by a male, let alone a human one. 

“I’m-I’m a mated male.” 

The male raised his brow, taking full stock of the skin-tight leathers Cassian wore. He took a deep drag of an oddly shaped pipe that lit up in the dark. “Ok. If that’s what you’re into.” A cloud of smoke spilled from his mouth — the source of the sweet and bitter smell on his lips. His eyes slid over to Rhysand, who only smirked and stuck a hand into his pocket. “And you? It doesn’t look like you’re into the leather stuff.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he’d said, looking between Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel like he’d figured out the final piece of the puzzle. He blinked in surprise, tipped back his head, and laughed. He was still laughing as he turned and walked away into the crowd. 

“What the hell was that?” Cassian asked. Azriel shrugged, shaking his head. 

“It’s a strange place we’ve landed in,” Rhysand remarked, although the comment was unnecessary. “I expect the strangeness touches everything here. Even the people.” He marveled at the scene before him. The only comparable place in Prythian was Rita’s, but even that paled in comparison to the sight before him. 

Rita’s was a pleasure house with music and drinks to spare, but everything here was… more. The music was louder, the smells an assault to the senses, and the lights changed every second and made the dancers flicker in and out of existence. Even the people seemed to have more substance to them, more color. 

Azriel loved it.

He loved the uneven floors that sucked at the bottoms of his shoes, the pulsing lights that made his eyes swim, and the sound blaring in his ears that drowned out all other thoughts. And something in the air smelled crisp and sweet to him, despite all the other competing scents that had Cassian and Rhysand wrinkling their nose in distaste. 

He strained his neck to catch better hold of the scent. His shadows clung to his body like children, hiding in the folds of his leathers. This world was not made for them, and they worried that if they strayed too far they would be left behind. 

Amren had warned them that this world was different, that its magic was different. But she hadn’t been here in thousands upon thousands of years. Who was to say what had changed in her absence and what had stayed the same?

Get in. Find what you need. Get out. Had been Nesta’s command before strumming The Harp. That’s how the three brothers had found themselves at the end of a narrow lane with boxes of metal and brick on either side. The club had been a logical next step — it was the only establishment that still whispered of life in the otherwise dead neighborhood. 

One shadow dared to explore the club, slipping past a broad-shouldered man with a scowling face and sniffing at half-full glasses of liquor with bright umbrellas laying against their salt-coated rims. Then it had caught sight of something that had it scurrying back to its master. 

Mate. The lone shadow hissed into Azriel’s ear. Mate. 

Azriel’s fluttering bird heart dove into his stomach, carrying with it all reason and restraint. There was no possible way… no. No? Right? 

Az? Rhysand steadied his brother as he stumbled back. 

She’s here? Azriel breathed. If it weren’t for his powers, Rhysand would never have heard the soft sigh escape Azriel’s lips as he searched the crowd desperately. Azriel tipped his head back, breathing in the comforting scent that held new meaning. My mate. She’s here.

What?!

Azriel ignored Rhys and dove into the crowd, head swiveling this way and that as he tried to find a familiar face he’d never seen before.

Az! Wait! But his brother was gone, and the crowd closed over the empty space he’d left behind like a healing wound. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Rhysand cursed. 

“Hey man! Where did you get your wings? They’re fucking awesome!” A plump male with cornflower blue hair and matching eyeliner piped up from behind Cassian’s back. Cassian whirled around in anger, feeling the ghost of a finger slide down his spine. No one touched his wings without his say. No one. 

The male startled back in fear. Upon seeing Cassian at his full height, he cowered against the wall, clutching a crinkled red cup against his chest. Cassian blinked in surprise. The male was wearing a black and white dress, the starched apron and collar crisp and clean. 

“Someone call the police. Now!” Someone hissed behind him.

“What seems to be the problem?” Rhysand spoke coolly. At the moment Cassian turned back to Rhysand, the maiden-male scuttled away and upstairs into the cold night. Rhysand examined his fingernails, an action that had the guard’s ruddy face turning white as he saw they were armed to the teeth.

The male’s arms hung loose and ready at his sides like two boulders, fists opening and closing slowly. “You guys need to leave. And before you say anything — I don’t give a shit if those weapons are fake or part of some Halloween costume, you can not bring them here.” 

“What fool would carry fake weapons?” Cassian asked seriously. 

The male’s face lost even more color. “Out. Now.” 

“There’s no need for—” Rhysand’s brows shot towards his hairline, violet eyes flickering up like a cat’s. Cassian, I can’t control him. 

His brother’s eyes widened. What do you mean? 

His mind — I can’t get into it. 

He’s only human!

Clearly.

The male moved forward then to grab at the knife hanging from Cassian’s side and on instinct, Cassian swung. His fist met the corner of the male’s jaw cleanly and he sank like a stone, crumbling to the floor. 

A female with glowing white lips nearby let out a strangled shriek, twisting her ankle as she grabbed her friend and sprinted towards the glowing red exit sign. All around her people began taking notice of the guard’s dark shape on the black floor and the two males that hovered over him, knives sparkling in the ever changing lights. 

I had hoped that the humans would not notice, Cassian explained. More alarmed cries erupted around them. He leaned down, carefully checking the male’s pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out cold. 

The music dimmed and then went out completely leaving an empty hole in the air that blew against the back of Cassian’s neck. Overhead lights turned on shortly after, burning with a fluorescence that had everyone hissing in pain. 

Things looked much better in the dark. In the dark no one noticed the sticky stains littering the floor, or the gum wrappers, and plastic straws, and crushed cups; the dusty strobe lights and haphazard paint jobs that left the walls bubbling with air pockets. They were also less likely to notice the three fae in their midst — 6-foot-everything and looking like they stepped out of the world’s most expensive LARPing tournament. It didn’t help that Cassian was kneeling over the man he just rendered unconscious. 

Confusion led to confused panicking, and then plain panic as people began pushing towards the exits in droves. 

I think they noticed. Rhysand looked over the crowd as they fluttered around him, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter anyone’s minds. Not even one. He didn’t like the oily vulnerability that followed, naked and unnerving. 

Cassian slung the unconscious male over his shoulder before he could be trampled beneath pairs of dusty white sneakers and stripper heels. Then it would seem it’s time for us to leave.

Where are you? Azriel cursed at no god in particular. He didn’t know which of them existed in this realm, if any did at all. 

This way. His shadows whispered, urging him towards the back corner of the club.

A battered door swung open and shut to the rhythms of females in skintight leather carrying chilled bottles in their hands. Thousands of signatures had been scrawled against the door in neon paint, and Azriel watched one of the females sign her name — Ava — in bright orange before kissing the door and slipping inside to grab another bottle. 

Just to the right of the door stood another female in ripped stockings. Bright blue glitter painted her eyes and cheeks. She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, playing with a hole in her sleeve as she held a shiny black box up to her ear. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY LEFT?! I’M THE DESIGNATED DRIVER!” She yelled into the box. Her eyes kept shifting over the club. Her lipstick, already blurred from time and dancing, smeared further as she bit her lip. A swipe of her sleeve on her cheek left a faint trail of plum-colored lipstick. She slammed her finger down on the box and for one moment, the glow it let off shot across her eyes. She looked close to tears. 

Azriel froze, feeling a pressure in his chest tighten and then burst apart. He felt her fear — her anger at being abandoned by her so-called friends. It was more overwhelming than the music. If it weren’t for the thin crowd of strangers in front of him blocking his path, he might have dropped to his knees and crawled to her. 

Mate. The bond sang in his chest. Mate. 

Screams broke through the music, high and panicked, and the magic of the moment crashed all around him. The darkness broke, harsh white light colliding with them and rendering the glitters and colors the humans adorned pale and lifeless. But not his mate. She sparkled brighter in the resulting chaos, eyes narrowing in a dare as she caught Azriel staring. She was a prey animal ready to bolt. A worm preparing to turn and reveal its teeth. 

Sharp cracks of plastic on linoleum rattled the ground as leather-clad women sprinted for the kitchen door brandishing empty bottles like weapons. Y/n raced after them. 

The door flapped shut behind her before Azriel had the sense to move his feet and follow, calling out, “Wait! Please!” 

He was doing this very poorly. He knew better than to chase a female like this. Sickness twisted in his stomach as he slammed into metal doors and ran through hallways crowded with glass bottles, aluminum cans, and wrinkly lemons stacked precariously in wooden crates. 

To your right. A shadow whispered in his ear.

Azriel slid to a stop in front of a heavy metal door, its edges frosted over with cold. 

It locks from the outside.

Azriel ripped the door off its hinges and was blasted in the face by a wave of cold. Frigid air curled out of the edges of the room and slithered over the floor like smoke. A young female in a pink tutu yelped in surprise and dove for the corner of the room, hiding behind racks of beer bottles. It wasn’t his mate. 

She was just a frightened female who’d hidden in the fridge, not knowing she was trapping herself in the process. 

“Here.” Azriel said, quickly ripping a coat off the wall hook and tossing it towards her. She reached for it with shaking hands and lips, mumbling out a confused “Thank you?” as Azriel turned and hurried away. The door was no more. She could walk out of the freezer whenever she pleased now. 

Azriel chased after his mate’s scent, stumbling through grey, blank hallways that belonged to the insurance company next door. He strained his ears to hear the tell-tale pounding of her boots, but came up empty. A dull red light told Azriel to “EXIT” as he pushed against a door groaning from rust and disuse. 

He was outside once again, breathing in car exhaust and restaurant refuse.

And something sweet. 

He heard the rush of air a second too late. 

A bottle slammed into the side of his face, cracking and cutting his skin. Tequila washed over the wounds. It burned like a bitch. 

Azriel didn’t let out a groan of pain, but he did stumble, landing on his right knee with a twinge of soreness.

The female — his mate — stared at him in horror as blood began to pool at his temple and drip down the line of his jaw. She held the shattered neck of the bottle in her hands. Her shoes were gone, toes curling against the pavement with cold. 

Gods, she was beautiful. 

Cassian was a blur of movement, knocking the bottle out of her hand and wrapping his arms around her arms. She screamed, squatting down before shooting back up and locking her knees. The top of her head slammed into Cassian’s nose. A brutal, bloody crack had Cassian stumbling back, gripping his nose.

“FUCK!” He swore. 

She whipped around and sprayed a mist in his eyes that had him cursing like a madman and slapping the palms of his hands over his eyes. 

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” 

Rhysand stepped forward and cornered her against the wall. Violet eyes glittered with something bordering fury and amusement. 

“No.” Azriel moved between Rhys and his mate before she could spray him too. “No one touches her.” 

Rhys backed up immediately. This is her?

It’s her. 

He could hear her heartbeat quicker than a rabbit as she flattened herself against the wall, holding her spray out in warning. Cassian moaned in annoyance, wiping the tears that kept leaking out of his eyes.

I do not like the humans in this world. Cassian complained, sniffling. Even his nose burned.

As if Nesta wouldn’t have done this given the chance. Rhysand said. 

…I see your point. Cassian muttered. 

Be careful around this one. 

Because she’s a menace?

Rhysand smirked, flicking dust off the sleeve of his jacket. Because she’s Azriel’s mate.

Cassian straightened. His eyes darted back and forth between Rhysand, the blood dripping from Azriel’s head, and the human female. 

Oh. Cassian thought, suddenly embarrassed. We have… not made a good first impression. 

You think?! Azriel all but growled. 

Her fight or flight response was running out — her energy draining. She could feel it in her leaden limbs and the faint slowing of her heartbeat as the three men kept looking around like they were seeing each other for the first time. 

And they kept looking at her in mixtures of shock, concern, and — surprisingly — affection. 

What sick fuckery is this? She dug her fingernails into the brick, searching for cracks like she might be able to pull out a piece and throw it at them, or find some hidden portal through the wall and back into the safety of the inside. 

Were they going to kidnap her? Was she about to be shoved into a bag and tossed into some dingy trunk? But then why the wings? It was too dark to see them in their entirety, but they looked meticulous and expensive and very memorable — not ideal for kidnapping. Was this a LARPING thing? Were they Satanists? Was that how this worked?

The one in front turned. The one she’d attacked with a bargain bottle of tequila. The blood had stopped flowing and darkened against his tan skin. Hazel eyes, bright and piercing as a copper penny, looked out from a face made of elegant, serious lines. His was not a face that smiled often, beautiful as it was. The burly, rugged one looked like he was made for laughing. Smile lines gently graced his cheeks and temples. But maybe those were scars. He sported many of them, like pale whiskers over his skin. The third was the most put together of the three. Instead of strange, leather armor, he wore a suit of velvet over something stiff and protective that hugged his trim waist and broad shoulders, and his eyes were violet, not hazel. 

The elegant, unsmiling one coughed awkwardly, shifting to hide his wings. Shockingly, they slid closed behind his back, the movement so smooth it looked real. 

“I am…” His voice was a deep, gentle caress. “I am so very sorry. I did not mean to frighten you as I did. Please, forgive me.” He was… alarmingly polite, and his accent was… pleasant, although impossible to place — all soft rolls of the tongue complimented by the rich timbre of his voice. “ Please.” He spoke the last word quietly, urgently. 

Y/n said nothing. Her arm was beginning to get sore from holding out the bottle of pepper spray. Although, it can’t have been that effective if the rugged one was already recovered. Maybe it had expired without her realizing? 

“My name is Azriel,” the man spoke again quickly and gently. Even his name sounded odd. “And this is Cassian—” He pointed to the burly one,“And Rhysand.” The last of the men tilted his head in a mock bow. 

“A pleasure.” The violet-eyed one said. Rhysand’s voice was weighed down with sultry charm. He purred the words more than spoke them. 

“Pleasure,” Cassian copied, gruff but kind. 

Y/n remained silent. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. The pretty one — Azriel — stepped forward and pulled out a sleek, small blade from the belt about his waist. Y/n was about to spray him in the face when he twisted the blade so that the handle faced her.

“This will do more damage than the little bottle you carry,” he promised. “I hope this will make you more trusting of me. I swear to do you no harm. I’ll even make a bargain, if it would make you trust me long enough to explain.” His wings twitched nervously and Y/n found she couldn’t draw her eyes away from them and how real they looked. 

The three men kept looking at each other furtively. Conversations, complex and unknowable, hide in every twitch of their eyes.

“Speak out loud,” Azriel snarled at them finally. “You’re frightening her.” 

Rhysand smiled apologetically at the female. “We need to leave. Now. You can hear the humans coming as well as I can.” 

Y/n bristled at that, and a detached feeling of horror came over her. “Are you not… are you not human?” 

Cassian gawked at her, speaking his wings out far and wide. “Do the humans of this world have wings?” 

