puppyrage

[puppyrage]

YEAHHHHHHH LETS GOOOOOOOO I LOVE A HAPPY ENDING

IF YOU LOVE ME HARDCORE, THEN DON’T WALK AWAY — final chapter 10. dreaming you when i’m alone

fic masterlist | player!vi x unbothered!reader

CONTENT: reconciliation. vi’s incessant flirting AND reader entertains it. serious talks. somewhat forgiveness. fluff.

TAGLIST: @youngtastemakerfart @daremna @baylegend6 @thewonderlandish @saturnhas82moons @babiedolllz @marieeeluvsyou @stormmie234 @ellieslosttwofingers @puppyrage @sevikas-whore @jivimatcha @elliesbabygirl @klallx @honeyylovee @dreamypinkprincessworld @ferxanda @asothinking @prettyinpink69 @lovediary222 @onyxherman @m3ta4r @soodle-noup @professionallunatic @7-ktr @wrappedinvines @rhian88 @onyxherman @fridayf1ghting @norwayromanoff @teaeeye @maxinesgun @furtherrawayy @vxtanne31 @salsalsusu @cloudy-fay @arahiraaai @mikellie @prwttiestbunny @morticeras @jupitism @sexlus @violetsrxse @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @modernvenuss @pen900

[puppyrage]

my wife writes about tit sucking and lottienat pregnancy so visit her page maybe @bloodyykitty :33

[puppyrage]

hi everyone! due to some feedback, i have extended this a little :3

now write lottienat but the roles are reversed. like lottie is a disbeliever. NOW.

oh i’ve got you, nonnie.

lottie observes her from across the firelight, eyes glued to the cat-eyed blonde like a critter in a snare trap. natalie’s lips move like she’s whispering to something in the trees— a promise to appease, to please—, eyes half-lidded and drunk on belief, or maybe that fermented berry wine. either way, it’s embarrassing. it should be. but lottie can’t bring herself to look away.

later, when the woods go still and the others are asleep or dead quiet, natalie pulls her in like an undertow. her hands are warm. reverent. she touches lottie like she’s something sacred, something ancient— an artifact meant to be treasured for generations to come. kisses her slow, like a ritual. because the wilderness favors the brunette, natalie has found. and what the wilderness gifts natalie, natalie will accept. such a devoted follower, isn’t she?

and lottie doesn’t believe in gods. especially not ones made of bark and bone and blood. but she believes in how natalie breathes against her skin; plush, rosy lips pressed to a tanned jugular. how her hands hold no tremor when they slip under her airy dress. how she somehow is familiar with exactly where to press, drag, curl. like those hands, hands that had previously rolled joints and burned cds, were crafted to mold to lottie’s being.

lottie so badly wants to laugh, to mock, to say this isn’t magic. but too little too late; her body breaks open for her. jaw slack, breath punched out of her lungs. her hand clenched in brown, overgrown roots like a vice. her thighs trembling, spread wide under worship she never asked for. but she’d never condemn a touch that is as righteous as god himself, if such an idea were to even exist.

natalie holds her through the aftershocks like she’s reciting scripture. murmurs into her throat. something soft. something dangerous.

“you’re helping, lot. makin’ the wilderness so happy. appeasement is a beautiful thing.”

lottie doesn’t believe in anything.

except maybe her.

and god, isn’t that worse?

𓏵

the woods don’t sleep. they breathe. groan. whisper through pine-needle teeth. somewhere, a branch snaps—far enough to be harmless, close enough to remind them they’re still prey under something else’s barrel.

but in the cabin— despite creaks, snores, and soft chatter in the midst of the night (something like a slumber party), lottie only hears natalie. her soft exhales, the lazy drag of her fingers over lottie’s hip like she’s tracing constellations she created. possession in the gentlest way.

lottie’s still trembling. barely. not from the cold.

natalie’s lips are at her scarred temple now, murmuring things again—nothing lottie can catch. nonsense or wooded scripture or maybe both. it doesn’t matter. it’s the cadence that matters. like a lullaby preternaturally meant for the bones and the weary soul of a girl named charlotte isobel matthews.

lottie blinks, slow. her chest aches. not in a bad way.

she feels akin to a pomegranate: carved open, raw in places she didn’t know she was hiding. like natalie didn’t just touch her physical vessel, but slipped her hands somewhere deeper. made a home in the hollow place inside her and decided not to leave.

