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comet-forgot-you · 4 months

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heyy idk if you're taking requests, but could you write River x reader where she's more dominant?? and maybe reader is more feminine?? I'm obsessed with River...

ofc bae, kinda hard to write for fem reader bc im more masc, so if this is bad im so sorry :[

remember

dealer!river x fem!reader

summary: river loves leaving you hanging, but she just thinks you’re so hot :(

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, strap use, top!river, orgasm denial, marijuana use, fingering, oral, teasing, river takes a picture, rivers a lil mean. like a lot a little. lots of cursing idk, lmk if theres more! do not repost this work as your own.

a/n: this took me so long to write lol, im sorry anon 😭. i kinda dont like this, i tried im sorry. anyway i kept accidentally writing amber instead of river and i literally don’t know why. enjoy :D

the air of river’s room was humid, the sounds of you panting being the only thing heard over the blaring music of the ongoing party outside of the room was the sounds of your pants and river’s endless remarks.

“gonna cum? already? we haven’t even been here that long,” her strap is bottomed out in you as she whispers the words mockingly in your ear. you whine against her jaw, hips struggling to keep up with the quick pace river had set.

"m' sorry," your words are slurred, thoughts jumbled together, the only thing the actually makes sense in the moment is river.

river chuckles, pulling back to get a better look at you. "what? my cock making you feels so good you can't even speak properly?" she asks mockingly, rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“riv.. please lemme,” your sentence is cut off by a shaky exhale. “lemme cum. please, riv.” a knock comes from the door and you hold back the cry that threatens to escape as river halts her movements and pushes herself off of you.

“what?” she yells, head snapping to the door. she glances down at you, your eyes brimming with tears, hips trying to grind down on the strap still nestled inside of you.

“you have a client,” a voice yells from the other side. river holds your hips down, your head shaking “no”

you knew how this would play out. river would be a huge fucking tease all night, hands crawling up the skirt she picked out, whispering dirty words in your ears, kisses on all the spots she knew drove you insane. you knew that if you didnt cum now, you wouldn’t until everyone left.

“please, river, don’t- fuck,” river’s thrust into you, your own moan cuts your words off.

“i’ll be right there,” she yells back. your eyes widen and river’s lips curl up into a mocking smile. “be a good girl, yeah? get dressed and join the party,” she mumbles. she pulls out of you and you whimper out at the emptiness.

“riv,” you whine her name, hoping to draw her back in. her eyes never leave yours, that stupid smile doesnt leave as she tucks the strap back into her pants.

she leans down, pressing kisses from your thighs to your jaw. “cmon, baby, dont wanna make the customer wait forever now, do we?” she pulls back slightly, her face so close to yours, you want nothing more than to kiss her. she grabs something off of her bed, and once she starts strapping it to your thigh, you know what shes about to ask you. “hold this for me, hmm?” its not really a question, though. you know she’ll tuck the lighter into the thigh garter whether or not you say yes or no.

shes off of you in seconds, heading to the door and looking back at you with that stupid smile. you groan. god was it going to be a long night.

—

river’s endless teasing and “innocent” words had you dripping. the cotton covering your cunt was stuck to your folds. you hated how much of a tease she was. every single movement she made had your head spinning with want.

even now as you sat on the couch, room filled with guards that were there solely to make sure things didnt go south, your legs draped across river’s thighs, she was still teasing you. hands trailing against the soft fat of your thighs, that pit in your stomach had yet to cool down, there was no way you could wait until the end of the night for her to fuck you.

river reaches into her pocket, taking out a small cigarette case she put joints in instead. she looks at you for what feels like the first time since you left her room. “you got a light, baby?” its a dumb question, really. she knew you had one, after all, she was the one who had tucked it into the thigh garter. you nod and river wastes no time sneaking her hand under your skirt to fish the lighter out.

she acts as if there werent eyes on her at all times. she brushes against your clothed cunt and it takes everything in you not to whimper at the feeling. she quickly grabs the lighter before removing her hand and lighting the joint hanging loosely from her lips.

you cant focus on the words she says to the client, only on the movements she makes. the way her jaw flexes as she clenches when the man makes a stupid remark, the way she stares him down like hes nothing, like he cant do anything. everything about her radiates so much power and confidence.

as soon as the guy leaves, you press yourself up against river, hand on her thigh as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “need you s’ bad, mamas. need you t’ fill me up again. please? i’ll be so good i promise.” your words are filthy, but every word was the truth. you knew exactly what buttons to push to make river fold. you knew that if you kissed her jaw, or left marks across her neck, she’d do anything you asked of her. so you did exactly that. holding her jaw with your free hand, you leave a cluster of red marks that would soon bloom to a shade of purple. river grips your thigh, a rush of hear spreading throughout both of your bodies.

“god, y’know just how to rile me up, dont you. so fuckin’ needy.” you smile against her neck.

“cant help it, mamas,” you mumble. the name makes her close her mouth to prevent the groan that threatens to escape. but you feel the vibrations against your lips. she stands, guiding you out of the room, leading you through the crowded hallways to her room.

your back is against the door in an instant, her lips against yours as she tries to undo the belt around her waist with one hand, her other eagerly groping at your tit. you whine at her neediness, it matches your own and your hands fly to the belt to try and help her. your kisses are so messy and hungry, its hard to think about much of anything else. you manage to unbuckle the belt and slide her pants off. she makes quick work of undressing you, guiding the two of you to her bed. her strap pressed against your clothed cunt and your moaning against her lips.

“fuck, river please just,” you groan, arching up into her as her lips attach to your nipple, “jus’ fuck me, mamas please. need you t’ fill me up,” you a whining mess. amber pulls your soaked panties down your legs before parting your legs to look at the mess between your thighs.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet, y/n. were you that fucking needy for me?” you whine, trying to close your legs, but her hands keep them spread. “nuh-uh, you don’t get to hide it now. not when you begged me to fuck you in front of my guys,” she sounds so mean, you swallow thickly, worried you had genuinely upset her. but the way she wraps her lips around your throbbing clit, you know its not genuine. your moans echo off of the walls, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds, hyperaware of the crowd of people just outside of the doors.

two of her fingers sink into your cunt, her other hand pulling your hand away from your mouth. “don’t do that, let them all hear how good im fucking you. let em know you’re mine.” she laces her fingers with yours, her lips returning to wrap around your clit. her fingers curl up into your cunt and your fingers lace into her hair.

“fuck, river!” your hips are bucking up into her her warm mouth. “gon’ cum, you feel so good.” she squeezes your hand, and your gushing around her fingers. she’s quick to lap up your juices before standing to tower over you. she presses her fingers against your lips and you take them in your mouth to suck your juices off of them. shes rolling your nipples between her fingers, her strap prodding at your entrance. you buck against it, your cunt sensitive after the orgasm river had just given you.

“need you to fill me up river,” her voice is mocking your previous words. “need you so bad, god im just such a fucking slut i just cant wait for you to fill me up,” her words cause tears to prickle in your eyes. did you really sound like that? were you really that needy? her strap pushes into you, her lips wrapping around the plush of your tits to leave marks that she’d be taking so many pictures of later. the familiar stretch of your cunt has any thoughts of insecurity rushing out of your mind in an instant.

“riv,” you whine out at her slow pace.

“riv,” she mocks in a high pitched voice. “what is it baby? not enough for your needy cunt? need me to be pounding into just to be satisfied?” your eyes roll back as she bottoms out. a tear slides down your face. you cant tell if its from the pleasure or from her words. river had never been this.. mean before. you didnt mind, the pit in your stomach growing with every word.

river’s movements speed up. her strap fills you up so good, hitting spots inside of you that have you seeing stars. her mouth feels so good against your body, her hands keeping your thighs parted. “so fucking pretty,” she groans against your jaw, her breathing heavy against your skin.

“feels s’ good mamas, fuck,” your thighs shake against her hands, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every single move river makes.

“yeah? gonna cum again? so fuckin,” she shudders when your fingers brush against her nipples, “fuck, so fucking needy. this cunt is practically sucking me in, shit,” she exhales sharply against your skin. you can tell she’s close to hitting her own high with the way her thrusts get sloppier and her breathing gets shakier

“fuck, river,” your moans are loud.

“c’mon, cum for me, go on,” your high hits just as river’s does. her strap stuffed so deep inside of you, “did s’ good,” she mumbles against your ear. “so fuckin good, shit,” shes rolling her hips against yours, trying to make both of your highs last a little longer. she lifts herself off of you, admiring the sight beneath her. “fuck,” she groans lowly.

she reaches for her phone off of the night stand, snapping a picture of you in your fucked out state. “so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

#river all souls #river x reader #mikey madison #wlw smut #mikey madison x reader #all souls #all souls movie #i want river #river #all souls smut #river smut

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ghost-in-a-flowercrown · 2 months

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my extremely disorganized welcome home theory!!!

this may sound crazy but please hear me out

there are three main points to this, all of which ill elaborate on under the cut!

one of the companies, either marlo or playfellow workshop, clearly tried to make a lot of changes to the show. this includes heavy merchandising, forcing julie/frank to be read as a couple, and cutting eddie from the show.

i think that once a character no longer appears on the air, they are forced into a sort of subliminal bond with their own home, isolating them and making them essentially unable to leave. we see this with eddie's situation.

if all of this is true, i may have a very good idea for the direction in which the story of welcome home will lead.

quick disclaimer beforehand : obviously, our knowledge on this is constantly growing and expanding! this is not my "entire opinion" on the story nor do i think this is the cold hard truth. these are simply my ideas!

in general, i think the idea of the offness coming from anything internal of the show , like the characters or home, is a far stretch .. more likely, it's coming from the people making the show itself.

my theory is that either playfellow workshop or marlo was taking control of the show , probably towards the end of its run, and making massive changes in the interest of maximizing profit. first of all the commercials clips feel off in and of themselves to me, because we can see that they literally partnered with anything in order to sell it. this is most clearly Weird in the sleeping pills wally clip, but also all over - of course this could just be that it was a popular show and wanted to make bank, but personally i think it was one of the companies pushing for more brand deals and more merchandise and more money.

this, of course, leads directly into the eddie/frank situation. as many different people have stated, this was the 1970s, and if there was any ability in the show for them to be read as a couple this could get a ton of backlash. i'm willing to bet that the company tried first of all to push julie/frank to be more easily read as a couple, then later deciding on either diminishing eddie's role a TON or deleting him completely.

and like, think about it. unfortunately, most of the characters don't really harbor any huge friendship towards him, at least not in the clips we've seen. while having positive relations with poppy, julie, frank and wally, he doesn't have as much as an outright "gimmick" or thing to sell as the others.

julie's excitable, sally's theatrical, frank's stubborn, howdy's charismatic, barnaby's funny, poppy's sweet, wally's reserved but polite, and eddie. "talks a lot". if you're an executive and you're going to cut one character from a show, especially in the interest of Not looking like theres Anything gay in your show, which would you choose?

NOW for the second part:

my believe about home, and furthermore all the homes in the series - but more directly Home - is that i think they act as sort of devices that the company can use to manipulate the characters. my theory about the eddie situation in the recent update is that it takes place in the midst of when the company was attempting to cut him from the show.

and when we see eddie in the midst of his breakdown, he's VERY tied to the post office (his home basically). he's isolated and literally states at a point during it that he assumes everyone's outside and playing in the snow, but never makes any attempt to go out and check - as if it doesn't even cross his mind. he expresses some kind of paranoid need to stay at the post office and not leave, even for a moment, which he also talks about in the videos.

when he finally DOES leave for the party, (which, btw, he only does because sally literally grabbed him and brought him there) , he starts seeing all the awful shit he sees (as we know) . INCLUDING HOME. and towards the end of it, all he says to frank is that he wants to go [ to his ] home.

what does all this mean??? im so glad u asked. basically i think that creators' actions upon the show affect the world of welcome home in subliminal ways that the characters aren't directly aware of happening (until, of course, they are.) in this case, if a character is cut from the show or their screen time is limited, they experience being subliminally forced to stay in their own home. if they try to leave, they start witnessing visceral, terrifying things that they can't explain, persuading them to return back home. back where it's "safe".

wally's home in particular, i think, enforces this the most. home is sentient so the company can probably carry out their desires more directly with him than any of the other houses (which are just structures, pretty much). i DON'T think home harbors any ill will themselves, but moreso is just carrying out what "needs to be done."

more evidence for this:

this theory is also entwined with how wally interacts with us, the people on the site, because he mentions in places like the guestbook, etc that he hasn't seen other members of the neighborhood in so long. but that doesn't mean they're not there.

so if a singular being cut from the show means that they are forced to stay in their own home and not go outside, then the show being taken off the air would, in theory, mean that everyone would be forced to stay in their own homes. for decades. wally reaching out to us could very likely be a cry for help and/or last try after years of isolation. (it would also explain why he's so much more off putting/tired/different than his in-show appearances.)

one last thing!!!! i think if that's what's going, on it could explain this sentence from the summary, unchanged since the beginning. i've never really understood this line or what it could mean, but -

this is a HUGE far cry. but i think it's possible that, if i'm right, at some point down the line the characters (still in the neighborhood) will actually try to leave their homes, or they have already, which would cause the "distortion/nightmarish memory". i mean we definitely could describe eddie's hallucination(?) as that so .

yeah i hope you enjoyed 20 minutes of me rambling ... please ask questions if some (or all) of this didn't make sense cuz im not rly sure if this is coherent lol. this also isnt all the thoughts i have about this theory but this post is too long as is lol. thanks so much for reading this far if you have!!!

#i love welcome home. so much guys #welcome home #wally darling #frank frankly #julie joyful #howdy pillar #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #sally starlet #welcome home arg #welcome home theory #:3 #i really hope this made sense

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first-edition · 1 year

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Frost Bitten

Smut-day 7

Duncan vizla x reader.

Sum- You decide to surprise your husband with an early Christmas present after a day of work.

CW- smut, 18+ themes and language, p in v, dom! Duncan, window sex, age gap, short oral male receiving.”

The familiar sound of the black truck pulls into the drive way. You smile as you look out the window your husband coming home from a 3 day long work trip.

You watch as he hops out of the car holding a box and some grocery bags. He walks up the stairs seeing you waiting for him makes him smile a nod.

You run to the door opening it for you immediately wrapping your arms around his neck kissing him. He kisses you back. Trying not to drop everything hes holding.

“hold on. Hold on.” He chuckles placeing down the grocery’s.

“I’ve gotten you a present.” he says you frown as he holds out the box to you. Inside you see theres a French bulldog.

“oh!” You gasp smiling at the little thing.

“some girl was giving him away in town i know how much you like the frenchies.” He says.

You smile picking up the dog in your arms.

“what’s his name?” You ask.

“he dosnt have one.” He says.

“well rusty now you do.” You name him on the spot.

“i have a present for you as well.” You say “close your eyes, you demand he sighs and listens closing his eye as. The other is gone and concealed under the eyepatch.

You put rusty down to explore the house and pull off your shirt and take off your pants. Revealing the red and white lacy langerie set.

“okay. Open” you reply he listens

“merry Christmas Duncan.” You say the air shirt as he steps towards you his cold hands meeting your bare waist.

“fuck..” he huffs. “i-it’s not much but I wanted to surprise you with-” he cuts you off kissing you you meet his pace kissing him back. He pulls off his trench coat and boots. He pulls you up into his arms as your legs wrap around his waist.

His hands wander your waist and thigh as he sets you on the side table in front of the window. His kisses move from your lips to your neck and chest. His hand holds the back of your hand in place as he makes his way to your neck finding your sweet spot. His other hand trails to your stomach find your puss he maneuvers his fingers between your thighs only to be met with the crotchless part of the set.

He growls in your nape and pulls back for a second to take off his sweater and undo his pants. Your hands wander his chest and back keeping yourself entertained as he undresses.

His erection is sprung free to your liking you place kisses along his neck and chest hopping off the table to move to your knees meeting his dick to you face. Taking it in one hand. You begin stroking his shaft causing him you sharply inhale. Making you smirk at his reaction to you.

You open your mouth sticking out your tounge running it up the vein on his cock. Mouth fucking him.

His fingers entangle themself in your hair. As he moans under you. he’s missed you and you know it the way he touches you and lets you take over.

You can feel him twitch in your mouth before he pulls you up to him kissing you and pulling you up back onto the side table.

He enters you beginning to fuck you without warning as pornographic moans leave your mouth.

“I want to cum in your cunt not you mouth.” He growls in your ear. He pushes you down pulling your hip closer to him as he thrusts roughly into you. You grab onto the edge of the table feeling yourself clench around his dick making his moan out to you.

Your climax hits you as you arch your back.

“ah f-fuck Duncan!” You moan out as he leans do to you kissing you and mesaging your breasts over stimulating you. Arching you back changes the angle of him fucking you making him spill his cum inside your cunt.

Sloppy thrusts follow as he let you both come down from your high.

“best present ever.” He says kissing your fore head letting his hand run down the fabric once more his erection growing once more.

#duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla #duncan x reader #duncan vizla x reader smut #polar smut #polar x reader

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 7 months

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OK BUT LIKE WHY DID THEY KILL TIFF!??? or was that like their plan? Like they invited her to like making her think it was a get together or to hang out but it was actually to kill her? Did tiff do anything to make them kill her or were they just like “omg vampires! We need to get rid of them cause they’re bad!” LIKE WTF THERES SO MANY QUESTIONS and how did the fam feel to losing they’re baby??? :( can’t imagine how Paul and chrysta felt😭 ((I’m literally mad at you for killing tiff off like that tsk tsk tsk)) and who is stephs aunty???👀 or is it just a random character in the au

((Also want to know who called dibs into killing steph😈)) sorry my words are everywhere-

GIRL HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL AFTER KILLIN HER OFF

OK I WONT LEAVE YOU IN THE DARK THOUGH I PROMMI ILL SPILL EVERYTHING 🙏

So... How and why was Tiff killed?

Tiffany's death was... Partially accidental, you could say. She wasn't necessarily planned to be killed, but Stephanie, Jessie, and Meghan weren't about to go into a cave full of vampires without being prepared for the worst.

And it wasn't exactly Steph's fault either! You could say they met in the middle on the whole incident...

See, after a messy situation the night before- where Anastasia decided to take matters into her own hands on turning the three, after the night before Chris coward out on turning Steph. Anastasia, like daughter like father, introduced the gruesome side of being immortal to the three and offered them a permanent life good times and partying... You can imagine how that went.

Stephanie needed to speak to Chris, and at a time where he would be alone or... Vulnerable... Daytime. Just in case he decided she was looking like a delectable juice box LMAO.

And as much as she begged her friends that she had to do this on her own, they weren't about to leave her with TEN sleeping vampires to fend off if things went sour- and without weapons either. So, gathering up some of her aunts now very useful equipment, Stephanie and her friends went to Hudsons Bluff.

The vamps were all sound asleep, hidden away in the rafters... All but two. Chris and Chrysta were asleep on the Victorian couch, Chrysta huddled with her son snuggled in her arms, seemingly fallen asleep in a distraught position and mental place, his face hidden away in the comfort of his mother's shoulder.

Stephanie split from her two friends, who went to explore or keep lookout for any stalking vampires waiting to pounce... Bad idea.

Being the cluzt she is, Jess had gotten too close to some broken mirror shards and cut her thigh wide open- leaving a long trail of blood, the scent already wafting through the air at the second her skin split.

Tiffs her dad's daughter. The guy is the more wreckless and spunking of the coven... The one to probably be the more... Feral, less talk more killing. Who's to say his daughter isn't the same?

the smell of blood already got most of the other vampires stirring awake, but Tiff was quick to wake at the mouth watering scent, and cascaded from the rafters like a predator, making her appearance known the second she pounced for Jessie.

Steph was only seconds away from trying to wake Chris, before she immediately stepped in to sheild Jessie with herself- forgetting the stake Jess had equipped her with at her hip.

The position she fell to the ground in left the stake perched upright... And the second Steph pushed Jess out of the way, the human and vampire both hit the ground, Tiffany falling right on top of the stake... Straight through her undead heart.

The scream was one no one in that cave would forget. Especially Chrysta and Paul.

By the time all the vampires awoke to the sounding screams of both agony and terror, a dull ache in their chests, the three horrified girls had practically sprinted out of the cave.

And the first thing Paul had been met with the sight of as he hurriedly left the rafter with the rest if his coven members, was all the girls on their knees, wailing and sobbing while clinging to limp, limbs of their sister, being cradled in the arms of a distraught Chrysta, unable to tear her eyes away from the gut wrenching sight of bloody wood pierced through the pale flesh of her daughters chest, and tearing straight through her back.

As Stephanie, Jess, and Meg left into the safety of sunlight, outside the cave, the echoing sounds of heart shattering, devastated, enraged, blood curdling screams followed from the darkness of a very, distressed Paul.

(You know that scene at the end of the movie when Max finds Davids body and you can hear that little kid singing 'Cry Little Sister' IMAGINE THAT PLAYING AS PAUL HOLDS TIFFS FACE IN HIS HANDS WHILE PLEADING FOR HIS BABY TO OPEN HER EYES. IT HAS ME IN A FETAL POSTIOTION ON THE FLOOR)

Anyway, thanks fir coming to my Ted talk I sure hope i don't get beat up for this 🙂

#ask #cherry answers #cherry rambles #tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys #the lost boys #david tlb #dwayne tlb #tlb paul #the lost girls #the lost girls au #tlg #tlg au #tlb marko #tlb au

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himbos-hotline · 9 months

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“i can't hide from you like i hide from myself” for golden lovers

You know the distance never made a difference to me

Word count: 2,310 words Ship: Golden Lovers Characters: Kota Ibushi [the real thing, not the ghost this time!], Kenny Omega, Matt and Nick Jackson Triggers: Blood, Kenny has a very breif panic attack but its more implied. Authors note: my first time writing golden lovers. The second part of a request called: Angel to me // Watashi ni totte tenshi. I've never written Kota before as a human being but I think I did pretty well. I tried. They rreunite after a match before blood and guts but theres still a mention of blood. Theres also just a passing mention of hangman. Just some golden lovers fluff thats somehow 2000 words. READ ON AO3

Kenny does the one thing he hates doing, he curls into himself like a dying deer and bleeds into the concrete between his feet, tracing how the silver stars twitch and shimmer in the sky, they highlight the outline of the blood splatter like they're holding something precious, like they're trying to make Kenny's pain beautiful.

There's something about tasting his own blood that makes his stomach feel weird. The bitter twist in his throat when it slides slowly from a split lip or cracked nose, still body-warm and stinging as it trails down his skin, flushed and exhausted until it collects in his mouth like a waterfall dipping between rocks, collecting against his teeth until he swallows and the blood becomes cold and clammy in his mouth. It stains his teeth an imperfect pink and his throat burns at the coppery taste. He washes his mouth out with water and stares as it falls away in clumps; small, starkly red lines, sometimes that's all he has to show what he's done.

Just blood on his skin and the taste of copper in his mouth. Kenny can almost taste the blood, if he focuses hard enough. He rolls his tongue against his teeth and he can almost picture the blood clots sitting curled on his tongue, pressing against the back of his teeth as he swallows and pushes them away down his throat. His lip stings dully, the healing cut still fresh and open to the cold air backstage.

Matt's staring at him from the corner of heavy-set brown eyes, Kenny can feel it more than he sees it. Nick slumped against his brother's side, using a wet cloth to stroke Matt's blood off from behind his ear and he's humming, voice trembling a little on the down notes. Kenny knows Nick isn't being mean to but the rough notes feel like barbed wire wrapping around his brain, stabbing and clinging against the soft mushy texture until pain decorates itself around Kenny's temples, he bites his lips and sighs, finally dragging his eyes off the floor and over towards the brothers.

"Nicky, could you stop making that stupid sound please?" Kenny asks, voice rough between gritted teeth, Nick presses his lips together and returns his attention back to trying his best to clean away the blood under Matt's nails, he stares down at his brother's hands and scowls. "cmon Nick don't be like that."

"Like what?" Nick mumbles, eyes staring deeply into Kenny's, he raises one eyebrow when Kenny rolls his wrist like he's expecting Nick to fill in the blanks. "I'm just trying to help because you cost us the match!" Kenny winces a little, watches how Nick grips at the damp washcloth between scuffed knuckles. "matts bleeding because you and adam what? had another argument?" Matt rests his hand against Nicks shoulder, squeezing it softly and he shakes his head and Kenny watches from behind a wall of sweaty curls as Nick deflaits and shrinks back into himself. "whatever."

"we didn't have an argument, look I’m not happy about Matt or me being hurt either Nick but you can't take it out on me!" Kenny rests his fingers between his chest, pressing deeply into the fabric of his shirt with raised eyebrows. "hangers as much as to blame as I am for the bloodshed, afterall he's the one that got involved with Mox in the first place." Kenny darts his tongue across his bottom lip, pressing at the blood that clots at the corner of the wound.

"He wanted the title." Matt mumbles as he pushes himself off the floor to slump into the couch, legs drawn close under his lap as he fiddles with his shoelaces. Kenny listens to the sound of the laces rubbing against the texture of the shoe and winces. "Afterall..." he gestures at Kenny vaguely with a distracted hand. "that's all you want..."

Kenny stares at Matt and Matt stares back, watching emotion swirl in the blue of Kenny's eyes. He can almost picture the things going through Kenny's head and Matt swallows a little when Kenny shifts in his chair, rising to his feet slow enough so his knees don't pop. "You always want gold Kenny- you wanted that seven match for the trios titles and you went after title and title here and tna and..." Matt raises a hand to his ear, twirling a lock of hair around his finger.

"what?" Kenny mumbles, confused at first by Matts sudden outburst before anger licks flames through his brain and anger twists up his spine. His muscles feel tight and knotted against his bones and he stares at Matt with annoyance swirling around the pupils of his eyes. "What's wrong Matt, upset that you're never gonna make it as anything more than a tag wrestler?" Kenny isn't sure where the angry edge to his voice is coming from but it feels right to allow it to twist its way through his words. "Is that why you're upset we lost the match and you ate the pin? because it showed that your little brother is better than you? maybe if you learned to wrestle better we wouldn't have lost, why do you have to be such a failure Matthew?"

Matt's lips twist into something sour and he pushes himself up the couch, glares at Kenny and before either of them, the sound of skin knocking against skin echoes around the small room. Kenny feels Matt's fist against his jaw first before he sees it; the crack of knuckles knock against his jaw, sending pain through Kenny's mouth, there's the fresh taste of blood in Kenny's mouth and he slowly raises his hand to brush against his mouth; blood paints itself through the cracks in Kenny's palm tracing them a glorious red and somewhere distant in his brain, Kenny remembers Kota twisting red ribbons around his pain wrapping it up into small packages that he tucks safely away. His chest heaves; slowly at first almost like Kenny's body can't remember how to breathe.

"Kenny?" Nick's voice is so soft that Kenny almost doesn't pick up on it over the ringing in his ears, the pounding in his lip, the everlasting ache in his chest. Blood is pressed, warm and sticky, against his cheek when Nick hand softly cups his cheek, heavy enough to force Kenny's brain into working. It feels like a chore to raise his eyes away from the blood dripping steadily into his pal- his eyes moving slowly and twitching in his sockets as Kenny stares at Nick's soft blue eyes, watching how they pinch at the corners and he shakes his head at the silent question. Nick frowns and squeezes Kenny hard on his shoulder before turning around to gaze at Matt with something akin to anger in his body. Kenny watches Nick arch, everything in his body rises like the fur across a cat's back and while the brothers argue Kenny slips out, head tucked down and eyes barely focused on his shoes.

Most of the corridors are empty after the show; a few linger stage hands cleaning up water bottles and broken weapons from under the ring, a few wrestlers that nod at Kenny and furrow their eyebrows when he doesn't reply. He hears them question if he's okay, listens to them gasp at the small puddle of blood that grows against the hem of his shirt. Kenny feels his heart fluttering in his chest, rubbing against his lungs like it's trying to start a fire against the soreness in his ribs.

The metal of the door handle is chilled against his stained palms and when Kenny tugs his hand away, he follows the outline of his palm against the metal; red standing out so brightly against silver that it almost feels like a warning, a drying pool outside a caged animals broken den, an alarm ringing in the quiet emptiness of an abandoned apartment. He shoves the door open, feels the cold air brush against his shaking arms and Kenny stumbles through the darkness to curl up against a wall.

The night is cold and the stars stare down at him like the flickering eyes of a cat; hungry and eager and ready to pounce on Kenny as he curls up into himself, trying to get his lungs to breathe and his brain to calm down, his mind races and his skin burns and he bleeds.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and Kenny feels like a whore, he's watched adam dab away at his bottom lip and something in his stomach knots up as he thinks about Adam. He hadn't even bothered to follow the elite back into their locker room and Kenny, now sitting alone and guilty, doesn't fully blame him. Who would want to be around someone who broke their hearts moments before, Kenny sighs at himself. Tangles his arms deeper around his knees and presses his forehead deeper into the rough skin of his jeans, he closes his eyes and swallows, taking heavy gulps of air. He's drowning because he dove too deep into the murky waters of lust and dragged Hangman along, making Adam believe that there was something other than love in Kenny's eyes whenever he looked at him.

tears lick against the back of Kennys eyes, heavy and wet and salty and they press against Kenny's eyelids and slip slowly across the bridge of his nose, they're cold and salty, a distinct and disgusting contrast to the drying blood that settles across his face. His skin burns and his shoulders feel heavy almost like someone pressing down and familiarly rough fingertips are brushing against the curve of his neck, running cold fingers across a scar that curls around the back of Kenny's jaw.

His breathing shudders out of his chest when Kenny moves, trying to shake the softness of the phantom touch. The touch continues, itching its nails against the tight muscle in Kenny's neck, soft round circles rubbing pain out from around the wounds. He hears a familiar sigh and his eyes blink open, he stares into the dry blood on the floor for a few seconds, mind rushing to catch up with his heart.

It's the same brown shoes he remembers, shimmering and polished, the same cozy sweatpants and the same faded shirt that traces and surrounds the same family body. Kenny's met by the same loving, warm brown eyes that he sees in his dreams and Kenny feels like he's been thrown through realities. Kota follows his eyes up his body with a smile, one that dips when he spots the collection of blood against Kenny's jaw, trickling down the side of his neck and into his shirt.

"I've been looking for you.." Kota whispers. He frowns deeper when Kenny rolls his eyes and shifts his attention back to staring at a hole in the floor. His knees crack and slowly Kenny feels Kota's hands slide up the sides of his face, the tips of his fingers brushing carefully across the dent under his eye. "What's wrong?" He whispers, thumbs pressing into the stubble on Kenny's cheek, silently willing Kenny to just look at him.

"Nothing." Kenny whispers at first, gazing down into the floor before he feels Kota's hands shift and he can't stand the idea of looking at the stars shimmering in the dry blood on the floor anymore. He looks Kota in the eye, watching as the warm chocolate of his eyes melt into something akin to apology as he shifts his weight forwards, bringing Kenny into his lap. "the bucks and I argued." Kenny mumbles, stress melting out of his muscles as Kota tucks his head securely under his chin. He listens to Kota sighs bubble up through his throat.

"Is that why you're bleeding?" Kota asks, scratching the blood off Kennys chin with his nail. His smile stays gentle when Kenny nods and he looks down at him as he chuckles. "you're always so quick to argue with your friends. they love you." Kota tells him softly, resting his arms around Kenny's shoulder, running his fingers slowly across the top of Kenny's spine; brushing his fingertips slowly across each little dent and crevice like he's trying to map the very bones of the man he loves. His hands trace across his ribs and Kenny winces a little, "there's something else, isn't there?"

"No." Kenny answers too quickly in English, grumbling when Kota raises an eyebrow and softly tilts his head. "I can't hide from you like I hide from myself, can I?" Kenny whispers, dragging his stinging lips slowly across Kotas chin, just happy to see him again, to touch him. To hear the soft roundness of his voice without having his alarm to break their slow moments together.

Kota doesn't slowly wrap Kenny's pain in red ribbons; he drags it deeply from his body like he clawing Kenny's very heart out of his chest. he holds his pain softly between his stained palms and runs his thumb softly across the wounds, sealing them closed with a soft touch.

Kota doesn't fix Kenny. Kota takes Kenny as he is. Loves him regardless of his breaking body and the ache that twists around his bloodstream, painting the blues of his eyes dull and sullen.

"Kenny." Kota whispers, dragging Kenny's brain away from a place it really shouldn't go. "What happened?"

"Adam said he loved me."

"Oh."

Kenny just nods and tucks his head back under Kota's jaw. "why are you here?" He asks Kota a few moments later, his tongue dragging the words out of his mouth slowly, almost like asking will speed up time until Kota has to disappear again. Under Kenny's chin he feels Kota chuckle, bright and warm and golden under the night sky.

"For you. Why else?"

taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#golden lovers #kota ibushi #kenny omega #mouse writes

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kalopses-sonderes · 2 years

Text

Sonders YanTober Day 7

Love me, love him not

Yandere! Pitaya vs Yandere! Ananas (x reader)

Two old dragons, they have seen all.

They fell in love with nice cookie.

they do not want to share with anyone, not even eachother.

They believe fighting to the death is the answer to all.

“Yo, (name)! Theres a dragon fight going in the woods right now! Wanna get a closer!” Said your best cookie friend, (friends name).

“I dont know, that seems really dangerous…” It was twelve at night. Not a single cookie roaming the streets.

“Come on! We wont get that close, just enough we can see our way back and see the fight!” Well, you’ve always wanted see what dragon fight looked like.

“Wait, theres dragons stil alive?” Your finally process what your asked. Dragons havent been seen in along time.

“I know I know, sounds crazy, but we have to go see it before it ends!” (Friends name) grabs your arm and rushes out the house.

You both are in the forest, you cant see the kingdom from here and theres no trail back. “Theres no way we’ll make it back to the kingdom…”

“Its a once i life time chance! You need to get out the house more often..” (Friends name) stops in their tracks, “Over there! I hear them.” They go running, you follow behind.

You made it to the edge of a cliff, you look down and see two dragons. Theres blood on the ground and covering their scales. Those scale patterns remind you of the gifts you received at your door, they was a yellow box with the scale of one dragon and a pink and black with the scale of the other dragon. You decided thats not a good sign, you take one step back.

“Huh? Where are you goin-” your friend instantly closes their mouth and look back at the dragons who are now staring at you both. “Uh oh..”

You both blink and The dragons seems to disappear in thin air. “What, What happened?” You both look around and see no one. You look farther down the cliff and see two small figures. “Is that them?” You say. Your friend waves. “You idiot, what are you doing!” You say pulling (friends name) arm down.

