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honestsycrets · 11 months

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Stung | [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | after a discus malfunction, you're bitten by an anomaly and refuse medical attention. you're in a state that you refuse to show to miguel-- at all costs.

❛ tags | NSFW, sex pollen, mention of a wound, slight chase, miguel o'hara doesn't like to be ignored, cum eating, creampies, abnormal amount of fluid, venom bite, slapping, some insecurity, spanish is not translated, sexual memories.

❛ sy’s notes | my obligatory ABO-sex pollen fic for ATSV. i usually make a ABO/Sex Pollen piece per fandom I write in, so here's one for Miggy 🐝

“All done!”

You slipped out of HQ’s packed infirmary with a jaunty bounce in your step. Crispy, coppery blood was matted onto your forearm concealed behind a hastily tied bandage. You weren't concerned about it. It would resolve within the hour. Likely less. As would your elevated body temperature. Despite the doctor's prattle about the benefit of further testing, you found their concern to be a non-issue. These things were virtual non-issues, even if the doctor and your man thought otherwise.

The hallways at HQ were like any other day in your city. Congested with the coming and going of spiders in their daily lives. A glimpse at any group might reveal decadent flirting and haughty laughter. Some were in a rush to their own worlds, but most were completing work assigned by the Spider Society. The one you were looking for reclined against a wall with his arms interlocked one over the other. His displeased rumble prompted you to his presence above all other voices in the crowd.

“You should have let them run the tests.” His voice was teased with concern but became mild, little more than a drab sigh at your refusal. You blew off his concern with a shake of your hand, gone yellow and bubbly behind a bit of ineffectual gauze. His eye glazed over the wound. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his mask, but you didn't need to. You only needed to convince him you were right.

“It’s stopped bleeding, Miggy. It’s just a scratch,” You held up your arm, flicking it with emphasis. His eyebrows raised for a moment, then flattened, staring at you with a dull rictus. “It was just a brief malfunction of the discus.”

Technically it was more of an impalement, but if Miguel wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to invite him to delve deeper. Otherwise, you might spend the next few hours of your life fixing a wound that surely would have closed up by the time results were back. The injury site mildly itched. That was all. Never mind, the slight, honey-colored rash migrating from the puncture site to your elbow. Or the referred pain. Minor things.

“You’re being stubborn.”

“You’re the one to talk.” You snapped the discus free from your sash and chucked it toward Miguel. He caught it with an unsurprising amount of ease, claws clicking in unison against the ineffectual metal.

“¡Qué problema!” he mocked, his voice dry and absent of discernible emotion.

You closed the distance between your bodies to slide your arms around his broad neck. His other hand came to your lower back. It was warm, the way he touched you, from the bundles of affection that fluttered in your belly to the heat dappling across your chest. You missed this every day. It made fleeing the infirmary all the more worth it.

“I put the anomaly in another discus. One that actually works, no thanks to your programming.”

“That’s what happens when you take things without asking.” He flicked the discus between his thumb and index finger, waggling it for emphasis. It was true that there had been nights that went with banging, clacks, clatters, and the occasional outburst when things weren’t quite going his way. There were a few discuses on his desk. You just so happened to take the one that malfunctioned. “I was working on it. ¿Qué era?”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Just some stingy bees. What harm could they do?”

His eyes roamed your wound. You couldn't help but look down too, both horrified and fascinated by the way the rash had moved in just a brief few minutes. The colour had begun to fade. You glanced up, flattening your mouth into a slight, forced smile.

“Fine. If you're sure.”

To be fair, you secured many anomalies with and without the help of others. They all went into their cozy, temporary forcefield homes until they could be fairly redirected to their appropriate dimensions. In the downtime, you could help or hinder Miguel's progress. Then, your watch would alert you to another disturbance and the cycle would continue.

Until that morning.

Your watch blared, and blared, and blared some more. The early morning sun began to rise and cast offensive beams of light into your room. Usually, it didn’t bother you. But this morning, everything offended you from the scratch of silky sheets on your naked body to Lyla illuminating what darkness was left, all golden and cute. You wondered if that was how Miguel felt when you forgot to pull the curtains, strung out on the bed after he finished with you.

“Woah! Oops!” she turned, covering her eyes with her spindly fingers. A growing ache throbbed between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same dull soreness from Miguel’s late-night visit last night, either. “Sorry, sorry. Miguel--”

“He can handle it,” you bit out, snappier than you intended. It wasn't like you. “Or-- Jess. No, Gwen. Gwen can do it, she loves--”

“He asked for you.”

Of course, he did. You scrunched a pillow over your head. Your Miguel couldn’t see you this. Absolutely not. You debated getting up, ignoring what you called a negligible ache that was quickly morphing into a terrible pounding. You can't believe how quickly the thought fell apart, pushing yourself to sit up in bed. The ghost of his scent floods your nose, flashing memories of the night before.

Something at work set him off. Something that commanded no intimacy, but the mechanical release of his rage that wouldn't destroy precious resources. He sat on the edge of the bed, driving your mouth onto his cock with the aid of your hair bundled around his fist. You recalled the shakiness of his thighs under your fingers, his firm legs spread wide fucking your mouth with cold abandon. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, needing the release, needing to see your body painted by whips of his cum sprayed across your exposed breasts. He pulled you off in silence, inspecting the drool and cum that spilled down your chin and throat in rivulets. "What--"

Your face tightened, glancing down at the growing tension in your belly. Everything began to annoy you, especially the scratch of the sheets against your skin, your bed empty of his presence. How could you tolerate that uniform plastered to your ass? You buried into the offensive bed. This was fine. This was normal, recalling what you'd done last night. Surely, the burn had to do with the whole being launched through not one, but two crumbling buildings the day before. The dust and rubble. Were you close to your cycle?

“Tell him I’m dead,” and without another word, you resolved the call. Within seconds she popped up again, bent at the waist because this was your life now. Never could you just… take a day off. There was always something. You muffled your screams of protest into the mattress and dug your feet in, kicking off the sheets, the blankets, the pillows, all of it.

“Is this a fit? You’ve never had a fit before,” Lyla noticed. A fit? She thought the burning of your body was a fit? Damn AI. Resolve.

Resolve. Resolve. Resolve.

It became cathartic after a good while. Or it would have been if not for your senses hyper-fixating on every minor change in your body. Despite your apprehension, you knew. What was once a dull pain radiating from your forearm morphed into something much worse. Something you couldn’t blame on the rather average experience of being pelted through the average event of windows and concrete. It was more than a tingle. It burned as it coursed through your body.

You stumbled over the bundle of bedding into the bathroom. It was there that you realized that to your horror, you weren’t just lubricated, now you were soaked. Your fluids coursed down your thighs as you dabbed the region clean with a bundle of tissues. It did little good. Touching the area exasperated the issue. Maybe you needed an orgasm, maybe ten. An hour or so later, you slammed the heel of your palm into the mirror, fracturing it into shards of terrible glass that crumbled onto the countertop. Beads of blood dabbled onto your reflection.

