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casspurrjoybell-32 · 9 months ago

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Taken - Blue Moon Series - Chapter 16b

*Warning Adult Content*

Prince Gale Dartanyanoff

Life was a constant battle. You trusted no one and never made yourself vulnerable.

From a young age, Gale had lived his life in the shadows.

While he slept in his crib, not even old enough to walk yet, his mother had tried to kill him.

King Elijah had been the one to find her strangling their newborn on the nursery floor.

No one could figure out why she had this mental breakdown but since it was never safe to leave the two alone together.

Every chance she got she would try and take his life.

The King was force to make a decision.

Either lock his mate up, far from Gale or send his child away.

He chose the latter and it set Gale on a destructive course that no one could have predicted.

His father couldn't have known that sending his son to his relatives would hurt the child so much in so many ways.

His relatives weren't the well behaved, proper household that Gale's came off to be.

Even though they were part of the royal family they were wild, almost savage-like in their behavior and they raised Gale just so, with no mercy.

Their saying was the world was cruel and you had to survive in it.

So for the next fifty years and on, he survived.

The savage and wild nature of his vampire was what he relied on.

Blood and shelter was all he needed.

Vampires were lone creatures, that was what he was taught under the guardianship of his aunt and uncle.

You needed no one, you fend for yourself and only had to rely on your instincts.

In those times there were many territorial wars and he was forced out at the tender age of twelve to experience his first.

With nothing but his claws and fangs, he was thrown to the cruel world of blood and death.

Once he just barely reached adulthood, around fifty years for a vampire, no one dared to cross him.

He fed from whoever he wanted and never showed restraint, there were times where he couldn't stop and he killed many to sate his insatiable hunger.

When in battle there were none who could match his speed and ferocity.

And he never hesitated to gut an enemy.

Then one day his father visited, like he usually did once every year, not that Gale cared to see him though.

In truth he was rarely ever in that house to greet the king on the rare days he came anyway.

But this time Gale was there when Elijah showed to take his son back from his sister.

Elijah had heard some nasty rumors about Gale.

To him it was really rumors of his sister's neglect, he'd know she was wild than the rest of his family.

The fact that she married a Drake, who were known to be the most ill-mannered, violently savage clan in the country.

They were known for their bloodthirsty ways and rough teaching methods.

Knowing all this, he still thought it was the best way to keep his son safe from his wife.

If she had found out where he was she would have sent someone out to find him and assassinate him.

But Elijah could no longer keep his son away.

He was his first born, his heir.

Because of his mate, he missed out on so much with his son.

He missed his first steps, his first words, he missed the chance to raise him.

He had been so excited for Gale's birth.

Both he and his wife.

They had so many plans for him, so many things they wanted to teach him.

But from what the many doctors of all fey kind had said was that Gale and his wife Raina were incompatible.

There was something about Gale that her instincts were telling her that she had to get rid of him and to save him Elijah was forced to send his son away.

There wasn't a day that went by that he missed Gale.

Wondered what he was doing, how he was getting along.

If he was in good health. Was he eating right?

It was time to bring him home no matter what his mate said.

But what he got on his sons return was far from what he would have expected. It saddened and angered him all at once.

He regretted leaving his son in his sister's hands.

Gale was like a rabid animal, biting and clawing at everything he saw.

His son fought him the whole ride to the castle.

It took five of his best men to hold him down when they arrived home and even then he took down so many of them before he exhausted himself.

Gale's eyes which were once a beautiful brown as a baby were now a constant black.

Black eyes were never a good sign, it usually meant they were ravenous and out of control.

It was considered dangerous to approach any vampire in this state and even vampires themselves are wary of it.

"You've brought a beast into our home," was what his wife had told him later that day in their room and she was right.

He was just like a beast.

A feral animal cornered.

"Yes, he is a beast."

He looked his wife right in the eyes.

"And it's our fault."

Elijah had one weakness, family.

Seeing his own flesh and blood, a prince of the Dartanyanoff's acting like an animal hurt him more than he would ever let on.

To keep others safe they had manacled Gale in his room.

The king refused to have his son chained in the dungeon.

Gale had been through enough to be forced to stay in such terrible quarters.

With that Elijah had his son's life investigated thoroughly since he wasn't much of a talker.

What he received almost had him marching to his sister's house that day.

How could she do this.

He had told them to look after his son, take care of him.

He had even said that Gale had a rough start to life and he wished for them to treat him well in his absence.

He trusted them with this child's life.

But instead, he gets a report of the complete opposite.

His second had asked witnesses of what they had seen as Gale grew up and it tore him apart.

He had grown up alone, fending for himself like some stray.

Fighting to survive.

And he had left him to this fate.

He had heard of someone going by the name of Reaper.

A vicious warrior that took down all those in his path on the battle field.

He was a force of nature that many avoided at all costs.

Elijah had cleaned up after him on occasion throughout the years.

He left a trail of drained bodies sometimes and he was there to cover it up so they weren't discovered by the humans. Elijah didn't think much of it.

He just assumed that it was a young one that had yet to be taught control but he would have never guessed it would be his own son.

It was time to start from scratch.

From then on Gale as resistant as he could be Gale was a force to be part of society.

He had extensive lessons in manners and vampire etiquette.

Trying to get his hunger in check was the hardest part.

The king worked with him for hours on end to get his insatiability and violent tendencies under control till finally, he wasn't attacking people thinking they were out to get him.

The one person Gale stayed away from was the glaring woman who he found out was his mother.

He had a long memory and that woman was always there in his dreams hurting him.

The most vivid memory was of her angry contorted face kneeling over him and it being hard to breathe.

Not many could remember back as far as infancy but there was no way for him to forget it.

He discovered he had a brother named Nicholas soon after that his mother seemed to dote on.

Surprisingly his brother had attached himself to Gale and never left. He didn't know what it was like to have a family.

He never experienced the bonds that the people that called him their family had together.

Many times he would be passing by and see his father, Raina and Nicholas all smiling and laughing together.

He frowned in confusion as it seemed they trusted one another.

Their guards were down around each other.

He had a hard time understanding but over time Nicholas and his father helped him.

He found himself laughing on rare occasions with them.

As the years past, he learned to enjoy life and protect those you care about or you were bound to lose something precious.

Life wasn't about yourself.

It was about having those you trusted and cared for around.

To experience the happy and sad times with.

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the-sieve · 2 years ago

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A few years back my dad’s hiking group had a very, very bad run in with a rabid raccoon. you know that scene from a bugs life? well, instead of a harmless leaf, it was a raccoon with a wobbly gait walking in broad daylight down the middle of a trail right towards people and separating one half of the group from the other. my dad - who grew up in an area where every so often you’d here about how one of the farmers had to old yeller their dog and had it drilled into his head from before he could even walk and talk to never approach a wild animal that didn’t seem scared of humans right off the bat - knew they were in trouble and told everyone as much and that they needed to turn around and head back out and call a park ranger. that something wasn’t right and it was better to be safe.

But of course some of the people he was with didn’t want their beautiful Saturday ruined and, underestimating the threat, decided to instead try and walk around the animal and the moment someone got too close absolute hell broke loose, the racoon lunging at the closest person, that person on reflex football kicking it incidentally into the lake that the trail they were on wrapped around, the racoon bursting out of the water with what my dad describes as a demonic screech before launching itself back into the group of panicking hikers.

a bunch of people including my dad ended up beating it to death with a combination of sticks, hiking poles and boots, but the damage had already been done at that point and worse as everyone had essentially been exposed, either from being directly bitten or because they now had rabid racoon blood on their clothing, equipment and skin. it was a mess as you can imagine. and yet, after all this, some people still wanted to continue the hike and then go home. thankfully these people were eventually convinced of the severity of the situation, and after hiking back out park rangers were called, the body of the racoon was recovered for testing, clothing and equipment were properly disposed of, everyone went to the hospital, etc.

my dad has done some crazy dangerous shit in his life - crashed a motorcycle at top speed running from cops, chased tornadoes, been stranded in a foreign country without any id or passport and held at gunpoint - but he holds firm to this day that knowing he’d been exposed to rabies was the closest he ever felt to death, and this man has had a full blown heart attack.

youtube

So I'm putting this here as a sort of public service. If you have never seen a rabid animal before, and you think you can handle watching it, I think it's a good idea to watch this. It's pretty upsetting to watch, so big CW on it, because this animal is essentially "dead but still moving." This is end-stage rabies. There is no saving this animal.

Before this stage, animals may be excessively affectionate or oddly tame-looking which is part of the reason why seeing people feeding foxes is upsetting to me. These animals might be, or might become, rabid, and there's no way to know without testing, which involves destroying the animal. Encouraging wild animals to be that close to humans is generally bad.

I grew up in the woods, so unfortunately we saw an uptick in rabid animals every spring -- you'd hear there was a rabid bat in this neighborhood or a rabid fox in this one -- but as wild animals and humans cross over more and more, we will see this more and more.

Opossums and squirrels extremely rarely get rabies, and we don't know why. They think the low body temperature of opossums inhibits the virus. The most common animals which get rabies in the US are raccoons, skunks, bats and foxes. Any animal 'acting unusually' -- not skittish around humans, biting at the air or at nothing ('fly-biting'), walking strangely (they kind of look like they have a string attached to their heads and walk kind of diagonal like they're being pulled along, a lot of the time) -- should be treated as though it's potentially rabid.

If you think you have been exposed to a rabid animal, including 'waking up in a room where a bat has gotten into it and there's a fucking bat in your room', please immediately go to the emergency room. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Post-exposure prophylaxis absolutely fucking sucks, it is a series of shots you'll have to get in two stages, it's done by weight, and it feels fucking nasty, but rabies is 100% fatal. I cannot stress enough how essential this is, having been through it.

Thank you for reading, I love everybody, the end.

#rabies #turns out the week prior a woman hiking the same trail got bit by a rabid coyote #i knew something was wrong when he called me #and said 'hey! guess what new and exciting things just happened to me?'#that never bodes well

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thedevilsdom · 3 years ago

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chubby dom gn mc x lucifer, oral, misssionary

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Lucifer had never met somebody who made him as absolutely crazy as you did. He swears that the second you walk in the room he's reduced to a mumbling, stuttering mess who's most definitely going to make a fool of himself by slipping up halfway through a sentence. It doesn't matter what you're wearing, you could be dressed to the nines or in your home clothes and he'll always react the same way.

He never liked leaving the office. He would never be able to relax once he was back in his room because he knew that there was still work to be done. That changed when he met you, and when you became a beacon he was drawn to, always climbing into bed with your soft, comforting warmth to welcome him.

"Let me help you relieve some stress, love," You smile softly as he crawls into bed. He lays against you, still in his uniform,

"My stress is already melting away just being with you," He sighs. He knows that he has to go shower and wash the day off him, but he dreads leaving you for even a second.

"I meant in another way," You giggle. His back is pressed to your front, it's so easy to stroke down his chest. You reach his stomach and you feel him tense up as he realizes what you mean.

"O-Oh," He pushes his ass back against you as your traveling hand finally reaches his crotch. You palm him over his clothes, lips pressing gentle kisses to his neck as you feel him get hard under your attention.

"You've been so good, working so hard," You pull your hand back, "As a reward, I'll let you fuck me."

You've never seen Lucifer move so fast. You'd swear he's a rabid animal as he turns over and immediately starts tugging your bottoms down, wasting no time.

"Hey," You grab him by the hair just as he was about to dive down to go down on you, "I thought I trained you better than this. Are you some kind of feral animal?"

"No, I'm sorry," He whimpers, head being held up by the hair.

"What are you?"

"I'm your good boy," He pants, eyes near glazed over with the sheer need coursing through his body, "I'm your well trained sub."

"Yes you are," You let go of his hair and cup his face, thumb stroking over his cheek, "Now don't rush."

He nodded and continued with what he was doing, though savoring it much more. He moaned so lewdly as his tongue stoked over you, lapping at your sensitive parts. With the sounds he was making, it sounded like was already fucking you or at least touching himself, but his hands remained firmly holding your plush thighs on either side of his head.

"Please, can I put it in?" He whines from between your legs, "I- I think I'll finish in my pants if I don't, please," He looks so desperate and so, so wrecked.

"Oh?" You beckon him up and he crawls over you, keeping himself hovering over your body on his elbows and knees. "What if I just..." You push your leg up between his own and he pulls back like he's been burned. You giggle and he pouts, looking away.

"Poor Luci, don't worry, I know how badly you want to fuck me. I won't be cruel tonight." You spread your legs and he eagerly tugs his own pants down, not bothering to go past his mid thigh before pulling his cock out and trying to get into a suitable position.

His lovely cock is just the right size, and it's so flushed and dripping for you now, just another testament to how badly he needs you.

He pulls off his gloves as well, laying his hands on your nice, full hips and moaning.

"Does that really feel good?" One of your hands rests on his, "Just holding my hips? You sound so slutty."

"It feels good just to touch you," His hands glide down to your soft thighs, resting there for a moment before he uses one hand to guide himself into you. His breath catches as he slowly pushes in, and once he's fully inside he finds himself leaning down over you, desperate to get as much contact with you as possible.

"Mmh, you feel so good inside me, Luci," You purr, your hands stroking down his back. You feel him tremble as he begins to slowly thrust into you. His body quakes with the effort it takes to fuck into you slowly, to keep himself from rutting like a crazed beast. You can tell, you know that more than anything he wants to fuck you through the mattress.

"Being so gentle Luci, just like I asked," You praise him, fingers threading through his hair as he kisses your neck, "You can go faster, love, you've been good."

That's all it takes to have him wildly jackrabbiting into you, thrusting like his life depended on it. He murmurs muffled thanks like a prayer against your skin.

"Please, please please," He whimpers, "Can I cum inside? Please? Please let me stay inside," He's barely loud enough for you to hear over the slap of skin on skin.

"Already?" You laugh and he flushes even deeper, "Fine love, but you have to get me clean afterwards."

He moans out at that, almost completely collapsing on top of you. Arousal shocks through his body and he can hardly contain it, he keeps fucking you like a wild animal, so desperate and so overwhelmed.

With a lewd cry against you he reaches his climax, shuddering and thrusting and fucking his cum deeper into you with every hot pulse. He growls like a beast as his orgasm runs through him, filling you up with his cum until he's finally empty.

Lucifer barely takes a second to come back down before he's pulling out and moving back down to follow your orders. His tongue dips into your hole and laps at it, drinking down his own cum. He pushes his fingers inside you, stroking against your walls and sending shocks of pleasure through you as he continues to lick at you.

"Such a good boy, Luci," You sigh out as the warm, familiar pleasure begins to coil inside you. "Always so good."

He moans into you, the vibrations shaking you to your core. He eats you out with fervor, swallowing his own release. His fingers thrust in and out of you, his tongue continuing to lick and bring you closer and closer to your own climax.

Your peak almost takes you by surprise as your legs squeeze around his head and you cry out, hands gripping the bedsheets. Your obedient sub moans deliriously at the feeling of your cumming around his fingers, because of him. He works you through your orgasm, pushing to prolong your pleasure as long as he can.

When your quivering thighs fall from over his ears he comes back up, lips shiny with combination of your and his fluids.

"My good boy," You sigh dreamily, sitting up against the pillows at the head of the bed.

"Hah, that certainly eased my stress," He looks up at you with a soft smile.

"Of course," You say, "Your master always knows best."

like my writing and want to request something? support me on ko-fi!

#lucifer #my writing #obey me

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etherrreal · 4 years ago

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“the things you do for charity”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: kenma's always been a private person, but it was getting increasingly harder to keep his partner off his streams while you live together; so, he decided to join his two loves together for a 24-hour charity stream extravaganza. Word Count: 3,408 Warnings: some swearing, i suppose there are some spoilers from the manga about adult kenma's job? A/N: i'd give my left tit to play some minecraft or mario kart with kenma tbh -Luna

Kenma's career as a popular streamer was one of the many facets of him that shocked you when you’d started dating two years ago. The two of you had first met in an Animal Crossing discord for your city meant for trading and making friends.

After you had gone over to his island to adopt Raymond from him, he let you keep all of your Nook Mile Tickets with the stipulation that you kept in contact with him to "give him updates" about how the cat villager was doing in his new home. His dorky way of trying to flirt with you was what made you pursue him in the first place, and somehow it had led to a very fulfilling relationship.

It was revealed early on that he was a streamer, but he never expanded on it regarding the actual numbers. Curiosity got the best of you one night, and you decided to google him. Besides also learning that he was a YouTuber, you found yourself in awe at the numbers he managed to accumulate across all of his social media.

And if that wasn’t enough, he was also apparently the CEO of his own business.

Once you moved in together around the one-year mark of your relationship, you got to properly witness the amount of work put into streaming and maintaining a social media presence. This also meant that you got to read the wild comments that were left on all of his platforms–and see the occasional surprise nude picture whenever he opened up his DMs around you.

Because of this, Kenma sat you down to have a conversation about your potential appearance on his social media. You both decided by the end of it that his audience would get to know that he was in a committed relationship, but you agreed it would be best to not show your face or reveal any identifying information of yours.

It had been a year since having that conversation, and you’d both stuck to the agreement closely. The most his audience had ever seen of you was your hand whenever you refilled his water bottle for him.

Of course, it was hard sometimes, especially when you had to remain extra quiet around the house and refrain from yelling out a 'baaaabe' whenever you needed something from him, but since he had his own soundproof office, it lessened the room for any accidental error.

Overall, you were content with never showing your face to his audience for the rest of his career. You knew how nasty the internet could get because of their parasocial relationships with influencers and streamers alike, especially when they discovered those influencers and streamers had a partner who wasn't them, even if they knew they never had a chance. You weren't sure your skin was thick enough to deal with rabid angry stans.

Which is why it was so shocking when Kenma decided one day to nix the agreement.

You were in your shared bedroom answering some emails when he came in. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and tied-up hair; his typical look for a stream.

After some time, you noticed that he was still standing in the doorway, not saying anything. When you glanced up at him, you found him awkwardly toying with the strands of hair that had fallen out of his bun, looking down at the ground like he was just waiting for you to notice him.

"Is there something you need, baby?" you asked. "You're just standing there all adorably shy."

"Yeah, so, um, I'm going to be doing a 24-hour stream this weekend to raise money for charity."

"Oh, really? Cool! I guess that means I'll be going to bed alone that night," you joked.

"Yeah, I guess. Um..." He started before scrunching up his face like he was uncomfortable with what he planned to say next.

"What is it? Do you need me to stock up on snacks and energy drinks? Just send me a list. I can pick them up tomorrow."

