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peachesofteal · 1 month

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Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

#Ghoap x reader #angst #lmao #john soap mactavish #peaches writes #simon riley #thinking about the cool girl monologue #phone writing #I know there are mistakes in here

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suntoru · 4 months

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─ ✰ HEARTBREAK ANNIVERSARY.

─ SYNOPSIS: rin misses you. he wonders if breaking up with you was really worth it.

─ WARNINGS: 1.2k words!! angst, regret, pining, exes, perhaps ooc rin, probably bland but!! it’s here

─ AUTHOR’S NOTE: RIN GIRLIES HERE IS UR MAN <3

— rin’s eyes anxiously dart around, scanning for your face somewhere in the stands, an unconscious habit he hasn’t been able to drop. the roar of thousands of fans cheering him on, yet strangely, the absence of satisfaction lingers within him.

it’s weird, even he knows it, that he still hopes his ex comes to his soccer matches. he’s fully aware that you are unlikely to be present, but even so, a lingering sliver of hope refuses to fade. and it’s strange, because he was the one who broke up with you to pursue his career, he was the one who broke your heart, he was the one who'd made you cry... so why does his heart feel so damn empty when you aren’t there to watch him soar?

fuck. this isn’t the time to be thinking about this. so with an annoyed huff, he pushes his feelings aside, and plays ball.

as the final whistle blows, everybody in the stadium erupts into cheers, confetti cascading down to honor the exceptional achievement. japan won nationals, rin scoring the winning goal by himself, marking tokyo's historic first-ever victory. his eyes widen with disbelief, puffing from the exertion of the intense match. the weight of the moment settles on his shoulders, and he couldn't help but look up, expecting to see the familiar sight of your proud face in the crowd, your pretty eyes catching onto his— oh. that’s right. you won’t be there anymore.

his smile falls the slightest bit. the sensation of pride and joy seems to snap almost instantly, and he doesn’t know why. this… this was his goal, his dream. the thing he wanted most in the world, in the palm of his hand. and really, he should be more happy, but he can’t seem to shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach.

his radiant smile begins to falter, a subtle shift in the atmosphere as the waves of pride and joy that had enveloped him seemed to snap abruptly. this achievement, this culmination of his dreams and aspirations, now lays within his grasp. one would expect satisfaction and happiness to course through his veins, yet an inexplicable unease settled in the pit of his stomach, casting a shadow over the moment. ignoring all his teammates’ cheers and screams, he speeds towards the locker room to get changed and go home.

his house really isn’t any better. (he questions if it’s really ‘home’ without you.) the concept of "home" now feels strangely foreign, a place that should be comforting but is instead tinged with an undeniable sense of absence. it's as if the essence of warmth has been drained away.

the once-inviting space lacks the comforting sprawl of your giant stuffed animals overtaking the bed or the mountains of your clothes taking over the closet. a peculiar emptiness lingers, a void that cannot be filled by mere physical belongings. the silence within the familiar walls is unsettling.

rin finds it quite odd not feeling your arms wrap around his torso, giving him a peck as you asked about his day. it’s strangely… quiet as well. there’s no you singing along to some laufey song completely out of tune, no alarm going off because you burnt the takoyaki, or the constant hum of the tv playing in the background. it's a quietude that, rather than offering solace, only accentuates the hollowness of the space. he’s not so sure he likes it.

he stares at the shiny, gold metal he had received. his mind, despite receiving a sparkly, golden-hued award— an emblem of achievement— stubbornly fixates his thoughts of you. he finds himself gazing at the metallic surface, a token of success that pales in comparison to the vibrant memories of your presence. he recalls your playful curiosity, imagining how you would have marveled at the gold medal, playfully testing its authenticity with an endearing chomp. he misses it. he misses you.

and he wonders what you might've changed his contact to. stupid ex, maybe? loser bitch? he deserves it. but he can't help but wonder, is there a possibility he'd still be 'rinnie', or 'my love' with a heart that never made sense because it looked more like a cheeky smile to him? (he wishes he had treasured you just a little bit more.) is he blocked? or is he just another number in your phone now? do you reread the messages he sent to you?