“you feel it, don’t you?” natalie hums, mouth against her hairline. “the wilderness likes you now.”

lottie swallows. her throat’s dry. she doesn’t answer.

she’s afraid if she speaks, she’ll admit she likes it back.

but natalie waits. doesn’t rush. the wilderness always did reward her for her patience. she just presses closer, arm draped heavy and anchoring around lottie’s waist. voice softer this time, silk slipping through teeth.

“it always did. you were just too busy pretending you were above it.”

lottie turns, barely. enough to meet her eyes in the dark.

“i’m not pretending anything.”

natalie smiles. slow, knowing. eyes sharp enough to cut through bone and soul.

“no. not anymore.”

she kisses her then—low, lazy, all mouth and promise. and lottie doesn’t pull away. doesn’t flinch. instead, her eyelashes flutter, flutter shut, and her shoulders seem to relax significantly. she lets it happen. lets natalie pull her under again like tidewater. because maybe it’s not belief. maybe it’s surrender.

𓏵

the candle’s burned low, wick drowned in its own wax. outside, wind claws at the walls like it’s envious.

inside, lottie sits half-dressed on the edge of the cot, back to natalie. spine a straight line. jaw locked. like she’s bracing for something. natalie’s still sprawled out behind her, blanket tangled at her hips. she lights an unearthed cigarette with shaking hands.

“you’re running again,” natalie says, voice gravel-slick. “not physically, but i can hear it in your silence.” curse that lazy drawl, for it never ceased to make lottie’s heart flutter.

lottie exhales through her nose. shuts her eyes reluctantly. doesn’t turn around. “i’m not running. i’m thinking.”

“same thing, for you.”

the words hang between them, smoke curling around the rafters like ghost fingers. lottie’s fingers twitch on her bare knee.

“it’s not real,” lottie mutters. “whatever this is. it’s just—trauma bonding. hormones. whatever.” she gestured weakly with her hand. natalie snorts, that familiarly teasing curl of her lips returning. she leans forward, presses her chest to lottie’s back. her lips brush the shell of her ear.

“bullshit. i’ve had trauma. i’ve had sex. neither felt like this.”

lottie shivers. hates how fast her body answers to her.

“i don’t wanna believe in something i can’t control.”

natalie kisses her neck. slow. lethal.

“then don’t control it.”

“what if it breaks me?”

natalie bites. just a little. just enough.

“then i guess i’ll worship the pieces.”

[puppyrage]

she never ceases to make me feel better, i hope i can fulfill her

[puppyrage]

Reblog this with a celebrity that you share a birthday with in the tags

[puppyrage]

i want to wake up to paragraphs and multiple texts, i want to hear about what you did while i was gone. i want updates about a certain project you’re working on. tell me everything , i do care.

talk to me , please.

[puppyrage]

now write lottienat but the roles are reversed. like lottie is a disbeliever. NOW.

oh i’ve got you, nonnie.

lottie observes her from across the firelight, eyes glued to the cat-eyed blonde like a critter in a snare trap. natalie’s lips move like she’s whispering to something in the trees— a promise to appease, to please—, eyes half-lidded and drunk on belief, or maybe that fermented berry wine. either way, it’s embarrassing. it should be. but lottie can’t bring herself to look away.

later, when the woods go still and the others are asleep or dead quiet, natalie pulls her in like an undertow. her hands are warm. reverent. she touches lottie like she’s something sacred, something ancient— an artifact meant to be treasured for generations to come. kisses her slow, like a ritual. because the wilderness favors the brunette, natalie has found. and what the wilderness gifts natalie, natalie will accept. such a devoted follower, isn’t she?

and lottie doesn’t believe in gods. especially not ones made of bark and bone and blood. but she believes in how natalie breathes against her skin; plush, rosy lips pressed to a tanned jugular. how her hands hold no tremor when they slip under her airy dress. how she somehow is familiar with exactly where to press, drag, curl. like those hands, hands that had previously rolled joints and burned cds, were crafted to mold to lottie’s being.

lottie so badly wants to laugh, to mock, to say this isn’t magic. but too little too late; her body breaks open for her. jaw slack, breath punched out of her lungs. her hand clenched in brown, overgrown roots like a vice. her thighs trembling, spread wide under worship she never asked for. but she’d never condemn a touch that is as righteous as god himself, if such an idea were to even exist.

natalie holds her through the aftershocks like she’s reciting scripture. murmurs into her throat. something soft. something dangerous.

“you’re helping, lot. makin’ the wilderness so happy. appeasement is a beautiful thing.”

lottie doesn’t believe in anything.

except maybe her.

and god, isn’t that worse?

