#heat and wire are done with their shit

[epicfirestormer]

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Tattered

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Reader

Summary: Reader, Wade, and Logan decide to go out in the nearby woods to do some casual training. Once Logan and the Reader get to fight, things get heated and escalate. (Reader has a regenerative power as well)

CW: fighting, stabbing, blood, jealous!Logan, Wade being Wade, choking, biting, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie,

a/n: this is my first time writing for Logan. I am hella excited. Reader has a regenerative power along with super strength and nails that turn into razor sharp claws. Also sorry I don’t proof read, so grammar mistakes I’m sure

~~~

“Fuck— I don’t remember you being this strong!” Wade Wilson, a close friend and teammate of yours, coughed out. You had decided to do some casual training in the nearby woods, giving you all full access to throw down to your full abilities. You pinned him down with your hips, pulling a small knife from your holster. Hovering it above his groin. “Say uncle or you’re gonna be growing Wade Jr. back,” you grinned.

Wade gasped, “Baby Knife? You wouldn’t—“

You began pressing your knife into his pants, breaking the fabric as you inched closer to his favorite asset. “Okay- Okay! Jesus Christ and Mary— UNCLE! There I said it,” Wade held his hands up in between you showing mercy.

A deep chuckle was heard behind you.

Logan Howlett, The Wolverine, stood behind leaned against a tree. Watching as you and Wade fought back and forth for the last thirty minutes. You had taken a liking to Wade’s new roommate. Gruff and stubborn in nature, distant and aloof, but somehow still alluring.

You rolled off Wade, standing and wiping the dirt off your clothes. “When I said I wanted you in my pants, that wasn’t what I had in mind,” Wade stood up behind you. You threw the knife into his thigh, pulling a disapproving groan of agony from him. Silent curse words pouring from his mouth as he pulled the knife out, “I’m keeping this.”

“If you two are done flirting, I think it’s my turn to fight,” Logan smirked at you. He was incredibly handsome. Ever since Wade had came back from the Void with Logan, you had been infatuated. His dark hair, deep voice, everything about him was admirable. Especially right now as you watched him remove his flannel, sporting a white tank top underneath. The veins on his arms popped against the strong muscle. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Aren’t you a little old to be fighting someone?” You teased as the new 200-year-old from another universe stood before you.

“Oh no, no, no. Me and this guy went at it all night the first time we met,” Wade chimed in. Logan gritted his teeth at him, warning him to watch what he says next.

“All night you say? Sounds like my kind of party,” you stretched your body, preparing to face off with the new guy. You watched Logan roll and pop his neck, stretching out his arms. Admiring his muscular physique.

“He’s got the stamina of a college freshman wired on Redbull and pure sex drive,” Wade patted Logan on the shoulder. Logan held up a fist to Wade’s face, claws extending mere inches from his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. You had your chance to fight, now leave,” he growled at Wade. Wade stomped his foot like a toddler, whining as he spoke, “Whaaaat!? No fair! You got to watch me fight Sexy Mutant Mamma, why don’t I get to watch the two hottest people in our building go at it!” You chuckled at his minor temper tantrum.

“Because you make everything weird! Now get outta here,” Logan held his claws under Wade’s chin pulling a small drop of blood from him. Wade spun on his heal, fists bundled up at his sides as he stomped away into the woods. Grumbling the entire way, “Not fucking fair. Wanted to see their clothes ripped off. Fucking fuck…”

You placed your hands on your hips, standing straight and firm before Logan. “So are we gonna do this or—“ Logan lunged forward at you, catching you off guard slightly. “Holy shit—“ you jumped before he could tackle you to the ground with his first attack. He dug his claws into the ground as he spun around to face where you were now. You opted out of grabbing one of your weapons. Deciding to go in with brute strength instead. You ran towards Logan, fist pulled back preparing to punch him. He grabbed your hand mid punch, twisting your arm. You kicked a leg up hitting him in the ribs. Logan’s claws extended, stabbing you in forearm. You widened your eyes at the three blades puncturing your skin, glaring up at him. You scratched up at him with your razor sharp nails, gashing his tank top and skin. He chuckled out, looking at his blood momentarily. You pushed him away, pulling his blades from your arm.

Your jaw hung open as you stared at him. A shit eating grin on his face. “Wade may be scared of you, but I’m not. I will kick your geriatric ASS,” you dove toward him, cutting at his legs with your hands. Ripping and tearing his jeans as you slashed at his flesh. Logan growled in pain before stabbing you in the back and picking you up over his head. Throwing you onto the ground. You were quick to hop back up to your feet. You caught your breath shaking off the pain you felt. Writhing slightly.

You darted back over to him, kicking at his leg causing him to fall to his knee. You then jumped and kicked him with both feet, throwing him onto his back. “Fuck!” He cursed at you. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you began punching him. You watched as his nose broke just to heal right in front of you. A cocky grin written on your face as Logan’s eyes stared into yours. Almost as if he was enjoying you on top of him. His arm flexed as he stabbed his claws into your thigh. You bared your teeth at him screaming in pain, “Motherfucker!” He lifted his other fist, releasing the claws right in front of your nose. “I’d hate to mess up that pretty face of yours, doll,” he teased. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Unable to deny how quickly his pet name went to your core. He slashed his claws down your chest, ripping your shirt.

You crawled off him, attempting to get away. “If you wanted to see my boobs that bad you could’ve just asked!” you playfully called back to him. He chased after you on all fours. You threw one of your small knives into his shoulder attempting to slow him down. He grabbed you by the ankle. Falling forward and smashing your jaw into the dirt. You tussled with him, kicking and swatting with claws. Cutting up his arms and shoulders as he tried to pull you back. Bruising strength as his fingers dug into your skin. His eyes were black as he stared at you, a lustful grin on his lips. He jumped forward pinning your body underneath his.

You shared in your panting. His claws dug into the dirt beside your head, the necklace he wore dangling in your face. Sweat beamed on both your bodies. Both of you bearing your teeth at each other. Your panting mouth slowly morphing into a grin, throwing your head back against the dirt stretching out your neck with a sigh. He cocked an eyebrow at you, your eyes darting back to meet his. He leaned down planting a feverish kiss on your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened it. He pulled his claws from the dirt, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling your fronts flush. Sloppy kisses being exchanged between you, teeth clanking together.

Logan leaned back on his knees, holding you in his arms. “You sure do know how to fight, doll,” he cooed as his eyes stared at your chest. “Yeah? You ain’t too bad for a 200-year-old geezer,” you smirked. Logan grinned, raising an eyebrow at your mockery. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing at it as pushed you back slightly, “You and Wade sure do have one thing in common. Never knowing how to shut your fucking mouths.” You gasped with his hand on your jugular, smiling widely at him. “I definitely like your mouth a lot better,” he leaned in planting a kiss on your lips. Releasing his grip and pushing your hair out of your face. You caught your breath, hooded eyes staring into his hazel ones. His fingers petted through your hair, “Couldn’t stand to see you on top of him like that. Him having his little fucking hands on you.”

You had no idea Logan had felt this way about you. Sure there was flirting, but that was in your nature. You flirted with everyone, you assumed Logan was playing along. Catching him staring at you from time to time. Him lingering in your doorway before you headed into your apartment. Occasional pet names.

“Ooo, Mr. Jealousy,” you teased. He smirked above you. Leaning down and pressing his lips to your throat, sharp canines grazing as he lapped and sucked your skin. You tangled one of your hands in his hair, holding his head in place as he kissed your skin. Gentle moans falling from your lips. His lips trailed to your ear, “Sounds so pretty.” He pulled your lobe between his teeth. He had marked up your entire neck with hickeys and bite marks.

“Gotta make sure when we get back, Fucko knows to keep his hands off you,” Logan purred in your ear. Every inch of your skin was red hot. Arousal decorating your senses as you stared at the man before you. His hardening cock pressing into you through his jeans. You ran your hands down his chest, pulling a softness from him you had not yet seen. Hooking your fingers under his tattered shirt, lifting it over his head and leaving his chest exposed. Glistening torso with some of the firmest abs you had ever seen, hair on every inch. Admiring his body, fingers dancing delicately on the hair on him. Trailing down to his v-line, fingertips finding the cold metal of his large belt buckle.

Logan pulled your lips to his, kissing you like a touch starved man. Hunger painting his movements, teeth grazing your lip. His fingers tangled in your hair holding you so that your lips would not leave his. One hand ghosting down your side, going up under your shirt. Loving how your soft skin contrasted his corse fingers. Finding their place on your breasts, massaging them with his large hands. Pinching at the thin material of your bra, feeling your hardening nipples. You moaned into his mouth with his touch.

Your lips moved down to his neck, nipping at his flesh. Pulling a deep chuckle from him. A soft moan fell from his lips as yours worked down to his clavicle. His hand guided your chin upward, pulling your lips back to his. Fingers finding the button on your pants, undoing them and placing his hand down the front. Fingers massaging your lips, feeling your arousal glisten on his fingers. “Mmm, you’re so wet, baby doll,” he grinned widely. Your body rutted when he dipped his fingers into you. His name a moan from your throat. Thick fingers curled and massaged your insides, his thumb circling your clit.

You dug your fingers into his back as he continued edging you closer and closer. The tips of your claws penetrating his skin, a wince falling from him. “Easy, sweetheart,” Logan cooed. You mumbled sorry, focusing to retract your claws. One of your hands found its way to his bulge. Palming at his hard cock. Logan moaned at your touch, eyes black with lust as his heavy brow stared at you. You smirked, still a complete mess with his fingers inside you. You tugged at the waist of his pants. Pulling a smile from him.

“You wanna see my cock that bad?”

Electricity flooded every inch of your body with his words. “If I say yes will you fuck me?” You smirked at him. A wide grin painted his face. Raising an eyebrow with your words, leaning in to plant a kiss on you. “Mouth,” he jokingly called you between kisses.

Abruptly pulling his hand from your core and pushing you onto your back. You huffed when you hit the hard dirt. Eyes widening at him. Large hands finding the waist of your pants, pulling them down your legs. Ripping your panties off with them leaving your soaked core bare to the air. Legs shaking with anticipation for him. Logan stared at your core, tongue darting out to wet his lips at the sight. Unable to control himself, delving down and immediately flattening his tongue against your core. You arched your back at the sudden sensation. Grinding your hips against his tongue. Lapping at your entrance like it was his last meal.

Climax building its way through every inch of you as his tongue pressed into you. Heavy fingers digging into your thighs. Deep hazel eyes looking up at you from your hips. The look of him pushing you over the edge. Orgasm washing over you. Your body convulsing and heaving as waves of ecstasy engulfed you. Shouting Logan’s name to the sky.

“There ya go, good girl,” Logan encouraged pulling away from your sensitive opening. You leaned your head back, squinting your eyes shut as waves of aftershock washed over you. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the ground pulling your attention back to him. And what a sight it was. Logan’s large cock curved upward right in front of you. A large vein popping out on the underside, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum, a bundle of hair decorating the area around it. A mouth watering image.

Logan snickered seeing you slack jawed staring at him. Fucking him with your eyes. Hands finding their place on the ground next to either side of your head, cock pressing at your entrance. All that was left of his clothes was that damn necklace. Chain dangling in your face as you admired the handsome, sweat soaked man.

Large hand positioning himself at your entrance, head delving into your walls slightly. Pulling a moan from you. Swirling the tip around causing your body to quiver, pussy still sensitive from your prior orgasm. Even just the tip stretched you as he pressed into you slowly. Soft groans falling from you.

“C‘Mon, I know you can take it,” Logan purred easing himself into you. You squinted your eyes as his cock begged to pry you open. The girth making you fear he’d rip you open. Fully sheathing himself inside your tight walls. His face contorting in absolute pleasure. Adjusting around his girth, thick cock stretching you perfectly. Logan eased his way back before thrusting back in. With each snap of his hips you moaned. Finding a fast pace in you, panting heavy above you.

You leaned forward placing your lips back to his. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Exchanging spit as you licked into each other. Teeth hitting as you deepened the kiss. Hands exploring up his chest, dancing up his toned body. Resting on his cheeks. Lust filled eyes staring into each other as he continued inside you. Slack jawed and breathing heavy.

“Perfect pussy,” Logan growled above you. Thumbs caressing his cheeks. A knot building up inside you that begged to come undone around his large cock. Feeling your walls constrict around him as he thrusted. Each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. Gonna be so full of me,” Logan panted into your ear. His back straightened as one of his hands found its place on your throat. A minor squeeze of flesh between rough fingers. Eyes rolling back into your head as you felt yourself preparing to finish. Thrusts grew sloppy and harsh, sounds of skin smacking together filled the air. Balls smacking into you with each heavy movement. His name spilled from you as you climaxed around him. Logan moaned loudly feeling how you squeezed him. Milking his cum from him. Shooting hot ropes of himself inside you. Hips rutting as he filled you full of his seed.

He remained inside you, feeling the way your pussy still wrapped around him. Occasional squeeze of walls from aftershock. Feeling him go soft inside you. Both of you wincing at the loss of sensation when he pulled out. Catching your breath as Logan helped with your pants. You sat up, admiring him as he got dressed. Logan looked over his shoulder, grinning as he caught you staring. Extending a hand to you and helping you to your feet, pulling you flush against his chest. Hand petting your hair as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. Silently smiling back and forth.

“So who won?” You joked. Logan rolled his eyes, “Don’t push your luck, doll.” You giggled at his response. Logan wrapped an arm around you as you both headed out of the woods. Loving the warmth of his body next to yours.

“Next time I won’t be leaving,” Wade’s cocky grin met you between the trees. Logan gritted his teeth. He stood with both hands on his hips watching the two of you walk toward him in your ripped and blood stained clothes. “Sounded like you guys were really going at it on the ground there. Sounded just like when I’d catch mommy and daddy having their weekly wrestling matches,” Wade raised his eyebrows. Your eyes darted up at his. Wade caught sight of the purple marks on your neck, laughing. “I didn’t know X-Men training gave you bruises on your neck too!” Wade cackled to himself. Wiping a fake tear from his eye as he sucked in a breath. “When’s it my turn for that kind of training, Y/N?”

You both ignored him, walking past him. You gave a good punch to his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Wade hunched over coughing. Logan leaned down whispering in Wade’s ear, “Jealousy looks good on you, bub.” Dropping a heavy elbow onto his head knocking him to the ground.

Logan hurried his steps to catch up with you, walking beside you as you headed out of the forest. Exchanging smiles as you walked home together.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I really love the response people had to the idea of this Fic so I’m more than happy to write it! If anyone has requests for Logan or any other characters, send them my way! If you are interested in being tagged in any future Fics, let me know! //

[tags]

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @darklover06 ~ @castle-of-ruin ~ @akumazwrld ~ @ravenn-darkholme ~ @laweona510 ~ @ivyinthesun ~ @eddiesguitarskills ~ @amandarobertsboyce ~ @urmom02 ~ @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs ~ @yesi22 ~ @orangehairedbrat ~ @l0sercat ~ @introvertreader20 ~ @shoxji ~ @gingerplague ~ @porflenet

[hoshifighting]

hello!! I love your works especially the svt reactionsss

I was wondering if you could do svt’s reaction to you giving them your soaked panties

WARNINGS: smut, panty sniffing/tasting, mentions of oral, public teasing, wap.

seungcheol when you casually slip your soaked panties into his pocket, his breath catches, the weight of the fabric pressing against his thigh like a fucking live wire. you’re in public, surrounded by friends, but all he can think about is how wet they are—how wet you are. he doesn’t even need to check; the heat radiating from his pocket tells him everything. “what the fuck, babe?!” he murmurs in your ear later, dragging you into the nearest secluded corner. his fingers dip into his pocket, pulling out the damp fabric as he presses you against the wall. “you’re gonna pay for this, you know that, right?” his voice is low “can’t wait to taste you.”

jeonghan’s always the one teasing. but then, he’s the one who’s left speechless. his eyes widen, and a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “oh, baby,” he purrs, fingers tracing over the damp fabric, “you’re so fucking naughty, aren’t you?” he loves the way you squirm under his gaze, your cheeks flushing as he twirls the panties around his finger. “you know what this does to me, right?” he asks, voice low and dangerous, already imagining all the ways he’s going to make you pay for this little stunt. “i’m gonna make sure you’re even wetter by the time i’m done with you.” he slips the panties into his pocket, smirking as he watches your reaction, loving how easily he can turn the tables.

joshua’s was normal at the party, until now. you slip those soaked panties into his hand, and something snaps. his grip tightens around the fabric “you really shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, his voice strained. “do you even know what you’re doing to me?” right now, all he can think about is bending you over and taking you right there.

jun was acting playful, but u decided to hand him your soaked panties. his eyes darken, and he’s instantly hard, his thoughts running wild. “you know i love it.” he can’t stop himself from pressing the panties to his lips, tasting just a hint of you. “fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, his hand already slipping under your skirt, desperate to feel more. “i want to taste you straight from this pussy.”

hoshi stares at them for a second, his mind going blank. “you’re so fucking crazy, babe,” he laughs “you really know how to get me going.” he brings the panties to his face, inhaling intensely, and the scent of you hits him like a freight train. “shit, i’m so fucking hard right now,” he groans, his hand already reaching for you, his need to be inside you overwhelming. “let’s see if you’re as ready as these are.”

wonwoo doesn’t let the surprise show, though, just quirks an eyebrow and chuckles. “so, you’ve been thinking about me all day, huh?” he says, looping the fabric around his finger. the dampness against his skin sends a cold shudder down his backbone, the thought of you wet and needy for him making him swallow hard. “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby,” he purrs, his voice silky smooth

woozi’s usually, normally, composed, so focused, but then all that composure goes out the window. he loves how bold you are, the way you just hand them over like it’s no big deal, and it has his cock twitching in his jeans. “gonna keep these with me,” he whispers, shoving them into his bag. “so when you’re not around, i can still smell how much you want me. but don’t think you’re getting away with this, baby—i’m gonna make you pay for teasing me like this later.”