“Whaat, they might be friendly.”

“Do you see the blood covering the ground! Thats not friendly…. come on we need to leave.”

When you got home you went to your room and fell asleep, (friends name) complained how tired they were and went to sleep on the couch. Knocking in the middle of the night woke them up. They opened the door to see the same cookies they say earlier that night.

It was nine am, you woke up and went down to see if (Friend name) was awake since there was a weird smell filling the house.

“(Friends name)? (Friends name)-” you stopped talking when you saw the front door wide open. “So forgetful….” You close the door.

You walk over to the living room to see if (friends name) left that a mess too. You instead see two half cookie half dragons on your couch, they both look like they’re about to rip each other’s throats out.

“Oh, hello treasure. Howd you sleep?” The one with long white hair said.

“Dont, call them treasure, they’re mine.” The one with golden hair says.

You just stare, unresponsive.

“Oh please, like they would ever choose you Ananas.” The one with White laughs.

‘Ananas’ tackles the white haired one to the ground and start choking him. “I should have killed you when i had the chance.”

“How about we not! Atleast not in my house..” you say.

“Our first impression with them and you already made them upset, good job.” The white hair one says, still struggling under Ananas chokehold.

Ananas grabs the white hair one with one hand, gets up, and throws him out the door. “Mine.. You will never be Pitayas….” Ananas grabs you and forces your face into his chest.

“Oh come on..” Pitaya Groans as he get up. “That was a low blow….”

You finally were able to push yourself out of Ananas iron grip. “What is going on?!”

“I have been-”

“We, have been fighting for your love.” Ananas cut Pitaya off.

“Huh? I dont even know either of you..”

“You basically did. With all the gifts and protection we provided you. Last night was to decided-” Pitaya said.

“No, no no no! Im an not gonna be apart of this, you both need to leave. I dont know nor like you.” You begin to slightly shove them.

“After all this hard work, you wanna push us away? This isnt a safe option..” Ananas said.

“Just leave! I would never like either of you!”

They sigh and leave. “Playing hard to get huh? I’ll impress you one way or another…” Pitaya says.

You closed the door and walked back to your room. “This is all just a bad dream….” You put both your hands on your face. “I’ll just go back to sleep and tell (friends name) about it later….”

You woke up to the smell of burning. You look out your window and and see smoke covering it. You rushed out the front door and see fire spreading across the village. You continue to slowly walk out.

“Ya impressed yet?” Pitaya flys up next to you.

“Why would I….” You stop walking, looking down at the ground.

“You made us do it, I told you this wouldnt be the best option but you pushed us to it.” Ananas said flying to your other side.

“Now, Ananas are you ready? For the fight to the death..” Pitaya says flatly.

“Ive never been more ready Pitaya..” Ananas looks at you. “Dont think about running (Name), it’ll only make this situation worse…”

taglist:

@n0n-gh0stn4ry

#sonders yantober #crk #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run ovenbreak #yandere cookie run ovenbreak #yandere cookie run #pitaya cookie #ananas dragon cookie #ananas x reader #pitaya x reader

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trustelplan · 2 years

Text

Meet Me In The Hallway ( Stay The Night )

charles x pierre ( nsfw )

when a simple dinner changes into something ... much different .

WARNINGS : SMUT SMUT SMUT , anal fingering, anal sex , gay sex, blowjob, handjob, d/s ish, gagging

an : based off of the piarles date photo .

𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 , a nice night out between friends. Pierre and Charles, chatting about everything as they ate. Charles wearing some black shirt he'd found after his training session, Pierre in his favorite button up, chest slightly exposed due to one of the buttons being undone. The check had been ordered and dinner payed for by the frenchman, despite Charles's complaining. The two moving to the car hand in hand as Pierre took to the wheel.

" you should have let me pay," Charles spoke after a moment, eyes on the blond. His lips turned downward in a small frown. Nose tinted red from the alcohol.

Pierre laughing, eyes not leaving the road until they came to a red light a moment later. They fell on Charles, filled with adoration for him.

" Don't worry about it chéri...", his words gentle and reassuring.

Pierre's crush on the Monegasque was undeniable, and maybe it was the blush, maybe it was the tight shirt but god he wanted to kiss him.

" if you'd like, theres a way you can make it up to me." his mouth moving before he could tell it to shut up. Hands gripped the wheel tighter, body tensing even though Charles didn't know what he meant, there was still time, he could play it off if he wanted to.

" Yeah?" Charles's gaze trained on Pierre , never moving. He held a feeling for his friend, it was a feeling he couldn't describe. He loved Pierre, but he didn't want to be his friend... he wanted something else, something more. He would never tell Pierre, it was just a stupid feeling. he looked away, waiting for the request. Oblivious to the pounding heart that ached for him and him alone.

' I want to kiss you'

' please kiss me '

' I want you Charles, I want you bad'

nothing sounded good enough, nothing sounded right. He was at a loss for words, and his heart refused to let him back down.

" Meet me in the hallway? Midnight, I'll tell you then." Pierre forced out, his voice calm, knuckles white from how they gripped the wheel. He relaxed only once he heard the soft ' okay' leave the brunette's lips .

The men left each other once they got to the hotel, doing as they wished until it was time. Charles stood outside Pierre's hotel room, waiting for Pierre to join him. This seemed ridiculous, some stupid favor for dinner leading to a meetup at a time when they should've been asleep. He focused on the watch on his wrist, he was on time, yet Pierre wasn't there.

12:00

12:01

12:02

it was 12:05 when Pierre finally made an appearance. Charles opening his mouth to speak, only to get cut off.

" I want to kiss you"

The words hanging in the air for a solid moment, tension palpable, wide hazel eyes staring up into blue ones.

Charles spoke first

" do it,"

a whisper, that was all it took before he felt them.

Pierre's lips on his, whisky flavored... addicting.

Flighting for control, lost in each others embrace. Hands gripping at each other, no care to keep their volume low. Parting only when the ice in their lungs became too much to bear

Pierre spoke first , in a low whisper

" stay the night" his words causing Charles to bite back a moan.

Handing Pierre the card for his room, the door right there. The taller of the two pulling them in. door slamming shut and Charles was pushed up against it. Lips caught in another kiss, their eyes shut. Charles tasted of vanilla and god it was irresistible. Pierre found the lock after a moment of fumbling and shut it, finally pulling away. His eyes traveling down his best friend's body.

" Pierrot, pear... pear please" the words came breathily and his eyes returned to Charles's face.

" I know chéri , I know, you've been waiting for me, right?" he smiled, thumb tracing Charles's swollen lips. Mouth parting as his finger was accepted into Charles's mouth, " So, needy calamar" Pierre pulled the hand off, being met with a whine. His cock twitching in his pants, and one look at Charles and he knew that the man felt the same way.

" Sit on the bed, " He said

Pierre stepped out of Charles's way, tugging him forward to get him to understand. Watching his best friend walk forward and sit down, Pierre followed, standing in front of him. He ran his hand through Charles's hair, tugging and forcing him to look up. " You okay to suck me off baby?" he spoke , chuckling as Charles's mouth opened, tongue out. He would, he'd do anything for his best friend... the man he secretly loved.

Pierre undid his belt, taking his shirt off too. Hands leaving Charles's head to unzip his jeans only to find Charles fumbling with them first, he watched in amusement as his jeans were pulled down. The smile was immediately replaced with a groan.

" fuck, Charles-"

his eyes met with the brunette mouthing at his clothed length. Pierre using his hair to tug him away again, " 'M gonna cum if you keep doing that" he spoke, hearing a soft whimper from the man under him.

Pierre pushing his boxers down, letting his hard dick out, positioning it at Charles's mouth

" There you are chéri, easy" he spoke, droplets of precum dripping onto Charles's tongue as he led his mouth onto the cock. He let go of Charles, watching him trying to do as told... go slow. Taking him in all the way, feeling Pierre's tip hit the back of his throat, causing him to gag around the length. Pierre pulled his head back to make it easier, words of encouragement fell without a thought.

" Such a good boy for me Charles, so good" he groaned, wiping the tears off of Charles's face. The moan that left Charles caused him to groan, vibrations he felt up his whole body. Charles heard the groan and grew desperate, speeding up his movements, moaning helplessly every time he felt the cock hit the back of his throat. Pulling off only to jerk Pierre off, allowing the precum to drip onto his face.

Charles's movements sped up, " Come on Pear, come on, come on me" he spoke, holding his mouth open when he knew Pierre was reaching his peak. The cock being pushed into his mouth as Pierre came, Charles taking it happily. Gagging on the thick liquid that squeezed itself out of his mouth, on his lips and chin. His own dick straining against his pants , his face red and messy with spit, tears and cum.

" So good, so good fuck , " Pierre pushed him back making room to sit between his legs. Fingers wiping away his tears before Pierre leaned down and kissed him. Swallowing the loud moan that left Charles. The noise went right to his dick, starting to harden once more.

Charles kicking off the rest of his clothes as best he could. Pierre's hand wrapping around his leaking cock, pulling away only when he realized just how wet it was. Charles' hips bucked up into his hand, attempting to find some friction. That was until he felt a slap to his leg, " Bad boy, " the frenchman hissed.

" Pear I want , I want you please, I'll be a good boy" he cried out, sat back on his elbows. Looking at Pierre with a pleading expression. Eyes rolling back at the feeling of two wet fingers pushing into him. Pierre going slow until he was sure it wasn't hurting Charles, fingers wet enough to allow him to loosen him enough to fuck .

" I'm okay- please- god , fuck! fuck me!" wantonly moaning at the feeling of being fingered. A loud whine left Charles when the fingers were pulled away.

" Shh, baby stop, i'm going to fuck you now" Pierre spoke softly , running his fingers down Charles' jaw. " I'm going to fuck you.. lay back" he hushed, pushing Charles to the center of the bed. Laying his head on a pillow.

Pierre's cock slowly pressed past his ring of muscles , filling the younger man up. Charles' arms finding his biceps, holding on as a choked sob left him. " Putain- Pierre!" the Monegasque clawing at his arms.

" Shh, Charlo... we have to be quiet" Pierre spoke as he rocked his hips against Charles, pushing his fingers into his mouth. " unfortunately , no one else wants to hear you being a slut for me. " he pressed kisses to the bottom's jaw. It took a few minutes to escalate, Pierre fucking him down into the bed. Watching amusedly as Charles's eyes looked away dazed, drool covering his chin and cheeks. Lazily sucking on Pierre's fingers, the soft moans muffled by Pierre's fingers, further drowned out by the comments that were bitten into his skin.

Pierre chuckled as he wrapped his hand around Charles' hard dick, pumping him until he came. Charles shaking as cum spilling all over Pierre's hand. A choked moan of ' Pear' leaving him when his partner removed the fingers from his mouth.

A satisfied sigh escaped him when Pierre came into him, smiling at the groan he heard.

His fingers ran through the blond waves, pulling him down into a kiss,

" Stay the night?" he asked , twirling Pierre's hair between his fingers

" Of course."

#charles leclerc #piarles #pierre gasly #piarles fic #charles leclerc smut #pierre gasly smut #ferrari #f1

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gt-preys · 2 years

Text

Stubbornness is key

It's finally finished, sorry for such a long wait but I hope you enjoy:)

--------------

Giant!Steve, Giant!Eddie x Human!reader

In hindsight hiking alone on a tricky trail had been a stupid idea.

Especially in giant territory. Not that being there was particularly bad, but the trail had been made for those much larger than himself. What he saw as boulders were nothing more than big rocks to his species larger counterpart.

Hiking a trail like this, he really should have called for one of his larger friends to accompany him and make sure he wouldn't get into trouble. He knew he wouldn't have been turned down, he had plenty of friends who enjoyed exploring and would be more than willing to join him on the trek but he had opted for some alone time and now he's stuck.

(Y/N) is forced into a crouch on one leg, the other now embedded into the stone. Two boulders sitting close together yet with enough of a gap for him to get his leg wedged knee deep. In the hot weather the tiny had opted to wear long jean shorts which he now deeply regretted, able to feel his shredded leg weep out into the skin and stone.

(Y/N) had been stuck there for atleast an hour, had he brought his phone with him he'd know for sure and would have been able to call for help but alas he hadn't and as the sun begins lowering in the sky, the temperature lowers with it. It's only a little chilly right now but he knows the night will be a cold one and he isn't prepared for it. He had expected to reach the hill's top by now and be able to watch the sunset before he set off back down, instead he was relegated to watching the skies colours shift through the canopy above as he finishes off the last of his water.

With a huff he lowers himself to sit, keeping his free leg bent infront of himself incase he needs to get back up. The night would be long but hopefully if he can make it through he might be able to flag down an early morning jogger.

Those thoughts are pushed aside as he's made aware of distant voices. The tiny perks up at this trying his best to turn and look over his shoulder at the approaching source, but a shot of pain through his leg is quick to end the action.

The voices are closer now and with them comes the vibrations of something far bigger than himself. Eyeing the path (Y/N) realises he better make his presence known sooner rather than later, the boulder he's stuck on sits dead centre on the trail. If he doesn't grab their attention theres a real risk of him being stepped on.

Unable to turn towards the the sound (Y/N) instead begins to wave his arms in the air frantically, he also takes a deep lung full of air before screaming as loud as he can "HEY, I'M DOWN HERE! I'M STUCK, PLEASE HELP!" (Y/N) flinches at the feeling of a foot falling right behind himself.

Panicking he curls in on himself, bringing his hands over his head in a vain attempt to shield himself. There's some rustling and a few mumbled curses but his fear of being crushed is cut down when a rough voice speaks up "Jesus H christ...almost didn't see you there" stretching back out to peek over his shoulder (Y/N) can only make out dark clothing and a single large hand adorned with three silver rings, a finger topped with black nail polish hovers outstretched in the air as if unsure whether its appropriate to offer the tiny stranger any physical comfort.

"You okay?" (Y/N) can't see where that voice came from but the concerned tone helps to settle his worries some more. "I think so, but I'm stuck. I climbed this boulder to see if I could tell how much further was left but snagged my leg in between the two and couldn't free myself." He explains turning back around to gesture to the situation that had befallen him. There are twin hums from above him and then suddenly a massive hand is carefully exploring his trappings, giving the crack a gentle prod to see if the two boulders could be pried apart. "If you keep a hold on him I can move the rocks, less risk of injuring him then." The unknown voice suggests, receiving a nonverbal response by the looks of it.

"Hey is it cool for me to hold you real quick?" The dark clothed voice asks and (Y/N) agrees. At this point he'd say yes to just about anything, he just wants to be free from the clammy rocks grasp. A thumb and finger push under the man's armpits, lightly grasping his torso and he can't help but marvel at how big the digits are compared to his own tiny body. Two hands appear before him on the rocks, completely dwarfing the stones "just let me know if you need me to stop" the second man says before beginning to gently pulls the two rocks apart, clearly not wanting to risk damaging the human anymore than he already had been, though (Y/N) is fairly certain he could have swiftly removed the two without much thought and he'd still be fine but it's comforting to see the giant had his well being in mind.

The giant holding him lifts him up once he's free , gently depositing him into a cupped palm. Once he's released from the digits (Y/N) leans forwards to look over his leg. It's pretty scratched up, definitely not going to be fun to walk on but with care it should heal up nicely. Still not a nice sight though.

"How are you feeling?" (Y/N) startles, head snapping up to find large almond eyes on him. "Uh, yeah. Just a few bad scratches, could've been worse" he shrugs feeling nervous under the man's stare. The eyebrows furrow as he leans in closer causing the human to lean back, nervous at the giant's sudden intense curiosity. "Hey wait...(Y/N)?" The human blinks confused "yeah?" The brows lift and a wide toothy smile splits the large lips before him. "Eddie munson" he states grinning as he recognises the tiny life in his palm and suddenly things are a lot clearer.

He and Eddie weren't exactly buddies but the two had spoke briefly now and then, mostly regarding superheroes and the like. The discussions were always brief but passionate and (Y/N) couldn't lie he liked the giant. He was funny, knowledgeable and was mindful of his small companion. Now that he thought about it, Eddie had never treated him different as if he were an equal to the large man.

He's also very pretty.

Intimidatingly so infact.

"You two know each other?" The voice from earlier questions as a face shifts into view beside Eddie's, albeit not quite so in the human's space. "Yeah, he's one of my nerd buddies!" Eddie replies happily as he faces the other giant. A giant (Y/N) had never expected someone like Eddie to hang around. Steve Harrington, king Steve. A man he himself had never interacted with, nor did he really want to. "Like Dustin?" He asks and Eddie chuckles facing the tiny again, his laugh breathing warm, earthy smelling air over him.

"Nah, not hellfire" (Y/N) would love to explain their acquaintance situation and all but it is getting colder, he's sore, he's tired and a little cranky in all honesty. Steve seems to catch this as Eddie chatters away about his little club, completely oblivious as the human tries to warm himself by rubbing his arms vigorously in an attempt to generate heat via friction.

"Hey Ed's maybe we should get him somewhere warmer" the jock prods gently breaking the metalhead from his rambling. The metalhead tugs his attention back to (Y/N), his warm, happy demenour becoming more of a shocked and worried look. "Oh shit yeah, I forget humans lose heat quicker than us" Eddie purses his lips as he thinks "we don't have any pockets" Steve mumbles frowning, it's odd to see the king worried for a small fry like himself.

"We could store him"

It's silent for a moment.

