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tragedybunny · 1 year

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A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)

Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?

This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession

Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.

Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”

“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.

“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.

“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.

Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”

For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”

It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.

The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.

The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.

Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”

“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.

You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.

With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”

“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.

The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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ateliersss · 1 year

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Part 2 - He Is Here

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: After Akail freed himself and then you from your captors, you both had only one thing on your mind — to return home where his father and your mate was waiting for you. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 4.768 Part 1: here Masterlist

⇨ I started making it, tried my best, had a break down, then I listened to Lana Del Rey and my brain started working again. This is the result. I hope I didn't fail your expectations and you like it anyway.

⇨ Also, did you ever actually listen to their clicking/purring noises? Because I DID!

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

Fresh air, the rustling of leaves on the surrounding trees, the moonlight, even the hooting of an owl — you never thought you would appreciate these things the way you did right now.

Especially now as your son was holding you tightly in his arms, running away, leaving the facility site behind. You had already put quite a distance between here and there and yet you could still hear the blaring alarm of their security system.

To distract yourself, you focused on the safe embrace of Akail's strong arms, watched the surroundings passing by, and listened to the sounds he made. He tried to calm you down, but since you couldn't understand any of his words, this attempt failed.

The one thing you didn’t want to focus on was the blood.

The alarm went off while you were still stuck in this awful white room with that strange woman, announcing that your son had broken free. Immediately you were yanked out of the room and into the corridor, not caring that moving was difficult for you. The woman had tried to persuade the two men to be more careful, but they just ignored her and didn't stop dragging you roughly with them.

The grip they had on you was painful, the flickering lights and the alarm agitated you even more, and the fact that you didn't know what they were going to do to you, now that an angry alien was on the loose, frightened you.

You thought about the consequences of what you were about to do. Since you couldn't imagine anything worse than what you had already experienced, you just did it. You screamed. You screamed for your son in hopes he would hear you.

One of the men holding you pulled your thrashing body towards him to have a better hold on you, to silence you. You didn't stop fighting and even bit his fingers to stop him from restraining your voice.

You both stopped struggling with each other when suddenly a bloodcurdling roar erupted from behind you.

The small group turned around and encountered the looming figure of Akail. He had found you, like the clever boy he was.

Admittedly, it had been quite a sight. His body trembled with fury, his back arched and his mandibles flared. The armor and equipment that had been taken from him were now back in his possession and on his body. Even from this distance, you could see the blood as if he had bathed in it.

Blood, that was now also on the hideous white suit you were wearing.

Out of fear, and maybe it really just had been a reflex, the man holding you pushed you away.

Luckily — more or less, depending if you were either the big, enraged alien or the tiny, terrified human — you landed on your knees and the hand outstretched trying to catch you, the other hand wrapped around your swollen belly as an instinctive protective mechanism. The impact hurt, but at least your pup remained unharmed.

It had been the wrong thing to do, really. Watching someone hurt you and thus possibly his unborn brother drove him feral. All it took was one tearful look from you and he charged for your captors.

You scrambled to the wall and out of his attack zone. Closing your eyes, you only listened as one by one died in one painful way or another.

You were used to the most obscure, disgusting, and repulsive corpses as you and your mate occasionally went on hunting trips at home. However, the whole situation — from you being captured, the imprisonment, you not knowing what had happened to your son and how he was doing, to the present moment — had pushed you to your limit.

When the helpless pleas and painful screams finally died down, you felt two big hands picking you up. You buried your face into his strong chest, preventing you from catching even a second's glimpse of the bloody masses around you.

It was over, you tried to compose yourself.

Akail was still running, not faltering once. His mind was set on one thing and one thing only — getting you to the safety of your Scout Ship.

Soon you reached a familiar river and a clearing. Your tensed shoulders relaxed when you saw the huge outline of it. The human may have said that they had found the ship, but it was still there where you had left it. Apparently, they had made no move yet to transport it to their base.

You sighed happily. It meant one step closer to home.

Although you were now in safe surroundings, Akail did not put you down and carried you until you reached the belly of the ship where he kept his weapons and gear such as his masks and armor. You smiled up at him when he seated you on top of the huge workbench occupying the middle of the room where he normally repaired or worked on his equipment. The glass surface cooled your adrenaline-heated skin.

Akail exited the room while you settled into a more comfortable position, legs dangling slightly as you looked down at your baby bump and stroked it. You closed your eyes and listened to your inner voice. There was no pain, no other feeling close to discomfort that should worry you. In fact, you felt your sweetling kick against your hand.

You heard the well-known clicks of Akail, announcing you weren’t alone anymore. He was back, holding familiar gadgets in his hands. One of them were two earpieces that translated every spoken word of a Yautja in real-time. They were created especially for you and practically disappeared when you wore them, making your ears appear perfectly normal as if they weren't even there. The other gadget was a tight-fitting necklace made out of black metal with silver accents that translated your words into the Yautja language.

Their technology did wonders. The way both things worked was way beyond your comprehension.

The moment the earpieces were in your ears and the necklace was around your neck, Akail asked, “Mother, how you feeling?”

Thanks to the workbench, you were more or less at eye level so you could put a hand on his cheek, your thumb stroking the scale-like skin, as he nuzzled into it. “I’m fine, my little warrior.” You reassured him.

You felt his clawed hand gently press against your stomach.

You chuckled. “Yes, your little mei’hswei is fine, too.” As if to confirm your words, your pup started to kick against his brother's hand. “See?”

Akail shook his head, the clicking sounds growing urgent.

You sighed. “I promise, as soon as we arrive home I will go to Cahrein. He will survey me to confirm that everything is fine.”

That seemed to soothe him as he nodded. “Good.”

You smiled up at him and cupped his cheeks to pull him closer so you could reach his forehead to place a gentle kiss there. He immediately started making a purring noise. You had to suppress a laugh at that reaction. Instead, the smile on your lips widened.

No matter how many trophies he owned, demonstrating he was a killing machine, no matter that he was the son of a clan leader, no matter that he was Blooded, showing his level of maturity — he was still your little boy who sometimes longed for the comfortable and safe embrace of his mother’s arms.

At this moment, Akail felt like he was set back into the time when he was just a pup. It actually happened every time his mother showered him with affection.

When he was a Youngling, barely reaching your hip, some of the Un-Blooded — all still immature and not yet careful with their words like teenagers in their puberty on Earth — had harassed him about his non-Yautja part even though he was the pure image of his father, no indicator that he was partly human.

Already in his young years, he had developed a need to protect you. As soon as even one of them mentioned either your name or the word ooman, he landed the first punch which had degenerated into a fight which he mostly lost with his smaller size and his little combat experience compared to theirs. He lied to you about how he got the injuries when you tended to them. He didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to tell you how those stupid, thoughtless Un-Blooded had disrespected you.

As he grew older and bigger, his father training him hard, the harassment stopped and turned into more friendly, harmless teasing coming from his friends and those with whom he had trained for the initiation hunt. They didn’t dare to treat you any other way than the mate of the Clan Leader deserved to be treated — with respect, obedience, acceptance, and appreciation. You were who you were, but with the things you've done in your years since arriving on Yautja Prime, you'd proven yourself.

From his friends, he had learned that Yautja mothers stopped pampering their pups the second they touched a weapon to train to be hunters.

“Too much coddling and spoiling love made you soft.”

That’s what every Youngling grew up with, but here he was. He was one of the strongest, one of the most determined, and one of the most promising Yautja in his clan, maybe even on his planet. Expectations were high considering who his father was and he would one day be following in his huge (figurative) footsteps, which he hoped to eventually fill.

And all that with a human who never stopped showing him her motherly love since the day he was born.

He was proud you were his mother, thankful, never ashamed. He would never dare to feel any different about you, not when you had stood against all odds to carry him in your belly and fought against death to give birth to him. That made you stronger than any other Yautja mother and he would never think about trading you to be pureblooded.

While his father forged him into a great and powerful fighter, showed him to be strong-willed, hard-working, and brave — the typical journey for Yautja to become hunters and respectable members of a clan — you had taught him mercy, thoughtfulness, and compassion. You tried to teach him at least a few things that were of great value on Earth, things that demonstrated that his mixed genetic heritage made him much more diverse than others.

“I’m going to contact your father to tell him we will be home soon.” You suddenly said.

Akail stepped aside to make room for you to get off the working bench. He offered you a hand when you started to struggle with the height of it and gently helped you to get your feet on the solid metal ground of the ship. While you waddled to your quarters, he turned to the door leading to the cockpit to start the engines and finally get off this damn planet.

The ship was built in such a way that you didn't even feel it take off a few seconds later while you pressed the right buttons to reach your mate. With one hand on your stomach, you turned around and encountered the holographic image of Mi'ytiar being projected into the center of the room by a device built into the ceiling.

You let out a shaky but happy breath. “My love.” You greeted him with a relieved smile as he reached out to place his large hand on the side of your face, the palm on your cheek and his clawed fingers in your hair.

Normally you would lean into his touch, but since that hand was only a projection, you kept your head still to at least give him the illusion that you were standing in front of him.

You wished you were standing in front of him. You longed for him. You missed him so, so much.

You watched his beautiful eyes dart over your face and then to the strange cloth you were wearing, looking for any signs that indicated the blood on it was yours.

“Yawne, what happened?” He demanded, his voice hard but concerned.

You bit your lower lip, already anticipating his reaction.

Mi'ytiar was calm and composed when it came to sticky situations, but his temper quickly overwhelmed him when it came to you. Last time he had challenged an Elder of all people who simply had handled you with more strength than necessary, completely forgetting that humans were far frailer than his kind. It had been merely an accident, but it had turned into a disaster.

So the first thing you wanted to do was to reassure him as you said, “I’m fine.”

His mandibles flared, a hiss escaping his lips. “What happened?”

You sighed. “Humans. They captured Akail.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “They used the control on his arm to find the ship.” You paused for a moment and sighed. “I left it for some fresh air. They found me outside and brought me to the same facility they took our son to.”

Predicting his answer, you forestalled him before he could even open his mouth. “No! Don’t say it.” You hissed.

Mi'ytiar straightened his slightly bent position towards you in surprise. He looked at you with his head cocked to his side, not breaking the intense eye contact.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally relented and lowered his head. The gesture always made you feel powerful. It meant submission; only with you, never others.

Proud of yourself, you squared your shoulders and held your head high.

Sometimes there were small disagreements between you and your mate, but instead of arguing, you both only looked at each other while a silent battle was fought between your gazes. Mi'ytiar always backed down first, secretly loving your dominance, but also cursing your stubbornness.

You were his Life Mate, the human female he treated as his equal. Completely fascinated and smitten by your softness and loving nature, he was wrapped around your finger and would bend to your will. You had a certain power over him and you loved it, knowing that a being like him was capable of acting this way.

“I know I should have listened to you. You told me to stay within the safety of the ship and I should have listened to you. But I didn’t and I put our pup in danger. I’m sorry, tanhì.” You admitted, looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Akail?”

“He freed himself and then me.” You answered, before adding in a whisper, “He killed everyone.”

His mandibles clicking, he said, “Good.” before eyeing the suit sullenly.

Mi'ytiar didn’t mind seeing you bloody. In fact, there had been times when the prey the two of you had been hunting together had bled all over you, which had aroused him to the point where he had just grabbed you and fucked you on the forest floor.

But he didn’t like this, not at all. The color wasn’t right. It was too red, too human. The possibility that it could be yours worried him far too much.

But it wasn’t yours. You had told him so and deep down he knew that, but it made him feel unsettled nonetheless.

In the meantime, you watched him and the hardly noticeable change in his eyes. He was very caring, something you loved the most about him, so you planned on putting him at ease when you reached behind you to open the suit. The light fabric slipped down your body and gathered at your feet. You stepped out of it and kicked it away with your foot.

