#but oh my god im stiff. im sore. my hands have cuts and also sores

[agdab]

replacing the switches in my keyboard was a huge success. it sounds so good. it sounds almost creamy. god...,

#i eat bees. #i was hunched over. all muscles tensed. squinting. #for four. hours. #and that was just for desoldering the old switches #the new ones was a breeze i did that all in like 20 mins #but oh my god im stiff. im sore. my hands have cuts and also sores #but so worth it. #and it was fun too!!!!

[heyitsyn]

'Siri Am I Having a Stroke?’ Sofia the First

Soulmate!Daichi x Reader Soulmate!Tendou x Reader

a/n: lmao, yall finna know what kind of soulmate au this

when your soulmate gets hurt, you kinda get hurt too

the music your soulmate listens to or constantly sings is always playing in your head

request:  Can I request a daichi, tendou, and aone soulmate au headcanon 🤲🏽😩 they're my faves, I wanted to add some more but there could be a limit? I'll request again next time ^^

a/n: sorry anon but ill only do daichi and tendou bc im not very familiar with aone :( but theres not really a limit so go ahead!!

requests open!!

so anyways

for most of your life, you thought you didnt even have a soulmate

there were no scars, no bruises,

nothing

this other half of yours was completely silent and you really thought that youd die forever

but, you

you were a wild chile and you were the type to go playing outside w your brothers and get a lot of cuts

maybe that was why you thought you didnt have a soulmate bc when your soulmate does get hurt, you wouldnt see it since youd think it was one of your own

now, daichi

he worried for you

new scars and bruises would appear on his arms overnight and he fussed over the fact that you would constantly getting hurt

were you in a toxic environment?

were these intentional?

but he would try and heal them, thinking that it would heal you too bc he didnt want you to be hurt

uwu daichi luv

he would even kiss them better bc his mom told him that kisses help them heal faster

then,

during middle school, daichi found his love for volleyball

he started training and being more active and that caused him a lot of bruises and pain

meanwhile w you,

youve mellowed out a bit

so when you entered middle school,

you were actually ecstatic to find that you had a soulmate bc you would find bruises on your hands and arms

you found out the afternoon of the first day of middle school

daichi was in the gym, practicing during lunch, and he hit a spike that bruised his fingers and he received a really powerful ball

you were sitting in class, completely bored out of your mind so you just doodled on your paper

then you flinched at the sudden pain and saw the formation of the beautiful mix of blue, purple,green, bruise

yall are in different schools btw

you shrieked and stood up, cutting off your teacher and surprising everyone in the room

‘my soulmate!’

they were like, ‘okay and?’

the entire day, you admired the colors, not even minding the hurt bc this was it!!

!!!!

your soulmate was real!!!

but daichi was worried that you were also going through the same pain and soreness from practice

and you were

after the shock and happiness of knowing you in fact do have a soulmate,

youve started getting annoyed

was this what he felt whenever you injured yourself during your younger years?

bc this waas annoying

you were constantly fatigued, tired, sore

even the mere action of getting up in the morning sucked and you actually fell down the stairs due to the soreness of your legs and you dropped your chopsticks due to the hurt in your fingers

youve concluded that your soulmate was either an athlete or in a toxic environment

during the walk to school, you raised your arms and watched a new bruise forming

it was a truly beautiful sight but the stiffness and hurt weighed it down

this was your only form of communication with your soulmate and you were sad bc you wanted to be there for him and help heal his bruises and scars

one of your friends suggested a crazy thought of hurting yourself to write a small message which you instantly turned down bc thats too crazy and you will not do that

as the years went on, you were starting to get more worried each day that you wont be meeting your soulmate soon

for almost 6 years, youve wandered over to every athletic club in your school or nearby schools to find if there was even a person who had the same bruises as you

ngl, some lied just bc they wanted you as their soulmate uwu

one of your classmates in seijoh, iwaizumi hajime, has understood your dilemma since he was one of the ones youve expressed this concern to

youve been classmates for 3 years and youve always been coincidentally sat next to each other so youre close

i really cant resist my mans

‘y/n, i really think your soulmate is a volleyball player’

you rolled your eyes as you continued taking out your bento

‘iwa, ive checked your team, multiple times, and none of them are my soulmate! ive even checked other schools too since my brothers have connections there. but still nothing’

he felt bad for you, truly

he already found his when yall started high school, almost immediately, and you were so jealous

‘but those bruises on your arm can only be from volleyball. the way its placed, its like receiving an intense ball while the fingers might be because he spikes the ball’

you sighed before leaning your chin on your hand

‘okay, great buddha iwa-chan. enlighten me as to why you think so’

his eye twitched at the ridiculous nickname

‘y/n, im a volleyball player. ive been playing since i was like 6 and im the ace. i have those same exact bruises’

‘WHAT! IWA-CHAN ARE YOU MY SOULMATE?!’

‘YOU IDIOT I ALREADY HAVE MINE!’

but you mulled it over for a few days

yea, it would make sense, right?

but it still doesnt add up that youve literally visited every single club around with the help of being iwa’s friend and going to their matches

however,

due to karasuno not having practice matches w seijoh or not advancing far enough to play against them, youve never really interacted with that team

besides, the times they actually played against each other, youve been busy due to having to do interships, part time jobs, and studying since it was your last year of high school

it was during the second interhigh that iwa finally got you to go watch them play

‘come on, y/n. shittykawa misses you and matsun and maki keep demanding your support’

‘iwa, what-’

so you found yourself at the stands, just watching the games until seijoh actually plays

then you saw the team, known as karasuno, enter the gym to start their warm-ups

your heart started beating really fast and you were kinda freaking out bc what was happening

‘siri am i having a stroke?’

daichi was feeling the same thing

he thought it was just the adrenaline of playing a game but in all of his years of play8ing volleyball, he hasnt felt this intense beating of his heart

he even had to lean on suga for support bc it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest

‘daichi, you okay?’

suga worriedly asked and placed a hand on his forehead to check his temp

daisuga rights yall

he didnt want to worry the team so he nodded, just waving it off

he was captain so he shouldnt worry the others

oikawa and iwa entered the stands and were confused as to why you were looking around with wide eyes like an owl

fukurodani vibes

‘y/n-chan, what’s wrong?’

oikawa asked and you looked at them, surprised and shocked

they were lowkey freaked out bc what was happening

‘oikawa-san, my heart-’

you mumbled and pointed to your chest

his smile wobbled bc you just started at him and it was starting to scare him a bit

since oikawa hasnt found his soulmate yet, he wasnt familiar with the feeling of being in the same vicinity as his other half

but iwa did

and he was smiling

‘you owe me so much, y/n’

‘IWA! I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO DIE!’

karasuno was going against johzenji and daichi wasnt exactly in his best game

to others, he looked like he was doing great but he wasnt feeling good and the beat of his heart was still very fast

this distraction caused him and tanaka to collide and everything went to hell

the entire time, your arms were crying and you were just sweating from the pain but you were also sweating w the possibility of your soulmate being either in johzenji or karasuno

but that was answered when daichi got hurt and you just collapsed, also falling unconscious

iwa, who returned from getting drinks, ran to your slumped form and oikawa, who was focused on the match and didnt notice, shrieked at your unconscious form

‘y/n? y/n, wake up’

everyone in the stands stared at your unconscious form and they started talking, eventually catching the attention of the karasuno team

suga, who was fussing over daichi, heard that a girl also fell unconscious

omg what if

oikawa was grinning at the sight of your bruised cheek bc you finally found your soulmate so you would shut up about it

iwa carried you to the nurse and you actually woke up as he placed you on the bed, conviently beside the karasuno captain

‘w-what-’

but he only smiled

‘congratulations, y/n’

bih what

congratulations for what

the nurse went over from beside daichi and she giggled at the meeting of soulmates

you sat up, wincing at the pain in your tooth

‘ow’

that caught daichi’s attention and he stared at you and your arms before looking at his

they were the exact same

‘i think,,,, i think we’re soulmates’

that made you quickly look at him and noticed the big bruise on his face that was like copy paste on you

‘oh god!’

you cowered and had your hands over your mouth in surprise

he froze, starting to feel insecure that he wasnt what you wanted

‘is something wrong-’

‘you’re HOT!!’

you shrieked unconsciously and when you finally realized it, you hurriedly pulled the blanket over your form

lmao gurl noooooo

daichi started laughing and he thought you were cute

straightforward

but cute

‘oi, come on. i want to see your pretty face’

yes police officer. this is the man who stole my uwus

you peaked your head out from your blanket cocoon and he smiled softly

‘i’m sawamura daichi, by the way. 3rd year’

‘l-l/n y/n. same y-year’

‘so? you expected me to be this?’

you shook your head

‘i mean, iwa told me you could be a volleyball player. but i didnt expect the universe to like me enough to give me a greek god as my soulmate’

im disowning y/n yall

he turned flustered and looked away to hide his blush

‘youre not too bad yourself, you know. youre actually more beautiful than i thought’

‘sir! dont say that to me i be catching feelings way too fast for that!’

i-i cannot w you

he laughed out loud before wincing, causing you to wince too

‘but are you okay, though? i mean,, it must hurt’

but you shook your head

‘i should be asking you that. does it hurt as much as it looks?’