"No, that's not it. I was thinking of making a stretch goal be you coming on stream so we can play Minecraft or Mario Kart or something...I mean, I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable. I could always replace it with something else. I know they've been wanting to see me dye my hair a bright color and dress up like an e-boy, so--"

"Really!?" you nearly yelled.

"What? That they want me to dress like an e-boy? Yeah, Kuroo said it would–"

"No, I mean..." You tried to fight the confused expression that was growing on your face, but your squinted eyes gave you away. "You really want me on your stream? Like face and all?"

"....Yeah, I really want to be able to share this with you. But don't feel like you have to do it just to make me happy."

It was a large ask when looking at the full picture. Kenma had his fair share of fans and "stans" who lacked boundaries, as seen from a select few who visited your home several times this year, or the handful that found you on social media already just from seeing a glimpse of your college ring on the hand wrapped around Kenma's water bottle.

There could be a chance you could receive direct hate on your social media just because you were a person who dated a popular streamer. You would then be in the public eye with little privacy and have a magnifying glass on all of your actions and words. Anything you did would then reflect on Kenma.

What if you messed something up and then Kenma lost viewers? Would they try to cancel you or him for it?

You backed away from all the negative thoughts before you could spiral and looked at the metaphorical 'pro' column.

If you agreed to appear on his stream, you would no longer have to sneak around your house in fear of being heard or showing up in his face cam. You both wouldn't have to feel guilty playing games off-camera with each other because you knew Kenma could be streaming it instead.

And who knew? Maybe his fans would like you. You had to admit, it would be a nice ego boost knowing that you were accepted by so many people.

And, most importantly: you could physically ask him in person what he wanted for dinner instead of texting him and waiting an hour for a break so he could respond, while you sat in the next room, starving, stuck in an endless cycle of wondering whether you should make a snack or if you should just hold off for dinner.

Maybe this was a good idea.

"Okay,” you decided, “I'll do it."

"Oh... alright. Cool." Kenma was trying his hardest not to show how excited he was that you agreed. When he saw the contemplative look on your face, he was sure you would decide that it'd just be too much work and say no. But hearing you agree made him giddier than he would ever admit to.

Despite the cool and collected façade he thought he was putting on, you saw the smile that threatened to break through and the red tips of his ears. You wondered if he felt the same weight being lifted off his shoulders as you did, knowing that, after this weekend, you'd both be finally out as an official couple to the world.

And, of course, the nausea of having to do all of it live in front of thousands of people. No biggie.

Saturday afternoon came and at 12pm sharp, Kenma began his grueling 24-hour charity stream. The bar had an overall goal of $150,000, and it began filling up at a constant pace right from the start. Donations ranging from $5 to $500 were flowing in rapidly, and you were trying your best not to feel nervous.

You both agreed that if he reached $50,000 within 5 hours, you would join him for an hour or two of Minecraft later that night. Part of you hoped that the donations would slow down and plateau for a bit, but when you saw Kuroo had donated $1000, specifically with the message that he hoped to see you on stream soon, you realized that it was a pipe dream.

So, you had to be your own hype person for now, to get prepared to show your face to thousands of people and not disappoint Kenma.

Whether it was the promise of your face reveal or the people who genuinely adored charity, it took only four hours for Kenma to break $50,000.

When he saw the number update live on stream, the viewers witnessed the most amount of expression Kenma had ever shown: eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape, body frozen. You could see the gears struggling inside his head struggling to turn and comprehend what they all managed to do so early on in the stream.

"Thanks so much, everyone, for being so generous today... I guess this means we'll be having my partner on later tonight," he announced. You watched his chat explode with excitement, his special emotes flying in the chat.

You picked up your phone to shoot Kenma a quick text.

[you]:: hope you're ready to put our minecraft beds together in front of thousands of people 😏

Unsurprisingly, he left you on read. But dating him for this long meant you weren't even a little bit afraid of double or triple texting.

[you]:: maybe we can kiss under the light of an exploding creeper 😫

[you]:: or have a romantic walk through our rainbow sheep while a phantom looms overhead 🥰

It was after the third text when you finally saw him pick up his phone to text you back. You eagerly awaited his response, only to cackle when you read it.

[my sugar daddy]:: im going to replace you with hinata as my partner if you dont stop

Instead of annoying him any further, you set your phone to charge on your nightstand and went into the bathroom to get ready for the stream later.

Once you emerged, you picked up your phone to check the percentage and noticed a text from Kenma stating that he'd have you on at 8pm. You decided to spend the time until then cooking up some dinner for the both of you.

It seemed like time flew by because by the time you were done eating your food, it was 7:45pm. Only fifteen more minutes before you were live in front of all of Kenma's supporters. You refilled your water bottle and sat on the couch, staring at the blank T.V. as you practically dissociated from reality until Kenma came out of his office to retrieve you.

You noticed that he looked just as nervous as you did, despite his face not showing it the way yours did. His shoulders were up to his ears with tension, and his hoodie drawstring was pulled almost all the way through due to him fiddling with it.

He turned briefly to you after he brought you into his office, gesturing to make sure you knew to wait until he gave you the cue. He sat down, unmuted himself, and took down the 'away' screen he had for his audience.

This was it. Everything was going to change in literally ten seconds.

"Well, everyone...please welcome my partner, (Y/N)."

You walked cautiously around his large gaming chair and sat next to him in your modest desk chair that he had rolled into the room for the occasion.

Okay, you thought to yourself, now don't fuck this up.

"Hi, everyone."

Nailed it.

There was a painful moment of silence before the stream finally caught up, and you both heaved a sigh of relief when you saw nothing but declarations of excitement. Amongst the 'AHHHs' and spam of emotes were sweet comments about your appearance and how cute you two looked as a couple. You peeked over at Kenma and saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, elated to know that he was just as relieved as you were.

"Okay, let's start with the gameplay while we answer some questions," he said.

The questions and gameplay started out mild; when did you both start dating, how did you meet, who asked the other out first. They even asked a few simple questions about you specifically, like your favorite anime and your star sign. And while you did see a few bans in the chat after some inappropriate questions –no, you will not tell them the color of your underwear– most were easy and simple enough to answer.

Then they started to get a bit spicier.

"Bokutoslefttit donated $69.69 and asked, 'what is your main pet peeve with Kenma?'" he read, muttering a 'wow' under his breath at the username.

"Ooh, how can I be polite when exposing you?" you pondered while beating a cow to death with your sword. "It's probably how loud he gets whenever he's playing games with his good headphones on."

"I don't get loud," he defended.

"Oh yeah, you do. I've had to come in here several times to tell you to shut up like I'm your mother. I did it literally two days ago when you were playing with Lev."

"... Next question."

You rolled your eyes at his lack of comment but glanced over at the chat to pull up a new question. You stifled a laugh when you read, "Girlboss420 asked 'who has a fatter ass, Kuroo or (Y/N)?'"

"I'm not answering that."

"Come oooon, this is a Q&A. Can't have the Q’s without the A’s."

"Nope."

You were about to start reprimanding him for implying that Kuroo's ass was fatter than yours when you noticed he ran past you with a group of pillagers following closely behind. You turned to head into the house but when you opened the door, you noticed it was blocked off by obsidian.

"You are the absolute worst!" you exclaimed.

You made a break for it, sprinting past the shooting pillagers and around to the front of the house. You made it inside with only 2 hearts to spare. You turned, in real life, to Kenma to see him tight-lipped to avoid smiling about his betrayal.

"I'm moving my bed downstairs for the rest of the stream."

You both carried on with the stream without another incident, turning to the chat every now and again to answer some questions. Kenma even apologized to you by bringing home a horse that was named "I'm sorry."

It was about an hour and a half after you sat down when Kenma decided that he needed a bathroom break. Your heart fell to your ass when you realized that you'd be all alone to entertain his chat. You considered saying that you needed to pee as well, if it meant not having the spotlight on you.

Instead, when he got up to pee, you smiled and asked him to bring you back a snack and a refill. Oh, how the turns have tabled.

In the meantime, you decided to scroll through the chat and some of the donations to pick out another question to answer since Kenma was gone. You were initially looking for a funny or vulgar comment when you saw one that had a completely different vibe.

"Kermithateblog donated $25.00 and asked, 'what's your favorite part about being with Kenma?' Wow, that's a really sweet question. Let me think for a moment."

You paused to reflect on your relationship with Kenma over the two years you’d been together. You'd had your fair share of highs and lows like any other couple, but, in the end, you both learned how to work things out so you were both equally as happy in the relationship.

"So, as you guys know, he's a busy boy with streaming, creating content for YouTube, and also being a CEO of his own company, which all takes up the majority of his time," you began. "But when he finally can shut off his screens and crawls into bed late at night, I know that he's 100% there with me at that moment. He is able to give me his undivided attention and make me feel like his love for me comes above his love for gaming."

You gave a pause, trying not to get too emotional. You rarely got the chance to gush about Kenma because you knew how much he hated having attention on him, so if this was going to be your only opportunity to do so for a while, then you were going to take it.

"What y'all don't know is that he is the biggest baby when it comes to cuddling," you laughed. "He is absolutely the little spoon most of the time, and he loves when I stroke his hair and love on him all night. In a weird way, it makes me feel special and loved knowing that he trusts me enough to be vulnerable with me. I cherish the amount of time we have together because of that."

What you didn't know was that he had come back from refilling your water bottle rather quickly and stood outside the doorway to hear your speech. His heart almost burst when he heard your tender words describing how he made you feel. He knew that you rarely got to hear how much those quiet moments at night meant to him because he was guarded with his feelings.

Which is why he started into the room on a mission.

You smiled as soon as you saw him. "Welcome back, babe, we were just talking about--"

He approached you swiftly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hardly even got to bask in the moment before he was pulling away, setting down your water bottle as he sat back down with his controller in hand like he didn't just expose to his audience how much of a softy he really was.

It was in that moment when you realized how glad you were that you’d decided to appear on stream because you'd be able to look back at that clip over and over again to relive the intimate moment.

Noon on Sunday came at last. Kenma would finally be free from the prison of his office. Not to mention he could finally get off his ass and stretch.

Between your official appearance on stream and the sign-off, you popped in a few more times to say hello to the chat when you brought him some snacks and drinks. You stayed up through most of the night, although you accidentally napped for a few hours during the dead of night which gave you a little boost in energy.

In the end, the stream was a monumental success. Kenma had even managed to blow past his goal of $150k and make it to over $200k, which meant that he'd be getting the full e-body makeover for his next week of streams.

By the time Kenma came into your bedroom after freshening up and having a small snack, you were already dead asleep with your laptop propped open to show his now offline stream.

He tip-toed around the bed quietly, closed your laptop, pulled the covers up and over your curled-up body, and slipped in himself. As he settled, he felt you shift and grab at his worn t-shirt, opening your eyes slightly just to confirm that it's him.

He pulled you against his chest tightly, his body finally able to relax. He was sure it wouldn't be too long before he completely fell out.

"That was more fun than I thought it'd be," he heard you utter quietly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." His fingers gently danced across your shoulder blades as you mushed your face into his clean shirt. "I can't believe we raised so much today so quickly."

"I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked so hard on this."

"I also donated $2000 anonymously to speed up the process," he mumbled sheepishly, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head in hopes to lessen the blow of his secret.

It was quiet for a moment, and he wondered if he’d genuinely pissed you off before he felt the vibrations from your laugh against his chest.

"...I can't wait to ruin your hair, e-boy."

Written by: Luna

#kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu x reader #kenma imagines #haikyuu imagines #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#our writing #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff #luna writes

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strangunddurm · 3 years ago

Text

The Cabin

Masterlist

Pairing: Clyde Logan x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, alcohol consumption.

Please accept my offering of my vision of mountain man Clyde.

A hike in the woods was meant to calm your mind and let you focus on yourself for a while; a sort of cheap alternative to going to a spa. However, you were anything but relaxed, and focused on everything except just yourself.

You were lost. Despite spending hours on YouTube trying to learn how to navigate, you had still taken the wrong turn and didn’t notice until it was too late. Thankfully it was the beginning of autumn, so it was still warm outside, and you didn’t need to start worrying about getting cold just yet, despite the sun slowly descending across the horizon.

The crappy phone which you had insisted didn’t need replacing had died long before you realized just how lost you were. You had a particularly bad habit of never charging your phone and it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

You had taken a, supposedly, easy trail. ‘Beginner friendly’ was the description your friend had given you when you asked for tips. You were cursing them mentally in your mind now, their definition of ‘beginner friendly’ was obviously vastly different from yours.

It had been hours, or at least it felt like it. You were steadily making your way through the granola bars you had packed. Your version of survivor mode consisted of trying to eat everything you could see due to anxiety, instead of saving it in case you’d be out here for hours.

It was the same rock you had passed a while back, you were sure of it, convinced that you were officially just walking in one big circle.

You hadn’t seen anyone else out on the trails which were surprising.; you figured trails were usually always packed with curious adventurers.

The snap of a branch pulled you out of your inner monologue, causing you to freeze and your heart to painfully contract in fear. You were sure that this was the moment you would die; a rabid coyote was surely bound to attack you at any moment. Were there even coyotes in West Virginia? You didn’t want to find out.

Turning around to see what it was that had made the sound wasn’t an option in your mind, it really wasn’t. Turning around would, in your mind, mean that you were accepting being mauled to death and despite your sometimes negative output you wanted to live for a while longer.

“Please, please, please don’t be a coyote… pleas-“ You let out a loud scream as a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, instinctively jabbing your elbow back to connect with the somewhat soft stomach of someone who was very much not a wild and crazed animal.

Whoever was behind you let out a low ‘ouff’ sound from your attack but did not seem overly affected otherwise.

“Sorry!” It was a man’s voice, judging from the deep tone of it. You whirled around whilst simultaneously attempting to take a step backwards, resulting in you falling to the ground ungracefully. There was definitely no chance you could run away from him now if he turned out to be less than friendly.

“Who are you?” You shuffled back against the ground, trying to put some distance between the two of you in naïve hope. The stranger, noticing your distress, put his hands out in front of him whilst taking a few steps back, increasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ye.” You surveyed him sceptically as he apologized. He looked like he was a nice person, but that only went so far, anyone had the ability to look nice. He blended into your surroundings, lacking the bright colours you were wearing; it was obvious that he did not share in your desire to want to be seen. He also looked like he was much more used to the woods than you were (not that it was hard).

“Are ye okay?” His question made you realize that you hadn’t replied, and you were still lying there like a seal on the ground. You stumbled up onto your feet with a huff, grabbing a stick that was laying by your hand just as you thrust yourself up.

It was a small stick, definitely incapable of causing serious bodily harm but you hoped that if you were desperate enough, it could poke out an eye. Or at least scratch it.

You held it out in front of you, wielding it like a sword. It was hard not to miss the smile that flew across the stranger’s face. You were most likely a funny sight, a flustered and oblivious city girl waving a twig. But you felt like King Arthur waving Excalibur and that was all that mattered. One lonely girl pumped full of adrenaline could do a lot of damage with a twig and a mean right hook.

“What do you want?” You spat. A tiny voice inside of you told you that you were being ridiculous. Here he was, a nice man probably just concerned over seeing you wander through the woods, obviously lost, so close to nightfall. But the devil on your other shoulder told you to trust no man, to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and take off like a bat out of hell.

“I just wanted to see if ye were okay; it gets cold out here at night.” He still had his hands up like he was getting arrested. You considered his words carefully. You weren’t okay, you hadn’t planned on staying out until nightfall. All you were going to do was hike to the top of the mountain and go back down, but apparently, you were too incompetent to even perform that simple task.

“I called out a couple of times, but ye didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Oh,” You dropped the twig at the revelation. It explained a lot; you were after all notorious for getting lost in your thoughts and turning deaf.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly as you lowered the stick to your side but still grasped it tightly (just in case). You sent him a small apologetic smile even though you didn’t owe him one.

“So, do ye need help?”

“Hmm…” Did you need help? You glanced around you, surveying your surroundings again. It was a lot closer to dark than you were comfortable with. The granola bars were all gone, you didn’t have anything warmer on than the fleece jacket you had dug out from the back of your closet. You had no way of contacting anyone and you were not competent enough to build anything close to a working shelter for the night.

You eyed him again as you thought over your answer. He seemed nice enough, he reminded you slightly of a big, burly bear. He was a behemoth of a man, standing tall and wide with dark hair and eyes, but there was some kindness there that made you feel as if you could trust him.

The thing that eventually won you over was his hand, it was obviously a prosthetic now that you were focusing on him. You hoped that a prosthetic hand meant that it was much less likely that he could grab a firm hold on you.

Clyde Logan wasn’t a very talkative man. If you were to google ‘mountain man’ he would pop up as one of the image results. The modern version of course, accompanied by the usual camo gear. You had always had a weakness for the lumberjack flannels and the thick moustache that tickled his lips had you wondering what it would look like drenched in your juices.

But it would be stupid attempting to seduce the grumpy man that had saved you from certain death, right?

He knew so much about the woods and the dangers that were surrounding you, making you realize just how stupid you were to be out there alone. But of course, he didn’t offer you all of this information on his own. No, you had to practically force the words out of his mouth, but thankfully you were the Master of Babble, and he was eventually forced to answer if he ever wanted you to shut up.

You were making your way to his cabin that was apparently just over a mile away. Clyde was leading the way with you practically walking on his heels trying to keep up with his long strides and sneaking looks over your shoulder in paranoia to see if anyone was following the two of you.

Clyde had said that it was too late to return to your car seeing how late it was. Apparently, you had walked in the completely wrong direction from the start and were now a couple of miles away from civilization. He had graciously offered you a sleeping spot in his cabin over the night with a promise to help you back first thing in the morning.

It was picturesque, Clyde’s cabin. Nothing less than what you expected of the man, and surprisingly a lot cleaner than what you had assumed from stereotyping.

“This is so cute!” You admired, sending a small smile up to Clyde with a tilt of your head. He almost looked embarrassed over your praise, only responding with a small huff as he took his shoes off and walking toward the kitchen area.

It was a studio type of situation. Everything was in one room: the small kitchenette, tv-area, and makeshift bedroom. Clyde had flipped a switch which turned on a light that illuminated the entire cabin in a soft glow.

“There’s a bathroom over there.” Clyde gestured to a door on the left, and you couldn’t help peaking in. You hadn’t expected a fully functional bathroom at all, seeing how you were in the middle of nowhere but here it was. And you were so grateful. Going potty in the woods was not on your bucket list.

“Are ye hungry? It’s nothin’ much but I have some sandwiches that we can eat.” Clyde ran his fingers through his hair as he asked the question nervously when you came over after your brief tour of the cabin.