Now you stood in front of him in all your naked glory. Your plan must have worked, because he didn’t hesitate to step forward and engulf your now much more visible stomach with his clawed hand. His infatuation with your pregnant body was beyond you.

Three months into your first pregnancy, a neighboring clan visited yours for feasts and a hunt. There you got to know a woman named Vulpine, the first human you ever met on Yautja Prime. She was soon to be mated with her Yautja who had only recently decided to commit himself fully to her, thus renouncing any sexual or even romantic relationship with other females. That’s how the concept of being Life Mates worked, after all.

You pestered her with questions. Not only how long she had been here, how she was coping with life on this strange planet and who her Yautja was, but also how he treated her in a pregnant state. Turns out, the only Yautja who was that infatuated with his mate being pregnant was Mi'ytiar.

Another thing was that he had been over the moon when you had finally voiced out your wish to carry his pup. He had taken such great care of you during your pregnancy, coddling you, literally hovering over you, not letting you out of his sight.

You had always wondered why he had been acting this way — maybe it was due to the fact that you were human and therefore you and your body were just different — but you never thought it was necessary to actually question him about it.

After a while you said, “We’ll be home soon, my love.”

“Good.” Mi'ytiar replied, nodding. “I will await you.”

And that’s what he did.

As soon as the ship landed, the ramp extended and the door opened, you saw Mi'ytiar standing there, waiting. You didn’t even hesitate to rush to him. He responded by lowering himself to one knee and reaching out to you, catching you when you threw yourself into his arms.

His mandibles clicked happily when he finally could touch you again and feel his unborn pup. He had missed you both so dearly. To be closer to his little one, he made himself even smaller, almost sitting on the floor, and pressed his forehead on your stomach while one hand rested on your hip and the other on the back of your thigh. Purring, he enjoyed the familiar closeness to his sweetling.

You were a mess, bursting with emotions — those goddamn pregnancy hormones — as you ran your fingers through his dreadlocks, felt their warmth and fleshy texture, and played with one of the golden rings Mi'ytiar used to style it, as you liked to call it.

While the two of you were completely engaged with each other, not caring what happened around you, you hadn't noticed how your son had also eventually left the ship to join the both of you.

“Father.” Akail greeted, announcing his presence.

Mi'ytiar lifted his head before pulling away from you to stand up. As was customary for Yautja, he placed a hand on Akail's shoulder in greeting and shook it slightly. Then he grabbed his son’s upper arms with his hands, Akail did the same, and they both put their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment before pulling away to talk.

You didn’t feel like you had to listen to them, so you didn’t, but you watched them with a smile. There stood your favorite people in the universe, your family, your whole world.

Soon, Mi'ytiar turned around and made his way back to you. Before you could say anything, he put one arm under your armpits and one under your knees, lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you away, knowing him to Cahrein, the healer.

You liked Cahrein and the feeling was mutual. He was responsible for tending to the wounded and sick, helped the females during their pregnancies and birth, provided ingredients, and maintained tools for the Medicomp when Yautja went on off-world hunts.

He was rather serious and professional, but you could see the curious excitement when Mi'ytiar first had brought you to him. You were a whole different species to him, something new he could learn about.

It was nothing unusual for your mate to accompany you on your check-ups, so Cahrein thankfully didn’t ask any questions, only saying a word when he confirmed what you had already told both, the father and brother of the pup — everything was fine.

That was all Mi'ytiar needed to know before he dragged you away and to your home where he shed you of your clothes and fucked you like a wild animal that was starved of your touch, sating his needs.

It felt like hours had passed when your sweaty and naked body slumped back against Mi'ytiar's torso, exhausted and fully satisfied. Mi'ytiar nuzzled into the hair on the back of your head.

While you were still trying to catch your breath, he regarded the bite mark he had left on your shoulder out of the corner of his eye. The sharp tips of his mandibles had broken into the skin on the front and back of your upper arm, your shoulder blade, and the spot of your chest where your heart was still beating frantically. Meanwhile, his teeth had dug into the edge of your shoulder, making it bleed.

You squirmed in his lap when he licked the dried blood to clean you.

When he was done, he gently took a hold of your hair to put it over your shoulder and out of the way. His eyes fixed on the second bite mark. This one he had placed on the nape of your neck. When he was done cleaning you there too, he chattered happily, proud that he had so evidently marked you as his own.

You tilted your head back to look at him. “What?”

“It never was able with other female.” He said, “Marking.”

You tensed at that before you lowered your head with your lips pressed together. You knew you were acting like a child when he placed his index and middle finger on your cheek to turn your head to look at him, but you stubbornly refused to do so. You even leaned forward to break the skin contact between your back and his torso. You had to bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan as his cock was still inside you, keeping his seed where it belonged. Even in its now soft state, it was still able to send pleasure down your spine.

Although you knew that only some Yautja were permanently bonded to each other and most of them had several mating partners, you had totally forgotten that he, of course, had been with other females before you. In fact, you had never really thought about it. The thought had never occurred to you as he had always been completely devoted to you.

Irrational jealousy took hold of you. Of course, it was completely normal for one’s partner to have been with others before you. That's how it worked on Earth, too. Nothing special, nothing unusual, and yet you hated it.

You had been 26 when Mi'ytiar took you with him. A year earlier you had broken up with a boy you had been dating for two years, and you had a few one-night stands before and after that. You had never cared about their former partners.

Now you did.

“What is it, yawne?”

“Nothing.” You mumbled, your lips twisted into a defiant pout. “It’s just… I never thought about other females having you like this.” You were still facing away from him as you continued, “It makes my blood boil knowing someone else has had you before me.”

A strange possessive feeling surged through you as you turned around to look him straight in the eye. “You are mine, only mine.” You said before turning back around, resulting in you not noticing him almost bursting with pride.

You were lost in your thoughts, completely missing his low, rumbling laugh. He thought you were adorable like this, secretly wallowing in your possessiveness. It made him happy, knowing he was able to elicit such feelings from you.

The next thought you voiced out was one you had back in the days when you still felt unworthy as the Life Mate of the great Mi'ytiar. “It makes me question why you chose me of all people to be bound to you forever and to bear you pups, something I never even thought would be possible. They easily could have given them to you.”

Now that you said it out loud, you realized one thing in horror — pups.

Pups with other females. His pups with other females. His pups with someone that wasn’t you. How did you never think about that too?! He never had mentioned them, not that you knew, but if…

“They could not.” Mi'ytiar interrupted your panicking thoughts.

“What?” You turned your upper body to look at him, his honest eyes looking back.

With his help, you fully turned around in his lap to face him without losing the closest, most intimate connection you both still had; between your legs. He placed his hands on your waist to pull you as close as your stomach would allow.

“I provide for clan in many ways. I am leader. I lead, I protect and I care for them. It is honorable to strengthen clan with pups. Only my seed never took. No female carried my pup. It was shameful to not provide clan with pups. Especially as leader.”

He paused to play with a loose strand of your hair. His fascination with it wasn’t something you couldn’t quite understand, but you didn’t mind.

“When you and I met, you was what I wanted. Objections were made when I dedicated my being to you, but I did not care. I could not provide with pups anyway.” He told you. “I forgot about them. I only wanted you, yawne.”

“I only wanted you, too.” You replied, smiling up at him. “Do you remember when we became Life Mates and you introduced me to a group of females so they could teach me more about the planet, the clan, the dynamics in it, and such? They taught me all the things the mate of a clan leader needed to know.”

One of those had been the mating act. You laughed quietly when you thought back to your reaction as they told you that fighting for submission was something like foreplay to them. First, the male had to succeed before the mating act could start. It certainly explained why Mi'ytiar had been confused the first time you had sex.

The affection and trust you had for him had been finally big enough that you decided to get involved with him in a more intimate way. Until then he had waited for you to give him permission to mate with you. You would never have credited him with such patience, but you hadn’t been the only one who had learned about his kind. While you took your time to get used to your new life, he had also learned about humans.

Not enough apparently because he had looked at you in astonishment like you were broken when you had just let him take off your clothes — clothing that was based on the Yautja style, made of leather, fur and, after a short trip back to Earth, thankfully also soft cotton — and you let him manhandle you.

But you did snap at him when he had been too rough and you had needed more time to get used to this new feeling. After your first time together it was your turn to teach a Yautja about you; about the female body and what it needed before he could ravish you, how he could pleasure it and take care of it.

“One of the females was pregnant at that time.” You continued, “And I wanted that, too. I wanted to carry your pup.”

“And you did, yawne.” Mi'ytiar purred. “Made me so happy when you told me you wanted my pup.” He turned your body to sit sideways on his lap, so he could pull you in with one hand for a cuddle while the other rested on your belly. “You gave what no female could. Proof I am not failure.” He nuzzled into the side of your head. “You are parul, my miracle.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that of course he wasn't a failure, but you closed it again, deciding to let him have his moment. Instead, you put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer to you.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, only his purring filled the air.

continue with the third part He Shan't Lose

#predator #predator x you #predator x reader #predator x human #yautja x you #yautja x reader #yautja x human

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silent-stories · 1 year

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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝟑 𝐀.𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Hopper!Reader (adopted or not)

Summary: Your dad would never approve of your relationship with Eddie, so you sneak out for a night walk in the woods with him.

00.13 a.m

"Where are you going?" Eleven's voice reached your ears as you got out of your bed trying not to make the slightest noise that could disturb the silent night.

You turned around as your bare feet touched the wooden floor, and you found your little sister sitting on her bed looking at you quizzically and half asleep, her wavy hair falling over her eyes.

You sighed, staring at the window you'd intended to jump down that night, the moonlight was filtering through the glass and reflecting off the floor as you walked over to El's bed. "Can you keep a secret like a good sister?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Am I not a good sister?"

"What? No, of course you are, it's just that... Dad doesn't have to know, okay?" You explained, whispering and hoping that Hopper in the room next to yours was snoring loud enough to drown out your voices.

El nodded.

"I'm seeing a boy."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Is he the boy with pretty eyes you were talking about last week?"

You froze, either El was a very smart kid or you weren't paying attention at all when you were talking about Eddie with her. "Yeah...yeah he is."

"Why Hopper doesn't have to know?"

"Because when your dad is a cop and your boyfriend has already been arrested three times, family dinners might get a little awkward."

El nodded, thinking silently. "Why was he arrested?"

"The first time because he caught him selling dr..." You stopped, thinking that these weren't things El should have known, cursing the thousand questions he could every time in your mind. "It's not really important."

"He's not a bad guy, is he? Hopper says he only arrests bad guys."

A corner of your lips lifted at the thought of El worrying about you. "No. Absolutely not. A lot of people think he is but...he's not. He's sweet and...he cares about me."

A smile appeared on the girl's lips. "He's like Mike!"

"Like Mike?" You scoffed. "He's way better than Mike."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"But it's very important that you don't tell dad, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Good luck with the boy with pretty eyes."

You giggled, bringing a hand to ruffle her hair. "You are the best sister ever."

You pulled on the boots you'd left in the corner of the room and grabbed a jacket off a chair.

El waved to you as you slowly opened the window and sat on the edge, breathing in the fresh but not too cold air of the night.

You waved back to her and smiled before jumping out the window, your boots making a soft thud as they hit the wood of the porch.

You looked around for a moment, enjoying the silence of the night which wasn't really a silence, after all.

You could hear an owl in the distance, the croaking of frogs and the squealing of some of the small animals that lived in the woods. Two bats flew over you one after the other almost as if they were playing and you instinctively ducked so as not to collide with them.

You looked around, searching for the spot among the trees and bushes where the path that would take you to where Eddie told you you would meet started.