‘nah, its bearable’

you continued talking about your childhood and you actually clarified that you were just rambunctious when you were younger so you got hurt pretty often

‘i really thought you needed to be saved or something’

you smirked

‘oh? my prince charming? knight-in-shining-armor? knight prince daichi?’

he stared at you, a blush creeping up again

‘are you always this bold?’

you shrugged

‘meh. im friends w oikawa tooru’

‘oh. makes sense’

lmao

you both completely forgot about the fact that his face literally got hurt and his tooth was gone bc you have been talking like two best friends who got separated

but you had to separate at some point too

the beautiful manager entered the clinic and asked if daichi was okay enough

‘yea, im fine. i can go now, i guess’

you nodded sadly

‘okay. bye, daichi’

he furrowed his eyebrows

‘but wait for me later, okay? ill treat you to something after i win this match’

from your bed, you crossed your arm with a smug smile

‘oh? youre confident, captain’

‘of course. ill win bc this victory is for you’

you bashfully smiled and chuckled

‘go hurry and win! i expect that date as soon as possible, captain!’

the deadchi memes are literally scaring the new fans and i feel really bad

bruh hes so cute for what

for his entire life, he had the sofia the first song stuck in his head

it was maybe bc his soulmate was in love w that show or just in love w the song

but either way, he constantly hears it and thinks about it

meanwhile you,

you constantly heard bye bye bye by nsync

of all things, it had to be a boy band

however, you were lucky bc for years it varied on what song would be playing

but for him, it continued to be sofia the first

this drived him to watch the show and he did see the appeal and soon, he started singing it too

omg its such a bop

you were triggered bc the song then switched over to sofia the first and you were like, ‘does he like it too?’

you would be going around the store, holding your mom’s hand, and singing it out loud, hoping to find your soulmate

but he never seemed to hear it

instead, hearing the song in your voice, instead of the show’s

he thought you had such a beautiful voice

then in elementary school, his bullying started and ngl, he was actually hurt by the words other kids said

he still had his cute smile on and acted like it didnt bother by teasing others but he was still sad

did nobody like him?

was he always going to look like a monster?

would you be revolted if you saw him?

then he heard this song in the radio ‘dear insecurity’ and he just couldnt help but keep listening to it

ofc you noticed and you were sad that he was listening to such sad song

he was insecure and you couldnt do anything about it

then you started looking up motivating songs and you started singing the one that you really liked

‘i see your monsters, i see your pain, tell me your problems, i’ll chase them away’

he heard your voice as he was hiding behind the school building and his tears instantly stopped, hearing a different song but he couldnt help but smile

he knew that song was for him

you were out there somewhere and a complete stranger to him but you were the only person who seemed to care

because under that teasing and cheerful personality, he was still human and he was very insecure about himself

but you were always there to encourage him, your voice instantly chasing all the fears away

when he started playing volleyball, he became famous for his efficient blocks and you could hear him singing different songs, all of them just under a minute

you concluded that they were his own songs

sometimes, you laughed bc they were funny songs and catchy so you would memorize it and sing it back to him

this was your only way of communicating back of forth and you were so lucky that you even got to hear your soulmate’s voice

then high school started, meaning your friends started meeting their soulmates one by one until you were the only one who didnt

your school, karasuno, had no one that had the same voice as your soulmate’s

some people even saw you as an extrovert and a people person since you started conversations with strangers easily but this was just your way of finding your other half

with no luck, you started singing your concerns

in no time, ‘thousand miles’ was playing on loop in tendou’s head and he was already feeling your antsy attitude

in retaliation, he starts singing ‘lucky’ by jason mraz and you always turned red, slightly happy that he was practically calling out to you

so even though you suffered through years being alone, you didnt give up on hope and continued your search

now, youd be asking, ‘why cant you or tendou just sing each other’s location?’

yes, young grasshopper, there is an explanation to that

you and tendou collectively agreed to let fate do its work and just wait for the time it happens bc if its meant to be, its meant to be

besides, tendou likes to tease you and he wants to make you wait for him so that the moment you do meet, it would become more special

in your last year of high school, you ended up helping kiyoko in being manager and you were so proud of these boys for making it to the finals

you were excitedly waving an orange flag in support of your team and you screamed with the others as they entered the court

you and yacchi ended up helping tanaka’s sister, saeko, and was setting up the plan for their cheers so you werent exactly focused on your soulmate

but tendou did keep hearing a fight song in your head

then they walked in

shiratorizawa made their presence known and you turned to look at them but locked eyes at the unique looking player

his red hair glinted against the bright lights of the gym and his smirk curled in such an attractive way that you were leaning forward to get a closer look

tendou noticed a stare at him and he saw your surprised yet flustered look

that eye contact made everything fall deaf in your ears and you just heard silence

no song, no cheer, just absolute silence

but you and tendou are practically the same so you thought for the worse that your soulmate has died bc of the silence

dread filled your stomach and you started singing sofia the first in instinct

your mouth moved with the words and you shut your eyes, trying to calm yourself down

his jaw dropped, hearing the familiar voice and song that correlated with your mouth’s movements

‘there you are, little birdie’

semi turned to tendou and saw him with a smile hes never seen before

it was so soft and genuine that he got a little scared

the entire game, you were all depressed bc it continued to be silent in your head

tendou was just teasing you a little bit and he didnt want to think or sing a song bc he wanted it to be a special cliche reunion after he crushes your team

but his famous song ruined it

it blared in your head and it got 2x bass boosted when he sang it out loud, completely disregarding the fact that everyone was listening

‘you!’

you shrieked and pointed to him

he was your soulmate

and he was alive

not dead

everyone, including all players, looked at confusion between you and him but he just waved at you

‘ill talk to you later, little birdie!’

great, he embarrassed you in front of everyone

but you didnt care bc omg he was your soulmate!!

‘omg universe and fate, you actually like me to give me such a handsome soulmate!’

now, youre actually cheering on both teams

one was your home school the other was your soulmate

however,

there could only be one winner

and that winner was karasuno

you noticed the defeated looks of your soulmate and his teammates and you almost bursted into tears

you quickly maneuvered yourself through the people and found the familiar spiky hair standing at the doorway, looking at the gym with a forlorn expression

the others noticed you there, especially ushijima who gave you a nod and a small smile

‘i trust you’ll take care of him’

you nodded shakily, raising a hand in salute

‘y-yes!’

you approached him and his teary eyes almost made you bolt into his arms but you calmed yourself

instead, you didnt say anything

but you did sing

‘come stop your crying, it will be alright. just take my hand, and hold it tight. i will protect you, from all around you. i will be here, dont you cry.’

tendou looked to his side and saw you there, not looking at him but also looking at the same direction he was previously

‘my name is tendou satori’

despite already hearing his voice, you still turned red and you looked at him, warmth and love present in your eyes

‘and i’m l/n y/n’

‘you have a beautiful voice’

‘and you are beautiful’

that ending for shiratorizawa physically and emotionally and mentally broke me

#daichi #sawamura daichi #tendou #tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #daichi x reader #daichi imagines #daichi scenarios #daichi x y/n #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi imagines #daichi sawamura imagines #sawamura daichi scenarios #sawamura daichi fluff #tendou x reader #tendou satori imagines #tendou hcs #daichi hcs #haikyuu hcs #tendou imagines #tendou scenarios #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu soulmate au #daichi fluff #tendou fluff

[yuthoe]

Day 6: Muse (MONSTA X: Lee Minhyuk)

REPOST BC IT DIDN'T SHOW UP IN THE TAGS LAST TIME

i was wondering when i'd finally miss a day of this challenge HAHAHA, but here it iiiisssss! today's prompt is

Day 6: Artist & Model

from this prompts list. i cheated a bit, using a short story i submitted to a creative writing class in college, but i edited quite a bit of it (in the original, the guy is bound and the artist is a woman) bc i wanted to make the reader as gender neutral as i could.

this story is kinda my baby, but at the same time im tired of looking at it by myself and letting it rot unseen in my college files lol. it's probably still horrible tho, even if i did get a relatively high grade for that class HAHAHAHA. i'm putting all of it under the cut bc we going RIGHT TO IT

PAIRING: Lee Minhyuk x reader. GENRE: smut (bc there's bondage and ~feelings~), fic. WARNINGS: bondage, ropes, gagging, mild suggestiveness. WORD COUNT: 1,501.