“A sandwich would be great, thank you!” You took it gratefully from his hand as he offered it to you before plopping down on the couch.

You were a lot hungrier than you had though. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you unwrapped the sandwich and taking a bite.

“Have you had this for long?” You said after you had finished chewing your first bite, gesturing with your hand wildly to the cabin.

“Couple of years.” Clyde didn’t look at you as he responded, focused intently on his own sandwich.

He left it at that, not elaborating any further and you didn’t want to cross the obvious boundary he had drawn, so you stayed quiet.

You were never good with silence and awkward situations. When others were perfectly comfortable with silence you just had to talk. Googled had diagnosed it as a symptom of anxiety but you had never actually built enough courage up to actually have a evaluation.

“Do you like to read?” You had taken notice of the overflowing bookcase he had. It was hard not to, it was perhaps the biggest piece of furniture he had, spanning the length of an entire wall.

“Mhmm” Honestly, the hums he would do to answer your questions made you soaked.

“What’s your favourite?” He looked as if he was considering your question, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

“It would have to be In Search for Lost Time by Marcel Proust.”

“I love that book.”

“Is that so?” You nodded your head with wide eyes, happy to have found a subject to talk about. You loved books, yes, but to be honest you had never read that book. But you were hoping you could wing it enough so that Clyde wouldn’t notice.

“What’s your favourite part?” Okay, so maybe you hadn’t thought it through. You couldn’t hide the small wince you did at his question.

It would’ve been better to have said nothing at all, you just really wanted Clyde to like you. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you were ever going to see him again. It was just that there was something about him that made you want to kneel and say, ‘please daddy’ and you didn’t know how to get there with someone so reluctant to talk.

“Ye tryin’ to impress me?” He must be a mind reader.

“Oh, no I just-“ You trailed off, unsure over what to say that would not make you seem as desperate.

He stood up, watching you as he made his way around the room, but he wasn’t moving toward you; instead, he disappeared through the front door without a word.

You deflated like a balloon as the door shut behind him, sinking into the cushions and cursing yourself. Why were you so desperate to impress people? The answer was simple because you were you and you had an irrational need for people having to like you.

Clyde wasn’t gone for long. He had simply gone out to fill up on the firewood for the fireplace that you had neglected to notice before.

“It’s supposed to get below 30 here tonight.” Was it rude to say that you were impressed with how easily he did things despite only having one hand? It wasn’t that you expected him to not be able to function at all, it’s just that you were barely functioning yourself with two hands.

It had already started getting just a tiny bit colder, enough for you to have curled your legs onto the couch, leaning on the armrest with a blanket thrown over you. The cold was a fiend that you would never get along with.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are ye sorry for?” He looked truly bewildered over your words, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you from his crouched position.

“I shouldn’t have lied.”

“’S okay.” He continued with starting a fire. “We’ve all told a white lie.”

“That’s true, but I’m usually better at playing it off.” You joked and he shared a chuckle with you.

It was cozy once Clyde got the fire started. He turned off the lamp in the ceiling, muttering something about preserving a battery, opting to turn on another by the bed and then settled back down. He was sitting next to you this time, not across from you in the chair as previously. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin, he was so close. The couch was small, only a two-seater, but you suppose that he didn’t need much more seeing how he was only one person.

Clyde crowded your personal space. It felt like he was everywhere around you, suffocating you (but in the best way). He slung his arm over the back of the couch, just barely grazing your back. You were surprised with how forward he was being but decided not to question it too much, figuring he might take it wrong and shy away.

“Yer not from ‘round here are ye?”

“Is it so obvious?” Of course, it was obvious. You told him where you lived and there seemed to be a small glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Ye should get a guide next time, one of the rangers will take ye for free.” It was surprising how caring he seemed to be.

“One of the rangers?” You didn’t want a ranger to show you around the next time.

“Mhmm”

“Can’t you take me?” You diverted your eyes from his face as you asked the question, feigning being shy. You let them trace down his sculptured-by-God body, double-checking for a ring on one of his fingers. There was none, or well you assumed that it wasn't a wedding ring. It didn't look like one, it had more of a class ring vibe to it.

Clyde didn’t respond immediately. He was studying you, analyzing every crevice of your face it seemed like.

It was impossible not to get lost in his eyes. You tried really hard not to at first but gave up way too quickly. You wondered if he knew just how attractive he was. He had to have several ladies running after him, desperate for a getaway in his cabin in the woods.

“Do ye want me to?” He finally asked. It was obvious that he had tensed up at your question. His back was rigid, he was sitting as straight as you had ever seen a person sit.

“Maybe…” You were subconsciously leaning closer toward him, inhaling as much of his sent as you could discreetly. It was very vampire-like of you.

He smelled just as you thought he would. Like pine trees. There was just the smallest undertone of sweat and it drove you wild. It wasn’t usually your scent of choice for obvious reasons but on Clyde… On Clyde it was as if he had been doused in some kind of pheromones that made you completely drenched and mad with want.

You thankfully stopped yourself before you could release the moan that was bubbling in your throat. Who in their right mind moaned to a stranger that they hadn’t even touched over the way they smelled? (Only counting people that weren’t high or drunk, of course).

It was a battle getting you to lean away from Clyde again, but the rational part of your brain thankfully won. You had to dig your nails into your thighs, trying to pinch yourself through the fabric of your pants to bring you back to reality and gain some self-control.

“I’ll take you.” He promised with a nod, looking as serious as always. You wondered if he always wore that expression with everyone. You hadn’t been able to coax a lot of smiles out of him, despite categorizing yourself as a fairly hilarious person and having cracked some jokes on the walk to the cabin.

You sent him a small smile in response, feeling relieved not to have been rejected. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He surveyed you for a while more before finally asking if you wanted a drink.

The makeshift bar cabinet that he had was surprisingly well-stocked. Too well-stocked for him to be a raging alcoholic. You questioned him curiously about it. Finding out that he was a bartender was a welcomed surprise. You challenged him to make a drink you had never heard of, and he was quick to deliver.

It was delicious, making it easy to pay him compliments over his talent.

“I own a bar, ‘s called Duck Tape.” It was clear that he was proud over his business, with the way his chest seemed to almost swell with his words.

You told him about your own job, not exactly sharing the same enthusiasm seeing how your job was one of the main reasons for why you needed a stress-relieving hike in the first place.

You’d always been a lightweight. It was no secret; you had an uncanny ability to be able to get hammered on one glass of alcohol. Google told you that it could have something to do with your liver, but you did not want to go to the hospital to find out.

You neglected to think about this small fact when you asked Clyde to make you a drink and you were now suffering the consequences. You were drunk, or at least somewhere over the border of tipsy.

Clyde seemed to have relaxed from the alcohol as well. He was much freer in letting a laugh leave his body which had caused you to jump at first in surprise at the boisterous sound.

He had shuffled closer to you, or was it you that had shuffled closer to him? It had happened without either of the two of you noticing but you didn’t try to move away once you did.

You didn’t speak about anything of significance, not really. It was all nonsense, but you never wanted it to stop. Eventually, you mutually decided that sleep was a necessity if you were going to have the energy to get back to your car in the morning.

“Ye can take the bed if ye want.” Clyde motioned over the back of the couch toward the bed in the corner of the room. You glanced over at it, gnawing at your lip as you considered his proposal. Would it be inappropriate to say that you wanted him to share the bed with you?

The bed was too small for it to be shared in any way that wasn’t intimate which was exactly what you wanted.

You assumed that Clyde was as interested in you as you were of him. His hand was dangerously close to your knee as it sat on the seat of the sofa; if he moved his finger less than an inch it would graze your skin.

“Where would you sleep?” You feigned innocent.

“I’ll take the couch.” He knew what you were doing; you could see it in his eyes. They had grown even darker than before and were hooded as they watched you. It was easy to get lost in them, they were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen.

Both of you knew that neither of you would sleep on the couch that night.

There was a flurry of hands and all of a sudden you were in his lap, grinding down, lips connected to one another.

Clyde was a great kisser. Scratch that. He was amazing. He knew exactly how to make you completely drenched from just a few nibbles and strokes of his tongue against your own. He was a natural (Or a player, but you somehow got the impression that he didn’t lure innocent people to his cabin on the regular for a quick lay).

You could feel how hard he was despite the layers separating his bulge from your core. Hard and large and it made you dizzy to think about.

Clyde was taking his time running his hands up and down your waist, his right hand grabbing here and there, never moving under your shirt despite your obvious eagerness. A roll of his hips elicited a moan from you.

Your own hands weren’t shy in their movements; they were grasping onto his broad shoulders, holding on to the fabric as you tried to pull him closer to you.

He separated his lips from yours with a chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” His crooked grin was panty-dropping worthy.

He trailed his lips down your neck before you could reply, suckling gently over your pulse point.

The moan he pulled from you echoed around the room as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him more room to roam.

Your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. You had always been extra sensitive around the neck and the combination of his lips and the tickle from his moustache was enough to send you into overdrive.

“Clyde…” You breathed out his name shakily, feeling tingles start to travel from your hands and up your arms from the excitement.

He hoisted you up surprisingly quickly from the sofa, causing you to let out a shriek in surprise.

He was strong. Of course, he was strong, you shouldn’t have expected anything else but still…

He carried you toward the bed, setting you down unceremoniously on the edge. You had to grab a hold of the sheet so as not to fall over.

“I want you to strip.” There was no room for arguing in his voice, and it was exactly what you needed. You didn’t want to have to think about your actions.

He was watching you intently, waiting for you to do as you were told, causing you to frantically reach for the zip of your fleece, pulling it down your arms and then throwing it mindlessly away from you.

Your shirt was the next thing that came off. Clyde’s gaze followed as your shirt revealed more and more skin. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip hungrily.

Your bra wasn’t perhaps the sexiest thing you owned but you weren’t exactly expecting to be in the situation you were when you headed out that morning.

The bra joined the other items a bit slower. You wanted to drag it out; was it mean that you wanted him to have to suffer just a tiny bit?

You were basking in his obvious admiration of your body as you slowly slid the pants down and stepped out of them, leaving you in just your socks and underwear.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sexiest you had ever looked, but it was the sexiest you had ever felt, and that was the important part.

“Panties too.” He had started palming himself through his pants, huffing out small groans of satisfaction here and there. It had made you drenched and you did not doubt that it was obvious to him just how aroused you were.

You were finally standing there in front of him, completely bare, socks and panties having been removed. His eyes ran over every inch and crevice of you that was visible in the low light.

He was still fully dressed, having just unbuttoned his pants so that he could force his hand down to tug at himself.

“I want you to lay down and touch yourself.” Touch yourself? Couldn’t he do it? You opened your mouth to argue but one look from Clyde made you snap your mouth shut again.

The comforter was soft against your skin as you laid down on your back. You were shy as you separated your legs just enough so that you could slip your hand in between your legs.

The first touch was electric. You had never felt such a reaction from simply touching yourself. Sure, you were an expert in getting yourself off, but it never felt quite like this, not this good from so little.

You circled your bud, applying just the right pleasure that caused you to moan. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, getting lost in the feeling building in your belly.

“Open yer eyes.” He had moved closer, a lot closer, with surprising stealth as you hadn’t heard even a low scuffle of feet. His eyes were commanding the attention of your own as he scolded you.

You withdrew your hand automatically from yourself, moving it up to rest on your belly, thinking that he must want you to stop. You were wrong, however, for his eyes snapped down to watch it and he scolded you once again.

“I didn’t tell ye to stop.” He only moved away once more when he was satisfied with your continued movements.

He walked over to the single chair by the living room table, dragging it with him back over to the bed, placing it by the end where he would get just the right view of you working yourself.

He pulled his pants down before sitting down with a huff. He had gone commando. You let out a whimper of need at the sight.

Clyde Logan was the owner of the most perfect cock you had ever seen. It was so heavy that it had barely been able to bob against his stomach, despite his sitting position.

You arched your neck, trying to get a closer look. It was swollen and huge and pink at the tip. His thumb was working over the head, smearing the precum that had leaked out.

“Ye stopped.” It was a statement, and he didn’t need to give you further instructions for you to once again start moving your hand between your legs.

You let it travel further down this time, to collect some of your wetness with two fingers before bringing it up to your mouth and tasting yourself. Sweet and tangy.

Clyde didn’t make a single sound to let you know if he was affected by your actions, so all you could do was assume that he was, and that was enough to spur you on.

You brought your hand back down, inserting a finger slowly, testing the waters. You were more than ready, your walls giving way easily to the intrusion.

A second soon joined the first and you set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out with a squelch as your walls clenched around your digits. Your other palm came up to massage at your breast, twisting the nipple between your fingertips.

Your chest heaved with your moans that were penetrating the air. It was hard keeping your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling but you had to stay focus, you didn’t want to miss a second of seeing Clyde slumped from the pleasure of his touch as he fucked into his hand.

“I want ye to make yerself cum.” You were more than happy to give in to this demand. Your fingers were moving urgently inside of you, and your other hand moved on from your breast, coming down to pinch at your clit and then rub tight small circles over it.

The heat that had been steadily building inside of you, blossoming in your stomach, was slowly taking over your entire body now. Your toes were beginning to curl, and you were fighting your eyes from rolling backwards in your head.

And then, it all became too much for you and you let go and the best part of it all rolled over you like tidal waves, washing through you, soaking you with that post-orgasmic glow.

You let your fingers slowly slip out of you, letting your arms fall to your sides as you watched Clyde get up. You didn’t know if he had come, having been too focused on yourself, but it didn’t matter, he still stood at full attention.

Your mouth practically frothed at the sight of him, you could turn rabid from the need that you had for him. A whine slipped out of your mouth, an arm lifting up to reach out for him, needing to touch him.

He came close enough so that your fingers could just barely brush against the fabric of his pants that he still insisted on having on.

Rage took over your body. It was an irrational rage, why did he still have them on? You wanted them off and you wanted them off now. You had to see him, all of him, before you went insane from the deprivation. Was it even possible? To lose your mind over not getting to see another person naked? You certainly thought so.

You sat up, leaning on one of your shoulders as you looked up at him with a glare on your face.

“Take them off.” He was thoroughly amused by your attempt at a demand. You didn’t achieve quite the same rumble in your tone that he had which left no room for arguing, but still, he conceded and pushed the pants down his legs until they were low enough to be kicked off.

His shirt followed soon after, almost hitting you in the face as he threw it carelessly toward the corner of the bed.

You couldn’t help but admire him. A work of art, good enough to be hung in the Met, that was for sure.

You got on your knees in front of him, the height from the bed aiding you in being just tall enough so that you could place kisses on his chest- You placed the first one in the middle, right over his sternum whilst looking up at him.

Your eyes stayed locked as you planted another kiss over his heart, the next on his right pec, and so forth. They circled around one of his nipples, letting your teeth give it a small nibble before pulling it with you just a bit before releasing it and letting it revert to its original state, hard as a rock.

It was starting to get more and more obvious just how affected Clyde was getting, his arousal much more prominent, if that was even possible. You could feel it against your skin, you didn’t want to touch it just yet, dragging it out for as long as you could.

You enjoyed watching him become more and more flustered by your actions. His chest was heavy with each audible breath, cock tapping against your lower stomach, begging to be touched, but you kept your hands away. They were holding on to his thighs, caressing them in small movements that were making their way toward his cock at snail pace.

“Ye gon’ tease me all night?” You let out a laugh at the ridiculous accusation. If anybody had been the one to tease, it was Clyde.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” You threw the question back at him, biting your lip with an innocent smile.

He growled. He actually growled and you could feel how it caused a trickle to roll down your leg.

“Didn’t yer mammy or daddy ever teach ye not to talk back?”

“They didn’t actually” His eyes had steadily grown darker and darker as the evening progressed and were now on the border of black.

He smashed your lips together, grabbing a hold of your face with his right hand with a bruising grip. He kissed and nipped at your lips before pulling back and pushing you back onto the bed.

He was quick to follow you onto the bed as he guided you to lay on your back, spread eagle, with him kneeling between your legs. His hands were on his hips as he watched you. You squirmed under his gaze, trying to create some type of friction anywhere that would aid in bringing you closer to another release.

His kisses started on your inner knee, building their way up at a torturous pace. He didn’t leave a kiss between your legs; instead, he just hovered there so you could feel his hot breath tickle you before continuing.

You were practically sobbing for more when he finally made it to your lips.

“Please, you have to…”

“I have t’ what?” He looked completely serious as he looked down at you, balanced on one hand. He was expecting an answer from you, and you didn’t know what to say. You obviously wanted him to fuck you but for some reason, you were too shy to say it.

“Mhm… thought so,” He hummed before dropping down to his elbows pressing his entire body onto you.

You could feel all of him. His skin was electric against your own and you could feel his length brushing over your clit. He rolled his hips in a small wave and you arched your back from the moan that escaped you.

It had all built up so much that the smallest touch from him could cause you to completely fall apart, despite the orgasm you had had. It was because it was different when Clyde was the one that touched you; your own touch was nowhere near adequate in comparison.

He rolled his hips again, this time applying just a bit more pressure and you couldn’t help but to widen and draw up your legs slightly, wanting to give him easier access.

“I didn’t tell ye tha’ ye could move.” You were trembling from need at his words. You needed more; couldn’t he understand that?

You were reluctant as you started to bring your legs back down, but he (thankfully) hooked his left arm around your leg, stopping its descent. He hoisted it up to rest by the side of his hip as he simultaneously sat back upon his haunches.

“Do ye need me inside of ye?” Your head had started nodding before he could even finish the sentence, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face.

“I need t’ be inside of ye too.” They were the most glorious words you had ever heard.

His right hand gave a tug at his cock, but it didn’t need any more preparation. It was hard and as ready for you as you were him. He grabbed a hold of base, stabilizing it as he dragged it through your sweet and slickened folds before slowly slipping inside.

Your walls easily gave way for him as he finally pushed in due to your overflowing arousal. He stretched you as wide as you would go with little pain and raw pleasure. You were clenched tightly around him, walls squeezing him in a vice grip, trying to draw him in even deeper.

You could feel yourself grow more and more manic in your need as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. It was as if all other senses had disappeared and all you could focus on was his powerful thrusts that were drilling into you.

He kept your right leg at his hips, whilst his other hand was hoisting your left over his shoulder after just a few deep thrusts.

You choked from the warmth that spread through your body from this position. He was deeper than you even knew you could take him. The head of his cock tapping at your cervix with every drilling thrust but there was no pain, only excruciating pleasure that made tears leak from your eyes from happiness.