minghao’s the one who makes you melt with just a look. so when you slip those soaked panties into his hand, watching him with that teasing smile, it catches him off guard. his fingers curl around the fabric, feeling the dampness, and his brain short-circuits. the scent of you hitting him hard. he brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply, his eyes locking on yours. “you really think i’m gonna let you get away with this? next time, these won’t even make it off your body,”

mingyu when during a meeting he feels you sliding the wet cloth under the table, he nearly chokes on his drink. his eyes snap to yours, full of shock, and he can’t help the smirk that curls on his lips. for the rest of the meeting, he’s got one hand in his pocket, fingers brushing over the damp fabric, his mind running wild with thoughts of what he’s gonna do to you later.

seokmin, when you hand him your soaked panties in the middle of practice, he’s pretty sure his brain went error 404. his first thought is, “holy fuck,” followed by, “how the hell am i supposed to focus now?” he can’t resist the urge to sneak a peek, pulling them out of his pocket when no one’s looking, and the sight alone nearly makes him lose it. he pulls you aside during a break. his fingers brush against your hip, the fabric of your panties still warm in his hand. “fuck, i need you. now.”

seungkwan’s speechless. his first instinct is to hide them, slipping the damp fabric into his pocket as he tries to keep his composure. “you’re trouble.” he whispers later. a desire he can barely control. his mind’s already racing, thinking about how wet you must be, how desperate you must’ve been to give him something so nasty. his fingers brushing against the outline of the panties in his pocket until the end of the event.

vernon’s mind goes blank for a second. he’s the type to blush, but fuck if it doesn’t turn him on like nothing else. with a barely restrained grin, his mind’s racing, filled with images of what you must’ve looked like, felt like, when you got them that wet. “i’m gonna take care of you tonight,” he whispers, leaning in close so only you can hear, he’s trying to sound composed, but the mere thought of you without panties walking around, makes his voice shake.

chan’s not easily flustered, but, he’s momentarily stunned. his mind is, “what the fuck?” “holy shit, she’s that wet for me.” wandering to how you got them so wet, how you must’ve been thinking about him the whole time, about his cock, about his hands, and is another member who I think that will probably forget everything, and only think that if he bends you over there, you’ll be without the panties, and your pussy must be dripping.

[seungfl0wer]

*Distracted Gamer*

Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Multiple Orgasms, Oral (M & F Receiving), Scratching, Tiny Possessiveness from Ji, Dirty talk ofc, Creampie/unprotected sex (do you expect anything less from me)

This was a request you can find (Here). Prompts from My First List: 18 “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 34 “Would you be careful” as always thank you for requesting🩵

-🩵

It was late at night, you sat at your gaming chair yelling at someone over your headset. “Are you fucking stupid? Stop pushing!” You yelled at one of your teammates. Jisung had just got done working on his stuff when he had come into the room. “What a dumbass, pick someone else or do you fucking suck at everyone!” You screamed. Jisung stood beside you laughing a bit. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

You glared at him “not now Ji, I’m playing ranked and if I can win I’ll be in diamond” you said focusing back on your game. He smiled “oh of course my love” he said kissing your cheek. You looked back at him “Jisung, whatever you’re planning. Don’t.” You said firmly. He just gave you a shit eating grin “is never do anything you wouldn’t want” he said. Kissing your neck softly making your body tingle. “You just sound so stressed baby.” He continued.

He pulled your chair slightly back as he got below you, you glared at him trying to stay focus. He took the opportunity of your game starting to swiftly pull your pretty panties down. You had only been in one of his long shirts cause it was so damn hot in the place. His mouth watered looking at your hot cunt. “Ji-“ you said softly as he started to kiss your thigh to your core. “Let me destress you love” as he said that he attached his lips to your heat, sucking harshly on your clit. He licked a long strip up your folds your legs clamping around him.

He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, being trapped between your legs mouth going crazy against your core. You tried focusing on your game biting the inner of your cheek. “Tank let’s go-“ you started to yell but quickly covered your mouth as you felt jisung push his fingers into you. He curled them so perfectly as he nibbled the inner of your thighs. His other hand palming himself through his sweats. Your head started to go fuzzy as you moved your hips against his touch. “Ji- Jisung please” you pleaded.

Your game was almost finished and so were you. The wires in your stomach about to snap but before that could snap you snapped. “No! No! What are you guys doing!” You said words coming out hot and breathy as you yelled at your teammates. 15 seconds left for you guys to capture the point. You moved trying to get closer to the screen but with that it pushed Jisungs face more into you his fingers pushing deeper. “Ah- fuck-“ you moaned out eyes rolling back as your body shook at your climax.

You groaned looking at the screen after your eyes fluttered open “ugh we fucking lost” you sighed. You looked down at jisung, sweat, cum and Saliva smeared across his face. He looked up at you limps slightly swollen eyes half glassed over “my good girl” he said dazed. You rolled your eyes at him pulling him up to you taking his shirt off wiping his mouth with it. You pulled him to the couch in the room laying him down as you took off his sweats.

His cock was painfully hard, you were honestly surprised he hadn’t cum yet. You kissed the tip quickly, making him whine. “You think I should let you cum? I told you not to do anything, didn’t I?” You said touching his cock with a ghostly hand. He bucked his hips In a low whine “but- said nothing you wouldn’t want and- you always want me” he said eyes fluttering open and close. You sighed because he wasn’t wrong. You always wanted him in every way. You placed another kiss to his tip before taking him half way in your mouth.

“M’sorry you lost but- but at least I made you feel good- I made you feel good right?” He said with pleading eyes. You smiled making eye contact with him “always do Ji” you said taking more of him in your mouth. “So- I- can- fuck- I can cum?” He breathed out asking for sure. You nodded swirling your tongue around his cock as you started to play with his balls. Jisung left out a strewn on curse words making you chuckle a bit “do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Using his words against him.

He honestly couldn’t even hear you through the fireworks that were going off in his head. Thrusting upwards into your mouth as he hit the back of your throat letting out the most sinful moan he came. He was seeing stars eyes glued shut as his body shivered under you. Your eyes pricked with tears at the feeling of him but you wiped them away looking up at him.

You kept sucking his sensitive cock making him twitch under you. His hands grabbed at anything crying out loudly “please- ah- sensitive to sensitive” he said trying to push you off. Jisung had a high sex drive, so when his cock started to get hard again you didn’t think much of it. He could go a few rounds right after cumming. The record for you guys was 5 rounds non stop, you still don’t know how his body does it.

“So sensitive but already so hard for me?” You coo’d looking up at him. “My handsome boy wanna fuck me?” You said moving away from his cock. His eyes twinkled at you “mhm” he said softly. He quickly got up ready to burry himself into that hot cunt of yours but he stumbled almost toppling over. His legs almost jello like from his climax, you giggled a bit laying down on the couch. He hovered over you placing the tip at your entrance.

He pushed into you bottoming out right away making him throw his head back. He was already so close to cumming again but that was ok. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed this was gonna be a long night. As he pounded into both of you letting out the sweetest noises you dug your nails into his back. This was always one of Jisungs favorite things, ah he loved going to his friend’s house then seeing the marks. The feeling of the burn of it was enough to get him to the edge. His balls slapped against you with one more thrust as he came deep insides of you.

His body plopped on top of you, he wasn’t done though. Oh no- his head swirled the only thing he could think about was fucking you. Filling you so full of all his cum, chasing the pleasure again he started to fuck into you sloppily. You moaned out loudly “ji- ah fuck I- I can’t to much- aah fuck.” Your head was spinning all the pleasure was making your body hot. You felt like you were floating on a cloud close to the sun.

Jisung sucked harshly into your skin his hands coming to wrap around you pulling you as close as possible. He was drooling eyes glassed over as sucked little marks over your collarbone. “My pretty, fuck- you’re all mine. Mine. All mine. My good girl. My perfect sweet girl. Ah fuck-“ he babbled against your skin. “All your jisung” you repeated back at him.

“My pretty whose pretty pussy is molded to my cock, whose pretty pussy milks me for all my cum. Whose pretty pussy begs to be fucked by me” he continued to talk. You knew he was so gone. When he babbled like this he was so far in the pleasure. He went to move trying to get up, but his legs weren’t having it. He almost fell off the couch pulling you with him. “Would you be careful!” You said smacking him softly on the arm.

He chuckled a bit before moving you and him in one swoop again, almost falling to the floor. He sat himself on the couch you know on top of his lap. He pulled you close to him, he loved your body just to be glued to him at all times as he fucked you. Loved having your head by his ear to hear all the noises you let out. “Gonna- I can’t-“ he ground out the new position pushing you down as far as possible.

Your head rolled back as he fucked you deep his hand finding its way to your clit as he was reaching his climax. He pulled your body down balls pressed against your pussy his cock head at your cervix. “Deep- Ji- you’re so deep!” You cried our hands placed against his chest. His eyes fluttered as he moved the slightest before cumming deep. Deep inside you, you cried out mouth gaped open. His fingers moving over you clit fast before you came undone as well. To neither of your surprises though you squirted all over his abdomen.

All the pleasure of today was so much and you were honestly surprised you hadn’t earlier. Jisung held onto you tightly the feeling of cum and sweat sticking to the both of you. “Ji- can we shower-“ you said breaking the silence “we’re sticky” you said making you both laugh. “Of course love” he said getting up too quickly as he stumbled back to the couch. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful” you teased making him roll his eyes.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[poppy-metal]

fail marriage au…………………….

having your first big blow out fight after marriage counselling. putting everything you ever found aggravating or disrespectful or wrong or even just a bit annoying on the table. art doing exactly the same. it gets mean. it gets personal. it gets ugly. you scream at him, scream like a banshee and he shouts back. veins you didn’t know he had bulge in his neck, his fingers flex as he wildly gesticulates. you throw something, a plastic tv remote that shatters against the wall. it all passes in a heated blur, you hardly know what you’re doing or saying but that blood is pumping through your veins and you’re alive and so is art. alive. furious, at you. you stalk up to him, and he stands tall above you, looming like a storm cloud. a sweet faced angelic storm cloud that right at this second you couldn’t fucking stand. you jab at his chest with your finger as you yell, lay into him. why couldn’t he tell you how he feels? why did he have to be so fucking passive aggressive? why was tashi the centre of his fucking universe? why couldn’t he be a fucking man and tell you what he really wants? be a man art. be a fucking man for once in your goddamn life.

his nostrils flare, his anger rising with every poke. he grabs your wrist, yanks it up and leans in close. stooping, showing you that he is bigger. he would stoop to your level. he will fight back. you feel his breath on your nose and seethe. he’s still minty fresh. stupid cunt.

“what i want is for you to shut the fuck up and stop acting like you know everything.”

“fuck off, you limp dicked sack of shit.”

“fuck you cunt.” he flicks those brutal syllables at you, chewing his words, opening his mouth so you can see his tongue forming them. you feel the severity in the pit of your stomach. you feel something else lower.

“fuck me? fuck you!”

and in that moment you drew together, moving as one, in the most violent kiss of the modern age. he squeezes your wrist, still held aloft. your other hand grips his shirt collar, pulling so hard it hurts his neck. good. you hope his delicate little neck gets a friction burn and a rash and you hope it stings forever. he tongues furiously at your mouth, mashing his lips into yours and licking the side of your mouth. eating your face like he eats pussy. which he hasn’t done in a while, another thing to yell at him about later. his other hand grips the back of your head, holding it still so you have no choice but to recieve his hot, angry love. you kiss back with equal fury. you want to make him suffer your love. don’t want it? tough luck. it’s his. and he will take it. he grunts into your mouth, it vibrates your tongue. you pull back, but he doesn’t let you. he forces you back nearer to him, spine curving in hateful ecstasy. he kisses you for a few more seconds before drawing back only a few centimetres to rest his forehead on yours and breathe. your lips are wet with him.

“i love you,” you breath.

he caresses the back of your head.

“prove it.”

me when i overachieve.

anyway this is apart of my failmarriage au and you should probably read this part first to understand whats going on here. or just follow the #failmarriage au tag that i have.

your breath shudders out of you. you'd never heard that tone from him before, or rather, never directed at you. not exactly cold but, chilled. serious and pointed. dominant.

your hands fall from his hair, sliding down his throat, his shoulders. you stare into his eyes - he stares back. you feel like you're on a razor thin wire. concede or push back.

you wonder what this will fix. but you don't think you care. you want him. you miss him. your heart is pounding just thinking about it. you take a step back, two, three, several paces.

"okay," you say. you dont even know what you're agreeing too, just that you want it, whatever it is.

before you even have time to linger on that thought though -

because art is already stalking towards you, undoing his soft leather belt and letting it drop to the floor. you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. just watching in this kind of stupified silence as art unczips his pants and slides his delicate fingers under his waistband. In three strides, art was right up in your space, owning it,  staring you down with a cool kind of control in his eyes, heavy cock in his hand, already hard and flushed and mouthwateringly beautiful. you couldn’t speak. you couldn’t think. all you could see was art. 

when art spoke, his voice was an iron grip closing around your throat. each word as clear and distinct as a brand to your hot skin.

“get on your knees”

you sink to the floor. It felt like falling, your knees knocked out from under you by the invisible string of his command that binds you to him. breath punches out of your lungs as you let yourself go under. art was already reaching out and grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock past your waiting lips, pushing all the way to the hilt as his leaking head slammed into the back of your throat.

“god,” art breathed out, vice grip holding you in place. “You’re beautiful like this” and you were lost. years of built resentment and anxiety dissipating like smoke as art took over your senses. the taste of him, the smell of him, the warmth of him, the silk soft press of his cock down your throat. It was everything you’d been longing for from him. 

your hands fly up to grip art’s waist, fingers trying to find purchase, pressing him deeper, holding him deeper, worried he might pull out but not able to hold yourself back. when art didn’t say anything, didn't tell you to stop, you sank forward and started to suck greedily, tongue running over art’s throbbing length, trying desperately to take him apart, to please him, to worship him, to give him what he wanted. 

you heard yourself whine, felt your body sway forward, but you managed to hold yourself still, keep your tongue flat, keep your mouth wide and waiting, holding art still against the back of your throat, wanting desperately to prove you were good. that you loved him. That you wanted, wanted, wanted him.

"give me your hand,” art breathes, looking down at you, and you think briefly of the ancient greek god apollo, and how if art was a deity, you.d gladly stay right where you are. lovingly holding him in the back of your throat. 

your mind was already starting to go fuzzy with the heavy weight of art on the back of your tongue, salt slowly leaking from his pink slit, the slow stretch of his your lips around art’s shaft starting to ache in your jaw. , but, still you had enough awareness to look up confused, meeting art’s eyes in a question. but art didn’t offer an explanation. just looked down at you, hand held out, patiently waiting, like it wasn’t a question of whether you would obey; it was just a matter of when.

shakily, your hand reaches out to his. by instinct or by pure coincidence, its the hand with your wedding band on it. your fingers brush against each other, and then arts fingers, lithe and strong, an athlete's fingers, slide between yours. he brings your clasped hands together against his chest. if your throat wasn’t stuffed with cock you’d gasp at the gesture, the intimacy of it alone. your palm against his bare chest, his right pectoral. right over his thunderous heartbeat. his wedding band presses against yours. 

“Im gonna move, okay?” he breathes down at you, and his hand squeezes yours. “If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand two times.”

you nodded, a slight movement, eager and unbidden. art ran a finger under your jaw, fluttering his fingers against you. you had to shuffle a little to keep as much of art in your mouth as you could as he exhaled and used his free hand to slide against the back of your skull, cupping it tenderly.

a little punched-out gasp falls from arts lips as he slowly rocked his hips, pushingas deep as he could go as you moaned around him. art took a second, waited for you to look at him, blink the tears from your eyes, before he started the slow glide out of your mouth. you laid your tongue flat against the underside of him, tracing the veins, unable to move forward to chase him back down your throat as arts hand kept you firmly in place.

when he was all the way out, spit slick and gleaming, he rested the flushed head of himself against your bottom lip. rubbed himself there, traced every contour of your mouth with the slit of his cock. glossing your lips with the sheen of his precum. 

“I love you.” he said - voice choked and you couldnt tell if it was from emotion or lust, maybe a combination of the two. 

you felt something flare hot in your belly, but before you could utter a word, art was sliding back home, right back into the silk pallet of your throat. and you welcomed him greedily, lapping up every inch he gave you. 

the whole while you held his hand, still pressed against his chest. you tilted open your jaw as wide as it could go, imagining you wanted to be a snake and swallow him whole. you took everything. you breathed through your nose when he was settled fully inside you - you sucked around him when he began to pull back, suctioning your mouth around him to mimic a pussy. a tight hole.

arent i such a good wife, you thought. no one could take his cock like you could. no one would drop to their knees and let themselves be used this way, but you would. to you, this was love. this was passion. 

art lasted a few more minutes before he was dragging himself free from the warm hug of your throat -

“I want you spread out on the kitchen counter," art panted, jerking his chin. he reached down to wrap a loose hand around his wet cock, stroking it languidly. your throat ached with missing it. “I need to be inside you. I want to -” he swallows. “I want to fuck you."

you inhaled sharply. it was a word you didn't often hear from arts lips. especially in reference to sex. the crude word coming from him made your belly clench warmly. more, you wanted more of that.

you stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a couple seconds, art’s cock still only inches from your face. you watched transfixed as art’s leaking head slipped between the tight circle of his fingers, flushed tip disappearing and pushing back through. It was filthy, it was gorgeous, and your whole body shuddered imagining what it would feel like at your entrance: the slow press, the slick head, the aching burn as it slowly pushed inside. because it would burn. the last time you’d had sex….. you didnt want to think about it.

Instead you hurriedly scrambled to obey. shoving the straps of your dress down as you went, feeling it pool around your waist as you bent against the cool marble of the counter. you’d never fucked here. suddenly that was a crazy thought to you. wasnt it a kind of ritual for a couple - to christen the house? your fingers curled into your palms as you pressed your bare chest down. 