---

Minhyuk loops the rope one last time around your wrists, the white cotton startlingly bright against your skin. The series of crisscrosses start from your elbows down, secured with a small knot you can easily pull on if you want to unravel the whole thing. Your arms are pulled back behind you, looking almost suspended in movement; the rope gives no leeway, no space to move even an inch.

“How is it?” Minhyuk asks, moving on all fours on the bed to check for any signs of discomfort on his friend’s face. It’s almost a relief to be looking away from the ropes, if he’s being honest. If he weren’t so worried about this being your first time with bondage, he’d probably just sit there and stare at the intersecting lines and patterns the ropes make, the way they dig into the plush of your arms. “Are you good?” he asks again, swallowing.

You shift and squirm, the sheets rustling underneath you as you adjust your position. You open and close your hands, move your shoulders to try and dislodge the ropes, but they won’t budge. While Minhyuk was securing you in the bond, you didn’t feel a pull at all—he was very gentle, and you were even worried the ties would be a little loose.

Obviously, that isn’t the case now, as here you are—donning shorts and a tank top, a gag in your mouth, and your arms securely tied at your back.

Your eyes meet Minhyuk’s and you nod, impressed and a little scared that your friend group’s resident funny man is the kinkiest person you know because, with the way the ropes are tied, the way he walked you through the whole process… it’s like he’s done it before, and multiple times.

But while the sudden realization is scary, it is also very, very hot, so you’re not complaining.

“All right, just stay like that,” Minhyuk says, and you watch him hop off the bed and scurry to the corner of the room to drag the broken-in armchair across the floor. He shifts it this way and that, just out of your field of vision, miniscule adjustments that he insists helps him sketch better. It isn’t the first time you’ve modeled for your partner, so this is all familiar territory.

The ropes and the cloth between your teeth are new, though.

You inhale deeply. Exhale. You try to make yourself comfortable in the pose Minhyuk directed you into, sitting with one leg tucked underneath the other like a mermaid. You’re definitely gonna be sore later.

The springs squeak in the armchair, and you see Minhyuk tucking himself into the seat while flipping to an empty page on his sketchbook. You ground yourself on the familiar sight; he really is pretty, with the sharp jaw and piercing eyes. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to have any artistic talents, so you could draw him too. Alas, the best you can do to replicate his image is a stick man.

“You still good, Y/N?” he asks, and without waiting for an answer, starts sketching. You hear the faint scratches of the pencil on paper, some light and long, some quick and short with a fuller sound.

It’s quiet, as Minhyuk is always quiet when he draws. He told you once that the silence is calming, the sounds of nature and graphite on paper helping him concentrate. You don’t know how long it’s been since he started sketching—your phone is on the desk at the opposite wall, and the clock’s batteries have run out.

The rhythmic scratching of Minhyuk’s sketching overtakes your senses, makes you doze off. You only notice when you start drooping forward, and you have to stop yourself from plummeting face-first into the mattress.

You shake your head, shift slightly to wake yourself up, and—oh.

Shivers wrack your body. Your arms, stiff with disuse, tingle as the ropes dig into your flesh, and you tense as if trying to break free of the bonds. You feel the resistance of the rope and try to breathe in deeply, keeping the oxygen in your lungs before breathing out slowly. Your back curves forward as you exhale and you struggle keeping in the moan that threatens to erupt from the feel of the rope.

Minhyuk notices the movement and pauses his sketching, moving his canvas out of the way to peek at you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You take in another deep breath and nod frantically, still facing the direction of the desk, still sitting there how he wants, obedient and pliant.

The next thing you know, the hair that’s fallen into your face is brushed away, and you lift your head to meet Minhyuk’s concerned face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A shaky nod.

“Really?”

Another nod, more resolved.

“We can stop if you want.”

You shake your head.

Minhyuk purses his lips, weighing whether or not to continue, and you feel a little guilty for worrying him, but you’re overwhelmed!

Finally he sighs. “Think you can wait like, five minutes? I’m almost done, babe.”

You let out a muffled “mhm”.

As soon as Minhyuk steps off the bed, you take another deep breath to compose yourself.

God, his fingers in your hair felt nice. Has it really been that long since you had any physical contact? It took everything in you to not lean into his touch, to not let out a sound, to not disobey him and keep still.

You close your eyes and crack your stiff neck, trying to relax once again. You will your breathing to slow and your body to move back into position, long enough for Minhyuk to finish the sketch. But with each second that passes, with each scratch of graphite that reaches your ears, it gets harder and harder to keep composed.

You can feel yourself sweat, and your thighs are shaking and tired from keeping your position. The rope restricting you feels tighter, its fibers digging into your skin—or is that just your imagination? Has it been five minutes or five hours? You’re not sure.

You take another breath—Is Minhyuk done yet?

The bed dips and you open your eyes. Minhyuk’s dark brown eyes look back at you, satisfied and grateful.

“You were really good, baby, thank you,” he says softly. A hand cups the back of your head and the other pulls down the cloth gag, leaving it to hang around your neck. Minhyuk leans forward and quickly kisses you on the lips.

“Can I get out of these now?” you said, voice hoarse and scratchy from disuse. You try swallowing spit, but it only makes your mouth drier.

Minhyuk snorts. “The sketch looks great, thanks for asking,” he jokes and rolls his eyes. “No joke, though, you look really beautiful like this.” He slowly, gently lifts you up, giving your aching thighs a reprieve and settling you on his lap. You feel his warm hands rub and massage your tender flesh as he smiles at you. “Kinda wanna just have my way with you right now.”

You whine, “You’re killing me here!” and he just answers with a laugh. You squirm, trying to loosen the ropes, but your muscles are jelly. You’re still wound up from being in the ropes too long; you just want to get out of them and hold him again, press kisses into his face and run your hands through his silky hair.

Minhyuk isn’t helping either—his hands are everywhere, squeezing at your waist, running over your still trapped arms, cradling your neck, slipping under your shirt. His lips are at your neck, pressing kisses up your jaw and your ears, further amplifying your need to just touch with your own two hands.

Is this what the girls feel like in all those pornos? The heat, the haze, the feeling of feeling everything and nothing at the same time?

“Man, you knew what you were doing when you asked me to model for you,” you say, voice catching on a moan as he lightly nips at your ear.

Minhyuk chuckles and pulls away, smooths a thumb across your lip. You tremble in his hold. “So…? Wanna have a go? We can just try it out, but if you want to stop in the middle, we’ll stop.”

Would you even want to, though? In the event that you say yes and play out a scene, would you really, voluntarily choose to stop?

Do you want to get out of these ropes? Yes. But do you also want to see what Minhyuk is going to do with you in these ropes?

… Also yes.

There isn’t a doubt right now that you’re really, really absurdly curious as to what Minhyuk has planned for you.

You take a deep, shaky breath and lick your lips, anticipation clear in your eyes. “Okay,” you say, letting him take the reins. But still, you press closer and give him a kiss as you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

#kdiarynet #monsta x smut #monsta x minhyuk #minhyuk #lee minhyuk #monsta x minhyuk scenario #monsta x minhyuk imagine #minhyuk scenario #minhyuk imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #fic: mine #fic: minhyuk #fic: spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

[deviatedwinter]

Not what I imagined

(Matt Taylor x Reader)

!! My Gif

Summary: Reader is freezing in the mines looking for Matt

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: a few swears, just overall grim circumstances but if you're a fan of Until Dawn you're used to it ;)

Slightly inspired by @untildawnwrites-blog !

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

The screeching of metal brought you back to your senses.

You were clinging to a fallen fire tower that was slowly being swallowed by a dark ravine. Your  legs were folded underneath you as your boots rested on the decrepit railing, your hands gripping the deck. 

Just moments earlier you were with your friends Matt and Emily using the radio, trying to call for help. There was a psycho on the mountain who wanted to harm you and your friends. He had already gotten to Josh.. 

Shortly after a ranger received your cries, the tower fell.

You had been on the outside when you were startled by movement below. Something fast and strong had severed the tower's cables.