The carnal need was as fervent within Clyde as it was you. He couldn’t take it slow; his thrusts were forceful and intent on driving you to your next orgasm as quickly as he could.

“Fuck, ye feel good.” Clyde hissed. “Such a sweet an’ tight little pussy.”

Your eyes could barely focus on him, only catching small glimpses of him with his hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture that was collected there. Your hands were grasping onto the duvet, needing something to hold onto in desperation.

His thrusts were precise and well calculated; he hit that spot inside of you over and over again that made you let out guttural moans.

But he enjoyed torturing you and he suddenly came to a halt, retracting from you completely.

“Move over.” He helped to guide you in your haze. Your own movements were thankfully still quick despite your barely lucid mind as you shuffled to the side, and he laid down on the bed.

Clyde’s hand was supporting his base, helping it stand tall, ready for you to penetrate yourself onto it. You threw your leg over his hips to straddle him. You hovered over his cock, looking down to see how you were dripping on to him.

You didn’t stay there for too long before mounting yourself onto it, dropping down with a pant as you engulfed him within you.

The pace you set was frantic, chasing climax. Your hands came down to rest on his chest to better help you push yourself up and down his cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his echoed around the room, driving your wild.

He was a sight for sore eyes underneath you. Lost in the madness and wild from it all. His desire and pleasure were so clear on his face from the way his mouth was parted and the way his eyes admired you, following your every movement.

He used his right hand to help you ram down onto him again and again.

You got on your feet, gaining better leverage than you had had before on your knees, bouncing up and down. You were so, so close; you could feel your orgasm simmering there underneath the surface, you just needed a small push to get there. And Clyde delivered that small push.

“Yer such a good girl, takin’ me so well. You just love bein’ fucked, don’t ye?”

Your walls clamped down on him, legs shaking as you came to a stop, being unable to continue as you fell forward onto his chest, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled your body.

He received you in his arms, letting his hand caress over your spine as you continued to slightly convulse from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl” He crooned in your ear with a kiss and tug on your lobe.

Clyde wasn’t as sweet when he pinned both your arms to your sides with one of his, holding you in place as he started slamming his hips up into you, chasing his own pleasure.

The sounds that came out of your as he rammed himself in over and over again were indistinguishable. You were gushing around him, your entire body vibrating from another orgasm, but he still didn’t let up. His hips were starting to stutter, however, thrusts being off-pace as he pounded into you.

And then a sharp thrust was accompanied by a husky cry as he ejected deep inside of you. He managed to pump into you a few more times as your walls milked him, your mixed climaxes collecting at his base.

You were exhausted, unable to move so he stayed there, deep inside of you as he grew flaccid.

You thought it was a fuck for the history books.

#clyde smut #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x you #clyde logan #clyde #clyde x reader #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x reader #adcu fanfic #adcu fic rec #adam driver #adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adam driver character #adcu #oneshot

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sunflowersoldat · 3 years ago

Text

Haunted Dreams

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: TW Violence

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You haunted his dreams, but he forced himself to sleep; even a nightmare with you was better than reality-

You struggled against the strong arms holding you, watching in horror as a goon kicked Bucky on to his knees. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was chained, forced to kneel on the ground, the Winter Soldier and the love of your life, being treated like a wild animal. “As you can see my dear,” Zemo stalked into the moonlight, removing his mask, “if you apply the right amount of pressure to the correct nerve,”

Your head snapped harshly to the side as a leather clad fist collided with your cheek. Bucky pulling at his chains as he growled at Zemo. Your head was swimming as your heavy eyes met Bucky’s. Zemo grabbed Bucky’s chin roughly, ensuring his gaze didn’t falter from yours, “Even the most rabid dog will heel.” He gestured down to Bucky, “These chains aren’t special. He could easily break them, but…”

You hissed as a hand tangled in your hair ripping your head backward. White hot pain radiated on your face as a bright blade tailed down your cheek, followed by a steady stream of warm blood. you ground your teeth, eyes never leaving Bucky’s, willing him to understand the look in your eyes; you were fine, you would endure anything they threw at you pain, wounds, it was worth is to ensure his safety. Zemo released Bucky’s face, his blue eyes aflame, remained trained on yours, “It’s a shame he knows too well killing me would do nothing but seal your fate. You would be dead before I even hit the ground.” He nodded his head towards Bucky, a goon walked out into the light and started to unlock his chains as another man walked to Zemo with a book. Not just any book, you recognized this one, the read leather with the black star. You yanked against the man holding you, “You bastard! Don’t you dare!” your head snapped to the side again with the force of another blow. Zemo only tsked, as Bucky’s eyes widened, but he knew if he tried anything, they would kill you.

“You will be nothing but a memory to him. Готовый солдат? (Ready soldier?) The man behind Bucky unlocked his chains, grabbing him by the hair, ensuring Bucky saw the man holding you place his blade to your throat, before forcing him to look at Zemo.

“Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать.” Bucky tried to stand, surging toward Zemo, only to be shoved back onto the ground as the man holding him forced his gaze to yours. The man’s blade cutting into your neck just enough to cause you to bleed, a strangled whimper falling from your lips as you blinked tears away.

“Рассвет. Печь. Девять́ добросердечный.” Bucky screamed, yanking himself from the man’s grasp so he could look at you, you could see the terror mixed with sorrow and love in his ocean eyes. A sob racked through you,

“Возвращение на Родину. Один. Товарный вагон.” As the last word was spoken, Bucky collapsed onto the ground. Silence filled the room, if a pin dropped on the other end of the warehouse, you would have heard it. Bucky stirred on the floor, “Солдат?” Bucky stood, staring straight at you, except it wasn’t Bucky, the man you knew was gone, replaced with the weapon created and manipulated by Hydra. His bright blue eyes now dull, burning into yours.

“Я готов от��ечать”

A greasy smile spread across Zemo’s lips, “Отлична солдат. Теперь убей её.” (Good soldier. Now kill her.) Your eyes widened as the man who was restraining you shoved you forward. You landed on your hands and knees as the soldier stalked toward you, you scrambled to your feet, backing away. You were no match for the Winter Soldier, you knew that, but there was nowhere for you to go.

“You are a sick bastard Zemo!” The soldier swiftly closed the distance between you, his metal hand shooting out to wrap itself around your throat tightly. Both of your hands flying up to his wrist, “Bucky… Wake up… Please… you can fight this.” You choked on the words, forcing them out of your strangled throat, as you gasped for air. As your vision started to blur, you understood there was no way for you to reach him.

Zemo was going to make him kill you, you reached out with one hand, tears streaming down your face as you caressed his cheek, “Bucky, I know you are in there… It’s okay… It’s not your… fault… I forgive you… I love… Yo…” your final breath slipping through your lips as Zemo spoke a single word you couldn’t understand. –

Bucky blinked slowly at the sight in front of him, “I forgive you… I love… yo…” were the last words leaving your lips, his hand still tightly wrapped around your throat. The light leaving your eyes as your hand fell from his face. He immediately released you, dropping to his knees to catch you before your body could hit the ground. A wordless cry ringing through the warehouse, he held you tightly against his chest. His whole world lying lifeless in his own hands. There was indistinct yelling and chaos around him, but his eyes never left yours, as he caressed your already cooling cheek. “Bucky?!” a firm hand gripped his shoulder… -

Bucky’s eyes wretched open at the sudden contact on his left shoulder, he was breathing hard as he took in his surroundings. He was in the Avengers Tower, Steve standing over him, “Buck?” he looked to Steve, blinking slowly when Steve offered him his hand, Bucky took it. “Same as always?” Steve asked softly, Bucky nodded slowly. His dreams always were now, but even reliving that day was better than forgetting you.

You haunted his dreams, but he forced himself to sleep; even a nightmare with you was better than reality-

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing Alike: I

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Hello and thank you for choosing to read Nothing Alike. If you read my last series with Geralt you know that things can get pretty dark, but for the most part (at least right now) this story is going to be a bit more light hearted.

Masterlist

He prayed the rumors weren’t true.

He prayed that the dreaded letter he had received was nothing more than hyperbolic ramblings of the townsfolk.

He prayed that he wouldn’t have to raise his sword at all.

He just wanted to sleep, to be free of monsters for just a few days, to lay beneath the stars beside his horse while a fire cooked a rabbit he had caught and he dozed to the sound of crickets in the trees. That’s all he really wanted, and yet he was marching through the woods towards another town that had requested his presence. The sun was warm, filling the air with the rich scents of heated forest. It caressed his neck and shoulders, as if lulling him into the sleep he so desperately craved.

It had been a long time since he had been to the town that summoned him. When he had first been released back into the wild as a Witcher. 200 years ago, and it was still the dirtiest town he had ever seen. The moment he stepped inside he felt as if an extra layer of grime had been added to everything he owned. The air was thick and clogged and the windows were all shuttered closed, but strangest of all was the lack of people. The sun was still in high noon, yet there was no one. No one bustled to finish their shopping and no children played in the streets, it was like a ghost town. The only sound was the crows sitting on the rooftops and a very distance rumbling. He moved towards the center of the town, hoping the find an explanation for the silence.

And an explanation he received. Surrounding a bar was a mob of people, screaming and stopping their feet. That at least explained the rumbling, but it failed to explain why they were here, and what they were screaming about. He shoved his way through the crowd, knocking over the angry townspeople as he went.

“Hey, we don’t need another Witcher in this town to take our money,” an angry woman sneered at him, spitting on his shoes. He ignored her and continued forward, but her angry cry seemed to have alerted the crowd to his presence and pushing through the crowd was growing more difficult with each step. Finally, he made it to the center and found a crude fighting ring. Inside the ring was a cloud of dust and two people rolling around in the dirt.

One seemed much smaller than the other and he was unsure why such an unmatched fight had drawn such a crowd, until the bigger opponent let out a howl of pain. The smaller leapt away and then with a well-placed kick, knocked out a few teeth. Geralt dodged the molars and moved closer, trying to get a better look at the two opponents. Another few hits and the smaller was on top of the larger, a strong arm around his throat. The larger staggered backwards, slamming his opponent into the wall but they didn’t budge, only squeezing tighter until he tumbled to the ground, face blue.

“Tap out,” came the cry and without hesitation he did so. The smaller opponent climbed off and the crowd booed, clearly not in favor of the winner. The winner did not seem to care as they bowed, their hair tumbling out to reveal a woman behind all that grime. She was grinning as she collected her gold from the unhappy townsfolk. Her eyes flashed across his and he stepped back, startled by the gold irises that mimicked his own.

She was a witcher like him, and here she was wasting her life by robbing people of their gold. She walked towards the bar, her bag of coins jingling like bells on a sleigh. He pushed through the crowd and followed her into the bar, stalking her towards the booth in the back corner that he would have chosen anyway if she had not been there first.

He sat down across from her, but she didn’t acknowledge him, instead counting the gold that she had collected while outside.

“The bastards cheated me,” she sighed before glancing up and smiling. “Do you need something?”

“You’re a witcher.”

“Ah yes, an observant fellow, so are you.”

“You’re taking advantage of these people. You know you’ll win, it’s not a fair fight.”

“Our whole lives are unfair.”

“We were not made for this, we were made to save-,”

“Save ourselves, survive. Darling, you owe them nothing. How old are you anyway, a couple hundred years?”

“A few,” he growled, and she laughed, sliding the gold back into her pouch.

“Makes sense, you older witchers are all about tradition.” He wanted to throw her against the wall, anger boiling in a deep pit of his stomach. Here she was insulting him, and she didn’t even have the decency to offer him her full attention. She was braiding her hair!

“And by that you mean?”

“You think you’re the first Witcher with a vendetta to come around here and try to end all my fun?” He did his best to not let a look of surprise pass over his face, but she caught it anyway. “Oh you did, well if it makes you feel any better you’re the politest. The others had no sense of conversation, just show up and try to drag me out of town or kill me. You’ve all ranted about the same thing though, tradition.”

“You are a disgrace to your school-,”

“The school I didn’t choose to attend you mean, or maybe I’m a disgrace to the Witcher who brought me in, who convinced my mother that him taking me away was for the best because she couldn’t afford to feed us. Maybe I’m a disgrace to my dear old mother, but she’s dead now and honestly I wouldn’t give a fuck even if she was alive.” She stood up and turned towards the door but Geralt caught her wrist, yanking her back into the booth.

“Leave this town or I will be forced to make you.”

“You won’t be the first to try, and you won’t be the last to fail. This town has been trying to get me out for months. No one can make me do anything I don’t want to do, that’s the only gift they gave me, power to get ride of invasive pricks like you. So why don’t you move on, Witcher,” she spat. She yanked away but he didn’t let go of her arm, tightening his grip with every moment. She rolled her eyes and pulled out a needle point dagger, driving it through his arm and into the table.

He growled like a tortured animal, grinding his teeth trying not to let her escape his grasp, but she slipped out and disappeared into the unhappy crowd. He yanked the blade from his arm and charged after her. He watched her long braid whip around the corner, towards the inn portion of pub.

The stairs creaked under his feet, crying for reprieve but nothing slowed him down. He was going to drag her out of this town if it killed him. A door slammed behind him and the young witcher was grinning at him from a shutterless window. She blew him a kiss and fell backwards, dropping out of view. He rushed to the ledge and with a sneer she pulled herself out of the hay in which she had landed and took off down the street. He jumped, not bothering to brush off the hay and taking off after her.

The streets were crowded again with merchants and buyers, now that there was no desperate fight to rid themselves of a witcher everyone could continue with their day and make Geralt’s life a little more difficult than it had to be. While the complained about her under their breath it almost seemed that they were protecting her, rolling carts into his way and sending chickens after him.

Throughout the chase, he never let her out of her sight, trying to study her on the run. He was big and strong, a clear advantage if it came to hand to hand combat but he could tell she was quick and clever. Darting in and out of the crowd, using magic to gently shift things out of her way. It was skilled magic, one that he had never seen such a young witcher use so well. She must have been one of the best at school, an idol to all those who desired to become the best. But she had also been rebellious, the scars that creeped above her neckline proved that. There was no anger in her eyes when she looked at him, only annoyance and small plea that he would just leave her alone. It was clear she had an idea about life that she could never achieve, but from the way she ran he was sure she would rather die than not try.

She darted into an alley and he followed/ When he finally came close, she was scaling the wall, punching handholds into the walls with very bloody fingers and moving faster than he would have expected. With the blunt edge of his sword he smacked the back of her knees, sending her tumbling to the ground.

From the ground she eyed his sword and backed away like a wild animal that had been cornered. He didn’t move while she stood, her back pressed against the stone wall. There was still no anger in her eyes, now, instead of annoyance, it was a wild look he had only found in rabid dogs.

“Not so tough now,” he taunted, drawing nearer, is sword prepared to defend whatever she threw at him. She barked a hoarse laugh and he watched as her fingers crept to her belt. There was no sword, only a small knife that would do nothing against his sword.

“They always said to go down fighting,” she replied and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to go down at all, just leave and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Until I set up in another town and their lord calls for you to exterminate me, you don’t get your gold if I’m not dead. That’s why I had to kill them, every one he sent my way, because no will ever tell me what to do again.”

“What’s your name?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Just humor me.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Geralt.”

“I don’t care who you are, only one of us is going to walk away from this, and if it’s me I couldn’t care less what the fuck your name is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, we’re both going to walk away from this and you’re going to need to know my name,” he told her very calmly before swinging his sword and catching the side of her head with the blunt edge once more. Completely unconscious, she dropped to the ground, her knife tumbling from her hands.

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alegzandryan · 4 years ago

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Prepping for a Ritual

So since I am doing these things as we speak I thought I would go through some ritual things that I find useful, for anyone that feels overwhelmed or unprepared for ritual work. I know tumblr and tiktok have pushed a lot of easy jar spells on us, but there really is something more to a ritual setting, even a simple one. And as it goes without saying, this is my personal idea of a guide and everyone is entitled to their own opinion and practice.

Get your supplies ready the day before the ritual. ESPECIALLY if you are going outside/somewhere outside your home. Collect all the things you will need and put them together. This will give you a day to remember all the things you forgot before it's time, instead of in the middle of your ritual

Choose what you are going to wear the day before, too. Some people take aesthetic very seriously but others dont. Either way, give some thought to what you are wearing. Is that crystal necklace good for what you are doing? Are those pants comfortable enough to sit for 30 minutes in? Comfortability is just as important as presentation for ritual, so dont wear that corset that hurts you after 15 minutes. You will need to focus on more important things.

Foot wear is also super underrated. Are you hiking 10 minutes into the forest to find a ritual spot? Wear boots. Are you in your house and want to go barefoot? Make absolutely sure you are not going to step on a ritual tool and make yourself bleed, or curse to some gods about the existence of legos in the middle of your ritual

Make some stuff for a cleansing/power bath. I usually assemble ingredients and things day before, then go to bed, and do a quick ritual bath before the actual ritual. Steep a hair rinse or charm a fancy body wash before hand so you dont have to focus on that spell, too.

Do a tarot reading/your preferred divination, before bed the day before you do a ritual. It can be quick or extensive, it doesnt matter. But it can be good to get some guidance before you are gearing up for a spell or ritual, and have some time to think about it before you are minutes away from it.

Prepare food and water, once again especially if you are going outside. Rituals can take a lot out of you depending on what you are doing, and food and drink are very easy and quick ways to help ground yourself if you are shaky or need help coming back to a relaxed state. If you are struggling, boiling pasta or microwaving stuff is the last thing on your mind, or maybe even your ability. So have some fruit snacks or granola bars or cookies or something-- easy to take and easy to eat-- with you. Trust me, this is more important than a lot of people realize. It's a good after-ritual practice and one you should be ready for

Think about your intent and purpose. Set aside some time day-before to do this, maybe 30 min to 1 hr I would say. Maybe make an entry in your BOS if you are the journaling type. This serves 2 functions: one is to charge your intent before the spell. It will give you more oomph and precision in your spell casting, or more prepared behavior if you are speaking to gods. Think about what you want to ask them, what you want them to know, how much respect you should give them, or what they may ask of you. What are you willing to do for them, and what are you not?

The second function is that it gives you time to back out of something. Not all spells are meant to be cast, and especially not if you are in a high emotion before it. Give yourself a day to prepare, an hour to think over, why am I doing this? SHOULD I be doing this even? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Doing things impulsively in magic isn't typically beneficial to the caster most of the time. Think through potential consequences, too. How could it back fire? How could it go right but in the wrong way? Is there a better way to get what you want? Can you add a caveat, or a time limit on the spell? Are you using parts of a closed practice and not really thought about it before now?