She sputtered to answer, fear giving way to curiosity. Azriel took advantage of that, moving close enough that he slid the blade into her hand. It was a cool, welcome weight against her hot, sweaty skin. Up close she saw he had freckles dotting the high corners of his cheeks and that his hair came alive with dark tendrils of smoke that wafted off his skin like steam. They wrapped around her and she heard their strange whispers in her ears like white noise. 

“We’re not human. We’re not even from this world.” The sirens were only a block away now and Azriel swore beneath his breath. More of those dark tendrils shot out like shadows and dulled the noises of incoming fire trucks, cop cars, and EMTs. “I swear to you that I will explain more, but we must go. Please.” He took hold of her wrist, angling the blade he’d given her right beneath his last rib. 

It was a dramatic declaration — if she wanted to kill him and run away, he would let her. 

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind thick with fog and the dying embers of adrenaline. “I—I parked a few blocks down that way. I can take us somewhere else.” 

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and she pulled away from him, taking with her any shred of comfort he’d felt since coming to this world. 

Somehow they managed to walk the quarter of a mile to her car without being stopped once by another living soul. She suspected it had to do with the shadows that now poured off of Azriel’s skin and trailed after her. She could feel them licking at her heels like curious dogs… or blood thirsty wolves. 

She gripped the knife tightly in her hand, stretching her fingers to wrap around the steering wheel as she drove through familiar roads on autopilot. Azriel watched her curiously as she stopped at a red light and clicked her blinker on. 

None of the men looked comfortable squished into her tiny sedan, wings tucked in so tight they cramped. Cassian’s boot was stretched out on the center console, almost reaching the gear shift. Rhysand was hunched over in the back seat, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the headrest in front of him to keep from getting sick. 

“What is this cursed thing?” He grumbled, then promptly shut up when Y/n took them down a local road with craters that had them jolting and jerking for a mile. “This metal box… I do not like it.” 

Azriel and Cassian ignored their brother. Az was too busy paying attention to his mate and politely explaining the complexity of their situation, and Cassian was too busy looking out the window at the houses that passed by. He could hear the unfamiliar hum of electricity like a dragonfly's wings. 

By the time she pulled the sedan down a beaten road to a quiet, homely one-bedroom house, her mind was swimming with words and phrases she could barely string together — Koschei, fae, Illyrians, seers. It was worse than when she’d spent two all-nighters cramming for an exam in college fueled by nothing but Red Bull and desperation. 

Before the keys were even out of the ignition, Rhysand was spilling out of the car and breathing in gasps of clean, woodsy air. Gravel crunched under his feet. Once this road had been paved, but time and weather had broken up the asphalt until only chunky black rocks remained. Green grass, not yet killed off by Autumn frost, grew in uneven tufts up to Y/n’s squat, brown-sided house, skirting around the makeshift garden in the backyard before disappearing into the woods beyond. Neighboring homes inched as close as they could to the main road, half-submerged in golden brown trees that trembled in the wind. 

The porch steps creaked, flexing in the center like backs ready to break, but they’d recently been cleaned and painted over with a fresh coat of white. The front door had been given similar treatment, although it was painted green. A small Autumn wreath hung from a nail. 

Y/n fumbled with the keys, fingers shaking and numb from the cold. 

“Here,” Azriel murmured, gently taking them from her. His shadows could have unlocked the front door in less than a second, but he was in no mood to test his mate’s patience and understanding. The fact that she’d driven them to her home in the dead of night was testament to the uneasy trust she’d placed in them. 

A disgruntled meow greeted them as they filed into the short and narrow entryway. Cassian bumped into the entry dresser with his wings and nearly jumped out of his skin when the dark monstrosity that sat by a ceramic dish full of rings hissed. 

It was the fattest cat Cassian had ever seen. 

Acidic yellow-green eyes narrowed at him, as if sensing his judgment, and the cat’s whiskers twitched along with its pink button nose. 

“Jefferson, be nice.” Y/n reprimanded the cat, scooping up its rotund body into her arms. The cat swatted her shoulder once, then consented to being held. He did not like strangers in his house, even if they were Y/n’s guests. “This is Jefferson.” She looked behind her back to the rest of the house. “And this is my home.” 

She busied herself preparing for her unexpected guests. She scoured the bathroom closet for spare toothbrushes, towels, and lotions, and pulled out the thickest blankets she could find. One person could sleep on the pull out couch, the other two would have to fight for the best spot on the floor. 

Azriel watched her as she moved. It was not a large house — it was barely even a cottage — and it took his shadows a short time to familiarize themselves with your home. 

A lumpy couch, wicker armchair, and coffee table made up the living room, tied together by a retro rug that may have once been white, but was now a respectable beige. Four mismatched chairs huddled around a scratched wooden table near the kitchen, one of which carried a stuffy cushion that held the imprint of Jefferson’s soft body. 

The cat watched them from the kitchen counter with its piercing eyes, and did not seem at all concerned when a stray shadow wound around its tail. 

Pathetic. All of them! Were the cat’s thoughts. Master will not like this.

His eyes did soften when Y/n returned from her bedroom, arms heavy with blankets and sheets and pillows. Azriel quickly relieved her of her burden, promising that they’d spent nights in worse conditions than a heated house with bedding and clean floors. 

She seemed charmed by that and almost smiled. Almost.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, and the bathroom’s by the front door. I’ve already put some toothbrushes and towels in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Azriel said softly, tilting his head in a faint bow. His brothers followed suit before busying themselves laying out blankets and pillows like they’d done this a thousand times before — which they had. 

Y/n nodded curtly and swept a judgmental Jefferson into her arms before disappearing into her room. Azriel heard the lock click into place and the rummaging of drawers as she pulled out an extra can of pepper spray, a pair of scissors, and the three knives she’d taken from the kitchen. She bolted her windows and drew the curtains closed and even stuffed a towel into the space beneath her doors just in case.  

She was meticulous and careful despite her generosity, and Azriel found himself smitten at her resourcefulness. 

Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep, Az. Cassian grumbled. He could feel the longing dripping off of Azriel’s shoulders. She’ll feel more comfortable if she knows we’re asleep. 

How much would you like to bet she kills us in the night? Rhysand asked, and then seemed amused by the prospect of it. 

I’d worry more about the cat. Cassian chuckled. Then he turned over onto his stomach and was out like a light. Centuries spent in war camp barracks and makeshift battlefield tents had taught him to steal sleep wherever and whenever he could. 

Rhysand was quick to follow suit, although centuries as a High Lord had pampered him just a little. 

Azriel stayed awake, waiting to hear your heartbeat and breathing slow to a comfortable pace. But it never happened. Not even as the sunlight trickled in and touched the light-bleached floors. 

Next chapter ->

[novemberheart]

{overview} your pack comes back…. it's not a happy ending for everyone though

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly141, cursing, fighting, intimidation, Simon and Kyle both pop off in this chapter, mentions of torture and violence, threatening, protective boy

Chapter 17 <- Chapter 18 -> Chapter 19

Today was the first day you had nothing planned. Just you and your thoughts. You slept in till noon until you decided to get up and make some pancakes. The boys had fully stocked all of your favorite things before they left. You had no business being in the cafeteria without them- Johnny's words, not yours.

It was kinda nice actually. You’re not sure if you've ever had a full day to yourself your whole life. You dragged your desk chair outside on the patio to eat your pancakes. You even made friends with a pigeon. When you went back inside you decided to look up yoga tutorials on TV. Couldn't hurt to be flexible, could it?

It was a new feeling of freedom. You didn't have to worry about any housemate or watch yourself to make sure you weren't a disturbance. You could play music and sing as loud as you wanted. You could learn a new dance. Try a new recipe. Or you could just sleep all day and no one would be able to judge you.

You decided on a bubble bath.

It was that time of night again. Choosing between who's room you wanted to crash in. Your eyes darted back and forth between Kyle and Johnny’s room. Yet there was a tingling sensation at the base of your neck at the thought of John’s room. He never gave you explicit permission and you had never slept in there before.

But he doesn't seem like the type to get mad at you for that. Maybe in two days, your scent will wear off and he won't even notice you slept in it. You were on high alert like a bandit about to be caught. Your knees nearly crumbled as you opened the door to his room. His scent permeated into every surface, your eyes lulling closed. You shook yourself awake, making your way over to his bed. There was a jitteriness about you, the flesh under your skin buzzing. Something wasn't right. It wasn't cozy enough. You huffed back to your room grabbing pillows and an extra blanket, getting to work.

You kept John's pillows against the headboard and added one of yours to the side of the bed against the wall and one on the other side so you would be cocooned in the middle. His blanket and top sheet were pulled tightly against the bed and you tried your hardest to climb in without disrupting them. You folded your blanket and laid it down on the edge of the bed, so your cold feet would have a few extra layers. You held your jellyfish close to you and nuzzled your way under the covers.

Heaven. That was the closest way to describe it. You were quite proud of the nest you had made, well John did help- unknowingly. You gasped softly, your eyes snapping open.

A nest. You had made a nest.

You had only ever done it in your heat and when you did it then you had no materials to work with. You have heard that some omegas nest even when they aren't in heat. Happy ones at least. You grinned curling up on your stomach, your face melted against his pillow.

“You smell that?” John asked, stepping inside. They carefully putting their bags by the door, trying to not alarm you. Johnny groaned from behind him.

“Happy girl,” he commented. The tightness and anxiety his body was storing slowly ebbed away at the smell. He knew that scent. It was extra strong when you were sleeping since you weren't able to hold anything back. He could picture you in his head, curled up against his chest, a sleepy smile on your face with very little awareness of your surroundings. Your soft skin twitching under his rough hands, warm from absorbing his body heat. Your warm peachy scent developing an undertone of cinnamon and spice from his. It sent a shiver up his spine, the hair on his arms standing up.

“Go take a shower. You'll get time with her in the morning.” John yawned. He made his way to your bedroom with the intent to check up on you, only to realize his door was open. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly and he could make out a rather apparent lump on his bed. Although you wouldn't take up that much room. He snuck over a smile etched on his face. Warmth spread through his body at the sight before him. You were comfortable enough to not only sleep in his bed, but make a nest out of it. The overwhelming urge to crawl in there with you made his shoulders twitch.

He quickly made his way out of the bedroom, making his way to Johnny’s bathroom. He didn't want the sound of water to startle you and he couldn't climb into bed with you stinking like he did.

“She nested,” John spoke peeling off his clothes.

“She did? In her bed?”

“No, mine,” John clarified quickly.

“Great, now it's going to smell like horny, pompous alpha in here.” Johnny groaned, scrubbing at his scalp, making room for the broad alpha under the running water.

He picked the clothes out of his closet quietly. It was about time he used his training for good.

“Sweetheart,” he greeted. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of those claws if you got scared. He’s seen the damage they could cause. Your eyes opened harshly, making him wince.

“You’re back?” you couldn't quite believe it. They weren't supposed to be back for another two days. You pushed yourself out of bed, your fingers holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Why are you back? Is everything okay?”

He hummed in assurance.

“We were able to finish up early,” he explained. “Came back as soon as possible.”

The truth was everything was different. They were different. The team had always been “the best of the best”, but with the addition of you, they had turned practically untouchable. It was easier to move, easier to think, and most importantly they had a reason to get home. It might've just been luck, but they knew instinctively there was a change- a natural one. Their bodies transforming into vessels to protect and provide for you. It has been that way forever, consequently why the government has always taken advantage of this evolution. That didn't matter now.

“Is Johnny back?” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Yes. He's tired though, already crashed,” it was a lie, one he was hoping you wouldn't investigate. It wasn't that he wanted to keep Johnny from you, he wanted to keep you from Johnny. He knew the Scot would get you curled up in his arms before John could blink. It was his turn to have you. “Let's get you back to sleep, pretty girl,” John sighed, setting you back down in the bed, and tucking the sheets tight around you once again. He crawled in next to you, his arms wrapping around you trapping you against his chest. You nuzzled your way closer, a now familiar warmth spreading throughout your body. You were safe.

“So happy you're back,” you mumbled, already growing tired again.

“Me too,” he whispered, keeping his lips pressed against your temple.

“Is it okay that I nested here?”

“Course. I'd be happy to leave it if you wanted. I know you like to cuddle with the betas, but I wouldn't mind being worked into that routine,” he chuckled as you smiled against his chest.

You squealed as you were picked up and spun around. Johnny held his grasp on you as he flopped down on the couch, you perched atop of him. You leaned down peppering his face with kisses.

“Thank you for not being gone too long,” you smiled against his cheek.

“Had to get back home to our girl,” he purred, flipping you on the couch so you were under him. His blue eyes were sparking, making you feel a bit nervous. He was inspecting you. “Can I?” he asked softly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Please,” you whispered. He wasted no time connecting the distance. You were a bit unsure what to do. All your kisses with John had been little pecks.

“Relax, hen. Follow my lead,” he murmured, making your lips tickle. You did and once you found your rhythm you didn't want to pull away. Your hands clasped behind his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He chuckled against you, his smile interrupting the kiss. “Knew you’d get addicted,” he smirked.

“You’re right, come back,” you murmured, pulling him back down. He gasped but quickly regained his footing, hoping to keep you occupied long enough for the burning of his cheeks to disappear. He wasn’t used to someone so responsive. Eight times out of ten he had to instigate physical contact, but you were so accepting and matched his effort. You whined as he growled against you, pulling away before it all became too much. He chuckled against you as you panted, kissing across your cheek stopping just below your ear.

“Thought about you a lot you know. It was hard, especially at night. You were alright here by yourself, aye?” he questioned, his eyes softened to a point that it made your breath hitch.

“I was alright, Tavy,” you assured, resting your forehead against each other.

“Peaches, I need to tell you something”-

The door sprung open. The words “I love you” getting caught in his tongue.

“There you boys are,” John was the first to greet them. You shimmied out from under Johnny and he let you, watching as you nearly tackled Kyle to the ground.

The force of it knocked Kyle back into Simon.

You growled as all you got were scent blockers instead of fresh linen.

“I know, lovie, I know,” Kyle soothed. “Fuck,” he groaned, your scent hitting him like a tidal wave.

“Steady yourself,” John chuckled. You wormed yourself away from Kyle and wrapped your arms around Simon. He ran his hands up and down your back and you gave him one last squeeze before pulling away- not wanting to push it. “You’re both good?” John hummed, his hands resting on Kyle's shoulders. Kyle dived in for a hug and John quickly reciprocated, the feeling of finally being home settling in. You figured it was time to allow them some privacy and so you bounded into your room to change out of your sleep clothes.