You breathed in the air that smelled of moss and wet grass. Then, after taking one last look at your house, you went into the woods.

00.39 a.m

When you saw him, his back was leaning against a big old looking tree, he was wearing a black shirt with a red flannel over it. As soon as he saw you a big smile appeared on his face as he walked towards you.

You'd always loved the way his face lit up whenever he saw you, as if just your presence made him happier.

It was night and probably someone would have been frightened to see a figure in the woods walking towards them, in the dark of the night illuminated only by the light of the moon, but not you, you would have recognized him even without the slightest light.

"Hey, princess. I almost thought your dad caught you." He said as he reached up to you and his lips met yours in a quick but soft kiss.

"Baby, you know I love you-"

"But?" His expression suddenly turned concerned.

"But you could have chosen a more recognizable place, I walked around this fucking wood for half an hour before I found you." You chuckled before pushing him back towards you, placing a hand behind his neck as your fingers tangled with his hair. "But you're worth it."

When your lips parted, Eddie looked at the tree he was leaning against some moments bofore. "But I described this tree to you perfectly!"

You rolled your eyes. "No, you told me it looked like Treebeard from the Lord of the Rings. And trust me, even though I've read it dozens of times it wasn't that easy to find."

He chuckled as he put his arm around your shoulders and started your night walk.

"Did you just say you've read The Lord of the Rings dozens of times?"

You huffed but raised an arm to intertwine your fingers with his. "That wasn't the point."

When you felt his fingers brushing your face, you turned your head towards his hand to leave a kiss on his knuckles.

A smirk was on his lips now. "I knew my girlfriend was a nerd."

1.26 a.m

"She has hair like yours, but her ears are pointed, because, you know, she's an elf. She's kind and always willing to help her companions but it's best not to make her mad because she's also a ruthless killer who won't hesitate to cut your insides to pieces if you do hurt her family." Eddie continued to tell you about his latest DnD campaign, describing the new characters in great detail, his arm still around your shoulders as you continued walking through the woods, following the path.

When you went out at night to meet him in the woods like that, sometimes you were afraid that you would get lost and that you would never be able to get out again, but then you always remembered that you had Eddie by your side and that if something like that happened he would turn him into a another one of your adventures.

"Her eyes the exact same shade as yours and-"

"Wait…did you base one of your characters on me?" You asked with a smirk.

"Maybe?" His uncertain tone let you know that the sincere answer would be yes.

"Well, what an honor, I wonder if-"

A sudden rustle coming from the bushes in front of you made you stop, your last words echoing in the silence of the woods.

"Did you hear that?" You asked, your voice reduced to a whisper.

"Yeah." Eddie's arm was softly pushing you behind him, as if to protect you from some possible danger but you stopped him and stayed beside him even after his glare.

"What if it's a wolf?" You asked as you continued to stare at the bushes moving.

"There are no wolves in Indiana."

"How do you know?"

"I've never seen one."

"Yes, because they usually hide behind bushes like that one."

When the snout of a weird animal popped up in the branches, your grip on Eddie's arm loosened.

"Oh, it doesn't look like a wolf."

A raccoon scrurred towards you, sniffing the ground probably looking for something to eat.

"Hey Buddy!" Eddie exclaimed as if he was saying hi to an old friend.

You brought your arms to your sides. "What? Do you know the raccoon?"

"I think it's the same one who's always hanging around the trailer area. Sometimes I leave him food." He explained with a smile on his lips as he knelt down and the raccoon approached him curiously.

"Eddie, it could carry some disease."

"Oh, shut up. Look how cute he is."

"All right, Snow White, go ahed. Don't come complaining to me when you have rabies." You commented as Eddie patted the raccoon's head like it was a puppy.

Eddie Munson.

The boy that people thought was a cult leader who worshiped the devil.

The boy who tried to hide his true feelings and his soft side to protect himself, creating an armor around himself, through which only those who really knew him could see.

Eddie Munson, who was called a "freak" by almost every single Hawkings resident, was kneeling in the mud to pet a raccoon, claiming he was "cute".

When he stood up, you instinctively pushed him towards you for a kiss, his lips were warm even if the night was cool.

He smiled. "What was this for?"

"Because you are so fucking pretty."

He scoffed. "Pretty? I'm not pr-"

He didn't have time to reply that your lips were on his again."Don't argue with me."

A kind of squeak, after a few minutes, made you separate.

Between your feet, walked four little raccoons, their black and white muzzles pointed at you, as if asking what the hell you were doing in the woods in the middle of the night.

"I think your raccoon is a mom."

Eddie chuckled when one of them tried to climb up your leg, falling after a few seconds.

"Who is Snow White now?"

"Oh, shut up."

2.00 a.m

"I don't wanna do that anymore." You said as you sat next to Eddie at the foot of one of the trees around Lover's Lake.

The moonlight reflected off the water surface creating an atmosphere of complete calm and the croaking of the frogs was all around you.

Eddie turned to you with a worried expression, you could almost see his anxiety suddenly rise and you cursed your choice of words.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No!" You exclaimed, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, absolutely not. I meant hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Going out at night, you know. I want to tell my father about us." You explained.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves and nearly drowned out Eddie's only word. "Oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. It sure will be for him though. I don't think he likes me very much." He added the last part with a not-quite-genuine chuckle, probably thinking back to all the times he'd been arrested before.

"Eddie, I love you. So he'll get over it."

He pulled you closer to him, until you sat between his legs, and planted a kiss on your head as you rested your back against his chest. "I love you too" He murmured. "But I'm not sure your family would approve."

"Oh, my sister already knows about us." You commented, saying it like it was nothing important, but waiting for his reaction.

"What?"

You raised your head slightly towards him, your nose brushed his cheek.

"She caught me sneaking out." You explained. "But she said she's happy for us."

Eddie let out what felt like a sigh of relief.

"Good, because I don't want the little girl with superpowers against me." He chuckled.

"I would protect you with my life." You were joking, even though what you were saying wasn't too far from reality.

He giggled when you dropped a few kisses on his neck, since you couldn't reach his face from your position.

"And what about your father?" he asked after a few moments.

"He's never even given you a fine. And trust me, he usually gives a lot of them. I think he kinda likes you already."

"But he put handcuffs on me once."

"And you ran away and kept them."

His laughter echoed through the trees as his chest vibrated against your back. "I did."

"No, but seriously." You added. "I wanna tell him. And if he doesn't approve, fuck him. I'm happy when I'm with you."

Eddie held you tighter, but, as always, careful not to hurt you, enjoying the last few moments together before you both have to go home.

"He's really gonna put me in jail, this time."

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'll post bail."

3.14 am

You knew something was wrong when you saw that the light in your room was on.

Getting in from the window, you found yourself in front of Hopper, sitting on your bed with his arms crossed over his chest and the most pissed expression ever.

"I swear I didn't say anything!" El exclaimed, sitting cross-legged on her bed. You knew from her almost desperate tone that she meant it.

"You are up early this morning, aren't you?" You asked with a half laugh, trying to defuse.

"There are two options." He said curtly pointing an accusing finger at you. "You're either a werewolf or you owe me an explanation."

You thought about it for a moment.

"I am a werewolf?"

Not even El could hold back a laugh.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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starry-eyed-wild-child · 4 months

Text

🌾 charlie walker boyfriend headcanons 🌾

charlie walker x reader

. my sweet, sweet baby charlie - this man is so obsessed with you

. like it's low-key creepy but in such a sweet way you'd never even know

. i like to imagine you probably met in his film club, but he'd probably seen you in the hallways at school and he was just smitten after that. or even if you sat behind him in history class or smth and he tried his hardest to not look at you

. will be the most loyal boyfriend you could ever imagine, this man would die (and kill) for you in a heartbeat

. okay so, either you had to ask him out OR a bunch of mutual friends grouped together to get yous together because they were just sick of your pining

. honestly, robbie's ears are talked off about you, poor guy can't catch a break

. speaking of robbie, he definitely teases charlie about his little crush and will subtly drop hints in front of you just to embarrass him

. but robbie is also definitely 1000% your biggest fan, this man would literally make a movie just about how awkward your get together was, he adores you and thinks you're perfect for his best friend

. charlie stutters a lot when talking to you, he just struggles to believe he actually pulled you, the girl of his dreams. and he BLUSHES too, omg this man is a walking mess for you

. movie dates ofc are a given, if you're not a fan of horror movies, charlie will still happily sit and watch whatever you want. i personally think that charlie would draw the line at rom-coms tho, but that's just my personal opinion. like he will, but he'll criticise it all the way to the credits

. charlie is 100% a night owl. you'll probably be waking up as charlie is getting ready to go to sleep. not that he likes watching you sleep or anything 😳

. BOARD GAMES - play some cluedo with this pathetic little man, he lives for board game nights. play some music in the background, a bottle of cheap rum or smth between the two of you and that's charlie's dream night fr

. absolutely loves holding your hand in public. I don't think that's charlie's that big on pda but he's a sucker for hand holding and nose kisses

. is the king of remembering little details about you. remember that necklace that you got when you were six but lost somehow? no? charlie definitely does and would probably get you a new one

. his favourite thing is your eyes. it's his absolute favourite colour. he'd get a bracelet specifically with a stone that is the same colour so he can look at it when he misses you

. loves listening to music with you and making you your own playlist. he's the stereotypical romantic of where he loves sharing earphones with you so you can listen together 🥹

. okay I hate to admit it, but charlie is probably a terrible cook. BUT he tries his hardest to cook your favourite foods for you just to see you smile

. the most giggly, awkward boyfriend you've ever had and ever will have. he loves your smile, he's always trying to make you laugh

. I have a theory that charlie's laugh is very contagious. this man would giggle once and have the whole class in a fit of giggles because his laugh is just so adorable

. wear. his. shirts. this man LIVES to see you in his clothes

. would probably eventually end up giving you the ones he doesn't wear anymore

."they look better on you anyway" 😖 an absolute sweetheart

. soft, gentle kisses are the usual. he's so gentle with you like he's scared you'll break ALTHOUGH when he kisses you, he will grip at your waist really tight

. will not, under any circumstances, have you involved with the ghostface killings. charlie can be quite frightening when he's angry so he makes sure jill knows her place

. would probably lie to you about his involvement, as much as he hates lying to you, he couldn't stand the thought of you hating him and leaving

. no seriously, charlie would have a full on mental break down if you were to ever leave him or break up with him

. speaking of breaking up with him, lol, yeah no... not happening. it's the last thing he'd let you do

. the relationship is low-key a bit toxic but in a 'you can't leave, you're the only person I have' kinda way? y'know?

. sex would be hella awkward at first, charlie would have absolutely no clue on what to do, poor boy :(

. he just wants to make you feel good. speaking of which, PRAISE. praise this man, he thrives of knowing how good he makes you feel

. loves you on top, and when you tug at his hair when you're close to finishing

. is the most whiny mess during sex. he's so LOUD. he moans, groans, whines and whimpers so much and he's not embarrassed by it either

. makes sure you cum first every single time. charlie will not stop until you do, even if it take until morning

. king of aftercare. he'll clean you up, cuddle with you, talk with you, make you a cup of tea and a snack, All OF IT

. don't be fooled though, he loves some aftercare himself. playing with his hair as you lie on him, completely blissed out. cuddle him, tell him how good he was, and boy MELTS

. overall the dream boyfriend and i'm desperate for a charlie in my life (rory culkin a chance, please?!)