you felt art come up behind you and your breath hitched when you felt his palms skimming up the backs of your thighs. you hadnt realized you’d been trembling until that moment. something about his touch calmed you though. 

ridiculous,  to be shy when this was your husband. he’d seen your cunt a hundred times.

all thoughts fled your head when those familiar fingers parted the lips of your cunt - finding you wet. “baby” art’s strangled voice reached your ears as he felt through your delicate slit - he sounded beside himself with wonder. that you,d be this wet for him. this ready. he slid two fingers in easily - just a slight pressure at your entrance and there was a give of the flesh. and he was in - inside you. pumping steadily. “that’s it,” a kiss at the base of your spine, soft and special. “let me in. give me whats mine.”

yours, you dont know if you breathed it or just echoed it in your head. hips pushing back into him, opening yourself further. the stretch was full but it felt so right. 

“god - you’re so responsive - how could i forget -” he was working himself up. his thumb nudged your clit, circled it with the pad before pressing down on it, his own goran covering up your keen. like it affected him more than it did you, to feel how you throbbed against him with need. “gonna put my tongue on your clit everyday and you’re going to let me. let me worship what i married, spread your legs and fucking take it-”

“oh god,” you’re whining. practically humping your cunt on his fingers. “whatever you want, baby. take it, its all yours.” 

you clench around nothing when he suddenly yanks his fingers free, but you dont have to mourn the loss long, your empty spasming hole feeling the silken pressure of his cock in the next second. he grips your waist, wholly possessive as he drags you back onto him and, oh. Its so blissful. that tender ache in your cunt as its filled to the brim. You’d-

“fuck - i missed this - missed your pussy -” 

yes, yes missed. you’d missed this.

art adjusts himself. spreads out his legs so he can really move, leans his broad chest over your back, covering you, smothering you, squishing you into the countertop but he doesnt care. you dont care. pinned beneath him and speared open like this - you’ve never felt more loved by him. 

“so tight and warm - god - i never wanna leave -” he watches, pink lips parted where you’ve taken him. the flared open lips of your pussy hugging the base of his cock. a groan rips from his chest, loud, because he wants you to know, really fucking know, how overwhelmed he is, how much you make him feel, as he slowly drags himself out - only able to make it halfway before he has to bury himself back into that tight heat. your walls tighten and squeeze around him in these luxurious pulls and he feels spit pool in his mouth, the sensation enough to empty his brain. he rocks there, barely pulling free from the clutch of your body. 

“treat me so well with this - little cunt - “ wet desperate kisses are pressed wherever he can reach, his mouth hungry for the salt of your skin. he pulls it between his teeth, some raw animal part of him just wanting to naw on you. he rubs his forehead against your shoulders as he starts to move his hips faster. finally pulling out all the way before he slams back in, knocking your hips into the hard marble, and he should say sorry, he should take more care, you’ll be bruised surely, but then his mind flits back to your therapy session - at the words you’d both said - how you felt - and the words exchanged in your fight. and he feels something kindle in his chest, sparked to life by the liquid heat pouring through him - you fucking - you’re so cruel sometimes and you dont even know - you dont even see what you’re doing to him, the power you hold, how much he’d give to you if only you’d fucking open up to him. get angry at him. demand more of what you want instead of fucking expecting him to read your goddamn mind. 

he hadn’t felt the wet grip of his wifes pussy in months until just now. that couldn’t happen again. 

he pulls himself to his full height - using his ringed hand to make a makeshift leash of your hair, wrapping it around his tan fist. anchors you back onto his hard dick again and again in hard punishing pulls that seem to punch moans from you.

“this is how i should have treated you from the beginning, huh? come home every day and bend you over the minute i step through the door. pound out all my frustrations on this tight cunt. use you to masturbate my dick.” he grunts - that viseral fury that’d you’d seen spark in him briefly before was back in full force now. you could feel it in the reverberating clap of his balls against your ass. the forceful grip on your hair, yanking your neck back, nearly pulling your chest off the counter, your tits bouncing. “maybe then you’d appreciate me.”

you dont know what part in you is broken that soaks his cock at his treatment instead of clamping up. his anger, his vitriol, it all speaks to a deep part inside of you that screams to be wanted. you whimper and bear down around him, meeting him instead of shying away. 

“g - od - oh god, art - “

“would that make you my happy little wife?” he slows back down. drags his thick length in and out of you in purposeful rolls of his hips. “I bring all my shit to you and you devote this hot little pussy to warming my dick. you’ll take care of me, right? drop to your knees and give me a proper fucking welcome home.”

you cant think. your eyes are rolling back, your brain fogging. Its so good, oh god, how is it so fucking good. you’re drenched between your thighs, you can feel it running down your thighs. you can feel the hot raw part of your pussy that is being penetrated again and again on his cock as it retreats and then glides back in. 

“Im gonna cum.” is all you can say. “art, im so close -”

“fuck,” he stops his movements. grinding his hips into yours, churning his dick inside you. his mouth skims your ear, he lets go of your hair to grip you around the throat. “tell me you love me. tell me you love me when you cum, baby, or i swear to god, i cant do this anymore -” 

“I love you!” the words are the truest they’ve ever been in years. you’re on your tippy toes, squirming, trying to get away or trying to get closer, you cant tell. probably closer. you want art to carve apart for himself inside you - brand himself on you forever so you can never leave, never forget, never doubt this marriage. “I love you, i love you, i love you, i love-”

“I love you too. fuck - i need you to cum. cum on my cock and show me you still want this -” 

you shatter apart. a million stars exploding in a galaxy. arts strong arms come around you like a band, wrapping you up against him as you shake. your breaths come out harshly in sync. the beats of your heart a fast thrum between you. 

you turn your head, desperately seeking, and he’s there, already leaning down to take your lips in a kiss. 

the weight of him still inside you is one you take comfort in. you dont want him to leave your body. you dont want this to end. 

“stay,” you whisper against his mouth. 

his hand cups your cheek, strokes his thumb over the swell of your flushed skin. “always,” he says back. 

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[jintaka-hane]

The Eagle and the Hummingbird

Masterlist

Img: Silver mechanical bird with blue crystals By Coolarts223

Summary: Kid likes you. And he's been wanting to give you a gift for a while now. The problem is, for all his mechanical know-how, he's got zero emotional intelligence. Word count: 1000

“Really? They can fly backwards?” Heat propped his elbows on the dining table, hanging on your every word.

“Yes, they’re the only ones who can,” there was a note of pride in your voice as you shared your knowledge with your crewmates. “When they’re done feeding, they fly backwards to get their long beak out of the flower.”

“Pff, a dumb thing that sucks on flowers,” Kid’s voice came with a scoff from his spot, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah... it’s not a dumb thing, Kid. It’s a bird.”

You locked eyes with your captain for a moment, your frown lingering as you tried to suppress a smile. It was impossible for you to stay mad at him for long, especially when he crinkled his nose like that, giving him a look you’d describe as a disgruntled eagle.

“And that’s your favorite animal?” Killer was holding his glass with both hands, peering at you through the small holes in his mask.

“Yes! They’re amazing, only 5 cm long and they flap their wings between 50 and 80 times a second—”

“I wish I could move my hands that fast,” Heat said, lost in thought.

"So you could flap your 5 cm little bird?" Wire chimed in as he strolled into the mess hall.

There was a moment of silence before the men erupted into explosive, raucous roar.

Wire cracked up, nearly doubling over at his own joke; Kid slammed his hand on the doorframe, laughing so hard he almost fell over, and Killer wiped tears from his mask as he raised his beer to toast with Heat, who was trying to keep up with the chaotic cheer.

“You guys are hopeless,” you let out a frustrated sigh, giving Wire a playful nudge on the forearm. “I’m off to bed.”

As you made your way through the door, you had to maneuver around Kid, who stayed put, watching you leave with a peculiar glint in his eye.

“Good night, Cap’.”

******

The next morning, you had barely stepped into the galley for breakfast when the captain welcomed you by angrily tossing a small metal object in your direction.

"Take it," he snapped, his face twisted in a sulky pout.

“Wha���”, the object landed on your chest, and you quickly brought your hands up to catch it before it fell. As you looked at it, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of one of the most finely crafted and beautiful mechanical pieces you’d ever seen. 

It was a tiny hummingbird made from pieces of iron and steel, with some parts joined by tiny screws and others carefully melted and welded together. It was incredibly light, standing on its own in the palm of your hand on two exquisitely thin legs with detailed toes and claws. The beak was perfectly polished, and a tail made of fine metal sheets, shaped like feathers, served to balance the weight backward.

Totally awestruck by the extraordinary craftsmanship, you glanced at Kid, who was intently watching your reaction from across the room with a scowl under his protective goggles.

“Kid… this—”

“It’s just some fucking crap I found the other day while cleaning up the workshop,” he cut you off bluntly, turning his back to you to pour himself a black coffee. “Ain’t got room to keep shit like that.”

You observed the beautiful mechanical bird, running your thumb over the delicate engravings on its metal surface.

“Whoa! No way!” Heat’s voice rang out as he walked into the room, rushing over to see what you were holding. With a look that silently asked for permission, he took the object from your hands and lifted it to eye level, scrutinizing it closely. “Is this... a hummingbird?!”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the small metal figure, and how Heat turned it around to get a better look.

“Does it flap its wings?”

“Of course it flaps its wings,” Kid snapped, immediately crossing the distance between you in just three strides. He snatched the hummingbird from Heat's hand and, with an unexpected gentleness, carefully placed it back in the palm of your hand. Then, he pressed a few tiny buttons, and you heard the soft click of gears syncing perfectly as the little bird gracefully unfurled its wings. Slowly, it began to flap, its speed increasing until the metal feathers blurred before your eyes.

"It beats its wings exactly 75 times per second," his painted lips stretched into a wide grin of pride as he heard you gasp in awe.

"Can you make it fly?"

The bird gracefully lifted off from the palm of your hand, hovering effortlessly in the air above before moving a short distance forward.

After a few seconds, its tiny wings rotated symmetrically, adjusting to the perfect angle to catch the air from front to back, and the bird flew backward.

"I can make anything out of metal fly," he chuckled at you, full of himself.

“Kid…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted your gaze from the hummingbird to the captain’s honey-colored eyes, “it’s perfect.”

“Yeah... whatever.” His heart swelled with an unexpected warmth as he watched your face light up with that adorable smile, but unsure of what to do with the feeling, his expression settled back into a sour pout. 

“A-anyway," he scratched his neck awkwardly, "I ain’t got time for this shit. It was just taking up space in the workshop, so I was gonna toss it. Keep it if you want... or throw it away, I don’t fucking care.”

At that moment, Killer walked in, his inscrutable gaze sweeping over the scene before landing on the extremely strong coffee the captain had poured for himself.

“Kid, how many hours of sleep did you get? It was 5 AM, and the workshop lights were still on.”

Kid shot him a murderous glance, his cheeks radiating warmth as they flushed a light pink.

“Huh? No, they weren’t–”

“Yes, they were. And I was starting to get worried with all those curses and banging and—”

“KIL, shut th—” Kid gritted his teeth in warning.

“—hammering at that hour.”

Heat and you exchanged glances before turning your attention to the captain, who was now burning as red as his tousled hair.

“Fuck, Kil!” he barked, trying not to meet your gaze. “WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”

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

Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

[rogueddie]

Helpless T | 497 words Prompt for steddielovemonth: Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time

Steve Harrington is smart.

It's a fact, something that Eddie is entirely unwilling to move an inch on. He knows Steve is smart, far smarter than he realizes himself, and especially smarter than any of the kids give him credit for.

But, quickly, he learns not to defend Steve on his intelligence. He quickly notices how often Steve uses their assumptions.

Sometimes he'll use their assumptions to get away with shit.

Usually he uses it to play the fool, playing a little into slapstick to make the group laugh. It's so easy for him to lighten the mood, knowing exactly what each person finds especially funny.

For some reason, when it's just him and Eddie, he doesn't play into the idiot role. He's calmer, relaxed... comfortable.

"One time I got Dustin to snort," Steve says, brushing past Eddie questions. "I've been trying to get him to do it again ever since. You shoulda seen his face. Priceless."

That was a day that Eddie tries his hardest to forget though.

He'd been so distracted when Steve lifted his shirt by the hem to wipe at his face that he'd walked straight into the sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard.

Steve had rushed over, panicked, and fussed over him, despite Eddie's mumbles assurance that he was fine.

"I've done it before," Steve says, patting him on the shoulder. "It's an easy mistake to make. But there's a trick, look, here, watch. This bit, here, is only visible when the door is open."

Other than filing the fact away, Eddie didn't think anything about that specific detail.

It wasn't until, two weeks later, when the kids were arguing over something small and starting to get heated that-

Steve walks straight into the glass door, bouncing off with a comical 'thump'.

The kids are immediately distracted from their argument, Max loudly cackling, Dustin yelling his teasing comments over the burst of noise.

"Hey, come on, how was I supposed to know?" Steve complains, rubbing at his head. "It's glass, man, you can't see it!"

"Oh my god," Mike groans, rolling his eyes. "It's so obvious!"

"Alright, genius, just because you've apparently got it all figured out-" Steve taunts, hands on hips.

"You don't have to be a genius, you just need eyes!"

"Not even," Max adds. "I can get through it fine."

Eddies attention is locked on Steve, who's defences only get progressively worse.

But, when he catches Eddie's eye, he shifts a little. Like he knows he's been caught, like he knows the gig is up.

He holds a finger to his lips for a moment, winking, before turning back to the kids.

"Colored glass doesn't really count as glass though, right? That's visible. Glass isn't."

Eddie shakes his head, biting back a laugh at how much louder the kids get.

He sends Steve a subtle thumbs up when he glances over again, resolutely ignoring the butterflies wiring around his stomach when Steve grins back, wide, eyes crinkling.

[steddieas-shegoes]

headcanon- steve secretly being insanely good at something, maybe chess or something similarly associated with intelligence. when everyone finds out they are surprised and doubtful leading steve to have the realization "oh. you guys genuinely think I'm stupid."

Steve loved seeing how things worked, he had since he was too young to actually figure things out by himself.

He got caught pulling apart his dad’s office calculator when he was nine, insisted he could put it back together, and did.

It took him a week, but he did it.

Then it was the house phone.

Then his desk lamp.

The toaster.

He always got them back together and working, but his parents weren’t very pleased if they caught him in the process.

Still, he loved the feeling of understanding how certain wires connecting meant something would light up or how one color wire would make something produce a number and another would produce power.

He continued doing it with random objects for years.

The concussions made it harder, his vision going blurry if he focused a little too long on a small part of the technology, his frustration making it even worse.

When Eddie found out, he gave him an old amp that wasn’t working anymore, said it probably would never work again but he could take a look inside.

Steve got it working in two days.

Wayne gave him their VHS player when it stopped rewinding, didn’t want to have to buy a new one even if they did have the money for it now. He had it fixed in four hours.

The oven in the new Munson home randomly stopped working, so of course Steve was called.

He came during Hellfire, ignoring the strange looks as he waved and made his way straight to kitchen.

He got to work, humming to himself as he made sure electricity was cut off from it, that there was no gas hookup anywhere, and pulled it from the wall.

The wiring inside was relatively straightforward, and he saw the problem almost immediately.

A loose wire connecting from the heat source to the controls. Easy fusing. Done.

He tested to make sure it was fixed, and ten minutes later, he was calling Wayne at work on the house phone to let him know it was fixed.

When he turned around, Dustin and Lucas were standing in the doorway, mouths open.

“You’ll catch flies like that. You know Eddie leaves the windows open all the time.”

“You fixed the oven?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“By yourself? Like the inside of it?”

“Yeah?”

“How? That’s so many wires and stuff.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s like, electrical engineering shit.”

Steve realized what was happening just as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You guys don’t think I’m smart enough.”

He felt like he hit a brick wall.

“What’s going on?” Eddie came to stand next to Steve, arm wrapping around his waist.

“We didn’t know Steve was smart.”

The words were unintentionally harsh, but Steve and Eddie flinched anyway.

“Steve’s incredibly smart. He fixes all kinds of things.”

“Eds, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. They know better than to make assumptions about someone based on grades in school or how they understand certain things.”

Steve shrunk into Eddie’s side, doing his best to hide his face while he held back tears.

“You can all apologize or you can leave.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve was almost convinced that they’d all left.

He turned his head to see everyone staring at him.

“We’re sorry, Steve. Really. Eddie’s right. We shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t super smart just because you didn’t do well in school or don’t understand us when we ramble.”

Will was always a good kid, maybe his favorite at the moment.

“‘S okay guys.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened on his waist for a moment.

“So do you fix all kinds of stuff or just appliances?”

“I like to take stuff apart and put it back together. Sometimes I just end up fixing something along the way.”

“So you could look at my walkie?” Max piped up. “It keeps going to static in the middle of me talking.”

“Sure. Probably just a disconnected wire between the speaker and the button.”

Max beamed back at him, not just happy he would try to fix it, but proud.

Everyone started asking if he could fix things they had, surprised when he agreed to it all.

They filtered back out to the dining room area where they played, except for Dustin.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re stupid or anything. I know you’re not stupid. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have been; you’re always finding the crossed wires with us and fixing those.”

Steve pulled him into a hug.

“People aren’t nearly as easy as electronics, dude.”

“Yeah, but you make it look that way.”

Steve quickly became the group’s engineer, always fixing what was broken, whether it was a flashlight or a bad day. He was pretty good at putting things and people back together.

[athenamikaelson]

Complaints and Harriet Styles Pt. 2

Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Warnings- strong language, innuendos, mentions of blood and death.

Word count- 2.5k 

 “Would it make me a bad person if I said he was hot?’ I asked Caroline as I sat in front of her vanity mirror as she curled my hair.  

“Y/n,” Caroline frowned at me as she looked at me through the mirror, “he either killed or is trying to kill our friends. He’s a bad guy, so don’t even think about it.” 