When the tower fell, it was as if it was falling on top of you. You clung to the building as the darkness of the ravine was thrown towards you.

Now, clinging to the rusted metal, you prayed that your friends were safe. Emily had been on the other side of the tower, so hopefully she must've jumped onto the snowy banks of the ravine before the tower totally sank.

Matt.

You cried out his name, hoping he was alright and hoping he could help you.

You heard a cough, and then some curses above you.

You then caught a glimpse of his violet jacket as he called your name out into the darkness.

"I-im here!" You cried, starting to feel heat emmenating from the small flames that licked the tower's interior.

"H-hold on, I'm coming!" You heard him grunt as the tower began to slowly creak.

You fought the urge to look down, knowing the drop was far. Instead, you tried to steady your breathing, the warm air from the flames mixing in with the frigid mountain draft.

Finally, you heard Matt above you.

"I'll try to get to you, just hold on!" He explained. You could just barely see his face above you once you craned your neck.

"Matt! Be careful!" You warned, not wanting his fate to be the same as yours.

A sickening creak sent your stomach spiraling in dread, but it was quickly interrupted when you saw a flash of movement above you.

A white sleeve, covered in grime followed by a beckoning hand awaited you.

"Grab my hand! I'll pull you up!"

Eagerly, you straightened out your legs to reach up and grab his hand.

That was your mistake.

At the sudden movement and shifting of weight, the railing you had rested upon gave way. A scream ripped from your throat, and suddenly Matt was growing smaller and smaller, and the cold wind bit at your skin. Above the sound of the air rushing past, you could've sworn you heard your name being cried out.

This was it. This is how you die.

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to be met with hard stone, a sickening crack.

But instead, you felt the stone for a split second before being enveloped by icy liquid. It invaded your lungs, the bitter coldness stabbing at you like thousands of needles. Finally, you managed to swim upwards, your body expelling the water inside your lungs with a retch.

You took a few moments to take in your situation. You were in a river at the very bottom of the ravine, it being mostly dark except for the flaming tower far above and the slivers of moonlight. The current was slow and there were several stalagmites poking through the water's surface. You were relieved you hadn't landed on any of them.

Water was still in your ears, your hearing mostly muffled. You once again could've sworn you could hear your name being called out. 

Quickly, you regained most of your senses before trudging to shore, the shrill creaking of the tower above you loud enough to cut through your suppressed hearing. As you climbed onto the cold bank, your body trembled from the severe cold. Pain also shot up your legs and spine, your muscles sore from the impact of the fall.  The freezing water had clung to you like plastic wrap, and crystals slowly began to form on your clothing. With chilly hands, your patted your ears as you tilted your head, your hearing coming back with a pop. 

You yelped as a loud crash was heard behind you, sending a spray of freezing water onto your already soaked body.

The tower had fallen into the shallow water, causing waves to lap at the bank. There was a hiss as flames were meeting their demise at the contact of water.

You needed to find warmth. 

But alas, any surviving flames were in the middle of the river and in the process of being snuffed out. 

Behind you was a mineshaft, and to your right were sluices and a large decrepit water wheel. At least other people had been here before, maybe there was a way out.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you slowly made your way into the shaft, your eyelashes begainning to feel heavier as the water droplets trapped in them froze. You shakily slid your hand over your back pocket, suprised to feel the outline of your phone, but immediately your hopes were dashed, remembering how long you were in the water. Would it still even work? 

You pulled it out anyway, your numbed finger pressing the power button for any signs of life.

Your heart lept when your lockscreen showed up, thank god for your waterproof phone case. 

shakily you turned on the flashlight, its small beam making the trek in the tunnel easier. You began feeling the effects of the cold, your clothes feeling like they were made of mesh as your skin was nipped by the chill. 

You watched your breathe come out in clouds, your lips feeling chapped as your toes and digits became numb. You had to find warmth. You had to find Matt.

You whimpered, hoping your friend was okay. You hadn't seen him at the bottom of the ravine, could he have jumped off onto a ledge? 

"Matt?" You called out to the air, your voice dripping with fear. Your hope began to fade, and despair settled in. It wasn't fair, you wanted him to know how you felt, how much you cared for him. But as far as you knew, he could be dead, and this could be your last night on Earth. 

It felt like you had been walking for hours. Your body ached, and the temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute. However, the shaft appeared to slowly rise at an incline, could you be getting closer to the surface?

Your steps had turned clumsy, your mind foggy as you tried to navigate the underground systems. You had no doubt that you were succombing to hypothermia, it would only be a matter of time before you stumbled off a ledge or passed out completely. You could've sworn that you heard screeches in the distance, but you blamed it on your deterriorating mind, and maybe bats. 

You found yourself at a cavern, mining equipment strewn about as if the miners would come back  any minute, if you didn't take in account the rust and rotting wood. 

Your body was tired, you just wanted to curl up and hopefully find warmth that way. So that's what you did. 

You lowered yourself on the hard ground next to a few decaying crates, your body shivering as you brought your legs to your chest. The ice that had formed on your clothing was splintering and falling away from your movement, another reminder on how totally frozen you were. You were engulfed in darkness once you shut off your phone. Sleep beckoned you to its peaceful grasp, and you eagerly fell into it. 

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

Matt made his way down a dark mineshaft, the lantern in his hand giving in some warmth in the bitter night. At every turn, he meekly called out for his lost friends, especially one of them.

The person he was head over heels over, that he promised himself wouldn't get hurt under his watch, was down here somewhere, and most likely dead. The person who he had planned to confess his feelings to by the warm fire, or under the stars while gazing at the mountains. 

He wasn't good enough.

That's all he could think about as he traversed the spindling corridors, his heart sinking with every step. He was right there, he could have done something. 

Right after the teenager had witnessed his friend fall into the darkness, he leapt to a nearby platform to avoid being brought down with the tower. He had laid on his chest, peering over into the abyss and crying out their name, his heart breaking with the silence that answered him back.

But he had swallowed the tears. He had to be tough, there was no sense in him dying as well, although a part of him felt like it.  He had found a lantern and was now trying to find a way out. Finally, after some time, he wandered into an opening, several crates and equipment lying dormant. 

His eyes scanned the cavern before they landed on a mass in the shadows near the crates. Slowly, he crept forward and he jolted as the lantern's golden light fell upon your sleeping form. 

"Oh shit!" He cursed before calling your name, quickly kneeling beside you. Thats when he noticed the ice caked onto your clothes, and how your hair had been frozen stiff. 

He gently shook you, his hands warm and slowly he felt some of the ice underneath his touch begin to melt.

Slowly, your sleepy eyes opened and met his frantic ones, relief washing over them at the sight of you awakening.

"Matt..?" you whispered, your voice a hollow rasp of what it usual was. 

"You're alive.." he breathed, still in shock but relief washing over him in waves

"How the fuck are you still alive..?" he asked softly with bewilderment, taking note of your coldness and quickly shedding his letter jacket.

"Water..I fell in..water.." Was all that you could muster as Matt helped you peel your shaking arms out of your soaked coat, replacing it with his dry one.  His body heat that was absorbed by the wool warmed you, your gaze falling onto him.

"What about you..? You're gonna be cold.." 

He gave you one of his gentle smiles before helping you up.

"I'll be fine, I still got this denim jacket and my sweater. Don't worry about me." 

The familiar pain shot up your spine as you stood, your posture faltering before a pair of arms wrapped around you, keeping you steady. 

"Can you walk?" He asked gently, surprised by your fragile state.

"It hurts.." You whimpered, hating that he had to see you this way. But the pain, the cold, it was all eating at your effort to stay strong.

Matt felt his heart once again snap in two, his eyes taking on the puppy dog appearance that you'd grow accustomed to. 

You yelped slightly as he picked you up, his arms looping under your knees as he held you bridal style. 

"Matt-" 

"It's fine, I got you. I saw a light further down the shaft, we're almost out I think. Can you hold this for me? it might keep you warm." He removed an arm from underneath your back to grab the lantern, gently allowing your hand to wrap around its handle. Once you were situated, he got up with hardly a grunt. Even after all the night's terror, he was still strong. 

As he carried you down the shaft, you listened to his breathing, his body heat and the heat from the lamp slowly warming you up and clearing your mind. 

"I don't think there's just a maniac up here.." He said aloud, as if he was talking to himself rather than you in particular.

Your mind went back to the strange shape moving underneath the fire tower before it fell, to the shrieks you had heard echoing in the mine.

"Yeah..theres some..thing.." You replied weakly, fear starting to grip you.

Matt quickly tried to lighten the mood, a small smile returning to his face.