. 100/10 would recommend

#scream #scream 4 #charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 year

Note

poly!marauders meets apocalypse? maybe some kind of trope where they got separated from the reader at the beginning of it all and while they knew all the spots they were likely to meet up at they just kept missing each other, times being off and such! + like after some time them finally find their way back together

Thanks for requesting my love! Idk how the first war went (fake fan!) but I imagine this “apocalypse” as during that time, something like the wizarding world in the Deathly Hallows after the death eaters take the ministry? I hope this is alright <3

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

It’s getting dark, and you know that you can’t sleep here but you probably will anyway.

The cave isn’t a very comfortable place to spend the night, nor does it allow much room for hiding. If some troop of death eaters manages to track you here, you’ll be cornered, but you’ve long since gotten over the fear of being found. That panic lives in your bones now. It’s like your heartbeat, so inseparable from you that you don’t even notice it most the time.

And honestly, if they want to find you here, let them. You’ve got nowhere else to go.

This is the last place you could think of that the boys might come looking for you, the last place that hasn’t been found and desecrated and reduced to searing rubble. James told you once that they used to slip away during trips to Hogsmeade and explore these caves when they were younger. There are dozens of them, but he talked about one, the biggest, at the top of the hill, that they’d made their favorite hideout. You hope he remembers telling you as clearly as you remember hearing it. If they don’t find you here, you’ll have to face the question of whether you know your boyfriends as well as you think you do. Or whether you still have boyfriends to know.

The view from their cave would normally be spectacular, Hogsmeade all lit up and surrounded by woodlands, but knowing that only makes what you’re actually looking down at seem worse. The usually quaint and lively town is abandoned. You can’t detect any movements in the streets and not a single lamppost is lit. What had been such a beacon of joy and fun during your time at Hogwarts, a place tied to some of your best memories—saving money when you were little for sweets at Honeydukes, getting butterbeer with your friends at the Three Broomsticks, watching performers in the square—has been reduced to this ghost town, dark and lonely and vacant but for the poor souls too frightened to leave their homes.

Even as bleak as the town appears, your stomach grumbles looking down at it. Luckily, you’ve been able to utilize your skill with the obliviate charm to steal from muggle corner stores without anyone noticing, but though you leave the memories of the clerks largely intact, you still feel awful about it. No matter what food you smuggle away, guilt turns it bland and unappetizing in your mouth, and you haven’t tried to find a meal in a couple of days. Remus is good with illusions, if he were with you he could make money out of leaves and walk out of restaurants without having to tamper with the muggles themselves. Or if James still has the invisibility cloak, you could be using it to get all kinds of things without raising any suspicion.

An owl hoots in the trees below you, and your head snaps up out of some hopeful instinct. But no, no one is sending you letters here. You’re not even sure if owls are allowed anymore, or if there’s anyone left who would write to you. You wish desperately that Remus was here to tell you you’re being silly, that Voldemort’s followers couldn’t possibly have squashed every ounce of rebellion in just a couple weeks, or Sirius to make fun of the robes the death eaters wear like third years in their rebellious goth phase, or James to hug you and promise, however emptily, that it’ll all be alright in the end.

But as much as you miss the boys, you’re glad they have each other. At least, last you saw them they did.

There’s a shuffling of rocks outside, and you flinch away from the mouth of the cave. It could be an animal, or the wind, but you can’t chance it. You move as quietly as you can to the darkness in the back, pressing yourself against a wall and doing your best to sink into the shadows as you slip your wand free of your shirtsleeve. You’ve got an expelliarmus on your tongue, hoping desperately that will be enough and too cautious to hope for anything more, when the first dark figure climbs into the entrance of the cave.

“Merlin,” a male voice says, shrugging a pack off onto the floor, “it used to feel a bit bigger, don’t you think?”

A choked sob gives away your location, but it hardly matters, because in the next instant you’re racing towards the figure, shoes slipping clumsily on the damp ground. He curses, scrambling for his wand, but then you’re on him, and it’s all he can do to stay upright as your arms go around his neck.

He recognizes you then, gasping your name just as the other two boys make their way up to the landing. They’re mere silhouettes against the twilight outside, but even through your tear-blurred vision you’d know them anywhere. You make a high-pitched keening sound, and Sirius and Remus both rush to you, smushing you and James between them.

You can’t stop crying, splintered, gasping sobs like a child that doesn’t know how to live in the world on its own. You know James is weeping too from the wetness seeping into the collar of your shirt, and you think it’s Sirius’ hand that’s fisted in the back of your coat, but it really doesn’t matter. They’re here. They’re all here.

“I didn’t think you’d come here,” Remus says, voice ragged.

You laugh, and it’s a rough, awful sound, rusty from weeks of disuse. “I wasn’t sure you would either.”

“Fuck, baby.” Sirius adjusts his grip on you, trying to pull you closer though you’re already pressed against him. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself as you step back where you can see them. They all look a little worse for wear, but that’s expected. James is rubbing underneath his glasses, teartracks cutting through what looks like soot on his face. Sirius too is dirtier than he ever would’ve allowed just a couple weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem like he’s lost any weight. And the scars you can see Remus, you conclude after some inspection, are the same ones you’ve been getting to know for years. They all seem okay. However they did it, they’ve managed to stay safe.

“I’ve been everywhere,” you say finally. “I went to the shack first, but there were death eaters there.”

James brow furrows, and he sniffles. “There weren’t any around when we went. When did you check there?”

“The day after it happened.”

“We were there just that morning.”

You sit down on the cold earth, careless of the dampness seeping into your pants. “I wanted to go sooner, but I couldn’t get away from my neighborhood. They were everywhere.”

Sirius takes a blanket out of the pack James had discarded, laying it out on the floor of the cave and motioning for you to come sit beside him on it.

“Did you try Godric’s Hallow?” Remus asks, spreading another blanket for himself and James across from you. “We hung around there for days.”

“Yeah,” you say. Remus sets a hand on your knee as he sits in front of you, James seating himself across from Sirius. “I went there straight after the shack, didn’t leave until the next night.”

“You’re joking.” Sirius looks at you, devastation written across his features. “We got there three days after we got separated from you. We had to have been there at the same time.”

You let out a short, stilted laugh, laying your head on Sirius’ shoulder as a fresh wave of tears obscures your vision. “We must’ve just missed each other.” Sirius wraps an arm around your shoulder, resting his head atop yours. “Wonder how many times that happened,” you say bitterly.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Remus' tone is firm, but his knee bumps into yours consolingly. “We’re together, and…and we’re not going to get separated again. I won’t let it happen.”

“But I think we should pick a more definitive meeting spot,” Sirius says with forced lightness. “Just to be sure, you know?”

James actually laughs, and the familiar sound lifts the mood in the cave slightly.

“Probably,” you agree. “Hey, you guys don't have any food on hand, do you?”

“Merlin, is that rumbling your stomach?” Sirius asks. “I was thinking the roof of this place was about to come down.” He nudges you playfully, and you lean more of your weight onto him in response. He’s laying it on a bit thick in an attempt to try and brighten the atmosphere in your little cave, but you love him for it.

“We’ve got food,” James says, already digging through the pack. “Sandwich okay?”

As ridiculous as it would’ve sounded to you a month ago, the idea of a full sandwich, with bread and everything, makes your mouth water. “More than okay.” You take it from him, all but moaning as you chew your first bite. “Fuck, this is so luxurious.”

“If you think that’s luxurious,” James says enticingly, “wait until you see the grade-a sleeping pads we picked up. It’s a good thing we found you before you had to sleep in here, angel, because this is about to be a major improvement.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. This is already a major improvement.

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frudoo · 5 days

Text

Bells Ring (1)

Title: Fade Into You

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of body-shaming, infertility, infidelity, alcohol consumption. Suggestive imagery.

MDNI

“May ah have this dance?”

Starstruck. That’s the only possible way to describe exactly how you felt the first time your eyes met that sea of cerulean peeking through long, dark lashes and a quirked brow. You tensed immediately upon hearing the prince’s unmistakable dialect. It was as if your body wanted to swallow itself whole, curl into a tiny little sphere like a frightened millipede hiding from a predator. He cleared his throat and you were drawn from your trance, hastily placing your dance card into his outstretched palm.

You were not the diamond of the season, not even close. Not even a nugget of bronze. Overlooked by Queen Aiyla herself, you fit in most perfectly with the common ladies of the ton, bonding over petty gossip and drinking lemonade in the gardens. Although you had a larger stomach and a softer jawline than most other ladies, you were friendly, pleasant company, and they treated you as such. Neither notably wealthy nor tragically poor, you were comfortable and content somewhere in between.

“I do apologize for my hesitation, Your Highness,” you’d said timidly as he led you to the dance floor, placing one hand on his shoulder and keeping the other in his.

“No apologies necessary, ah assure ye,” he’d responded with a charming lopsided smile, smoothly pulling you into his strong arms as the dance commenced.

Ewan had kept you occupied all night, much to the dismay of every mama and all of the more eligible ladies for a man of his nobility. He may as well have signed his name in every slot of your dance card, as he did not let another soul near you for the entire duration of the time he spent at the ball. When the night was over and the two of you parted ways, you were nearly positive that you must have dreamt up the whole ordeal, a childlike fantasy for a girl larger and far more inferior than nearly the whole population.

But the next morning, he’d arrived at your home to call on you and wasted his entire afternoon teaching you Gaelic phrases as well as entertaining your excitement over poetry. Ewan was kind and patient, holding your gaze and admiring your other features when you looked away. He was enamored with your beauty, your voice, your passions , simple as they may have been. You could not deny the butterflies in your soft stomach that only fluttered when he was around, or the goosebumps that rose across your delicate skin whenever his fingers brushed over yours.

From then on, the prince had made up his mind, spending most of his time courting you, taking you on walks through the gardens where all of the other ladies you had been acquainted with now looked upon you with jealous scorn. Ewan seemed to enjoy keeping you on his arm, showing you off. It was maddening, the absolute hold he had on your love-struck heart.

On a particularly cool night that autumn, he had snuck you into the innermost part of the woods, away from the night owls of society and into a safe haven where it was just the two of you. He’d lifted your skirt and sunk to his knees, worshiping the sweetness between your thighs like it was the only thing he was made for. You hadn’t known anything to feel better, not until his plump lips entwined with yours as he lay you on the damp grass and showed you what heaven hid beneath his trousers.

In less than a quarter of a year, he had proposed to you, and even quicker than that, you were wedded. The two of you honeymooned in Greece before returning to Glasgow, which you now called home. Just like that, you went from sewing your own dresses and cooking your own meals to eating dinner with the King and Queen as the respectable Princess MacTavish. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but the long nights you spent in your husband’s chambers made it all worth it.

You wish you could say you don’t know where it all went wrong. It was bliss in the beginning, days mostly spent in bed with each other or having picnics in the castle garden. But when you failed to conceive a child after your first wedding anniversary, tensions grew between you and your beloved. Ewan was supportive at the start, holding you while you wept and assuring you that you were not broken, these things just take time.

But by the time your second anniversary came around and you still were not with child, he had already withdrawn. He stopped inviting you to his chambers and declined each of your advances, only bedding you after his mother commented on the lack of intimacy between the pair of you. Ewan had become a shell of the man he used to be, a fraud residing in the body of the tender-hearted lover you fell so hard for.

Communications between you and your husband had been reduced to those of business, financials and such. When you would make your afternoon rounds around the ton to have tea with the elderly widows or pick flowers with the children to give to their mamas, Ewan would stay inside to write or drink his stress away. You grew to hate the smell of scotch.

After an especially nasty argument, your husband informed you that he would be taking some time for himself to travel. He might as well have smacked you across the face—for such royalty to travel for leisure without his wife was a clear sign that their marriage was in distress.