“I’m not saying I want to bang the guy or anything,” As I say that the the thought crosses my mind and it’s clear Caroline knows that as well as her frown deepens, “Care don’t get your Barbie hair in a twist. Even though his accent is dreamy and his blue eyes make my knees shake. I’m not going to try anything, obviously.” I say mockingly as Caroline watches me as if she’s somehow aged 100 years since our conversation began. Which you know isn’t possible because she’s literally immortal. 

“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. You’re either arguing with someone or hitting on them. Or even both!” She says as she throws her hands up in emphasis, the curler unplugging itself during her action. 

We both sit there in silence for a moment looking at the curler’s wire. I look up at her with a sly smile, “Does this mean we’re finally done? My ass hurts from sitting here and being your personal doll.” Caroline puts her hand on her hip with a displeased look on her face. 

“I haven’t finished curling the other half of your head, so turn around and shut it. And didn’t you just say I was the Barbie doll?” She says matter-of-factly as she replugs in the curler and waits for it to heat back up. 

“Ok well you are a Barbie doll, I’m more like that doll that Angelica had in Rugrats, y’know the one with fucked up hair and looks like she just got thrown into a blender.” I laugh at my own joke as Caroline rolls her eyes, a smile trying to make its way onto her face. 

I glance at my dark eyeshadow that makes my y/e/c eyes bright. 

“Why do I even have to go to this stupid dance, our school has like 14 a year. How does our town even have the budget for that? And why do we have to do weird decade dances?” 

“Y/N you’re going to homecoming, end of story. It’s our senior year. This past year has been so crazy that we deserve a little normalcy.” She says as she finishes my last section of hair. 

“Normalcy? You do realize that every dance we’ve had since last year has ended with someone dead or impaled right? It isn’t a Mystic Falls high school dance if it doesn’t end in blood!” Caroline just watches me in annoyance as she sprays my hair with hairspray, “accidentally” spraying some into my face.

“Bitch!” I cough out.

“Go get dressed!” She uses her strength to lift me up and push me over to her closet where my y/f/c dress is hanging.

I look over my shoulder, “I hate you.” 

Caroline smiles, “Love you too brat.”

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

I listen to the live band as I sip on the disgusting drink in my hand. Caroline who was supposed to chaperone tonight left me to go yell at Tyler for his wolfy crush or whatever on Klaus. I’m seriously debating on just walking myself home, since Caroline was my ride, as I watch on in disgust as teenagers grind against each other to the fast song the band is playing in the backyard of Tyler’s house. Somehow Tyler was able to put together a huge party since the gym was flooded last minute. Caroline didn’t seem suspicious but I on the other hand always think the worst is going to happen at any time, and with my friend group's history with dances I wouldn’t be surprised if something was going to go down tonight. I'm about to grab my bag and leave before shit goes down when I hear a British accent come from behind me. 

“Welcome everyone tonight,” I turn around, and low and behold that British fuck from Senior prank night is standing up on the stage in front of all of us, yapping about something. 

“This is a long time coming,” He says as he watches someone from the crowd with a smirk on his face. I follow his eye line to see Stefan staring back at him. Yikes. I look back to the Brit but find his eyes staring in my direction. I don’t think he’s looking at me until I send a look of disgust at him which makes the smirk on his face deepen. Fuck me. Wait. No. I quickly turn around and start to make my way to the edge of the party hoping to make my escape before I get sucked into whatever bullshit the Scooby gang is going to try to drag me into. I smile to myself as I’m about to be successful in my escape as my vision is blocked by something. Said something bumps me backwards throwing me off balance and I wait to hit the ground as I start falling, but nothing comes. I look up to see Klaus grabbing ahold of the top of my arm, keeping me from falling down.  

“What a fucking cliche,” I say to myself angrily. Klaus looks at me inquisitively. 

“What’s a cliche?” He asks me with that stupidly hot accent as I rip my arm away from his hold and put another foot's distance between us.

“You catching me,” I tell him but he only looks confused, “Y’know in romcoms when the girl trips and falls but doesn’t actually fall because the random hot main guy catches her. It’s a big fucking cliche.” I say huffing as Klaus watches me with that stupid fucking smirk on his face.

“And I’m the main hot guy?” He asks, clearly trying to get me to go along with his current ego trip.

“No, you’re not. Ryan Gosling is the hot main guy or Paul Rudd,” I let out a satisfactory sigh at Paul Rudd, “You’re more of the evil boos villain in video games.” 

“And what’s so wrong with being the villain?” He asks me as he takes a step towards me. 

I look at him with what I can only guess looks like a “are you fucking kidding me” look. 

“Literally everything. That’s literally the whole point of being the villain.” I put my hand out stopping him from stepping closer. Klaus watches me closely for a second too long. His gaze makes me quite uncomfortable because I can’t tell if he wants to kill me for speaking to him like I just did or applaud me for having the balls to. God, sometimes I just need to learn to shut the fuck up. 

“Dance with me.” He states as he puts his hand out waiting for me to give him my hand in return. My gaze goes from his face to his hand multiple times before I shake my head in annoyance. 

“No way dude,” I say as I start to book it back towards the house away from him. I don’t get far though because he’s in front of me again with a determined look on his stupidly hot face. God why does it always have to be the bad guys that are hot? 

“Either you dance with me, or I start killing your friends off one by one. I wonder where that blond friend of yours is, Tyler’s little girlfriend.” He says with a dark glint in his eyes. 

“Why?” I try to hold my ground even though I’m pretty sure I’m about to start pissing myself any second now. 

“Why what?” he asks me as he watches me.

“Why do you want to dance with me? Theirs like 200 other girls here that I’m sure would just jump at the chance to dance with some British guy.”

Klaus just shrugs his shoulder as if he himself doesn’t even have an answer to the question. 

“Because none of them have had the displeasure of catching my eye.” 

“And let me guess, I have?” I ask him. He doesn’t give me an answer though, only reaches out his hand once again waiting for me to take it. Annoyed I slap my hand in his and drag him to the dance floor. Once I push us into the middle of a big group, I turn to him.

“Don’t be pissy if I step on your toes.” Klaus just lets out a huff of a laugh as he drags my body closer to him so my chest is touching his. A shudder goes through my body at the contact and I mentally curse myself for the reaction. Fuck he smells good. Jesus Y/N get a grip, he’s just a guy. A thousand-year-old hot guy, but still just a guy. I look up to find Klaus already staring at me, with a knowing smirk on his face. I just roll my eyes as I try to play it off cool as he sways me to the now slow song.

“So tell me, how did you become friends with my doppelganger and her little group of followers?” A weird feeling of sadness flows through me at his question as I realize he only asked me to dance for information on my friends. 

“We grew up together. Small town like this everyone knows each other, sadly.” I say looking off to the distance and watching the other couples converse lovingly with one another. 

“Why sadly?” He asks me, and for a second I could’ve sworn I heard actual curiosity. I glance back at him and shrug. 

“I just hate this town. I never liked people knowing my business, and everyone here is so complacent with their normal lives. They never question anything or want to know more about anything other than what happens in our weird ass town.” I blush as I realize I just rambled on to a complete psycho about my feelings. But, the look on Klaus’s face isn’t one of annoyance or humor like the other people I’ve vented to usually have on their faces. His face turns from contemplation to understanding. 

“I know what you mean,” He says as he expertly twirls me around, “when I was a boy I grew up in a small village where the wasn’t much chance for prospering. I loved the arts and knew I would never be able to do anything with it. It made me angry. So I can understand your resentment.” He tells me and for a second I forget that he’s the blood-thirsty monster ruining my friend’s lives. 

“You like art?” He looks down at me with a soft smile as if the subject brings out a different side of him. 

“I’ve loved it for over a thousand years. The way emotions can be shown through a canvas and bring out emotion so foreign is unlike anything else I found over a millennium of living,” His eyes trail down to mine, “What do you think?” 

I nod softly in agreement, “I love art. Not really painting because I’m kind of shit at it, but sketching and just looking at art. Although I’m not a fan of this new-age art where someone can splash a canvas with a line of color and sell it for a million dollars. I like art that means something to someone. Art that when you look at it you can feel the emotions that the artist was feeling, every move of the brush stroke made with heart and emotion.” Klaus nods along to my rambling again with a soft look on his face. A look that I can’t quite decipher since it’s on the face of one of the scariest men in the world. 

As the song comes to an end I reluctantly let go of Klaus’s hands. He stares at me for a moment and I think he’s just going to turn around and walk off realizing he didn’t get the information he wanted but then a small laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head. I watch on in slight confusion wondering if he’s having some kind of stroke or something. 

“You’re not like them you know,” he must notice my confusion because he continues, “like your friends. You’re nothing like them.” I pang of hurt pierces my chest as I turn away and start to walk off, “Well screw you too.” 

“I didn’t mean that as an insult,” He says hastily as he grabs my arm turning me back towards him, “You’re friends they’re small-minded. They think of only themselves and not the world around them, or how amazing it can be.” I go to interrupt him and tell him not to insult my friends but he cuts me off. 

“You need something bigger than this little town. Something that brings you life. When I originally saw you that night in the gym I thought you were just going to be like the rest of them. But you surprised me Y/n, and not many people can say that.” 

I just stare at him in amazement for what seems like forever as I try to piece together everything he just told me. In my stupor though a woman approaches Klaus and whispers something to him which makes his originally light demeanor change to something dark. The woman walks away as Klaus looks at me once more.

“Whenever you decide you want to be a part of something bigger, see something other than this little town I’d be happy to show you. All you need to do is ask.” He tells me as he grabs my hand and places a chaste kiss upon it. I still can't get the balls to say anything as he gives me one last glance before he follows behind the woman. 

What the actual fuck.

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

I walked up to my front porch after getting dropped off by Matt because I guess Tyler drugged Caroline with vervain to save her from a pack of mind-controlled hybrids so that’s why she couldn’t bring me home. Sometimes I really hate my friend group. Why can’t for once we deal with normal people's problems like pop quizzes or acne? Like why does not one person in that entire group have a pimple on their skin? That’s the most supernatural thing going on here.

I’m about to open my front door when a small envelope catches my eye at the bottom of my feet. I look over my shoulder and only see Matt as he waits for me to enter my house. I wave to him with the envelope in hand and walk inside my house. I hastily open the envelope and pull out a piece of thick canvas paper. The paper is covered with a beautiful sketch of what appears to be an open field covered in flowers with grazing horses in the distance. Being so engrossed in the sketch I didn't notice the small note on the back. 

“There’s a whole world out there just waiting for you to experience, love. When you’re ready to experience it, I’ll be waiting.” – Klaus

Taglist-

@grac3aph3lion @megmcc2003 @kollover24 @nameunknownsthings

[sunny44]

The breaking point

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Teammate!reader

Warnings: arguments, crying and maybe other things

Summary: Max and Y/n, longtime teammates with a complicated relationship, find themselves in the midst of a heated argument that pushes their bond to its breaking point. As emotions run high, Max says things that he shouldn’t leading him to hurt the only person that matters to him.

I’ve known Y/n for years, and from the very beginning, our relationship was anything but simple. On the track, we were the perfect team, almost like we were made for each other. We pushed each other to the edge, always trying to be faster, stronger, better. But off the track, things were different. At the start it was just us not liking each other and then as time passes I started to like her, and as moras time passed I started to feel different e about her. When she was away from me I wanted her close and when she was with me I wanted her closer.

And after that I realized that I was in love with her, but there was always this tension between us, like an invisible wire pulled tight, just waiting to snap.

Today, that wire snapped.

It all started in the paddock. We were in the middle of discussing strategy, something that should have been routine. But for some reason, things escalated. Maybe it was the stress of the season, the constant pressure to perform, the fact that from being the top team and always winning races we were in fifth and sixth place in the last few races, or maybe we were just tired. But whatever it was, it made us both say things we shouldn’t have.

“I’m sick of you always blaming me, Max!” Y/n’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the garage like a knife. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing, and I could see the anger in her eyes, the frustration that had been building for who knows how long. “I’m not the one that made the car a piece of shit in this last few races.”

I should have backed off. I should have taken a breath and calmed down because deep down I Ken I would snap at her even if I didn’t wanted to. But instead, I let my own anger take over.

“And I’m fucking sick of you and your bullshit! I wish I never met you!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. As soon as they left my lips, I knew I’d crossed a line. A line we’d never crossed before.

The moment the words were out there, I wished I could take them back. It wasn’t true—none of it was true. But the damage was done. Y/n’s face went pale, and I saw the shock in her eyes, like I’d just slapped her across the face.

She stood there, frozen, her chest heaving as she tried to process what I’d just said. I’ve seen her angry, frustrated, even upset, but I’ve never seen her like this—completely stunned, like I’d just ripped her heart out and crushed it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her.

“Is that really how you feel?” Her voice trembled, and for the first time, I saw something I never thought I’d see—tears in her eyes.

My stomach twisted into knots. I wanted to tell her no, that I didn’t mean it, that it was just the heat of the moment and that I loved her. But my throat felt tight, like I couldn’t get the words out. All I could do was stare at her, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this.

Y/n blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I could see her fighting to keep it together. She was the strongest person I knew—nothing ever got to her, and she never let anyone see her cry. But now, because of me, she was on the verge of breaking.

I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Why did I say that? Why did I let my anger get the best of me? I knew how much she meant to me, how much I needed her, and yet I still said something so cruel, something I didn’t even mean.

When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were filled with hurt, and it cut me deeper than anything else.

“I never thought… you of all people would say that to me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the pain in it was deafening. “I knew you didn’t like me but that was cruel, even for you.”

I tried to move closer, to say something, anything, that would make it right.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean it.” I said, but my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears. I reached out toward her, but she pulled away, putting more distance between us. It was like a punch to the gut.

“Don’t.” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through me like glass. “Just… don’t.”

She turned away, her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying the weight of the world. She started walking toward the dressing room, her steps quick and determined, like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t let her leave like this, not when she didn’t know the truth.

“Fuck… No! Y/n, wait!” I called after her, my voice cracking with desperation. I started running after her, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed her to understand that I didn’t mean what I said. I couldn’t lose her—not like this.

She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. She was almost at the door when I finally caught up to her. I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, but she jerked away from me like I’d burned her.

“Please, Y/n, just listen to me.” I begged, my voice breaking. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but I fought them back. She needed to know how much she meant to me, how much I regretted what I’d said.

Y/n paused, her hand resting on the door handle, but she didn’t turn around.

“Why, Max? Why should I listen to you? So you can hurt me even more?” Her voice was so quiet, so filled with pain, that it made my chest ache.

“I didn’t mean it.” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I was angry, and I said something stupid. I don’t wish I never met you—I could never wish that. You mean too much to me, Y/n. More than you could ever know.”

There was a long silence. I could see her shoulders shaking slightly, and I knew she was trying not to cry. It was killing me to see her like this, knowing I was the reason for her pain.

Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible.

“I never thought you’d hurt me like this, Max.” She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes nearly broke me. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and it was all my fault.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just give me a chance.”

She looked down at the floor, her expression conflicted.

“I need time,” she said eventually, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I just… I need to think.”

I nodded, even though the thought of being apart from her, even for a little while, made my chest tighten with fear.

“Take all the time you need,” I said softly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, then turned and walked through the door, leaving me standing there alone in the corridor. I stared at the closed door for what felt like an eternity, my heart heavy with regret.

As I finally turned to walk away, I made a silent promise to myself. I would find a way to make this right, no matter what it took. Because Y/n wasn’t just my teammate—she was the one person in the world I couldn’t imagine living without.

Bonus scene!

Y/nusername instagram stories

“Rewatching old races, getting pretty and working”

This will have a part 2, if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments

[redvexillum]

A/N: It was supposed to be a raunchy one-shot but somewhere along the way, the feels have been caught. Also, special thank you to @glitterypeachy for the amazing Vox fanart on my title banner!

SUMMARY: Your boss, Vox, is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.

...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom!reader, sub!Vox, dual POV, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, mutual attraction, pining, p in v, fluff, soft, edging, electrostimulation (brief)

<- PREV

“Ugh, fuck!” Vox cried out, panting heavily, his body writhing against the cords binding him. You giggled softly, your hands hovering tantalizingly close to his desperate cock, begging for release.  

This game had been going on for a while; you’d tricked him into thinking he was going to fuck you. Instead, you lay on his legs, your breasts pressed up against his quivering thighs, slowly stroking him.  

“What’s wrong, boss?” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin. You trailed the tip of your tongue along the sensitive curve of his head, tasting the salty musk of his arousal. With a sigh, you gently pulled back the foreskin, placing a soft kiss just below the tip.  

He groaned deeply, a sound filled with both pleasure and frustration, his cock twitching in your grasp. The throbbing pulse under your touch was irresistible, and his obvious tell when he was about to cum made it impossible not to edge him, again and again. 

“Ho-how long?” he whined, shifting his hips desperately, trying to press his cock against you, rubbing against you, anything to relieve the pressure building inside his balls.  

“Well,” you whispered, your finger trailing lightly from the head of his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum and painting it down the thick vein of his shaft, “when I’m ready to fuck you, sir.” You said ‘sir’ with a cheeky grin, your voice pitched high in mockery.  

A soft, needy whine escaped him as he wiggled his body, trying to find any relief from the intense need that had him in a choke-hold. His chest rose and fell rapidly, pixelated sweat streamed down his face. Stifling a giggle, you pressed your lips against the middle of his shaft, closing your eyes to savour the searing heat of his skin.  

“Ah, fuck,” he moaned, his hips jerking upward as you trailed barely there kisses down his length. Your fingers curled around the wires wrapped tightly around his hips, and as you tugged them down, Vox unexpectedly let out a loud yelp.  

Startled, your eyes flew open as you saw Vox wince. You glanced down at your hand and noticed the wire you had tugged on had an exposed section. Realization dawned on you that you had accidentally shocked him. “Oh, shit,” you cringed as you carefully tried to unravel the surrounding wire. “Are you alright?” 