"Yknow, this isn't entirely what I imagined carrying you bridal style would look like." 

Your gaze turned towards his face, the yellow light of the lantern showing you the scratch on his cheek along with the dirt that clung to his skin. His cheeks were flushed in the light. 

"What exactly... did you imagine?" 

He hesitated before answering, another smile twitching at his lips.

"You'd be wearing white, maybe I'm in a tux, flowers and rice being rained on us."

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as well, them becoming warm despite your body's condition.

"When we survive this, I think that can still be...attainable." 

His joyful smile and reply was cut short by a shriek from behind, the color draining from both of your faces.

"Matt..?" You breathed out, fear gripping you.

His jaw clenched, the cogs in his mind spinning before he ran behind a wall of planks. He quickly set you down and turned the dial on the lantern to dim its light.

Both of you stood still as you heard something scampering on stone behind you. Matt held you close, his breath stalled as the creature screeched, the frail boards the only thing separating you and the monster. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw it. A gaunt, white creature crawled on the wall effortlessly, its limbs scuttling the surface like a spider. It shrieked once more before scampering to another area of the mines.

You slowly let out a breath, and so did Matt, the two of you sharing the same terrified and confused glance. Neither of you cared about what that thing was, you only cared about getting the fuck out of there. 

This time, Matt picked you up once more with haste, your hand barely scooping up the lantern before he stood and ran down the shaft.

You spotted light ahead peaking through some boards, and so did he.

You allowed him to set you down once more, this time standing on your own with the lantern as he backed up. You watched with shaky knees as he broke through the rotting wood with his shoulder, revealing a large outcrop with the lodge in the distance.

Holy fuck, you had wandered back to the lodge all the way from the tower...through the mines??

Matt held out his hand, and you gently took it as you both edged out onto the ledge, relief filling both you, the adrenaline coursing through your veins warming your bodies.

"Is it too soon the check up on your offer?" Matt breathed, his palms meeting his knees as he caught his breathe.

#until dawn #until dawn matt #matt until dawn #until dawn x reader #until dawn imagine #matt taylor #matt taylor x reader #matt x reader

[bjy-on-ao3]

Omg, i just read your dionysus fic, over indulgence, and holy shit, it was amazing! I really liked how you characterised him, and reader too, i just dont know what to say other than i absolutely loved it! I'd love to see more hades content! Maybe with Ares this time? He is always so smug, and somehow can be both very intimidating while staying super polite.... Im howwible with prompts, but maybe one where reader is a priestess of athena and somehow catches ares's attention?

I hope you don’t mind stuff rough.  I hope this satisfies your want for Ares, Anon!

In the game, Athena and Ares don’t seem to really like each other all that much, so I figured any priest/priestesses or disciples of her would have been warned about him. It also made sense for me that many of those people would double as great warriors/soldiers skilled at defense, but also in battle overall.If you’re looking for something warm and soft, please turn back. I really can’t see Ares in a gentle light, and this fic will contain blood/bloodplay, biting, bruising, and Ares getting a kick of out it all. Dubcon only because Reader agrees to the conditions of Ares being able to take what he wants if they lose. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Combat, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex

Summary Reader - priestess and champion of Athena and fresh off becoming victor of a tournament held in honor of the gods - has an encounter with the most bloodthirsty god of them all: Impressed, Ares offers them a boon should they best him in combat - though if they lose, Ares may take what he sees fit.

Fic Friday

Shieldmaiden (F! Reader/Ares)

The day had been a long and arduous one, filled to bursting with adrenaline and quick-thinking. Oft enough, your days were composed of training or ceremonies, or helping those who sought aid from the temple to Athena you served. But dawn that morning had heralded the start of a tournament lasting till Helios drove the sun beneath the horizon once more. In a way, those who fell quickly were rewarded with a reprieve from the constant bouts, as even though the humiliation of defeat burdened them.

Even on the heels of victory, by the time the battles had concluded, you were tired and sore, marred with minor bruises and a few nicks and scrapes. It was nothing that a good night’s sleep and some poultices wouldn’t solve, though. ‘All worth the honor of winning such a tournament’ you told yourself. Unlike some combatants, you hadn’t killed an opponent, seeking to shed the least blood possible. Your efficiency had no room for excess. But no amount of hard-won praise and self-satisfaction could change that you were looking forward to curling up and resting until the sun rose on a new day.

Traipsing back to the temple in the glowing purple and red twilight, however, a voice caught your attention. “I must say, your performance today was quite impressive.”

To your credit, you didn’t jump or flinch away, becoming stock still and turning slowly toward the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Whom do I have privilege of impressing?” You asked cautiously, unable to strip all the irritation from your tone. You had patience remaining, though you were loath to chat with someone over your victory when you would much rather be in your bed.

Your eyes landed on a tall figure you somehow hadn’t noticed before - a man - stance regal and straight. Something about the posture gave off a sense of nonchalance as well. Clad in armor of ivory and gold, accented with long shards of black and the eerie glaring face of a beast on the chest plate, he radiated an aura of menace, accompanied by a bloodlust so tangible you could almost taste it on your tongue, hot and bitter. Eyes like smoldering coals plucked from a roaring hearth stared at you intently.. Combined with the simper spread over his lips, you couldn’t suppress the chill that raced up your spine.

Something in your gut twisted uncomfortably, and you resisted the urge to put a few more paces between the two of you. Even if it hadn’t been for the myriad weapons crossed over his back, or the impressive armor, the man would have seemed someone to be cautious around, someone you shouldn’t trust. Everything put together set you on high alert instantly, the instinct of fight or flight rising in your chest like a bird taking wing. Something primal shrieked at you that, for once, flight might be the preferred choice.

“You fight rather viciously for one under my dear sister’s wing,” the man mused, his tone light, but formal.

“I asked before - who are you?” you pressed again, not interested in mincing words. You didn’t like how easily he spoke to you or offhandedly disparaged your goddess.

“Oh, no hesitation to be found. Perhaps Athena neglected to impart all of her wisdom to you after all.” you bristled at the insult, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve some of the tension coursing through you. “I am Ares, and I desired to see the prowess of my sister’s little owl before my own eyes.”

‘Little owl?’ the nickname distracted you at first, thinking to the tiny owls often depicted accompanying your Lady, but you shook your head and dismissed the thought. You hadn’t the time to concern yourself with foolish nicknames. “Lord Ares? Well, I have no desire to see you, my Lord,” you said. With the revelation of his identity, you felt even more uneasy. Ares, god of war and death, who was said to bask in the bloodshed and chaos of man. Athena had been certain her followers knew well of her violent half-brother. “I may not have all of my Lady’s knowledge, but I am wise enough to keep my distance from you and the needless death that follows in your wake.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, wary of each word and wondering if he might take offense from your rejection. From the tales told, the Olympians never took well to being ignored or spurned, but to indulge in the company of a god like Ares was no more appealing a choice. The look on Ares’ face remained pleasant, the corners of his lips set in a smug smile, and he let out a quick puff of laughter that would have been pleasant, had it not come from him.

“What a pity. Although I do not believe that choice is yours to make, little owl,” he began, closing some distance between you. You followed his movements intently, concerned he might draw one of the swords from his back and set upon you with every step closer. “Surely you do not think yourself beyond the bidding of one god solely because you serve another?”

Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously at your sides as you considered his words. Ares was right, of course. Being a priestess of Athena did not grant you any protection from other gods - not unless she interfered directly. And that kind of divine intervention was a rarity. You avoided his question and changed the subject, though you doubted he would be redirected so easily. The God of War was no fool.

“What do you really want? I’ve little time for games, my Lord.”

“I wish to see your technique for myself. Show me how that passion and diligence fares against a foe more than mortal,” he elaborated.

The blood in your veins ran cold upon his admission and your heart thudded so hard you wondered if it was audible from where he stood. Battling a god was firmly on the side of things you wished never to do. “If you think I’m dull enough that I would willingly engage the God of War, then you insult me, my Lord,” you said stiffly, trying to suppress your trepidation from worming into your voice and failing.

“What is it I hear beneath your bold tone? I trust one of my dear sister’s bold little priestesses, one of her champions, even, is not afraid of all things?” Ares taunted smoothly. From the way his self-assured smile twitched upward, barely, you knew he was enjoying your reaction.

“Fear and caution are not the same thing,” you denied fiercely.

“True enough, but it is not caution what gives you pause. If it puts you at ease, little owl, I will not take your life.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scrutinized him intensely, finding no sign of whether he was lying or being genuine. All you found in those bloody eyes and stony face was cold calculation and an insatiable lust for violence. “Why should I believe you?” you asked, face twisting suspiciously.