Both Steve and (Y/N) share the same wide eyed shocked expression. He knew what storing was and from what he had heard in their co-existing learning classes it seemed completely safe and practically normalised for most of giant society, however not everyone liked the idea and clearly Steve was one of them.

"Store some random human you barely even know?" He asks incredulously and Eddie shrugs "do you have a better idea?" He raises an eyebrow at the king who purses his lips in thought, his eyebrows furrow as he struggles to come up with anything less.... intimidating? "Not everyone thinks storing is moral and besides what if someone sees you and gets the wrong idea? You wanna get done for attempted murder?" Seeing no other option Steve attempts to reason with the metalhead once again. "No ones gonna see" he argues back rolling his eyes.

(Y/N)'s words stick in his throat as those same almond eyes land on him once again "so you good with that?" Is he? He's not sure, he's never been stored before, never needed to be or wanted to be, but now here stands a friend of sorts asking him that very question as if it's nothing. As if it's not insanely intimate.

Call it cliché but (Y/N) had a crush on the guy and he's not really sure he could feel the same way about Eddie if he saw his insides.

But he's also cold and Eddie is kind, gentle and looking at him with those big brown eyes of his. So even knowing it may ruin his crush on the large man (Y/N) nods, accepting that it would've happened sooner or later.

Eddie grins "cool" a thumb brushes down his back and (Y/N) manages a nervous smile as Eddie lifts his palm. Steve panics looking from th two and then to the path, checking both ways. There's no one else in sight, just the three of them. He's not sure if he's more worried about getting caught or Eddie's willingness to do something so...'feral'.

The idea of consuming another living being always gave him the heebie jeebies.

(Y/N) sits still in Eddie palm, body tense with anxiety. "Just relax, I'll be gentle" the lips before him move, speaking comforting words to him but all (Y/N) can focus on is the dark cavern behind them, framed by smiling pearly white teeth. A large fingertip is pressed to his chest, forcing his body back flat against the giant palm. "Ease up" a puff of warm breath washes across his legs and waist. His heart hammers loudly in his chest as his feet are being gently pushed into the giants mouth, the skin of his calves slipping over his lower teeth without any scrapes or discomfort.

Eddie looks down past his nose at him, taking it slowly as he pushes (Y/N) in up to his waist. The human staying stock still in his grasp. He hadn't expected to worry so much about whether or not (Y/N) might have an emotional reaction to the act or not, but he can't not when the tiny man's face scrunched up with nerves when he glances down at his legs disappearing into the giant's maw.

After checking both ends of the path Steve turns back to face Eddie, shocked to find the human they had rescued up to their waist in his friend's maw. Eddie has his hand under the tiny's torso, supporting their body as he tilts his head back managing to fit more of his body inside. He can't even utter a word on the matter as he's too shocked to speak.

(Y/N) feels Eddie's hand slip up his back, thumb moving to press down lightly on the top of his head, ever so carefully the giant tucks the human away inside his mouth. Teeth lightly clacking shut behind his head and with that (Y/N) lays on Eddie's tongue unsure of whether he made the correct choice or not. The tongue beneath him begins to move slowly rubbing against him, spreading saliva over his body. (Y/N) squeezes his eyes shut trying to calm his nerves as a hum vibrates through him from deep within Eddie.

Steve watches Eddie who stands with his eyes closed as he tastes the tiny. He wants to tell him to hurry up, still worried at being caught but he's also in wonder at the display. He's heard people talk about storing plenty of times but he'd never seen someone do it or even really thought of doing it himself. But the metalhead seems to be his complete opposite, apparently enjoying every indulgent second of devouring another person. Eddie shifts his stance, leaning his head back and placing his ringed fingers to his throat, swallowing the human down without any hesitation. His lips part with a silent breath, running his tongue along the bottom one as if to collect any left over flavour.

Eddie basks in his own self satisfaction for a moment, feeling the small lump (Y/N) makes in his throat disappear down past his collarbone. Moving his hand down along with him till his palm finally comes to rest over his abdomen, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin there. "You okay in there?" He tilts his head down to look at his hand "y-yeah, just a bit...strange, y'know?" Comes the reply and he chuckles rubbing the small bundle he can feel beneath his fingers. "He can hear you?" Steve asks moving to stand beside him, also eyeing his waistline to which Eddie grins "yep. He can hear me and I..." he begins taking Steve's hand, pressing it to his stomach where he can feel (Y/N) shifting around to get comfortable for the trek ahead.

Eddie watches Steve's face with bemusement, the ex-jock is in complete awe at the situation at hand. "That's insane" he mumbles still rubbing the spot where he can feel (Y/N) residing "yup, the body is a truly amazing thing" Eddie laughs patting his friend on the shoulder "now come on, we've still got a fair walk ahead of us and I'd like to be home before it gets dark" he says replacing Steve's hand with his own again as he starts walking "don't wanna trip and jostle our guest" and with that the two continue on their walk with Steve occasionally asking questions to both Eddie and (Y/N).

It seems the situation had sparked a new curiosity in the ex-king...

#eddie munson vore #steve harrington vore #stranger things vore #v/ore #pred #soft vore #g/t vore #safe vore #tw vore

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ghost-of-you · 1 year

Text

we just danced backwards into each other - ch - part 7

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of an er visit and vague descriptions of an injury and how it happened, also Lena's team sucks.

Word Count: 9.4k

Authors note: okay, this took a long time to post, sorry about that, i cant even say i hit a writer's block patch because i have been writing a lot about them, i just hit a bit where i could only write flashbacks, i even briefly considered to post a part that was just flashbacks, but that didn't fit the plan, but here we are, hopefully, the next part wont take this long, i already have a solid chunk written. That being said the flashbacks are getting more elaborate, and theres quite a bit of them in this part. As usual, italics are flashbacks.

Read it on AO3

Part 6 Part 8

Masterlist

______

Lena wasn't exactly sure what to expect from the meeting she was called in for, she thought it would be about the conversations surrounding her and Calum and when she would be allowed to start putting songs out, but she sure as hell didn’t expect to find herself in the situation she is in.

“What do you mean, supporting act?” Lena asks as calmly as she possibly can.

“You’ll get your own tour next year, but they need an opener and it makes sense-” Her manager sounds calm and slightly condescending and that makes her cut her off.

“No, it doesn’t,” she shakes her head, and Sylvia sighs.

“Lena, you can’t do arenas alone, it will be good for you."

“No, I’m not doing it,” she says, crossing her arms but the look she gets in response makes her shoulders tense.

“You already agreed,” she says and Lena frowns in confusion.

“No, I didn't." She sounds a bit childish. Probably looks it too, arms crossed, hands clenching the ends of her sleeves, a pout she can't really fight on her lips.

“Yes, you did," Sylvia says and the look on her face it's what finally makes the situation make sense.

“The ‘a few concerts’ part of the deal is a whole tour?" She air-quotes, feeling exasperated, "are you fucking kidding me?”

“Lena,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose and Lena rolls her eyes.

“Fine, great, I’m going on tour with my fake boyfriend, yeehoo," she says, making a dramatic motion with her hands, "does that mean I’ll get to release something?”

“Yes." The word sounds too careful and it makes Lena groan.

“But the first thing will have to be the duet, right?”

“Yes.” The word rings in her ears and it makes her blood boil. It makes her want to start a fight. But she just takes a deep breath, pressing her lips together.

“Okay, can I go now? I have a song to finish and a deadline now."

“Sure."

“Thank you,” she says, pushing her chair back loudly and making her way out the door. She wants to slam it. She wants to slam something. But she ends up slamming into someone. The last person she wants to see at that particular moment.

Lena was slowly walking through the schoolyard, dragging her feet, wishing she didn't have to go to the quad and stay there for another period. She wanted to leave. She wanted to hide. Actually, she wanted to cry and she felt stupid for it, so she wanted to run. But not literally, and if she went to PE, Coach would make her run laps or something and the thought made her want to scream.

To be fair, all her thoughts were making her want to scream. She wanted to scream at herself for failing that test. She wanted to scream at herself for caring so much about one stupid grade she could easily make up for. She wanted to scream for wanting to scream. It was all very frustrating.

It was why she ended up hiding in the corner beside the bleachers where she would sit when she didn't want Coach to force her to participate. Or where she would hide to watch the football team practice sometimes. The second occasion had happened more times than she would want to admit, but she liked understanding when Calum went on about the games and the team, so she started watching it more. It was just about being a good friend. It definitely had nothing to do with the way he would smile at her, a smile that would light up his whole face and he'd even get dimples on his cheeks, when she had an input that made sense. And she was growing to enjoy the sport, even if just because of his sheer enthusiasm.

She wasn't watching the field that day though, too busy feeling sorry for herself to do anything other than stare at the floor, twisting a pebble between her fingers, waiting for the hour to be over. It was why she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her until they were too close for her to run. So she settled to furiously wiping the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hands, letting out a frustrated huff as the tears wouldn't stop, trying to come up with an excuse to give Coach as she turned to look up at whoever it was when they stopped.

But it wasn't Coach, and she watched as Calum, dressed in the school team's uniform, sat down beside her, leaving about a foot of space between them, making her frown. Why wasn't he playing? Coach might not miss Lena, but he would definitely notice that Calum wasn't there.

She was looking at him trying to figure out what to say. Maybe tell him she didn't want to talk. That he should go back. That she wanted to be alone. But before she could say anything he offered her his water bottle, raising his brow in a silent question: do you want me to go? And Lena surprised herself by shaking her head while taking the bottle from his hand.

He didn't say anything, just nodded and looked forward, at the field. And Lena watched him, stunned for a few seconds while taking a big gulp of the water while feeling a rush of affection for him she couldn't quite understand, before shaking her head and scooting closer to him.

They sat there in silence until the bell rang when Calum scrambled to his feet and offered her a hand to help her up too, giving it a comforting squeeze before running back to get his stuff from the locker room, leaving Lena unsure of why she felt like she could follow him anywhere.

“Woah there, love,” Calum chuckles, holding her up, but frowning when he notices the look on her face, “you okay?” He asks, and she groans, closing her eyes, and exhaling sharply before stepping back from him.

“Fine, I gotta go,” she mumbles, stepping around him and moving toward the break room at the end of the hall. She doesn't know exactly what she wants there as she moves to get a glass and stops by the water fountain, hand clutching at the cool metal edge and watching as the water slowly fills the cup. Too slowly.

"Lena," Calum's voice is careful as it comes from somewhere behind her and she groans, staring at the wall.

"Calum, I mean this in the nicest way possible but get out," she says, as calmly as she possibly can, closing her eyes as she takes a sip.

"Lena," he tries again and she sighs.

"Look, really wanna do something self-destructive, picking a fight with you right now would definitely do that and I don't wanna say something I can't take back, so please leave me alone, I promise I'll talk to you once I stop feeling like wanna smash something," she says, clutching the cup with both hands, still staring at the wall.

"Okay, just call me if you need me," he says and she nods.

"Yeah." She is actually surprised when she hears him walking away, but she stays there, slowly counting her breaths as she sips on her water, trying to get a grip on her feelings when she hears footsteps behind her again.

"Calum, I said please," she groans, putting the cup down, but the voice that comes from behind her makes her head snap back.

"Not Calum," Andy says, and she finds him leaning against the doorway, "he did send me, though, he said he didn't think you should be alone," he explains and she stares at him for a few seconds before crossing the room straight into his chest, making him huff out a laugh as he wraps his arms around her, "what happened?"

"We're going on tour," she says, stepping back so she can look at him.

"And you're upset why exactly?" He frowns at her and she purses her lips.

"With 5sos," she says and understanding floods his face.

"We're opening?" He asks and she nods slowly, "so you're not sad, you're pissed."

"Yes."

"Got it, wanna go find something for us to break?"

"Yes, please."

The wait was agonizing. And it was throwing him off. It wasn't like this was the first time Calum and Lena had gone for days without hearing from each other. It wasn't the first time they had a fight that ended with one of them storming off. Granted, this was the first time Lena was the one that initiated the divide between them and stuck with it. But he thought she would come back. She always came back.

Their silly arguments used to end fairly quickly and when he was the one storming out after tearing them apart in one swoop, he felt like he didn't have the right to miss her. He regretted walking out on her the second the door had closed behind him but some part of him still thought it was for the best.

But this time, there wasn't a piece of him that didn't desperately want to fix this. He needed to fix it somehow.

But Lena was gone, no one exactly sure where and it was agonizing because he was terrified he had lost her for good. He was terrified of what she would do.

Most of all he was terrified of how much he missed her.

Their relationship had been about distance for long enough for Calum to be able to compartmentalize the feeling. It came with the job. He was always missing someone.

But this time it felt different. Maybe because he couldn't just call and have the ache softened by the sound of her voice. Maybe it was because there was no escaping it when even looking at a picture of them just made him feel worse.

Someone else might've seen the irony in the way Lena was out, somewhere in the world, convinced he didn't love her while Calum was finally understanding how much he actually did.

Not that he wasn't aware of how non-platonic his feelings for her were. How non-platonic they had always been. But letting himself admit it had him seeing how deep those feelings ran and he couldn't believe how stupid he had been.

She loved him. He knew that for years. He loved her. He also knew that for years. So why had he fought so hard to keep her out? And how had he left himself make her believe he didn't love her?

Granted, he thought she was over him. He thought he had lost his chance. That his time to do something had passed. That a somewhat mended friendship was all he could have after what he did. So he convinced himself that it was what she wanted. That it was what he wanted. And because of that, he had no reaction to give her when she made her feelings known. Again.

The worst part is that he couldn't even blame her for leaving. He sure as fuck would've too if the roles were reversed. He would've done more damage as he left too. It wouldn't be as graceful.

The calm in which she had taken his hand and done the exact same thing he had all those years before, just leaving the piece of them she held onto when he didn't deserve it, all while looking him dead in the eyes, daring him to stop her, was not something he could have achieved.

She walked away and he had to let her do it. He couldn't offer what she wanted. But then again, all he wanted was to get her to stay.

It was how he ran into Andy. The roommate who most definitely hated him. Not that Calum blamed him.

"She's flying back," Andy told him after an awkward greeting, turning back to Calum, “tomorrow if she gets on the plane,” he added before Calum could ask, sliding to the booth across from him.

“You talked to her?” Calum asked and he nodded, "is she safe?"

"She said she is."

"Do you believe her?"

"I don't know," he said, rubbing his forehead.

“How is she?”

“How do you think?” Andy huffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m still asking,” he said simply and Andy studied him for a few seconds before answering.

“Well, she sounded a lot like she did last time,” he finally said and Calum frowned.

“I don’t know what that means." Those words frustrated him. He used to think there wasn't a part of Lena he didn't know and he didn't like to be confronted with the fact that he didn't know her as well as he thought.

“She sounded numb, dude, avoidance is something she mastered, it was like she couldn’t handle all she was feeling, I’m relieved she’s coming back, the numb stage was a bad one,” he ran a hand through his hair and for a second Calum wondered if he really wanted to know, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.

“Why?”

“She cried for like a whole week and one day she just stopped, it was like she decided she didn't want to feel it anymore, but she wasn't feeling anything else either, she was moving on auto-pilot, burying herself into distractions, she landed herself in the hospital once."

“I didn’t know that."

“She passed out on campus, it sounds worse than it was," Andy's voice was dismissive as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back on his seat.

“What happened?”

“She was dehydrated, pushed herself too hard, she was actually at the campus health center when it happened, not that anyone thought to tell me that when they called me, it was all ‘Lena is in the hospital, you gotta get here now’," he breathed out a puff of air and Calum considered his words. He really couldn't blame the guy for the way he reacted whenever he was around Lena.

"That sounds like a lot."

"I've spent the whole week waiting for that call again," Andy said, voice low, sounding as if he didn't want to admit what he'd been thinking but also as if he needed Calum to know how bad it could get.

"I know what you think of me, but I'm not trying to hurt her," he defended himself but the other man shook his head.

"You wanting to do it or not doesn't change how it's always happening," he challenged and Calum felt stunned for a second.

"Did you talk to her about-"

"Your situation and why she ran? Yes," he nodded and Calum looked expectantly at him.

"And?"

"She's hiding, she does that, hide until she can handle what she’s feeling," he said and Calum nodded. That he knew. He used to have a list of places she usually hid back home for the days she would run without telling him where she was going. Under the bleachers at their old school, the lookout not far from her mum's house, the park a few blocks from his place, the old playground by Michael's. He used find her and just sit with her until she was ready to talk. "I remember at the beginning of our second year she disappeared for a few days and then came back like nothing happened, I still don’t know where she went,�� Andy added with a frustrated huff, and Calum frowned at him. He knew what happened.

“She came to see me," he said and got a puzzled look in return, "We were doing promo back home and she just showed up and followed us around, I think we were telling people she was our hairstylist or something like that.”

Lena had called him one day, saying she was at his hotel lobby. He had not believed her at first but went down anyway, grinning when he saw her, clutching the straps of her backpack while she bounced on the balls of her feet waiting for him. It took until he saw the anxious look on her face as she turned to him for him to start to question why she was there, it was a nine-hour drive after all, but she just hugged him and shrugged the question off. He knew she needed a distraction and he was happy to provide it. Their manager had been annoyed about it, but still made the necessary arrangements for her to be able to stay with him. She went to interviews, and a photoshoot, standing in a corner laughing as she fluffed Michael’s hair with a comb sticking out of her back pocket, saying Calum needed more hair gel, and sat next to him in the back of the van as if she belonged there. The night before they left she curled up on his bed and cried telling him about the fight she had with her mother, and how she just got in her car and drove. The same car he closed the door to in the hotel parking lot because she needed to go back to uni and he had another plane to catch.