When Vox didn’t answer, you looked back at his face and saw a red tint flushed across it. He didn’t look upset or in pain. In fact, the way he was panting with a grin plastered across his screen, he looked rather…excited.  

You glanced down at the wire and experimentally pressed it against his inner thigh. The reaction was immediate. He cursed, his back arching while his cock stood straight and a pool of pre-cum began to form at the tip.  

Oh. He really liked this, didn’t he? 

You pressed your finger on the exposed wire, but you didn’t feel anything – not even a tingle. But judging by Vox’s reaction, he definitely felt the shock that your body couldn’t register.  

Humming, you gave him a smirk and hovered the wire just above the tip of his dick. You looked up at him, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eyes.  

Vox’s eyes were transfixed on the open wire, his breath hitching. Hesitantly, he lifted his hips, slowly inching closer. He paused when the tip of his cock was just a hair’s breadth away from the wire. You stood still, watching him, waiting for him to embrace the sensation on his own.  

With a deep breath, Vox surged forward, making the decision himself. The moment his cock touched the open wire, he cried out loudly, his voice echoing off the walls. His hips shuddered violently as he continued to press his leaking tip against the wire, pre-cum smearing around.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, fuck me!” he moaned, his face glitching with pop-ups warning of overheating before his expression returned, contorted with pleasure.  

As soon as you pulled the wire away from his cock, he sobbed, his hips thrusting in desperate, tiny stokes into the air, as if he were fucking an invisible pussy. His body craved the shocking sensation of the open wire, the lust in his eyes undeniable.  

“Let me,” his tone wavered with the glitches, “let me fuck you. I’ll fuck you so good,” he promised, or maybe he was begging, as he shut his eyes and tiny shivers wracked his frame.  

“I don’t know,” you said in a sing-song voice. Moving up, you sat on his abdomen, enjoying the view as his shirt rode up, exposing his chest. You pulled on the wire, lightly patting it against his skin, trailing it up his abdomen as he continued to buck his hips, pressing the tip of his cock urgently against your backside.  

“Fuck me,” he groaned, his bound hands trembling above his head.  

“You know, you cock blocked me for the past two years, boss,” you said casually. You dropped the damaged wire next to him, unreachable. Vox whimpered as he saw the wire lying far from him, the stimulating sensation just out of his reach.  

Vox blinked once, then twice, as your words seemed to finally penetrate his pleasure-fogged brain. His eyes snapped back to your face. “Cock block?” he asked, his voice regaining its normal timbre.  

His brows knitted together as he searched your eyes for meaning. “Are you …uh…seeing somebody?” he asked quietly, and the atmosphere between you shifted into something uncomfortable and heavy.  

With a sharp, bitter laugh, you shook your head. “Not anymore. She officially dumped me today,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual.  

“Oh,” Vox replied, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.  

That bastard. He was probably mocking you in his mind right now.  

Widening your thighs, you presented your cunt to him, giving him a full view of your dripping, swollen folds. His eyes widened as he took in the sight, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at your glistening, sopping hole.  

“You see, boss,” you said, your voice thick with desire, “with all the shitty overtime you have me doing, I haven’t come in ages.” You slid your fingers between your lips, stretching your hole open, feeling your inner walls clench and twitch, desperately craving something – anything – inside of you.  

“We could fix that,” Vox said, his tone eager as he tried to inch closer, his head straining forward.  

“How about,” you began, slowly stroking your clit with your other hand, moaning emphatically, “I finish all over you and then go home?” 

Vox chuckled at your empty threat. “Or you could untie me, and I’ll make you feel really good, sunshine.”  

The cocky smile on your lips froze, along with the fingers pressing against your bare centre.  

Sunshine.  

You hadn’t heard Vox call you by that nickname since you’d started avoiding him after catching his tongue down Val’s throat.   

“Sunshine?” You had asked one night after you and Vox had wrapped up the latest project together. “That’s new, sir,” you giggled, feeling a flutter of happiness and nerves in your chest.  

“I thought it suited you, since you brighten my day!” Vox had exclaimed, flashing you a cheeky grin before both of you burst into laughter.  

Your hands slowly withdrew from your cunt, and you tilted your head, a look of defiance in your eyes. “Boss,” you responded, unwilling to give in to his demands.  

Vox’s eyes widened. Despite his wrists being bound, he reached out toward you, his desperation palpable. “Sunshine, untie me.” 

“Yikes, that’s so cheesy!” you had said with a laugh, covering your lips as elation filled your heart. You stood up from your desk and slowly began to pack up your documents. Vox, who was sitting on the edge of your desk, slid off and swallowed the space between you.  

His hand landed heavily on the document, stopping you from keeping your mind and your body busy. Stopping you from thinking about anything else but him. His frame cast a shadow over you – inviting you to sink deeper into his presence. 

“What if I don’t want to, sir?” you cut off the memory, pushing it away. You didn’t want to think about that right now.  

“Vox,” he said, grinning at you as he wiggled his bound hands in front of you. “I have my dick out, and you’ve been torturing me for the better part of the evening. At least call me by my name, sunshine.” 

His sharp red eyes had softened as he leaned closer. “Call me by my name, sunshine,” he murmured, his lips inching ever closer to yours.  

Your smile slowly faded, you hadn’t intended to stay late tonight. The office that was shrouded in darkness, transformed with Vox’s presence. The large, clear windows absorbed the soft golden light from the gates of Heaven, turning the usual dull office space into a resplendent dimension.  

It felt as if you and Vox were transported to a place far, far away from prying eyes and expectations.  

Against your better judgment, you stepped closer to him. “I don’t think it would be appropriate of me to start calling the CEO of VoxTek by his name,” you said, stepping even closer until the toes of your shoes barely grazed his. “Sir.” 

Vox grinned, that sure, cocky grin that made his employees feel that if they followed him, their path would only be filled with success. “Luckily, no one’s around to hear you,” he chuckled. With the tip of his claws, he gently lifted your chin, aligning your gaze with his. “So, it’s Vox,” he said softly, almost conspiratorially.  

You found it difficult to say no to him these days. In truth, you didn’t want to say no because deep down, it was what you wanted. “Vox,” you repeated quietly.  

His eyes searched yours, and yet neither of you made the next move, teetering on the threshold between boss and employee, waiting to see who would dare to cross it first. The surrounding air was thick with unspoken desires, the golden light casting a romantic glow, as if the universe itself was urging you both to take that final step.  

You stared at Vox’s wrists as memories from years ago faded into the back of your mind. Slowly, your fingers gently pulled the wires off; they were already loose, and if he had chosen to, he could have escaped on his own. Holding his wrists carefully in your hands, you found yourself stunned, unable to face him.  

With a forced smile, you tried your best to feign nonchalance, “I didn’t know I was still your sunshine." After all, you thought all the previous, frivolous flirting had died the moment your boss made his intentions with Valentino clear.  

“It suits you,” Vox said softly. Sitting up slowly, his claws traced a gentle line down your cheek before stopping below your chin, tilting your head to face him just like he did so many years ago.  

“Because I brighten your day?” you asked, raising a brow, pretending his words and the memories you shared didn’t affect you.  

Pretending you didn’t feel anything for him.  

But your pretense was pointless. The moment you recited his lines from the past, his face brightened, and he played a quirky sound, like a game show, signifying that you were correct.  

You snorted at the silliness of it all because this was the side of him that had made you fall in love in the first place.  

“That’s right,” Vox said, his hands cradling the sides of your face. “You still brighten my day, so that makes you, my sunshine.” 

His words finally carved a place in your chest, or perhaps, he always had a place there. As you let the meaning, the intention, behind his words sink in, you...

Ah, fuck.  

You hated him. 

You really, really, hated him.  

Your fingers reached for his head, grasping the sides firmly as you pulled him toward you. “You owe me a lot of kisses, Vox,” you whispered, your lips so close that even the slightest movement would bring them together in a soft kiss.  

All those missed opportunities, you were going to take them now with maximum interest.

“You’re right, I do,” Vox agreed easily. In a flourish of strength you hadn’t expected, he crashed his lips against yours. You felt the screen of his face soften, the warmth and wetness of his tongue glided into your mouth. The wires snapped from the force as Vox pushed you down to the floor, his body covering yours.  

He pulled back, panting, and you managed to say, “Those cords were a bitch to order, I just wanted you to know.” 

Laughing, Vox covered your lips with his again, ravaging the inside of your mouth, his tongue mapping out every inch, tasting you, leaving traces of himself so you could still feel him even after he parted. His hands roamed your body, each touch sending shivers down your spine.  

Your bodies moved in sync, the heat between you building with every kiss, every touch. The world outside the office ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other. The culmination of years of tension and unspoken feelings finally being released.  

The heat of his cock pressed against your folds, and he moaned as he slowly sank in his tip. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled, making short thrusting motions, sinking deeper into you with each stroke.  

Your legs wrapped around his waist, signalling him to fully bottom out. You yelped, feeling the unexpected depth and stretch; it had been a while since you last had sex. The molten heat of his cock prodded deep within you before he withdrew and quickly snapped his hips forward, driving his cock back inside.  

“Ah, fuck!” you cried, your claws clinging to his back as moans threatened to escape your lips.  

His breaths were short and uneven as he continued to hump you, his hips snapping into you, wet, meaty flesh slapping together. The sounds of your union echoed in his office.  

“Feels good, fuck, tell me it feels good, sunshine,” he panted, stretching and fucking the sensitive bundles of nerves deep within you.  

You couldn’t stop yourself from goading him, especially to a man as prideful as Vox. “Ah — you -” you gasped as he circled his hips, rubbing his pubic bone against the sensitive clit before fucking you again, “if you make me cum, maybe I’ll leave a five-star review,” you said, grinning before the pleasure overwhelmed you.  

Vox choked out a laugh, lifting your body until he was sitting on the floor. Your breasts bounced up and down as he grabbed your hips, lifting and dragging you while moving his hips in tandem. His cock plunged deeper with each motion, hitting spots inside you that sent electric shocks of pleasure through your body.  

“Oh fuck,” you whined, closing your eyes as this position perfectly targeted your g-spot. The coiling heat and pressure built inside you, making you tremble. “Oh, please, please, don’t stop,” you cried, feeling your nerves buzzing and your body steadily climbing towards the peak. “Don’t stop, Vox, don’t stop,” you moaned, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.  

“Yeah, let me see you cum, sunshine,” Vox panted, his moans mingling with yours. “Fuck, I want to see you cum all over my cock,” he growled, his tongue laving against the sensitive peak of your nipple. The way his teeth grazed your skin sent jolts of sensation directly to your heated core.  

The targeted bundles of nerves were all you needed. Your head fell back as you mewled and sobbed, your walls fluttering around the thick length of his cock, trying to milk him with everything you had. It was as if all the stress you carried within your body was released at once, your mind woozy as the rush of pleasure pierced through you.  

You screamed as your climax hit hard, your entire body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. You were sure at this point you were babbling, and you didn’t give a damn what words came out because fuck, this was what you needed and wanted for years.  

Feeling your cunt tighten around his throbbing cock, Vox groaned loudly, swearing and praising your pussy as he filled you with his release. His hot cum spurted inside you, filling you to the brim, the sensation sending another shiver through your already hyper-sensitive body.  

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he moaned, his thrusts slowing to deep, deliberate strokes, ensuring he painted every inch of your walls.  

His arms wrapped around your sluggish body as your head comfortably rested against his chest. You heard the heavy thud of his heartbeat against your ear. Strands of hair stuck to your face, the room too hot from the running computers and the heat of your union, yet you didn't want to move away from his embrace.  

You didn’t want to wake up from this dream and leave him.  

His claws gently carded through your hair as he sighed in contentment. It was then that exhaustion hit you with full force, the post-orgasmic haze serving only to relax your body further, rendering the caffeine you had consumed utterly useless.  

Your eyes started to flutter closed, but you forced them open despite the stinging tiredness. You had to wear your clothes and leave; you couldn’t fall asleep in his arms.  

Ah, but since this was a dream, maybe you’d wake up back in the office again. A sudden surge of emotion hit you, and you pressed your face against his chest, savouring the warmth and comfort. You forgot how nice it felt to be held.  

“Sunshine?” Vox called out quietly, his claws gently brushing your hair in a soothing motion that made your muscles relax to the point of melting on him. 

“Mhm?” You hummed softly in response.  

“Stay with me?” he asked, his other hand wrapped around your waist, tightening. “I want to renegotiate on your contract.” 

You huffed out a quiet laugh, your eyes now fully closed, and your arms loosely wrapped around his torso. “Really, Vox? One good fuck, and you want to renegotiate on our contract?” 

“Well, we could add fucking to our contract, where I give you at least one good fuck every day,” his voice was whimsical and light, and you felt a light kiss against the top of your head.  

“And how long would this next contract be?” you asked, playing along with him, knowing that none of his and your words would come to pass.  

“Forever,” Vox said without missing a beat. “It would be for forever.” 

Your muscles seized momentarily before relaxing once more. This was a dream, right? Your subconscious was seriously contemplating working forever with him? How much of a masochist were you? Did you really enjoy working that much? 

“Will I still have to work mandatory overtime? Cause that’s incredibly shitty,” you murmured, rubbing your face against his chest, wanting to burrow deeper into him. “Will you still be an asshole?” you added quietly.  

There were so many other questions you wanted to ask, knowing you would never get an answer to any of them. “I’m tired,” you said, your voice tinged with sadness and fatigue. The words slurred slightly as each strand of your muscles started to relax.  

The simple words were weighed with meaning – tired of working overtime, tired of pretending that you didn’t have feelings for him, just overall tired. 

“Oh, that’s…” Vox hesitated, then you felt your body being lifted. “How about you rest up in my suite tonight, and we can talk about this tomorrow morning?” 

The last thing you remembered was opening your mouth, but you weren’t sure if you answered him at all before darkness and fatigue finally claimed your vision.  

You cuddled closer to the source of warmth, relishing the feel of another body beside you. Could it be? Did your girlfriend come back? Your eyes slowly opened, and you were first greeted by a bare torso, the skin colour a deep navy blue.  

Furrowing your brows, you slowly got up from the plush bed that was way too comfortable compared to what you were used to, with sheets as soft as something you couldn’t even compare to.  

Blinking slowly, your eyes flicked down to your body, and you smothered a sharp gasp, realizing that you were completely naked. Your eyes immediately looked at the face of the body’s owner, but you already knew who it was without having to look. 

The moment you saw the VoxTek's logo bouncing on your boss’s face to indicate he was in sleep mode, a groan escaped your lips, muffled by your hand.  

You had to be kidding yourself. You didn’t just do the most clichéd thing imaginable. But when memories of last night came flooding in to your mind, each one raunchier than the last, you bowed your head in defeat.

It wasn't a dream.

Fuck.

As if to confirm your worst fears, you felt his arms wrap around you with a firm, possessive grip. Before you could react, his lips planted a loud, affectionate smooch on your cheek. “Good morning, sunshine!” he said, his voice warm and teasing, filled with cheerful energy that contrasted sharply with the storm of emotions brewing inside of you.  

Your heart raced as you tried to process the situation, your mind still tangled in a web of confusion and regret. You shifted slightly, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours and the weight of last night’s decision heavily on your shoulders.  

You had a thousand and one excuses ready: how last night was a mistake, how you weren’t in your right mind, how the sex was meaningless. 

But when you faced Vox, his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness and his arms wrapped around you with such tenderness, every excuse, every justification dissipated from your tongue.  

“Good morning,” you said, forcing a smile that felt as brittle as dry leaves. Your arms lay limp and loose in your lap as Vox sidled closer, his body radiating warmth. He tried to fully embrace you, but you felt the tremor in his arms when you didn’t return the gesture. The tremors were like an earthquake, splintering apart the ground of your resolve.  

The pad of his thumb drifted up to your cheek, gently stroking your face. Each touch was a soft caress, yet it felt like tiny needles prickling at your skin. His gaze roamed your features, his eyes dark and searching. Heat climbed up to your cheeks, mortified by how intimate his gesture was especially when both of you were stripped bare.

The air was thick with the scent of his cologne, a heady mix of spice and a sharp cool, tang of mint, wrapping around your throat as memories of last night flashed through your mind.  

“Sunshine?” Vox’s voice was a whisper, his breath ghosting across your skin as he pressed his body closer to yours. The pressure of his chest against you was a contradicting blend of comfort and a burden.  

“Yes...” you closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself, then opened them again, reigniting the determination and resolve you had nurtured for years. “Boss?” 

Vox chuckled weakly, the sound rough and strained. He continued to embrace you, his refusal to let you go was a silent plea. “So, it’s boss again, huh?” 

Your eyes stung as if salt had been rubbed into them, while your stomach churned, feeling as if it were filled with hot lead boiling your insides. You wanted to push him away because things would never work between you. 

You had two years to truly observe his relationship with his psychotic lover, and you were sure that the moment he found out about your affair with Vox, that shitty moth demon would kill you.  

“You can’t honestly think this would work, right, sir?” Your voice lacked the cruel, hard, edge needed to cut away the tender moment tying you two together. You looked at him, your heart once again held in your hands as you made an offering to him.  

You should push him away.

You must push him away.

You needed to push him away.

Yet, your treacherous hands touched his sides, pulling him closer to you. His response was an instantaneous sigh as he sank deeper into your embrace. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was almost unbearable, the heat between you intensifying the pain in your chest.  

“We won’t know unless we try,” Vox’s voice trembled, his smile tightening at the edges. “Are you going to leave me too?” he asked softly, his smile becoming lopsided as he tried to keep a light-hearted tone.  

Your brows furrowed, confused. What did he mean by “too”? The question lingered, but it was quickly overshadowed by the same chaotic thoughts that always swirled in your mind: your desire for him versus the stark reality of your situation. Your heart and mind were locked in a bloody feud that had raged on for years, neither side willing to concede.  