If you are doing spell work in the out-of-your-house-space-land, even if it is just like, in your appartment parking lot, the park down the street or even your own backyard, make sure someone somewhere knows about it. I know not everyone is out of the broom closet, but even if you just have to tell your friends you are stargazing or something, make sure SOMEONE knows and has a check in time for you. There are creeps and terrible people everywhere, and not to spook anybody, but doing magic can often attract animals or any assortment of beings who want to watch/investigate you. I have been given a heart attack by a baby antelope at dawn before. I have also been given a heart attack by a forest spirit asking wtf I was doing there. I know it doesnt exactly feel witchy to have your cellphone crammed in your waistband, but trust me, better safe than sorry. Be it humans or otherwise, doing magic in the dark in total secret is just not realistic to your safety. Take someone with you and have them wait in the car or around the corner if you can. Once again, make sure someone, somewhere, has a set time to call or come get you in, incase you get kidnapped or fae-napped. Your wellbeing is a much higher priority than any magic spell.

Also familiarize yourself with nearby wildlife. Even if you are in the city, check out what raccoon eyes look like in flashlight, or maybe if your suburb is prone to stray cats or dogs. Check out a rabies registry as well, so you know what kind of risk you are looking at around such animals. Rabid animals are actually more prone to being unafraid of human contact and will readily let a person touch them. Do NOT interact with wild animals. No, they are not a sign or a gift from your god. Most animals are curious about magic in general, but that doesnt make them not wild. Do not interact. If you are in a less populated space, you should also check out what kind of wild life is native to your area and how dangerous they are. Deer will startle themselves into you like getting hit by a BMW and bears and cougars can be active day or night, as well as Bobcats, snakes, or coyotes. Check out your local wildlife center for advice on how to handle what lives in your area

(Last outdoors advice, I promise) also check out what kind of myths and legends existed on the land you are on, ESPECIALLY if you live in north america. Knowing who's land you are on should be important to your practice anyway, and knowing what kind of creatures may be out there may save you some distress later. Indigenous cultures should be respected, and their tales can tell you what's around your area. And I dont care where the hell you live, if you hear whistling in the darkness/forests, it is one of several things coming to get you and none of them are good. Get gone and DONT whistle back. Or at all. No whistling guys. Bad.

For indoor rituals, make sure you wont be disturbed. Much like meditation, rituals are very dependent on focus and intent. Interruptions can mess with your outcome.

More indoor advice, checkout your lighting and ventilation well before you do your ritual. For instance, my altar is in a walk in closet-- there is no way in hell I am burning 4 candles and an incense in that room. I would have to do it in my living room or bedroom where there are windows, or find a way to eliminate the candles. Is the room dark enough to fit your ritual? Is it light enough that you can read your notes? (also make notes/write up a copy of the spell, it helps so much) Make sure you have enough light to see what you are doing properly.

I am a big advocate of "do not over cleanse your life, stop over cleansing" however, if that is something you do a lot of, make sure all your tools and whatnot are cleansed and prepared day before. You can shave a 2hr ritual down to 30 min if you get all of your prep work done day before, which is nice. And it once again gives you time to say "shit I forgot that one thing I need to cleanse" an hour later and still not interrupt your ritual because it is day before.

If you are an of-legal-age type person and doing some drug/alcohol part of your magic, make double sure you have food, water, and a buddy system. You may not need a designated driver if you aren't going out of your house, but you still need a designated sober person to make sure you dont like, astral travel out of your body and get replaced with a pod person, or get hurt trying to cast a circle with a ritual knife while high. Know your limits well before you use them in ritual and, I cannot emphasize this enough, have a friend to keep you under scrutiny incase something goes wrong and you need help.

If you are having the OTHER kind of must-be-of-age type of ritual, be sure your partner is well informed. Maybe have a dress rehearsal so you are both on the same page about mechanics and consent. Speed run through the general timing and motions, and talk about what each of you expect to get out of the ritual. Is it for bonding? Or are you using the energy to try to charge something? Is it for fertility? Are you both good to have ritualized sex (I know that seems like an obvious question, but you would be surprised by how many partners clam up about sexual things to try to not disappoint their partner). If you are a witch and your partner is not, be sure they know what to expect, and that they 100% want to do it even though it's not necessarily their practice and not just to be a people pleaser. If you havent done anything like this before either, tell them that, too. Honestly is 100% required here

And lastly, keep your cool. It's easy to get over excited or over anxious about this kind of thing, but honestly with a little prep time you have a high change of doing awesome. And even if you dont? That's okay too. Everyone makes mistakes, we all learn from those mistakes, and every single experience you acquire will level you up until you are the best at being you. Do what feels right, trust your gut, do some reading, and keep calm and witchy on.

#witchblr #ritual #ritual work #spell #spell work #witch tips #ritual prep #witch advice #chaos witch #eclectic paganism #wicca #diety work #diety ritual #witchcraft #chaos witchcraft #solitary witch #solitary witchcraft

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drabbles-of-writing · 4 years ago

Text

If Love is Pain Then We’re Smitten

This is part of my Beta AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was no secret that Luz Noceda and Amity Blight didn’t get along.

Ever since the human transferred to Hexside, mostly on accident, mind you, there’d been trouble.

Now, fighting in Hexside wasn’t out of the ordinary. It’s Hexside. Everyone is basically a feral animal with sentience.

Their fighting, however, was constant.

Verbal or physical, the two simply couldn’t be in the same room together and not raise the tension. At first it was treated like trying to walk with an egg floating in an overfilled glass of water. After all, Amity used to be part of Boscha’s group. That alone commanded respect.

But over time, it became more...tolerable.

It was a regular spectacle to see what disaster Luz would find herself in each day. Sometimes they were as big as stopping a lava monster from burning the whole school to the ground, and other times it was a simple spat with the resident demon, King.

It had become a common occurrence to Luz and Amity as well. They barely batted an eye at their own barking anymore.

And yet….something felt different about this fight.

Luz was unconsciously aware that she was being lifted by the front of her shirt. Her head hurt, her eye, good lord, her eye hurt. She registered Amity getting in her face, fangs bared, pupils slitted. The mane she called hair had come undone and framed her face in a wild, mangled manor. She had a bruise on her cheek, and bits of blood running down her face.

Luz was too tired to find the source of it. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but all her fire from before had died in the blink of an eye.

“Are you even listening?” Amity snapped, bringing the human back to reality. “You look like you just died.” She huffed.

“Maybe I did,” Luz mumbled, limp in the witch’s grip. “You don’t know. Bet I possessed my own corpse just to torture you.”

“No, I’ve seen that happen. You’d actually look better if that was the case.” She said, stepping back, but still holding her up by her shirt.

“Thanks,” Luz muttered, rolling her eyes and wincing at the pain in her left eye.

She took this moment to look over the witch again. She had scrapes all along her arms, and she could see a bit of blood soaking through her pant leg. There was a long cut on her forehead, not a deep one, but enough that blood was still faintly trickling around her eyes.

And, Luz noticed with a hint of satisfaction, she was favoring her left arm, holding her up with more force with her other hand.

“You look like hell,” Luz said, her gaze drifting back to her face.

“You’re no model yourself,” Amity huffed, curling her lip in a sneer, flashing a slightly bloody fang.

Luz narrowed her eyes. If she found a bite mark on herself, then there would be war.

“Just put me down you melodramatic witch.” Luz muttered.

Amity shrugged and released Luz’s shirt. The human yelped before hitting the pavement, flinching as she felt fresh scrapes on her arms. She glared up at the girl, who only gave her a smug look in response and began to walk off.

She winced mid-step, pulling up her right leg with a hiss. Luz raised a brow and lifted herself onto her hands, straining with the effort.

“You alright there, Mittens?” Luz taunted.

Amity whirled her head around, giving a low growl as her ears flicked back. She straightened up and glanced away, a faint flush at the tips of her ears.

“Don’t call me that,” Amity said lowly.

“Whatever,” Luz shrugged, beginning to push herself to her feet. “Come on, let's head closer to the seven-eleven.”

“What?” Amity blinked, looking back at Luz incredulously.

“You're a mess, I’m a mess, I’d rather neither of us went walking off in the middle of the night looking like we lost a fight with a gang of raccoons.” Luz said, cringing as she got to her feet.

Amity still looked unconvinced, crossing her arms. Luz hobbled past her, unbothered as she made her way out of the parking lot and towards the side of the 7-11, a few meters away from the door, but far enough away neither of them would scare off late-night customers. Unless they were cowards, of course.

“C’mon,” Luz mumbled, waving her hand for the witch to follow.

She fully expected the witch to blow her off with a jab, but to her surprise, she didn’t. She instead heard the sound of Amity shuffling after her, grumbling something inaudible.

Luz turned so her back was leaning against the wall and slid down, knees bent as she leaned her head back, shutting her eyes with a pained groan.

“Aw, someone had too much for one night?” Amity jeered, slumping down next to Luz with her right leg stretched out and the other bent, which she lay her arm on.

“Shut your bloody mouth,” Luz growled, though it was nowhere near the level of Amity’s.

“Do you usually become British when you're beat up?” Amity chuckled.

“I meant that literally,” Luz cracked open an eye. “You have blood on your teeth.”

Amity paused, clearly not expecting that. She opened her mouth and poked her tongue around at her teeth. She pulled back and shut her mouth with an appalled look after only a few moments.

“Ew, I do.” She agreed. “It better not be yours,” She warned.

“Oh, yeah, like I want a massive bite-mark on me.” Luz rolled her eyes. “You're worse than a rabid possum, you know that?”

“Says the one who hangs out with the weird owl janitor,” Amity huffed. “If anyone has rabies, it’s her.”

Luz opened her mouth to argue before slowly shutting it again.

She muttered something under her breath before beginning to dig through her jean jackets pockets. Amity watched her curiously for a few moments until she pulled out a healing glyph with a gleeful expression.

“You have one of those?” Amity asked as Luz sat on her knees, turned towards the witch.

“Obviously, I’m fighting you all the time.” Luz scoffed. “And, well, I get into a lot of fights by this parking lot.” She said with a shrug.

“You what--”

Luz leaned forward, reaching for Amity’s left shoulder. The witch cut herself off and pulled back, giving Luz a mildly concerned look. Luz met her gaze with her own tired stare and the witch eventually let up.

She mumbled something about her ‘wasting a glyph,’ but Luz paid it no mind. The witch pulled the hem of her shirt to the side, revealing a nasty mark right where her shoulder connected to her body. Luz reached out and placed the healing glyph on it before tapping it.

The glyph glowed brightly for a moment before steadily beginning to dull back to normal. Amity grit her teeth at first, but quickly relaxed with a sigh, her ears relaxing to an almost normal position.

“I know, right?” Luz grinned. “Feels like a high.”

“I’m not gonna ask why you know what a high feels like,” Amity said, giving Luz a warning glare.

“It’s best you don’t,” Luz agreed, sitting back. “Anyway, I need ten bucks.”

“What?” Amity stared at Luz.

“Ten bucks, for supplies.” Luz said, pointing behind her towards the 7-11 doors. “We both look awful, and that was the only healing glyph I had on me.”

“Wh--and you used it on this?” Amity gaped, gesturing to her shoulder with her free hand.

“Yeah, so now you owe me ten bucks, that I will also proceed to use on your broken face.” Luz said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Your rich, aren’t you? Make it even.”

“That...that wouldn’t be….” Amity sighed and shook her head. “You’re an idiot,” She muttered, digging in her pocket and pulling out her wallet.

“You had that on you the whole time?” Luz blinked. “I thought you would’ve, like, kept in your purse in your car.”

“I was too busy getting ready to curb-stomp your face.” Amity replied simply, withdrawing two fives and placing them in Luz’s outstretched hand with more force than necessary.

“How sweet of you,” Luz rolled her eyes before pulling herself to her feet with a wince. “Wait here.”

“Do I have a choice?” Amity muttered.

“Eh, I could probably call a taxi with this.” Luz said, shoving the money in her pocket and hobbling towards the door.

Amity frowned, confused for a moment as Luz opened the store door.

“Wait...did you walk here?”

Seven minutes had never felt so long before.

Amity impatiently drummed her fingers on the ground beside her, constantly glancing back at the door, even when there was no indication it had opened.

She rolled up her pant leg, exposing the nasty gash on her knee. She recoiled at the sight and decided to leave it be and hope Luz kept her word.

Despite it being the middle of the night, there was the occasional weirdo or group of people wandering about. Amity would turn her head away and hide her face with her hand every time someone walked by and stared at her, or the one group who went inside the 7-11.

They probably thought she was a junkie or some hustler who had a bad day, she thought bitterly. After all, who in their right mind would be sitting alone in the middle of the night looking like they had a tussle with a wild dog?

She heard the door to the store open and glanced up, immediately turning when she saw it was Luz.

In her hands were bandages, a roll of gauzes, and antiseptic wipes. She nodded to Amity before sitting beside her again. She didn’t say anything, only set down the medical supplies and withdrew a small pack of twizzlers.

“...did you seriously buy that with my money?” Amity finally broke the silence.

“There was some left over, and that employee just wanted me out of his store.” Luz shrugged, pulling out a twizzler. “Also, this one was already open, so it cost less.”

“That employee probably thought you were involved in a gang fight or something,” Amity scoffed. “And is that black licorice?”

“Too bottom-of-the-barrel for your refined taste buds?” Luz taunted, holding a twizzler in her mouth while shaking the package in front of Amity.

“Licorice is revolting, that’s common knowledge.” Amity sneered, backing away.

“Cowards, all of you.” Luz huffed, setting the packet aside and biting off a piece of the twizzler in her mouth.

“You’re nature's greatest mistake,” Amity curled her lip, disgusted.

“I know,” Luz said cheekily, pulling the antiseptic wipes into her lap and beginning to try and open it.

And then Amity watched Luz struggle to open the plastic around the wipes for a good minute. Luz’s hands couldn’t get a good grip or tear in the covering, either due to how tired she was or because her hands were a bit bloody from fighting. It was hard to tell.

It didn’t take long for her to grow impatient and she let out a small growl. Luz glanced up, giving her an annoyed glare in return.

“Look, this thing is difficult to open--”

Amity snatched the antiseptic wipes out of Luz’s hands, too tired and riled up to wait any longer. She sank her fangs into the plastic, easily piercing it. In one easy movement, she tore the packaging, and some of the cardboard, clean off.

Amity spat out the plastic and cardboard and lifted up the small box to check it over. She’d pierced a few of the wipes inside, but there was still plenty left. The hole wasn’t clean and a bit small, but it was open.

“There,” Amity said, turning and holding the box out to Luz. “I opened it.”

Luz stared at her for a few moments, speechless. Amity raised a brow, wondering if Luz somehow went into shock. For a moment, Amity almost swore she saw a redness on her cheeks before Luz quickly grabbed the box out of her hands.

“Told you it was difficult,” Luz mumbled, digging through the box and pulling out the wipes and opening those with much more ease.

Amity rolled her eyes and licked at her fangs, trying to get the taste of cardboard off them. Luz pointedly looked away from her face and got onto her knees, reaching for Amity’s scraped knee.

“This is gonna hurt, by the way.”

That was all the warning Amity had before Luz pressed the antiseptic wipe to her wound. Amity hissed and jerked back, her ears lowering and snapping her teeth close to Luz’s face, causing her to draw back.

“What the hell?” Amity snarled, pulling her knee closer.

“This isn’t like the glyphs you use,” Luz explained, minorly annoyed. “It’s going to hurt, but it will help.”

“What kind of backwards logic is that?” Amity demanded.

“The human kind. Now either hold still or get an infected knee.” Luz said firmly. “I’m already bleeding to death as it is.”

“Then just help yourself,” Amity muttered under her breath.

But she listened and stretched out her leg again. She tensed and bit back a hiss as Luz cleaned the wound.

She suspected the human cleaned a bit longer than necessary for a bit of revenge.

Once the wound was clean she unrolled the gauzes and ripped off a strip before wrapping it around the witch’s leg. Amity watched her every move like a hawk, eyes narrowed.

“Alright, now for the face.” Luz said, pulling back and withdrawing another wipe.

“What?” Amity felt her face, wincing as she pressed the bruise on her cheek. “Ow,”

“Yeah, hold still.” Luz said, sitting up on her knees and leaning forward, pressing the wipe to her forehead injury.

Amity flicked her ears down as Luz concentrated on cleaning her wound. Due to the proximity, she was stuck taking in Luz’s face, as much as it annoyed her to do so.

Luz had a black eye, and there was a scrape on her nose. Her beanie was lopsided, but stubbornly stayed on her head. Her hair was frazzled and knotted, and she wondered how much conditioner she had to use to keep her hair as straight as it usually was. Amity herself had given up on conditioner a long time ago.

Luz pulled back from cleaning her wound, leaving Amity subconsciously wondered why she didn’t feel any pain this time, and pulled out a large bandaid.

“Is that going to cover all of it?” Amity raised a brow. “And that’s a genuine question,” She added when she saw Luz give her a deadpan look. “Because in case you forgot, I can’t exactly see the damage.”

“Poor you, unable to see your wrecked face.” Luz sneered, rolling her eyes and leaning forward again to place the bandaid on. “It’ll cover most of it. You’ll live.”

Amity grumbled, crossing her arms as Luz tried to cover as much of the wound as possible.

Once again, Amity caught herself staring. She could see that Luz had cuts on the palms of her hands, and bruises that stretched passed the sleeves of her jacket where she couldn’t see. She noticed that Luz was sticking her tongue out while concentrating. The edge of Amity’s lips curved into a smile at the sight.

Luz glanced down, catching Amity’s gaze.

Amity jerked back and sharply turned her head away, her face heating up.

“I know, I look dashing in blood,” Luz taunted, sitting back with a cocky smirk. “Simply an enchanting sight.”

“I’m going to break your spine over my knee and toss you into a woodchipper.” Amity spat, pulling her lips back in a snarl.

“That’s fair,” Luz nodded, unphased as she got another antiseptic wipe. “Hey, how bad is my eye?” She asked, gesturing to her left eye. “Like, could I play it off that I smacked into a pole?”

Amity gave Luz a disbelieving look. Even in the low lighting from the store, she could tell that unless Luz could brush off she was incredibly clumsy, there’s no way someone would think she just ‘hit a pole weird.’ Her eye wasn’t swelling shut, but the entire skin around it was a dark, angry purplish black. There was even a bruise forming around the edge of her right eye where Amity had just missed hitting the eye itself.

“Yeah, no, you’d do better putting makeup on that.” Amity shook her head. “The fact you didn’t get any ice for that is already a little concerning, and that’s coming from me.”