“Because, beloved by my sister or not, if I so desired to kill you, I would have done so the instant you denied my invitation and spoke to me so disrespectfully.” He talked of ending you so casually it made you shudder, and you cursed yourself for it immediately.

It seemed you had little choice but to indulge Ares in whatever game he had in mind. “And if I agree - what is the benefit to me?” Ares had promised he wouldn’t kill you, but you saw no other purpose to fight him. You still weren’t sure he wouldn’t just kill you, despite his promise.

“Is serving one of the gods not benefit enough for you? What a greedy little owl my sister has found.” Again, Ares taunted you. You wondered if he was trying to make you angry enough to divest your caution and sabotage your battle prowess.

“That’s not an answer,” you spat back. God or not, you were tiring of whatever he was doing.

Fortunately, Ares cut to the chase. “Very well, best me and you shall have whatever boon of me you wish.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then, I shall take from you what I decide most fitting.:

“But not my life,” you added, still skeptical.

“You have my word,” Ares insisted. “Besides, would it not be such a waste to douse a promising ember when it could kindled and made to burn all around it?” he added in afterthought and once again the implications of his words unsettled you. “Now, I trust we are done with these tedious negotiations, hm?” he prompted.

Steeling yourself and willing away the stiffness and fear bubbling in your chest, you nodded. Ares had decided what the outcome of the discussion would be before he first spoke. There was nothing more to be said - at least not with words. Eyes trained on the intimidating figure of the God of War, you retrieved the shield and blade slung over your shoulders. You brandished them both, falling into the stance you were trained to use.

Across from you - hardly half a dozen feet off - Ares drew a weapon of his own. The sight of the curved blade incited your fear once more. The black blade was a ghastly thing, wickedly sharp and emanating a thick, billowing red haze the color of viscera. It was unmistakably a weapon befitting a god, and it made something deep inside you want to turn tail and run. But you knew running would be fruitless - all it would earn you was a head-sized loss of weight between your shoulders.

 At once, the both of you moved slowly, following a wide circle, two shadowy beasts in the fading dusk searching for weaknesses and flaws. All of your training and wisdom told you to wait, let Ares come to you and make the first move. But you weren’t sure your reactive way of fighting would hold up against someone of his calibre. As Ares had implied, he was no mortal, and you could only imagine the horrible strength and skill behind his blade.

Ares shattered the heavy stillness abruptly, darting forward and making a low arcing swing up toward you. There was no hesitation behind the blow and you had the feeling if you hadn’t stopped it with your blade, his falcata would have carved a clean line into your torso. Ares may have promised not to kill you, but he wasn’t above grievously injuring you. He gave you little time to think on his intentions, however, another strike quickly following when you knocked his sword aside.

You caught that swing as well, on your shield this time, and your arm stung from the force that rang through it. Blow after blow rained down on you, forcing you on the defensive almost constantly, and even then, many near misses made you tense and wide-eyed. Eventually, you found some rhythm to his assault, and Ares even paused, granting you a scant few seconds to breathe and think. Still, you needed to analyze what you learned quickly - your enduring method of fighting wouldn’t suit well against his relentless onslaught. You had fought aggressive attackers in the past, but their strength and ferocity paled compared to Ares.

Eyes flashing to and fro, following the tuck and arc of his weapon, at the same time searching for openings, you readied to strike. You would need to be swift, perfect in your timing, and hold back nothing if you wanted any hope of breaching his flurry of blows. You took your chance when his fuming blade glanced off your shield at just the right angle to slide away, instead of adding more to the numbness in your shield arm. Dipping down, you swept your own blade under his arm and up. The metal scraped past one of his pauldrons and up, and your eyes shot wider when the tip of the blade reached out towards Ares’ face.

A swift kick pushed you back, leaving you winded, and you looked back up quickly. Ares was standing in place, a small distance away, but close enough to observe small details. His blade upheld in one hand, smoking menacingly, he lifted his free hand to his cheek, brushing away the slick of blood oozing from a diagonal cut across his cheek.Your heart fell at the sight of how little damage you had done. After all that time, you had given him what was barely more than what a mortal mine might suffer from a shaving accident. It was an ill omen when you were so used to your blade striking true and dispatching opponents in only a few strokes.

“Oh, what a splendid surprise.” Your blood may as well have turned to ice. Not at Ares’ words, but his tone.

Beneath the refined and formal speech, something almost excited could be heard. You had the sudden dreadful feeling that indulging the God of War’s little game had been a terrible mistake - even if  there was no other choice. Excitement was a chilling thing to hear from a being who adored violence and death. You had expected anger, perhaps, or bitterness that a mortal had drawn blood against him. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock he liked to bleed as much as he liked to bleed others.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, little owl. Such skill seems wasted protecting others, do you not think so?” Ares asked, the hint of excitement vanished.

An indignation bubbled up beneath your dread, understanding Ares had meant your talents better suited to bloody slaughter and resenting that notion. You bristled, snapping back at him. “If I agreed, I would have served from the start, wouldn’t I?”

Ares ignored your response, as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen more than enough, little owl. Our duel shall come to an end now,” he declared confidently. Again resentment and terror warred with one another within you.

When Ares bolted forward again, you barely thrust out your sword in time and turned his strike aside. The eerie cloud emanating from the blade seemed to have increased, tendrils of it whipping about, framing Ares ominously and obscuring your vision here and there.  He didn’t stop at a single blow, striking out again and again as before, but with much more strength behind the attacks. The thought that your weapon and shield or arms might shatter from the force if things kept up flitted through your mind, distracting you for the barest moment.

Ares’ blade flashed forward, and your shield was thrust away, spinning through the air before crashing down and clattering to the ground. In a lightning quick motion, before you could bring your blade in to force his falcata away, the edge was leveled to your throat. You fell deathly still, the icy blade faintly touching your skin. One false move or a twitch of Ares’ wrist and all would be done.

The war god moved closer, grabbing your sword hand cruelly and twisting your blade from your fist. The hand that had disarmed you snapped to your head, grabbing a fistful of hair at the root and making you hiss. He drew your head back and the painful pinch of his blade scarcely cutting your skin made your pulse quicken. A warm trickle crept down your skin. Held between Ares’ hand and his blade, you dared not even breathe too deeply, so close were you to both.

Burning crimson watched you keenly, blazing with triumph and thet still unquenchable lust for blood. The blood you seeping from the shallow cut on your throat encouraged that bloodlust to greater heights rather than sate it. The thought made the space between you and the god feel heavy, airless.

“You fought magnificently, little owl. A far greater challenge even than I had foreseen,” Ares praised, not bothering to draw his weapon back. The tension hanging in the air, in fact, seemed thoroughly amusing to him, alluring even. You gathered all the resolve you possessed, fighting to glare defiantly at him. There was no room to show weakness. “How lovely that look suits you. Fearful, yet masked in defiance, even in the very face of death,” he drawled. You wondered if the god enjoyed his own voice as much as he enjoyed bloodshedl. “Do you believe me a liar?” Ares asked coolly after a moment of unsettling silence.

“I-” you opened your mouth intending to disagree, to ensure him you believed him - even if you didn’t trust him in the slightest -, but something stopped you. “Yes.” As the word escaped, you cursed yourself.

To your surprise, Ares’ proud smile grew. “Such an unwise thing to say,” he mused, “Are you trying to provoke me, now, little owl?” he asked nonchalantly, applying the scantest amount more pressure to his haze billowing blade. You winced, but quickly corrected your expression until your focus was on Ares once more. “No matter, our duel is over. Now comes time to take what I deem ample compensation for my victory.” At last, Ares drew back and took his falcata with him, and you could breathe again.

The start of a cold sweat broke out on your skin, and you felt clammy, except for the hot, sticky trickle drying on your neck. You swallowed thickly, willing your tongue to obey you, and spoke again after a moment of recovery. “So, what do you want? Out with it.” you pressed, perhaps too demandingly for one whom had been in your previous position. Yet with the blade no longer threatening to carve your throat open, you couldn’t help the annoyance and unease that crept into you.

“Tread carefully, little owl. I spared you before,” Ares reminded you casually, though the sharp warning edge suffused his words. He would take your insolence only so far. “Continue to disrespect me and I shall take your words as invitation to grant you a most painful end.” He paused, slipping his dark blade back where it belonged, before turning to you. “As the spoils of my victory, this ought to suffice.”