“Do you honestly think this would work?” You repeated the question, your voice tinged with desperation.

You needed to hear him say no.

Humanity had always done stupid things for love, willingly deluding themselves despite knowing that heartbreak lay at the end of the road. Yet, they would foolishly pick love over and over again.  

You would pick love, over and over again because... 

If there was even a small chance of obtaining a typical fairy tale ending... 

“Vox?” your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. You leaned in closer towards his warmth, his embrace tightening around you. The cries of victory within your chest resonated as your mind finally relented.  

If there was even a small chance that you could be happy with him... 

“Sunshine,” Vox’s claws gripped your hips, pulling you closer and closer to his chest. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice wavered with desperation despite his attempts to remain calm and collected. “Stay with me.” 

If the road ahead that were surely filled with bumps and hardships but promised something worth fighting for at the end, then... 

With a slow, shuddering exhale, you smiled softly at him. The pain and distress in his eyes began to melt away. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. You didn’t need a grand declaration to affirm each other’s affection. The quiet, simple connection was enough.  

As you felt his muscles relax, he returned your kiss, his eyes slowly closing. His hand cradled the back of your head, refusing to part from you, as if the very act of letting go would make you disappear from his grasp.  

If Vox believed this relationship was worth trying, then you wanted to believe that too.  

You pressed your chest against his, wanting him to feel the doubt that had plagued you for so long crumbling away with every beat of your heart. As you slowly parted from him, his breath mingled with yours, warm and reassuring.  

Right now, all that mattered was this moment, this connection, this unspoken promise of a future together.  

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3 || Part One

PART 6/6 - GROUP ACTIVITIES (Everyone)

CW: sex with strangers, afab reader, semi-public sex, fingering, oral, in a moving vehicle, is it unsafe sex if its happening without seatbelts in a moving car?, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, cockwarming, fivesome- F/M/M/M/M, M/M action, bdsm, shibari, choking, hair pulling, squirting, degradation, pain kink, deep throating (m receiving), spitting, bukkake, handjobs, blowjobs, p in v sex, pet play/use of pup/dog/master

WC: 5.5k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin @bbnbhm

Wire probably could have finished the walk back to camp in half an hour given his long legs, but he took it slowly, careful to not jostle you too much as you snored softly in his ear, nuzzled up against his soft hoodie. You didn't wake until he returned to camp, the reverb of his voice in his chest pulling you from your deep sleep with a yawn.

“She okay Wire?” Killer asked with concern as Wire approached their tent, gravel crunching underfoot. “She fall on the trail or something? Her knees look sore.” Wire just replied with a shit eating grin, to which Killer gave an amused huff as he caught the meaning. Killer had to admit, he was a little proud of you, he wasn't sure you'd be able to successfully crack Wire but you'd proven him wrong.

“Help me out with her, will ya?” Wire said as he carefully bent at the knee to unzip his tent and lay you on this air bed, “can you grab me a wet cloth to clean her up?”

“On it,” Killer gave a mock salute and went to his own tent to grab something he could dampen. He wet it in the kitchen and quickly returned, sliding into the tent and sitting behind you to prop you up. You winced as Wire put the damp cloth against your knees.

“Jeez, what'd you do to the poor girl?” Killer joked.

“Spanked me, fucked my throat, pounded my ass,” you replied with a half lidded smile, making both men snort. “Fuckin… monster cock,” you said sleepily.

You were half asleep and quickly drifting off while Killer massaged your shoulders and Wire cleaned and applied antiseptic cream to your wounds. They weren't too bad so he didn't bother to dress them, they'd no doubt look and feel a lot better in a few hours. When he was done with your hands and knees he indicated for Killer to put you on your belly, and you gave a little squeak as he laid you over his knees and Wire yanked down your pants.

Killer made a low whistle as he saw how red your ass was, clear prints from a large hand painted red on your soft flesh. You whined as he ran a hand over the marks softly. Wire was rummaging through a black duffle not far from your face, and you almost choked when you saw the other contents. Ropes, anal plugs, lubes, what looked like a swatch of leather no doubt for impact play, a ball gag and a dildo that was closer to Killer's cock size.

“Fuckin’ hell, and here I thought I came to camp prepared,” you snorted as Wire found what he was looking for. Killer didn't even blink an eye at the bag, he clearly already knew about it. “I haven't seen you bring any other girls to your tent so who are those for?”

“Heat, mostly,” Wire replied with a smirk as he applied a soothing balm to your ass. Your eyes went wide thinking about it. Sweet Heat, bound and gagged, now there's something you could get behind.

“Fuck, I'd love to see that,” you hummed.

“Maybe you will if you're a good girl,” Wire gave your ass a gentle, playful slap before Killer helped him pull your shorts back up. You stayed where you were, still very sleepy but a little more awake now. Besides, Killer's lap was comfy.

“Well, I hope it'll happen tonight cos I'm heading home tomorrow,” you told them with a pang of sadness. It was very tempting to just call in sick on Tuesday so you could take an extra day at camp but you really had shit to do at work.

“Aw, you're leavin’ us doll?” Killer said, feigning hurt.

“Unfortunately, sorry boys, this ride was a limited time offer,” you hummed.

“Well, at least let us take you out to dinner tonight,” Killer offered, “we were gonna ask anyway but we found a restaurant Kid wants to try while we were in town so we were planning on heading back around dinner time”

“I won't say no to a free meal,” you rolled onto your back and stretched out with a yawn, “need a nap though”

“You just woke up!” Wire huffed, “snored in my ear the whole way from the summit!”

Killer snorted a laugh and you pouted. “It's not my fault your massive cock wore me out!”

Wire sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, you can sleep here if you want, but I have shit to do. Don't drool on my pillow”

“Yes sir,” you winked, climbing out of Killer's lap and snuggling into Wire's blankets. They smelt of masculine musk and some sort of spice. “Wanna take a nap with me Kil?”

“I'd love to, but I promised Kid I'd go for a swim with him,” Killer patted where your leg was under the blanket, then he stooped and gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead, “I'll come wake you before dinner with enough time to change, get some sleep”

“Thanks Kil,” you yawned again, curling up in a little ball and nuzzling your head against Wire's pillow.

As promised, Killer woke you for dinner, and you changed into a cute, slightly nicer dress and some cute strappy heels. You even applied some fresh makeup before heading into town with the boys. Dinner was lovely, it was a pretty nice steakhouse restaurant you'd never tried before, and now that Wire was more comfortable with you the conversation was energetic and pleasant. These boys were fun to be around for sure, and you laughed more than you thought possible with strangers. You learned they actually all worked together as mechanics at a store they co-owned together, and while Heat and Wire were older, they'd all known each other since high-school. Kid was the main mechanic, Killer was the people person (though he was also a trained mechanic), Heat was a welder and Wire handled the money.

Tummies full (after watching them all eat a frankly concerning amount) you all huddled back into the ute, Heat being kind enough to lift you into the cab since it was so high up, before climbing in himself and sandwiching you between him and Killer. The two of them were the least wide of the four, so they'd arranged themselves this way to give you more space, with Wire driving.

“So,” Kid started, “Kil mentioned you're heading back tomorrow. Where to?”

“Ah, I don't really like to share that information,” you replied shyly.

“Really? You've had us all inside you but you won't say where you're from?” Kid huffed.

“That's sort of the point baby,” you smirked, “wouldn't be strangers if you knew. Besides, what if you're all actually stalker serial killers?”

“Probably shouldn't have gotten in a car with us then,” Killer mused.

“Alright Killer,” you snorted, “like that isn't a serial killer name. Actually, you might be right. Ah well, I never claimed to be smart. Just horny”

“Yeah?” Killer leaned over so his breath was brushing against your ear, making you shiver, a hand trailing up your thigh, “you horny now?”

“Sweetheart, I'm always horny,” you replied back. Killer gave Wire a look through the rear view mirror, both of them sharing a grin which spread to the other two as they noticed it. You suddenly felt very much like small trapped prey locked in a closed space with the four giant men.

Before you could think, Killer was firming his grasp on the thigh closest to him, and Heat was grabbing the other, both of them working in tandem to spread you wide. Kid poignantly turned sideways in his seat to watch, and Wire adjusted the rear view mirror so it was pointed directly at you. You could see his cold, amused eyes as Killer's hand ran up your thigh to your center.

“Naughty girl,” he laughed, “she's got no fucking panties on”

“Fuckin’ slut,” Kid laughed, “let's see that pussy then”

Killer pulled up your skirt and held your leg in his lap, as did Heat, your pussy on full display for all four men. You bit your hand as Killer ran a finger through your cunt, gathering up the slick that was quickly pooling there. He dipped his middle finger inside you, making you whine, and you heard Wire laugh.

“She's so wet already,” Killer mused, “you like this baby? Want me to make you squirt right here in front of everyone?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered as he added another finger and pumped you slowly. Heat's hand ran up and down your leg, stopping occasionally to rub your foot. Killer removed his fingers for a moment and reached under the seat in front of him, pulling a beach towel that must have been unused from earlier.

“Lift your ass sweetheart,” he cooed as he unbuckled your seatbelt. You lifted obediently and he put the towel underneath you before returning to his previous position and pushing his fingers back inside you. You let out a shakey moan as he started finger fucking you, your head resting against the back of the seat while you panted. All of the men were watching you hungrily, and Wire cursed having to pay any attention to the road. He considered pulling over, but they'd be back at camp in another ten minutes and then he could have all the fun he wanted with you.

“Your pussy is sucking me in, so greedy,” Killer purred, running his tongue up your barred neck and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “Was your mission successful sweetheart? Did you fuck all four of us? It's been, what, forty eight hours? How many times has this greedy little pussy taken our cocks?”

“F-five,” you moaned, “and Wire fucked my ass”

“Fuckkk she really is a slut,” Kid laughed, “give us the rundown doll, I wanna hear how you let us use that tight body”

“F-first Kil fucked me in the kitchen,” you moaned, struggling to form words while Killer finger fucked you, his thumb rolling circles on your clit while Heat touched your legs and breasts. “He- fuck- he ate me out, then he fucked me with a popsicle, then he bent me over the counter and fucked me and sprayed his cum on my back”

“With a popsicle huh?” Wire hummed, “and you barely even knew us, nasty little slut. Go on then, who fucked you next?”

Kid was palming himself through his pants as you continued speaking, the wet sloppy sounds of your pussy echoing in the car cabin. “Next morning Kil took me in the shower, fucked me from behind then I blew him and he came on my face”

“So pretty covered in my cum,” Killer hummed, nipping your neck.

“Then- then Kid fucked me in the spa,” you continued, letting out a long moan as Killer bit down on your neck and marked you, having to catch your breath before you could continue, “he fucked my- my little slut throat- and came down it, then he ate me out till I squirted, then he bent me over and fingered my ass while he fucked me till he blew his load inside me”

“Fuck yeah I did,” he grinned, “filled that pussy good”

“Then- hnng- then Heat fucked me by the bonfire,” you had to take a moment to pant, you were getting close and Killer took note, removing his fingers to edge you. You whined and Kid enjoyed getting a straight view into your gaping pussy. Killer let you calm before returning his fingers. “Killll~” you whined.

“You can cum when you finish telling us how we all fucked you,” he explained, “keep going baby”

“H-Heat let me ride his face,” you moaned, “I squirted on it- hnng- he laid me down and worshipped my body and called me Goddess, hnnng Kil please let me cum”

“Not till you're done,” he scorned, removing his fingers again and giving your pussy a wet sounding slap that made you buck, “Keep. Going”

“Fuck- hnng- he- he ate me out more, then he fucked me till I squirted on his cock, then he came on my stomach,” you continued, “I took him to my bed and the next day I woke up to him eating me out, fuck, it was so fucking hot. He fucked me again and creamed inside me”

“Good girl,” Killer hummed, “that was this morning, now tell us what you let Wire do while we were off at the beach”

“He fucked me on the summit,” you whined, Killer's fingers moving at a painfully slow speed, your orgasm teetering right on the edge, you were desperate to cum, “he spanked me c-cos I'm a greedy little brat w-who needed to learn a lesson, then he fucked my throat and came down it, then he made me get on all fours and made me squirt while he fingered my ass - hnnnnnng Killlllll~ - then he fucked my ass till I couldn't walk, fuck, please let me cum, please”

“Good girl,” Killer returned three fingers to your pussy and his thumb to your clit, working you furiously, “go on sweetheart, you've been so good”

The wet sloppy sounds your pussy was making as he finger fucked you and your loud whines and moans were music to their ears, and you shook hard as you came, squirting on Killer's hand, your pussy making impossibly sloppy, pornographic sounds while your whole body tensed and your eyes rolled back. You went limp immediately, panting hard while your hips gave the occasional roll from an aftershock.

“Heat, clean her up,” Wire ordered. Heat undid his seatbelt, grabbed both of your legs and spun you so your legs were either side of his shoulders, ass hovering in the air, and your head in Killer's lap. You moaned and shook as he lapped hungrily at your overstimulated cunt, licking up all of your honey, plunging his tongue deep inside you and running it up your wet thighs. It was just as well the car windows were tinted as the ute pulled into the camp carpark, your thighs either side of Heat's face and your knees against the window behind him.

“Wire, stop here a second, I've got an idea,” Kid said quickly. You barely took notice of him leaving and running to the camp shop while Heat was eating you out, and Wire turned to pull your dress further up and your bra down, so your tits were exposed and being pushed up by the bra. He tugged on your nipples and gave them slight twists before smacking them, making you buck into Heat's face. Heat in turn whined against your cunt, the vibrations making you reply with your own whine. Kid returned to the car and Wire turned back to the steering wheel, continuing the drive back to the tents. Kid held a familiar key with a white tag, spinning it around his index finger.

“Got us somewhere to have some fun,” he smirked, “the shop's shutting soon so I paid extra to return the key tomorrow”

“Good thinking,” Wire mused, “we'll need some space. She was curious about my bag of toys”

“Heat!!!!” you suddenly cried out, your whole body convulsing, head digging into Killer's thighs as you gushed against Heat's face, panting hard as he released your legs and let you slide down so your ass was in his lap. His face was dripping with your cum and he licked his lips and smirked, his hands running all over your body.

“Good boy Heat,” Wire hummed, “I'm gonna have to give you a reward later”

You could feel Heat's dick twitch under your ass as he let out a low whine at the promise. The car came into park outside the tents and Killer helped you sit up and right your clothes, and Heat opened the door behind him so he could back out and pull you with him. He cradled you easily against him, your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist while he carried you around and the others gathered what they needed. Bags and towels in hand, Kid led the convoy to the spa buildings, Heat carrying you the whole way while you languidly licked and sucked on his neck, still dazed from your two impossibly hard orgasms.

Kid unlocked one of the spa rooms and held the door open for everyone else, Heat carrying you in and placing you on the wooden decking that surrounded the tub, which was just the right height for Heat's erection to press against your core. The two of you made out aggressively while the others settled in, Kid and Killer stripping and sliding into the tub, standing behind you on either side to undress you and grope you, forcing Heat away for a moment to pull your dress over your head. They each licked and kissed and touched whatever they could, making you moan into Heat's mouth and roll your hips against him, your legs still wrapped around him to pin him to you. Wire was busy pulling things out of his toy bag, and once satisfied with his choices he removed his shirt and shoes. Heat whined as Wire grabbed his hair hard and pulled him off you with significant force. You pouted, but his mouth was quickly replaced by the men behind you who took turns turning your head to force their tongue in your mouth.

“Settle in, sweetheart,” Wire smirked at you, holding Heat by his hair, head forced back while Wire's hand wrapped around his tattooed neck, “if I go too far for your comfort, use the colours, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Rest assured though that I know Heat's limits well. I'll go easy on him for your sake though”

Kid and Killer pulled you backwards into the spa, settling you in Kid's lap, Killer's hand on the thigh that Kid's hand wasn't already on. “Warm my cock will you babe?” Kid whispered in your ear. You lifted yourself and sunk down on his cock, whining at the stretch. He made no move to thrust into you, and held you still with a strong arm around your waist to keep you from using him to get off.

Heat was forced to lean against the decking, his palms flat against it, looking you in the eye as Wire stripped his clothes from him indignantly. He took the piece of leather you'd seen earlier, running it over the curve of Heat's ass, before pulling his arm back and smacking it with a crack that echoed through the small, round room. Heat's eyes remained focused on you, but he let out a pleasured whimper. Kid grinned as you pussy clenched around him at the sound.

“Little slut liked that,” Kid smirked, “felt her pussy squeeze”

Wire grinned and smacked Heat's ass again, the tattooed man's focus faltering as he whined. Once again your pussy squeezed, and this time Kid made a groan of his own. After a series of ten hits, Heat's ass was bright red and bleeding slightly from broken blood vessels, but his cock was impressively swollen and hard.

“You gonna be good for me, pup?” Wire growled in Heat's ear, pulling his hair again.

“Yes master,” he replied in a well-practiced routine. Wire pulled him to stand upright, Heat now standing exposed and naked in the middle of the room while Wire grabbed ropes. He lazily tied a harness around Heat's torso that squeezed his already massive pecs, before pulling his arms behind his back and binding his forearms together. Wire made sure you had the best view the whole time, and you were transfixed by the skilled way he pulled and knotted ropes to make a beautiful, symmetrical harness. It was clear to you that Wire was an experienced hard dom, and by the other things laid out which included the muscle soothing balm and scissors for emergencies, you knew he knew what he was doing and that everyone was safe in this situation.

It was strangely calming yet erotic to watch him bind Heat. You'd been a rope bunny before but you'd never seen another man tied up, it was fascinating to watch the way Heat's dick would occasionally twitch, the way his eyes would close and his brows would furrow when Wire ran a soothing hand over his skin as he worked. He finished the harness, then he took a strip of leather and bundled Heat's hair up in a messy ponytail, securing it with the leather to keep it out of the way. You bit your lip, fuck Heat looked good like that. Naked, muscular, tattooed, his blue dreads in a ponytail, his torso bound in tight black ropes, his pierced cock hard and red with need.