“Store clerk wouldn’t let me steal any,” Luz shrugged, dabbing an antiseptic wipe on her nose scrap and wincing. “Guess it’s another day of concealer.” She grumbled.

“Do you even know how to properly apply concealer?” Amity asked as Luz pulled out a small bandaid.

“I just gotta find one that matches my skin tone and brush over it, don’t I?” Luz said, hovering the bandaid over her nose and realizing too late she had no idea how to place it on properly.

Amity sighed and took the bandage from Luz, slapping her hand away when she fumbled and tried to grab it back.

“No, you moron. It’s a whole process.” Amity said, reaching out and placing the bandaid over the scrape, smoothing it down.

“You gotta apply green concealer, then one that matches your skin tone, then you do the same to your other eye so it looks natural, and then you want setting powder. Plus mascara if you want to divert less attention to your eye.” Amity listed off, grabbing another antiseptic wipe and taking Luz’s hand, turning it over so she could start cleaning it.

Luz stared at her for a few moments. She seemed confused as she looked from her face to her hand that Amity was cleaning but eventually just gave a sheepish smile.

“I’m, uh, going to need to write that down.”

Amity groaned and glared at the girl. She pressed the wipe harder onto Luz’s hand and the girl winced and almost drew her hand back if it weren’t for Amity’s death-grip on her wrist.

“I have makeup in my purse, I can just apply it tomorrow before school.” She said, tossing the wipe aside and grabbing the gauzes. “Since you obviously have no idea how makeup works.”

“Gus is better at it than me, he was a theater kid.” Luz shrugged. “Well, I was also a theater kid, but he was a makeup theater kid. I was an acting theater kid.”

“That explains a lot,” Amity said simply, checking Luz’s palm to make sure the gauzes covered her scrapes before seizing her other hand.

“Oh please, I swear nearly everyone in this school was, or is, a theater kid.” Luz muttered.

“You’re not wrong.” Amity said, only half-paying attention. “The makeup isn’t going to look very good tomorrow, but that’s because of the swelling. And adding more makeup is going to make the healing process slower, so pick your battles.”

“Do you get in fights often?” Luz raised a brow. “Or are you sneaking out and helping other girls with their concealer when I’m not around?” She teased.

“Please keep in mind I’m the one holding your hand right now,” She growled, gripping her wrist tighter and glaring at her face.

There was a momentary silence between the two.

“That kinda--”

“You know what I meant.”

“Can’t believe you actually drove to a fight at seven-eleven,” Luz whistled, leaning against the front of the black car. “And I’m willing to bet this is an expensive car too, huh?”

“It’s just an old dodge charger,” Amity shrugged, opening the passenger side door. “Get in.”

Luz blanked for a moment. She processed Amity’s words before jerking her head up to look at the witch.

“Huh?”

Amity exhaled like this was testing her will and gestured to the inside of the car.

“You said you walked here, didn’t you? And even bandaged up, you still clearly got in a fight. I’m not letting you walk around at one AM looking like that.” She said impatiently.

“...you're going to willingly let me get into your car?” Luz said, pressing her hands together before flinching and remembering that was a bad idea. “And you're not trying to kidnap me?”

“I’m not asking again.”

“Just making sure,” Luz said, avoiding eye-contact as she walked over and scooted into the passenger seat.

Amity shut the door with a bit more force than necessary and walked around the car to the driver's seat. Luz took her time in looking around, checking out the interior of the car. She noticed an air freshener hanging over one of the air ducts. It was shaped like a staff from the Good Witch Azura series.

Luz leaned forward to sniff it and instantly recoiled. Partly because it had a disgusting blend of lavender and ash, and partly because Amity had gotten into the car.

“You read Azura books?” Luz asked as she turned to the girl.

Amity froze, stiff and still, both hands gripping the steering wheel. Luz scooted back slightly, preparing for a claw to come flying at her face.

Amity turned to glare at the human and pointed a finger, nails unsheathed into sharper claws and Luz instinctively raised her bandaged palms in innocence.

“You say anything about this and I will rip out your tongue and force-feed you your own eyes. Understand me?” She growled.

Luz nodded slowly and Amity pulled back, twisting her key in the ignition and starting up her car. Luz waited until they had left the parking lot and began driving before she drummed her hands on the armrest and casually tilted her head.

“So...which book’s your favorite?” She questioned. “Personally, I think book five was--”

“Shut your mouth before I do it for you,” Amity hissed. “But do that after you tell me your address.” She added right after.

“...ignoring the way you worded that first part,” Luz said, attempting to sound as indifferent as possible. “It’s just a few streets away from here. Do you have a GPS?”

“Punch it in,” Amity said, her voice sounding stained. She took one hand off the steering wheel and dug in a compartment between the two seats, pulling out a small black GPS.

Luz did so, casting a glance every now and again towards Amity, who had gotten a faint pink to her cheeks at her earlier threat. She had one elbow back on her seat, with the other hand on the steering wheel.

Luz sat back and let Amity continue the drive in near total silence. She pulled out another twizzler from the packet she’d taken and half-heartedly gnawed on one.

“Thanks,” She mumbled around the twizzler.

“Hm?” Amity hummed, glancing over for a moment before turning back to focusing on the GPS.

“For driving me,” Luz said, keeping her eyes on the window next to her. “Even after I messed up that pretty little face of yours.” She said with a hint of tease.

“Oh, so when I say something that could be taken the other way, it’s a big deal. But when you say it--”

“Shut up and drive,” Luz grumbled, slumping down in her seat and shoving the last of the twizzler in her mouth. “This is what I get for trying to be nice.”

Amity chuckled and shook her head. Luz pouted and glanced over at her. The witch was noticeably more relaxed than before, smiling ever so slightly.

Luz gave a small grin and pulled out another twizzler. She offered it to Amity, her grin growing as Amity gave the licorice twizzler the side-eye.

“I’m not eating that, Luz.” Amity growled. “Don’t taunt me while I’m driving.”

“Oh, so you can take a hit, but you can’t take licorice?” Luz taunted, still holding the twizzler by her face.

“What happened to Luz being thankful I spared her?” Amity grumbled.

“I was thankful because you were being nice, not because you spared me. Which, by the way, no you did not.” Luz huffed. “But both of those moments have ended because I still don’t like you.”

Amity growled and pressed her ears down. She sharply turned her head, and in the span of a few seconds, she snapped her jaws around two quarters of the twizzler, barely missing Luz’s fingers, and broke the candy cleanly.

And calmly, she went right back to driving.

Luz sat in shock for a moment, unmoving. She had the sight of Amity’s fangs in her mind for a few moments before quietly leaning back in her seat and looking over the small piece of licorice left in her hand.

She was having a lot of thoughts at the moment, and that was evident by the flush gathering in her face.

She was, however, distracted by the sound of Amity gagging.

The witch stuck out her tongue in disgust, revealing it was slightly forked at the end. Her face was scrunched up and she shuttered.

“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten,” She hissed, shaking her head.

Luz watched the sight for a moment before bursting out laughing. She tried to cover her mouth, but it didn’t do much. Amity glared over at her and looked ready to growl, but she didn’t. She only raked her gaze over Luz before deflating and rolling her eyes.

And then she slammed on the breaks.

Luz went flying forward, realizing too late she had neglected to put a seat belt on. She hit the dashboard and groaned at the impact. Amity, meanwhile, started laughing at her as Luz pulled herself up.

Luz grabbed the boxes of bandages she’d taken with her and chucked it at Amity’s head. The witch laughed harder, unbothered.

Luz scoffed and sat back, crossing her arms. Though she couldn’t help a smile herself, giving a giggle at the witches antics.

And for a brief moment, it was like they’d never fought at all.

“Alright, alright,” Amity wheezed, turning back to Luz. “Get outta my car you bruised idiot.”

“Huh?” Luz said, looking around and peering out the car window.

Sure enough, they had arrived at Luz’s house. Which made sense, why else would Amity stop? She had to get home. Why was she disappointed?

“Oh, yeah, right.” Luz nodded. “Er, thanks, again.”

“Don’t mention it. Ever. Because Boscha will never let me forget this.” Amity warned as Luz opened the car door and slipped out.

“Yeah, no, I’m not telling Boscha anything.” Luz agreed. “I’d rather swallow a tooth.”

“Pray that you do,” Amity taunted as Luz shut the door.

Amity rolled down her window and hung an arm outside of it as Luz stopped right next to her, shoving her antiseptic wipes, gauzes and packet of twizzlers into her pockets.

“Meet me outside the school tomorrow so I can fix your face,” Amity said. “If you're still awake by then.”

“I’m never fully awake,” Luz said simply. “My bags under my eyes are so deep that now they’ve just melted into my face.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Amity rolled her eyes. “See you later, Luz.”

Luz offered a smile in return and stepped back. Amity hesitated for a moment before pulling her arm back in and starting up the car once more.

Luz watched Amity leave, waiting until the old dodge charger was out of sight before she turned back to her house.

Her mother would leave for work before she got up, so she wasn’t worried about her seeing the injuries. She could probably get some makeup from Amity at the end of the day tomorrow, if she sucked up enough.

God, that was a weird thought. Actually getting help from Amity Blight.

Luz looked down at her bandaged hands as she walked to her house, turning them over like she was looking for flaws. She paused at the front door and raised her head, thinking.

Alright, maybe Amity wasn’t so bad.

But this absolutely, positively, did not mean she liked her.

Not in the slightest.

304 notes · View notes

beatlesdumpsterfire · 3 years ago

Text

For @pushmipulluridesagain's prompt:

The Beatles go to Target

Brian should have known better than to give the boys the day off, completely unsupervised. Even John, Paul, George, and Ringo were shocked. In fact, they were so shocked that they couldn’t think of a single thing to do to fully take advantage of Brian’s huge mistake.

So, they found themselves in the sitting room of George’s flat, staring around at each other with blank looks plastered across their faces. Finally, John was the one to break the silence with a suggestion:

“Why don’t we go to Target?”

It wasn’t the most exciting option out there, but it sure was something, and it was a lot better than sitting around like their wax figures at Madame Tussauds. None of the other boys had any better ideas to offer, so that was that. Before Brian could change his mind, they all piled into George’s car and sped off to their local Target.

“Are we looking for anything specific?” Paul asked the car. Ringo turned around from the passenger seat and grinned back at Paul.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s something specific we’re looking for, we’re bound to walk out with a cart full of things we didn’t even know we needed.”

“I once went to Target looking for a screwdriver and I came out with an inflatable lawn decoration,” George mused. “I don’t think I’ve even taken it out of the box though.”

“There’s something about Target, it just sucks you dry,” Paul thought aloud. He paused for a second and quickly turned to John, who was obviously on the verge of making a bad joke. “Don’t you dare say it,” Paul warned him.

John luckily listened, which saved him from a hefty slap from Paul, and instead shared some wisdom he had picked up from a TikTok he saw the other day.

“You know, I heard somewhere that you can steal a certain amount of stuff from Target and they won’t stop you. They keep track of what you take, but they’ll only pull the authorities in when you’ve surpassed a certain dollar amount of stolen goods. It’s so they can charge it as a serious felony, I think.”

“Huh,” Ringo thought aloud. “So I could steal just under that amount and waltz out of the store?”

“I doubt it’s that black and white,” Paul interjected. “If they catch you taking something, they’re bound to stop you, right?”

“Why don’t we test it, lads?” John grinned. Paul let out a groan; he should have seen where that conversation was going. He had been a fool to assume they were going to take an innocent trip to Target.

“I’m game,” George said from behind the steering wheel. “We were bound to do something stupid today, I’m glad we figured out what that was.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ringo chirped happily. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“You haven’t either, have you, Paul?” John teased Paul.

“I have too,” Paul murmured. He had pocketed a single bean from the grocery store when he was 5 and, while his mom made him return the bean to one of the employees working there, he still felt it counted.

John could see straight through Paul’s fib, but he was confident that his mate would participate, as much as he acted like he was against it. Knowing that they were all on board to rob a Target got John feeling especially energized: he couldn’t wait to kick capitalism in the shins.

“Let’s make a competition out of it, Lads,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “30 minutes on the clock, whoever comes out with the most impressive collection of items wins.”

“What’s the prize?” George asked.

“Bragging rights,” John decided. None of the other boys were especially happy about that but, considering they were going to rob a store, they were all already kind of winning something in a sense.

“And one last thing,” John added, “if you get caught, you’ll be disqualified.”

“That’s straight-forward enough to me,” George nodded as he turned into the Target parking lot. “We’ll meet back at the car once our 30 minutes is up then?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“You’re going to get your asses handed to you!” Ringo cackled, unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing into the store before anyone could even set a timer. Paul, John, and George all exchanged tired glances; they knew Ringo was about to do something stupid.

And, of course, they were right. Ringo tore into the Target, the bell dinging above his head as he scanned around the store, his heart beating up into his throat with a wild look in his eyes. He needed to prove to his mates that he could be the best thief out there, one that was bound to earn their utmost respect. Ringo hadn’t really listened to the rules all that much, but he felt that he got the overall gist of the competition: he just had to take the biggest and most impressive thing and not get caught. That was a piece of cake because he, Ringo Starr, was the Master of Deception.

Ringo sprinted for the electronics department, nearly taking out an older gentleman and a mannequin in the process. The mannequin slowly toppled over, flattening the older gentleman behind Ringo, giving him the most action he had received in well over 50 years.

“Ooh!” the older man squealed.

Ringo made it to the section with the really big televisions and felt his pupils dilate tenfold.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Sure, there were three Target employees on the floor nearby, but Ringo was the Master of Deception. He had this in the bag. He managed to slow his breathing down to a pace that didn’t make him look like a rabid animal, and sauntered to the biggest TV in the store. Ringo looked it up and down and then smiled. He was gonna win this thing so hard. He looked to the left, making direct eye contact with one of the employees, and then looked to the right, making direct eye contact with the other employee, and then turned back to the TV. And, in one big grunt, he dislodged the TV from the wall and proceeded to shove it down his pants.

Both employees probably would have made more of an effort to stop him if they hadn’t been so thrown off guard by the fact that he had just put an 80 inch TV down his rear. It was a mystery how he was able to fit that screen in there, but somehow he did it.

Well, Ringo was the Master of Deception after all, I guess he was just doing what he did best.

While the TV was semi-concealed, the latter half of it stuck out of the seat of Ringo’s pants and rose well-above his head, so there was no denying what he was doing. Ringo had grossly miscalculated how heavy the TV was going to be; he was obviously struggling as he attempted to shuffle his way to the front doors. The two employees who had just witnessed this entire shit show exchanged an uncertain glance and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t paid enough to deal with shit like that. Let the weirdo shove a TV down his pants if he wanted to.

Somehow, by some miracle, Ringo managed to make it to the front doors without being stopped (although he did attract a lot of strange looks). It was only when the metal detectors started to blare through the store that Ringo was surrounded by seven employees, two of which body slammed him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the TV was removed from his pants and Ringo was sitting against the Starbucks counter by the front door with his arms shackled behind his back, moping not only because he had been eliminated from the competition and arrested, but also because he could no longer confidently say that he was the Master of Deception.

After Ringo powered into the store, Paul, George, and John synced their watches and agreed to meet back in the parking lot to determine the winner (they already knew that Ringo was going to be disqualified, it was only a matter of time before they found out exactly what he had done to eliminate himself).

George was the second to enter the store behind Ringo. As if he was going on any old Target run, George casually strolled through the front doors and made his way directly to the food section. The second John had initially mentioned theft, George’s stomach growled since it had officially been 20 minutes since his last meal. From that second onwards, George could only think about one thing and one thing only: filling the apparent goddamn void in his stomach.

So, in that food aisle, George went to town, carefully packing his shopping cart to the brim with crackers, cookies, sandwich-making materials, and lots and lots of candy. Satisfied with his load, he retreated to the back of the store where he very quickly found the employee break room and settled there, seated eagerly in front of his stuffed cart. A few employees filed in and out of the room as George worked away at his feast, but none of them bothered to stop him because they could care less. This was just an average day at Target: some guy had shoved a TV down his pants a few minutes ago, so George’s spectacle wasn’t even the worst thing they’d seen all day.

In ten minutes, George had consumed well over 50,000 calories and patted his extended stomach with content before letting out a belch that rattled the whole establishment for well-over 10 seconds.

Across the store in the women’s lingerie section, Paul snapped his head up from a rack of nice bras and scanned around in a panic. When he realized that the shaking wasn’t coming from an angry guard storming up to him, Paul’s shoulders relaxed and he returned back to sifting through the silk fabric, trying to find the flashiest bra available.

George collected all of his empty packages and started to shove them into a plastic Target bag that had been discarded in the breakroom so he had evidence of just how many things he had stolen that were now sitting in the bottom of his stomach. But, George wasn’t going to stop there; as impressive as his feat was, he knew that he was up against some tough competition (aka John, Paul didn’t count), so he really had to step up his game.

As he scanned around the store trying to find something good to snag, it occurred to George that he was wearing a red shirt and a pair of khakis (he was long overdue to do his laundry). He was basically an employee at Target, so George knew that he really could take things the extra mile. And oh boy, did he. He approached a cash register where there was an apron and an employee’s scanner sitting loosely around and tugged the apron over his head, adding the scanner to one of his front pockets. To be an incredibly huge nuisance, George went out of his way to unscrew the credit card reader (with his Target screwdriver, of course) and packed that into his apron as well. He checked his phone and, when he saw he had two minutes to spare, he decided that he had had his fun, and returned to the parking lot.

For Paul, when he first entered the store, he was a nervous wreck. Since the bean incident, he had vowed to never do a wrong thing ever again in his life. But, deep down, he knew that he would much rather become a criminal than let down his mates. He especially didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on John’s face if he came back empty-handed; that just wasn’t acceptable.

So, he decided to go the conservative route and start off small. After sneaking a pack of Trident Layers into his coat pocket without so much as a blink of an eye from those in the vicinity, Paul felt his heart rate slow. It was okay, this was fine, he totally had this. So, from there, Paul started to get more of a feel for the sticky fingers, sliding a pack of soap up his sleeve and a daily planner down his shirt. Now he was really feeling the groove of things, so he boldly made his way to the gift card section and grabbed a $20 Applebee's gift card. He was really going wild now. He was yet to face any consequences for his actions, so he booked it to the best part of Target: the electronic section, where Ringo had just been fucking shit up five minutes prior. Attempting to keep all of his stolen goods concealed, Paul strolled up and down the aisles, trying to decide which items on display were the best to grab (aka what would impress John the most). After checking to see if the coast was clear (which it was, since all the staff in the area were busy dealing with Ringo in the front of the store), Paul slid a Nintendo Switch inside his coat and hustled away from the crime scene, giggling to himself.