But you, innocent and naive, weren’t aware that the ton you poured all of your time into befriending had already sensed the strain long ago. Vicious whispers shaming your barrenness, blaming it on your plush body or lack of care, floated into every ear willing to listen like rotten leaves being carried by the breeze. The servants looked at you with pity as you watched Ewan ride away in his carriage, and gave you space to cry when you should have been bathing or eating dinner.

You were midway through another crying spell when the letter arrived on a random Tuesday afternoon, delivered to you by one of the servant girls. Addressed to Ewan, who still had not returned, with the heady scent of floral perfume seeping through the paper. Disrespectful as it was, you opened the letter and read it through furrowed eyebrows.

My Beloved Ewan,

Every second that we are apart is a dagger to this weary heart of mine. I am aware that you must return home to your family, or lack thereof, but I cannot stand to be an ocean away from you any longer. Come a fortnight after you have received this letter, I will be on my way to make my home in Glasgow. You will no longer need to travel to see me. Anytime you need me, I will be there. Until I am with you once more, hold this close to your heart and feel mine beat with yours. I belong to you entirely, ma chérie.

Coralie

You could practically feel your heart drop down to your stomach, bile rising until you abandoned the letter and your feet carried you to the drawing room. You emptied the contents of your belly into the chamber pot, hot tears accompanying the sting in your throat.

You desired to curl up into a ball the same way you wanted to the first time you met him. Perhaps your hesitation wasn’t something to have been ashamed of back then, rather an older and wiser version of yourself attempting to protect you from her inevitable heartbreak.

That Thursday, you heard the news that Ewan had returned, but you made no effort to reunite with him. The thought of seeing his face made you sick. The one who was supposed to be yours and yours alone had given his heart to another. Ultimately, however, a formal dinner invitation from King MacTavish could not be avoided.

Now, on an especially gloomy Saturday, here you sit at a silent dining table opposite your infidel husband, with your clueless in-laws in the same respective position on the other sides.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #reader is fat #plus size reader #john mactavish x fem!reader #royalty au #Spotify

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months

Note

I wish you'd write a fic where reader is xadens younger sister and dating Garrick. But they date in secret (obviously xaden wouldnt be super thrilled at first when finding out) for like 2 years or so before they leave to go to Basgiath . Maybe when reader goes to cross the parapet Xaden notices garricks extra instruction. Maybe a slight brush on the back of the end before stepping on. And then Garrick and reader are caught by xaden and then his mad at first but relaxes off after watching Garrick protect her through out the year

When?

Xaden felt like an idiot. One big absolute idiot. He couldn’t believe that he was able to lead the rebellion but was quite literally fooled by the people closest to him. How did he miss the signs? Why didn’t his consciousness wave red flags back and forth. And he didn’t even figure it out on his own. No, no, fucking Imogen spelled it out for him.

“What are you smiling about all day?”, he had asked her as they counted up the weapons. Getting ready to distribute them overnight. Imogen shook her head as her smirk deepened, “Just Garrick”, she breathed. Xaden frowned, “Why are you smiling over Garrick? You don’t smile over a man”. Imogen rolled her eyes, “it has nothing to do with me, you idiot”, she snorted.

“Out with it, I don’t have time to play”, Xaden grumbled. Imogen placed down the dagger in her hands before looking up at her friend. “Didn’t you notice that he’s been different?”, she questioned. “Is he sick?”, Xaden smacked a question of his right back at her. “You are unbelievable”, she shook her head, “Do you seriously don’t see it?” Xaden blinked a couple of times. Nothing seemed off about his oldest friend. He was fine. Better than ever actually. “Xaden, Garrick looks at your sister as if she hung the moon up in the sky”, Imogen muttered, “He greeted me with a smile today”, her hands met Xaden’s shoulders as she shook him slowly, “A smile. S. M. I. L. E. Do you understand? That man hasn’t smiled ever since I met him”. But Xaden’s mind had clung to the first part of her words. Garrick liked his sister. No, this had to be a joke. Just Imogen didn’t look as if she was joking.

Ever since had made it his task to keep an eye out. Following you both. Sorting out through memories of you both. You had barely crossed the parapet six months ago. And yes Garrick had pulled you from the line when you came up. “Show me your shoes”, he had ordered, bending down to check them himself. Xaden hadn’t thought anything of it then. Had simply muttered, “Fuck you, I got her the shoes myself”, but he was so frightened to lose you that day that nothing else counted. Not the way Garrick had gripped the side of your face right before you stepped on. Not even the fact that Garrick had broken the board the names were scribbled on. Or how they had embraced each other when you were safely on the other side.

“Stop piling food on my plate”, you chuckled lightly, as Garrick spooned more veggie bake from his owl plate onto yours. “You need to eat more”, he stated, “You did well in training today”. Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at him. “You probably just went easy on me”, you shrugged. “I never go easy on anyone, love”, he reached out, brushing strands of your hair behind your ear, “Especially not when I want to impress you”. You hit his chest lightly, as your cheeks went pink, “You’re such a flirt”, “Only for you baby, only for you”, he traced the corner of your lips before picking up a for once again.

Xaden brooded in the knowledge of seeing it with his own two eyes. And then it’s as if someone had ripped the blindfold from his eyes. It was everywhere. Xaden saw it everywhere and it was so obvious. Garrick who was always first to leave the meeting now stood there, waiting for everyone to leave. Every time he walked past the girls he always made sure to brush his fingers along your back. Find contact with you no matter what. In a sea of cadets, his eyes were always on you.

“When?”, Xaden asked, yanking the back of Garrick’s shirt as the male left one of the meeting halls. Garrick didn’t miss a beat at batting his long-time friend’s hands off him, “Shit man you nearly got me”. But Xaden only puffed his chest more, “When?”, he repeated. Garrick frowned because Xaden was tiptoeing on the edge and he never lost his cool. A fear ran down his spine. What if something happened? What if you got hurt? Taken?

“What the fuck is going on?”, Garrick barely managed to grunt as Xaden’s left fists collided with his jaw. “Answer the fucking question goddamn”, he growled, clearly getting more and more frustrated. Garrick shoved him back slightly, “What in burning dragon shit has gotten into you?”.

A bitter laugh slipped past his friend’s lips, “I should be asking you that”, Xaden’s eyes were burning with anger, “you’re the one screwing my sister behind my back”, his voice raised ever so slightly. Garrick’s face blanched for a heartbeat before a wave of frustration ripped within him as well, “Don’t you dare put it like that”, he pointed a warning finger at Xaden who leaped forward, “You didn’t deny it, shitface”.

He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to punch or choke his long-time friend until a voice split the growing. “Stop this right now”, you called out, reaching to move for them but Garrick moved his free hand up, “Step aside Yn”. Yet another huff echoed, “Don’t tell her what to do”, Xaden bit back and it’s as if something shifted in Garrick, “I will because you are insane and I ain’t taking chances with you”, there was that primal almost frustrations in him. One that Xaden recognized because he too got overtaken by it when anyone got involved with Violet.

Yet still, Xaden pushed through, making sure to back Garrick against the wall, “I will make sure you die a painful…”, “Don’t you finish that Riorson”, you hissed from behind him, as you pulled at your brother’s upper arm. “You are grounded”, Xaden yanked his arm out of your grip, turning his frustration back on you.

“Listen to yourself, you sound like a child”, you said through gritted teeth. “Why was I not informed about this”, Xaden pointed between you and Garrick, before shaking his head, “This can’t be happening”. Garrick let out a low chuckle, “It has been for the past year and then some”, “Garrick”, you huffed pinching the bridge of your nose as he shrugged.

“She’s my sister! My”, Xaden shouted right at his friend's face, “And my girlfriend get in the line of being important to her”, Garrick said with a smirk. “I will choke you in your sleep”, Xaden leaned to tower over Garrick but he didn’t miss the beat doing just the same, “You can try”.

“Boys, please”, your voice was barely a whisper now, you could hear the sadness in it. Garrick’s head wiped in your direction instantly, “Don’t you dare get upset over this”, he hated it. Hated the sight of you sad. Of you upset. He could handle anything just not your tears. “Stop telling her what to do”, Xaden howled but this time Garrick was the one to shove him back before pointing a warning finger at him, “Riorson you are starting to get on my nerves”.

“Shut it, both of you”, you hissed, pushing your way between them and putting them at arm's length. “Garrick, I love you but please just stay quiet for a moment”, you glanced at your boyfriend, silently pleading with him, before your eyes turned to your brother.

“I’m sorry i should have told you”, you muttered. “Fuck yeah you should have”, he huffed. “But we had so little time. You both could have died, I could have died. We took a gamble just in case we survived and here we are”, you intertwined your fingers with Garrick’s and he instantly brought your joined hands up to his lips. Xaden inhaled sharply. “I’ve been really happy, Xaden”, you muttered quietly as your eyes glassed over with tears. Xaden reached out, pulling you closer to him, glaring at Garrick over your shoulder as he kissed the side of your head with a low whisper, “I know”.

You pulled back, hopeful eyes looking right into his soul. His little sister. The other half of his world. He only pushed through for you and Violet. A frown deepened between his brows before he managed to pull somewhat of a smile for you, kissing your forehead. “I will serve you your ass on the mats tomorrow”, Xaden shot a tight look Garrick’s way. He wasn’t ready to have a proper conversation with him yet. He will. He will put him from hell of his own. Just not now. “I’m looking forward to it”, Garrick nodded in agreement. Xaden turned to walk away before stopping. “A single hair breaks on her head and I am scattering you in ribbons”, he threatened, turning back to hold a warning stare with him. Garrick simply pulled you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, “Believe me”, he breathed out, glancing down at you for a moment, “If a hair breaks I will go willingly”. And that was enough for Xaden. Because even if he was angry he knew that Garrick would fight till his last breath to make sure that you were okay and for that alone, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis fourth wing #garrick tavis iron flames #garrick tavis fourth wing imagine #xaden riorson #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader #xaden x reader #xaden fourth wing #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

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loserboyfriendrjl · 27 days

Text

lyall flipped a page of his book (the lord of the rings — the hobbit, obviously; it had been remus’ favourite book when he was little, he used to read it to him), sitting on the old, worn out armchair.

remus had asked him, in his last letter, not to come to king’s cross to pick him up, and instead let him apparate back home. lyall had, reluctantly, agreed, yet his heart felt a twinge of sadness when he wrote the letter back; remus was growing older, undoubtedly. he didn’t need them anymore. but the prospect of him splinching himself to wales hadn’t been exactly exhilarating. however, he decided to give his son the chance to… he didn’t even know. he missed remus.

his thoughts were interrupted by hearing the door open and seeing his son enter their cottage, carrying his shabby suitcase in one hand. remus seemed to have grown considerably over the school year, making him appear gangly and unsure into his body. he was also in dire need of a haircut; his mother, hope, would surely take care of that later. (lyall almost chuckled, already hearing her voice: “cariad, do wizards not have scissors?”)

remus looked almost exactly like his father. the same curls, the same hooked nose, the same dropped eyes, rimmed with long eyelashes, the same crooked teeth. however, lyall knew better; his son had his mother’s warm smile, the same dimples in their cheeks, the same mischievous glance.

as if he could read his father’s thoughts, he put his arms to his side. “intact,” he said, rather awkwardly. “i didn’t splinch myself; apparition classes seem to have been a success.”

“i knew you wouldn’t,” lyall lied, licking his fingers before flipping the page, as his son made his way into the kitchen.

he sat down on the couch, and saffron, their ginger cat, considered that to be the perfect opportunity to jump next to her owner and start kneading against his thigh.

they sat in silence for a while; a father, pretending to read, and his son, looking at the pictures on the shelf above the fireplace and obviously engulfed in his thoughts, yet lyall didn’t ask what he was thinking about.

finally, he put his book down. “did i ever tell you about how your mother and i met?”

remus’ lips were parted by a small chuckle. “yes, about a billion times.”