“If you d--” resolve.

So not a reaction to your average bee sting. Correction. A great, big, fat colony of hissing, buzzing bees. The act of recalling information was like jamming your hand into fluid water to snatch a tiny hair tie. No matter how many times you tried to recall the information, you couldn’t quite grasp it. It was there, floating around your head, but inaccessible. Your mind traveled back to Miguel. How gentle his lips could be, trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder when you rode him in reverse. How deep he'd go.

"Fuck off!" Your watch blared again. Its beeping filled your bathroom, echoing over and over. You reached behind the door to pluck a silky white slip from its hook and dragged it over your head. You were about to resolve the call again when the hot timbre in his warm voice saying your name gave you pause. Your Miguel, popping up in a golden haze. You found yourself gazing at his full lips, full and plump. If only he was here. He could have his lips on your--

“What are you doing?”

Lost in thought, you failed to realize that Miguel had been calling you by name again. You shook your hazy mind free of the thoughts that formed a swirling cloud over your head. You slumped down the wall and onto the floor.

Help was what you failed to say. As your mouth opened, nothing came out. The words were not wording. The vulnerability of asking for help was palpable. You soothed yourself by shifting your hands underneath your skirt. What would he think if he saw you here-- ripped asunder by your own biology? Whore. Miguel lowered his gaze, his eyes squinting at the sweat dabbling down your neckline as he looked you over. He wouldn't want you anymore.

“Are you listening? ¡Coño! What is wrong with you!?”

Resolve.

You resolved him. Your Miggy-- resolved. Oh, you swallowed dryly. He wasn’t going to be happy about that. It wasn’t a matter of if Miguel would come for you. It was a matter of when. When he had time to separate himself from trashing-- whatever was the closest object to him in the lab-- to take out his rage on you. You reached for your medicine cabinet. You had more important things to worry about. First on the list? The searing heat.

Your watch was better off tucked away in a chest in the closet.

Night came with no solutions. You crouched on your window sill, chest rising and falling. You sought to stare at anything but the mindless buzz of the tv screen inside. Even with light pollution, some stars winked in the distance. Your body was a bundle of warm heat, buzzing with irritation after a fruitless day of soothing your body. You grew accustomed to your pert nipples against your silky slip, the lubricant coursing down your leg. At first, denial. Now, acceptance. You thought tomorrow might be better.

You felt his presence before you heard, smelled, or saw him. Through the sea of scorched sensations battering your senses, there was one that stood apart. A tickle that niggled at the back of your head. It could have been anyone, but you didn’t have to guess to know who it was. “Lyla."

“You haven’t called him all day,” Lyla squeaked.

“Called all-- I answered his call!” Your dress was matted to your body, cloaked in an abhorrent amount of sweat. It was only minutes ago that you retrieved your watch confident that you could bullshit something, anything, for a few days of reprieve. You jammed your shaking finger to resolve the call.

“Not all of them. Miguel was worried.”

“Worried! Lyla, that is not worried,” you spat. That was your Miguel, scaling the side of your apartment. His talons cracking the siding of your apartment. The reverberations spiraled up your legs, sending waves of anticipation lapping at your core. After your long day, you weren't sure how you were still somehow upright. With every crack of his talon into the brick siding, you were running out of time to come up with an excuse.

In a bid to escape, you fell into your room. The hard floor knocked the breath out of your dry lips. You stumbled onto your feet and supported yourself with a bookcase of less than half-read books. “Lyla, he can’t see me like this!”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” she popped back up. “C’mon, you can tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

If her tone was playful in some half-baked attempt to neutralize your fight, the threat was imminent. Your hand connected with the top of the window, applying pressure to close the window. A hair too late. At the same time, Miguel’s clawed hand curled around the bottom of the window sash. You were too slow for the man who excelled with power, speed, and efficiency. You weren't going to win this fight. Not with your body threatening to crack at the very sight of your man's strength.

Though you saw him nearly daily, he always took your breath away. His sinewy body was always a sight, his suit accentuated his thick and fine cut. You moistened your lips, longing to run your fingers through his thick dark brown hair as you did every night. You caught his sharp gaze a second longer than you should have.

“Open up,” he whispered coolly.

He was a distraction. The wind was not on your side either, blowing wisps of his scent into your overwrought senses. His natural musk mixed with the sweat of a hard day's work. Somewhere in there, bitter blood. You could smell the caramelized scent of the flaky, buttery empanadas and hot coffee you shared the day before. It gave you pause, his intoxicating smell and the sultry trill of his voice. But you couldn’t let him see you, not like this.

“Oop, there he is. Just checking on you,” Lyla chittered. Resolve.

“Miggy, please go away,” you sobbed in frustration, shifting to shoulder the window. “Why are you so stubborn!?”

“It’s who I am.”

The window cracked all at once. With mere milliseconds to respond to the sash careening into the upper rail, you whirled past the bedroom door. Miguel broke into a run behind you with long strokes of his legs. He made contact, sending you barreling into your lazy sapphire couch from the impact. You saw stars for a fraction of a second before you lurched on your palms and elbows, scrambling off of the couch and across the floor. His hand caught your ankle and dragged you underneath his body.

“¡Ay!” you bit out. “No, no no no. Miggy!”

“¡Callate!”

His hand wrapped tightly around your throat to force complacency, pinning you back to the hardwood floor. Your palms slammed onto his chest, drawing lines down his chest. Bits of pathetic electricity fizzled on his broad, muscular chest, a consequence of your fading focus. That focus was eviscerated when Miguel threw his hips flat against your core. Your frantic fidgeting against Miguel soothed some of the terrible, buzzing pressure rattling between your legs like warm honey on a sore wound. The ache for his relief became more important than the impulse for substantial breaths.

“Don’t move. Why are you--”

“I can’t help it,” you cut him off, straining against his large palm to stare at his crotch. His gaze fell on yours, following the path to his soft cock. His eyes widened with the sudden attention. Tears threatened to spill over from your eyes, pricked with spikes of pain. "It's too much!"

You ate your shame with his body crouched between your legs and his large palm choking the air out of your throat. The influx of air not only brought your scent, but your day-long desperation to fix what you believed was wrong. He could smell it now. He could see it now. He could hear it in your voice. He knew why you failed to answer his calls. The violent jabbing of the resolve button. Throwing your watch into your cramped closet to ignore the calls. The pheromones that soaked your apartment. It was unavoidable.

“You can’t help it,” he repeated. Miguel considered you with razor-sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as the talons that rescinded into his arms.