“She stayed with us until I had to leave."

“She went to you?” He asked, sounding skeptical and Calum nodded.

“She used to do that a lot, come to me when she wanted to run, I always tried to be there if I could."

"It's just been a while since she ran without telling me." He was back to looking frustrated and Calum narrowed his eyes at him.

"You really care about her, don't you?"

“She’s my family, and honestly, I’m sick of hearing her cry over you, I can’t say I understand why she loves you."

“We had good years before things got too complicated."

“Complicated,” he huffed out a chuckle and Calum frowned.

“What?”

“When she was angry she would pace around, going on about how you kept saying it’s complicated, and calling you very creative names," the blonde explained with a chuckle and Calum narrowed his eyes at him.

"How much did she tell you?" He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Enough. I think she downplays some of the parts that hurt her the most, but I'm not sure if she's trying to get me not to hate you or if she's just sparing herself."

"It's probably both."

"Definitely both."

"I've been thinking about what you said," Calum said after a beat of silence and Andy looked confused.

"Me?"

"About being someone who deserves how much she loves me," He explained and Andy narrowed his eyes at him. It was unsettling to see how much they looked like Lena's when he stared at him like that.

"Right," he said, sounding skeptical.

"I can't change the shit that already happened, I would if I could, go back and smack some sense into myself, but if she lets me I'll try for as long as it takes to fix it," he paused, but Andy looked unconvinced, "you think she'll talk to me?"

"Honestly? No. Not right now at least," he added after a beat, "but maybe, if you are serious about this, she'll come around."

"I am serious," Calum said and Andy studied him carefully, before seemingly deciding he was being sincere by giving him a small nod.

"Then maybe you still have a chance."

Lena lost track of how long she had been sitting in her car, phone in her hand trying to decide what to do. Calum said to call him if she needed him, so she could call even if she didn’t necessarily need him at the moment. She just feels bad for the way she reacted. And she always hated fighting the urge to talk to him.

The decision shouldn’t be this hard. She should just call him if she wants to talk to him. At least that’s what she’s been telling herself for at least the last thirty minutes, music blaring through the car while clicking in and out of Calum’s contact.

“Just do it,” she tells herself, pausing the music, leaning back against the seat, and closing her eyes as she clicks the call button.

"Hi, L," Luke's voice comes through the phone when she thought the call was about to go to voicemail and Lena frowns slightly, pulling the phone off her ear and checking the screen to see if she dialed the right number, finding Calum's name on it.

"Luke?" She asks, sounding confused and he giggles.

"Cal is occupied, but I didn't want to leave you hanging."

"Oh, you didn't have to, I can call back later," she says, scratching her neck as she hears Calum's voice at a distance.

"Is that my phone?" Calum asks and Luke must've agreed because he adds, "why are you on my phone?" sounding a lot closer.

"It's L, you've been checking it compulsively," Luke says and there's a commotion where she assumes the phone is being passed around because she stops understanding what they are saying.

"Lena? Is everything okay?” He asks, sounding concerned, making her chuckle.

"You said to call if I needed you."

"I did."

"But you're busy, we can talk later, it's fine," she says, scratching her neck but he's quick to stop her dismissal.

"We're pretty much done, I'll be off, in like ten, twenty minutes?"

"Can you meet me then?"

"Yeah, you want me to stop by your place? You wanna come over? You wanna go somewhere? I don't have my car so I would have to go get it but-" He sounds eager and that makes her giggle, looking around herself before interrupting him.

"I can pick you up,” she offers, adjusting in the seat.

“I’ll wait for you then."

“You got your license?” Calum said, sounding skeptical and mildly jealous as he leaned against the open window, making Lena pout, as she gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Just get in, some of us still have a curfew," she complained and he opened the door, sliding into the passenger side.

“You didn’t answer,” he said while she watched him.

“Seatbelt,” she said and he rolled his eyes, buckling in, “of course I got it, you think mum would let me get the car if I didn’t have a license?”

“When did this happen?”

“About a month ago,” she shrugged, carefully making the car move again and she didn't have to look at him to know he looked offended as he shifted in the seat.

“A month? And you didn’t tell me?"

“And miss the look on your face when I rolled up? No chance," she teased, glancing at him.

“I can’t believe you got your license before me,” he complained, pushing the seat back so he could sit more comfortably and she rolled her eyes.

“No, you’re not allowed to complain, you were just on a world tour, who cares about cars?”

“Says the one with a car."

“It’s not like it's my car.”

“You’re driving it."

“It's not that exciting, but sometimes mum lets me drive myself to school, so that’s cool.'

"So, where are we going?"

"I have no idea, I didn't think that far," she laughed, tapping on the steering wheel.

"We can drive around until we find someplace to stop," he offered and she considered it while he leaned forward to mess with the radio.

“Wait, wanna go to the lookout?” She said, suddenly, looking at him and he grinned at her as he finally got the radio to work.

Lena parked the car, still far from the edge, but close enough for them to be able to look at the lights of the city below, before getting out, moving to the front of the car, Calum following her, looking amused as she moved so she could sit on the hood, patting the space beside her as she leaned against the windshield.

"You've been coming here alone?" He asked once he was settled beside her, and she shrugged, glancing at him.

"Nah, it's weird being here now," she pressed her lips together while he watched her. Everything they used to do together felt lacking when he wasn't there. It just made the constant ache of missing him that much more intense, "and mum doesn't like me being out here by myself so…"

"It's probably not a good idea," he chuckled, eyes still on her making her slide closer to him and drop her head on his shoulder, holding on to his arm. She couldn't quite believe he was really there. Not just a voice on her phone or a face on a screen but within her reach. It made her want to hold on and never let him leave again. And that was stupid all things considered. It was never going to happen. She knew she needed to get over her feelings for him. But that was a problem for future Lena. At that moment the only thing that mattered was that Calum really was there.

"I've been meaning to tell you something," she said, looking forward and she felt him moving beside her.

"What?" He asked and she chewed on her bottom lip.

"It's okay if you're gonna be too busy, I didn't think you'd be here, but you are and well, I can't not invite you but really is okay if you can't go-" she was rambling and she knew she should just say it but the words wouldn't come out until Calum interrupted her.

"Go where?" He chuckled, and she pulled away so she could look at him.

"I booked a gig," she blurted out, pressing her lips together and anxiously watching him. But as his face lit up with a smile she felt stupid for being anxious about telling him. Of course he would be happy for her.

"Really?"

"It's not, you know, one direction, stadium world tour, but they told me they sold like few hundred tickets and I'm just opening and no one is gonna be there to see me and it's okay if you can't go," she was babbling and he looked amused.

"I'm going," he told her and she pressed her lips together.

"Really?"

"You think I'd miss it?"

"I didn’t think you’d be here," she chuckled and he rolled his eyes.

"But I am, so… When is it?"

"The day before you're set to leave."

"I'll be there," he said, sounding determined and that just made her smile at him.

Lena’s about to reach for her phone to let Calum know she’s there when she hears a tap on the passenger window, and she’s startled for a second before unlocking the door.

“How did you know I was here?” She laughs, watching as Calum gets in.

“I didn’t,” he says, making her frown at him, “I saw the car,” he explains, adjusting the seat and buckling in and she nods.

"Right."

"Where are we going?" He asks when they start moving and she laughs.

"I didn't think that far."

"So we're just driving around then?" He asks and she shrugs, "what happened that got you that upset?" He adds and she can feel him watching her.

"You don't know?" She asks, glancing at him and he frowns at her, "I'm your opening act," she adds and she can see he's fighting to keep his expression neutral.

"You are?" He asks, failing to mask the excitement in his voice. She thinks she'll be excited about it soon enough, she liked performing too much to be upset for long. And she knows he's excited about the thought of having her around while on the road again. But she's unsure how she feels about being on tour with him. It's just hard not to think about how badly the last tour they did together ended for the both of them. And they went in with a relationship that was a lot more stable than whatever's happening between them at the moment.

"Yep," she nods and he's still watching her carefully.

"Okay," he says, sounding unsure and she sighs.

"You know the agreement for the relationship?" She starts, looking at him at a red light and he nods, "I didn't know that I was agreeing to the tour too. I'm not mad I'm going on tour with you guys because of you guys, it just felt like a step back you know? And I know I ain't selling out arenas and that this is a good opportunity but I am annoyed." Most of all she's annoyed about the way she keeps getting tricked into doing things, but there's a part of her that doesn't want to do the tour simply because she feels like her career moved so much since the last time she opened for them. Two albums out, a third on the way. Was it crazy for her to not want to do the thing that started it all again?

“Why?” Calum asks and she chews on her bottom lip trying to figure out the right thing to say to get him to understand the issue she has with the situation.

“How would you feel if I told you you need to tour with one direction again?” She asks in return, stealing a glance at him and seeing the emotions on his face as he processes her words: confusion being replaced with understanding being replaced with uneasiness.

“Got it."

“I am sorry about earlier though, so you can stop with the monosyllabic answers-" she chuckles, feeling restless over the way his reactions feel too careful.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says before she can finish her thought.

"-and you're allowed to be happy I'm going on the road with you again," she continues and he laughs.

"I am?" He sounds equal parts unsure and excited and it's a bit disarming.

"Yeah."

"Are you? All things considered?" He asks, genuine concern in his voice, and she considers the question.

"Well, it’s fun, so I'm sure I'll be excited about it soon, but if I'm being honest the idea of spending months seeing you on a semi-daily basis again it's a bit unsettling," she admits, fighting the urge to look at him because she doesn't want to know what she would see in his face if she did.

"Unsettling?"

"I don't know, okay? It's just, I'm trying not to shut you out, but it's weird."

“What?”

“Not fighting the urge to talk to you, I got used to it,” she says, tapping her thumbs against the steering wheel, “we need to finish the song, though,” she chuckles, glancing at him, wanting to change the subject.

“I like the way it is now," he says, simply. She does too. That version may only exist as a voice note recorded with Calum's phone but there's something about it. She really hopes they can capture that in the studio.

“Yeah, me too, but you really think it's gonna work with just the piano?" It's definitely not her usual style and she's worried about how it would sound.

"We could try it out,"

"We can work on it."

“Whenever you want."

“Not now though, now we’re doing something stupid,” she giggles, finally realizing where she wants to go.

“How stupid are we talking here? ‘Cause you have really high standards for stupid,” he jokes and she pouts.

“Hey!” She complains, sounding offended and he laughs.

“I’m just saying, are you just planning on driving until we run out of gas, or are you skipping that and just going straight to the airport? I'm down if you wanna flee the country again, you just need to tell me first,” he tells her and she can't help the way her heart flutters.

“So you would run away with me?”

“Always,” he says, making her have to press her lips together to control the smile threatening to take over her face. It feels unfair, the way he keeps getting these reactions out of her without even trying.

"Do I need a plane ticket and a shiny ring with your name on it?" She jokes, more in an attempt to keep the conversation lighthearted than anything else, but she starts laughing when he groans, rolling his eyes.

"I take it back," he says, and she glances at him, trying to determine how much he means it, but he seems to be fighting to keep a straight face.

"Too late, you're already in the car," she shrugs and he fakes outrage.

"That's kidnapping."

"Hey, you got in willingly," she laughs, looking at him when he laughs too, the sound making her heart beat faster. "I just want ice cream though," she adds, and he nods.

"Of course you do, but why is that stupid?"

"Because we are gonna go out into the world, I don't wanna sit in the car."

"The stupid part here is the risk of getting recognized then, got it."

"For all intents and purposes, we're selling the idea you're my boyfriend now so who the fuck cares if we get spotted together?"

"That's the spirit."

For some reason, Lena hadn't thought about what the batch of promo she would be doing between the legs of the tour meant for her and Calum until she had all her stuff taken down and was about to be ushered into the van to catch a plane to somewhere she wasn't sure where it was. They had three weeks off, at least the band had, she would only get a few days before having to meet the boys for the first show of the North America leg, she was in full promo mode and her team was driving her crazy.

But as she thought about how Calum had said goodbye, too quickly for her to fully process it, she couldn't help but feel anxious. This would be the longest they would be apart since whatever was happening between them had started. And she didn't know what to expect. Things between them had been easy enough she didn't think she had anything to worry about until she was standing in an empty hotel room, looking around to see if she had forgotten something only to find one of Calum's flannels on the couch in the corner.

And suddenly worrying was all she could do, even though she knew she couldn't make any demands. What would they do when the tour started again? Go back to just being friends? Stay in the routine of sneaking into each other's hotel rooms and hooking up in what sometimes felt like any space where they could get alone long enough for sex to happen?

Sure, it wasn't just sex. No matter what Calum said about not giving her a relationship, something more was going on between them. They talked more, they laughed more and Lena couldn't remember the last time they were in a hotel and she fell asleep alone. It was as if removing that line between them that they had danced around for years had them settling into a level of comfort with each other she never had with anyone else. But sometimes she did worry if it was all about proximity. So she was worried about whether the distance between them would change things again. She knew how quickly their relationship could shift. Had things been permanently altered or would this put them back the way they were before they acted on the attraction between them? Could she ever go back if he wanted to, knowing what it was like to have him, all of him? She wasn't sure.

But standing there wasn't going to change anything. She had to leave. There was a plane she needed to be on and she would have plenty of time to wonder if that morning before Calum left had been her last chance to kiss him and just pretend he was hers for a while.

She had just finished checking the front pocket of her backpack to make sure she had her passport and was clutching the fabric of Calum's flannel as she glanced around one more time when the door opened.

"Hey," Calum said, walking in, looking a little breathless under the carefree expression he was wearing as he closed the door behind him.

"Hi," Lena answered, eyeing him suspiciously, "you forgot this," she added, offering him the flannel and he nodded, taking it and putting it on over his t-shirt so he wouldn't have to carry it, "I was about to go find you."

"I thought I should walk you down," he said, stepping closer to her. He was staying there another day, doing some exploring, like Ashton liked to say, so there was no rush for him to leave.

"Okay," she giggled, "let's go then, 'cause I don't need Sylvia yelling at me," she added, adjusting the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and moving to walk around him. She knew not to wait for anything other than him just walking next to her, there was no telling who could see them, so she was surprised when he grabbed her hand.

"Wait," he told her, pulling her to him and she barely had time to react before he was kissing her. And there was nothing calm about it, the way he was kissing her made her head spin as she held on to him.

"Okay, now we can go," he said, pulling away from her, leaving her chasing his lips before she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back to her. She wanted more. She wanted to map out the way kissing him felt like in case she didn't have the chance to do it again and that was what she did. She focused on the feeling of his lips on hers and his hands on her body and the feelings coursing through her.

"Now we can go," she laughed, a little breathless, pulling away from him and moving to the door. She knew he would follow her. And they walked down to the parking lot, after giving the key cards to her manager, Lena rambling about how excited she was for this round of interviews while Calum watched her with a grin on his face that made her heart beat faster.

He pulled her in for a hug, after checking to see if the parking lot was in fact empty, and she breathed him in before pulling away.

"I'll see you in a few weeks," she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before going into the van, putting the backpack on the seat before sitting closer to the open door to wait, leaning into the frame.

"Yeah."

Lena half expected him to turn around and leave, but he surprised her again by looking around, hoisting himself into the van, kissing her one more time, way too fast for her liking, before going back out, at the same time her manager showed up with the rest of her team.

"Bye, love," Calum said, winking at her, making her laugh, "call me when you land."

“Did you ever think about how fucked up it is that we spend so much of our lives moving?” Lena asks, slamming the car door closed as Calum stops next to her.

“Are you getting philosophical on me?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at her and she shakes her head.

“No, I mean literally,” she explains, and they start moving to the ice cream shop.

“That somehow makes even less sense,” he chuckles and she looks up at him.

“We are always on vehicles, you know? Cars, vans, buses, planes,” she lists, counting her finger and his eyebrow furrow as he studies her.

“Why are you thinking about that?”

“You mentioned running, I started thinking about planes, got into a little existential crisis,” she shrugs, pressing her lips together.

“And decided to drag me with you?" Calum teases, raising an eyebrow at her.

“It’s because you have a headstart on me, I was wondering if you ever had that moment, so, you know, thought I’d do some dragging, ask if you ever wanted to just stop moving." Lena sounds more frustrated than she expects and she chews on the inside of her cheek as she waits for him to say something.

"So you are getting philosophical on me." He looks so understanding, it's disarming.

"I guess," she sighs, scratching her neck and he cooks his head looking at her before reaching around her to open the door.

"Yeah, I have," he says, holding the door open for her to walk into the shop and she murmurs a thank you as she walks in.

"What do you do about it? How do I make the feeling go away?" She asks, stopping suddenly, looking at him and he has to hold out his hands, landing them on her waist so he wouldn't hit her.

"What makes you think I'm any better at it than you?" He laughs, guiding her to the line and she doesn't miss the way his hand stays on the small of her back.

"I mean, everyone seems better at this than me right now, so," she shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant but he can clearly see through it.

Calum seems to be trying to find the right words to say but before he could it's their turn to order and it's not until they are sitting on opposite sides of one of the booths that he speaks again.

"I know that's the worst possible answer, and I sound like a bad self-help book, but you gotta find what works for you."

"Running really works for me," she says, digging into her sundae and he laughs.

"Maybe try calling it a vacation the next time."