“well,” he said, clasping his hands together. “you know, son, the first time I met your mother, it was quite the adventure. she was out for a walk through a forest when she stumbled upon a boggart — and i’m not going to explain to you what that is, because considering your OWL results, i can very well tell you know.. for her, it turned into a large, terrifying man. i don’t know who it was supposed to be. you mother was frightened, she screamed; i, being nearby, rushed over and with a quick wave of my wand, turned it into a little mushroom.”

“what a hero,” remus chuckled, pulling his longs legs up his chest.”

“i made sure she got home safely, and well, that was the beginning of something special. a few months later, i told her that the boggart posed no danger at all, but by then, we had already fallen in love. not long after, i asked her to marry me, and she said yes. we got married about a hear before you were born, and your mother, with her wicked sense of humor, decided we should have…

“the boggart-shapper topper,” remus finished, grinning. “classic ma.”

“then, as you know, or well, don’t, since you were just born,” lyall continued, (remus snorted) “on march the tenth, the following year, you came into our lives, and our little family was complete.”

his son chuckled, kicking his feet up on the couch. he chewed on his lip. “what’re you reading?”

“the hobbit,” he answered. “i had a bout of nostalgia. you’ve grown up so quicky; it feels like you’re not my little boy anymore.”

he saw remus’ adam apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

“i mean, look at you. your mum’s got to stand on her tiptoes to kiss you, and i know she’s not the tallest woman, but she had to bend down to be able to hold your little hand once. and you could fit between my arms, remus, with your head on my chest when i read to you. you used to be so little, and in a few months you won’t even be living with us anymore. you’re of bloody age,” he let out an airy laugh, “now.”

lyall didn’t know when remus had stood up and was behind him, his arms wrapped around his dad’s shoulders. “i’m still your son,” he said, his voice as small as it used to be when he was little.

“i know,” he reached out awkwardly and patted remus’ shoulder, ignoring the sniff he heard remus let out. “you’re always gonna be our son, cariad.”

#hope is kind of the only subject they can discuss without being awkward #also what if i cried what if i shed a tear writing this what then #remus lupin #lyall lupin #remus&lyall #lyall&remus #my writing

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alastor-x-reader-stories · 2 months

Text

Hellaverse x Reader pt 1 of ? - Enter Stolas

Summary: You're just some person who lived on your own in a slightly spooky town. Who knew demons would show up! Who knew they'd end up living with you?

Tags: Reader Insert, Hazbin Hotel Characters, Helluva Boss Characters, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Romance

Relationships: ( & for platonic, x for Romance)

Stolas & Reader, Fizzarolli & Reader, Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader

The town you called home was always low-key spooky

The moon was always a bit too bright and the wind a little too chilly.

You liked that. It was like a constant Autumn and you loved that season

One day while heading home, you heard a shriek.

Against your better judegment you investigated

The sound came from a spooky-looking house from atop a hill

Thinking maybe you heard a pained cat or something, you meandered in

The smell of blood and the sound of cracking bones made you decide to nope out

Too late

The door behind you was slammed shut by a strong gust of wind and the stupid thing wouldn't budge

The shireking got close and you picked a direction and ran like your life depended on it

It probably did

Whatever shrieked was purusing you, sounds of breaking wood and heavy panting accompanying the scratching of claws and heavy steps

You didn't know what was chasing you but you decided against turning to look at it

Until you were cornered. You didn't have much of a choice then

Your pursuer was a large bird-looking thing made of shadows and hellfire. Six red eyes burned into you as the creature got closer

You shut your eyes tight and hoped your death would be quick.

...

Nothing happened

You pried open one eye, trying to tame your racing heart.

The....thing. Or whatever, was staring you down, body heaving as if it couldn't catch its breath

Who are you?

The voice was in your head, hesitant and slow.

You swallowed thickly, not really sure what to do

The creature tilted its head

You're not...You're not one of them, right?

"What?"

One of the people who dragged me here- You're not- You're not one of them...Right?

You swallowed down your nerves again and stammered "Uh. N-no? I just- I was going by and I thought I heard a scream and I- I just- I thought it was a cat or something and figured i should help and I-Sorry? Is this your house? Did I break in?"

The creature studied you a moment longer.

Then it shrunk down, feathers disintegrating around it and a much less menacing form taking it's place

"Ahem. My aplogies." The owl-looking person said, straightening its hat

"Uh. Sure. No worries." You said, giving the most akward thhumbs up you ever have in your life.

"Ah! Yes! Allow me to introduce myself!" The owl guy said. He gave a theatrical bow "I am Stolas, Prince of the Ars Goetia."

"Um. Hi."

Stolas cleared his throat.

"My apologies for frightening you. There was a rather... ill-intentioned cult here and I mistook you for one of them."

You shook your head. "N-nope. I'm just some idiot."

"Oh. Um. There there?" Stolas said, patting your head. You flinched back and the Prince pulled away.

"Right. I'm gonna...go home now? Please?" You said slowly.

The owl guy nodded and let you go on your way

A step or two out the door and you noticed that Stolas was just. Standing there. Looking around. Lost.

"Um. Do you live here?"

"Uh. No, I do not. I'm not sure how to get back either... Oh! Please don't mind me and have a good rest of your day, yes?"

You were ever a bleeding heart

Slap a sad looking face on anything and you felt the need to care for it somehow

So you slapped yourself internally and offered Stolas to stay with you

He was awkward and hesitant but accepted

After loading what you can only assume is a demon into your modest car you made for home

With a new roommate.

Imagine being able to tell you that this was only the beginning

#hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #stolas goetia

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

headlessHorseman!eddie x Reader

Welcome back to The Nightmare Factory

masterlist

18+ONLY

I had a request from @thiswaytoinfinity for a Headless Horseman version of Eddie, and this is what happened. Reader is AFAB and this chapter includes a surprise guest. Much love. wc: 3.3k

This is part of a collection of blurbs and short fics about Eddie only being able to communicate with you through your nightmares. It can be enjoyed as a standalone, but there is a story being woven through each chapter. Chapters with smut will be marked nsfw, but most of these are just pure silliness and yearning.

"None shall escape the horseman's sight! On your guard, the time is nigh! The Headless Horseman darkens the sky! No matter the realm, it's all the same; I will sear you all with burning flame!"

---------

You’d been marked by the Headless Horseman.

That much was obvious by the carved jack-o-lantern with a lit candle inside that appeared on your doorstep on that morning, the first of October.

A group of kids from town snickered and pointed at you, knowing that your demise was near, but you held your head high.

You didn’t believe in the Headless Horseman.

It was a fairytale woven by firelight to frighten gullible fools and babies—and you were neither.

You were a teacher now, and a good one at that. Your students did not hate you like they had the schoolmaster before. They didn’t hate you to your face, anyway.

You attended the fall festival behind the church that Saturday night, and Jesiah Smith would not leave you alone. He kept refilling your apple cider, which was nice, but you had no interest in him outside of friendship, and he didn’t seem able to take the hint.

The guy was standing way too close to you, Eddie observed from the shadows.

Eddie was patiently awaiting his scene in the dream as if he were an actor waiting for curtain call, but now the extras in your nightmare were getting on his nerves. It was impossible for Eddie to get to be in all of your nightmares, but he took the opportunities when they came.

Thank god he could tell you were already getting bored with the people around you; even in dreams you preferred to avoid mundane chitchat. He slipped back through the dark thicket of forest and mounted the black steed with ease—almost as if he’d paid attention in class this time. The horse with a long silky mane and red eyes exhaled hot air from its nostrils, and in the cold darkness, it looked like it was breathing smoke.

The wind picked up, scattering dead leaves, and you rubbed your arms to warm them up. Above, the moon was so round and big, and it glowed a pale yellow—in the distance, a wolf howled. You swore you heard noises from the forest over the sound of the fiddle that people were dancing to. Horse hooves trotting, a crow cawing, and the low moan of the wind through tight fissures in the trees, singing like a warning.

Jesiah offered you his jacket, but you told him it was time to grab your shawl and go.

He said he could walk you home, but you said no thank you.

He took hold of your arm to pull you back, to keep you from moving away, and a horse neighed loudly from somewhere deep in the woods, making everyone’s heads whip around to look in that direction.

“I’m fine,” you assured, snaking your arm away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jesiah.”

There was a blip in time then, and suddenly you were in the middle of the forest, and all of the villagers from the festival were gone.

You were all alone.

The air felt cold and damp all at once. Above you, the tops of the trees made a canopy way over your head like intertwined fingers that carved out a perfect slot for the mood between their knuckles.

You shivered again, but not from the cold this time.

You had no idea which direction to walk in order to get home.

An owl flew off of a branch near you and screeched as its big wings caught the air.

You turned on your heel, noticing a thin path that led into a denser part of the forest. “That must be it,” you whispered to yourself, taking a few cautious steps in that direction.

Your legs felt like you were walking in quicksand; you kept moving, but were still in the same spot.

There was a long silence filled with nothing but the chitter of crickets, the type of silence that pounded in your ears, and then you heard a branch snap nearby. You tried to jump from the spot you were in, but your legs felt like jello.

It was then that you felt the hot, wet snorts of breath on the back of your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the huge body of a horse with a man sitting atop it.

You went to step and tripped, falling to the ground as you actively scurried back and a scream caught in your throat, choking you, making you gasp for air.

The man was dressed all in black with pale skin and long, curly dark hair. A long coat, and riding boots that came almost to his knees. The black horse he rode was one of the biggest you’d ever seen—-and there appeared to be actual fire flickering in its eyes.

You noticed a thick, jagged line like a railroad track around the man’s neck.

“Are…are you the Headless Horseman?” You stammered, feeling like your voice was coming from somewhere outside of your body.

He cocked the head in question, his voice was deep. “Do I look headless to you?”

“No,” you managed to whisper, licking your dry lips.

Eddie’s heart was racing.

He felt like in every dream, the two of you had to start all over, but this time—-your eyes were soft as you gazed up at him. Almost as if you found him…familiar.

You watched from a tuft of dead leaves on the ground with your knees pulled to your chest as Eddie dismounted.

He dropped the reins and took a few steps toward you. “Listen,” the man cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to chase you out to the meadow and scare you, but I don’t really want to.”

“Why don’t you want to?” You stared at him blankly.

Eddie kicked something invisible with his boot, rolling his tongue between his lips. After a beat, he squinted and dipped his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t remember me?”

This was starting to feel surreal. Did you live in the town nearby, or was this a dream? This couldn’t be a dream—-he was standing right in front of you. You could feel the air moving in your chest.

You furrowed your brow and tried to think, but then shook your head, disappointed that you could not place him.

With dramatic flourish, the man threw his hands to his chest as if he’d been shot and fell to the ground, catching himself in a push-up position before rolling onto his back in front of you and flopping there. Orange leaves fluttered against him like lifeless butterflies.

You snorted a confused laugh and looked on, amused, searching his dark eyes as he got on his side and propped his head up on his hand.

“Wait,” you bit your lip. The memory of him was like a pinprick of light at the end of a long tunnel, but you reached out through your brain as hard as you could for it while Eddie held his breath.

You lowered your gaze to the ground for a second and then returned your attention to him, about to let something out of your mouth that didn’t make any sense. “Something to do with a ferris wheel?”

Eddie sat up and clapped, giving a fist pump of excitement. “Yes! Ferris wheel!” He got to his knees and craned his neck to get his head closer to you.

He was so close to you now, it wouldn’t take much effort to lean forward and kiss him; you had this deep swell of confidence that the two of you had kissed before.