“Can I talk to you two?” you questioned, closing the patio door behind you. They were having a smoke. Simon hummed in acknowledgment putting the cigarette out so you wouldn't be forced to breathe it it in such a small space.

“Something wrong?” John asked, putting his cigar out as well.

“Not really, but something happened while you two were away and I think you should know about it,” you explained hesitantly. They shared a look, before Simon nodded his head towards the inside. You took the hint as he opened the door for you. It wasn't that you didn't want the betas to know, you just felt that the alphas would want to be the first to know. “I went out with Priya one day”-

“Who’s that?” Simon interjected. John looked over, smacking him with his leg.

“Let ‘er talk,” he directed.

“I met her at that breakfast in the park thing. We have hung out a few times,” it was partially a lie. “Anyways, we were trying to figure out what to do and she said that the hospital had a rec center so we went there.” You paused trying to get a gauge on them. Their faces were like stone. You began losing the confidence you had.

“Go on,” John encouraged, his voice soft.

“Well she left to go to the bathroom quickly, and it was right across the hall. Then this doctor came over and he thought I was a freelance healer so he grabbed me and”-

“Grabbed you?” Simon interjected again.

“Where?” John pressed. You tucked your arm into your sweatshirt, pulling the hem up to show them the bruise on your upper arm. It had faded a decent amount since the incident, but there were still greenish-yellow fingerprints.

“Name,” John commanded.

“I'm not done,” you asserted. They were stiff in their seats now, John was trying his hardest to be level-headed. How many times did they have to prove not to fuck with you? This had been one of the reasons they were so unsure about an omega to begin with. “He grabbed me and put me into a room, with two”-

Simon stood up, heading towards his room to collect one of his balaclavas. He and John couldn't just stay home after this information.

“Simon, keep it together,” John snapped, his eyes still trained on you. He knew nothing too bad could've happened to you. You were fine last night- fuckin’ glowing actually.

“One was an alpha I had never seen before, the other was a beta. The beta that had attacked me by the water fountain.” John’s breath hitched and you could feel Simon stiffen from behind you. “He apologized and begged me not to hurt him,” you nearly chuckled. “I know that you two handled it- obviously, but he was talking about Lieutenant Hale,” you peaked over your shoulder at Simon. He had his back turned to you, his head facing the wall. “He wanted something with me- the beta didn't know what. I'm sure you both know much more than I do, I just wanted to let you know,” you finished.

“Thank you”-

“Thank you?” Simon snapped. “You’re on house arrest,” Simon growled pointing at you.

“What?!” you exclaimed, standing up yourself. “I'm not a child, Simon. You can't do that.”

“Like fuckin’ hell I can't. Until you can learn to not be abducted, attacked, or threatened by bloody strangers you're not leaving this fuckin’ flat,” he snarled.

“John, do something, please,” you begged, turning to John.

“I agree with him.” John sighed. “Not for long but until we figure out strategies to keep you safe,” he reasoned.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you sputtered. “It's not my fault these things are happening,” you shot back.

“No one is saying that”-

“Simon just did! He said and I quote “Until you can learn to not be..” he blames me!” you recalled.

“It's not forever,” John continued, trying to diffuse the situation. “Your incidents happen when you are left completely alone. We just need to make sure you're not”-

“You can't do that. You two have enough control over me as it is!” you spat. “I know it's the destiny of an omega to be under the pack's thumb all the time, but this is ridiculous and I think probably illegal.”

“Now I know it may feel like that at times but we do it to protect you,” John said.

“Not that it's working,” Simon grumbled.

“Fuck you, Simon,” you growled. You couldn't believe the turn of events. Just yesterday you had your hand down your pants thinking about them and today you didn't even want to be in the same room. You wished the betas were here. You wished you never said anything. Simon's deep chuckle made you falter. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, as he raised a hand to his mouth to stop the sudden onslaught. “Are you laughing?” you muttered.

Truth be told he has never enjoyed you more than right now. You, of all people, cursing at him with complete rage. Even now, your face scrunched in confusion and lingering anger, your whole being flushed with a beautiful heated glow.

“Alright, pup. You proved yourself. You're still on house arrest but just till we go on leave. Then hopefully people will have moved on to some new drama by the time we get back.” He sighed, heading towards the front door, John following close behind. Leave was scheduled for three days from now.

“Wait, are we still fighting or not?” you questioned slowly.

“I can keep going,” Simon smirked.

“No,” you replied a bit dumbfounded.

“Did I win? I feel like I won,” you mumbled, the adrenaline slowly wearing off.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, pup. Come on, let's go get dinner.”

“What is happening?” you murmured, beginning your trek to the door.

A knock on his office door caused him to raise his head. He flinched at the sound, harsh against the silent hallway.

“Come in,” he sighed, spinning his chair around to face the door. The door opened slowly and the reveal had him shooting up from his chair.

“Dr. Malcolm?” Kyle clarified. Johnny followed behind him, shutting and locking the door. “Easy, mate,” Kyle soothed his hands extending forward. “Just here to ask a few questions,” Kyle offered a smile, sitting down in one of the other office chairs. “At least I am. That one over there is still a bit worked up,” Kyle chuckled, nodding his head towards the Scot leaning against the door. The glint in his eyes was heart-stopping and Kyle’s relaxed nature only added to the uneasiness in the air. “Now we heard her side of it and we saw what happened on the cameras but I think it’s only fair if we heard your side of it before making any rash decisions,” Kyle explained. “Right, Soap?”

“There’s a lot riding on your answers. That’s for sure, doc,” Johnny spoke.

“He’s right. I imagine it being hard to do your job missin’ a few fingers, yeah?” Kyle hummed. The doctor was leaning against his desk now, knees too weak to do anything else.

“I'm not afraid of you, punks,” Dr. Malcolm managed. Kyle winced.

“Strike one,” Kyle tsked, as Johnny took a few steps forward. Dr. Malcolm quickly held his hands up, shaking his head profusely.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Alright. I made a mistake. We get freelance omegas from holding housing all the time to help with healing. I just assumed she was one of them. Honest mistake,” Dr, Malcolm sputtered, his hand still surrendering.

“That’s interesting,” Kyle sighed, coming to a stand, his broad shoulders blocking most of the light from Dr. Malcolm's frame. “Because to me, an honest mistake would you be askin’ her if she was a freelance omega. Her saying ‘no’. You takin’ that ‘no’ as an answer and going about your day. Not you dragging her down the hallway as she fights against you. Your fingers leaving bruises on our girl's arm,” Kyle finished. “You get that, right?”

The reasons behind why they wanted to take his fingers becoming more and more clear to Dr. Malcolm.

“You’re right. Completely and utterly right. I'm ashamed of myself, honestly,” Dr. Malcolm appeased. “I can transfer,” he offered. Kyle’s eyes widened a smile spreading across his face.

“That's a brilliant idea,” he praised, making the doctor's shoulders begin to relax. “But that's unfortunately not going to work for us,” Kyle became tight lip, a disgustingly fake sorrowful look on his face. “You see if we just let you go, then that's sends a message, that anyone can just come in and make our omega feel unsafe”-

“I didn't know she was yours!” Dr. Malcom nearly sobbed.

“Well, we’ll just call that strike number two then,” Kyle cleared his throat. “Now you know. And when you walk out of this office, everyone in the building will know too,” Kyle smiled.

“Gonna be missing a few pieces, though,” Johnny grunted, heading towards the doctor. The doctor's shout was quickly cut off by Johnny’s hand.

“Not to worry, mate. Sure you can find someone to attach them back,” Kyle smirked.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It has honestly been my favorite to write…..what does that say about me….Anyways Love all of you! Thank you for your support and interacting with this post! 🧡

P.S. See you in three days for chapter 19!

[tojisun]

sex w simon on his bike??👀

i didn’t understand the vision until it hit me!! TWICE [heart eyes]

!! public sex (p in v and oral); THIS IS NASTY HHHHH; female reader // biker!simon mlist

જ thinking about simon fucking you against his bike, with your elbows resting on the padded seat, your back arched to present your ass to him which he greedily squeezes and pulls at, all the while groaning and rumbling in ecstatic amazement.

murmured pleas slip through your kiss-swollen lips, begging the universe or whatever’s out there that: 1) simon’s bike won’t topple to the side at the press of your weight against it, and 2) no one would see the two of you.

you stifle a squeak at feeling your skirt flipped up to the small of your back before a loud ri—ip sound echoes in the empty lot, the cold air hitting your bare skin instantly now that simon’s ripped your stockings open.

“god, baby,” simon rumbles, his voice hissed out in a barely contained snarl. “you and y’r fuckin’ perfect ass, i swear.”

“couldn’t you have waited ‘till we’re home?” you snark, feeling your cheeks flood with warmth when simon’s hand travels further down, greedy as it tugs at your flesh.

“‘course not,” simon replies, pulling away and leaving you trembling at the onslaught of cool air.

the sound of simon unbuckling his belt makes you freeze, your jaw dropping open for a quiet gasp, your own protest flying from your mind as nothing else pulses within you but your own desire. one that calls for simon.

simon slots himself against your back with ease, one of his arms circling your waist to tug you up, positioning you so that your ass presses against his chub perfectly. it makes you giddy—simon’s display of his strength; him manhandling you. but also, simon covering you with his bulk. simon towering over you.

fuck.

your eyes flutter close at feeling him kiss the back of your head, then he’s sliding in. in, in, in.

you pant at the continuous press, your jaw slack in pleasure as every inch of simon’s long cock breaches past your slick walls. you don’t realize you’re crying, the hiccuped rasps of your breath ringing loudly in the empty lot.

god, you’re so full. so fucking full.

“s’fucking wet,” simon moans, bumping his forehead between the valleys of your shoulder blades. “s’fucking good.”

you keen, pussy fluttering at the thick stretch of his cock—at how deep it is—feeling your legs quickly turning to mush.

you know you won’t last long again. you never stood a chance at holding back when simon just knows how to fuck you good, after all.

you don’t even snark at simon’s giggle at hearing your dreamy sigh.

-

જ thinking about giving simon head while he rests against his bike, the thing precariously propped up with nothing but the damn leg stand.

it doesn’t stop you from getting down to your knees anyway, jeans scratching against gravel as you scoot towards simon’s pelvis, nuzzling against his thigh, ignoring the rough fabric of his cargo pants.

simon croons, his big hands falling to hold the sides of your head. you hum, eyes fluttering when simon repositions you so your lips are hovering just above his chub.

“may i?” you ask, not breaking eye contact with him.

simon’s lips wobble and you don’t know how you must look but you can guess—desperate and a mess as you pant for your love’s cock. you can guess because however it is that you may look, it makes the pupils of simon’s eyes expand as it devours the dark browns of his irises.

he can’t hold back just like you.

“f’course,” simon murmurs, his voice grave and deep, almost akin to his morning rasp that always makes you burn with desire.

there is a heartbeat, a moment of building tension, before it peaks, tipping, and then you are fumbling with his pants, your trembling fingers reaching for his zipper before you’re tugging it down and pulling his cock out.

it’s already so hard, flushed at the tip with pre- beading on the head like a pretty pearl, and your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out to catch the drop before it drips down the length of his cock.

that first touch, first taste, is all you needed before you begin lapping at it with passion, drool building atop your tongue and pooling where his cock is pressed. you map the webs of his veins, taking note of the shiver that racks his body, and you hum when simon’s hold on your head tightens before loosening again.

“jesus, baby,” he gasps. “y’r so fuckin’ greedy with it, yeah? so greedy of me?”

you nod despite the difficulty of it, your teary eyes flicking up to meet his again. simon’s so flushed, and you think of how pretty he is as he stands before you like this.

you suckle on the head, mewling as more of his pre- dribbles into your tongue, flooding you with his taste.

more. you want more.

simon’s hips buck into you, thrusting his cock past the inside of your cheeks to meet the back of your throat, and you choke, pooled tears finally slipping past your furrowed eyes. even then, the sudden breach of his cock doesn’t deter you, instead, it makes you squirm, your panties gathering slick as your cunt weeps for his cock, almost like it’s jealous of your own mouth.

“you’re so…” simon’s voice trails off, and when you blink your eyes open again to meet his gaze you see the awed look shadowing his face, almost like he couldn’t fathom just why, exactly, are you so full of passion.

but it’s simon.

do you really need anything else more than that to stoke the flames of desire sitting in the pit of your stomach?

simon’s eyes crinkle, his smile wide. “wow, baby.”

a kick of a giggle makes your throat vibrate and simon moans, drawn out and loud, his head falling back to expose the column of his throat.

see? he is so beautiful bathed in his pleasure.

pleasure he is receiving from you.

hhshshehrhrh this is me fr. me rn! this is also me!! AHHHHHHH i want him bad :((

[rinnzsturns]

attitude fixer. — m.s

in which; you had been a complete brat all day, matt had no choice but to punish you.

warnings; filthy smut. spanking, unprotected p n v (🙅🏽‍♀️), hair pulling, creampie. (idk what else to add. lmk what i should add.)

w/c; 809.

a/n; based on this tiktok.. also i promised the creator i would write a smut ab this so.. huzzah!

matt couldn’t tell if you were about to start your period or just having a bad day, but either way, you were an absolute brat from the moment you had woken up. he’d been incredibly patient with you—so patient he wouldve gotten an award for it.

when the two of you woke up, matt had leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. but without a word, you pulled away and headed straight to the bathroom for a shower, leaving him in a silence that mocked him.

the two of you went to the store today to stock up on some essentials, but you kept tossing things into the cart that neither of you actually needed—despite matt’s constant protests, only adding to his growing frustration.

you had begged matt to stop for coffee, only to take a single sip before tossing the $8 drink straight into the bin—wasting it without a second thought.

that evening, you both went to a party hosted by one of your mutual friends. the whole time, you were all over Matt—poking at his biceps, tugging on his arms, pouting and sulking whenever he didn’t respond. you were relentless, and it was wearing him thin.

matt knew exactly what you were doing—pushing his buttons, winding him up just so he’d break and punish you for your behavior. and as much as you were getting under his skin, he refused to give you that satisfaction. even when he was right on the edge, he held back.

he handed you a lollipop—something to keep you occupied while he chatted with other friends. but it wasn’t just any lollipop. It was grape. matt had given you a grape lollipop. after two and a half years together, he knew full well you hated grape. he’d done it on purpose—a quiet, petty little act of revenge for the way you’d been all day.

you immediately threw the lollipop to the floor, the sharp clack echoing louder than you intended. matt’s attention snapped away from his friends, his eyes locking on you, clearly irritated by the sudden interruption.

his eyes darkened, his expression tightening as his voice remained calm but stern.