"I'll see about that." His hand left your neck to reveal bundles of bumpy shivers that soared across your skin. He raised his finger to wipe away the wet tears that fell from your flushed cheeks. Then dropping lower, Miguel chased the thin straps of your gown with his claw and slid the offending fabric off of your breast. The nub was as hard as it had been hours ago when you twerked the nipple between your fingertips and dreamed of Miguel.

“You’re...” he cupped your breast in your palm and massaged your nipple with one sharp twist of his thumb. The gasp that left your lips wasn’t one you were proud of. Your undulating hips that ground down on his cock weren’t entirely unwarranted. You needed it. "Hot. As if you're in heat."

This couldn’t be happening. From a ball of rage to one of arousal, he released a tiny amused chuckle. You spent much of the day in different parts of the apartment with your hand, toy, ice, and water into your body to soothe this terrible ache. So Miguel wouldn't see you like this. It was this moment you sought to avoid after your long day: The moment of Miguel's disapproval. Now he laughed at you.

“Happy?” you sobbed into the forearm that kept Miguel stable. “Go away, someone else could use your stupid help.”

“Don’t you need me?” Miguel dipped his head down. Strands of his dark hair tickled your hypersensitive skin. With the lightweight fabric of his suit, pressing your cunt back against his clothed bulge felt wonderful. You bit your lower lip and watched his cock jut against its fabric. You lifted your puffy eyes to his gaze and found a wicked gleam there. He knew it wasn’t enough contact for the pressure and painful spasms to abate. Deep down, you knew that Miguel was your only hope for relief. Who else could, or would, you call in this condition? Mostly because Miguel always fixed everything.

"Miggy," you murmured. After this pitiful display, he wasn't rejecting you? Your mind flowed weightless and light. The terror of your day faded under his careful caress. In its place, comfort that he would take care of you.

“Don’t you?” His hand snaked between your folds and found it soaked wet, the low throbbing of your pussy palpable. He retracted his fingers and spread the sticky fluid between his thumb and middle finger. At some point, silence became better than an answer. Miguel brought his hand down on your cunt for a sharp slap. Bundles of nerves cried out under the abuse. It shook free a squeal from your lips, bitten raw by the pressure of the day. Your head bobbed into a mechanical nod as to save yourself from another slap.

“You know how to ask. It’s si Miguel, por favor Miguel.”

You needed the warm sensation of his cum. But making those words proved too difficult. Your canines pierced bloody holes in your lower lip. You clawed up his forearms, trying to leverage and force him closer. Miguel grabbed your shoulders and thrashed them back down onto the floor. You felt bad for the downstairs neighbors.

“Say it.”

“Miggy,” you looked into his eyes. They were blown wide, nearly fully black with a thin outline of scarlet, chasing the outline of your exposed breast. For all his talk, you realized he wasn't immune. Even with his face tight, his eyes focused on the same thing you needed. Maybe, all this time, you were baiting Miguel with half-assed answers. They were invitations. Invitations to come to fill this need you had. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t what you wanted this whole time. Finally, you had him where you wanted him.

Miguel broke eye contact first. He cupped his plush lips around your nipple, suckling the breast taut and wet. You cried out in surprise and arched into Miguel’s mouth, enticed by the fangs that grazed your nipple. As quickly as he came, he was gone.

You lurched up, palming Miguel's dick through his pants. His hips bucked into your palm. He refused to make any sound as he considered your next movements, releasing Miguel’s cock from his suit. Impatience and need coalesced into your brave movements, sliding your palm against him. He was impossibly thick and hard, dribbling at the tip. Miguel huffed a small noise as your palm ran over him. You dared to call it a moan.

Miguel sneered and shoved you back onto the floorboards. “I’ll only tell you one more time. Ask me properly.”

"You do too, don't you?" You giggled. A noise that grated his ear. With the belief you wouldn’t bolt, Miguel shifted back onto his knees. You wouldn’t. There was nowhere left to run. Not that you even wanted to, fat and hungry off Miguel's growing desperation.

"Come here." He snaked his hands underneath your knees, dragged you close, and pushed them to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut. Moments later, the sensation of his thick dick sliding against your engorged folds forced them back open. It gave you just enough relief through the pulsing pain to look at him with your hazy eyes. From this angle, you appreciated how large Miguel had gotten. His round cock-head bobbed and crested over your mound as it rubbed against your aching clit. His face was trained, focused. He wasn't going to relent first.

The nagging pressure never abated. You sought something more, something better, the sensation of being filled. With every glide, you squeezed your walls in protest to his absence. Your hips protested the restriction of your movement, shimmying against the firm hold he had that kept you in place. You wanted more than that. You wanted true relief from his teasing. Miguel drew back to inspect the fluid over his fat shaft as held you down. You gave in, whining at him like a brat.

“Por,” you scratched his forearms. “Por favor, Miggy. You don’t know what it's like.”

“All fours-- face down.”

The cacophony of desire battered and overcame any other human emotion you could have. You complied, crawling onto your fuzzy indigo rug for what came next. Miguel’s gloved hand skimmed across your ass, middle finger skimming toward the center. He followed up his gentle touch by reeling back his hand and cracking it across your ass, searing the nerves alive. Once, twice, and then a third. Tears pricked your cheeks again, a consequence of your nerves being overwrought and now assailed.

“Miggy!”

He shushed you with fervor, another thwack beating the jiggling flesh hot and red. Your legs trembled under the weight of his slaps. “Ignore my calls again and you’ll get much worse.”

“I didn’t-- you wouldn't want me,” your lips parted in defense of what you’d done. Miguel dipped down to spread your folds, rolling his index finger along your pulsing walls. Your body drew him in, squeezing and urging him forward. Your swollen walls were impossibly tight, straining to bring him in more and more.

"You know I do."

The need for more devoured any other thought, any threats of what he’d do next time. You rolled your hips to ride his hand. In place of a slap, Miguel slid another finger slid in beside the first to stretch your walls open. He faltered at your next words and slid his fingers free.

“Not like… not like I need you.”

“Who decides that?” he pressed on your upper back to force it down. You complied. Miguel stumbled forward, finally pressing his thick head to your pulsing entrance. His round head pressed, just barely, into your wet hole. You clenched down, inviting him into your warmth. You weren’t sure he’d actually give it to you. It was so damn close.

“You do, Miggy,” you murmured, pushing back. He watched as his shaft slowly disappeared into your body, your apprehension of retaliation rendered you too slow to finish.

Miguel snatched your waist and forced you to take the rest, a soppy squelch lubricating his shaft. The sound that slipped from your lips was entirely uncouth, punctuated by his unforgiving thrusts. Your walls strained around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, the drag of his cock and slap of balls against your body always felt somehow like the first. It filled that ache-- the consistent burning need to have him here, inside of your greedy body, scratching something that you could not itch all day. It’s what you wanted.