Now he was on a high. He was bound to win the competition with his impressive level of skill; the rest of the boys had probably already been caught because they were nowhere near as sneaky as him. As Paul hustled past the home goods aisle, he caught a glimpse of a Rolling Stones poster and turned back around with a smug look. The poster immediately went down his pants, where it belonged, so Mick’s face was pressed up against some stuff I’m not going to list out here. To top off the successful day, Paul made his way to the lingerie section to pick out an especially nice bra to give to John as a joke, to really rub in his victory. With the exception of the quick period of shaking that nearly made Paul crap himself, he was poised with a confidence he had never felt before, like he was immortal. Paul crept his way out a side door and returned to George’s car with his head held high and his pockets completely lined with goods, making it to George and John with three seconds to spare.

John knew exactly what he was doing from the get-go. He knew that his mates would all fall for a friendly competition and get so consumed by it that John could do his dirty work undetected. He knew that Ringo was bound to create a distraction big enough for him to do what he set out to do. He wasn’t sure if Paul and George would get caught too but, if they did, that would just be an additional bonus. After watching George and Paul hurry through the front doors, John stomped out his used cigarette on the pavement and ambled in behind them.

“Hey, Ringo,” he calmly greeted his mate as he made it through the front doors, where Ringo was still handcuffed and swarmed by employees and police officers.

“Hi John,” Ringo attempted to wave back, failing miserably. With a satisfied smirk, John moved to the front registers and, one by one, popped them open with a screwdriver that he himself had stolen from Target just the previous week. You’d think that alarms would have gone off, or someone would have noticed, but no, John was the true Master of Deception. He opened his coat to reveal a large, holographic fanny pack (also stolen) and started to fill it with the 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s, and 100s in each cash register. In under a minute, he had emptied out every register in the store, right under the cops’ noses. It was practically a miracle.

While George and Paul were still trying to make their way around the perimeter of the store, finding the best things to take, John was out the front doors in under three minutes, his fanny pack stuffed to the brim with cash just like George’s stomach was about to be with food.

“Fools,” John couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he lit a new cigarette and took out a long, satisfied drag. And, with that, he let himself back into George’s car and reclined backwards in the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He kept an eye out for any commotion if someone caught on to his crime, but the store was incredibly peaceful and still, like a lake on a cool summer’s morning. John found that to be oddly beautiful, so much so that he knew he could write a decent song about it, called “Hey Target I Just Robbed You Blind, Suck It”.

After what felt like ages of waiting, George finally emerged from the store and, not too shortly afterwards, Paul trailed out after him.

“Did you see they arrested Ringo?” Paul asked as he plopped in the back seat, his pockets swishing this way and that and a loud, papery crunching noise coming from his pants.

“I was able to get in a quick word with him,” George told Paul. “Turns out he tried to steal the biggest TV in the store by hiding it in his pants.”

“Classic Ringo,” Paul rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” he turned to John. “Nervous to lose?”

“You wish,” John snapped back to life, reclaiming his role as the leader of the competition. “Well, let’s go then, boys, shall we? Show off what you were able to grab.”

George was the first to go, and Paul and John’s eyes widened as he emptied out the opened food packages from his stolen bag. He had enough in there to fill half a trash dump.

“I ate all of that in under 10 minutes,” George proudly shared, before letting out another loud burp. “And, I took this.” George untied his apron and threw it in the pile, adding along the scanner and the credit card reader. “They thought I was an employee,” George couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at his red shirt and khakis.

“What are you gonna do with a credit card reader?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like the stupidest thing George could have taken. Well, actually a toilet plunger from the bathroom would have been stupider, but Paul had come to that conclusion earlier after taking the toilet plunger from the men’s room and talking himself into putting it back.

“Dunno,” George shrugged. “It seemed like it would be hard to take, so I took it.”

“That’s admirable,” John admitted, impressed with his younger mate. “Alright Paul, show us your booty.”

Paul couldn’t help but grin in anticipated excitement at his seemingly inevitable victory as he first retrieved the pack of gum and soap, followed by the daily planner and $20 Applebee’s gift card.

“Hold up,” John stopped him. “You’re disqualified.”

“Disqualified?” Paul nearly shouted in shock. “Why?”

John pointed at the Applebee’s gift card.

“That’s a foul right there. No one in their right mind would steal an Applebee’s gift card and consider themselves a winner. That just spoiled whatever else you took, I don’t even want to see it.”

“But I took a Nintendo Switch!” Paul tried to protest, reaching into his coat to grab it.

“I don’t care,” John held his ground, “you’re disqualified.” George watched onwards in excitement; he loved it when he did better than Paul.

“Now how’s that fair?” Paul protested. “We’re all judges here, your word isn’t above ours!”

“It is when I already know I’ve won,” John retorted. Before Paul could fight against this, John unzipped his jacket, displaying his fanny pack. Both Paul and George broke into fits of laughter.

“You can’t be serious, John,” George howled, “You think you won with that?”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Paul added in, relief washing over him that John might have just been giving him a hard time. That theory was quickly abandoned, however, when John, sporting the strongest poker face ever seen in the history of mankind, unzipped the fanny pack, revealing the stacks upon stacks of cash inside.

“I counted it all while you were in there wasting your time,” he explained to George and Paul’s gaping faces. “It’s near $20,000.” George recoiled in shock.

“John,” Paul’s voice was shaking now, “I don’t think that was such a great idea…”

“They haven’t caught me though, have they?” John tested Paul with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the store.

“But I don’t think you should be sitting in their parking lot with the $20,000 you just stole, John,” George told him, trying to keep his cool.

“I’m not worried about it,” John waved George off. “Ringo’s got them all busy. Meanwhile I’m gonna buy me a new car to celebrate.”

“John,” Paul deadpanned, “you already own three cars. And you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“You really do need to consider other ways to live lavishly,” George agreed.

“What matters is that I’m $20,000 richer and you’re not,” John snapped back at them, growing frustrated that they weren’t as in awe of his achievement as he had hoped.

Right as Paul was about to suggest that John go back inside and return the money before they got into any serious trouble, Ringo knocked on George’s window, accompanied by two cops, making them all jump. After glancing back at John to make sure his money was hidden, George rolled down the window.

“They’re taking me to the sin bin,” Ringo explained, nodding at the two cops who were holding him in a deathlock. “Apparently putting a TV down your pants is considered a crime.”

“No kidding,” Paul told him.

“My bail is supposed to be posted at about $20,000,” Ringo continued, ignoring Paul. “Can you help set old Ringo free?”

Paul and George slowly turned to face John, who was scowling downwards.

“Yes,” George answered for him, “in fact, I think we’ve got $20,000 we can spare.”

Ringo smiled.

#I wrote a novel with this one #sorry #beatles ask #beatles fanfic #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #target #ringo really tried his best

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grittedgeorgiana · 3 years ago

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[ emmy rossum & she/her & cisfemale ] : my oh my, is that GEORGIANA "GEORGIE" PEABODY in bon temps ? what the hell are they up to hanging around MERLOTTE'S BAR AND GRILL listening to RUNNING UP THAT HILL by MEG MYERS when they should be doing whatever a BARTENDER does ? between you and i, the 33 year old MEDIUM is avoided for acting STANDOFFISH, but whenever they let their RESILIENT side shine through people flock to them. i guess they're in town because SHE WAS BORN AND RAISED THERE. explains some of it, though i can't help but wonder if there's more to a HANDS CLASPED OVER EARS and SPANISH MOSS SWAYING FROM SPRAWLING OAK LIMBS story. ─── abbie, 27, est, she/her.

hi everyone! i’m abbie and this is my oc, georgiana peabody. i’d love to plot and make connections so if you’re interested in that, like this post! anyways, here’s a bit more about georgie!

tw beneath the cut : murder and domestic violence

georgie is a native of bon temps. her family has lived there for several generations.

she grew up in a little shack, not far from the bayou. she loved it. she loved the sticky, wet air. she loved the occasional breeze that would roll in from those murky, gator infested waters. she loved watching the spanish moss in the trees sway back and forth. she loved walking around barefoot, letting her feet get right nasty from mud and dirt and grass.

what she missed most about her childhood was her mother, martha. martha was a kind and beautiful woman. georgie fondly remembers weekend morning on the porch swing with martha running her fingers through the girl’s wild dark hair.

it wasn’t totally uncommon around places like bon temps to hear of men beating their wives. martha and georgiana’s father, gary, were no exception. gary would get to drinking and something would set him off and, boy, it was like watching a rabid animal. and georgiana knew he was one that needed to be put down.

the peabody family never did have a lot of money but even still, georgiana knew she’d’ve been happy if it weren’t for her father. she was an average student - good enough, at least. and she’d lay in bed and imagine if her parents loved each other. she’d have little siblings to play with and laugh with.

georgie’s mama had been sporting more and more bruises and busted lips as her daddy drank more and more. georgie hated getting off the school bus.

but one day she got off and her house was all surrounded by yellow tape and cars with lights on top flashing red, white, and blue. they would’ve been pretty if they didn’t mean something so ugly.

georgiana fought hard to get into that little shack. she could see where something had busted through one of the front windows and, as she looked hard, she saw a pair of feet laying in the front doorway. for a ten-year-old, scrawny girl, it took two police officers to pull her into a car.

the officer took her to her granny’s and that’s where she finished growing up.

not long after her mother’s murder, georgiana began having vivid dreams about martha. at first, she’d just dream of being held by her mother again. then it slowly turned to conversation until, one day, the conversation didn’t end when she awoke.

it was torment at first - to hear the voice of her mama at any given moment. but over the years she began honing her skill. it’s easier to control for the most part (depending on the spirit) and she hears more than just her mother.

georgiana has never left the state of louisiana and has never left bon temps.

she now occupies her parents’ old house on the bayou - it was the only thing her parents had to give her upon their passing.

she’s worked at merlotte’s since she was in high school. ( previous owners before sam had taken over)

was previously married (leaving this open because i’ll make her ex a wc)

has a bloodhound named charlie

wanted connections:

any extended family

childhood friends (and best friend)

merlotte’s regulars

ex-husband (this could be amicable or not!)

any others, i’m a whore for plots and connections

@extramacabre

#macabreintro #intro : georgiana #tw domestic violence #tw murder

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kijobaby · 3 years ago

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The Unfortunate Happenings of Kijo Hyde: 2

Series: Fullmetal Alchemist ( Brotherhood ) Ship: If you squint, you can predict which ships are coming. Plot: Kijo is a bit anxious on how to break the news to her roommate that a fictitious sociopath is living under their roof now, but the conversation turns out to be easier than expected. Word count: 1,547 Warning: None

“ Kijo….”

“ Earth to Kijo….”

“ KIJO!”

Kijo shot back, dropping the cup she’d been holding under the tap. Glass and beer shot all over the floor and she cursed herself, pressing herself into the wall. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she came back to reality and her eyes fleeted between her coworker and the customer who had been awaiting their beer, both shooting her perturbed expressions. Kijo waved them off, dipping down to start picking the glass up,

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

Her coworker ushered the customer off with a promise that she would bring their beer to their table, waiting for a moment as they left. Then, she turned her eyes on the fumbling, panicking girl crouched down beside her. She stooped down to join Kijo,

“ Girl, are you okay? You practically emptied an entire keg out. ”

“ I didn’t sleep very well last night s’all. Don��t worry, I’m fine – ”

“ Kijo, your finger!”

In her hurry, Kijo had failed to notice the glass that cut her finger. She cursed to herself when she spotted the blood on the floor and pulled her hand back, gripping it with her other one.

“Ugh, damn it, now I gotta go grab the bleach--”

Katelyn offered her a sympathetic frown, placing a hand on her shoulder,

“ Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go get the first aid kit? I’ve got this.”

Bless your heart, Katelyn, Kijo thought to herself as she stood. She slipped between the double doors to the employee area in the back and, only when she was sure she was alone, groaned. Her forehead met the wall and she stood like that for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, her finger remaining gripped in her hand.

She wasn’t lying when she said she hadn’t slept well. Harboring a fictional sociopath was understandably stressful, not to mention, she had to sneak them around Kenna. She wasn’t ready to unpack that suitcase just yet.

Luckily I’m off before her today, Kijo thought as she tilted her head, staring up towards the analog clock that hung above the double swinging doors, I can think of an appropriate way to drop this bomb on her before she gets home.

Kijo knew it would probably be… Okay? Something told her Kenna wouldn’t necessarily be shocked to discover the fictional characters they spent years talking about weren’t so fictional after all. It was primarily the fact that this was Envy that Kijo had the unfortunate luck of being stuck with. Rabid, feral Envy who would snap someones neck for looking at them the wrong way. “ I started a mass genocide and war” Envy. “I laughed about shooting a child in the face” Envy. “I desperately need therapy” Envy. That one.

Katelyn poked her head between the two doors, her eyes filled with concern as she stared at Kijo.

“Ray said you could go home if you want,” she tossed a paper bag onto the floor, broken glass clinking from inside of it. “Labor’s high, and--”

The raven haired girl wasn’t even allowed to finish her sentence before Kijo was sliding past her, quickly clocking out. Within a blink, she was out there door, power walking to her car as quickly as she could.

Not a moment too soon, as she’d just realized she’d left Envy completely unsupervised with her two cats, her heart now bouncing wildly in her stomach as she hurried home.

–

Kijo almost kicked the door down by the time she got home. Her mind was going wild with what she was afraid to find – were Loki and Wednesday okay? Envy wasn’t so crazy that they’d hurt a couple of harmless animals, right? She wouldn’t put it past them to flex a power move like that, but she was relieved when all she found was an empty, quiet living room.

…. Too quiet.

Kijo frowned. The snacks she’d offered Envy lay open and bare on the coffee table, but the T.V. was no longer playing the show she’d put on for them. She glanced into the kitchen but found no one inside – and she could see the bathroom door wide open, too. Kijo swallowed.

They left, she thought. She shrugged her coat off, dropping it on the couch as she stood solemnly for a moment. Did I just unleash Envy on the world? If they kill someone, is it going to be my fault? Would I be an accomplice by association?!

Kijo drug her feet towards her room, her forehead creased with worry as her mind went wild. She could just see Envy transforming into her to go commit heinous crimes, and it would all come falling back on her. Maybe they’d discovered that she lied, that she had absolutely no idea how to get them back to Amestris. For all she knew, she’d just woken a sleeping giant.

Her thoughts were cut short when she came into her bedroom and, to her surprise, she found Envy laying in her bed. Both Loki and Wednesday were laying on them, sound asleep. They were flipping through a book, evident boredom on their face. Kijo’s jaw dropped.

“ What’s that look for?” Envy didn’t bother to look up from the book, although they did smirk. “Didn’t expect to find me still here, did you? By the way, your cats like me more than they like you.”

Kijo couldn’t find the words. She was just relieved that Envy hadn’t run off. She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, leaning against it as she stared at the scene in front of her. It was a little strange, admittedly; Envy had been rather well behaved since she’d brought them home. Of course, that didn’t mean they were incapable of wreaking havoc on modern society, but Kijo felt a burden lift off her shoulders when she realized they were probably going to continue being on somewhat good behavior.

“I didn’t expect you to be a cat lover,” Kijo mumbled as she turned to her closet, kicking her shoes off into it. Envy clicked their tongue,

“Mutts are too noisy and sloppy.”

There was an awkward silence as Kijo fixed her stare on them. It was still surreal, seeing them in the flesh. It was especially odd to hear them share small details about themselves that weren’t relevant to the show – in a way, it made the situation more real. Envy glanced up at them, lowering their gaze down before returning it back to her eyes.

“Looks like you cut your hand.”

Oh, right. Kijo had been so wrapped up in leaving her job that she hadn’t bothered to wrap her cut up. It wasn’t too bad, but it hadn’t stopped bleeding since she cut it. She wrapped her good hand back around it and shrugged,

“Broken glass from work. No big deal.”

“Oh, right, you have a job, don’t you?” Envy sat up now, letting Wednesday and Loki fall off them. Kijo bit her tongue to keep from chastising them, that the rule of that house was you didn’t move a sleeping cat. Envy continued, “ next time, take me with.”

“ Not a chance.”

Immediately, Envy’s face contorted with rage. Kijo was reminded of how toddlers reacted when told no.

“Why the Hell not?! It’s boring here. I wanna see where you work.”

“No.”

Envy gritted their teeth and looked away, obviously frustrated. Perhaps Kijo would’ve found it endearing in the show, but in person, it made her want to smack them upside the head. She observed her still bleeding hand and turned to go fetch a gauze, speaking over her shoulder,

“Besides, it’s really not that entertaining. All we do is play football and serve beer. You wouldn’t like it.”

Envy began retorting with some smart comment but Kijo’s attention quickly whipped towards the front of her apartment. She was certain she heard something jingling at the front door.

“-- I’ll just wind up eating your books then--”

Kijo picked a discarded pillow off the floor and whacked Envy with it, shushing them. She could feel herself sweating; it wasn’t even 2:30, it was too early for Kenna to be home. She hadn’t even thought of an explanation for Envy yet, but Kijo realized she was just going to have to go for it.

“ Friend?”

Kenna sounded distraught. Immediately, Kijo stuck her finger over her lips in Envy’s direction before poking her head out of the doorway,

“Yeah?”

“Uh, would you come here? I… I have something I need to show you.”

“ Haha, how funny, because I ALSO have something I need to show you.”

Kijo began walking down the hallway towards the living room and she could feel her heart thumping in her chest. The entrance was blocked off by the dining room wall, so she could just barely see Kenna moving around to shrug her coat off. But before Kijo could get a word out, Kenna stepped around the wall, and Kijo stared at the person who stood behind her.

Envy came walking up behind her,

“ You know what, I’m tired of waiting. You’re just dragging your feet by not introducing us. I’m a house guest, I find that quite rude.”

Kenna’s eyes widened as she looked behind Kijo, and the two girls mirrored each others expressions. The silence was palpable and thick, you could practically cut it with a knife. Envy broke the silence, smirking,

“ Well, well, well, it’s been awhile, Kimblee.”