“go pick that up,” he told you, each word carrying a quiet authority that sent a chill down your spine.

“i’ll pick it up after,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm and annoyance, the defiance clear in every word.

“no, you’re going to pick that up. now,” matt exclaimed, his voice turning cold, the anger in it unmistakable as it cut through the room.

you shook your head, your arms crossed stubbornly over your chest, not budging an inch. the defiance in your stance was enough to push matt over the edge. his patience finally snapped, and the air between you grew thick with the fury he’d been holding back all day.

and that’s how you found yourself in this position. your defiance, your refusal to listen—it had all led to this moment, and now there was no turning back.

matt rammed himself into you, his cock thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace, your slick dripping down onto the silk sheets.

matt was absolutely fucking you silly, one hand gripping your hips so tightly—the other tangled in your hair, keeping your head up all so he could hear your pretty babbles.

“is this what you wanted, hm?” he asked, low grunts escaping his plush lips as he felt your gummy walls flutter around him, giving him his answer. “wanted to be fucked..aah..fucked dumb? yeah?” he asked again, hair gripping your hair tighter, your walls squeezing him so deliciously. although, for him that wasn’t enough, he needed more. he groaned as he released his hand from your hair, immediately slapping your ass. you yelped, back arching as he continued to fuck you into the bed. tears threatened to spill, as your moans of pleasure grew louder and louder.

matt brought his hand back to your hair, tugging at it whilst he brought you up to his chest, your pretty noises now bouncing off the four walls, his pace not budging, if anything increasing. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his hand slip down to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves furiously, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

matt groaned as he felt you clench tightly around his member , his tip bruising your cervix as he drilled himself into you, your orgasm creeping up behind you.

“matt im-mmh.. i-i’m so close..aah— fuck— please..mmgh..” you moaned, jaw slack as you let go, your body trembling as you arched your back off of his chest, head resting on his shoulders.

matts orgasm followed quickly after yours, his thrusts growing sloppy as he came into you, long spurts his cum filling you up lusciously.

© rinnzsturns

🏷️— @sturniolohohoho @sturn-l0ver @mattybearnard

[notspiders]

Liminal Spaces w/ 141

A thought I made with a few friends who fleshed it out more:

Liminal spaces! But you know, 141 are the monsters :P Now, the rule is that as long as you're compliant and not trying to escape, your liminal space is going to be heaven. They'll make sure of that to ensure you don't associate anything negative to their space. Can't have that, hmm?

Each man has their own domain. :)

Price - Suburbia:

Quiet, infinite neighborhood, everything looks the same. There's people but they all seem to act exactly like you'd imagine Stock Images people would act.

You can't really talk with them either. Strange how when you approach one of them, they just disappear in a blink of an eye.

Price would prefer if you act as his loving partner :)

The fridge is always stocked! Beds are warm and cozy. The television plays anything you want.

You also get WIFI. Don't bother messaging anyone (that isn't your husband.)

You can try to 'exit' the neighborhood. There's a car even! You can drive in it. There's unlimited amount of fuel. Too bad the road never seems to end and the houses are still there...

Not to worry. You can exit out of the car and enter any one of the houses. Price is always waiting :)

Got that all out of your system, hm?

Gaz - Shopping Mall:

Shopping mall has everything and anything.

Movie theaters, designer clothes, outlets, cafeterias, anything you want- it's there! Have fun exploring :)

It's just you though. No one else is in this mall.

Gaz's voice will always guide you over the speakers, should you ever get lost.

Or, your favorite music always plays over the speakers. You can ask Gaz to skip any song or play whatever you want at any moment of time.

Arcades, cafes, even a pet shop! Gaz will be happy to join you if you wish for company :)

The doors to the exits don't budge open. Stop trying.

There's an Internet cafe and library in this mall. Anything you want to read, watch, listen- it's all there. Still can't talk with anyone... Shame.

But you have Kyle. Who else do you want?

Soap - the Woods:

The Firewatch tower in the endless, dense woods.

It's pretty cozy.

Food is always stocked in the fridge. Plenty of water too. If you want something fresh, just ask! Soap is happy to hunt for you :)

You can watch sunsets and sunrises with him. He loves it :)

No WIFI here unfortunately, but, really- say goodbye to your electronic devices and embrace nature. It's good for you.

If you want to explore the woods, always have Soap beside you. He'll guide you around. Maybe you might find a small, beautiful clearing beside a lake. It's a perfect campsite. Could go swimming, fishing, canoeing...

Don't worry. No harmful bugs or creepy crawlies you dislike.

Oh? You want to go rock-climbing? Why how convenient that there's this cliff right beside us. With harnesses and such attached to the wall! And would you look at that, it's very easy to climb.

Plenty of things to do.

Starwatching. :)

As long as you're with him, no harmful monsters are going to bother you two.

Never go alone.

Ghost - the Beach

It's... a lovely beach.

If it weren't so foggy in most days.

But that's what you have Ghost for. He's your personal heater. :)

Seriously it gets freezing at night and the small shack by the ocean isn't really keeping the cold out.

Don't you worry. Sand won't get everywhere. And it's smooth. Calm your tits, Anakin.

Some days, when the Sun is out, the sand is just the perfect warm bed for you to lay down and just... sunbathe.

You can tan with Ghost to get that impeccable bronze. Don't worry, you won't get sunburnt. Of course... could always ask Ghost to lather sunscreen on you. He'll be happy to help you with that :)

The water can vary in temperature- from freezing cold to a nice sunny warm.

You can swim and wade in it. And you can try to go deeper but isn't that strange? The depth isn't changing and you just don't seem to be leaving the shore too much.

The currents do get stronger when you keep on trying. Don't bother, you're never getting past it.

Plenty of food and water in that shack. And spare clothes, towels...

WIFI? Babe, this is the beach. You don't need it. You have Ghost.

Bonus:

Credits to @angelcqre for this line:

something about the boys all going to Gaz’s domain at random points to pick up shit they don’t have in their own domains [...]

Yes.

Yes they would. They absolutely would.

[urhoneycombwitch]

plan b

husky!neighbor!Eddie x neighbor!Reader

foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers mentioned), she/her pronouns used for R, embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

[ljubimaya]

˙⋆⊹.꒷꒦꒷ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇

SYNOPSIS: Waking up in the pool of your own blood was the worst way for you to wake up to, and just like the start, the day progressed just as terribly. Lucky for you, you have a vampire boyfriend who's more than willing to make the pain go away C/W: afab! reader, vampire! Baji, aged up characters (18+), period and mentions of period symptoms, mention of blood (duh), consumption of blood (duh 2x), cunnilingus during period, a little dubcon-ish at the beginning but reader later on gets into it, a tiny bit of coercion, technically monster fucking, Baji has a long tongue (like fruit bats), established relationship, petnames (baby), not proof read if I missed smth lmk <3333 W/C: 2.9k+ A/N: It's been some time since I wrote something :,) truth be told I wanted to write this during my last period but I physically couldn't bc I was in such pain :,) either way, this is super self-indulgent and inspired by a conversation I had with my lovely friend @avatarofstars. Thank you for being my enabler ily so much <33

It would have been a lie to say things started off innocent- they never do with Baji. 

Cold calloused fingers trace random shapes on your thigh as you sat uncomfortably next to him. You and your boyfriend were wrapped in fluffy blankets, snuggling close to one another as the TV illuminated the dark living room. Fatigued, you laid your head on Baji’s shoulder as you continued watching the movie with him. You were getting tired, especially after the long day you had today. Waking up grumpy and hurting, you found your bed sheets and panties stained with blood. Of course you would get your period unexpectedly after changing the sheets the night prior and wearing your favorite pair of panties to bed. 

For you, the day was already ruined before it even started. Everything else that followed suit could only be described as an unfortunate domino effect: You changed your sheets and frantically searched for any pain meds, resulting in you coming late to work and getting into an argument with your colleague. To make matters worse you were searching for your pain meds for nothing, since you’ve used them all up on your last period and forgot to stock up on them again. And so, you were left to work with no way to alleviate your pain, both physical and mental as the fight with your colleague and the tense atmosphere were only adding to your mental distress. But you pushed through with your day, knowing that after coming home from your hellish day, you would be able to spend the night with your boyfriend. 

Baji could only visit you at night. Being a vampire, the ravenette wouldn’t step outside during day-time, making the darker hours the only times he could spend some time with you. Your undead lover knew what to do when he saw your exhausted self walk through the door: he’d have to help you relax in the best way he could. Thus, the idea of a movie night was born. 

“You tired?” Baji asked softly when you laid your head on his shoulder. You could feel the coldness of his body radiate through his clothes, but you didn’t mind. You grew to love his icy cold skin along with his other unhuman traits. 

“Yeah, kinda” you whimpered as you felt a cramping pain in your abdomen. Unable to move due to the pain spreading to your lower back and legs, you tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could without moving too much “But my body hurts so much, I can’t even fall asleep” 

Baji turned his face to look at you, eyebrows knitted as he eyed your limp form lean against him. You felt the subtle shift of his body, but instead of facing your boyfriend your head remained nestled on his shoulder. He couldn’t see your face, but your tired tone and the overwhelming smell of your blood told him you were beyond spent. 

The ravenette didn’t know much about periods, let alone the pain that comes with it, but he knew enough to understand that this might have been the worst period you have had yet. He couldn’t bear to watch you suffer, to watch you lay still as if life has been drained of you. One part of him wanted to take care of you, to rub your tummy and make sure you get enough rest. 

The other part, the selfish, hungry part, wanted to rip off your shorts and dove his tongue inside your pussy. 

You were too fatigued to even think about the implications of being on your period and Baji, a monster of the night thriving off of blood, being close to you. Dating him meant you were aware of the risks and issues you might run into, and dating you meant he was prepared to keep his hunger at bay as much as he could. But he couldn’t not when your sweet blood was polling between your thighs. The smell was intoxicating Baji’s senses, challenging the man to keep his composure any longer. He would have had a much easier time resisting his primal instincts if his pants hadn’t grown unbearably tight. Maybe a little taste wouldn’t hurt?

“Hmm, I know something that would make you feel much better” Baji whispers into your ear, his voice deep and raspy from his restraint “You just gotta relax and let me work my magic. Can you do that for me?”

The predatory growl did not fly past you; you lightly shuddered when you heard it, suddenly feeling wide awake. Suddenly, you were very aware of who your boyfriend was and what he could do to you. Your stomach twisted in a knot, unable to tell if you were afraid or excited. 

Yet, you pulled yourself together. Maybe he was hinting towards something else, you tried to reason with yourself. Despite your best efforts, you knew your boyfriend too well.

So you swallowed, torn between reason and intuition, torn between fear and lust, mustering up all of your strength to lift your head and look at him. You whimpered as the pain shot through the lower half of your body, having moved your upper body with your head as you gazed into your lover’s eyes. Reddish brown eyes clouded with lust and want stared right back into yours, watching your every move intently. 

“kei, it’s fine really. It’s not my first and definitively not my last period. I’ll just tough it out” You vetoed, even though you wanted to rip your own uterus out. 

Baji scoffed, unwilling to accept your defiance “You don’t sound like you wanna tough it out. You sound like you wanna be taken care off, baby” 

With that, the vampire stood up from the couch and repositioned you gently. More whimpers of pain left your lips, a sweet melody to Baji’s sharp ears. This wasn’t the first time Baji was tasting your blood, far from it. You’d let him feed off of you from time to time whenever he was sure he wouldn’t go overboard and drink too much of your blood. He’s eaten you out plenty of times too, but waiting you out on your period - that would be a first for the both of you. So he’ll make sure to make it an experience of a lifetime. 

“Kei, wait-” you tried to stop him as he yanked your fuzzy blanket away, exposing you to the cool air of your living room. Baji had none of that, he didn’t want to hear any protests from you. The man kneeled down and took your shorts off a little too fast to your liking. 

“Keisuke, you know, maybe some rest would do me much better” You sheepishly murmured, heat shooting up to your face at the sight before you: Baji, on his knees between your thighs, strong hands holding your squirming legs in place, his gaze intense and the outline of his hard cock on his sweatpants….

Your boyfriend could only scoff at you, finding your idea to be not only dumb, but also offensive “Bullshit, baby. Nothing could do you better than me”

Cold lips wandered over your hot skin, seducing you to comply with his demand “C’mon, I just wanna make you feel better” Baji hoarsely, half lying, half telling you the truth. He did want to make the pain go away after all,  but your sweet blood and your cunt were calling to him. And who was he to deny your urges - even when you weren’t fully aware of them?

There was something so hot about Baji this assertive. While the vampire continued giving your inner thighs kisses, you began to wonder if maybe he was onto something. After all, you did have a long day, and you knew of the euphoria inducing bites your lover could give you. Perhaps tongue fucked by your boyfriend would make you feel better. Your gaze met his just as he sunk his canines into your soft flesh. Wimmers and gasps left your lips as Baji began sucking on your skin, letting the blood flood his mouth. You shut your eyes tightly at the sharp pain of his monstrous teeth digging themselves into your tender flesh. The pain faded and morphed into euphoria. 

One bite was all it took for you to take your mind off your abdominal pain, and one bite was all it took to fully break your resolve. 

Your eyes were still shut as you savored the exhilarating feeling you got from your lover’s bite. Baji continued to bite into your thigh, feasting on your blood as his bites trailed closer to your clothed cunt. He stopped, his hunger for your blood seemingly quenched. The man took a good look at your thighs; covered in bite marks, bruises blooming on your skin like wild cornflowers on a field. Truly a sight to behold. 

You were feeling a bit lightheaded. Baji was careful not to take too much blood from you - after all, he had to save room for dessert - but he still fed off you more than he usually would. Not that you could complain, you were no longer in pain and felt more relaxed.

“How are you feeling?” your boyfriend asked while he toyed with the lining of your velvety red panties. Finally, you opened your eyes.

“I’m feeling better now. Much better, actually” you mused “but I feel a bit dizzy, thanks to a certain glutton” you rolled your eyes teasingly and laughed lightly. A smirk formed on Baji’s lips as he heard your little insult, amused by your cheekiness. 

“Ah, I see you’re coherent enough to joke around. Good, means I didn’t take too much blood from you” Baji remarked in a husky tone “But I can make you feel even better. After all, I’m not done feasting on you”

With that, he bit the elastic band of your panty and slowly pulled the flimsy piece of clothing down to your ankles with his teeth, his sharp canines grazing your skin. A shiver ran down your spine as you intently watched the erotic scene unfold in front of you. Baji held your gaze the entire, hypnotized by your half lidded eyes and plump lips slightly parting. 