“That’s right, I do.” Miguel rumbled, short, punctuated thrusts beating your clenching cunt into complacency. The pleasure ruptured through your cunt-- battering his dick in response. He let loose a sharp grunt followed by a string of curses. Your sweet release spilled over his dick and balls, dripping down your thighs. Your legs threatened to shook, but Miguel was unwilling to allow your trembling legs to give out.

"Ah! Miggy!" His fangs punctured your shoulder to force you to stay in position, his pelvis stuttering against yours. His growl punctuated the warm, soothing cum that soothed your walls like warm honey over a wound. Your walls milked him free of his cum, spasming in response to his orgasm. He pieced himself together against your back, pulling his fangs free and settling a soft kiss over the burning wound on your shoulder. As if he hadn't been the one to tear his fangs into the crook of your neck.

“You’re not letting go,” he hummed in annoyance. He turned his attention down to your ass, ghosting his fingers over the healing bruises over your backside. You squealed, jerking forward. He followed you forward, punching a hole in the floor by your side. “Fuck, don’t move!”

You cast your attention back toward Miguel. He huffed forcefully out of his nostrils. He motioned toward your ass as if it were obvious-- your walls were clamped over his cock, unwilling or otherwise unable to let him go, as if he had any more cum to give in that current moment. You took it all.

“I. I didn't-- I can’t--”

“Yeah, I know. That Bee venom does that. Mine should neutralize it.”

At some point, you murmured. It sure as hell wasn’t doing it now, keeping him seated into your cunt that bubbled with the mixture of his and your release. “You knew about it? I could have died!”

Miguel chuckled.

“You wouldn’t. You’re too stubborn to die,” he sighed, fiddling with his watch. The tests-- that you never had ran. Ones that he suggested. Ones that you refused quite openly. “Why would I deny myself the fun?”

His cock slipped free. Your hips dropped and fell slack against the floor. You weren’t proud of the cum that oozed out of your ass over your decimated room, nor the fact that your useless neighbors hadn’t called for help once. Not that you needed it-- but still. You palpated your stomach, slightly distended. Miguel bent down and gathered the mixture of your bodily fluids on his fingers, suckling his own fingers dry. You watched his wet tongue swirl around his fingertips. It wasn't fair.

“Fun? What fun!? Do you know how long I-- You’re a mean man, Miguel O’Hara.”

He lurched over, his breath tickling your lips. He kissed you, salty and sweet. Your nose scrunched up, pouting against his lips. He left the room for the kitchen, fetching a wet cloth to clean his body with. He zipped himself back into his suit shortly after and dropped the sodden cloth by the cum puddling under your ass.

“Never said I wasn’t.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #Miguel ohara/reader #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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twilit-tragedy · 1 year

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My brother, when I call him back after an hour: "No need anymore. I was in need of blood but I've since bled out. Thank you for calling back three hours later." 😂

It was to drop some keys 😭

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kitten4sannie · 3 months

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ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ

ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ/ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ ᴅᴇɴɪᴀʟ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: vampire lord! seonghwa x human! reader (fem) feat. a two second cameo from vampire! san

genre: abo, kinda historical (think guilded era vibe but vampires and humans coexisting kinda), smut

summary: you decide to play with your master’s feelings during the annual masquerade ball held between vampires and occasionally their human counterparts.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of blood, general vampirism/hierarchies, dom! seonghwa, bratty! reader fucks around and finds out, dirty talk, ownership kink, exhibitionism/voyeurism, praise/degradation, possessiveness, pet names/name calling, manhandling, blood drinking, groping, rough blowjob, spit mentions, fingering, orgasm denial, facial, cum eating, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, l bombs

a/n: im obsessed with the idea of criminally insane cunty vampires so i sat hunched over like a damn shrimp and typed up a storm tyvm. also !!! this fic is dedicated to my dear friend orion @pluvialorion ilysmmmm ughh i hope you enjoy >< <33

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Those two are always up to something, I swear. It’s so troublesome,” one old age vampire muttered, complaining about you and your vampire Master to the person standing besides her outside of the ballroom circle. She adjusted her masquerade mask, put off by the sight of you downing a glass full of expensive wine. “Why the council ever decided to allow humans to attend our annual blood balls is beyond me.”

“They always cause a scene,” the other old age vampire agreed, turning his head to watch as you whimsically made your way across the dance floor in your heavy laced dress, taking the hand of any vampire that wanted to dance with you, while your Master watched from the side with growing annoyance. “It’s unsightly.”

“Yes, it’s completely inappropriate, the way they act like they’re the main characters inside some overdone fictional novel,” she scoffed, the vampiress getting herself worked up over nothing, her fingers clenching around her own wine glass filled with a blood blend.

“You hit the nail on the head,” the man nodded, one hand on his hip, the other tilting his wine glass back to drink down its bloody contents, watching you trade one dance partner for another, surprised that you were letting a new age vampire get so handsy with you. “Oh, here we go.”

Seonghwa reached up to brush at his flowy raven hair in a frustrated manner, his furrowed brows and scrunched-up face not doing much to dispel your current goal in pissing off your Master in hopes that he would chase you across the castle grounds and fuck you into oblivion. “You’re asking for it, little lamb…” he mumbled to himself, the bright red hue in his eyes growing brighter by the second.

“I didn’t realize you were interested in me, Miss Y/N. Care to forget about your sour, old age counterpart over there and spend the night with me?” the charming, feline-like vampire you were using whispered into your ear, holding your body impossibly close to his as you both slowly rotated together in timed circles according to the flow of the orchestra music that was playing throughout the large ballroom.

“Oh, Mr. Choi, try not to puff out your chest just yet,” you murmured back with faux pity, clasping your fingers around his cheeks, feeling his fingers inch closer and closer to your ass, able to feel the fiery gaze of your lover from afar. “You’re simply a puppet for my amusement.”

The vampire scoffed, still finding it inside himself to twirl you around and bring you back into his arms, his fingers clasping around your waist a little tighter than before, clearly irritated. “That’s quite rude of you, human. You could’ve lied.”

“Does it matter? I’m not trying to impress you,” you huffed, eyeing Seonghwa out of the corner of your vision, noticing the way he clutched the edge of the aged mahogany table being used to showcase various blood-filled desserts. Just as the vampire was about to speak up, you shook your head, silencing him. “Just hurry up and grab my ass, will you? And grab it hard. I want Seonghwa to–Oh!”

The peeved vampire did indeed get a handful, his fingers sinking deep into your squishy flesh through your dress, leaning over your shoulder to make eye contact with Seonghwa, who was fuming, still having the gall to stick his tongue out at him.

An intoxicating mix of anger and arousal coursed through Seonghwa to the point that it all spilled out of him at once, resulting in a short, aggressive shout, the other patrons looking over their own shoulders to see what was going on. Sadly, they weren’t very surprised to watch him lift up the side of the heavy dessert table and toss it across the room with a frightening amount of ease, narrowly missing the heads of the orchestra members.