#-drags Kenna into my problems-#:))))#kijos writing

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hairycooterlips69 · 4 years ago

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Service with a Smile

Howdy y’all, I had a wild hair up my ass to write a fanfic. It’s my first one, be gentle 😅 I’m obsessed with Hawks so I hope I do him proud. Also I was gonna name it Kentucky Fried Fuckin but i don’t wanna be ganked by the Colonel so... Takami Keigo x Fem!Reader

word count : 4k

[ (nsfw 18+) ]

Warnings: edging, fingering, soft dom/sub, oral sex, nipple play, anal play, choking, unprotected sex

yuhh, get into it~

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Tonight’s shift couldn’t get any worse.

As you glance at your watch, you internally groan after realizing that you had been on your feet for the last 8 hours stuck behind a cash register. Between some brat spilling juice not once, but twice, on the floor you mopped, a woman berating you for not having any more barbeque sauce, and your closing partner quitting the night before, you were at your wit’s end. Working at a fried chicken shop wasn’t the most glamourous place of employment, but it paid the bills and your quirk did come in handy. Your empathic quirk allowed you to ease the negative emotions of others with the cost of others’ emotions somewhat rubbing off on you. While customers left satisfied and in good spirits, most nights you were left feeling exhausted and impatient. Well at least there’s only 5 minutes until close, you contemplate, mentally preparing yourself to clean and lock up the store.

Lost in thoughts, you hear a soft jingling and the thudding of boots against the tiled floor. “Heyo~, are you guys still open?” The first thing you notice about this customer is his ruby-red wings. Upon further inspection, you see that he is wearing a black body suit, beige pants, and a fur-trimmed coat accessorized with protective glasses and headgear, along with some pompous, feathery hairstyle. You felt as if this person was familiar. I mean, how could you not recognize a guy with massive birdlike appendages? You must have seen him somewhere, maybe around the city or at a bar. Or maybe you’ve seen him at the park, or maybe at the –

“Uh, hello. Earth to Y/N. Sorry for coming in so late, but I’ve been patrolling the area tonight and it seemed like this place was still open. I get pretty hungry around this time. Will you be able to serve me?” You snap back to reality, your cheeks tinged in embarrassment. “How do you know my name? D-do I know you?” you stammer. “Well, I read your nametag. But if you want to get to know me, you most certainly can, kid.” he quipped cheekily. What an ass. Your embarrassment quickly turned into annoyance, but you swallowed your pride and politely responded “yes sir, we are still open. How can I help you?” “Sir? I like that. Well, you can start me off with a four-piece meal and a soda, and after I’m done eating you can help me by giving me your number.” You audibly gasp, astounded at the audacity of this honey-haired jerk. Without a word, you quickly turned on your heels to put together the combo and get away from this man.

He must have noticed how upset you were as you placed his food on the counter rather abruptly. His expression softened from a cocky grin to a repentant half-smile. “I apologize if I’ve offended you. It’s just that I get pretty bored protecting the city and lurking on top of buildings. It’s nice to have some human contact, even if it’s teasing the cutie working at a fried chicken shop.” If you weren’t already flustered before, your face blushed crimson red yet again. Without the arrogance, you notice that this stranger was cherubically handsome, donning bushy blonde eyebrows, golden, catlike eyes, and the beginnings of scruffy facial hair. He must have been around your age or maybe a couple years older. You could tell that he was in almost, if not completely, perfect physical shape by the way his body suit hugged his chest. You hated to admit it, but his flirting was actually coaxing you out of your previously terrible mood. You manually willed yourself to reply, retorting “yeah, well don’t vigilantes like you have anything better to do than harassing a stranger while at work?” “Ouch, kid. A vigilante? Try number-two Pro Hero. I guess that’s what I get for coming in so late and giving you a tough time. I go by Hawks, but the name is Takami Keigo. But, I prefer if you call me yours for the evening.” At this point you couldn’t help but laugh at his boldness. After catching your breath, you responded “Alright Big Bird, enjoy your meal. Just please don’t leave too much of a mess, I already have to wait for you to finish so I can clean up and get the hell out of here.” For a split second, you saw his face twitch in an unreadable manner before his switching back to seasoned professionality. “Ah, of course. I won’t be too long. Thank you again y/n for the food. I’m sure it will be delicious.”

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat down, wings folding flat to his back as he prepared to dig in. You watched him as he removed his gloves, finger by finger. You couldn’t help but notice how long and graceful they were. Carefully, he teared apart slivers of each piece of chicken before bringing the greasy bits to his mouth. As he prepared his food, he would often glance up at you only to avoid your eyes and look back down at his food. What was with those looks he keeps giving me? It was almost like I angered him, or got offended by what I said, you mused to yourself. I’ll just activate my quirk. That way if he’s pissed, I can smooth things over. I don’t need to be bitched at by the manager again. With slight concentration, you activated your quirk. Suddenly you could feel what he felt – hunger. Besides this, there was another feeling. Similar to hunger, combined with a dull, growing ache. It almost felt like – yearning? Or something more? Once realizing the feeling, you quickly ducked your head. This bastard was aroused! You felt conflicted. He must be feeling confused by what I said to him, but also… I think he enjoyed it? You begin to feel a warming sensation in your midsection. Damnit, I think he is aroused. I’m starting to feel it too. Why would a Pro Hero be interested in someone who’s been covered in grease and sweat all day? You start to feel a little self-conscious at this point. There was no way that he couldn’t smell all the herbs and spices permeating off your overworked body. I smell like the deep fryer and I’m starting to thirst over some big-shot hero. I need to distract myself. “Hey, Hawks? If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna start cleaning up a bit.”

Hawks barely glanced at you as he responded “sure kid, do what you need to do. Don’t stop on my account.” You grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the tables with practiced ease. You closed on most nights and were able to get the store tidied up within 30 minutes or so. This night was different though, and you were somewhat nervous doing your nightly tasks as Hawks observed your work. When your back was turned, you could still sense eyes on you along with the steadily growing ache emitting from the Pro Hero and your own growing desire welling from within your body. Shit, the fact that he’s turned on right now is insane. I guess it is a compliment, he’s hot as hell. I actually kind of like it, you admitted to yourself. This realization combined with your quirk stirred up your own desire of being touched, and the growing warmth of arousal spread through your body like a slow burn. The more you attempted to distract yourself by sweeping the floor and wiping down tables, the deeper this yearning grew. Your watch indicated that it was definitely past the time you normally locked up and left. Fuck, I’m super turned on. What’s with him? And what’s up with me? You decide that you would quash this feeling right then and there. “Hey Hawks, are you okay? Cuz it’s getting late and I-“

As you turned around, you saw the Pro Hero had been standing a few feet behind you, wings fluttering rhythmically to the beat of his pulse. “You know, no one’s ever insulted me like that before and yeah, kid, it was cute, but it was also incredibly rude.” Before you could react, Hawks reached up and grazed the left side of your face with his right hand. “Now, how are you going to make it up to me?”

“I, uh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just-“

“Just what?”

“I can feel you. I mean, I can feel what you feel, that’s my quirk and obviously you didn’t know that but I’m sensing that you’re-“

“You can sense how I feel, at this moment? Tell me, kid. Let’s see how accurate that quirk of yours is.”

“Well, um… earlier after I called you Big Bird and I got a vibe that you were annoyed but also intrigued? Also, uh – when you were eating and I was cleaning up, I kind of got the feeling that you were interested… in that way.”

“’That way?’ And what way would that be?”

You could tell that Hawks took pleasure in watching you squirm and shade brighter than his pinions. “That way. You know, an… intimate sort of feeling.”

You flinched, expecting Hawks to jerk his hand away from you and walk off in disgust. Instead, a sly, borderline wicked grin began to spread across his face. “Now that’s an impressive quirk. What if I told you that you were correct in that I am turned on by you? In fact, the more I watch you, the more I want to touch every single part of your body and own that delicious ass of yours.” He stepped closer, inches away from you, and began to trail his hand from your cheek down to the nape of your neck. You barely registered Hawks’ wings spreading out and almost immersing the two of you. “You can feel what I feel, right? So that can only mean that you want me almost as badly as I want you. If you let me, I’ll be more than happy to satisfy us both.” Hawks must have misread the look of disbelief slapped across your face. He backtracked, “Was that too far, kid?”

“N-no. Keep going. I want this.”

You had barely finished your sentence when the pro hero lunged forward, pushing his lips against your own with the urgency of a rabid animal. You quickly returned his kiss with equal hunger, pressing back against the soft, inviting landscape of his mouth. Lip-locked and frenzied, you felt him slowly run his hands down the side of your body and onto your hips, grasping them so intensely you felt his nails dig into your skin sending small shocks of pleasure directly to your core. You unconsciously leaned your hips toward, your body responding to the sensation building within your intimacy. You felt the pressure of Hawks’ reciprocating excitement against your leg as he moaned at the growing constraint between his manhood and his uniform.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re up for this? Because I can’t hold back much longer. I would cut my wings off just to flip you onto that counter and ram the shit out of you until you beg me to stop making you cum.”

“Hawks-“

“Call me Keigo, fuck. Call me Keigo, I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs.”

“Keigo, shut the hell up and do what you said. Please just fuck me already.”

He practically flung you across the store, wrapping you up in a tight, muscular embrace with his vibrant, elongated wings beating erratically. Hawks placed you on the counter rather gently, attaching himself to your mouth again. You could feel his tongue softly graze your bottom lip in an attempt to explore you. Ever so slightly, your lips parted to meet his tongue in a battle for dominance. Hawks eventually overpowered you, and you could slightly taste the remnants of his meal as he ran his tongue vertically against the sinew of your cheeks. While Hawks commanded your mouth, you used your knee to tease and stimulate his aching member, pre-cum threatening to bleed through his pants. “Hrrnh, y/n. My cock is practically begging for you,” he groaned. You responded, “for someone who wants to fuck me senseless, you sure are taking your sweet ass time.”

Charged by your smart remark, he pulled away from your lips to focus on his next mission: undressing you before you could even open your mouth to land some other sarcastic comment. With surprising dexterity, he peeled off your shirt and pants while you worked on unclasping your bra. Keigo paused to admire your bare chest. “God y/n, as if you weren’t already looking like a five-course meal. I just might have to devour you until there’s nothing left.” Before you could come up with another response, Hawks enveloped his eager mouth to your right nipple while reaching to attend to your left bud. He began to suck rhythmically as if attuned to your wildly beating heart, lazily switching from massaging your left nipple between his graceful fingers to rubbing it in a clockwise fashion. You groaned animalistically into his ear, clenching your vaginal muscles and grinding your heat against the corner of the counter in desperation.

“Keigo, stop fucking teasing me. Please do something, you’re driving me crazy.”

Obliging, Hawks abandoned your left nipple to pull your drenched panties to one side of your private area. “Jeez, kid, you’re practically drooling down there. I wonder how wet for me you’ll get once I stick my fingers inside that pretty pussy.” Something about the snarky comment sent you over the edge. It was as if something inside your brain snapped, and the need to control this bird-brained asshole overtook you. Oh, I’m gonna give this fucker a show, you mused. You grabbed Keigo’s wrist and shoved it directly inside your clenched hole, violently abusing his fingers akin to a human dildo to escalate your pleasure. Hawks’ mouth practically dropped to the floor, his gaze shifting frantically from you using him as your fuck toy to the canvas of your naked body.

“Holy fuck, kid. That’s so goddamn hot. You really are such a slut, fucking yourself with my own hand. God, y/n. I want to be inside you so fucking bad.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you huffed. ��Now take off your clothes while you watch me play with myself.”

You grabbed his wrist again to remove his fingers, replacing them with your own to appease the gnawing desire. “Don’t look away from me, Keigo. Make direct eye contact, or I’ll kick your ass out of here with nothing but a pulsating cock and a hope for a wet dream about me.” Hawks quickly stripped down to his boxers, awaiting eagerly for your next demand. You could see the evident staining where the fabric was constricting his shaft. “Such an obedient pigeon,” you purred. “Now stroke your cock slowly like the good little bird boy you are.” His right hand began to slip down the band of his tightening boxers. “Ah-ah-ah, I said to take off your clothes. I didn’t say you could take it out and touch it. Now I’ll allow you to jerk it outside of your boxers.”

“Fuck, kid. Who the hell are you talking to like that? I don’t like that bratty ass attitude you have. I may just have to sh-”

You interrupted his monologue to jump off the counter and engulf his clothed manhood as deeply as your throat would allow. Even as it threatened to touch the back of your esophagus, you could see that you weren’t able to completely fill it with your mouth. You worked quickly to moisten his stiff cock. He moaned and grabbed the base of your head as you proceeded to bob back and forth, driving him insane by your refusal to let him be in charge.

“You filthy whore. If you’re gonna suck me off at least do it properly.” Hawks was growing feral with desire to feel your slobbery mouth on the skin of his member. “I guess you have been a good birdie. Here, I’ll make this easier for you.” You removed him from your mouth long enough to yank down his underwear and return to his massive source of heat. You grabbed Keigo’s cockhead and placed it strategically between your lips, outlining the contours of your mouth and using his wetness as a lipliner. “Fuuuck, you are so good, so good to me baby bird,” he whimpered pathetically before taking him inside your mouth once again. You continued to pleasure him with an absurd amount of oral pressure and saliva which began to leak out the corners of your lips. After a couple minutes of sucking him off, you felt him start to quiver. “Ungh, y/n. I’m about to cum.”

You immediately pulled away. There was no way in hell Hawks was going to come in the store and take up your time without getting you off. “It’s my turn now Keigo. You talked all that shit and now I want to see what you can do. I doubt you’ll be able to get me to cum.” As you planned, this lit a fire under Takami’s ass to drill you harder than an army sergeant. Without a word, Hawks yanked you up from the roots of your hair, shredded off your panties, and proceeded to flip you on top of the counter with your dripping cunt exposed in the air.

“You’ll regret you said that. You’re about to sing my name until your pussy screams and it’ll be music to my ears. I’m gonna make you my dirty little songbird bitch.”

Your heart was racing as you were sprawled out on the counter, your most intimate parts displayed for Hawks’ viewing. You began to turn your head to face him when you felt a strong grip on the base of your scalp again. “I didn’t say you could look at me. Now turn back around or I’ll leave you with a sopping cunt and a hope for a wet dream,” Hawks mimicked. You regretted being so saucy with him before; he now had the upper hand but at the same time, you felt a wicked delight at what was in store. You could feel him tracing the outer folds of your womanhood meticulously and painfully slow before sliding upwards to reach the sensitive skin on your asshole. You involuntarily twitched as he touched this spot, not used to this area being so vulnerable. “It looks like I found your weak spot, baby bird. I think it’s time to show you what happens to bratty bitches who talk so impolitely to me.” You heard a soft whoosh from behind you, similar to a sailing dart. You gasped in shock as you felt the tip of a feather tickling your rim as two fingers began to penetrate the saturation built up in your twinging cunt. Hawks continued this assault as he began to fist his own member using the slick he swiped from your saturated hole, picking up speed to pump synchronously with his digits. “Shit, y/n. I can’t hold out much longer, your slutty pussy is soaking my hand. I want to feel how wet you are. Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill you with my cum?”

“Keigo, PLEASE! Please fuck me, I can’t take this anymore, ahh-. I’m begging you, I want you to stuff me with your fat cock.”

Hawks countered your begging by shoving his length into your sopping cavern. You cried out with a mixture of surprise and pain as he began to pump into you with determination. You could feel your walls clamp down on his manhood as he massaged your insides. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but to moan, your mind succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure you felt in your overheating pussy. Hawks felt like absolute nirvana, reaching parts of you that had not been touched in a very long time. He continued his strides in an exaggerated manner, ensuring that you felt every single inch of him from the base all the way to his engorged cockhead. Your wails of satisfaction began to match the reverberation of Keigo’s swollen balls slapping against your perineum, applauding the unification of two strangers and their primitive needs. ��“I told you, baby bird. I knew my cock would drive you insane. Who’s your owner now? Tell me, huh? I want you to say it, to scream it at the top of your lungs. Who’s fucking up this tight cunt, yeah? Who’s filling this slutty little hole of yours, songbird?”

“You are, Keigo, fuck. Fuck the shit out of me, please. Keep ramming my pussy, baby. I’m you-” He cut off your anguished whines by shoving his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste your own slick mixed with the flavors of his earlier meal. “Y/N, you sure are talkative for someone who can barely handle a cock inside her. Is papa bird too big for you to handle?”

“Hu-hrd-rr!”

“What was that, filthy girl? You’re mumbling.”

Hawks began to hammer into you, his breathing becoming ragged; the way you took such brutal pounding threatened to buckle his knees. He took his fingers out of your mouth so you could scream “I said, HARDER, you bastard!” You couldn’t help but to whine as he continued to fill your ears with lewd comments and grunts, his rhythm beginning to slightly falter with each clench as he fought to reach your cervix. You attempted to regain regularity in your breathing to no avail.

“Aah, aah, fuck Keigo. This is your pussy, don’t stop. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Shit baby bird, you’re so fucking tight it hurts. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with all my seed. You’re gonna be begging for my cock from now on out and I’ll make sure to give it to you every night. Now cum for me, baby. Sing me a song, songbird. I wanna hear you fucking say whose cock is claiming your pussy!” The screech you let out was inhumane, your legs shaking savagely as a deep, almost painful orgasm rippled from your center. The lilt of your voice sent Hawks into a frenzy, his thrusts becoming unstable and jolting as he moaned your name. You saw Hawks’ eyes begin to glaze over and saw your opportunity to attack. You turned to reach for his throat and pressed firmly with your thumb and index finger with just enough pressure to surprise him, cutting him off mid-groan. “Awhk, f-feels sh-so good. Almost th-there.” You wrapped your legs around Takami’s hips and squeezed as tightly as possible, leaving the pro hero no choice but to release himself inside you, hips bucking as his load emptied in rivets.

“Ahh shit, y/n. I meant to pull out. I should’ve asked you first.” He sighed as he slowly removed himself from you. You both watched his fatigued member leave your orifice covered in the combination of juices. “Well normally when people order food here, they don’t end up balls deep in me so…” you retorted. Hawks chuckled, a dash of pink beginning to spread on his cheeks. “Well pro heroes don’t normally meet such gorgeous and smart-ass chicks working at fried chicken shops.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. You weren’t immune to his charm, and you were wondering what just transpired. Hawks searched for a clean towel and began to wipe you off, erasing evidence of the night’s events. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you offered as you both began to redress yourselves. You hoped deeply you would see him again someday, even if it was just to order food. Hawks planted a soft kiss on your cheek, then asked “when’s your next day off, y/n?” You sighed lightly, “I actually have the next day off. Thank All Might, I’m exhausted.”

Hawks smiled, ruffled your hair, and replied “hope you’re not too exhausted. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you out on a proper date. I know this great little place that sells the best chicken.”

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