𓏵

the woods don’t sleep. they breathe. groan. whisper through pine-needle teeth. somewhere, a branch snaps—far enough to be harmless, close enough to remind them they’re still prey under something else’s barrel.

but in the cabin— despite creaks, snores, and soft chatter in the midst of the night (something like a slumber party), lottie only hears natalie. her soft exhales, the lazy drag of her fingers over lottie’s hip like she’s tracing constellations she created. possession in the gentlest way.

lottie’s still trembling. barely. not from the cold.

natalie’s lips are at her scarred temple now, murmuring things again—nothing lottie can catch. nonsense or wooded scripture or maybe both. it doesn’t matter. it’s the cadence that matters. like a lullaby preternaturally meant for the bones and the weary soul of a girl named charlotte isobel matthews.

lottie blinks, slow. her chest aches. not in a bad way.

she feels akin to a pomegranate: carved open, raw in places she didn’t know she was hiding. like natalie didn’t just touch her physical vessel, but slipped her hands somewhere deeper. made a home in the hollow place inside her and decided not to leave.

“you feel it, don’t you?” natalie hums, mouth against her hairline. “the wilderness likes you now.”

lottie swallows. her throat’s dry. she doesn’t answer.

she’s afraid if she speaks, she’ll admit she likes it back.

but natalie waits. doesn’t rush. the wilderness always did reward her for her patience. she just presses closer, arm draped heavy and anchoring around lottie’s waist. voice softer this time, silk slipping through teeth.

“it always did. you were just too busy pretending you were above it.”

lottie turns, barely. enough to meet her eyes in the dark.

“i’m not pretending anything.”

natalie smiles. slow, knowing. eyes sharp enough to cut through bone and soul.

“no. not anymore.”

she kisses her then—low, lazy, all mouth and promise. and lottie doesn’t pull away. doesn’t flinch. instead, her eyelashes flutter, flutter shut, and her shoulders seem to relax significantly. she lets it happen. lets natalie pull her under again like tidewater. because maybe it’s not belief. maybe it’s surrender.

𓏵

the candle’s burned low, wick drowned in its own wax. outside, wind claws at the walls like it’s envious.

inside, lottie sits half-dressed on the edge of the cot, back to natalie. spine a straight line. jaw locked. like she’s bracing for something. natalie’s still sprawled out behind her, blanket tangled at her hips. she lights an unearthed cigarette with shaking hands.

“you’re running again,” natalie says, voice gravel-slick. “not physically, but i can hear it in your silence.” curse that lazy drawl, for it never ceased to make lottie’s heart flutter.

lottie exhales through her nose. shuts her eyes reluctantly. doesn’t turn around. “i’m not running. i’m thinking.”

“same thing, for you.”

the words hang between them, smoke curling around the rafters like ghost fingers. lottie’s fingers twitch on her bare knee.

“it’s not real,” lottie mutters. “whatever this is. it’s just—trauma bonding. hormones. whatever.” she gestured weakly with her hand. natalie snorts, that familiarly teasing curl of her lips returning. she leans forward, presses her chest to lottie’s back. her lips brush the shell of her ear.

“bullshit. i’ve had trauma. i’ve had sex. neither felt like this.”

lottie shivers. hates how fast her body answers to her.

“i don’t wanna believe in something i can’t control.”

natalie kisses her neck. slow. lethal.

“then don’t control it.”

“what if it breaks me?”

natalie bites. just a little. just enough.

“then i guess i’ll worship the pieces.”

[puppyrage]

𐔌 . ⋮ welcome to : the kennel .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

… YJS .ᐟ .ᐟ

𐂯 .ᐟ⸝⸝ NAT’S VERSiON]—

⍀ strappin’ ‘er down (blurb)

⍀ heretic (short, lottienat)

𐂯 .ᐟ⸝⸝ LOTTiE’S VERSiON]—

⍀ heretic (short, lottienat)

… ARCANE .ᐟ .ᐟ

𐂯 .ᐟ⸝⸝ CAiT’S VERSiON] —

⍀ a piltie’s balcony (blurb)

WIP WIP WIP! 🐾

[puppyrage]

ཻ ﹑ ♥︎ ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ small drabbles of you warming up to lottie in the wilderness, a bond formed from a slow infatuation for her.