As soon as he was done, Wire kicked the back of Heat's knees and used the back of the harness to guide him down so he wouldn't fall too hard. He walked to Heat's front, wrapping a hand around his neck, the thumb coming up to trace his lips. Heat chased it with his mouth, moaning as Wire slipped it in. He swapped to his middle and index, letting Heat suck on his fingers before he pulled his hair with his free hand and started to essentially finger fuck Heat's mouth. The tattooed man gagged on the long fingers, spit pouring from the corners of his mouth and dripping down his neck. Wire pried his mouth open and spat a fat glob into it, and Heat made a low whine, his dick visibly twitching as his jaw was forced shut again and he swallowed.

“Such a good dog,” Wire mused, “our dear [y/n] almost managed to swallow all of me, why don't you show her how it's done pup?”

“Wire?” You asked shyly.

“Yes sweetheart?” He turned his attention to you as he unfastened his pants and stroked his cock a few times.

“Don't waste any cum,” you smirked, “I want it all”

“In you or on you?” He asked, idly smacking Heat's face with his fat cock. Heat gave it kitten licks whenever it was close enough.

“On me, I wanna be drenched,” you replied with a lustful smile.

“Your wish is my command princess,” Wire grinned back, “be ready to hop out of the tub and come kneel when I tell you”

“Yes sir,” you smiled, leaning back against Kid, giving your hips a quick swivel to keep him semi-hard inside you.

“Open up pup,” Wire ordered. The second Heat's mouth opened, Wire's hands were in his hair, shoving his cock deep down Heat's throat. Heat gagged and his eyes watered, but he looked up at Wire with earnest as he was skull fucked. You were thoroughly impressed by how well he could take Wire's cock, a little jealous even. You found yourself idly rolling your hips on Kid's now fully erect cock, watching intently as Wire's dick disappeared in Heat's mouth, the bulge that moved in his throat, the drool and tears that ran down his cheeks and neck. Killer had one hand on your thigh, groping and rubbing it, his other hand languidly jerking himself off. You replaced his hand with your own, and he groaned and rested his head against the back of the tub as you resumed the languid pace he'd been using.

Every now and then Heat would be allowed air, though it usually came with a slap to the side of his face and a thumb prying his jaw back open. Wire's head was thrown back as he fucked Heat's mouth, groaning as he got close to cumming. “Princess, knees, now,” he ordered.

Kid and Killer helped lift you over the side of the tub and you quickly knelt, water dripping from your body and forming a puddle under you, your hand running between your legs and rubbing your clit. Wire pulled out of Heat, throwing him back a little, before grabbing your hair and jerking himself off over you. You ran your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock, tasting Heat's saliva, and a few moments later hot threads of cum were spilling out over your tongue and face, making you shudder with pleasure as the viscous fluid dripped. You gave it a small lick, but you didn't want to clean too much, just a taste.

“Thank you sir,” you smiled up at him. He gave you a playful slap to the side of your face before pulling Heat up to his knees.

“I think Heat deserves a reward, don't you?” Wire asked. You nodded and held out your tongue invitingly. You expected Wire to bring Heat close enough for you to blow him, but instead he pulled him in front of you, stood behind him, and started jerking him off. The pace Wire set was brutal, at the same time biting and sucking on Heat's neck, pulling and twisting his nipples and giving them hard slaps till the bound pecs were red and swollen. Heat was bucking into Wire's hand, letting out low whines and resting his head back against Wire's shoulder.

Kid and Killer had gotten out of the tub, sitting at the edge of the decking and continuing to languidly jerk themselves off, biding their time till they could have their turn playing with you. You were such a pretty picture, on your knees, fingering yourself, Wire's cum coating your face and spa water dripping down your body, your tongue lolled out, inviting Heat to frost you. They couldn't wait to see you dripping with their loads too.

Unable to restrain yourself, you crawled forward and took the end of Heat's cock in your mouth, sucking on it and running your tongue over the end, tasting his salty precum. He let out a long moan and Wire pulled him away just in time for Heat's cum to spurt violently over your face and chest, and you shuddered as the lewd notion of being covered in more than one man's cum put you over the edge and you clenched around your own fingers. You rubbed your face against Heat's cock, wiping the last drops of his cum onto your cheek so none would be wasted, giving him one last kitten lick as a thank you.

Wire ran his hand soothingly over Heat's stomach, holding him softer now. “Good pup, you did so good,” he looked to Kid and Killer as he started untying Heat's ropes, “your turn, I'm gonna take care of Heat, I better hear her screaming by the time I'm done”

Killer wasted no time in hooking his hands under your armpits and pulling you to your feet. “You want her mouth or cunt?” He asked Kid, wrapping his arms around your waist and walking you forward, his erection hard against your back.

“Mouth,” Kid replied, “I wanna see her cry while I fuck her throat”

Kid slid off the decking but leaned against it as Killer pushed your head down, forcing it towards the redheads cock as his other hand lined his cock up with your needy hole. Kid's hand wound tight in your hair and pulled you to his proud erection, and you gave it a few licks before taking it in your mouth, tasting the spa water and your own pussy on it. You put your hands either side of him against the decking for support as Killer sheathed himself in one fluid motion, forcing you deeper onto Kid's cock. You gagged and looked up at Kid, your eyes already watering as your lips stretched to their limit around the impressive girth.

Killer was ruthless as he fucked you, Kid holding your hair tight and matching his pace. Killer grabbed your arms and pinned them to your back, holding them with his large hands to keep you upright, additionally supported by Kid's hand in your hair as they fucked you hard from each side. After edging themselves while they watched Heat and Wire's show, they didn't need long to hit their peaks, and they both came with a groan. First Kid who pulled your mouth of him with a pop and dripped heavy globs of thick cum over your face, followed by Killer who coated your back with a violent spray of cum, with what seemed like an impossible amount of spurts.

Killer pulled you back to your feet and gave you a hard kiss, entirely unbothered by the cum all over your face, before urging you back to your knees. This time Wire had folded a towel, and placed it under your knees to protect them from the cement floor. Ready to go again, Heat and Wire practically presented you with their cocks, and you took one in each hand, alternating between which one you eagerly sucked on. Killer knelt behind you and bullied three fingers in your cunt, his other hand coming around your front and playing with your clit. At some point Kid regained his energy and stood over you as well, so now you had three cocks to alternate between, using your hands for two and your mouth for the other.

Killer was working hard on making you cum, but when he slipped a thumb in your ass you couldn't hold back any longer, and the splashes of your heavy squirting were audible to the whole room, the towel barely catching any of it and a good amount dripping down your thighs and making you shudder from the ticklish sensation. Killer cooed praises in your ear before pushing you further onto Wire's dick and standing to join the circle. Now you had issues, but the boys were patient as you alternated between them, rotating around you so you wouldn't have to twist too far to get a cock in your mouth.

Heat was the first to cum, quickly pulling your hand from his cock and kneeling behind you, cumming over your ass with a deep whine. Kid was next, pulling you off Killer's cock so he could force his in your mouth, making a few last thrusts before pulling out and painting your tits white. Kid's cum was so fucking thick, and there was so much of it, not a surprise considering the impressive size of his balls. He slapped your face with his softening cock before leaving you to Wire and Killer.

Wire was next, you'd been taking as much of his cock as you could, and he was impressed with how well you were doing, you'd clearly had a new determination set in you after watching Heat take him. He added to the mass of cum coating your face, running the tip against your throat to wipe off the last drops. He gave your cum covered tits a smack before forcing your face towards Killer.

Killer was long but far less girthy than the others, which made him easier to deep throat, and he cooed praises the whole time while he thrust into you before pulling out, taking a step back, and letting out another wide spray of cum. It splashed over your entire face and torso, you counted fourteen impressive spurts in total, and he left you absolutely drenched in cum. His thumb threaded in your mouth as he panted, and you sucked and licked it, looking up at him with a half lidded gaze and cum dripping from your chin.

Deciding he wasn't quite done yet, Heat knelt behind you, pushed your front down, and penetrated you with a hard thrust. He fucked you with a merciless pace you didn't think he was capable of that had you screaming and clawing at the cement floor. It didn't take long before your body was shaking and your eyes were rolling back, letting out a long, deep groan that reverberated through your chest as you saw stars. Heat made his finally erratic thrusts and came on your ass again, cum transfering to his front as he leaned forward against you to pant.

Wire knelt in front of you and gently took your chin in his hand, and you have him a fucked out smile. “All done, sweetheart?” He asked. All you could do was blearily nod back at him.

The four men took turns cleaning and massaging every inch of your body, wiping away all the cum, making sure your muscles weren't wound tight and that you were unhurt, and lifting you into the tub to sit in Killer's lap. You almost fell asleep while Killer rubbed your shoulders and Heat rubbed your feet, Kid and Wire sitting in the tub with their heads lolled back and their eyes closed.

“Fuck I'm gonna miss this,” you sighed.

“You could always just tell us where you're from, we could come visit,” Killer suggested.

“Not happening babe,” you replied with a yawn, “but if you ever see me on the street we'll call it fate and I'm all yours”

“Well, here's to fate then,” he replied hopefully.

Three months had passed since your camping trip. You'd ended up giving Heat your number, you were definitely the sweetest on him, and every now and then you'd exchange nudes. You kept it casual though and never exchanged locations.

Winter was well and truly settling in as you made your way to your local coffee shop, shivering as you entered, the little bell above the door ringing as it opened and shut. You were waiting in line to order, it was semi busy since it was a weekend, when you heard a familiar voice that sent a shiver through you, their face close enough to feel their breath on the back of your neck.

“Hey princess,” the sultry baritone purred. Your knees almost gave out as you turned and saw Killer, the other three boys right behind him. They gave you hungry grins, and you had the distinct feeling you wouldn't be walking straight tomorrow.

A/N: Thanks for all the love on this little mini series, I had a lot of fun writing it ❤ Hope yall like the ending hehe

[sorchathered]

His favorite girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x female reader

Summary- Rhett has always had you by his side and never thought of you as anything other than platonic, that is until someone else takes notice and he spirals as he realizes maybe it’s not as platonic as he thought.

Warnings- language, drinking, Rhett being stupid

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Rhett wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

But when you’d gotten asked out by one of the bull riders traveling for the circuit it had definitely made him feel a certain way. You’d been his best friend since junior high, the two of you started out on the rodeo circuit barrel racing and he’d always seen you as one of the boys. You’d dated over the years of course, but he’d never found any of them threatening, they never seemed to last long anyways. They weren’t worth your time and you weren’t the type to suffer fools so off they went before they Rhett even had a chance to really memorize their names. That worked just fine for him, he preferred his best girl over most people and hated to share. But he totally wasn’t into you, absolutely not, it was strictly platonic. Until it wasn’t.

He had done shitty on his last ride, and to add insult to injury instead of finding you waiting by the trailers you were leaned over the bars of the fence, hair falling out of your tight ponytail and body arched out with your ass on display in your tight Levi’s. Eyes sparkling as you laughed at what the generic looking bull rider was bullshitting your way, normally that shit didn’t work on you at all but this guy had you totally wrapped. You were flirting, pretty shamelessly and for some reason it brought a sour feeling up in Rhett’s throat and a sharp tug in his chest. He had this overwhelming need to knock this guy on his ass, fists clenched as he watched you hand over your phone to get his number.

You finally sauntered your way back over to where Rhett was leaned up against the medic trailer, eyebrow raised as you took in his surly expression. “Who pissed in your cornflakes Abbott? That last run wasn’t as bad as you think it was, let’s go get your grouchy ass a beer mkay?” You said with a grin as you pulled on his elbow and he was damn near powerless to keep up the act, you always seemed to pull him right out of his bad mood and pretty soon he’d forgotten what he was so pissed about in the first place.

Later that night at the pit bar he had once again gotten in over his head, flirting with his high school crush right in front of you after Perry suggested he get off his ass and shoot his shot. In his defense the guy from earlier had showed up at the bar and was turning you across the floor, that uncomfortable feeling settling in his bones as he tried to drown it out with tequila. Then to make matters worse he got into it with Trevor, and somehow lost Perry in the process. When he stalked back through the bar he was already a live wire, and seeing you pressed up against whatever in the hell his name was didn’t help either.

“If yer done eye fucking walk away Joe over here it’s time to go y/n, I ain’t got time to piss around tonight.” He said with his arms across his chest as he leaned into the booth you were sat in, and he knew the second it left his mouth he’d fucked up, the heat in your cheeks and fire in your eyes when you snapped your head towards him was enough to burn the whole bar down. “I’m sorry- what did you just say to me?” You snapped and he knew better than to say anything else, just threw his hands up and spun on his heel for the door. You’d either come home with him or find your own way, he just hoped it wouldn’t end with anyone in your bed. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never given a shit about who you were seeing before, and he’d almost had a shot with Maria tonight, that was something he should’ve been putting effort into, not worrying about you fucking some random on a Sunday night. But it wouldn’t leave his head, and that ugly feeling kept tugging on his chest as he made his way to the truck, making it to the door before he heard the bar door fly open again, you in hot pursuit.

“What is your goddamn problem?!” You said as you pushed him up against the truck door, and he put his hands up ready for you to swing on him, it wouldn’t hurt but it certainly wouldn’t be his idea of a good time. “Are you so miserable that you can’t let anyone else be happy? I know you were pissed about the scores tonight but you have no right to talk to me that way and you fuckin’ know it.” You were vibrating with anger, rage bubbling up in you and all he could think of was his hands on your body.

It was like his dick was driving the car and his brain was asleep, he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he reached forward to yank you into his arms, spinning you to press against the truck door as he captured your lips with his. He knew it was wrong, he should’ve asked if he could kiss you first but you didn’t stop him, soft hands winding into the long hair at the nape of his neck and when you gasped he couldn’t stop himself from sliding his tongue into your mouth and licking into you. It was so good, molten heat pouring from you both as he pressed his thigh between your legs and watched as you pulled back with a moan, eyes glazed over as you blinked up at him, both of you shocked at what your bodies were doing.

“Shit, y/n do ya want me to stop? I can’t think like this- fuck you feel too good” he breathed out into the cold night and watched as you seemed to mull it over in your pretty head. Your head thunked back against the truck window as you continued to try and catch your breath, chest pressed so close to his he could feel your heart beating.

“Took you long enough”, you said with a grin as you pulled his mouth back down to yours, and suddenly it was all clicking into place for him. He’d felt this way for so much longer than he’d let himself admit, using buckle bunnies and his doomed crush on Maria as an excuse to keep him from admitting the truth. “Couldn’t stand it, that guy hand his hands all over ya and all I wanted to do was knock him out” he said with a hiss as you kissed down his jaw and nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Jealous is a good look on you, if I had known that’s all it took I would’ve tried it sooner” you peered up at him with mirth and giggled, he couldn’t quite see how you knew all along but if it got him here with you it didn’t much matter, you’d been so patient with him and he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“Gonna let me take you home sweet thing? I think we have some lost time to make up for.” He was desperate to have you in all the ways he’d only dreamed of, and he could tell you felt the same, neither of you could keep your hands off of each other any more and it was getting a little too heated for the dingy honky tonk parking lot.

“I’m all yours Rhett, always have been.”

He was quick to toss you over his shoulder and plop you into the passenger seat of the truck, looking over his shoulder as he caught the out of towner that had been hoping to take you home lighting up a cigarette outside. He grinned wide and with a wink nodded in the man’s direction, watching his irritation bubble up and huffed out a laugh. No one was taking you home but him ever again if he had anything to say about it, he’d tell your kids someday about how he nearly fumbled the most amazing woman because of his hubris and thank God every day for your patience with his stubborn ass. You’d been his from the very beginning, his favorite girl and love of his life.

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[cosmal]

wrapping paper — send me in a character + and au (and a prompt!) and i’ll write you a blurb! eg. bartender!eddie, firefighter!james.

um firefighter!james would definitely make stupid jokes about you being hotter than all the fires he’s had to put out. like he comes home and ur in his boxers and a tank top and he’s like wheww back to work ig 🧯🧯🧯

on fire

summary james is a nusiance when he comes home from work.

content firefighter!jamespotter x fem!afab!reader

note mal...........

James gets home and throws his duffle into the laundry before you can see the massive stain it's earned from his open Powerade. He can hear you singing, he thinks that's more important than washing his shit.

He follows the sweet lilt of your voice to the sitting room, all high and pretty, and a little puffed out. You turn with a cute jump and James tries not to stare at your thighs - or your boobs or tummy. Anything that bounces enough to make him feel dizzy. He's not always a total pervert when it comes to you.

You catch him and you beam. He doesn't spook you with his quiet entrance and James likes that a lot more than he thinks he should. You look absolutely pleased to see him, giddy smile and sparkling eyes. James doesn't expect you to catch him if he passes out at the sight of you so he sits himself down on your sofa, content with watching you dance.

You keep your earphones in, the wire going crazy as you bounce. A pair of his boxers that he knows you love, and a tank top that rides up your back as you move to show him more skin than he thinks he deserves.

The song comes to an end and you rip out your earphones and throw your phone to the couch, puffing with giddiness. "Hey, Jamie," you chirp, moving to stand between his open legs. He reaches behind you to squeeze at your thighs, soft skin under his calloused, heavy hands.

"Christ," he murmurs quietly. He feels just as out of breath as you do. "Shit, baby, grab your phone quickly."

You don't reach for It, just giggle. "What, why?"

"I need to call the boys," he pants like he's actually flustered. "Need to tell them there's a fire. That my girlfriend's so hot, she's on fire."

You fall into him, legs parted over his lap and tell him to shut up. He doesn't, obviously. He's not going to when you're laughing like that

He pulls his hand up to his ear like a phone. "Mark, shit, you better get over here. This might be the hottest we've seen."

You hit him in the chest with less heat than he's expecting, hiding yourself in his neck. "Stop," you murmur into his skin. "James, stop it."