You let go of San who quickly scampered away, not wanting to feel the vampire lord’s intense wrath. You, however, took pride in seeing the way your lover was seething, how he pierced you with his dark crimson eyes and delightfully suffocating pheromones alone, his white, elongated fangs already on display for you, knowing he wished he could just sink them directly into the most delicate parts of your body.

“Why are you so angry, my love?” you called out to him with faux naivety, giving him a pout, motioning to the mess that had spilled onto the sheer marble floor. “You ruined all those lovely desserts.”

“And almost took the head off of a violin player, but I digress,” the older vampire from before murmured to her friend, the both of them chortling softly to themselves.

“Oh, you know what you’ve done, darling,” Seonghwa tsked from across the room, taking slow, deliberate steps in your direction, his high-heeled shoes clacking lightly against the pristine floor, most of the other patrons stepping out of his way. “I have a question for you. Do you know what happens to pretty things that disobey their Masters?”

You brought your hand up to lift off your masquerade mask just in time for Seonghwa to stand directly in front of you, his lean, elegant frame towering over yours. “I’m unaware of the answer, dearest. Do pray tell.” Your face twisted into something that could only be described as smug. Seonghwa wanted to wipe that expression off your face and turn it into something more worthwhile — flushed, contorted with a lovely mix of pain and pleasure, and painted in his cum.

“They get punished, my sweet. So, I suggest you hike up that lovely dress I bought you and get to running.”

࿏࿏࿏

There was something so exhilarating about having the love of your life chase after you, knocking over furniture and pushing other vampires out of the way just to get his hands on you. You would look back occasionally, catching glimpses of the hazy blood-lust in Seonghwa’s eyes, resulting in a fresh wave of slick between your thighs.

Somewhere along the line, you had ended up in the castle garden, your bare feet hitting the soft grass, having lost your heels during your chaotic trek there. Panting softly, your breath hitting the cold night air, you realized you were surrounded by chipping marble statues of vampires of the past, a maze of blood-red roses covered in thorns surrounding a sleek stone gazebo, and thousands of constellations sitting in the dark sky above you.

“Caught you, little lamb…” you heard in a deep, gravelly voice, shivers making their way up your spine. Seonghwa took slow steps near you, finding it amusing how you trapped yourself in a corner, his entire being pulsing with sexually-charged aggression. “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You want me to have my way with you, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Rather than replying verbally, you simply held up the front of your dress, showing off your plump, slicked-up cunt for his viewing pleasure, your lips twisted up into a perverted smile, lust practically emanating from your form. “What do you think, my love? Does my wet cunt give you any hints?”

Before you knew it, Seonghwa had you pinned to the side of the gazebo, one hand on your shoulder to keep you still with his immense strength and the other underneath your hiked-up skirt, fucking you deep with two agile fingers, not concerned with the occasional passerby, some of them slowing down to witness the titillating sight of a vampire lord punishing his human counterpart.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, sweet. Is my poor little lamb already falling apart for me?” he asked with faux pity against your neck, sucking your soft flesh into his mouth to leave a mark, piercing them lightly with his fangs. “Is it because anyone can come by and see the way I have my hand up your skirt and hear the pretty little moans that you’re making for your darling?”

“N-ooo, it’s because it’s you, Seonghwa,” you sighed out softly, a familiar heaviness filling your core until your legs went wobbly, moaning from the feeling of Seonghwa gulping down just enough of your life source to make you pleasantly dizzy, his fingers still slipping in and out of your leaking cunt.

“Mm, it’s a pity though. I wish San knew just how quick I can make your pretty cunt leak all these juices onto me,” he purred against your soft skin, slurping your arousal from his fingers before cupping his palm onto your hot cunt, lightly moving it over your clit, knowing he was pleasuring you just enough to make you squirm, but aware that your much-needed orgasm had faded away due to his control.

He brought his still dripping fingers up to your mouth, pleased that you obediently sucked your own slick off of them, his gaze flitting between your lips and love-struck eyes. “He’ll never see you like this. See the way you need me in every possible way I can have you…”

“It’s only for you to see, my love,” you replied lovingly, pressing your lips onto his, drawing Seonghwa into you like a moth to a blazing flame.

You shared a series of frenzied, heated kisses that consisted too much of tongue, teeth, and fangs, your hand slipping into Seonghwa’s loosened satin trousers to swiftly jerk him off, his abundant pre-cum squishing in between your closed fingers, your quick, unrelenting grip causing him to wobble a bit, the thick edges of his heeled shoes sinking further into the grass below. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, Hwa? You’re so hard for me, throbbing, leaking so much…”

“Fuck–I need you, darling, need you bare for me, need your pretty mouth around my cock,”Seonghwa groaned out onto your lips, nipping at it enough to get a small taste of iron on his own crimson stained ones. Without a word, he tore your dress from your body, pearls falling from your broken necklace and landing around your feet. You gasped. He clasped his hands around your corseted waist, bringing your face near your neck, his lips just barely touching your skin. “On your knees, my love.”

You melted to the floor, reaching up to hold onto his hips, watching his cock spring out once his pants past his v-line, eventually holding it in front of your drooling mouth. You studied him, your eyes traveling up his shiny, curved length to his pronounced pink head, sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of his pre-cum on your tongue. “It’s so pretty, Hwa…”

“I know it is, sweetheart. Now, open up,” he exhaled softly, slipping his slender fingers into your soft hair to clutch the sides of your head, plugging your mouth up with his thick cock.

Seonghwa fucked your face so quickly, so sloppily, so desperately, he reached his end in a matter of minutes, bringing you down onto his cock until your nose pressed into his pelvis, feeling your throat contracting around him. “Fuck, you drive me mad, darling…I’m already about to cum….”

It was when he was able to smell the endless slick that dripped out of your needy cunt, that Seonghwa pulled out, rubbing his cockhead across your lips and smearing his pre-cum across your face, ruining the perfect state of your makeup. “You look so pretty, my love, but I know how to make you look even more divine for me…”

“Enlighten me, my dear,” you sighed lovingly, licking the warm saltiness from your lips.

“Watch closely. This is all for you, darling…” Seonghwa gazed down at you with his crimson, hooded eyes, his chest rising and lowering with shallow breaths, using his closed hand to milk his flushed cock, seemingly endless splashes of cum landing onto your face. “Mm, what do you think San would think of you now, little lamb? Think of your lovely face painted with my cum?”

“He’d think I was a mess,” you mused, licking the bitter milkiness from your swollen lips, opening your mouth to take one last spurt of cum onto your tongue when Seonghwa moaned wantonly, his fingers squeezing near the pinkish tip. “He’d know I’m yours.”

“My mess, my beautiful darling. Of course he’d know you’re mine. All mine,” Seonghwa sighed dreamily, lowering himself to his knees to pull you in for a deep kiss, your tongues and lips meeting with fervent need.