because he does. your contact name is still ‘loml’. he has every single photo you sent saved. he stares at the old "i love you" texts night after night after night. it's pathetic, really, but his heart aches for those moments when you'd scold him for overexerting himself, when you'd sleepily wake up at two am just to make him a hot meal when he came back late, when you'd stick those tacky hello kitty bandaids on top of the scrapes he got from soccer. he misses your good luck kisses, the ones where you'd pull his face down to your height and let out a big dramatic 'mwah!' in front of all his teammates— where he'd grumble and complain but his cheeks were undeniably a bright rosy red.

but above all, the vivid memory etched in his mind is the pain he inflicted upon you. your voice trembling, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you desperately clung to his arm, seeking an explanation. "what do you mean, rin? i don't understand. did i do something wrong?" your words quivered, on the verge of shattering, yet he callously shrugged you off, meeting your tear-filled eyes with a chilling glare.

"you're just a distraction. sorry, but soccer's more important to me."

he recalls the way your hand slowly fell away, the slow nod of comprehension, and the sight of your trembling bottom lip as you fought valiantly not to crumble. he was stupid. so, so stupid. he wishes he had pulled you into the shelter of his arms, confessed his foolishness, and reassured you that he didn't mean those hurtful words. or better yet, he wishes he didn’t say them at all. and he wants to ask, have you moved on? do you find your heart fluttering for somebody else, threatening to beat out of your chest like you once made him feel?

to be loved is to be seen. you saw him beyond the carefully constructed mask, piercing through the layers of the egoist the world molded him to be. in your gaze, he wasn't just the world's best striker or sae's little brother; he was itoshi rin. and that was enough for you.

oh, how utterly foolish he was to let you go. are you still as pretty as ever? (of course you are. you’ve never not looked absolutely stunning to him.) do you still smile as brightly as you once shone, his precious shooting star? he hopes you still find a reason to break into a grin every day.

but the question that is constantly on his mind like a broken record player. if he were to grovel and beg, surrendering his pride on his hands and knees, would you accept him back?

for a moment, he considers it. calling you. his finger hovers tentatively over the ‘audio’ call button, mere millimeters away from hearing you again. rin so desperately wishes to hear your sweet voice, see your angelic face, to be able to bask in your presence once more. would you be shocked? happy shocked, or enraged shocked, or maybe you wouldn’t pick up at all. would he go to voicemail? if he left one, would you listen? do you miss him as much as he has missed you all this time? (it’s been a month, but to him it felt like years.) yet, as the gravity of his past actions weighs heavily in his heart, an inexplicable hesitation ensnares him. you… don’t deserve this. you’re healing right now, he’s already chosen himself once, it would be utterly selfish to do it again. with a heavy exhale, he gingerly sets down his phone, fixing his gaze upon the ceiling above.

and suddenly, soccer doesn't feel like his passion after all. he wonders if it was really you.

his bed feels a little bit too cold now.

#bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #rin x reader #rin x y/n #rin x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #bllk angst #bllk #blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi x reader #itoshi x y/n #itoshi x you

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

#dustin henderson fic #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #steddie with dustin’s pov #henderfam #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson #i couldn’t resist the music reference it’s a song i love but wasn’t coming up in nbtdad ❤️#dustin and nancy

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latenightdaydreams · 16 days

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Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, cnc, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

💖Set in the 1980s💖

It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground. Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

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waspinators · 2 years

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i feel insane my throat is destroyed from screaming I had the fucking time of my life today ohh my god

#txt #IT WAS SO GOOD..they payed so many extra songs #*played #THSY DID GRACELESS..thats MY national song and i was nearly crying scream-singing along AHHH #i had like no expectation for them to play it just based on the setlists of other shows on the tour but !!!!!!!!#indigo sparke opened for them and sang with them on rylan and id never knew about her but i love her now lol #I WILL. probably post more tomorrow its 1am and i just got home and im exhausted hfhdbckjdhd