In an instant, so quick you had no time to wonder what had come over him, Ares was upon you again. His hand, having previously disengaged when he took his weapon away, returned, entangling itself in your hair again and forcing you to remain still. Before you knew it, Ares stepped uncomfortably close, bowing his head and slashing his lips across yours in a kiss that was neither delicate nor considerate. It was a kiss fueled by strength, full of teeth and heat that left you in a stupor.

Ares didn’t bother with the tedious task of coaxing your lips open with his tongue, choosing to bite down viciously, and blood oozed out to meet him. It slicked his teeth and tongue and your mouth fell open in a gasp of pain, and Ares thrust his tongue into your mouth.  It swept along your teeth for a moment, before wrapping around your own and fighting it into submission. A heady metallic taste washed over you as you futilely tried to win the war of flesh. Blood. Your blood. Mixed with the coppery flavor was something more subtle, spicy and earthy at once.

When Ares relented and pulled away, you strove for breath, the taste of him and your blood lingering in your mouth. But he had only begun, giving you little time to recover. You had long enough to question why you had kissed him back - or had you been trying to fight him off? - before he jerked your head back and inclined his faced further. His lips, hot and the barest bit sticky, met the curve of your throat. He swept down your skin, leaving angry bite marks and blotches in his wake, until he was nestled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unprotected by armor and bared by your tunic.

He bit down again. Harder than before, and his teeth sank into you, another rush of blood welling up.You couldn’t control the pained cry that burst from your lips. You were used to injuries from training or battle, yet hardly in such sensitive places, and almost never from someone’s teeth. It burned when Ares lapped greedily at the wound and you hissed. His free hand had curled behind you at some time you hadn’t noticed, pressing you forward, the unyielding planes of his chest plate and pauldrons digging into you uncomfortable.

A new sensation was blossoming beneath the pain, one that should have been utterly foreign and unthinkable, given the brutality Ares was treating you with. Maybe it was the burning, hungry expression in Ares' eyes as he looked up from your skin, lips tinged red. Or maybe it was the crushing embrace he held you trapped in. Or maybe the way he held you utterly compliant and vulnerable in his grasp. Or maybe it was all of those things combined that made heat fill you from your core and pool between your legs. A dangerous, confused lust was rising - one it would have been wiser to reject.

“Such splendid sounds, little owl,” Ares said, his voice lower, a wild delight tinging it. “I desire to hear more. Do not disappoint me.”

With a rough push, your feet left the ground, and you tumbled backward away from Ares’ grip, too startled and dazed from the confounding feeling brewing in your belly and the painful throbbing in your lip and shoulder to catch yourself in time. You grimaced when you met the ground, making to prop yourself up. But Ares followed you, shoving you down completely and pinning you there. Again, his armor prodded uncomfortably at you. Past the pleated leather folds attached to the armor torso, something still distinctly hard, but much warmer prodded at you as well.

When large hands groped at your tunic -  somehow both callous and perfect - some degree of sense insisted you stop him. But others argued with it. They insisted there was no point, this was the spoils Ares chose to claim. You wouldn’t be able to stop him if you tried. One devilish voice even craved more. Your internal debate crashed to a halt when Ares jerked your tunic down, the faint sound of fabric ripping lost to you. His lips fell upon your skin again where the fabric fell away, biting and sucking like he was trying to devour you. Many of them stung, not all as harsh as the bite to your shoulder, but several more drawing blood or leaving the areas soon to bruise, painting your skin in garish colors.

More pained sounds left your lips, gasps and whimpers and groans, though mixing more steadily into them were noises that belied some twisted pleasure. A hiss that became a moan. A gasp that turned into something breathy and thick. Something was stirring more and more hotly within you, transforming pain into a muted pleasure and adding fuel to the embers smoldering between your legs and in your belly.

Ares’ hands were as greedy as his lips, groping and kneading unmarred skin, roughly grabbing at your chest, pinching your nipples and making you cry out pitifully. Before long, he had covered your torso, shoulders, and neck in darkening bruises and blood, teeth marks and scrapes. Pulling away until he was looming over you like an ominous shadow, you could still make out the satisfied look languidly spread across his lips. His eyes seemed even more fiery, near crazed, as if he were high on your blood and pain.

“Such a careful, focused beast in the heat of battle. Now look at you, little owl, stained and trembling,” he purred, and his tongue trailed over his lips, cleaning the crimson staining them. “How beautiful a sight. The color suits you well.” He grabbed at your tunic some more, gathering the bottom around your waist, meeting the neckline he had pushed down. “As fragile and easy to see through as glass. Ought I shatter you like it, then?” Ares asked, greedily taking in the even larger expanse of flesh revealed to him. You wondered if he meant to litter the rest of you in similar marks.

Your lips parted, and you didn’t speak for a second, waiting for the mental gears to  turn. Your only choice was the illusion of it, so you may as well as pretend your answer meant something. “Break me as you please, Lord Ares,” you told him, surprised to hear how your voice sounded. Strain and breathy, and the realization strengthened the heat and wetness at your center you couldn’t deny, likely plain to Ares’ eyes with your tunic no longer guarding it.

“How bold a choice of words, little owl.” Ares sounded pleased, possibly having expected you to retort defiantly, or have no words at all. Yet you had indulged his words instead. He trailed a thick finger gingerly over your throat, tracing over your racing pulse. “It would thrill me so to watch the life bleed from you.” You believed him completely. There was no denying in different circumstances Ares would revel in your death. “Alas, I shall have to make do sheathing a different blade within your supple flesh.”

A hint of excited impatience shone through as Ares sat back on his knees, leaving you to lie waiting in the dirt for what he would do next. With an iron grip, he grabbed your thighs, lifting them both off the ground and splaying them over his pauldrons, on either side of the crossed blades on his back. The cold touch of his armor on your overheated, abused skin made you shudder, and you watched as he lifted the lappets of the armor.  

Your eyes lingered on what had thrust against you from behind layers of leather before, and you swallowed nervously. Ares was endowed impressively and in the embrace of a gentle lover that might promise a minor discomfort, but pleasure overall. Ares had shown no intention to treat you gently though - the ache and throb from the aftermath of his attention reinforced that - and you were under no illusion he was going to change that.

The new hesitation must have shown in your expression, a dangerous thrill creeping onto Ares’ own face as he brought the head of his cock to your folds. You thanked the stars that his brutal attentions had somehow elicited a perverse hunger from you, soaking your core. Though you imagined he would have fucked you raw whether or not you were wet. In fact, he might have enjoyed it more that way. Fortunately, his dick slipped slickly between your lips, gathering some of your wetness and pushing against your slit.

Ares didn’t take his time entering you, nor savor the moment, bucking his hips forward and splitting your cunt wide. You arched your back stiffly and hissed, both at the awful burn from the way his cock stretched you and the surprising satisfaction from the overwhelming fullness. You drew deep breaths, trying to adjust to the thick intrusion, fighting the pathetic whines that threatened to spill out.

Ares didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, rutting harshly against you, calloused hands digging roughly into your thighs. He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half, far enough a tendril of his silvery white hair brushed against your stomach, making your skin jump. The stretch ached to be sure - it would have even if Ares had been more thoughtful - but caught up in whatever perverse mood electrified the moment, there was pleasure bleeding into the pain.

Pleasure from the way he filled you so completely, creating a delicious friction that made your gut heat and tense. Pleasure from the rough slant of his hips against yours and his balls slapping your ass. Pleasure from the renewed vigor and sting of his lips and teeth attacking your neglected skin once more. It was agonizing and mindnumbing and enjoyable in a way you couldn’t have had any hope of explaining, at least not in a right sense of mind.

Each hard rock of his hips and searing puff of breath against your skin wore away at what little pride you retained, if you could claim to have any scrap left, looking such a mess. You might regret the memory later, but in the heat of the moment, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts. There was only room to try and enjoy what Ares had claimed as his reward.

As your dignity shattered and disintegrated like dust, the heat of your body and between your thighs grew, until you cried out into the air, the pleasure finally rising high enough to meet the pain and break loose from your throat between whines and winces. One loud cry that twisted and broke from another especially vicious bite must have gotten to Ares, eliciting an answering sound that was deep and primal.

Continuing to pound into your cunt, Ares looked up from his savagery of your skin, eyes glittering with amsement and lust of multiple kinds. His hot breath rolled over your bruised chest and his silky words rumbled over you. “You ought to thank me for my mercy,” he growled, and amidst the pain and pleasure you laughed to yourself. Mercy for a war god amounted simply to not killing you it seemed, even if the alternative was marking your body viciously and claiming it for himself. “Go on, then, little owl,” he compelled you, puncutating his words with a harder buck of his hips that left made you shout.