“You think he’d enjoy watching you fuck me into ecstasy?” you asked in between heavy breaths and kisses, hooking your thighs around his bare waist, slipping your hands onto the bare skin of his chest past his loose blouse, your fingers grazing his nipples.

“I’d take off his head, before I’d let him watch the way your cunt stretches open for me,” Seonghwa groaned, groping down your body, rubbing two fingers against your slippery folds, his fangs returning to your neck, this time indulging his instincts and slipping inside you, resulting in soft throes of pleasure from the both of you. “Speaking of, your little cunt needs my cock, doesn’t it? Is that why you’re so wet?”

“Yes, please, I can’t stand being empty any longer, my love,” you whined to him, your squelching cunt already beginning to clench around his thrusting fingers, wishing his cock was filling you up instead.

“You won’t be able to cum with just my fingers, will you, darling? Because your lovely body is only accustomed to my cock, isn’t it? Made for it, hm?” Seonghwa continued to tease you with his words, curling his digits inside you, resulting in increasingly heavy moans from his one and only, encouraging him to fuck you faster with them. “Fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me, darling. You’re so good for me…”

“Oh–my god, so close…”

“Yeah? You want to spill your cum all over me, Y/N? Make a mess of me?” Seonghwa encouraged breathily, his forehead pressed to yours, pressing his lips against yours in between moans.

“Y–esss…”

Just as you were about to cum, you were suddenly filled with a devastatingly empty feeling, realizing he had pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking your vast amounts of slick off of them. “N-no, please, Seonghwa, I want to cum…!”

“You’ll have to cum on my cock, sweetheart. Now, be good and take it,” he replied softly, his voice devoid of pity, the ridged edge of his cock hooking onto your clit and making you jolt, before he slipped inside you inch by inch, sending you back into a pleasurable fog. “I’ll breed you until you’re full for me.”

“So full, I’m so full, darling.” You hooked your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, his lips already attached to your neck again, shuddering against him as he drank down your life-source, his cock offering your cunt a delicious stretch each time he pounded into you. “So good, Hwa, it feels so good…”

“Because we were made for each other, my love, our souls always intertwined, forever, you’ll always be mine,” Seonghwa reminded you in between pants and soft moans, his raven hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat, love and admiration seeping its way through his lust-struck gaze, kneading his hands into your thighs, your warm, sopping-wet cunt enveloping his cock so tightly, he couldn’t keep himself from unloading wave after wave of his hot cum inside you, so deeply it reached your womb. “Fuck, you’re milking my cock, darling, just take it all, take it all for me…”

You couldn’t say anything, only letting out a near soundless whine, clutching the back of Seonghwa’s head, never breaking eye contact as you experienced what could only be described as pure bliss, your bodies and hearts melting together. “I love you, Seonghwa, so much,” you finally got out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know,” he replied just as softly, barely caressing your face, like he was afraid you would shatter into a thousand pieces and fall away from his grasp. Seonghwa was completely flushed, his long raven hair now a mess, sticking to his sweaty face, his plush lips a deep red. “Now do you see what you do to me, darling?”

You nuzzled into him, your heart beating against his quiet one, the cool night breeze gracing your warm, joined skin, knowing you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I think I have an idea.”

fff taglist: FFF taglist: @itza-meee @chnt1 @k-hotchoisan @wonyobie @vampiregirl215 @yuyusbunny @christmastodoroki @luvt0kki @pieyoon @goldnhwa @choisanboobenthusiast @icyb3rry @maximofftrash @choism @yunhosmelonbar @nebulousbookshelf @astayinwonderland @slutologyy @10nantscompanion @ddaeing @pandagirl-016 @Randomgirl11-posts @staytiny816 @horanghae8 @smally97 @ateezzzser @bubblegumbird @midnightmaja @i2nsstuff @asimpelslut @svt-dinosaurus @wisejudgedragonhairdo @deathbyyeekies @firefox79 @wildesreblogs @everyonewooeverywhere @raspberrysannie @Whatintheninerealms @hyunjinsbby @Hyphenen @channiespup @abby-grace @seonghwaddict @mxnsxngie (pls check your privacy settings loves <3)

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#ateez #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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gagoochi · 2 years

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Guys help this is so cursed. XD

I just realized that blood types are combinations of A, B, and O and it got me thinking: imagine an A/B/O world where your blood type determines your status or whatever so like A blood types are alphas, B types are betas, O types are omegas and maybe AB types are either chill alphas, headstrong betas or have a 50/50 chance to be either.

#A/B/O #ABO #blood types #alpha/beta/omega #cursed

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ineversawagoddessgo · 2 years

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lmao he would be AB

#madison watches kinnporsche #everything I know about blood type personalities I learned from koi no ABO

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

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Part 3: Acceptance

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist? Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, rope usage, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap on use (R receiving), little bit of blood, mentions of a gun/knife towards the end, manipulation

Masterlist

A/N: This part is a bit longer than the others. Is this type of relationship okay? Definitely not. Is this toxic? Absolutely! Did I still write it? Of course! Feel free to let me know what you think so far or if you have any questions about anything. I appreciate all your reads ❤️

Current Winter 2018

"You're just as sexy as I remember," Wanda groans against your lips, kisses trailing to your jaw and neck.

The ride to Wandas was short and full of teasing touches. The kiss started at the parked car and led the two of you inside, clothes being scattered throughout the house on the way to her insanely large bedroom. You made it into her room, where she quickly discarded the rest of yours and her own clothes.

"You're just as hot as I remember," you giggle back, a moan escaping your lips as her mouth finds your already hard nipple. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, her teeth sinking in gently. Your hands were in her hair, holding her close to your chest.

Wandas' large hands roamed over your skin, like a map, she'd already known all the roads. "Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?" She moans against your skin. You moan back in response.

"Yes ma'am," you pathetically whimper out. "Can I taste you?" You ask her with innocent eyes, a small bite of your lip. "Please?" You add.

She smiles at the sight and brings a hand up to your cheek, her thumb gliding over your lips. A familiar feeling you can't quite place in the swirl of pleasure and still feeling a little tipsy.

Wanda was obsessed with your lips. She was always staring at them, even during your sessions. She thought about kissing you constantly. She thought about rubbing them, just like now, with the pad of her thumb.

"Such pretty lips.." her words sent shivers down your spine. "Scoot up on the bed. You want to taste me, baby?" You nod, again pathetically. When it came to Wanda, you would do anything for her.

You lay back with your head on her pillow, watching as she takes a thin rope in her hands. She walks over to you, hips swaying as she takes both of your wrists and ties them in an intricate knot. The rope is just tight enough it burns in the most pleasurable way as she ties the other end to the headboard.

The crooked smile on her face had your body on high alarm, but the wetness between your legs and the heat in your chest was overwhelming.