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arieslost · 6 days

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MONACO | cl16

summary: aries’ gift to you all after she watched her favorite driver win his home race <3

word count: 802

masterlist — join my tag list here!

the finish line at monaco has always been more of a daunting sight as opposed to an exciting one. you spent every single lap of every single monaco grand prix with your fingers tightly crossed, your lips colorless from how hard you’d press them together, just for a disappointing circumstance to rear its head.

you do the same thing today. but today is not last year, or the year before, or any time you’ve watched your boyfriend race in the heart of his hometown. today is the 26th of may, 2024, and charles leclerc is crossing the finish line as a winner.

every time he’s won has been special, but nothing holds a candle to this. it’s monaco. the streets of his childhood, the track he dreamed of winning on since he could remember.

“we won it! finally!” brian shouts over the radio, and immediately you can hear charles screaming back, crying out “YES!” over and over.

pascale, standing shoulder to shoulder with you as she had been for practically the entire race, reaches over and pulls you into a tight embrace.

“congratulations,” you say loudly in her ear so she can hear you over the cheers of everyone around you. “i can’t imagine how proud of him you are.”

“i think you can,” she replies, kissing your cheek and running her hands up and down your arms with a wide smile. “you’ve been by his side through every obstacle, just like i have.”

your eyes well with tears, and she hugs you again. “you’d better get out there. you know he always looks for you first.”

simultaneously, brian appears at your shoulder and takes your hand. “come on, come with me!”

you take a moment to hug him, the two of you jumping up and down in each other’s arms before you’re both running through the crowds of people to get a clear view of the podium, namely the top step.

you try to hold it together, because you know that a camera could focus in on you at any time, but when charles takes his place between carlos and oscar, his flag draped over his shoulders and a smile on his face that looks almost painful, you realize you never had a chance. the tears stream down your face, but you don’t even bother wiping them away. you can’t tear your gaze from the beautiful sight of your charlie at the top step in monaco. monaco.

his eyes find you as everyone sings along to the italian national anthem, the two of you included. you try to convey everything you can’t say to him yet through your eyes, and something about his expression tells you that he understands.

finally, after the ceremony is concluded and everyone is thoroughly doused in champagne (you and everyone in your general area as well, courtesy of charles), you’ve made your way back to ferrari’s hospitality and are now sitting waiting as patiently as you can to congratulate charles yourself.

thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long.

charles practically comes barreling through the door, first place trophy still clutched in his hand, race suit and hat drenched in champagne, and you don’t even feel the stickiness of it when you meet him in the middle of the room, both of you laughing hysterically.

adrenaline still pumping through his veins, charles wraps his arms around you and lifts you high in the air, spinning you around as many times as he can before he feels like he’s going to fall over. breathlessly, he sets you down, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes.

“i’m so proud of you, cha,” you breathe out, fingers brushing through the hair at the back of his head before cupping his cheeks. “wow, i had so many things i wanted to say to you and now i can’t remember any of it.”

“c’est bon, mon amour,” he whispers, tilting his chin up to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss. “just hold onto me for a minute.”

you don’t have to be told twice. you loop your arms around his neck, keeping your forehead firmly pressed against his, breathing in tandem with him and accepting every kiss he presses against your lips while his hands caress the slope of your back.

“i think you have some jumping in the harbor to do,” you say eventually, though you wish you could stay like this forever.

“with you?” he asks slyly, raising his eyebrows.

“i don’t think so,” you laugh.

but in the years you’ve spent with him, you’ve learned that when charles leclerc wants something, he will get his way. and that’s how you find yourself tightly gripping his hand as you leap into the monaco harbor with your race winner without regretting it for a single second.

note: oh guys. i cried today. i really did. i’m so happy for him and so damn proud. the first monegasque driver to win his home race in 93 years. tifosi, we celebrate <3

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dividers by @/saradika

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