"But that's boring," she fake-complains, pouting a little too hard.

"You can always lean into the chaos," he chuckles and she sighs.

"But then I have to deal with the consequences and I'm tired of the consequences," she says, looking down and swirling the spoon around the glass dish.

"Love," Calum's voice is careful and she looks up at him, not letting him continue.

"There's gotta be a better way than imploding my life, that's all I'm saying," she shrugs, shoving ice cream in her mouth in an act that doesn't seem nearly as carefree as she would hope.

"Well, you can find different outlets, but knowing you that would just distract you from the problem, maybe try therapy? That helped me."

"Oh, I am," she tells him, and he laughs at the look on her face.

"Not as instantaneous as you thought it would be, right?"

"Why can't she just fix me?" She complains with a laugh, moving her arms dramatically around her and getting a pressed-lip smile as an answer. Calum's watching her and the look in his eyes makes her feel uneasy. She can't tell what he's seeing in her face but she can't tell he doesn't like seeing it.

"I'm sorry," he says after a beat. So that's what the look was. Guilt.

"What I did is not on you, you know."

"Yeah, but what I did to you is, and I am sorry for my part in it."

"And I forgave you already so, if we want this to work, I need you to stop apologizing."

At first, Lena thought she was imagining the taps on her window. She was still feeling loopy and she was exhausted after the day she had but she couldn't get comfortable. She didn't know if it really was the stitches and the bandage or if it was just how she was extremely aware of them. But the sound happened again and she could swear she heard her name, so she got up, moving to the window. She frowned as she opened it, feeling confused. Were the painkillers enough to get her hallucinating?

"Why are you on my window?" She whispered, carefully leaning forward so she could talk to Calum.

"You weren't answering and your mum won't let me in." He looked anxious, trying his best to scan her through the window as he moved closer to her.

"Because you're an idiot who told her it was your fault," she rolled her eyes because her mum was driving her crazy over what happened, but she regretted the action when he flinched, guilt twisting his features.

"It was my fault." His voice was small even for the rushed whisper conversation they were having and it twisted her heart.

"I fell, it was not your fault," she assured him, but his eyes were still filled with guilt.

"How are you?" He asked, studying her as best he could through the window.

"I'm fine," she assured him but he gave her an unimpressed look.

"Lena."

"I got some stitches, there's some bruising, nothing to worry about." She was downplaying it and they both knew it. She knew it because she had nine stitches under her ribs on her left side towards her back on top of the bruising that came with landing too hard which made it hard for her to even move her arm. He knew it because he saw it as it happened. She didn't see the cut, it was out of her line of sight and she wasn't tempted to try, but the panicked look on Calum's face as Coach ran to her was not something she would forget any time soon.

"I'm sorry."

"It was an accident."

"But-" he tried and she knew he would continue to try and take the blame if she let him talk.

"Calum, were you trying to hurt me?"

"Of course not!" He exclaimed, loud enough for her to worry her mum may have heard it, but she didn't really care.

"Then accept it wasn't your fault, and that I'm fine," she said, but he was still looking anxiously at her. "Just get in," she said, sounding exasperated and moving back so he could climb through the window. "See? I'm fine," she joked, motioning to herself once he was in and he stopped, looking at her.

Calum seemed to determine she was fine because, after a few seconds, she was being pulled into him. The hug would've been tight enough to leave her breathless on a good day, and it felt good after the day she had, but she couldn't stop the pained whimper that escaped her when his arm hit the stitches.

"Shit, sorry," he reacted by letting go of her, taking a few steps back, guilt back to twisting his features when she winced as she touched her side, "are you okay?"

"We already established that I'm fine," she said, closing the distance between them again and wrapping her arms around his middle, "but you won't be if you don't hug me back in the next second," she threatened, hiding her face on the crook of his neck when he didn't move, "I know you got scared but I was the one that was stuck in the ER, so can you just fucking hug me?" She complained, grabbing his arms and placing them around her shoulders and he laughed, tightening his arms around her.

"Are you sure you're fine?" He asked, his face hidden in her hair and she chuckled.

"They let me out of the hospital so how bad could it be?" She mumbled into his skin, before stepping away from him.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he said and she cocked her head, looking at him.

"Hey, all you did was kick a ball," she said, fighting the urge to reach for his hand or caress his cheek given the way he was looking at her.

"I shouldn't have-"

"Oh sure, the footballer shouldn't have kicked a ball,” she interrupted him, rolling her eyes and giving him an unimpressed look, “it was a streak of bad luck, Cal, you had no way of knowing I wasn't gonna be able to catch that, no one in the school had any idea that nail had been dislodged and it sure as fuck was bad luck that I managed to miss the step and land in a way that made that nail drag across my-" she stopped talking when he flinched, and they stared at each other for a beat before his expression softened.

"You're not usually this logical," he pointed out and she shrugged.

"I've been trying to convince mum it wasn't your fault all afternoon," she complained, letting out a dramatic groan and he shook his head.

"Why?"

"She took my phone because you wouldn't stop texting, I needed to do something.”

"So that's why you haven't been answering?"

“Obviously, when did I not answer you?” She said, giving him an annoyed look and he chuckled, “also I had a feeling I might have to convince you you didn't do anything wrong."

“I’m still unconvinced,” he said and she frowned at him.

"If you need me to say it, I forgive you for forgetting I have no athletic inclination," she joked, playfully hitting his chest and he nodded.

"Yeah, what was I thinking believing you could catch a ball without landing yourself in the ER," he deadpanned, and something about it had her breaking down laughing before feeling the stitches and stopping, touching her side.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts," she complained with a pained chuckle and his face went serious again.

"Did they tell you how long?" Calum asked, scratching his neck.

"I have to go back next week to get the stitches out, but the doctor said the bruising from the way I landed may last longer.”

"This sucks."

"Maybe it will leave a cool scar," she shrugged, pressing her lips together, and he sighed.

"I should go before your mum catches me in here," he said, pointing back to the window and she nodded.

"Okay."

"I'll see you in school tomorrow?" He asked and she shook her head.

"I have a doctor's note, so probably not."

"Right,” he agreed, thinking for a second before adding, “I'll stop by after practice then, bring your homework, maybe your mum will let me in then."

"I'll continue to try and convince her it wasn't your fault."

"Thanks," he kissed the side of her head, moving back to the window, but he stopped before he reached it, "Lena?" He said, turning back, and she scratched her neck.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he said, stepping back closer to her and she blinked at him a couple of times.

"I know, I don't need to hear it just because I got hurt," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. It was not like they had never said that to each other before, hell, Calum would end every call with a cheerful “love ya” when he was in Brazil a few months back, but the look on his face felt too serious.

"But I need to say it, you're my best friend, and today sucked, so I need to say it,” he explained, his face intense and Lena wasn’t sure how to react.

“Sweetheart,” she breathed, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to say, so she just moved to wrap her arms around his waist again, "I love you too," she said, head on his chest when he wrapped his arms around her, "you're, like, my favorite person in the planet."

"So can we not go all deep and emotional? At least not right now," she asks, crossing her arms on the table and leaning her chin on top of it, looking at him with pleading eyes, making him laugh and lean back in his seat.

"I'm all for following your lead, remember?"

"Right," she nods, feeling her cheeks heating up as she watches him.

She's not really thinking when she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of him, the spoon in his mouth and chocolate on his cheek making her act before she processes what she's doing.

"What was that?" Calum asks with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at her and she shrugs, putting the phone facing down on the table before she can stare at the picture for too long.

"You have chocolate on your cheek."

"So you just took a picture?"

"Yeah," she nods, smiling when it takes him a few tries to clean his cheek.

"Why?"

"Because you're cute," she blurts out, her eyes widening when she notices she said it out loud and he laughs.

"Thanks?"

"Yeah," she drops her forehead to her arms for a second, before looking back at him, letting out a "hey" and sitting up straight when he takes a picture of her too.

"Gotta keep things fair," he teases and she can't help but laugh.

"Idiot," she complains, focusing on her almost-finished ice cream.

"You started it," he shrugs, smiling at her. It's not until that moment that it occurs to her that this feels like a date. And she doesn't know how to feel about it. "Love?" He frowns at her, maybe she's wearing her feelings on her face, and she shakes her head.

"Sorry, I got-" she starts but her phone buzzes in a familiar pattern that lately makes her skin crawl. And she stares at it as it does it again. And a third time that makes her grimace at it like it's radioactive.

"What's wrong?" Calum asks, eyebrows furrowed as he studies her and she sighs.

"Sylvia," she explains, picking the phone up and unlocking it, it would be worse if she ignored it, clicking the notification to find an inquiry as to what she's doing and if she was with Calum and a link. To fucking Twitter. With a picture of them.

"Fuck that was fast," Lena mumbles, sliding in the seat so she could get closer to him to show him the texts.

"Still don't care?" He asks when he finishes reading it and she shakes her head.

"Nah, we look cute," she says, pulling the tweet her manager had linked her to and showing it to him. The picture really is cute, the wilder angle getting the whole booth, her arms crossed on the table, her chin leaning into them as she looks at him, and he's smiling at her, leaning back against the seat. But it does have her looking at the window from where she thinks it was taken.

"What do you think would happen if I liked this?" Calum asks, snapping her out of her thoughts and making her giggle.

"Chaos?"

"And if I retweeted and tagged you?" He has a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow at him.

"I thought I was the one doing stupid shit?"

"Why is it stupid?" He challenges and she presses her lips together.

"I don't know."

"Wait, I have a better idea," he says, pulling out his phone and she laughs when she realizes what he's planning.

"You do remember I don't have access to my official accounts anymore, right?"

"Good thing you're not the only one in this then," he teases, bopping her nose, making her laugh.

"Can I at least see the picture before you do whatever you're about to do?"

"Nah."

"But-"

"Relax, it's a good picture," he says, posting it to his story and she shakes her head, feeling resigned.

"Okay then, give me your phone."

"Why?"

"We might as well go all out," she says, sending the picture she took earlier to him and putting her phone down while taking the phone from his hand and sliding closer to him.

"No soft-launching then, huh?" She laughs, after hitting post, clicking on the bubble with his picture to see the picture he posted of her. And it's a bit weird for her to see the fond look in her eyes as she looks at a point slightly above the camera, so she leans back in the seat. Only realizing Calum had his arm on the seat behind her when she hit it, and suddenly she's extremely aware that she's pressed against his side. Even more when he drapes his arm around her shoulders.

"It's not like I never posted anything with you before," he says, accepting the phone she's handing back.

"You haven't in a while, though, or me posting you for that matter," she says, relaxing into him, even if just unconsciously, her head dropping to his shoulder. "Should we get out of here before someone finds out where we are and decides to come check?" She adds after a beat and he nods.

"I think yes," he says, sliding out and offering her his hand, she takes it and lets him hold it on the way back to her car.

"I don't wanna drive, though," she tells him, crinkling her nose while offering him her car keys. And the laugh she gets in response is enough to keep her smiling all the way home.

_____

I don't have a taglist but hit me up if you want to be tagged.

#wjdbieo #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #calum hood fic #i still dont know how to tags fics yay lslskslsmslslsoks

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boowhumps · 1 year

Text

|WHUMPRIL 2023|

|Day 18 ~ Abandoned|

(@whumpril)

⚠TW⚠

- Lab Setting

- Experiments

- Death

- Mention of Guns

- Swearing

----------------

The blaring alarms rang out endlessly. We ran down the corridors, trying to find an exit.

"Karyme-?" I ask.

Karyme doesn't say anything, as always. She just continues to drag me along.

Gunshots flare up behind us and Karyme pushes me into the nearest room. She shuts the door behind herself and sighs.

My eyes stare widely at Karyme. She would know what to do.. right?

The gunshots continue making us both flinch. I whince and cover my ears.

I open my eyes to find Karyme staring at me.. well.. more like the wound in my arm.

Her eyes glare at it, and then go up to glare at me.

"It's okay, it doesn't even hurt.." I whisper.

Karyme seems unconvinced but she just sighs and goes back to sitting silently.

The door to the room we're hiding in starts shaking. Karyme ears sharply stand up and she whips around to face the door.

Her eyes shoot to where I'm huddled up and she gives me a 'hide' look.

I immediately scramble and hide under a desk, my hand over my mouth.

The door shoots open and I hear a snarky laugh.

"Well, if it isn't 11118-7. Did you really think that you could hide?" It says.

Theres silence for a couple seconds, then a 'click' sound fills the room.

Tears begin to form in my eyes as I recognize the sound.

"Now.. Who else is with you.. Maybe 12515-1..? Or.." The voice trails off.

A gunshot goes off in the room, and I choke back a sob.

"Alright mutt, where the hell is 1135-6?" The voice curses.

Silence.

Two more gunshots ring out, but the second one ends with a startled gasp.

My eyes go wide. They shot Karyme.

"I'll ask again, where is-" The voice is cut off by a slashing sound and a "fuck-!"

Footsteps run out of the room and out of reach from my ears.

I quickly scramble out of my hiding spot and run down the opposite corridor that I heard the footsteps go down. I know that Karyme ran off to buy me time to escape.

More gunshots go off far away from me, but I keep running.

I soon reach the exit door, but I frantically searched around for Karyme.

She wasn't anywhere, and I was freaking out. More and more gunshots went off.

And then an ear piercing scream.

And silence.

All I could hear at that moment were my own gasps of air.

Then I heard footsteps.

Karyme came around the corner, clutching her side.

My eyes go wide. She's bleeding everywhere.

I rush over to her and that's when I hear how raggedy her breathing is.

"Karyme.. you're hurt.." I mumble.

Her eyes stare at me in a 'I'm okay' look, but I know she isn't.

She practically drags herself over to the exit door and without missing a beat she throws herself against it to get it to open.

"Karyme stop!" I cry, but she doesn't listen.

I'm in tears by the time the door gives in and opens, and Karyme turns to look at me.

She walks over and cups my face in her free hand.

I stare at her, "Why..?" I barely manage to say.

She says nothing.

I don't know why, but the silence angers me.

"Why did you do that!? You're hurt!" I cry out. "I don't want you to die!"

Before I know it, Karyme pulls me into a hug. She's comforting me even though I yelled at her.

I sob into her shoulder. I can feel her blood staining my gown but I don't even care.

For a moment, theres peace..

But nothing good lasts forever.

Both of us hear the footsteps approaching, and Karyme takes no time in pushing me behind herself, her tail swishing back and forth.

Both of our eyes widen at the sight of.. him.

His eyes study us both, and the gun in his hand moves around a bit.

I feel goosebumps on my skin knowing that he must've heard my cries and found us that way.

"Well.. I'm surprised to see you both here. I thought you both escaped the second we were raided." The doctor hums.

He raises the gun in his hand.

"Now.. which one of you will I take down first.." He trails off.

He looks back and forth between us and then moves his gun so it's pointing at me.

I can feel the anger radiating off of Karyme as the gun clicks.

"Maybe you first.. Amelia." He says, and the way my name rolls off his tongue makes me shudder.

"I really hate for it to end this way.. you were both very valuable assets. I invested so much time and money into making you both the.. perfect hybrids.." He says, his words laced with fake sadness.

"But.. If I can't use you.. then I'll just take you down with me." He says.

And he fires.

Time seems to stop as he fires the gun, and I shut my eyes in preparation for what's about to hit me.

And then I'm pushed through the exit door.

The bullet hits the wall behind me, leaving a sound that echoes off the walls.

I look at Karyme, her eyes wide as she realizes she barely saved me.

I extend my hand towards Karyme and I watch as she approaches me.

My heart fills with joy, because we're about to escape and finally leave this hellhole behind.

Karyme gets closer.

And closer.

And just as she's barely away from me, she grabs the exit door and shuts it.

My heart stops. I push myself up and run towards the door.

I bang my fists against the door, screaming and crying.

The door only opens from the inside.

Karyme's trapped.

I desperately begin to punch the door, my knuckles scratching against the rusty steel.

Even as my knuckles begin to bleed, I don't stop.

Theres silence from the other side of the door.

Then gunshots.

Then a 'thump' sound.

Then silence.

A scream rips out of my throat.

I back away from the door, and I fall to my knees.

My body slumps over, and I lay on the cold and wet grass.

I curl in on myself and I rock back and forth, an old comfort mechanism I never grew out of.

Even when I hear the voices of a rescue group I don't get up.

I'm frozen in shock. My eyes create more and more tears but I don't let out a sound.

Even minutes later, when the rescuers do find me, I remain this way.

Even as I'm carried away to safety, my body remains numb.

And if when I'm in the ambulance, and I overhear some officers confirm that there were four casualties, I don't mutter a single word.

#whump #whumpril #whump writing #day 18 done!!!#guess who's back lol #got really unmotivated so i didnt write at all #starting to really regret that since now im like 6 days behind #idk how many more times ill post today (probs only 1 more)#ill try to catch up lol #enjoy <3

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undercoverpena · 2 years

Text

orange, yellow, red [ii]

matt murdock x fem!reader word count: 4.2k warnings: little angst, little heartbreak. an: thank you for all being so kind and even wanting a part two and making this into a lil' mini-series. I never expected this at all, I'm so touched and so in awe of your kindness.

series masterlist

+++++++++++++++++++

Ringing.

That’s all he hears first. Everything comes back to him slowly.

Why the ground is hard under him, why his body aches. His senses scrambled, and all he hears is dull ringing in the depths of his ears.