One of her fingers trail down your arms that were now held above your head, nail scratching down the skin on your cheek and neck. The way she was looking at you, the look in her eyes, something was wrong. But before you could think anymore, she was crawling over top of you.

"Be a good girl and stick your tongue out," she murmurs. You happily oblige, showing her your tongue. Wanda smirks as you obey her commands and finds herself straddling your face.

You immediately let out a moan as she sits on your mouth. She was already soaking wet. You were breathing in the insatiable scent of her as she began grinding her hips shamelessly down on you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Wanda moans as her thighs squeeze around your head. The sight above you is heavenly. Wandas hands on her breasts, squeezing her nipples as she rides your face. Her brown hair falls in waves down her shoulders. Parted lips moaning your name.

She smirks down at you when she sees your hands moving in their restraints, fingers twitching. You were dying to touch her.

"I don't think so, pretty girl," Wanda says with another lewd moan. Your mouth is practically lapping up her juices, tongue moving desperately for more of her. "Ooh, baby, just like that. Just let me use you," she groans and throws her head back.

It's not long after that her hips grind down harder, and you watch as she pants above you. "Such a pretty face, fuck. I'm gonna cum Y/N! Oh fuck baby," Wanda moans out. Her hips stutter and you feel your face become wetter with her release. Your tongue continues to lap up all she'll give you, and you whine when she moves herself off of you.

Wanda lets her thumb move over your wet lips, already bruised and puffy, "Such pretty lips.." she says again. Dark green eyes rake over your body.

"Wanda, please.." You whimper, moving your hands above you. The rope burns your wrists with every tug.

"Use your words, pretty girl," Wandas tone is strict as she comes back with a large strap attached to her hips.

"I want you to fuck me please.. I need you."

The last three words seem to trigger something in Wanda, her actions pausing to look at you. "Say that again, pet," she inhales deeply and climbs onto the bed.

"I-I need you," you speak weakly, your face red as the words leave your mouth. Wanda closes her eyes for only a moment, relishing the words. She settles herself between your legs.

"Already so wet, just from tasting me?" Wanda asks with a devilish smirk, two fingers tease your entrance. You nod pitifully. Her fingers slide in easily, making the two of you moan in sync. "Y/N, you're so tight.. gotta stretch you out so you can take my big cock." Her fingers pump faster inside of you, stretching you out just like she promised.

"Wanda, I want to touch you," you whine, still moving against the rope. Wanda smirks and shakes her head.

"No, you're going to let me use you."

"Please," you whine again, tears welling up. Her fingers curl. "Please!" You raise your voice.

Her other hand moves up, a sharp slap stings your cheek. You want to cry, but you only moan out in response. Wanda takes your face in her hand, your cheeks squishing in her strong grip.

"You better fucking listen to me, pretty girl. Or I'll tie your legs up too. Do you want that? Huh?" You shake your head quickly in her grip. "No ma'am," you say quietly. Her fingers curl again in the perfect spot, and you feel yourself getting closer. Wanda feels your walls squeeze her fingers, and she removes them too quickly. A few tears finally fall as you're denied release.

With a crooked grin, she opens your mouth with the hand that holds your face. Her now wet fingers slide into your mouth. "Taste yourself, baby.." Wanda chuckles darkly as she feels you suck on her fingers.

"Good girl."

She removes both of her hands to spread your thighs apart wider, lining herself up. Wanda slides the faux cock in effortlessly, feeling you practically swallow her. The moans that left your mouth were enough to make Wanda snap her hips roughly into you.

"Oh my god, Wanda!" You moan as she fucks the strap into you relentlessly.

"Fuck you take me so well, pretty girl," Wanda pants out in between thrusts. One of her hands move from where they gripped your hips to wrap around your throat. Her green eyes were settled on your lips again.

The amount of pleasure you were feeling was overwhelming. The way her strap disappeared fully inside of you with each thrust, the way it rubbed against your clit persistently. It didn't take long before you felt amother build up.

"Wanda I-I need to cum, please? Can I cum?" You beg her, knowing it was what she wanted to hear. She groans, fingers tightening around your neck.

"You can cum, pretty girl.." Wanda smiles down to you. "But I'm not going to stop," she says. More shivers run cold down your spine.

Wanda was true to her word, fucking you through your first orgasm as you scream her name. Her thrusts didn't falter as she continues to pound into you.

"Tell me.. again," She grunts, the grip around your throat squeezing harder. You gasp for air as she leans over your body, lips kissing up your neck.

"I need you," you rasp out. Wanda lets out a pornographic moan, hips rutting into you. She bites down hard on your neck, teeth sinking into your skin. You wince and moan loudly as she turns your head to the side. You wonder if she broke skin.

Your thoughts are confirmed when she lifts her head, a small bit of blood coating her bottom lip.

"Again," she says. Another orgasm was quickly approaching with how sensitive you were, and tears fell from your eyes. You had never felt so much pleasure in your life, and you never felt so much excitement.

Well, only once before...

"I n-need you!" You half moan half yell into the room. Wanda grunts in response, thrusting impossibly deeper inside of you.

"I know you do, pretty girl. You need me to take care of you, don't you? Make you feel good," she's panting harder, words coming out more broken against your neck again. Wanda marks your sensitive skin.

"You need me to fuck you like the perfect little girl you are -Oh Fuck- need me to make you feel alive." Another orgasm washes over you at her words, your eyes close tightly as your body trembles underneath her.

"Yes, yes, Wanda, I need you," you rasp again, voice practically gone from all the moans she's brought out of you. You felt her hips stutter.

"Fuck, fuck," Wanda groans in your ear, along with a few other curses in another language, you assumed her native tongue. Her pace slows to a stop. You finally are able to open your eyes, seeing her looking at you with a bloodys lips. Her green eyes are fixated on your own bruised lips.

Wanda leans forward and kisses you with such passion that your chest fills with excitement all over again. But as you taste your own blood, you feel your shadow nearby.

You watch Wanda return with what looked to be lotion. She had on now a shirt and sweatpants and had dressed you in one of her shirts and sleep shorts after cleaning you up.

"Come here, darling," she whispers sweetly, a familiar underlying tone. Wanda sat on the bed and pulled you into her lap. Her hands took the lotion, rubbing the red marks on your wrists. You sigh at the soothing feeling and rest your head on her shoulder. She kisses your forehead.

The times before, sex with Wanda had been on the rough side, and she told you that's how she liked it. You told her how your old flames were boring, vanilla, always ending in you faking it. Wanda brought something out in you that you didn't know was there, a spark. It was true what she said. She made you feel alive again. You were suddenly itching for a paintbrush.

This time, though, tonight, was something totally different. A different side to Wanda, something darker than you were expecting. You still felt as though you were missing something.

"You'll stay the night?" Wandas sweet voice interrupts your train of thoughts again, and you smile, leaving a kiss on her neck.