Baji threw your panties to the away, uncaring of where they would land. Opposite to his earlier movements, the vampire forcefully gripped the apex of your thighs and swung your legs over his shoulders. A surprised yelp left your lips as you were being repositioned to sit closer to the edge of the couch. Your back and head hit the backrest of the couch with a light thud. You wanted to glare at him, maybe even tell him to chill out, but the hungry gaze you were met with made you feel weak to your knees. 

Baji was practically on eye level with your cunt. Drenched in your own blood, your pussy looked as delicious as a cake being served on a silver platter to him. Baji licked his canines, licking the remaining droplets of your blood as his gaze switched from your pussy to your face. Despite being practically bare and feeling his icy cold hands gripping your thighs, you felt so damn hot; he made you feel hotter than the sun. 

“You’re not going to refuse me, are you?” He rasps out as he was mere centimeters away from your pussy. The vampire grinned as he saw you shaking your head unabashedly “I need words, baby. Tell me what you want, and don’t take too long to think-”

“I want you to eat me out” You admitted loud and clear, not a trace of shame in your tone or face; no, the way you said it was so bold yet desperate at the same time, as if you were begging him. Perhaps you were begging Baji to tongue fuck you, but your boyfriend saw no need to tease you any further. After all, your wish is his command, and he was aching to taste more of you. 

Baji stuck out his long tongue and lapped at your folds, groaning at the taste of your blood mixed with your arousal. His wet muscle traced your labia before easing inside your wet cavern. The vampire pushed his tongue inside slowly, making sure you were comfortable. His tongue wasn’t in any way thick, just thick enough to not hurt you when he’d thrust it in and out. 

Moans bubbled out your lips as your undead lover took his time tasting you. He savored every thrust, every droplet of your blood, every little sound you made. Baji's nose pressed against your clit as he sunk his tongue deeper between your velvety walls. The tip pressed snug against your g-spot, making your toes curl from sheer pleasure. 

Your eyes pressed shut when you threw your head back, hands finding your lover’s raven hair and grabbing them, pushing his face closer to your aching core. And while Baji loved that you embraced the pleasure, he grew frustrated.  

Reddish brown eyes, half lidded and clouded with lust, watched your trembling form fighting yourself from releasing too soon. He pulled away, making you whine in protest. You looked down on him, eyebrows knitted in confusion and frustration as you managed to stutter out “W-why did you stop all of a sudden?”

Baji’s lower face was covered in your blood, a sight that made you feel excited and hot “I want you to look at me” he breathed out ruggedly, his lips deathly close to your nether lips “Don’t look away when I fuck my tongue into you. Don’t close your eyes, keep them on me” Biting your lower lip, you hesitantly nodded, unsure if you would be able to keep your promise, but God were you determined to keep it. 

So Baji thrusted his tongue back inside, this time a bit more forceful. You yelped at his roughness before your moans of pain soothed into frantic moans of need. You needed him to make you cum, and you needed it to be as hard and nasty as he could give it to you. 

Your fingers raked his hair, pulling on his locks hard when he relentlessly fucked his tongue into your pussy. There was no going slow and sensual anymore as Baji now forced his wet muscle in and out of you as hard and fast as he could. 

Trying to keep eye contact with the ravenette proved to be harder than you had initially expected; his iron grip on your tender skin was painful, his tongue bruised your insides in search of your sweet red nectar and his eyes burned with carnal desire. The way Baji was looking into your eyes felt like a predator looking into its prey’s eyes before eating it alive. A shiver ran down your spine to your clit as he nudged your sensitive bud with his sharp nose, creating a delicious friction that had you seeing stars. 

But you stayed put: you kept on looking back into his eyes even when his tongue grazed your g spot. Once he found your spongy spot there was no going back. The vampire carefully watched your reactions when he pistoned his tongue, always making sure to hit your g spot. Your eyes began to tear up the harder he went on you, your vision became blurry from the pain and pleasure; your lips parted as a string of ‘Oh my God’s, curses and Baji’s name left your mouth like a broken record and your hair was disheveled. The hottest mess Baji has ever seen in his life.

His dick strained painfully against his sweatpants, aching to be let free and sink itself down your throat. But that would be for later, after he has had his fill on you.

“Oh God, Kei” you screamed as you buckled your hips against his face. The tightness in your tummy became overbearing, dulling your sense of shame even more as you unabashedly screamed and begged your boyfriend to make you come. You didn’t care about the thin walls or the noise complaint you’d get in the next morning, brain full of the way his tongue feels inside you. 

Chanting ‘Please, please please please’ as the knot bursted in your tummy, you cried out his name. Your body felt limp after your release, so you fell back, hitting your head and back on the back rest yet again. Panting heavily as you came down from your orgasm, Baji helped you ride your high out before he pulled out his wet muscle from your clenching hole. His grip softened before releasing you, standing up from his kneeling position. 

“Fuck, my knees hurt” Baji groaned as he patted his knees “next time I better get a pillow to kneel on, baby”

“Next time?” you teased breathlessly, smiling at the gruff man once he stood up to his full height. 

“Yeah, next time” Baji replied smugly as he licked off the remainder of your blood away from his lips “I got a taste for you now baby. This will become a monthly routine from now on” 

You hummed at his idea, eyes wandering to his very obvious bulge. Somehow the view alone sent a tingle to your spent pussy. 

Baji wasn’t dumb, he knew you were looking at his cock and he knew you were thinking about the unspeakable things he could do to you with it. A smug smirk crept on his lips as he wiped off the blood on his chin before he stepped closer to the couch. With one movement he had you laid down on the couch, your back on the cushions and your head propped up on the armrest. 

The vampire stood above you, looking down on you as he slowly pulled his sweats down “You had your fun. Now it’s my turn”

[jakesangel]

lazy morning - 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 event request

preview : jake wanting nothing but to stay close to his love

word count + genre : pure fluff + 483 words / not proofread /

warning : kisses, hugs, sleepy n clingy jake, use of pet names

it's often jake finishes his dance practice late, coming over to your place when you're already asleep, happy to make you a morning surprise. but him finishing late also means he starts later than you, as work is calling for you really early.

but today is different that usual, the alarm didn't ring or you didn't hear it, making you late for work. and of course jake is all over you, his tight embrace and comforting smell, making it impossible for you to leave the bed. jake get off of me, you wisper yell, not even meaning it. he only makes grunts, rubs his face on your chest. come on jake, i'm late for work, he tightens his arms around your waist before humming, five more minutes please, he finally speaks. just two minutes then .

as you're making your breakfast, you suddenly feel a pair of naked arms h back hugging you and a chin coming close to your neck. mornin' baby, you hear his soft and low morning voice. the time seems to freeze, as he kisses your neck there or hms at the food breakfast your making. but you know once jake gets clingy it's hard to get out of his zone, jake not right now i'm late, you try to warn. it doesn't stop him. in fact it makes me clingier, his clingy puppy-ness coming out, as he wants something he can't have right now. he is also to tired to even think of the consequences of making you more late, but even if you lose your job, he'll be able to financially help you anyway. so he backs way a little, only to turn you around and hug you right there. jaaake you whine, without really wanting to leave him, you so warm and the bed is to empty and cold without you. he says as he smells your nape. he doesn't stop here, but hold you closer, stocking your hair softly. you know there is nothing you can do, but accept your beautiful fate. it also made you realize of his current attire : his grey sweatpants hanging low, showing off his hard abs and calvin klein boxer, his messy hair surrounding his precious bareface.

few minutes pass, and once his morning quota of his previous baby is finally fulfilled, he looks at you and kiss your forehead. lemme help you hm ? go put on your outside clothes, ill put your breakie in a tupperware, he sofly finish, a tired smile plastered on his face, alright ?

you're now in front of your front door, w a jake, still shirtless not really caring about nothing but you. there you go baby, he says as he hands you your food. he then put your hair right, so that you looks you arent 20 min late, and softly kisses you good bye, i cant wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow, my love.

notes : there you go baby >< i hope you like it, let me know <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🍓୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ tag list : @dreamiestay @jakesprincess1

perm tag list : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @driedflowwr @hoonion

[livelaughlovesubs]

Sigma and Fyodor with the prompts: fitting them with a collar and dressing them up in degrading outfits plsss. I need my subby Sigma. :3

Your thirsts shall be satisfied! Two subby men right away :]

Dom!gn!reader x sub!Sigma/ Fyodor (separate)

Warning: collaring, teasing, feminisation, hierophilia, cross dressing, established relationship(s)

Anniversary event

Sigma

He doesn’t even know why he agreed, he must have been out of his mind. He knew it was bad news when you came up to him, smiling all giddily, unable to hide your intentions while asking him so sweetly, “you’d do it for me, right? Plea~ase?”

And his intuition wasn’t wrong. Poor boy could barely contain himself when he saw what you had in store for him, and it took ages to actually convince him. Deep down, he cursed himself for being a push over when it came to you, but what was he supposed to do?

That’s how you got him to wear a super cute and revealing bunny boy costume, a typical one, except that it had some purple elements. Some of the ribbons were in a cute lavender colour. With it came a pair of bunny ears and plug tail, as well as some basic stockings. He didn’t dare to wear the tail by himself, since he was too embarrassed, and frankly, he didn’t manage to do it himself.

When he walked out of the room, to showcase just how amazing these clothes complimented his body, his face was already a bright red hue. Arms crossed in front of his chest, gaze lowered to the ground and knees threatening to give up underneath him. You gulped, astonished by how beautiful and sexy he looked, then you clapped as you complimented him, “it looks great! Really, really good!”

“Shut up..” Sigma replied all feisty, clenching his eyes shut as he shuddered. He wasn’t cold, it was because his heart was pounding really fast, pumping blood to his cheeks and lower part. It was too much for him to handle. “Aww, how mean of you~ I thought you wanted to be a good bunny?” You cooed at him, standing up and walking towards him with your hands behind your back, probably holding something, hiding it from his field of vision.

The male leaned back when he felt you were too close, eyes staring holes at the thing you were hiding, putting his hands up in front of his face, “h-hey, don’t tell me you have something lewd in mind.” You faked a surprised expression, gasping all dramatic, “something lewd? I’d never, what do you think of me?” But the smirk you had on your face told him otherwise, you really had to work on your mimics.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” You explained, then quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, whispering a small, “promise ♡” He stared right into your eyes, sweating a little, body heating up at the closeness and intimate nature of the moment. That’s when he felt something being wrapped around his neck, and it tightened, choking him for a split second.

That fraction of a second was enough to make him jump and gag, yelping and whining, “argHH..! What- what are you doing?!” The suffocating feeling was soon gone, though now replaced with a slight itch of something wrapping around his neck. “Ahhh, sorry for not alarming you. It looks so pretty though!” You apologised halfhearted, pressing your hands together as you did.

He frowned, still blushing. To be honest he had an index what it was, though just to be sure, he reached for the item with his hand and brushed over it. As expected, it was a collar. “…why are you being so sneaky with putting it on me, you gave me a heart attack.” Sigma complained, looking away in shame. He was getting really flustered and aroused due to all the set up he wore, the blush even crept up to his ears now.

“I wanted to see your surprised expression.” You answered in a heart beat, now wrapping your arms around his waist. “It was so worth it.” The boy glared at you, pouting slightly. Then he felt you grope his butt, and he shrieked, squirming in your grasp, shoulders jerked upwards and he mumbled, “w-what now?!”

“Where’s your tail, little bun’?” You asked, not stopping yourself. He grasped your shoulder and pushed you away weakly, his voice was meek as he replied, “obviously not there..” Suddenly you chuckled, that caught him off guard. Which is why he stopped avoiding your gaze and glanced at you, immediately regretting that action because god he could feel his legs going weak because of that look on your face. It was as if you wanted to devour him.

With a low voice, you teased your little pet bunny, asking all provocative, “let me help you grow a tail then?” And gone was his last ounce of dignity or resistance. He didn’t even put up a fight as he fell into your arms, twitching all over while whispering his answer, “p-please do..”

Fyodor

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1, Peter 4:8.” His beautiful voice, as graceful as ever, whispered softly while he scanned over multiple pages from the bible. He wanted to read you some of his favourite verses, lifting the corners of his lips slightly, eyes focused and sparkling. This was one of his hobbies, he liked how calming it was.

Most of the time, you weren’t even listening properly, instead you liked seeing that eager glim in his pupils. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, well, he knows you are, but he doesn’t mind. Still, you’d occasionally ask some questions, to keep him entertained, “what does that mean?” Fyodor closed his eyes, still smiling at you, then replied, “there is no definite answer, though if you ask me… I’d say sins committed in the name of deep love can be justified.”

You stayed quiet, thinking about his statement. Somehow that clicked in your head, and you asked to make sure, “Is that why you don’t hesitate when doing stuff with me?” He didn’t responded, only continuing to grin like nothing happened before leaning closer to you and giving you a peck on the lips. A sense of warmth and comfort swallowed your pounding heart, and you chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When you glanced at him again, you couldn’t help but think of how beautiful he was. That thought kept plaguing you, making you want to see him in a prettier outfit. “Hey, I think that’s enough for today,” you eventually declared, playing with his hair as you waiting for him to finish the page. “Hm? Alright then. I take it you have something else in mind?” Fyodor closed his bible, placing it onto the table next to him, looking at you expectantly.

“Yea, I actually do.” You told him while you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the closet and picking out some clothes for him to wear. “Ah…” he made a small sound of acknowledgment when he saw what you choose for him, then nodded and said, “i see what you want to do, well, I guess I don’t mind trying.” Despite how calm and collected he sounded, the small blush that crept up his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. Hence, you teased, “by the looks of it you are pretty excited as well.”

There goes his carefully crafted facade, he let a sharp sneer slip pass, then rushed you to get out. You had no choice but to wait until he was done. On your way out of the bedroom, you quickly opened one of the drawers, taking something with you. You hummed to yourself the entire time, anticipation building inside you. After about 10 minutes of leaning against the wall outside of the room, you heard the much awaited click of the door. Without wasting a single best, you barged back in.

“And? Does it fit? Lemme see-” annnd the waiting was worth it. You felt a tingle in your stomach when you laid your eyes on him, on his almost completely nude body. He was only wearing a set of black nun lingerie, with an equally dark cloth thrown over his head. The way he stood there was awkward, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable wearing these clothes. His eyes soon found yours, and his gentle smile returned.