Groaning, pieces of the moments flood his mind, how he’d been walking, heading towards you. He’d been rattled, disappointed in himself and desperate to convince you to stay. He’d been sure he wanted to kiss you, that he was even going to. Half-wanting the heavens to open and shower down so he could place his mouth on yours under the rain. Because it was the most romantic of kisses, or so you’d once told him.

Something he’s never let go of.

The heavens didn’t open, though. But, something worse did.

Something which blew bricks from their places, shredding through the gala and flinging people from it’s path.

Like the two of you.

He’d been so close to you by the time he really heard the radio message, the one confirming it was clear to detonate. He’s even sure, now he thinks back, that he heard the numbers dialled to do so.

All he does know is how hot the air became, the sound of bricks pushing away as his desperation to get to you.

Now he needs his senses.

Needing to find you, to hold you, to know you're okay.

Because if you’d been inside, dancing like he’d wanted too, you wouldn't have been. Hell, he’s not sure either of you would have made it out. If you hadn’t charged off, unwilling to be around him any longer, there’s a chance he would have lost you.

He hated how God worked in mysterious ways.

And now there’s just ringing. His hand coming up to his head, feeling the slick of blood and the ash on his face. Matt brushes his hand down his cheek, down his neck to his collar, undoing the button and ripping the tie free from his neck. Then he hears the screaming.

All the anguished cries, all the shouts from people wanting to be found and those seeking. He’s listening, not able to turn it off, as it all blurs into one. All the sounds combine until it becomes unbearable.

Then, the sound gains sirens, tyres breaking on roads, horns beeping far away. His nightmare of a song gaining more layers as he fights through it, needing one sound and one sound only.

He smells the small fires nearby, nestled amongst brick; he can smell burnt flesh and raw wounds. On the tip of his tongue he can taste the destroyed building, and how there’s so much iron in the air.

It’s a mess, all of it. He doesn’t need sight to know that.

Matt knows, even in his suit—the one made for the night—couldn’t have changed the outcome. But, he blames himself nonetheless.

His fingers grasp at his glasses, unsure how they remained on. The pads of his thumb and index brush over the lenses of his glasses, finding half missing from the left and a large crack over the right. He doesn’t need to pull his phone out to know it’s broken from the state of his glasses, because he knows he landed on it, a pain radiating over his upper leg from landing on it.

Sliding his leg out, he groans as his muscles cry out. Moving, trying to breathe and stretch, he hears a soft whine. A low groan and a splutter of coughs.

He moves his hand out, finding skin he knows so well, a lower leg, and the feel of it—the feel of you beside him—compells him to move. His body crawling the short distance to be close to your face, hearing you whimper and wheeze.

But you’re alive.

You’re breathing.

Eyes stinging with relief, he cautiously cups your cheek slowly listening to your body. Sensing the cuts on your arms and legs, the large gash on your forehead, and the fractured rib you’re trying to breathe around. Then theres the bruises, the swelling which makes everything harder for you.

But your heart, oh that thunders. It bangs with determination, fighting for him to hear it just so he knows.

Stroking your skin, he feels you go still beside him, and christ he hopes you know it’s him. Wanting to whisper his apologies, knowing he did this to you. But also knowing you’d have it no other way.

He tries not to let his heart soar when your hand cups his, because he can practically hear your insults, even if you’re not speaking, and he just waits. The two of you lay there for a minute at most, but it feels like a glorious lifetime.

“I… hate… you,” you groan.

And he’s never been more thankful for those three words. Half-smiling to himself, biting his inner cheek as he lets a soft laugh escape as he strokes your cheek more purposefully, blinking the tears away.

Smirking, Matt licks his lips. “I’m glad you're not dead.”

You laugh, breathy and pained, but it’s there. And the movement releases the scent of your perfume so it washes over him, smothering the air around him in a way he craves when you’re not here. Your signature smell, the one you always wear when you’re around him as if you’ve attached a scent to your relationship with him.

He’s always wondered if it’s a purposeful choice. Whether you do it to help him in crowds.

Because while it doesn’t coat everything—like the rubble and fire, desecration and cuts—it tries to. It almost makes him forget where the two of you are until he feels you shifting, awkwardly moving as his hand falls from your face.

He hears you sit up, listening as you cough and splutter. Gasping as you stretch out the side with the rib, and he pushes himself up to join you.

“Matt…”

“Hmm.”

“We… We h-have to go.”

He pauses, hearing you cough before groaning as your muscles stretch, hearing you stand awkwardly, sensing there’s more injuries you’re trying to hide.

You need to go, is all he thinks. You need to get away from him.

But your hand hits him, forcing his head up. “Matt,” you say more firmly, hearing your heart pick up speed, “We really need to move.”

And then your hand pulls at him, his feet flattening as he comes to stand. The sound of sirens inching closer as your hand finds his.

Because even if he wants to protect you, if they know he’s here—if they know you’re here with him—you’re already in danger.

Danger he put you in.

“Murdock,” you say more forcefully. “Save the wallowing until we-we’re safe, alright?”

“No, you need—”

“What did I just tell you?” you say, words fading in and out as you turn your head, “We need to go, because I’m n-not letting you do this alone.”

Your fingers slot between his, holding his hand with as much determination as you can muster in your state.

“I’m assuming the building didn’t blow up because you were wrong about them. And I’m also guessing, you’re going to need help if the people you’re watching can blow up a building with a bunch of people in it.”

“I can’t ask you—“

“You’re not,” you say, cutting him off, holding his hand tighter. “I’m forcing myself on you. So, Murdock. We need to get out of here. Because either I've got a concussion or I’m tasting blood.”

+++

You glare as you eye the clothes he’s found for you. Undressing hastily, even if he can’t see you—see you—you know he can make his own image with his stupid senses.

Either that or he’s committed each curve, each angle to memory.

Even if an hour ago that benefited you, his fingers sewing the cut above your brow with as much precision as a surgeon with working eyes.

“I’m not looking.”

“I don’t believe you,” you snap, pulling your head through the top.

His lips curling into a smirk, those brown eyes finding you in their own way.

Of course, he’s picked clothes you know well. The old t-shirt and sweats. They’re not yours—having always belonged to him—but they may as well have been yours for how often you used to wear them.

You’d hand picked them from his drawers, all those years ago; a regular outfit for lounging at his in when you were waiting. When he found you, that first time, the way his hands slid over his clothes like he was reading you like braille. Then, it became a thing as you stretched your legs over him. He read, case files or information, and you sat secretly watching him. Until he mumbled about hating the layers being in the way of feeling your skin.

Even now, you blush remembering his words, suddenly realising he can sense that, trying to rid yourself of it with a stern expression.

“If you wanted to take me down memory lane, Murdock, you could have just ran out while I showered…”

He smiles, and you hate it, watching his eyes gleam. “I know how much you like my clothes. Those in particular.”

You hate him. “I’m shocked you kept them, half-assuming they’d have been given to one of your late-night callers..”

“I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”

“I’m touched.”

He just smirks.

You hate that he just smirks.

Mainly, though, you hate that you don’t really hate him. That you want to go over there and put a plaster on his brow and then work out if there’s any other cuts, if there are new scars. You want to have the kiss which knocked you on your ass. Because, deep down, that’s why you stopped outside the building.

The kiss, the need for him—the same need you constantly run from—is the reason you’re sure you have a fractured rib and a side full of bruises.

Most of all, you really hate that even if a building nearly came down on you, you’d do it all over again for him.

So you fold your arms, trying to guard yourself subconsciously. “What’s going on, Matt?”

“Matt, now?” he asks, handing you a beer. “You’re moving the posts here, sweetheart. How can I tell if you’re mad at me if you don’t call me Murdock?”

Sighing as you cross the room you snatch the beer, taking a large sip for something to do.

“It began with trafficking,” Matt says. “And a lot of other things. But, bombs are new. That was a surprise.”

Smirking, you take another sip. “What a new achievement they’ve unlocked. Surprising the devil.”

He snorts, and you shake your head.

“I think you may be way out of your league with this one.”

“I think you need to believe in me.”

You roll your lips, taking a seat as he leans on the counter. His shirt sleeves rolled up, dirt all over it and his tie removed. “You were almost blown up, Matt. Devilish senses, kick-ass fighting skills aside, you can’t outrun an explosion.”

“I can try.”

Smirking, you pick at the label. “Oh, I know you will. That’s what worries me.”

“Now I’m touched.”

Swallowing, your nail peels a piece of the label off, the coolness of the glass against your finger. “Who are you investigating?”

“Look, I shouldn’t have asked you to get involved, so if you need to—“

“Matt,” you snap, shaking your head. “As difficult, argumentative and self-sacrificing as you are, there’s nowhere else I need to be, OK? So, if you can keep the woe-me mentality to a minimum I’ll keep calling you Matt.”

His lips twitch before he smiles, moving around the counter, coming to stand beside you. “I do really like you calling me Murdock, though. It does something to me.”

“You need help,” you snarl, biting the inside of your mouth from saying anything more before you sigh loudly through your nose. “I need to make a call.”

His brow arches, and it says more than any of his words could.

Scowling, you pinch your nose. “I need my laptop if I’m going to be able to do anything useful. My phone is one nudge away from shattering.”

You watch him nod, the cockiness fading as you take your phone from your bag, unsurprised to find the screen shattered. But at least it works, that’s all you remind yourself as you scroll your contacts.

“I can hear you worrying.”

“Can you… just not do that? I’m pretty sure Foggy warned you about how intrusive that is.”

Matt tips his head. “He may have done.”

“And I’m not worrying, I’m just… choosing a person to ask.”

“Not wanting to ask… Barnes, was it?”

Gritting your jaw, you’re on the cusp of telling him you’re leaving. That he can do this alone.

But, you secretly think he wants you too. It would serve him for you to leave him to do this alone, because he’s selfless and stupid.

“If I ask Barnes, he won’t leave.”

“And you don’t want him here?”

Shifting, you swallow gently. Not wanting him to hear, even if you know he already has.

No, because you’ll both start a pissing contest is what you want to say. “I trust him with my life, Matt. But, you and him are both assholes and I can only deal with one of you at a time.”

“So are we assholes because we both care or because we both like—?”

“Because you’re both martyrs. Because I apparently have a type, and that type is finding people who are assholes.”

Because I seem to get feelings for people who need saving.

But you don’t say that, because even if it’s true, it’s not like you’ve saved either.

Matt still pushed you away and Bucky barely talks to you whenever the moments between the two of you get too much.

You want to tell Matt you haven’t so much as kissed Bucky, but it’ll add fuel to a fire which isn’t even really burning. Not wanting to tell Matt that he’s the entire reason you’re still holding on, that he’s the reason you’re wanting to better yourself. That if he asked you to run, you wouldn’t even ask where.

Because it’s him, it’s always been him.

And always will be.

Even if Bucky cares, even if Bucky ever finds it in himself to let you in.

A part of you still belongs to Matthew Murdock.

And you don’t hate that, nearly as much as you should.

Because you think a part of him belongs to you too.

Matt smirks, downing more of his beer as he tilts his head. “So you do like him?”

Snorting, you scroll to the only name you know won’t give you too much crap, hovering your finger over Sam’s number.

“Shut up, Matthew.”

+++

Matt shouldn’t ever be surprised by your brilliance. Yet he always is.

Even if there have been a multitude of ways over the years you’ve shown him how brilliant you are. He forgets the way you can make things happen, how you’ve always been able to make things happen.

Firstly, he’s impressed by how you’re able to get your laptop to you without his apartment being flooded with people who have metal limbs, shields and wings. He agrees to remain in the kitchen, but he doesn’t agree to not listen.

Smirking to himself as you convince the laptop-bringer that you’re fine, the cut will heal and there’s nothing worth visiting a hospital for. He listens as the man reminds you that you have people, something you decline flattly, but adding if it changes you’ll call him first. He’s pleased when he senses the man hesitate, hearing at least why you trust him—how he wants to argue but doesn’t likely because you’re giving him a face Foggy called you, ‘Silencing Face’.

Matt learns his name is Sam through your exasperated groans, and he deduces he’s the one with the wings only from your quips and teasing.

I’ll buy you a few days, but when your Tin-man gets restless—I don’t care how much I love you, I ain’t taking that arm on again. Thank you, Sam. Don’t thank me. Alright? Just… don’t end up dead. I won’t hear the end of it from Steve. Especially when he finds out I’ve seen you. I owe you. Yeah, you do. But, your debt is paid when you come back with all your limbs. Noted, Sam.

When you return, he expects you to be jumpy, to have a hammering pulse and sweat on your skin. But you don’t, as if this is all so normal for you. If anything, there’s a skip in your step.

He does suppose he’s put you through a lot.

He’s likely trained you for this without realising, remembering how you adapted quickly from the first few weeks of waiting for him to return from nightly activities to how you were at the end. How you had talked about encrypting his phone, getting an ear piece for him.

All things he rejected, and the men you now work with seem to have profited from: your kindness and your unwavering need to help.

When you begin typing, he sits behind you. His legs are so close to your back, your heartrate increasing each time he flexes his leg out.

He forgets how quickly you are to get to the bottom of something. The annoying itch you have, which only a handful of people do. How good you are at investigating; how good of a lawyer you’d have been if you had gone down that route.

You rarely lose your shit, instead focusing on facts to still you, even if you want to run—your body thrumming with nervousness. Just like the night you found out who he is. You didn’t run out the door. Instead, you asked for a beer, and you sat in silence for several minutes before asking him if you needed to brush up on your stitching or if you needed to get a getaway car.

Clearing his throat, he senses you skip a beat. “You know, you’re going to miss training.”

It’s quiet, but you laugh. He could have almost missed it, if he didn’t have such good hearing.

“I am.”

“But, You made a promise.”

“I did,” you say with a smile, hearing your lips crack as it widens and your heart skips. “But, I don’t think you’re one to lecture me on breaking promises, are you?”

Your spunkiness has always been one thing he loved.

Even if it varies, from playful to wounding.

He wouldn’t change it about you. Even if your words cut him deep, the way you’re so quick has always secretly made him smile.

“I’m not sure your colleague will agree.”

“Becareful there, Matty,” you say teasingly. “Your jealousy is almost showing. Almost. Now, silence while I work my magic working out if we’re dealing with internationals or locals.”

Shaking his head, he does go silent.

But only because he’s scared he’ll say too much.

Tell you that he’ll never stop being jealous—he’s never stopped, period. How he’ll never stop being mad at himself for letting you go in the first place. How he shouldn’t have missed an anniversary and he should have paid more attention to the words you never said.

The ones you were practically screaming.

So, now he listens. Even if he doesn’t want to.

Focusing instead on the way your pulse steadily beats or nails on the keyboard.

“OK, I take it back. Talk,” you mutter. “Your thoughts are driving me insane.”

Smiling, he drains his beer as his hand reaches out, stroking your back ever so slightly. Feeling you still before you settle, and how your skin goes warm, your ears and cheeks sizzling in the coolness of the room.

You don’t need his special skills to read him, you’re in tune with him as much as he is with you. The two of you know each other deeper than others, even if you like to think you don’t. Convincing yourself that others know him better, not knowing how far from the truth that really is.

He doesn’t speak, but neither do you.

Instead he draws circles and you continue, the two of you settled, comfortable.

He could almost convince himself no time passed since your breakup with how normal it all feels; he could almost forget a building nearly flattened you both.

Until he hears you yawn, feels you trying to shift in your cross-legged position. Because you’re wavering, the adrenaline now having worn off and the beer having soothed you.

He suspects, from how you don’t move your left side as much, that the pain in your side has been increasing as you’ve been sitting on the floor.

He wanted you to sit on the sofa or the other chair, but you had told him you like the floor. Something he knew already, but still didn’t argue with. He didn’t fight because you allowed him to sit close to you. Using the coffee table as a desk as you cross and uncross your legs every now and again.

And selfishly, he just needed to be close to you.

To have a chance to be around you for longer than a coffee break or a quick catch up. He tried to put distance between you, he did. He tried to do as you asked and let you move on. But he knew, like he always has, that the two of you can’t ever keep apart for long.

Even with your career choices and new found skills.

Your movements pulls him from his thoughts as you push your laptop across the table, groaning into your hands before yawning.

“So, tell me again how you even began on this… crusade.”

Matt shifts in his chair, fingers falling from your back. “An old client heard some rumblings and informed me. I don’t think they expected it to be… well, what it’s become.”

“How kind of him,” you grumble, turning on the floor to face him. “Let me guess, Castle is now trying to remain underground or has he deemed this band of villains not worthy of Punisher-level-bullet-holes?”

This is another reason why he shouldn’t be surprised by you.

Feeling your eyes watching him, waiting for his reaction.

“How do you know Castle?”

You don’t react, not a flicker of your heartbeat, or a shift in your muscles. “You’re adorable. Actually, remarkably cute.”

“Funny,” he says. “But, I'm serious.”

“Oh, I know, Matty,” you say, saying his name with a pop.

He feels you watching him, your gaze flicking over his face. Likely waiting for him to react, but he swallows it and you shift in the silence.

You’ve always hated it, silence.

He remembers it from when you’d been dating, playing music until he climbed in the window. If I'm going to wait up for my boyfriend to come home, I'm not going to do it in an uncomfortable silence. The following week he got you a radio, not a great one, but one you thoroughly thanked him for all the same.

“Do you want another beer?” you ask, hearing you stand, gaze falling from him. “Because I think I need another beer.”

He hears you cross the room, your feet not fully flat on the wood as you do so.