His rich chocolate eyes were in quite a bit of contrast to his chalk white skin, and his plump lips were pale too; a tiny blush of pink against flesh that refused to warm. His dark hair was almost black and it matched the thick stitches that clamped down over the gash that seemed to go all around his neck.

Eddie released a heavy breath and took your hand.

“I want to tell you everything,” he said.

You squeezed his hand back, silently asking him to continue.

There, on a blanket of leaves, under the unblinking, watchful eye of the moon, Eddie told you that he was from another dimension, a place where they created nightmares for dreams. After a moment of hesitation, while he broke a dry leaf apart with his fingers, he raised his gaze to yours tentatively and admitted that he’d developed a crush on you the first night he saw you.

Nothing about this seemed strange to you, in fact, he might as well have been telling you that he worked for Foot Locker at the mall and was asking you out for a soda. All perfectly normal stuff.

A gust of wind brushed back his hair, and a murder of crows took flight.

“It wasn’t just the way you looked; you know. Even though you are beautiful, don’t get me wrong. Very, very beautiful, but it was…” he drifted off, a smile breaking his laugh. “...the little people you made out of potatoes that sat on your desk, and the heavily worn paperbacks by your bed, and the way you slept with every body part under the covers except for your feet.”

You dipped your head shyly, self-conscious that he’d seen you in such a vulnerable state—but you were not at all horrified like you would be if a guy in your world told you he’d been standing over your bed while you slept. Your reaction was that of someone who was familiar with Eddie and not at all bothered by the information he was admitting.

Things feel so different in dreams.

He hesitated, trying to get a read on your expression. “Is this too much? Am I saying too much?”

“I..” your thought trailed off as you looked around at the dark shadows that loomed in the clearing. “Is this a dream? Am I dreaming right now?”

Eddie brought his knee up and circled his elbow around it. He had picked the leaf in his hand clean, down to the vein, and turned the delicate piece over in his fingers. “This is all we have, for now,” he said softly.

In the distance, a dark rumble of laughter—a menacing cackle—broke the cricket song of nature’s silence and all the birds scattered.

You turned to Eddie with wide eyes. “W-what was that?”

“Crap,” Eddie lowered his lids for a long breath. “I can’t believe it’s time already.”

“Time? Time for what?” You mimicked his movements as he stood and dusted himself off.

The evil laughter continued to bellow as horse hooves pounded in the distance. Through a break in the trees, you could see something or someone thundering along on horseback.

“Quick, take my hand!” Eddie shouted to get your attention. He was already up high on the horse, but the ice grip of fear made you freeze. You caught his hand and stepped into the stirrup, swinging your leg over the saddle behind him at his instruction.

“Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight,” he shouted over his shoulder as the horse took a few steps, bobbing its head, eager to get a move on.

You did as you were told, pinning your cheek to the tight back muscles that were flexing under his coat.

Delilah, the horse, was fast and strong and she took off like a shot at Eddie’s command. “Just don’t look back!” Eddie told you as the wind blew his hair back into your face; it smelled like honeysuckle and campfire.

Eddie crouched down a bit as he spurred her on, and you kept your body glued to his, your tailbone hitting the back of the saddle.

Faster…faster….

Delilah bounded into the air to avoid a huge tree that had fallen, and you squeezed your eyes shut for what felt like forever until her hooves met the ground again and you were bouncing behind Eddie to the beat of her strides.

That was when you made the mistake of looking behind you.

Not too far back and gaining at paranormal speed, was an actual headless man atop a mean-looking horse that was even bigger than Delilah. He wore a long, dark cape that flew out behind him, and he was barreling down on the three of you with a knife in his hand; the blade was long and curved and the steel glinted in the moonlight.

You gulped, knowing instinctively that it was your head he wanted.

“He’s gaining on us!” You screamed into the wind.

“I told you not to look back!” Eddie responded just as Deliah caught air over a fence and landed in a wide open meadow.

“Who is it? What do they want?”

“It’s another headless horseman,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, squinting into the velocity of the escape. "And he wants you."

“There’s more than one??” you took the chance to peek over your shoulder again, only to see that the headless man in question was gaining on you. “Why do you have a head and he doesn’t?” you yelled as Eddie kicked his heels and urged Delilah on.

“I sewed my head back on just for you, baby.”

Eddie coaxed Delilah in a sharp right, bolting across the other side of the field. Straight ahead in the distance was an old, covered bridge, and Eddie was telling Delilah to beeline right for it.

“Once we get you across that bridge, he can’t touch you,” Eddie said.

“But what about you?” Your voice cracked as the words left your mouth.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll find you again.”

The other Headless Horseman was right behind you now. He cackled loud and brandished the knife high in the air to let you see that he was serious, and it glinted in the moonlight.

You never doubted for a second that he would use it.

“How is he laughing without a head?” You chanced to ask.

“Oh, he has a head,” Eddie shouted. “It’s just not on him right now.”

Perfect sense, all of it.

You were so close to the bridge…so close

But then the other horseman was coming up beside you—

He sliced his blade through the air, missing you both by a hair.

Eddie threw him a dirty look. “What the hell, man?”

More evil laughter.

The blade came down again, this time, it would’ve clipped your arm if Eddie hadn’t made Delilah swerve in the other direction.

Now, you were headed away from the bridge.

“New plan!” Eddie yelled.

“Yeah what’s that?” The last word that came out of your mouth was a scream as you saw that the other Headless Horseman was suddenly blocking your path, swinging his arm back, ready to chop Eddie’s head off.

Eddie cursed and Delilah reared up on her back legs as if to protect the both of you with her hooves.

You let out a high pitched wail that pierced the night as you and Eddie toppled from the horse.

You landed in your bed.

Eddie landed in the alfalfa meadow.

Your mouth was dry when your eyes flew open to reveal the calm, familiar bedroom setting, while your hands made tight fists in the sheets.

It had only been a dream…but how could you still smell the campfire wood of his hair?

You’d never bolted from bed as fast as you did in that moment, scrambling for your pen and journal on the nightstand as you propped yourself up against the headboard. The tip of your tongue darted over your top lip as you concentrated, writing down everything you could remember from the dream…things he said…the way it felt…

That morning, you drew your very first sketch of him, too. It was rough, but you got the shape of his mouth correct and his hair, you even put in the details of the thick stitching around his neck that held his head on.

A couple nights went by before you saw him again, and when you did, it would be groundbreaking, because you would remember him for the first time.

Back in the dream, Delilah resumed a small trot before pausing to snack on some of the grasses. There was no more tension in the air, no more work to be done, now she could take a break.

On the ground, Eddie rolled onto his back with his arms out and groaned. The clouds gathered in the shape of a hand and cupped the moon in the dark blue sky.

The other headless horseman was snickering as he dismounted and sheathed his weapon at his side, slapping his leg with the flat of his hand for emphasis on how hilarious it had been.

“Smooth moves, Munson,” Headless Horseman Steve chuckled, his shoulders bouncing. “I only meant to scare you back in the forest, not start a hot pursuit.”

Still on his back, unwilling to move, Eddie grumbled, “I should’ve never vouched for you when you came looking for a job, Harrington.”

When Steve finally found the willpower to swallow his amusement, Eddie sat up, patting his arms to release puffs of dirt from the fall. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you space out during safety training or what?”

Headless Steve stepped over to offer Eddie his gloved hand to help him up, but Eddie knocked his arm away and stood on his own.

“Why are you so salty?” Steve's head had been tucked under his cape this whole time, but he procured it now, cradling it in the crook of his arm. “You used to get a kick out of fucking with them.”

“Yeah, well, not anymore,” Eddie mumbled as he picked a piece of grass out of his hair. He turned his back on Steve and strode over to Delilah.

“You want to go back to the factory together?” Steve called out to him. “Maybe get a drink after?”

Eddie just shook his head before he got up into the saddle and kicked his leg over. “I’ll catch you later, Harrington. I need a minute,” and then he clicked his tongue and Delilah moved toward the bridge, to the portal that would take him back to the dream simulator.

“Sure, man, okay,” Steve said weakly, his mouth moving on the head he had under his arm. “Good talk.”

Eddie released a heavy sigh as he bobbed up and down to the sway of Delilah’s stride. He felt like he really got through to you this time, and he wasn’t about to give up. Even if he had used up all of his chances to appear as himself to you, he’d find a way.

A big Sasquatch named Saul had ventured out of the woods to see what was going on, and now he stood next to Steve, watching Eddie go.

“What’s the matter with him?” Saul asked, his enormous body towering above his coworker. He was covered head to toe with brownish-red hair or fur, so much so that the only way you knew he had eyes was due to the fact that the hair on his face moved when he blinked.

“Beats me,” Steve scoffed. He was a little hurt that Eddie hadn’t responded the way he’d expected. It’s almost as if he…cared about the person who was having the dream? But that was silly. Nightmare workers weren’t allowed to have any connection with their clients.

Steve collected his horse’s reins in his free hand. “You feel like a beer?” He asked Saul.

“I am thirsty,” Saul responded, twisting to crack his back. “Just need to let a few more people get a glimpse at me through the trees, and then I can’t meet you back at the lockers.”

-----

Thank you for reading 🧡

#eddie munson #the nightmare factory #nightmare!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson series #spooky season fic #headlessHorseman!eddie #headless horseman

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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month

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A Walk in the Woods

So, I had some struggles in my life. I've been homeless since about July 27th, but I've been staying at a friend's home. I'm on disability, so it's hard to make ends meet.

In the depths of my despair, I wrote about König's lonesome walks in the woods.

Edit: As of August 13th, I do nearly have a home now. However, I am still posting this because it reflects an important feeling and something I think about with König. I love writing him as goofy and awkward, but I think sometimes it's important to remember the reality of being a soldier.

TW: Suicide reference, ptsd, references to gore, warfare/active combat discussion, depression, mental illness

Story below Cut

A Walk in the Woods

König goes on long walks alone sometimes.

You might be tempted to come with him, but that would defeat the purpose of the walk, so he’d just have to have you tag along and take another walk later, most likely when you’re asleep.

Long walks in the woods help König calm down. He likes the silence of the forests. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he’ll hear an owl hooting or see a bat fluttering by. He’s thankfully not the type that mosquitoes are attracted to, so bugs tend to leave him alone if he just gives himself a light spritz with bug spray. He thinks that long ago, his body adapted to the forests. Maybe it was because it was the place he felt most himself, maybe it was because it was where he was most alone. The forests never bothered answering his questions.

On these walks, König has the time to finally think about what’s been going on in his life. When he walks, he thinks about how long he has left to serve. Will he retire when he hits the golden age, or will he retire when his body gives out? Will he even make it to retirement? He doesn’t know. He wonders what will happen to you when he retires. He also doesn't know, which is worse. It frightens him terribly that he knows there’s nothing he can do to protect you from the reality of living with a partner in the military. He’s gotten to a point where he no longer sees warfare, but he does hostage rescues in dangerous cities in more dangerous countries. How long until there’s a chink in his armour?

When he walks he thinks about how he’ll divide his will. He needs to be prepared, as much as he wishes he could live forever. His mother made it until she was in her late nineties, his father just turned one hundred when he passed. He comes from longevity, but does he truly want to live that long? He’s done so much damage to his bodies throughout his years of service. His body could only go on for so much longer, and he didn’t know how long he could last.

When König was younger, he was brave and proud of taking after his grandfather by going into the Austrian Jagdkommando. He was revered by his younger siblings, and his parents had been nothing but proud of him for his decisions. He’d been a strong recruit and quickly risen the ranks to a prestigious title.

Now, as he walks through these lonely woods, he doesn’t quite know how much value his title holds anymore. What worth is a badge and a name if you spend most of your life looking at your partner through a phone, really? Is he even worthy of being a father if he has to spend months overseas? He’s missed so much of his loved ones' lives because of this godforsaken burden he carries. No amount of money could buy back the time he’s lost with his family.