“What do you think?” Fyodor teased, bending over slightly to make himself smaller, looking up at you, doing his signature expression. The bra and panties fit him perfectly, it emphasised his figure very well. Though it also reminded you of how awfully skinny and sickly he actually was, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from pulling him into a tight embrace. Wrapping both arms around his waist, pushing your body against his while mumbling sweet nothings into his ear.

One praise after another fell from your lips, grazing and tickling his skin like a tender breeze. “You look like an angel.” You said, even though his outfit was probably way too suggestive to be anything close to an angel. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that you thought he was heavenly. “Really, so gorgeous.” His blush darkened by a few shades, then he pushed you away playfully, whispering, “that’s enough. Can I change back now?” In contrary to what he expected, you shook your head, telling him, “there’s still one more thing.”

Before he got the chance to guess what you meant, you pulled out a collar that matched his eye colour. “This, I want to see you wear it.” You told him, so very straightforward, already getting to work and wrapping it around his neck. “Can I?” After you were almost done, you finally decided to ask him. He reacted pretty slow, eyes widened while he let you do what you wanted. And when you asked for his opinion, he hesitated for a bit, though in the end, he nodded meekly.

With a swift move, you adorned his neck with a personal collar, adding the final touch to his outfit. “It’s perfect.” You gasped astonished, reaching out to the collar and sticking one finger in, pulling slightly, “does it hurt?” The boy shook his head even if he gaged a little. Because of the pull he was now dangerously close to you, basically as close as earlier.

Without missing the chance, you spun him around and pushed him onto the bed, smiling as you chirped, “now, let’s see how deep our love is.”

There he was, all hot and bothered, almost laid bare, on his back, waiting for you like a five course meal you couldn’t resist. He smirked widely, giving you a cheeky answer, “I’m sure it’s deep enough to excuse whatever you’re going to do to me.”

Bonus!

[jadeshifting]

★⋆. ࿐ LOOKBOOK.

( IN MY SUPERNATURAL DR. )

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

★⋆. ࿐ bunny socks … bunny necklace (a smelted mix of iron & steel. good luck to any demons trying to grab my throat) … thin lace tank tops for when the Impala’s AC gives out every few stops and Dean has to fix it … angel wing shorts because this ass is from heaven … polka-dot tights … camo panties so i blend in in the woods even if i’m not wearing pants (kidding) (no i’m not) … giant butterfly hair clip to keep my hair out of my face when Dean refuses to roll the fucking windows up … butterfly yellow lace bra … every shade of silver nail polish i’ve ever stolen from a pharmacy … shorts w fur-lined pockets so my hands don’t get cold (and so Sam’s don’t either) … bracelet with human teeth that creeps the boys out … biblically accurate double-lamb top that also creeps the boys out … cute little matching sleep set to have nightmares on a shitty motel couch … powder blue tights … little lace stockings and mud-covered cowboy boots … shirt that got torn to hell by a coyote but i still fixed … rosary (used against demons and also my routine struggle with faith) … bedazzled america shorts i stole from a gift shop … silver spoon bracelet from Sam (he said it was nothing) (total lie) … literal apple bottom jeans

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[loveu2themoonandsaturn]

Nurse Harrington to the Rescue

Steve Harrington x gn!reader

a/n: warning, highly self-indulgent and hastily written sick fic ahead because I’ve been unwell and wish I was being cared for by this motherfucker and not myself, lmfao. also, no clue why, but the scoops ahoy hat was super giving nurse/candy striper realness to me so that’s the gif you all get to go with this. I’m posting this and then I’m going to bed. reblogs, likes, comments etc. are always encouraged and appreciated, my beloveds.

while this work is benign, this blog is 18+ so MINORS DNI

tags: sick reader (very, very vague, could literally be any short-term illness), no pronouns used toward reader, steve harrington is a blushy little simp and a huge sap, no use of y/n (because we watched two seasons of fleabag and never learned the main character’s name so at this point i’m learning from the school of phoebe waller-bridge), reader cracks a joke at the expense of straight men, not beta’d because author wrote this while feeling like a pile of shit 🩵

w/c: 1.1k

The sound of your groan echoes down through the hall of your shared apartment as Steve rushes to make it back from the kitchen to your side, a cup of tea, a glass of water and some pain medicine in tow.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m sorry, shhh,” he says lowly as he crossed the threshold of your bedroom door.

“Don’t need to apologize. Just sucks,” you say from your spot on the bed. The very same spot you’d been occupying for the past several days now.

You’d fallen ill over the weekend, the sickness bringing with it aches and pains and all sorts of other fun symptoms. God knows you’ve been better.

You chuckle to yourself now, though, always one to make light of a shit situation. “You know, I think I may finally be experiencing nearly half the agony the average straight man does when he catches a cold,” you snort, looking at your very kind and patient boyfriend who has dedicated himself to playing your doctor, nurse, personal chef, maid… the list has only grown as the days have passed.

Steve spares you a smile, briefly, but is clearly very preoccupied, worry only growing when you let out another pained noise. That smile quickly becomes a grimace at that. He frowns, looking down at the person who always takes up all of his waking thoughts when things are good… seeing you like this? He’s struggled to have a thought that isn’t about you for at least the last 48 hours.

“Here, sweetie, take these,” Steve says as he starts putting some of the many things he had been juggling down on the bedside table. He produces the bottle of pain killers from his pocket and presses it into your palm. He pushes the glass of water closer to you, almost as if he thinks you might strain yourself reaching another two inches over for it. You’re thankful for the thought he gives you even in spite of its potential inaccuracy. You weakly smile up at him. “Thanks Steve. You’re too good to me,” you say, tossing pills onto your tongue before taking a sip of water.

Steve, who has become startlingly easy to fluster since high school ended, just blushes, scratching the back of his head before running a hand through the ever-perfect poof of hair that lives on top of his head. “Of course… s’the least I can do when you’re not feeling well, love,” he says, a pitying smile resting on his lips as he looks back at you.

You make a noise of disagreement around your mouthful of pills and water, swallowing. “You didn’t have to stay home from work today, I would have been alright on my own. Some of these daytime soaps aren’t even half bad,” you joke. “I could have managed. I appreciate all the work you’re putting in to helping me get better,” you say as you reach for his hand, fighting the urge to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Steve just shakes his head though, adoring eyes taking stock of you. He lets go of your hand to press both of his into the sides of your face, leaning down to look into your eyes. “I’d much rather be here and judge the sick-day soap opera quality in person,” he chuckles out with a smile that crinkles his eyes just so. “But seriously, there’s nowhere else I would be right now. Wouldn’t have been able to focus at work anyways knowing you were feeling all crummy,” he says, squeezing your face gently to tell you he’s being serious.

If you didn’t “feel all crummy,” as your beloved boyfriend so eloquently put it, you really would have swooned at that. How sweet could one man be?

As you are, you hum, sighing gently so as to not rouse any of your present pains. “You’re cute, you know that?” you tell Steve.

There’s that blush again.

“Anyway,” he starts, “I’m gonna run out to the deli and get you soup. I’ll be back before you know it.” He starts toward the door, only pausing when you protest.

“Wait… please stay? Just for a bit? The deli doesn’t close until eight tonight, I’d much rather have you here with me for a little bit,” you say, pouting. If Steve didn’t know how unwell you were, he might have thought it was on purpose.

“I dunno, baby… You haven’t eaten much today, I’d really like to get some food in you,” he says, biting his lip as he considers. God, it’s cute.

“Just an hour, and then I’ll release you to your duties as a personal shopper and courier,” you joke, negotiating. Steve curses mentally, damning how easily you can always convince him. He tries to hold on to some semblance of control here though, pretending to think it over a bit more.

“Just one hour? And then no funny business?” he says, looking at you sternly, though there’s no heat behind it.

“On my great-great grandfather’s grave, no funny business. I’ll put the keys in the ignition myself, scout’s honor,” you say, a hopeful look in your eyes. It’s the most energy Steve has seen you have in days; he can’t really bring himself to take that away from you now.

“You most certainly will not be putting any keys in any ignitions or doing anything outside of this bed until that fever breaks, you got me?” Steve says, mom mode activated. It makes you laugh, something you helplessly try to stifle. You straighten yourself up, trying to return to your serious negotiator persona.

“I got you. Does that mean you’re staying?” Steve could bury the lede all he wants with you, but you were always going to find it. He sighs in defeat.

“One hour,” he says as he crawls into the bed, startling you.

“Hey, hey, thought you didn’t want to get sick!” you say; now it’s your turn to sound concerned.

Steve just shrugs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “I’ll be okay. And if I’m not, I’m sure I’ve earned myself a truly lovely nurse to bring me back to health,” he mutters, kissing the top of your head one, two, then three times.

You grumble at this, but secretly, you’re grateful for the affection.

He holds you like that for exactly an hour, true to his word, even though you fell asleep just 10 minutes in, the tea he had made for you long forgotten. He scoots out of the bed, gentle as he makes his way out the door.

You sleep soundly, unaware he was ever even gone until he returns with plastic takeout containers of your favorite soup from the deli and a smile on his face. He loves to take care of you like this, and how could he not?

You’re his favorite person, the love of his life. He could do this every single day.

[nvareim]

bite me, v. garza x fem! reader

tags; predator/prey, fearplay, dacryphilia, degradation, drugging, thigh riding, stalking, dubcon and toxic dynamics. MDNI w/c; 4.4k ao3 link | pinterest board a/n; never arguining with a woman with big brown eyes, whatever u say gorgeous

The streets of Las Almas are still blood-stained the day you escape.

It’s been quieter since the Shadows combed through the city, killing anything that moved. The dogs no longer bark, kids don’t play in the streets, and the armed men who roamed every alley are few and far between. It’s the perfect opening. You spend the morning preparing. 

You pack lightly, only the things you’re sure you’ll need. Clothing for layering, socks, underwear, and cash. It all fits nicely in a backpack you can easily carry. You leave both of your phones on the nightstand, the backs pried off and batteries neatly stacked atop each other. 

The better part of an hour is spent prying at the metal collar around your neck. You pry at the latch until your fingers are bloody, picking at the screw that holds it together. As a last resort, you use the point of a utility knife. You sit just inches away from the mirror, neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as you slowly unscrew the locking mechanism. You’re stock-still, barely breathing out of fear the blade will slip. 

 The second the collar unlatches, you rip it from around your neck and throw it aside. It slides across the floor, hitting the baseboard with a heavy thud. You take deep, ragged breaths as you study your reflection. The lack of weight around your neck is foreign. With it gone, your decision is final. There’s no turning back now.

Las Almas is teeming with Mexican soldiers. They pace the Greyhound station, X12s strapped to their thighs and rifles slung across their chests. Their watchful eyes follow you as you pay for your ticket in cash with shaky hands. The old woman in the booth hardly scrutinizes your forged papers, clicking away at her keyboard as she logs information. She slides your ticket through the opening in the plexiglass, wishing you a safe trip. 

You practically fall onto a bench, sighing as you hug your bag close to your body. Rain pours down from the roof, streaming toward the storm drains. The air is thick and warm with moisture, heavy on your skin. You bounce your knee nervously as you wait for the bus to round the corner. 

When it does arrive, you’re the first to board. You snag a window seat at the very back where you can watch every passenger enter. You hold your breath with each new rider, nervously anticipating Valeria or one of her men to be the next passenger. It isn’t until the bus is pulling away from Las Almas that you feel the weight lift from your chest, though just barely.

Your journey north becomes a slow crawl. The best ticket you could afford brought you just north of Denver. The rest of your cash is rationed out and stuffed beneath your clothing.

In the beginning, the kiss of cool air against your skin is refreshing. It’s a welcome reprieve from the sweltering Mexican heat. A reminder of how far you’ve gotten. But the novelty quickly wears off once the slight chill turns unforgiving. You attempt to adapt by picking up a free coat from a local church and bartering over warmer clothes from thrift stores, but they only do so much to protect you from the bitter cold. Homeless shelters aren’t an option, the lines are longer as the dead of winter draws nearer. By the time you reach Wyoming, you’re running low on money to spend. You resort to stealing food from gas stations and sleeping in alleyways. You spend your days in local libraries, reevaluating your route north and searching for updates on Valeria. Librarians typically quirk a brow at your peculiar behavior, but leave you alone until they close down for the night. 

As the nights grow longer, they become even more difficult to get through. You curl yourself into a ball, your money stuffed into the band of your bra and a knife clutched tightly in your hand lest anyone gets any ideas. Hostels are few and far between and only reserved for nights you’d surely die if you slept outside. 

In early December, you spend a decent chunk of your food budget on a cheap motel room. It’s a shady establishment just outside of a small city, the kind of place you pay for by the hour. Snow flutters down and gathers in the parking lot, the pure white flakes quickly soiled by the gravel beneath. Multicolored Christmas lights are wrapped around the wrought iron railings in honor of the upcoming holiday. A few women smoke in the shadows of the building, seemingly huddling together for warmth. 

Inside the room, The wallpaper peels away to reveal yellow-stained drywall beneath and the heating unit rattles when you turn it on, blowing a small cloud of dust into the room. You refuse to peel away the comforter out of fear of what you’ll find, so you toss a blanket overtop instead. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke and artificial lemon is nearly caustic. 

 You turn the TV on, upping the volume until it’s loud enough to drown out the noise of the heater. The throw beneath you is scratchy and thin, but the bed itself is comfortable enough that you allow yourself to sink into it. With so many miles between you and Valeria, it’s easy to lull yourself into a sense of false security.

You shrug your jacket off to use as a makeshift pillow. It’s a far cry from Valeria’s luxurious bed back in Las Almas, but it’s the best you’ve had in weeks. The steady flow of warm air filling the room thaws the stiff joints in your limbs and loosens the long-held tension in your shoulders. It’s easy to fully settle into the makeshift pillow, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. It’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

It’s pin-drop quiet when you wake up. The constant hum of the heating unit has ceased, though the room has long gone cool. The TV had been shut off, leaving the room completely dark. 

You blink away the last bits of sleep from your eyes, willing your vision to focus. Something primal stirs in your gut, fight or flight instincts urging you to move. The darkness comes into focus slowly, the shape of the furniture comes into focus. So does a figure sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Your blood freezes in your veins. You push yourself up from the bed, heart pounding in your ears. A firm hand wraps around your upper arm, throwing you back into the mattress. The springs squeak from the force. You kick and thrash in Valeria’s hold, desperate to land at least one hit. You refuse to go down without a fight, not after all you’ve been through. You manage to land a single scratch across her cheek. Blood bubbles up from her skin, smearing onto your fingers and her face when you push her away. 

One of her hands pins both your wrists to your sternum as she bears down on you. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you in place. You take in a gasping breath, lungs struggling to expand under her weight. For the first time, you get a good look at Valeria and what you see terrifies you. There’s a feral glint to her eyes and not a bit of playfulness in her smile. Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a rabbit. 