"Babe, you're burning up," he says, squeezing at your sides until you squirm. You keep yourself hidden much to his displeasure. He wants to hold your face in his hands.

"You're awful," you sigh, melting like a puddle in his lap. Thighs flattened out like cake batter in a pan. You make the prettiest sound like a hiccup against his ear and James thinks he actually doesn't want you to sit up.

"I know," he laughs. James is selfish when he pushes his hands under the tank top you can barely classify as one. He's not one to complain, every slip of skin he catches he feels worse than he acts.

There's a beat of silence before you get more comfortable. "How was work, baby?"

James tucks his chin over your shoulder and turns to kiss the skin behind your ear. "It was good. Long."

"Poor baby," you say and he wishes you wouldn't. He shivers. "Were you safe?"

Of course, he was. He's always safe. For you. "Yeah."

"Good."

He kisses you once more and hisses like he's been burnt. "Looks like I've come right home to the danger anyways."

You lift yourself from your lap, a hint of reluctance in your sluggish movements. "Right, you're done."

"No," he reaches out to grab at you and almost catches your wrist, "baby, come back!"

You walk out to your bathroom and he feels defeated before he hears. "So, are you coming?"

James has never leapt to his feet quicker. "Of course!" he calls back. "Gotta put out the fire somehow."

[undertheopensky]

Forging Tired

Whumptober Day 26: Working To Exhaustion

Characters: Four, Blue, Sky

Trigger warnings: None

Read on Ao3!

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Sky doesn’t realise it until after dinner, but Four hasn’t banked the forge fires.

“I’m not done yet,” Four waves at the admittedly intimidating pile of repair work yet to be done. A couple of plates from Time’s armour probably need to be replaced entirely, they have such large holes in them.

“It’s getting real late. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Body’s not tired.” Four flexes one arm and gives him a grin that looks so much like Wind Sky’s eyes cross.

“Maybe not,” they sure hadn’t done much physical stuff today, just run around the village resupplying and gathering information, “but your brain still needs rest.”

This time Four snorts. “The brain is fast asleep, but that’s okay, we don’t need it for this.”

No one asks any more why Four sometimes refers to himself in the third person or plural. At best, he’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, and at worst, he’ll look at you like you’re the strange one. The closest they’ve gotten to an explanation is an offhanded, sympathetic “Yeah, we get it,” when Time first told them to stop asking about his timekeeping, because it was a holdover from a quest too traumatic to describe.

So, slightly weird, probably a Quest Thing, doesn’t seem to affect him day-to-day.

That said Sky’s a little concerned about him working with hot metal with his brain asleep.

“Are you sure? We can wait another day or two before setting out, I’m sure Time won’t mind. We don’t want you exhausting yourself over this.”

Four makes a rude noise, which is out of character enough Sky blinks. “I think I know my limits well enough, featherhead. Besides, forging’s not that hard. I wanna take advantage of actually having all my damn equipment for once, and goddess knows we probably won’t be here long. Our shit needs a lot of maintenance done. Don’t worry about the noise. The forge’s been soundproofed since we were little. Go away and sleep, featherhead, you need it more than us.”

He shoos Sky from the forge, polite but implacably firm.

Sky can’t exactly argue. Four is the smith here, and he knows himself best. If he says it’s fine, Sky will just have to believe him.

And as promised, as soon as the heavy door swings closed, the sounds of the forge muffle to almost nothing.

---

With Sky finally gone, Blue feels the tension ease out of him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He loves his brothers, and he supposes the heroes they’re travelling with aren’t TOO bad, but sometimes he just needs time alone in the quiet with his own thoughts and his own projects. There’s not a lot of privacy on the open road, or in a head crammed full of four distinct people.

Vio struggles with it, too, Blue knows, as he sets up the next few pieces of metal to heat and shovels fresh coke into the fire. But unlike Blue, the nerd is soothed by late nights spent reading or taking the darkest hours of watch, where Blue needs to do things to calm the itch in his brain. Armour and weapons maintenance is great for that - but it’s not always quiet. And waking everyone up with his activities would very much defeat the point.

Then, once he’s got things set up, Blue sits down at the bench with pliers and wire.

The worst thing about Sky’s mail is that the links are an eighth of an inch larger than standard - than literally everyone else’s. Blue had had to make a winding rod specifically for his damn mail, and has to double check every time before starting repairs to make sure he’s pulling from the right patch of spares.

If he had more time, he’d just make him a mail shirt from normal links. Standardise them across the board, and improve Sky’s resistance to piercing claws. But he doesn’t - they don’t - and besides that when this is all over Sky will be going back to his home in the clouds with its stupid mail measurements and its barely-there monster attacks and he’ll have no use for the close-set rings of modern mail and they’ll never see him again -

The forge fires burn hot enough that Blue can pretend it’s the air making his eyes sting.

Mending mail is busywork, stuff to keep his hands occupied while he waits for things to heat. It needs doing, and if he does it here then he can rivet the rings shut properly instead of the temporary road fixes (shit he needs to check Twilight’s mail he knows he put in a patch at one point but doesn’t remember riveting it in, need to do that before they leave) but some things can only be done at the forge. Like the plates of steel he’s got resting to the side, waiting to be turned into a new piece of Time’s armour.

He should probably get started on that actually so Blue puts aside the mail and reaches for his tongs. A lot of this is just shaping, forming the metal to the exact dimensions and curvature of Time’s body, and then adding buckle straps and point anchors so it can actually be attached. This is the loud part, metal-on-metal ringing and echoing in the enclosed stone room and making his vision swim just a little. He has to pause to blink it away. Does his head actually hurt, or is it just more echoes from the hammer?

Doesn’t matter; he’s got work to do. Blue checks the first piece for fit and moves on to the second; best to get this heavy work done before he gets tired. Working the steel cold takes more effort, but makes it less brittle in the end. Kind of important, that the metal sheets guarding someone’s body don’t shatter under a stiff blow, turning them from a defense into a hazard. You can get away with working horseshoes and stuff like metal fittings hot and then quenching them down, but it’s not worth it with plate armour.

Once he’s got the base curve in place, he checks the lines he drew earlier before his vision started to wobble, then hunts down the blunted chisel he needs. This is the fiddly bit. Blue sets the metal down on the wooden block with the groove specifically for this task, lining it up with the drawn lines, and starts hammering out the ridges.

It’s time-consuming, but the raised metal redirects weapons to less vulnerable points. Blue’s seen a sword swing into an arm then slide off into empty air, instead of an armpit or elbow, because of these ridges. They’re useful.

Time didn’t have any, originally. And while he can’t say for sure - Blue suspects that if he’d had them on his armour that first time a moblin got the jump on him, its spear wouldn’t have slid past the plates into his side quite so easily.

Four’s been quietly upgrading it piece by piece ever since.

The vambrace is harder, more of a curve to force the steel into, but he’s long practised at getting stubborn materials to cooperate. Once it’s done, and added to the pile he’s making of Time’s shit, he pulls the pattern steel Red had spent all day folding and forge welding from the fire. Already the basic shape of it is there: the tapered tip, the length of the blade, the narrow throat and tang. Once it’s finished, it’ll be a dagger for Hyrule. His current one has been sharpened so many times it’s thin enough to use as a lockpick, and they want him to have something good-quality to replace it, something that will last him.

(Will last him beyond this time of portals and black blood, because getting new equipment in his time is so, so difficult and they never want him to go without ever again, and one knife isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but it’s something they can do, and they’ll do their goddess-damn best work on it for him.)

It still needs some more shaping before it’s ready to go under the whetstone, though, so Blue tucks it back in the fire and picks up Wind’s knife, the one with the loose hilt. How the sailor expects to get anything done when he has to hold his entire hand at right angles to keep the thing straight Blue doesn’t know. Apparently he’d been stuffing it with fabric scraps to stabilise it, which, great, now Blue has to dig them all out before he can decide if the hilt is at all salvageable.

It doesn’t help that his fingers are a little shaky. Shit. Maybe he needs a water break.

He sets the dubiously-fixable knife aside while he drinks. He doesn’t feel thirsty. Dry-eyed, maybe, and his throat aches from the forge air, but the water doesn’t really help. Still, hydration’s important.

A sudden clank makes Blue drop his cup, water scattering on the floor as he spins. The fire flares - oh. A coal had - split, or settled, and the still-dull blade of Hyrule’s dagger had shifted and struck the edge. It looks about ready to go again anyway, so Blue grabs it - with tongs! He’s not an idiot! - and starts hammering an edge into it.

As the blade flattens out and becomes more knife than bar of metal Blue takes care to bevel off both edges neatly. He flips it, to make sure he gets both sides, then flips it again to even it out. He wants the balance on this thing perfect, and if it takes a bit of fiddling, all the better. That way he knows it’s good. Blue holds it up, eyeing the straightness of the blade from the side, and then down the length of it, and nods to himself, moving to set it. Good. He’ll let it cool a little before heating it again, and -

Blue stumbles. The blade clangs down on the bench he’d meant to set it on gently, spinning away from the tongs and fortunately not hitting any part of him with the still red-hot metal. Fuck, he’d forgotten to pick up his cup. It’s a good thing it’s so hot in here that all the water evaporated off or he might have slipped. Fuck.

He checks the blade - fuck, he dinged it - puts it back in the fire, then picks up his cup to set it back beside the water barrel. The metal handle is painfully hot under his fingers. Although - he could do with more water. His eyes are stinging again.

Blue drinks, long and slow. The water tastes metallic, or maybe that’s just the forge air coating his tongue. It settles uneasily. Doesn’t matter - his stomach will get over it.

He fixes the dent made when he dropped the half-made dagger, hammering until metal fills the gap and then hammering it out even again to repair the edge. He also spends more time carefully squinting at it to make sure it’s still straight, so long that the metal goes dark and cold.

Then back in the fire it goes.

Blue gets back to mail repairs, working rings into place, then riveting them shut with scraps from broken links. He considers, as he works, if the long-handled riveting pliers could be made to fit into their tool pouch. They can’t bring along the whole forge, that would be silly, but this one thing? They already carry the cutting pliers to make links with so it’s not like they need anything else for the rivets, and it doesn’t need heat treatment -

He pinches a fingertip with the pliers and swears loudly, shaking it and resisting the urge to shove it in his mouth - his hands are covered in oil and coal dust. Squinting at it - no real damage - he shakes it one more time and picks up the mail patch he dropped. It stings a little, to apply enough pressure to hold the metal fabric. Actually -

Checking the dagger, he pulls it from the fire and rests it on the anvil to cool. This is always time consuming, heating and cooling the steel to normalise it before the final edge can be put on. Heat it, then cool it, then heat it again; all part of ensuring the blade isn’t brittle and will hold its shape and its edge for as long as possible. It’s familiar in a way so ingrained he can almost touch it, watching the metal change colour. Fading from yellow, through red, down to the still blisteringly-hot but normal appearance of steel.

Blue blinks, and finds himself sitting on his preferred stool, metal still cooling in his tongs. Shit. When did he sit down? He’s wasting time, here. Back in the fire, back to work, fingertip still throbbing faintly.

Half the plates on Time’s tassets got ripped off during the fight with the iron knuckle, which are fiddly and annoying but not hard to replace. Once he’s got them shaped and punched Blue is tempted to just hand the lot off to Time for the old man to stitch them in place. Teach him to get distracted watching Twilight’s sword form. Shit, there’s so many of them, too. Time’s lucky his leg was in few enough pieces that Hyrule and Warriors could put it back together.

Blue hammers out scale after scale. Get the curve right; adjust the tongs, hammer out the part they’d hidden; set the edge, set the ridge, set it aside, and grab the next one. He piles them up on the metal workbench; they’d be less annoying to work with if he could just pile them in a coal shovel and dunk them in the fire to soften them, but even if they’re small they’re still armour and he needs to keep them as supple as possible.

And speaking of it’s time to pull the dagger again. The tongs grab it, fumble it, dump it back in the coals, then grab it agin. Blue is very careful as he sets it on the bench. He has no desire to set his own boots alight. This is the last cooling phase, though, so he can let the forge fire die down. Finally. His eyes itch and ache in the hot, dry air. He’d rub them if he wasn’t - still - covered in forge leavings.

Punch the holes for Time’s tasset scales; set them in his pile to deal with in the morning. Finally get the hilt off Wind’s knife and decide it is salvageable, actually, if he glues in a wedge of cedar to fill in the split that was letting it get loose in the first place. How did Wind even do that? Rewrap it in leather strips and it’ll be done; another job for the morning. When his hands aren’t so shaky. He’s getting glue everywhere, ugh.

…does he need to pull the dagger again? No, wait, it’s already on the bench. Does it need to go back in the fire? …no, he already decided it was done. He reaches to grab it, half-intending to measure it up for the hilt and crossguard, but hesitates at the heat radiating off it. Right. Fresh from the forge. Doesn’t look hot, but definitely is. He’ll leave it for an hour or so.

Blue shakes himself, hard, feeling the pull of it in his neck and his forehead. His head aches, behind his eyes. There’s a fine grey fuzz at the edges of his vision. Right, with the forge fire dying, he needs a bit more light. Where’s Vio’s lantern…?

By the too-pale magical light, Blue works, and works, until there’s nothing left to do but wind more wire into chainmail rings and weave them into the cuts and gashes left by enemy claws and weapons, tamp down rivets and move to the next section until he needs to wind out more rings -

It’s endless and monotonous and he can feel the screaming under his skin finally starting to cool, as the fire burns itself out.

Something they do need, he thinks as he pulls out the temporary patch he’d put in Twilight’s mail tunic, is a store of fully-finished rings. Hammering out their linking points and punching rivet holes is best done on an anvil. Then, as long as they have a stock of scrap wire for rivets (inevitable, they’re constantly damaging mail), the cutters and the riveting pliers, they can do repairs that are just as strong as the original work itself. Once they run out of wire, well, that’s more of an issue. The drawing plate is much too heavy to bring along with them.

Blue seals up the last ring in Twilight’s mail and sets it aside, then hops off the stool to go in search of the metal rods he needs to make wire. He knows they left a whole stack of them somewhere.

In truth, most forging doesn’t require a lot of raw strength. The weight of the hammer and the drag of gravity does a lot of the work, and all you need to do is direct it. Blue’s got more muscle from wielding a warhammer, honestly. The exception, he thinks distastefully, is wire drawing. That does need some force, since you’re dragging a piece of metal through smaller and smaller holes, not stretching it so much as drawing it out longer and longer and thinner and thinner, and of course it’s metal, it doesn’t want to do that.

Blue finally finds the basket of rods on a low shelf behind a huge box of half-finished nails - Red’s doing, surely - and carries it to the draw plate. There’s certainly no moving the thing to anywhere else. It weighs more than he does at least twice over, solid iron plate set into a heavy stone base.

Choosing a rod, Blue hammers out a quick point, feeds it through a hole that’s just a little smaller than its current size, clamps it, and starts to pull.

His eyes burn. His head aches. His fingers sting, all the little places where slips and cuts and burns have piled up over long hours. Without his mind keeping track of eight timers at once, it’s free to focus on the physical, and oh, he feels so heavy -

Blue breathes deep, metal and coal dust and ash, and feeds the wire into the next hole.

---

Sky is unhappy but unsurprised to find the patch of floor allocated to Four empty.

Weak morning light streams through the curtains. It’s just enough to see by as Sky checks that Legend’s unmoving form on the bed is just due to stiffness and exhaustion, not something more worrying, and tiptoes around scattered bedrolls. Twilight cracks an eye as he’s stepped over.

“A’right there?” he checks, voice low.

Sky smiles. “Just seein’ who’s up.”

Twilight grunts and to all appearances goes straight back to sleep. For all he wakes with the dawn on the ranch, he does enjoy his sleep, when he can get it.

Sky empathises but he’s got a mission.

Through the shop windows he spots Wild outside, running through the carefully prescribed stretches that kept his scars limber. Once he was done with those, he’d be all up in Four’s kitchen, eager to make food more complex than could be managed over a simple campfire. Four even had an oven, which Wild had been very excited about.

Still, breakfast will come later. The forge door still stands closed, just as it had last night after Four kicked him out. Moving slow, Sky eases the heavy door open, hoping to find him passed out in a corner somewhere.

Instead Four is sitting upright at the workbench. The winding rod in his hands is familiar, though he’s moving far slower than usual, and his hands shake when he reaches for the pliers.

“Four, have you slept at all?” Sky asks, disappointed.

“Huh?” Four turns to look at him, and there’s a distinct pause before recognition flickers. “Oh, Sky. I’m nearly done with your mail. Or…” He squints at the links on the table. “No, mail’s finished. Spare rings. We’re always running out.”

“Sleep, Four,” Sky stresses. “Goddess - have you been working all night?” He eyes up the frankly ludicrous pile of mending that now sits on the other side of the bench from where it started, separated into neat piles by owner. And Four is still going - slowly cutting rings off the spiral, one by one.

“‘M fine.”

He changes tacks. “Four, c’mon. It’s time for breakfast. Wild will sulk if it gets cold, you know he will.”

Four blinks at him, visibly hazy with exhaustion, and finally, slowly, drags himself to his feet. He looks worse, upright. He’s pale and a little haggard, swaying slightly just standing in place. Goddess. He’s going to be an utter wreck today, and they’re supposed to head out for the Castor Wilds later. Maybe Sky can convince Time to wait until after lunch and Four will revive some after a nap -

The smith’s feet tangle. Sky lunges to catch him -

Four catches himself with a quick shake of the head. “Phew, close one,” he mutters. He brushes past Sky into the rest of the house, steps suddenly quick and sure. “C’mon, Sky,” he calls over his shoulder, “help me keep Wild from dirtying every pan I own, I do not want to do dishes today.”

He still looks distinctly unwell over breakfast, but the shake in his hands, the sway in his step, the dull slowness of his eyes and responses - all that is gone like it was never there. He even smiles and keeps up with the conversation. Sky doesn’t know what to make of it.

(In the back of his mind, though, he wonders.)