ཻ ﹑ 📝 ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ I’ve been working on this for awhile !! lots of bumps in the road due to my computer being silly .. as always, point out any mistakes I didn’t really double check :—)

lottie, who always seems weirdly calm when tensions are high and everyone else is constantly at each others throats, whenever fights usually break out between the team she slips away when she thinks no one is looking.

one day you finally catch up far enough to follow her and decide to see what she’s doing. lottie stands way too still when she’s by herself in the open pasture near the camp, trees surrounding her everywhere and arms loose by her sides like she's rooted into the earth.

you catch her eyes fixed on the trees, unmoving, like she’s waiting for something to answer back. for a split second you think that she can talk to the trees, like literally flail her arms around and move like one .. you rule it off as stupid, and you don’t dare bring it up.

after you’ve snuck away and the sun is about to set, you’re just about done with helping a group of girls cut up a stiff slab of meat for dinner. lottie calls you to pull you aside, the girls in your group staring at you with concern as lottie is unbothered, her eyes squinting at you while she looks you up and down, ever so slightly.

" hey, " lottie says. " have you been... following me around? “ she trails off.

you hesitate, racking your brain on what to say next. " .. define following. “ you say, trying to keep it light, joking almost, but your voice comes out a little shaky and awkward. she just stares at you, the silence between you two stretches out long enough to feel like a punishment.

finally, lottie speaks up, " you don’t have to spy. If you want to understand, just ask. “ you open your mouth to give a rebuttal and say you’re not interested, but it’s like she knows all too well and cuts you off.

but she tilts her head slightly at you and whispers. “ sneaking around is dangerous, don’t get caught. “

when you blink and try to process if what she just said to you was a threat or a friendly reminder, before you could ask her she’s already turned her back and walked off, as if she was never really there to begin with.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who always opts to walk behind you when you get teamed up for smaller missions. this was a reoccurring issue, but today you decided to bring it up to her since the both of you were put together to find small twigs to fuel the bonfire so there could be warmth for tonight’s feast, a simple task given by shauna. but you could never grasp why lottie was so persistent on going with you since she usually stayed at the camp during these missions.

“ hey, lottie. why are you always looming behind me?” you ask once, turning around to look at her, lotties very presence behind you made you feel extremely weary, you didn't trust her at all.

“ I'm watching your back, “ lottie stops in her tracks and answers without a second thought, It almost pisses you off cause of how rehearsed her response sounded.

“ i didn’t ask you to. “ you bite back, ignoring her as you continue to walk off. and of course, she’s still following behind you.

⠀⠀

lottie, who’s first instinct is to stand in front of you when there's a sudden noise in the woods near you. her arm out, pushing you behind her. you finally drop the being annoyed at lottie tough guy act and cling onto her arm for dear life. <3

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie who gives you things and tries to brush it off as her protecting you?? sometimes she just goes up to you, gives you a random flower or twig and says it’ll protect you, it’s a omen that the wilderness told her to gift to you. what does that mean? you’re not sure, it honestly sounds like she’s lying to you, but you keep it anyway, alongside your smaller stash of leaves and flowers she gave you right next to your makeshift bed inside your hut.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who offers you half her rations, doesn’t matter what the meal is, berries? she offers. meat? she offers that too. at first, you try to refuse everytime she gives you the food because you think she’s pitying you. she raises a brow and nudges the food toward you again.

“ you need to eat, “ lottie says, a heavy hint of concern in her eyes. " winter is coming soon, eat more. "

you almost fight her and tell her that you're fine and you ate enough for today, but then you look at her in the eyes, and realize that lottie literally looks like shes about to burst from sadness and she won’t let up this time, you take the meat with no further objections.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who you catch yourself defending while you’re talking in social circles during the afternoon. the topic had shifted multiple times, what you guys were gonna do when you got out, what kind of food you wanted .. how scary shauna was, melissa had alot to say about this topic, so you all let her talk. that was until she started talking bad about lottie.

“ … and then lottie, don’t even get me started on lottie! it’s like her and shauna work in cahoots to see who’s more fucked — “ melissa whispers to the group, you quickly cut into the conversation after this.

“ okay well, what if lottie wasn’t as bad as we portray her to be? I mean, sure, she’s crazy but there are motives for her madness. “ a strange silence follows for a quick minute as everyone turns to look at you. “ I mean– i think she has motives. “ you spit out in a rebuttal, trying to save yourself but immediately failing.

mari snickers from across the circle and she shakes her head, “ well, that’s only because you and lottie are like .. suspiciously good friends. “ mari laughs out, you almost felt like punching her then and there.

lottie, who you catch watching you more often than not. you don't think its scary, even though her staring does creep you out a bit. you think of it as a love language, like she’s trying to read you, or protect you from god knows what.

“ what? “ you ask one day, finally getting embarrassed enough from her gaze to speak up.