“You scream and I’ll gut anyone who comes in that door,” Valeria hisses, hand tightening around your wrists as she wraps a zip tie around them. Tears spill from your waterline as composure crumbles. The edge of the tie presses into your skin uncomfortably, but Valeria doesn’t soften at your whining.

“It was a fun chase, sweetheart, but it’s over,” She fishes a small bag from her pants pocket, shaking a small white pill into her palm. Valeria holds it to your lips with one hand, the other pinching your nose shut. You go as long as you can without air, stubbornly clenching your jaw shut until your lungs burn. 

Valeria watches with interest, grinning as the seconds tick by. You barely make it a minute before you’re gasping for air. Valeria doesn’t waste a moment before she’s pushing the pill past your lips and pressing her palm over your mouth before you can spit it out. Her fingers still pinch your nose shut, her grip unyielding against the restrained fists that pound against her chest.

“Swallow, baby,” She goads as black creeps into the edges of your vision. By now, the pill is reduced to bitter white chunks on your tongue, but you make a show of swallowing to satisfy her. The reaction is almost instantaneous, her fingers prodding past your lips as you desperately gulp down oxygen. Her fingers taste like sanitizer and lotion as she inspects your gum line and beneath your tongue. You cringe away from her touch but with the bed beneath you, there’s nowhere to go. 

When she’s confident you swallowed, she gives you a quick pat on the cheek. The corner of her lips twitch up in only a ghost of a grin before she’s hauling you to your feet and bending you over her lap. You huff, balance thrown off kilter by the sudden movement and lack of oxygen. Valeria’s knee digs uncomfortably into your stomach and ribs. A hand wraps around your upper arm, holding you firmly on her lap. 

“You thought I wouldn’t hunt you down?”  She asks, free hand trailing down the curve of your spine. Her chipped and jagged nails drag across your skin, leaving raised lines in their wake. Fingers curl around the waistband on your sweatpants, gripping tight. You kick your legs, gritting out empty threats as she pulls them down. She tugs until the cleft of your ass is exposed to the stale air.

“I’m sorry,” You sob into the comforter, tears wetting the scratchy blanket. You sound like a broken record, the apologies spilling from your mouth only broken up by promises to never do it again.

“I don’t believe you,” Valeria coos, a condescending smile playing at her lips. She splays her hand against your ass cheek, lightly pressing into the soft flesh until it dimples beneath her fingertips. Her grip on your arm has tightened enough to be bruising.

The heat between Valeria’s thighs only heightens at the sight of you draped over her lap. Idly, she considers the merits of a more sadistic punishment. Purpled bite marks across your shoulders would certainly remind you who you belong to. Or maybe nice ‘V’ carved into the soft fat of your ass. Both would crush your little attitude beneath her boot. Ultimately, she decides to stow those thoughts away for now, saving them for when you’re back home with her. It’d be easy to go overboard now, with the adrenaline and anger rushing through her bloodstream. For now, she just wants to make you cry. 

The first hit comes when you least expect it. The impact sends a ripple through the soft flesh of your ass. Valeria groans lowly at the sight. Your hips jump at the sensation, skin going hot beneath Valeria’s palm. The strike has you screeching, thrashing beneath her in a futile attempt at an escape. You clench and unclench your restrained fists.

“Count.” Her brown irises are swallowed by her dilated pupils, trained in the spot where her hand met your cheek. The heat of your skin bleeds into Valeria’s cold palms, goosebumps popping up across your exposed skin. 

“What the fuck?” You squeal, humiliation and fear petering into indignation. It’s not a surprise to Valeria, she’d always known there was a bit of you that needed training. You were impatient, even selfish at times. A wily little thing she enjoyed wrestling into submission. The brattiness was endearing in her own bed, but after the past few weeks, it only stokes her anger. 

“Count,” She repeats, a little louder this time. “Count and maybe I won’t fucking chip you.” The twist of anger in your expression has her raising her hand again, coming down in a perfect arc to hit the same spot again. You shriek into the bedding, fingernails sinking into your clammy palms. Valeria’s arm tightens around you, dragging you even further into her lap. “Not gonna do it?” She brings her hand down three more times, alternating which side she hits to keep you on edge. “You think I’m lying? Tracked you down like a fucking dog, tell me why I shouldn’t treat you like one?” 

“Won’t do it again, Val,” You sob. “Please, I’m sorry!” Hot tears stream down your flushed face, mixing with the drool smeared across your chin and mouth. Your voice cracks with the force of your crying. Valeria grows impossibly wetter, slick dampening the gusset of her panties. 

“Then start counting.” Your fingers claw at the blanket as she strikes you again. There’s no screech or resistance when her palm hits you, just sniffling. The seconds drag by like hours as Valeria waits with bated breath, hungrily watching the tears spill from your eyes. 

“ One .” Valeria releases your chin and you press your cheek to the mattress. She groans at your thin voice, hoarse from all your yelling. Her palm rubs soothing circles over the spot she’d just hit, contrasting the rough treatment just seconds prior. A shudder runs up your body at the sensation, eyes screwed shut. 

“Good girl,” She murmurs, lips curling into a predatory grin. The next hit has you tensing up beneath her, stammering out a low two . There’s still some resentment buried beneath your submission. It shows in the impudent curl of your lips, the angry furrow of your brow. The quiet whimper that slips your mouth before three is delicious. It appeases Valeria’s growing appetite.  

By ten , you’ve run out of tears. The quiet groans spilling from your throat have a knot winding in Valeria’s stomach. Your ass is marred with her handprints, raised marks from the trauma. Come time, they’ll darken into bruises, the sting of red-hot flesh fading to an overwhelming ache. And every time you see them, you’ll be reminded of your mistakes. Valeria loosens her grip on you, knowing you won’t even try to run. 

By fifteen , your eyes have glossed over and your thrashing has ceased. The numbers are whispered through gritted teeth between quiet grunts, attitude fully snuffed out by Valeria’s hand. A little pain and you’re her good girl again, all sweet and pliant beneath her. Your inner thighs are dewy with the slick that leaks from you, dribbling down your cunt to your swollen clit. 

There’s no resistance as she hauls you to your feet, hands placed beneath your armpits like you’re a doll. You brace your hands on her shoulder, legs too shaky to keep you upright. Valeria tugs your panties and sweatpants up, brushing the bruised curve of your ass too firmly to be accidental. You shift a little, lurching forward to escape the pain. 

Valeria grabs you by the hips, dragging you into her lap. You let out a little yelp upon resting your ass against her thighs, the sudden weight against the raw skin overwhelming. For a moment, you hover, but Valeria presses you down firmly, ignoring the way you wriggle away. Once the pain subsides, you practically meld into her, head resting in the crook of her neck as you sniffle. Valeria brushes the hair from your face, damp with tears and cold sweat. Your limbs are loose, heavy with warmth that emanates from the pit of your stomach.

“Why’d you run?” She murmurs, dragging her splayed palms up and down your thighs. When you don’t reply, she tugs your head from the crook of her neck, hand cradling the base of your skull. Valeria studies you with her dark eyes, searching for a flicker of resistance in your lachrymose gaze. She finds nothing. “Hm? What was it?” 

“I was scared,” The words slip out before you can consider them. It’s an admission only made more pathetic by your thin voice. Something in Valeria’s gaze shifts as her lips press into a line. Her hand tightens on the back of your neck. The weeks of false composure fracture when faced with her dilated pupils, only a thin rind of warm brown surrounding them. The fear hits you like a cold wave, washing over your body as the words are spilling from your chest. 

“I-I didn’t know if it was safe for me to stay,” You stammer out, clenching your hands into fists in an attempt to ward off the tremors overtaking you. “I was worried that maybe they’d come for me next and you wouldn’t be there, Valeria, and I-” The corners of her lips tug up into a smug, satisfied grin and your words are cut short with a stifled sob. 

It’s not a lie, but not quite the truth either. Valeria can see it in the split second of hesitation before you speak. There’s fear there, but not fear of her enemies. No, she saw that terror in your wide-eyed gaze when you realized she had been the one to find you. 

“Oh, mi vida ,” Valeria coos, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. Her thumb brushes away the few tears rolling down your face. Her other hand brushes up and down your side, dipping beneath the fabric of your shirt. “You thought you’d be safer running?” You sniffle as she squeezes at the fat of your hip. “This,” She gestures to the room around you with a sardonic chuckle. “This is worse than if you stayed put. I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are.”

“I’m sorry.” You say for the millionth time. It’s the only response your brain can formulate. She’s right, running only left you more vulnerable to people who would use you to reach Valeria. But she doesn’t take your fear of her into consideration, even with the marks spread across your ass cheeks. 

“I believe you,” She says, “But it’ll take more than an apology to make me trust you. You understand, right?” 

You nod, eyes cast downward in shame.

“Good girl,” She tugs at your lower lip with her thumb. “Missed you s’much, you know?” She purrs, pressing two fingers past your lips. Your jaw widens to accommodate the push of her finger against your tongue. “Was so excited to see my girl. Bet you can imagine how I took the news, hm?” Drool gathers behind your teeth, dripping down your chin as Valeria ‘accidentally’ bumps your gag reflex. You lurch, but her fingers remain firmly hooked in her mouth. You don’t have the energy to resist her, any coherent thought slipping from your grasp before you can make sense of it. 

“So pretty like this,” She muses. Valeria adjusts you like a doll, one hand grabbing and moving your limbs until you're straddling her thigh. “You know who owns this cunt, don’t you?” Her other hand grips your hip, rolling it against her muscled thigh. Valeria laughs at your garbled moan as pleasure sparks in your core. “Just my stupid little pet that doesn’t know what’s good for her.” 

“M’not,” You slur, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt. She continues the slow pace, occasionally bouncing her knee to relish in your yelps. The heat in your stomach only grows. Electricity shoots up your spine when Valeria perfects the angle, pressing the seam of your pants against your clit just right. You moan around her fingers, lips and chin shiny with spit. In the weeks you spent running, pleasure had been an afterthought. You never had the time or privacy to worry about getting yourself off. The neglect left you swollen, sensitive, and all too receptive to Valeria’s touch. 

“Really?” She coos, slowly pulling her fingers from your mouth. They come to rest on your other hip, fingers dampening the fabric beneath them. “Grinding your cunt on me like a dumb mutt, aren’t you?” With a firmer grip on you, she presses your cunt even harder on her thigh, rocking you back and forth. You mindlessly follow her movements, chasing your high. 

Valeria studies the pinch of your brow and pitch of moans, watching every minute expression that crosses your face. Your thighs tighten around her own, desperately humping at her. Quiet pants escape your swollen lips, your head hangs low, and your eyes shut. The languid pace is entirely your own, she’s barely moving you along.

When your moans take a higher pitch, fingers tugging at her shirt, she knows you're close. Valeria’s hand comes to pull at your hair, tugging your head back and exposing the bare column of your throat. Her jaw clenches upon noticing your collar’s absence. She meets your wide eyes, your scleras flushed red and pupils dilated. Your pace falters, but Valeria prompts you to keep going with a bounce of her leg. 

“Please,” You whimper. “Wanna come.” The desperation in your voice is palpable. It’s pathetic enough to have Valeria pitying you. It’s hard for you to keep your grip on her shirt, your muscles seem to have a mind of their own. Your restrained hands fall to your lap, numb and warm as you continue to grind. 

“Yeah?” She taunts. ��You wanna cum on my thigh?” Her fingers dance up your shirt, calluses brushing over your fluttering abdomen as she makes her way to your breasts. You part your lips when her fingers toy with your hardened nipples, plucking and twisting the sensitive buds. 

“Mhmm,” You nod, eyes fluttering shut. Your tongue is too heavy to form a proper response. By now, your head has gone cottony and light, filled with nothing but Val. It’s hard to even remember how you got into this situation or even recognize the dull ache of your bruised ass on every grind. Her body heat is suffocating, the scent of her perfume leaving you drooling. Valeria can see the distant look in your eyes, so she lets your lack of verbal response slide. She dips her head to your shoulder, pressing wet kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Please,” You manage to wail, repeating the word until your voice gives out on you. Valeria’s teeth glint in the moonlight as you come, nipping at the thin skin above your pulse point. Your wetness soaks the crotch of your panties, leaving them wet and sticky along the curve of your folds. The heat bleeds through your pants, warming Valeria’s thigh. 

When your hips stop twitching and your breath slows, you slump into Valeria. The hand beneath your shirt traverses up and down your spine as you hiccup and cry. Shame curdles in your stomach, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. Valeria presses soft kisses to your cheek, slowly making her way to your chapped lips. 

The kiss is sloppy and almost entirely one-sided. You struggle to keep up with her, clumsily tilting your head the wrong way and hardly moving your tongue. Her teeth knock against yours. When you cringe away at the sensation, she follows you, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to break skin. Hands wrap around your upper arms hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer to her. She licks along the sharp edges of your teeth, presses her tongue against yours. You squirm and whine through it all, only settling when she pulls away, a string of blood-tinged saliva connecting you. 

Satisfaction blooms in Valeria’s chest as she meets your teary eyes. You weeks of planning, the effort spent running, all of it was rendered pointless in a matter of minutes. The regret has your chest tightening, wishing you’d fought harder, bared your teeth. It’s too late, you realize as she heaves you to your feet. There’s no chance at escape with the way the room sways, legs weak beneath you. Valeria anchors you to her side just as you're about to fall, pulling you toward the door. Your mind desperately screams to push her away, but you can’t feel your arms anymore. You stumble and trip over the door frame, only held upright by Valeria’s arm around your waist. 

You can’t help but feel like a prisoner approaching the gallows when you see the idling car. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as she drags you forward, ignoring your attempts to dig your heels in. Each step is one step closer back to Las Almas, back to her mansion, to the gilded cage she’ll lock you in. Fear curdles in your stomach, but there’s nothing you can do with Valeria practically pinning you to her side. She pushes you into the car, quickly sliding in next to you and slamming the door shut. The click of the locks cements your fate. Valeria wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close when you try to shuffle away. She barks out orders to the driver. The car shifts gears, quickly leaving the motel and meeting the open road. Valeria murmurs something about going home as your body loosens, her knuckles brushing over your arm. It’s only a matter of minutes before you’re sprawled across the seat, head resting in her lap. The promise of deep, dreamless sleep is irresistable. 