And yet, still, he works. He trains in the barracks, readies his bodies for the next onslaught of bodies and screams when he is deployed into the next battlefield. He knows that when he comes home, he’ll have new nightmares to wake up screaming from. And who will be there to comfort him but you, frantically awoken by his thrashing and screaming as he shoots and kills all over again in his mind’s eye. He lives it over and over again every night. He will until he sleeps one final time. He’s trapped on lands you’ve never seen, lands he hopes you’ll never see in your lifetime. He’s seen so much carnage, there is so much blood on his hands and these same hands are the ones that hold you, cherish you, fuck you. He’s covered you in blood.

His walks carry him deep into the forest. There, he finds a clearing where he’ll look up to see the sky. Some days it’s blue and wide as the sargasso sea, some days it’s swathed in a darkness only split by the twinkling eyes of the gods above. Every time he looks up, he hopes that someone somewhere will see him begging on his knees for forgiveness. He tells you he doesn’t pray anymore, but he prays every time he comes to this clearing. Not for himself, no he’s long since been sent to Hell. He prays for you because he’s afraid that he’ll drag you down with him.

When he comes home, he’ll smile and hug you tightly. You always ask about it, but he never tells you where he went. He keeps telling himself he’ll bring you some day, but he knows he never will. You’ve seen him weak, but he can’t bear to have you see him like this. He wants you to see him smile and laugh and hold his children up above his head and fill the air with the sounds of joy and youth. He’s a strong and powerful aurochs of a man. You may see him stumble when he goes out to the hardware store to fix the latest leak in the sink, but he wants you to see him as a reliable pillar of support.

He prays that you will never see him out in the woods alone. He’s terrified that one day, one fateful day, you’ll go into his clearing to find him way up high among the tree branches.

Story Masterlist

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vesuvianhermitcrabs · 4 months

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The Arcana M6 When The Bed Is Covered In Plushies

Asra

The bed has disappeared. Not from magic or anything like that, it's just no longer visible beneath the absolute mound of plushies you own

Oh, how does Asra feel about it?

Who do you think was supplying you with all these stuffed animals?

He thrives in this environment

They immediately crawl beneath all of them and become one with the plushie pile

He makes expectant grabbing motions to lure you into the pile of snugness, where he will trap you for all eternity

Faust also thrives in this environment and often is found squeezing the life out of a plushie

Speaking of Faust, she gets lost in the plushie pile so often you will have to check for her before diving in

Do not dive on top of her

Asra will accidentally kick half of the plushies off the bed in his sleep

Nadia

Her poor heart

The first time she walks in on you sitting in your mound of soft little friends she completely freezes. There's this dewy glittery haze in her eyes that makes you feel as if she's about to keel over

I hope your bed is big enough to accommodate all the plushies you're about to receive

She doesn't care that it's impractical, it makes you happy and that makes her happy

Although if she's being completely honest, this might be healing something for her

Not that she'll tell you that, you'll find out through her having a bit of a snuggle session with your plushies while she thinks you're gone

(DO NOT BRING IT UP SHE WILL GET FLUSTERED AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE HER DOING THAT AGAIN)

If anyone tries to make fun of you she just purchases you more (there's nothing quite like retail therapy, I guess??)

Julian

He doesn't register the plushies on the bed at night, he just crashed there immediately due to working for 4 days straight

In the morning (late afternoon), he notices. He lets out a frightened "GAH!" and asks you where all of them came from (they've been there for a week)

You explain to him why you own so many and he turns away, smiling a little at the sight of them

Julian's started to have some weird behavioral changes since this discovery. He's started to come to bed a little earlier, and when he doesn't, you end up noticing your plushies missing and later finding them on top of his papers or sitting on the dining table

When you leave to go run errands you'll often come home to him clutching one of your plushies (he's pretending he wasn't just snuggling the shit out of one while sobbing into his pant leg out of depression and loneliness)

Portia

Oh. Oh my.

The first time she sees you cuddled up with a soft toy she physically can not handle it. It's just too cute for her

It doesn't help that you're in a big pile of cute soft fluffy things either

She needs an outlet or else she's going to combust, so she ends up punting one of the plushies off the bed and into the hallway (this was followed by a disgruntled yowl)

You look at her in complete owl-eyed shock and she seems to realize what she's done with a surprised laugh

Portia giggles out a series of breathy apologies before going to put the plushie back in the room

Sticks a band aid on the injured one

Bless her soul, she loves you too much for her body to physically be able to handle

One day you came home to a little crocheted Pepi and an apology note from Portia

Muriel

He saw you with a couple on your trip with Morga

In all honesty his first thought was... well. There wasn't really one. It was like you had scrambled, deep fried, and microwaved his brain, all at the same time

When you moved into the hut he wasn't quite expecting you to move in with all of those

He finds it oddly endearing

But... how are you all going to fit on the bed

Genuinely considers going back to sleeping on the ground

After you frantically convince him that this won't be necessary, he huffs a tiny little sigh of relief before you both wonder what to do next

You decide to build a shelf to keep the majority of the stuffies on, while a select few go in the bed with you

Inanna loves them very much and will adore and protect them like her own pups

She loves them so much that she pulls them off the shelf and into bed with you, her, and Muriel, putting you back to square one

Lucio

Complained so much about your bed of plushies that you were considering running off into the woods to never be seen again

Okay well you wouldn't really do that, and seeing as you don't really live in a house your bedroll is covered in plushies

"MC, why are you holding a plushie when you could be holding me?" Becomes a nightly conversation

This problem is mostly solved when you get a plushie of him commissioned

What helps the most is when you buy him some of his own

Cue sniffling and eyeliner stained fluids running down his face

Much like Nadia, you're pretty sure this is actually very healing for him so you indulge him

Sometimes you'll hear him ranting to the plushies with his face all squished into them, which you always stop to listen to. Especially when the conversation turns to you

#the arcana hc #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana m6

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megangovier · 4 months

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Through The Woods

Word counter: 1.1k

Pairing: Depraved! Michael Myers x fem! reader x Jason Voorhees x Ghostface

Summary: Your boyfriend dumps you after four years, leaving you in the woods. Scared you hide from the creatures of the night, as you walked and walked, three masked men follow you.

Tw: Abuse at the start

Warning: 18+ only || Smut || mmm4f || Cheating || Arguments || P in V || Dirty talk || degradation || mdni || Dub-con || depravity || throatfucking || cream pie || breeding kink || daddy!kink || handjob || BJ ||

"Get the fuck out my car bitch, you ain't worth my time anymore".. tears started to roll down your face. The man that you were sitting next to in the car, wasn't the guy you met four years ago, he's changed and you didnt like it. You missed the sweet man you got used to, the guy that would make you breakfast in the morning and looked after you when you were ill, you don't know what he had done with that guy. "You were the one cheating on me with those hoes, I've been nothing but nice to you and you treat me like this" anger rising in your chest "Boo-hoo, get the fuck out! We are done" screaming at him, you run out the door and into the woods.

Scared and frightened you think ways of surviving through the night, all sorts of creatures lurk through the darkness waiting for their next meal. "I can't fucking believe him, wasted four years of my life with him and he cheats on me, my mother was right about him but me being a dumb bitch believing in love, fairy tale fucking over". As you head through the tree's, listening to owls hooting and crickets, a calm wave washed over you, nature was always your favourite place to be when you were having a bad day.

Music also brought you escapism, one of your many favourite things to do. Slipping headphones in, you put on zen music. Smiles on your face, tears long gone. As much as you loved that man, you didn't have to deal with him again, going to feel sorry for the next girl he dates, the way he treated you, bound to happen again to someone else. The sky was pitch black, the time was 22:30. Stars shining brightly, moon as big as a rocket shining back. Passing tree's, phone in hand, torch looking for a safe place for the night, away from creatures that could eat you alive.

As you were finding your way to a safe place, three large men were hiding behind a tree, few yards away from where you were standing. Looking at you with their lustful eyes, mouths watering, ghostface looks at Michael and whispers "Can we please take her now, please I need to be inside her so bad, my balls are so fucking tight" Michael growled and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Come on Mike, you know what happens when he doesn't get what he wants" Jason said. A sigh left his lips, looking at ghostface he nods in annoyance and ghost face, quietly heads in your direction.

Still heading north, you lost all patience trying to find a place to stay for the night. As you were about to turn back, someone came up behind you and pushed you to the floor, their strength pinning your arms above your head, his leg keeping yours open "get off of me creep" a man laughs above you. White mask, boiler suit "Oh honey, we're just getting started" unzipping his boiler suit Michael grabs you by the hair, pulling you up on your knees "Now take all of daddy's cock down your throat, while my friend here ruts himself against you". "Open your mouth baby, that's it"

As Michael slams himself into your throat, ghostface is behind you with his gloved fingers inside your dripping cunt "oh look, someone's being a little slut! you like that huh, being throat fucked by my friend here". As ghostface was finger fucking you from behind, Jason had slipped his hand down his pants, whimpering like the cute submissive boy he is "Aw look Jason, you want some of this?" Jason nodded his head and got on his knees "Good Boy, now you know what to do" as ghostface got up and walked over to your side "stroke my cock slut, while he fucks your throat" as your hand went to his cock Michael grabbed your wrist "I wanted to play with her, this little plaything is mine Michael" growls left his lips. Letting go, you looked at Michael's eyes, they were so pretty "I think she likes you Michael" heat rises up your neck, making you clench around Jason's fingers.

"Fuck, I'm so close princess!" Michael had let his cock fall from your lips. Ghost face had grabbed your face and rammed his cock into your throat "oh fuck, take it all, or I'll have to spit it back into your mouth, if I see a single drop from those pretty lips of yours" a moan left your throat and legs started to shake "faster Jason, she's close" doing what he was told, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape giving Michael the opportunity to lift up his mask and kiss you passionately, spitting the warm seed back into your throat.

After coming undone, Michael kneeled behind you, hands on hips and mouth near ear "now I ain't going slow, princess" a whimper left your lips. Jason felt invisible "Jason, fuck her mouth will you, Michael is going to make this bitch scream and we can't let people nose around here" unzipping his trousers making pants fall along with them, Jason slowly enters his cock in your mouth. Michael slammed himself inside you, making your eyes roll back "Fuck princess, you're so tight, can't wait til I breed you, shoot my babies inside you" clenching around him, Michael pulls your hair "Such a dirty slut for us, you have no idea what I'm going to do to you" a moan escaped your lips, making jason buck his hips, whining.

Jason couldn't take it a second more, he needed to be inside of you but he knew better than to make Michael angry as he was the boss, leaded the pack. "Atta girl, can you do it one more time, I know you're exhausted but I don't care! You're going to be used by all three of us, by the end of tonight and I'm going to take you back home and use you again and again, until I know you've been bred". You're so close and Michael could feel it "come on slut, you can do it, come all over daddy's cock" as his hand came down hard on your ass, your pussy clenched tightly around him and came hard on his cock, making Jason tip his head back, releasing in your throat.

As Michael slid out your wetness, juices and come was running down your thighs. Panting with exhaustion, sleep washed over you. A slap across the face woke you up "we aren't done yet princess, I'm not the only one who needed this pussy" Ghostface positions himself behind you, grabbing onto heavily bruised hips "you look so pretty with those bruises tattooed on your hips" a tired whimper left your aching throat. You couldn't do anything, your body was achy and tired. Closing your eyes, listening to the raspiness of his voice, ghost face slammed into your pussy, pounding it from behind.

@toxicanonymity 🖤 @larabiatasstuff @pinkberry1rxx ✨

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