You opened your mouth, at first only pants and huffs and whimpers broke away. You gathered the words on your tongue he demanded of you. “Th-thank...aah...thank you, Lord Ares!” you cried out, surprisingly yourself. “Thank you f-for sparing me.”

He seemed satisfied with you pitiful answer, shaky and broken as it was, though he remained close to your skin. His pace grew stronger, faster, and he drew his tongue over some of the more bloody marks he’d left behind, coating his tongue again in your essence. His eyes swept hotly over his handiwork, bordering on frenzied. “Is it not such a wondrous feeling, to break bleed so, little owl?”

The smooth, husky tone of his voice, though it spoke such sick words - words you would have rejected in another setting - drove your own fervor higher, the molten spring of tension in your abdomen coming to the edge of its breaking point. You responded without hesitation, mind bent only on the promised releasen. “Yes, yes, my Lord!”

No more words fell between the two of you then, only the primal symphony of moans, grunts, groans, and gasps, enough to be heard by any soul unfortunate enough to be passing nearby. You hadn’t thought Ares’ thrusts could become any crueler, but as he chased and neared his own release, they did, until each thrust stung, hurting almost more than they pleased. His hands still clenched around your thighs and you could only imagine the intensity of the bruises that would be left behind - perhaps even worse than the many peppering your neck and chest and torso.

Despite the pain, your cunt squeezed around him, fluttering erratically as you danced on that edge so, so close. Until at last, it burst. But not before Ares finished with a sound so dark and heavy and alluring it could be called inhuman. Your walls embraced him even tighter as his cum filled you to overflowing, hot and wet, and you screamed and cried into the darkness of evening that had taken over.

When all was still at last, youtruly began to feel the extent of the damage Ares had done. He didn’t remain atop you much longer, not seeming to need to catch his breath, and when he pulled out of you, you shuddered, feeling sore and empty. Already tired before Ares had sought you out, and even more so after your combat, you were completely and utterly exhausted. Lying there, each pound of your heart making the bites and bruises pound along with it, you wondered if passing out in the dirt was a viable option.

Ares didn’t concern himself with your thoughts, however, or whatever it was you intended to do now that he was finished with you - for now at least. He just looked down at you, tucking himself back beneath the lappets of his armor and looking no worse for the wear. “Farewell, little owl. Do take care. And consider what I have said,” he began. “Your talents ought be used for something far more satisfying.”

You didn’t answer, letting your eyelids slide closed for a minute. When you opened them again, you were alone and the air was still and silent. You begrudgingly sat up, preparing to tackle the ordeal of standing and making the rest of your way home and to your bed. You wondered how you were going to explain your state to your fellows the following day.

#writing #fanfic #areas #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday #update #weekly #request #anon request #tw: blood #tw: dubious consent

[jpat82]

Out Of Place

@m-a-t-91 requested 5 & 6 with Steve.

5.)  is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

6.) wow, I can't believe I said that out loud. I'm.. im gonna go die of embarrassment.

M-a-t-91

Missions, most the time they were cut and dry. Go in, fight the enemy, do what needed to be done. Whether it was saving people, bring down bad people, and then go home, covered in new bruises and cuts. Tonight was different, there would be no iron suits, or spangly uniforms. Tonight, you had to dress up to gain entry so you bring down a computer system.

Your heels echoed the hall of high end hotel, just the part you had to play. While you would rather be dressed in your normal attire tonight you were dressed to kill. You had to exude wealth, poshness, as you walked down the hall to the elevator. You held your head high, hair pinned up to precision, sultry makeup to go with sexy tight black dress you were wearing.

As the elevator descended you put the com unit in your ear, tapping on it to make sure it was in and on.

“It’s not a mic.” Sam stated in your ear his words dripping the sarcasm.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just want to make sure you dingus’s were awake.” You retorted, exiting the elevator cab as the doors rolled open.

You walked out to the ballroom that was attached to the hotel you were staying in. People milling about, men dressed in black suit, women looking beautiful in their gowns. The over head lights were dimmed down, candle holders on every table lit. It was elegant, black sleek tables, champagne on every plater, silver plates. Everything was perfect and beautiful, your nerves were on high alert as you walked over to the bar and ordered your drink.

“Come on, y/n, you look stiff and out of place.” Natasha chuckled in your ear. This was normally her job, being all sexy, however she broke her leg and couldn’t exactly pull off the look that made men weak at the knees.

“I am out place.” You hissed, covering your face with your hand as you pretended to fix a loose strand of hair.

“Well don’t act like it at least!” She snapped back.

You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes, taking the glass full of amber liquid. You turned to survey the packed room, slowly swirling your drink with tiny black straw that was placed in it. You took a deep breath, tryin to decide the best course of action. You knew the man that had the files you needed was supposed to be here, and you also knew that he always had that thumb drive on him.

Finding him was the key, Lucas Doutry, a plump old bastard with a shock of white hair. He was wealthy, like Tony Stark wealthy, and just like your Avenger companion like to host regular parties. Where as Tony’s parties were always filled loud music and the air was jovial, this was very tense, and houty touty. God you hated this.

“See ‘im yet?” Bucky’s Brooklyn draw came through your ear.

“No.” You whispered, taking another sip from your drink trying not to look so obvious.

“Please tell me you are casually glancing around, not standing next to the bar doing a sweep.” Natasha asked, annoyance in her voice. When you didn’t respond right away you heard her let out exasperated sigh. “Alright, we’re sending in back up.”

“Guys I don’t need back up.” You growled slowly pulling yourself away from the bar.

You walked the line of the wall, keeping your eyes trained on the crowd. You could feel you frustration starting to bubble up, the room was beginning to get warm. You distracted yourself with another sip and almost choked.

Steve slowly made his way through the sea of people, his crystal blue eyes staring straight at you. His hair was combed back, and his beard neatly trimmed. The suit he wore looked like it was tailored just for him. You could feel your face flush up, as he smiled at you.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked, sticking his elbow out, you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

“Uh, sure?” You responded, feeling slightly awkward.

“Smooth, y/n.” Sam laughed in your ear, as you took Steve’s arm and followed him out to the dance floor.

Steve pulled you close to him, his eyes locked onto yours. His slid an arm around your waist, his hand gently resting on the small of your back. Your eyes dropped down as you could feel heat rushing to your face. Sure you had been this close to the Captain but only in training fights, not dancing with him. This was not going to help the small crush you had on him.

“You look nice.” He said, slowly you lifted your gaze back to him.

“No, she looks sexy as hell.” Natasha chuckled darkly. “have you seen the plunging neck line on that dress?”

Steve’s gaze dropped for a brief second and you could feel your face flush up even more. You made a mental note to smack that red head next chance you got. The tempo of the music change, and Steve spun you to face away from him. He pulled you gently back to him, his hips moving with yours.

“Do you see our target?” He asked, looking down at your shoulder, acting entranced by being so close to you. This gave you an opportunity to look around the room with out looking like a sore thumb.

“No.” You breathed, Steve’s hands resting on your hips as you continued with your movements before he spun you back to face him. He pulled you flush up against his body this time, faces inches from each other.

“Is that a gun in pocket or are you just really happy to see me?” You whispered feeling a bolder, a slow smirk pulling at the corner of you mouth. Steve grinned down at you, his eyes flicked to your lips for a moment before traveling back up your face.

“Woah!! What is going on in there?” Sam called out over the com.

“About damn time.” Bucky laughed, you could feel the warmness crawl back up your face as your eyes went wide.

“Wow, I can’t believe I said that out loud! I’m.. I’m going to go die of embarrassment.” You stated as Steve bit his bottom lip throughly amused at your plight.

“It could be worse.” Steve said softly, holding you close as you both continued to sway to the music.

“I just opened my mouth and stuck my foot in it and the team heard.” You retorted.

“You could of said it to Bucky.” Steve shot back.

“Dude, low blow!” Bucky snarked.

“You’re right, that’s much worse.” You chuckled, Steve cupped your cheek with his hand and gently rubbed his thumb over your lips.

“Alright love birds, we’re pulling you out, the guys a no show. Tony just confirmed.” Natasha chuckled.

Steve pulled the com unit out of your ear as he did the same to himself before pulling you into him one last time. He leaned down and kissed you, before grabbing your hand and leading you away from the dance floor.

“Wanna go get a bite?”

@kitkatkl @octobermermaid @ajosieface @10robins @instantnoodlese @patzammit

@devilbat

#steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america xyou