“ nothing, “ she says, smiling just a little “ you just look different today. ” lottie hums, you can’t tell if she’s being serious or if she’s trying to fool you. and with that, you blink slowly as you muster out a small “ interesting. ”, you don’t trust yourself to say anything else.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who confides in you after she learns something new. she’ll tell you if her newest experiment worked and she really thinks she’s onto something, like the trees are actually starting to speak in a language she understands, or if she wants you to help her with whatever she’s trying to do for the day. unfortunately for her, you don’t really feel like participating in her latest shenanigan this time after a ton of excuses, she understands.

sometimes, you just let her talk, you really like listening to her speak.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who always convinces you to spend time with her, it doesn’t matter if it’s sitting by the river and splashing eachother, indulging in her strange behavior, or doing the most boring of chores with her, like brushing the goats. you catch yourself having fun with her ever so often and you didn’t realize how close you’d become until you really pondered on it, the unfortunate outcome was pink cheeks, teasings from your friends and ignoring lottie for a day after the realization, though.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who was aware that you warmed up to her eventually, you both lay down on a comfortable pair of leaves near the camp, staring up at the stars in the same clear pasture lottie usually spends her time in.

“ I like you, lottie. “ you say, quietly, like you’re telling her your deepest, darkest, secret. “ I really like you. “

she doesn’t say anything for awhile until she decides to mutter out a small “ I know.” that makes you smile.

[puppyrage]

something’s in the works … coming in the next two weeks (?) if i’m not burnt out from writing :3 do we want this? if not, send me some reqs in my inbox!

[puppyrage]

probably cummed 3 times thanks natpreg hehehehehehehehe

summary: lottie and natalie finally can do IVF so natalie can get pregnant but she’s leaking milk pretty soon in the pregnancy.

cw: kind of pregnancy kink, lactation kink.

“Fuck..” natalie let out a sigh as she gently prodded at her rock hard boobs, her milk had come in early in the pregnancy and it was always causing her pain and lottie hated seeing her girlfriend in pain while carrying their baby.

A few days prior, Lottie noticed her girlfriend's pain and offered to relieve the pain for her but Natalie just laughed it off with flushed cheeks, thinking she was just joking around.

But she was very, very serious.

They were just watching TV in the living room and Lottie noticed natalies discomfort and put a hand on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles on her inner thigh, a little too close to her most sensitive parts.

“Do you need some help?” Lottie murmured, her voice quiet but loud enough for Natalie to hear it and she nodded, not really wanting to talk because of the discomfort and pain she was in.

“Okay, take off your shirt, baby.” she said, starting to pull up natalies shirt and Natalie lifts up her arm so her shirt can be taken off her body.

Natalie wasn't wearing a bra, and once her shirt was lifted milk was leaking from her nipples a bit and the sight made lotties mouth go dry almost instantly. 

Lottie presses a kiss on her swollen belly before straightening back up and brushing her thumb over one of natalies nipples, and it caused natalie to shiver a bit but she just wanted her boobs to not feel like rocks on her chest, it hurt a lot for her.

Lottie reached down so her mouth was level with natalies nipple and began to suck, the milk going down her throat, making her close her eyes in pleasure because it tasted so good.

Natalie pet lottie's hair and let out a soft moan of pleasure and a sigh of relief, that the pain is finally starting to ease.

After a few minutes of drinking her tit milk, lottie looked up at natalie and she was milk and drool all over her face and the sight was almost laughable for natalie because of how ridiculous lottie looked.

“The other one,” natalie murmured and lottie listened, and began to suck on the othe nipple and it felt so fucking good, little quiet moans left her lips every so often and her hips move a bit, as if shes shifting around in her seat. 

But she's just getting close, and lottie realizes this and sucks a bit harder on her nipple and natalie grips lottie's hair so hard that she could pull it out if she tried. 

Her orgasm hits her all at once, whimpers and moans leave her lips as she shuts her eyes tightly and lottie pulls away once natalies orgasm subsides, and she looks quite like a frazzled cat who got caught doing something they shouldn't have been, it's an amusing sight.

[puppyrage]

i am jealous of your handwriting

thank you nonnie, it is literally the only thing i have going for me right now☺️ dotting my i’s with hearts to prevent psychosis

[puppyrage]

^_^

[puppyrage]

i need to abuse a substance

[puppyrage]

being spooned while they slip their hand under your waistband from the back and work you open while you’re both all sleepy (◞‸◟；)

[puppyrage]

do you wanna come over and makeout and see who can cum untouched first? hint: it’s gonna be me!

[puppyrage]