How, even across the room, you’re trying to not let him hear how quick your heart is pounding as you pause at his fridge.

But he knows.

Matt wants to be good, wants to respect your wishes and just remain friends. Even if he doesn’t believe you can be, even if it’s driving him insane being so close and not having you wrapped all around him.

He bounces his knees, biting the skin on his figner, listening as you slowly open the fridge, before he decides to stand—as if on autopilot.

He considers sitting as soon as he’s standing, fingers twitching at his side before his feet take over. His legs pushing him across the room, crossing the room in record speed, as though knowing the rest of him will regret it if he doesn’t.

You haven’t looked up, not even as his hand outstretches, shutting the fridge door shut as you step back with a slight gasp. The beer in your hand falling to the floor with a crack.

Then there’s only the sound of your breaths and the fizz from the beer on the wooden floor before it’s mixed with your breaths in and out; his breaths out and then in.

Then your lips part, the sound so loud in the silence.

He wants you to tell him no, to recognise what this is and tell him to stop.

He doesn’t want to go too far, and he doesn't want to move in case you run from him.

But he also can’t ignore it, the pull, the way your heart beats and skin warms. Mostly he can’t ignore how he’s smiling, how you're breathing deeper—even if you’re trying not to.

So he takes another step closer, body almost flush with yours as he grasps your hip, squeezing ever so slightly as his other hand holds your chin, thumb stroking your bottom lip as he hears you swallow.

Waiting, and hoping, he’s not read this all wrong.

[an: oh, I'm not sorry at all... let me know if you want to be added to my tag list of 'will matt ever kiss you']

taglist: @f1nal-g1rl @ponyboys-sunsets @rattlethe-stars @moonlightmvrvel @nipple-twisting-washing-machine @mischiefmanaged71 @speedysimp @jackie5656 @marvelwhore27 <3

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x you #daredevil mcu #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil tv

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kio-may · 2 years

Text

Part 3 ー The Sky Darkened

----

Maleficent!AU Malleus x reader

A/n: aaaahhhhhhhhhh hope yall like this one 😎👍 its like 1.2k words

Also the timeline is kinda chopped up theres flashbacks theres future backs theres everything thats set in a certain way so like read til the end before saying anythinf 😭 u will understand it better then

also, please do send in an ask if you want to be tagged for a specific post. i will soon be making a proper taglist where i mention everyone.

Taglist: @candyk0rn

-----

He remembers that day.

"There they are!" The gruff voice boomed through the dry grasslands, grey and soft clouds covering the sky. The grass swayed gently with the cold air. A storm was coming.

"The mysterious Moors, where no one dares to venture!"

His wings stiffened, his eyes widened. This was not your voice.

"Well I say, crush them!"

He took off, his wings moving swiftly in the now suffocatingly thick, icy air. He landed on a rock, right across the army.

The King's army.

His pupils were slitted, and shone with an ominous, dreadful green color. He glared at the King in disgust,

"Go no further!" He shouted, his voice basically vibrating through their bodies. The King was shaken for a moment. Fae were truly much more different from humans.

"A king," he hesitated, before a foolish and smug grin stretched his wrinkly face, "does not take orders from a winged elf!"

The army laughed, and the air seemed to drop in temperature even more.

"You are no king to me."

His voice cut through the field, and the laughter quickly turned into hushes and became silent.

"Bring me his head."

A war cry.

"My lord?" Red eyes peered from the dark, an unusual ruby like color, that somehow glimmered even in the shadow. "There seems to be a celebration."

Malleus glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "A celebration? Curious." His fingers dragged along an old brick windowsill-like structure, a continuous scratching sound following. He rested his chin on the back of his hand,looking at the sky and sighing deeply.

The pain on his back still ached.

"Yes there seems to be.." the boy hesitated.

"Yes? Go on." Malleus now played around with green aurora-like flames that delicately balanced on his fingertips, no longer interested in the ugly,grayish-yellow sky.

"There's been a boy. The Queen has had a child."

"Oh" Malleus blinked for a moment. He thought of you. For a moment his chest hurt. He took a deep breath.

Malleus paused for a second, the green flames absorbed into his palm once again, he stared expressionless at his empty palm.

"A grand celebration; for a baby." He said out loud. The boy stepped a bit closer, coming into the little light that slipped in through the rough brick like windowsill. Red, slitted eyes looked expectantly.

---

"You will not have the Moors! Not now; not ever! You!-"

He flew backwards, a sudden flash of pain stung his skin.

Iron.

The skin promptly healed, but the pain still echoed through his body, dull and unbearable. He stared at the struggling body of the King, as one of the Dark creatures approached his side, the army retreating and distant cries of anguish.

---

It was only a few days later after that. He should've seen it. He should have known better. They're humans, after all; what can you expect?

He never suspected you. A part of him wishes bitterly, that he should have. That he should have turned you away, that he should have never met you, that maybe, just maybe, that day he should have let the guards just kill you instead.

A different part of him does not wonder. It stays silent, and it pushes down the horrible thoughts he has, it tugs on them violently, ripping and dragging,until they quiet down, like a feral dog left to a wicked hunter.

Like a crow caught in a net.

"Ha! I've got ye!" The man smugly spoke; rather barked, at the crow that helplessly flauntered in the net, desperate to get out. The dog also growled at the crow.

"I'll whack ya-"

"Into a man" a flick of his wrist, and the crow started to enlarge.

The man sputtered and stumbled back, looking in sheer terror at the crow that started to deform and grow, it's "caw"s deepening and its skin stretched as its feathers brittled off what seemed to be its back.

The man ran away with his dog, and the crow- boy, now, pulled the net over his head, staring at his fleshy, new hands in horror. Malleus moved out of the dry tall grass and approached the short boy.

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "What have you done to my beautiful self?"

"Would you rather I let them beat you to death?" Malleus responded, coldly.

"I'm not certain" the boy looked over at his new body.

"Stop complaining. I saved your life."

…

"Forgive me"

"What do I call you?"

"Lilia", he turned to face him directly, "and in return for saving my life, I am your servant."

Malleus simply looked at him expressionless.

"Whatever you need." His ruby eyes lowered in respect.

"Wings." He whispered. "I need you to be my wings."

---

"She did this to me, so she.."

Lilia stood across, his eyes lowered. Of course, he thought. He was the only fae without wings.

A loud, thundering beam of vicious green light roared into the sky, swirling the clouds violently. It flashed across the windows of the castle. Malleus gripped his staff in a death-like grip, his knuckles white. The beam slowly retracted into him again, a bit of the magic gently wavering and trickling around him, greatly contrasting the violent shock that stretched the sky apart a few seconds earlier.

"Now what, my lord?" Lilia's voice was barely above a whisper.

Malleus turned around and walked towards the heart of the Moors, thundering, dark clouds taking over the sky.

---

"The Queen seems to be sick"

"Oh?" You looked at Sebek, hint of concern in your eyes.

"Of course her highness is being tended to, but.." Sebek was gazing in the distance, lost in thought

Your hand trailed across the Palace walls, bedazzled window frames to sturdy and smooth gaps between them. The weather has been very bad recently, and the windows would sometimes vibrate from harsh gusts of cold air blown at them. You'd suspected a storm was coming, for a few days now, but it only remained the same, constantly teetering on the edge.

"It would be most unfortunate if she were to have gotten a bad case of the flu." You commented.

"No, some of the nurses suspect she's pregnant."

You stopped for a moment, and Sebek stopped beside you. No one else was in the hallway. "She is?" You didn't bother hiding your surprise.

"They suspect so. Some of the castle workers are hoping for some sort of celebration, either when she's announced to be pregnant, or when the child has been given birth".

You turn your eyes away for a moment in thought. A child.

You continued walking ahead, not giving it more thought. Sebek followed close.

---

"They've named him Silver"

The window in your room creaked a bit. The weather had calmed down a bit during the previous 9-10 months, and it was finally safe to open the windows without strong wind sloshing everything around in your room.

You overheard from one of the Palace maidens. The boy had beautiful, aurora colored eyes. Speckles of silver dotted his head, where hair had started to grow. The boy got most of his features from the Queen.

"They- they're going to hold a celebration!" He looked at you, frantically tapping his pockets to check for something, "they invited fairies from the Moors!"

You stilled for a second. It must have been the Queen. Only she may have known about it. Or the King was simply mocking you.

"Yes, Sebek,and we ought to welcome them.", you got up from your chair and walked towards the door, and Sebek followed closely behind as he stumbled on his words. You didn't quite notice the crow on your windowsill, or it's unusual red eyes.

----

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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So happy your requests are open and I don't mind the wait at all!

I just really want to see a sweet quirkless omega going into heat and sending her alpha Overhaul (Kai Chisaki) into a hard rut and he just pins her to a wall and fucks the life out of her before taking her to the bedroom to knot her.

but you do know that it would 100% be like "hate sex" on Chisaki's part (even though he kinda do like it lol)

(Kinda overhaul x reader x chrono btw but only for a little bit)

Just. Overhaul being able to tolerate you being kept at his compound because one, you're his mate, whether he likes it or not.

Two, you're quirkless.

And three? You don't bother him, you stay out of the way and you have passable hygiene when compared to Chisaki's standards.

But that has to be thrown out the window the second Chrono hauls you into Chisaki's office, the man in charge of watching you when Chisaki isn't around flustered and pink around his ears.

"B-boss, your omega, she's-"

"What the fuck is that smell." Chisaki growls, eyes immediately snapping to your trembling form. Taking in the way you're gasping, sweaty, barely able to stand even with Chrono's hand tight around your bicep and holding you up.

For some reason, the sight of Chrono touching you makes Chisaki itch. Odd, that usually wouldn't bother him.

The smell is cloying; too intense and too sweet, it makes his throat burn and his skin crawl.

"I think she's in-"

"Please, it hurts." You choke out, cutting off Chrono. "Need... I need-"

Chisaki recoiled as the scent got stronger, clouding his senses, making him feel... Chisaki didn't even know. Excited? Tingly?

Uncomfortable - he decided.

"Get her out. Give her a bath too, she smells disgusting." He commanded, but Chrono stepped forward instead of back out the door.

"Boss, she's in heat."

Heat?

Oh.

Overhaul cringed.

Logically, he knew it was going to happen eventually. But on the other hand, he had hoped his omega would be different. you was already quirkless, already pure... surely it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that you wouldn't be affected by the mindless heat-addling that Omega's all seemed to undergo?

His irritation was rising.

"So?"

Chrono looked at his boss with questioning eyes, unsure what to do with the omega becoming increasingly more distressed at his side.

"You'll get her over it." Chisaki decides, ignoring the bitter taste that floods his mouth as he utters those words. His eyes slide over you again, lip curling into a disgusted sneer.

"Messy thing."

Chrono is frozen in disbelief. But this isn't a test of his loyalty, Chisaki truly doesn't want to deal with the germs and the mess and the cleanup associated with omega's during their heats. Slick everywhere, pheromones staining the room, needy hands touching everywhere-

"Sit her down on the couch." He instructs his second-in-command, rising from his office chair and stepping around his desk so he can close the door. "I want to make sure you don't damage her."

That's the only reason. Only reason he wants to be present and watching while Chrono fucks you through your heat.

"You're serious then?" The white-haired man asks, removing the plague mask he wears while inside the compound, thus beginning the process of disrobing.

Chisaki waved his hand idly, resuming his position in his office chair with a tired sigh. "It'd be such a chore for me to do it myself. Aren't you an alpha yourself Chrono? You should be jumping at the chance to bed a nice quirkless omega."

Chrono shrugs off his white coat, looking up from where you're panting on the couch while he stands in front of you, eyes finding his boss. "I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries with your property."

The brunette smiles, not that anyone can see, but it's clear he's pleased by the crinkle near his eyes, the relaxed way he slumps in his chair. "And that's why you're my favorite Chrono."

You're wearing what you usually wear - long pants, a cozy sweater. Overhaul hasn't heard you complain about the chill in the compound, but it's clear to see it affects you by the way you dress and the way your nose darkens from the cold.

You don't fight the half-naked Chrono as he helps you out of your sweater, unbothered by the temperature of the room and looking entirely too hot and sweaty.

Chisaki supposes it's good that you aren't fighting. You had at first, when he first brought you here, crying and pleading for him to let you go and leave you alone. That pathetic show was quickly shut down with a simple demonstration of Overhaul's quirk, and what he'd do to you if you didn't comply.

Now you're seemingly accepting of the situation, casting nervous glances towards Chisaki, your attention constantly getting stolen by the pale man stripping in front of you.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Chrono has his cock in you.

And you look completely blissed out, mouth open and letting out choked little gasps on each thrust, one hand desperately trying to hold onto Chrono's shoulder, his arm, his chest - anything you can reach.

The other hand is on your stomach, and Chisaki doesn't understand why until he focuses on it, sees the distention whenever Chrono swings his hips into you.

Chisaki feels himself throb.

The sounds you're making sound like music. Awful music, all discordant and rushed and pornographic, stuttered breaths and pitiful cries, high-pitched and girlish moans in between Chrono's quiet huffs.

The sweet pheromones in the air become sweeter, thicker, and Chisaki can see the direct correlation between the smell and how much slick is dripping out of you, drenching Chrono's pretty cock, his stomach, even splattering his thighs on each thrust as his cock squelches deeper.

It's disgusting.

Digusting but curiously enamoring. Chrono's got you sitting on the couch, pushed up against the back while he fucks you. It's a tall piece of furniture, and Chrono merely hikes his leg up onto the cushions to gain a better angle to fuck you with. Your slick is everywhere; Chisaki knows that couch won't be salvageable after this. Somehow, he doesn't mind.

What he does mind, however, is the way Chrono is speeding up, rhythm stuttering and practically falling apart. He's going to knot you. Chisaki had given him full permission to - that's what taking care of an omega during their heat means, after all. But jealousy is boiling inside him, blood painfully engorging his cock, he feels tingly all over, very unlike himself.

He wants to touch you.

But you're a disgusting mess, smelling sweet and fertile and sweating and dripping everywhere. Chisaki can't believe he's feeling... attracted to you right now.

"O-ohh feels good, r-right there! Yes, thank you,t-than-" You mumble out, drunk on cock as you shudder through an orgasm, cream gushing out of your cunt and further dirtying Chisaki's office.

Chisaki sees red.

He's furious - not only at you, but at Chrono for touching you, and for himself for explicitly allowing it to happen. Chrono's about to knot you, claim you, and Chisaki is out of his chair before he knows what's happening.

"That's enough." And his gloved hands are ripping Chrono away from you, sending the other man reeling as his subordinate struggles to control his alpha instincts and stop himself from fighting his boss, tearing Chisaki to shreds for interrupting his mating.

Chisaki doesn't care, he's too focused on you.

"You're so pathetic." The man hisses at you, crowding into your space. When had he taken off his mask? He wanted to smell more of you.

His gloves are gone too, ripped away in a moment so he can feel your wet skin against his hands, feel the sweat beading your brow before those same fingers snap to undo his pants.

"I hate you, I hate you." He seethes, golden eyes staring at you so intently that you start to cry, overwhelmed with the situation, still craving a knot, craving intimacy and tenderness.

You've reduced him down to barely better than an animal, tearing at his clothes so he can sink into you, closing his eyes at the way you're wet and warm inside, perfect and velvety.

Chisaki doesn't know what's come over him. Normally he'd be disgusted, absolutely incensed at having such filth be in direct contact with his skin. But right now... all he feels is pleasure ripping through his veins, clouding his head, his mind, flushing rational thought down the toilet.

"Stupid, hate you-" his words rattle out on each rapid thrust, breath uneven and labored as his muscles stretch and work to fuck you harder and faster. He's building up to his peak.

One of his hands is fisted in your hair, close to your scalp and keeping you still, the other hand clamped firmly against your hip and making sure you don't wiggle away. Alpha instincts taking over as his brain convinces him to mate, breed, cum.

"You're so fucking dirty." He gasps, voice heated and gravelly as he struggles to fight through the heat taking over his body.

He's going into a rut.

Chisaki isn't supposed to do that. He takes supplements and suppressants to ensure he doesn't have too. Ruts are messy, nasty things to endure, and Chisaki would rather lick the floor of a dirty subway than experience one.

Yet here he is.

"You disgusting, wretched thing-" And you're crying, fat tears mixing with sweat and rolling down your chin. Chisaki feels disgusting himself, wanting to lick the liquid away.

He hasn't felt this good in his entire life, this burning fever pitch rising and rising and cresting, blazing along his nerves.

He can barely thrust his hips anymore, and only then does Chisaki realizes that he's popped his knot, jammed it in deep while you cried and moaned and struggled to hold onto him.

Theres a sick sense of satisfaction filling him up, his mind clears for half a second and Chisaki thinks to look over his shoulder, seeing Chrono still standing there with a soured look on his face, cock still swollen and drippy and bobbing purple against the man's stomach.

"Get out." Chisaki orders, and Chrono knows enough to merely pick up his coat and wrap it around himself before exiting the room. He's never seen his boss like this - so feral and unhinged and debauched like some regular dirty plebeian.

But Chisaki doesn't care. Odd.

He cares about grinding against you, feeling you milk every last drop of cum from his balls, shimmying his hips to hear you gasp and moan and clutch at his body, trembling like a little lamb.

Chisaki doesn't want to stop.

"As soon as my knot goes down-" He growls, lowering his face until it's mere inches from your own, breathing into your space. "I'm going to take you to my room and knot you until you break."

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