Valeria idly brushes the hair from your face, humming a quiet tune just loud enough for you to hear. For a while, she watches you fight to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut adorably each time you do. She smiles when you finally slip away, that pinched, fearful expression finally leaving your pretty face. It’s the culmination of weeks of work, countless outbursts, and more than a few deaths. You gave a good chase, she’ll admit, but she won. 

Valeria’s sure once the rohypnol’s effects wane, you’ll be back to your feral self. It won’t be easy to earn your submission, but to her, that’s half the fun. Valeria can already hear the foul threats you’ll grunt out from behind your gag, drool dripping down your chin as you pull against your leash. But that’s trouble for another day, another training session. It’ll take more than one session to fully domesticate you, but Valeria is eager for the work ahead. She’s always enjoyed playing with her food. 

[l0vergrlll]

: ̗̀ 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Inspo: Thursday - The Weeknd

Summary: Y/N has obvious feelings for Matt, who is cold-hearted with only one goal in mind. The two agree to see each other on Thursdays, the one day of the week which Matt reserves for her.

Warnings: toxic!Matt, no established relationship, smut, angst, smoking, mentions of drug and alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of y/n

Note: This ones for all my XO's out there. ya'll i know its been ages since i last posted LMAOO but hey life happens. Enjoyyyy!

I love her today…

Because it was their designated day for each other. The day Matt had committed solely to “loving” Y/N. 

Any other day, she was nothing to him. A cold-hearted truth she forced herself to endure. Anything to be able to see him, even if just one day of the week.

Her desperate words from that evening lingered within his dazed mind. 

~

“When can I see you again, Matt?” She cried, her delicately coated crimson nails clung to his shirt. He gazed stone-faced down into her glossy eyes, her face contorted with drunken sorrow. His brows furrowed as he took in her state; her shaky breaths and her flushed tear streaked cheeks. The way she practically transferred all her balance onto him, her torso flush against him. He stood, fully-cloathed as this naked woman he had just fucked pathetically clung to him, refusing to let him walk out without an answer. 

“I’ll be here every Thursday,” His voice was as low as a whisper, gruff and stern as his face remained emotionless. Her eyes glistened with hope. He internally mused at the way these words satisfied her. He thought her desperation to be incredibly naive. 

“Only Thursday. No other day. Be ready, I’ll be here next week,” And with that being said, he left no room for further conversation. Matt maneuvered away from her grasp, causing her to stumble. His tall figure stocked down the hall towards the front door, not once looking back. She watched his silhouette disappear into the shadows, leaving her to bring her arms around herself in a hug. Her heart fluttered in anticipation for their next acquaintance. For next Thursday.

“I’ll be ready,” She whispered to herself, as a singular tear slid down her cheek, her cherry red lips curving upwards into a smile. 

He was hers on Thursday.

What she refused to accept was the fact that every other day was reserved for another woman.

~

Matt exhaled a cloud of smoke as he let that night replay in his head. The night which led him to be present on her doorstep once again. It was Thursday. He let the cigarette fall to his feet, letting him crush it as he stood facing the door. 

Despite appearing outwardly dispassionate towards Y/N, he knew deep down that he too had been anticipating this night. For he couldn’t forget the way she melted in his presence the week before. The way she begged for his touch, for his love. Matt had been with a lot of women. Yet none possessed the same tireless desire Y/N showed for him. She didn’t care how it looked, she just wanted to make it clear just how much she needed him. 

To Matt’s annoyance, she had a way of infiltrating his stone cold heart with her affection. 

With that, he knocked three times on her door. Another thing he was sure of in this ambiguous relationship with Y/N was the fact that their sex was unbelievably good. Thus, he wasted no more time delaying the night. 

The door clicked open, and Matt looked down to meet Y/N’s awaiting gaze. She had on an emerald green satin robe which draped intricately along the curvature of her small figure. It was clear to Matt that she had nothing else underneath. 

Y/N’s mouth was agape as she stared longingly into his penetrative blue eyes. His towering presence caused her to stand staring at a loss for words, any inhibitions she may have had dissolving in the moment. 

“Happy Thursday,” Matt broke the silence, remaining nonchalant as he entered her home while shutting the door behind him. Without uttering a word Y/N jumped into his arms, locking her lips with his in a heated kiss. 

Matt reciprocated the passionate kiss as he moved his lips along hers. He let his hands instinctively wrap around her waist as he brought her body to his, deepening the two of them in the kiss. Y/N grabbed hold of his hair, intertwining her fingers with his dark locks. Matt brought one of his hands up to her jaw, gripping it in an effort to bring her face impossibly close. The kiss was loud and sloppy, their exasperated moans ringing through the air. No further words were exchanged as the two stumbled towards her bedroom.

The night commenced into a dreamlike event of passion and lust. 

Matt pulled his shirt over his head with one hand, revealing his bare torso. Tattoos decorated his tanned skin, traveling up his left arm. His silver necklace dangled as he hovered above her body, the metal catching the light which illuminated from the dimmed bedside lamp. 

Y/N sat up slightly so that he could remove the robe from her body. He let his fingers hook beneath the rich green fabric, sliding it down her body. Her exposed breasts perked up, and Matt gazed ravenously at her body. Once she was fully naked beneath him, he tossed the robe aside.

Y/N sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as she admired Matt’s movements. The way he unbuckled his belt, sliding his jeans and boxers down simultaneously. 

His cock protruded free from the fabric, the tip making contact with his abdomen as the slit oozed with precum. Y/N’s core leaked with desire for him. She rubbed her thighs together as she ached for his love. 

Matt descended back down, crashing his swollen lips against hers. He grinded his bare body against hers as they tilted their heads in a deep makeout. His rock solid dick twitched as it rubbed against her. Y/N brought her legs up and around his waist, tightening them around him as she brought him closer. Her arms hugged his neck, and she moaned into his mouth as the longing for him painfully intensified. 

Matt parted from the kiss, bringing his head up as his dark eyes penetrated into hers once again, dark with lust. 

“Say the words, Y/N. And I’m all yours for the night,” He spoke in a raspy tone, panting from the kiss. 

“I need you Matt,” Her voice was high pitched in desperation. “Please… I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me”

That’s all he needed, and he was palming his throbbing cock, aligning it with her swollen entrance. Matt glided his cock along her slit, coating it in her lubricating juices. 

Without wasting another second, he was pushing his cock inside her, slowly entering deeper inside as he maintained eye contact with her. Matt watched Y/N gasp at his overwhelming size, her face twisting in pleasure. She bit her lip as he began to rock his hips, thrusting at a slow pace to allow her to adjust. 

Matt grunted as he watched Y/N’s eyes roll back, pornographic moans escaping her pretty lips. With this, he increased the speed of his thrusts, pounding against her core mercilessly. Y/N yelped in pleasure, bringing her hands to his hair once again in search of something to grip onto. This brought Matt’s forehead down to hers, and they remained this way as he fucked her at an unforgiving pace. His hands clawed at her waist, his pelvis crashing against her core again and again. 

Matt brought one hand up to her throat, gripping it hard enough to have her choke out her moans. Tears threatened to escape Y/N’s eyes as she whimpered and cried, the pleasure escalating to unbearable amounts. She felt her walls tighten around his cock, his length rutting against her g-spot repeatedly. Y/n’s mind was clouded in pure ecstasy. 

A moan escaped Matt’s mouth as his cock spasmed inside her, threatening to release. He glared down at Y/N, her expression dazed and euphoric. 

“No one’s ever fucked you this good, huh?” He spat, his voice wavering as he began to reach his high. He chuckled at her struggle to respond.

“You’re mine, Y/N. Tell me only I can make you feel this good,” He brought his mouth down to her ear as he spoke, kissing her earlobe and panting against her skin as he continued fucking her. He began sucking the skin underneath her ear, prompting her whimpering to intensify.

“You… y-” She stuttered, a loud moan intercepting her sentence as the pleasure grew impossibly unbearable. She was about to cum, he could tell. And so was he.

“Do you fuck all your other girls as good as this, Matt?” She choked out, louder than she intended.

Suddenly, Matt’s movements halted. His hips remained still, and his cock slid out of Y/N’s pussy, not allowing either of them to reach their release. He hovered over her body for a moment, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he struggled to gain his breath. His jaw clenched as he let her words register.

Finally, he pushed up off of her with his arms, his muscles contracting as he held himself up staring down at her once again with his piercing blue eyes. Y/N’s heart pounded, both from the heat of the sex and from the sudden anxiety which washed over her from his profound gaze. She’d never seen him like this before, breathing rapidly and jaw clenched with sudden rage.

“What’s wrong?” She was finally able to utter, her voice small and unconfident. “I don’t know why you’re acting shocked, it’s the truth isn’t it? You do fuck other girls-” She flinched as he instantly moved out of his still state, fully crawling off her body and moving to a sitting position at the edge of the bed. 

“You just killed the mood,” He finally spoke in a chillingly grim tone. He stayed seated, refusing to look back and face Y/N who still lay shaking slightly on the bed. She hugged herself again, it became an instinct which often occurred when Matt was around. 

She watched Matt dig out a flattened pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans which lay disregarded on the floor. He plucked a cigarette from it along with his lighter, placing it in his mouth and sighing as he lit it. 

Y/N felt tears roll down her flushed cheeks, her breathing increasing as a sudden ripple of anger overcame her. She sat up, holding back the sobs which threatened to escape her throat.

“Did I lie, Matt? Can you imagine how I feel? Getting you one day of the week while you see some other girl every other day? What the fuck is this?!” She cried, wrapping her arms around herself in a pathetic attempt to cover her nudity. 

Matt snapped his head back to face her while standing up off the bed. His expression was coloured with rage.

“Well you should have fucking thought of that before agreeing to this then!” He roared, his sudden harsh tone causing her to flinch. 

Matt grabbed for his boxers and swiftly put them on, cigarette still sitting between his lips. The tears fell from Y/N’s eyes, yet she didn’t make a sound. She simply watched him pull his jeans on, buckling his belt, then searching for his shirt. A serious expression remained evident in his face, his brows knit together and nostrils flaring. His dark eyes met her without warning, and her heart jumped.

“I can’t believe you expected any more from me. You know how I am. I’m sorry you were too caught up in your own naivety to realize exactly how much you mean to me.” He wasn’t yelling, but his words were loud, cutting through her heart without mercy. 

Y/N’s mouth fell open, but no words were spoken. Matt watched her break down silently, her heart shattered. She was no longer the beacon of warmth she once was. 

“Fine,” She whispered, not bearing to look him in the eyes. Her head hung down, tears falling, painting the sheets.

“I don’t care what I mean to you. I’ll wait for you next Thursday.”

The soft words pierced through Matt’s own heart. She would still wait. He stood speechless, staring at her small figure hugging itself on the bed, not able to face him. Was that how little she respected herself? She let him speak to her like that, yet still openly stated that she would wait for him. That she expected to see him again next Thursday.

He scoffed at her foolishness, unable to find a response. Because what Matt couldn’t admit to himself was that he was subconsciously thankful to hear those words. He couldn’t help the fact that he still wanted to see her too. Despite everything. 

His mind turned blank. Finally, he was able to move again and quickly grabbed his shirt off the ground. He grinded the cigarette into the ashtray sitting on the bedside table. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bear to be in the room with her anymore. Her words, her lingering affection for him, it was almost painful for him. It caused guilt to well up within him. If he stayed any longer, he knew he would give into his urges and rush to hold her, comfort her and plant kisses into her hair. But he couldn’t do that, he refused to let that vulnerability win the battle which constantly persisted within his mind.

“Yeah… next Thursday. Be ready,” Was all he could say in response. And then he was out the door, not wanting to stay long enough to hear any response from her. He feared it might crush whatever remained of his pride. 

Y/N sat thoughtlessly on the bed. Her mind was still fogged up from the intensity of the events which had occurred. Being with him always ended up being so overwhelming. Her eyes darted to the discarded cigarette which lay in the ashtray. A thin line of smoke still rose from the lit end. Similar to how Matt’s presence still lingered in the room after he had left. 

~

It was Wednesday, almost a week after that unpleasant acquaintance. However, Matt was quick to get over his emotions and occupy his mind with other things. Like this new girl he was in bed with. The two lay sprawled across the motel bed, stupefied under the affects of the drugs they had taken. 

They were in the middle of a lazy makeout session, when Matt took notice of her nails which pawed at his clothed dick. Crimson red.

The girl’s brow furrowed, confused as Matt pulled away without warning, showing no signs of wanting to continue with her. 

“What are you doing?” She questioned, her tone irritatingly loud. Matt thought her voice was quite annoying. Nothing like that of Y/N’s, a softer trill which transcended his thoughts, softening his heart. 

Matt leapt off the bed without saying a word. He palmed his belongings and stumbled out of the room, leaving the girl who’s name he didn’t even remember sitting dumbfounded on the bed. He was still intoxicated, but with a newfound determination. He wanted to see Y/N.

It wasn’t Thursday. But he wanted her. Needed her. 

Matt staggered to his car, jumping in and breathing heavily as he relaxed into the seat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and sat confused as to what his next move would be. God, he wanted to call her, to hear her pretty voice. 

Thus, he fished in his pocket for his phone, his drugged conscience not allowing for any second thoughts. He searched the sea of contacts for her name. He dialed it. It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four…

His heart sank as he waited for her. Until she picked up. His breath hitched, his ears growing warm as he anticipated her voice. He didn’t know what to say. He’d never found himself in such a desperate state before. 

Y/N’s hand shook as she held the phone to her ear. Her heart fluttered as she listened to his breath persist shakily on the other end. Neither of them could say anything.

He had only ever called her on Thursday.

But it’s not Thursday, baby why you calling?

.

.

.

[angelmush]

made a brown butter dutch baby w homemade spiced plum jam and a drizzle of cream for breakfast, shared with my girlfriend who lovingly humors me even tho she doesn’t like dutch babies all that much. we ate in content late-morning quiet, sat beside the dining room chairs that have fallen victim to our piles— of stuffed backpacks for grad-school and an ever growing tower of my most frequently worn handmade winter knits, the items worn multiple times a day to brave the bright cold december when i take the dog outside. this pile consists of a big blue cable sweater i made from wool, a pair of fingerless gloves i knit w scrap yarn, and a soft hood crafted from orange alpaca. i am loving wintertime, with its first true snow of the season and its warm spices and its stockings hung fruitful with gifts on the bookshelf, for lack of a proper mantleplace. i am grateful for the candles and the coziness and the citrus fruits, and for watching the cat perch in the bedroom windowsill, real estate that in the summer months the AC unit occupies with all of its bulking and whirring and thrumming. it is a gift to witness her savoring her seasonal view of the snow blanketed backyard, her gaze trailing determinedly after the flutter of birds.