"Yes, please.." You whisper back.

Wanda holds you closely, your back pressed against her front. You could feel her even breathing, tickling your ear and neck. Her grip was strong around you. There was no moving away from her. You didn't want to, though. She was warm, soft. The bed smelled of her usual vanilla and mint. You felt yourself easily drifting off to sleep.

Your body and mind were too tired to think, too tired to worry, and too tired to focus on the fact your shadow was there watching.

In the morning, you awake to an empty bed, the sun trying to peak through the half open curtains that hang above the tall windows. You inhale deeply, taking in the scent of Wanda. Sitting up, you stretch your arms, realizing your body was still sore. You assumed Wanda was in her office working, so you quickly went to the bathroom.

Upon looking in the mirror, you took in the various marks she had left on your body. A bite mark where she broke skin, a few dark marks where she had claimed you. Your wrists were still red, and bruises in the form of fingerprints littered your hips. You felt a shock of pleasure go through your veins.

As quietly as you can, you sneak down the stairs, still in Wandas clothes. You smell fresh coffee as you pad down the familiar front hallway. Opposite to your usual therapy session room was Wandas office. The door was cracked open, and you were surprised. All the times you've come, it's been shut, sometimes even locked behind her.

Your hand touches the hard surface, slowly opening it all the way. You expect to see Wanda sitting there at the large wooden desk, but she's nowhere to be found. You walk inside and look around, finding it similar to the room across the hall. A large bookcase took up one of the walls, a few filing cabinets on the other, another fireplace, and some plants scattered throughout.

After looking around, you take a seat in the leather chair behind the desk. Papers scattered atop, the dream journal you gave her, and a few files of different patients she must have.

You look at a silver frame that held a photograph, showing a young brunette Wanda and a young boy, you assumed was her twin. Behind them, a man and a woman, who Wanda looked just like. You can't help but smile at the family photo and turn your head to the next picture frame. An older, grown-up Pietro with dirty blonde hair this time, his arm around a red-

Your stomach drops.

Your skin was burning, your entire body setting off an alarm.

With shaking hands, you grab the picture, stand up, and will yourself to take another look. An older, grown-up Pietro with dirty blonde hair, with his arm wrapped around a red-headed Wanda.

You walk only a step away from the desk, feeling like you were about to faint. The room began to spin. You set the frame down and grab the journal, skimming over the pages. Certain words catch your eye:

"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.

Behind the mask, under the hood, red strands of hair peak out.

The shadow kneels down, a gloved hand reaching up to brush their thumb across your lips.

"Such a pretty little mouse.." The shadow whispers.

You throw the journal across the room. Your hands move to the desk, opening the patient files. Empty, all of them. Blank pieces of paper to bulk them up. You throw them, scattering paper throughout the office. Your hands then reach for the picture frame, staring at the photo of Wanda and her twin. You think of the sessions you spent with her, back to last night. How could you be so blind?

Your shadow appeared a few months after your fling with Wanda, but then they disappeared? Wandas' voice filled your head.

"Last year I had to go home for quite a while to help out my brother, Pietro."

You need to leave. You need to get out of here right now. Everything in you was screaming.

A noise at the door causes you to jump, and the picture frame you held falls to the ground, glass breaking at your feet. Wanda stands in the doorway, sipping a cup of coffee. She was dressed in dark jeans and hoodie, casual.

"I thought the red would be a little more dramatic. It reminded me of that picture," she points to the photo on the floor in the now broken frame. You don't dare to move. Wanda takes another sip of coffee. "We went through a little rebellious phase, dyed our hair."

"Wanda.." You beg, taking a step back. She steps into the room and broken glass crunches beneath her shoes.

"Yes, little mouse?" Wandas crooked smile returns, a shiver up your spine. You close your eyes shut at her words, opening them back up to see her set her mug on the desk.

"It-It was you?" You rasp, hands reaching for the wall behind you.

"Of course it was. Come on, Y/N. You knew, deep down. You hid it from yourself.. Victimized yourself. When, in reality, you were begging for it. You told me you needed me.." Wanda blinks, speaking like it was a casual conversation on a cool Sunday morning.

She takes another step towards you, but you move along the wall away from her. Your head shakes furiously from side to side, anger building up inside of you. Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile still on her face.

"Admit it," she beckons.

"Oh, fuck you, Wanda! Y-You played with my head, broke into my house!"

"And you enjoyed it! You told me you did, darling. Did you forget?" Her hands reach to her desk, pulling a drawer open and grabbing a file. Wanda throws it in your direction, landing on the floor in front of you. "I felt.. excitement.." She quotes you from one of her sessions.

You reach down quickly, not taking your eyes off of the dangerous woman in front of you, and grab the file. It was yours. Filled with confessions, quotes, everything you spoke to her about.

"You wanted someone, me, to bring you back. Give you a purpose." Wanda shakes her head at you.

"What fucking purpose, Wanda? So what, we meet at a-a fucking Christmas party and you think you can stalk me?" Your hands fumble with the file. Wandas demeanor changes at this, her slowly smile fading.

"We met before Natashas party." Her tone is harsh, you take another step away.

You try to think, but your mind is racing, trying to think of any moment in your life you had met Wanda. Surely you would have remembered. You were frightened, but you'd be stupid to say she wasn't beautiful. Hand picked from the Gods. You would have remembered.. why can't you remember?

"Wanda, just let me leave, okay? I won't tell anyone," you try to reason with her. She laughs loudly, the sound filling the room.

"Oh, little mouse. No one will believe you anyway! They didn't before, why would they now? Believe what - a woman with a history of mental illness? Someone who threatened to shoot her neighbors before trying to blow a hole in her head?" Wanda laughs again, shaking her head. "Over your psychiatrist, who has already documented each and every session. Filed away and reported accordingly."

"I waved that gun around because of you! You made me feel that way!" You yell at her, but Wanda only smirks.

"We both know that's not why.. Just admit it, Y/N," her voice is soft, but the look in her eyes is enough to know she's anything but. You look at her, confused. "Admit that you enjoy our little game," Wanda steps forward.

"What game, Wanda?" You don't move from the wall as she steps up to you. Your heart races out of your chest.

"Our Cat and Mouse game," Wanda says with a smirk, your blood runs cold.

"Just accept the fact that you enjoy it, and everything will be so much easier.." Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, her thumb running over your lips.

You take in her words, you take in the way your body reacts to her simple touch, the way it ignores all of the warning signs in your mind.

You weren't crazy.

You had a shadow, and now she was standing right in front of you.

Your eyes move to the door, Wanda chuckles as you do and takes a step back.

"You can run if you want," she starts, reaching behind her back. "But I will punish you.." Wandas' hand returns with a short knife. A black handle with an intricate design, a sharp blade medium length.

'What did you feel?' You imagine Wanda ask you as she sits across from you during a session.

Fear.

"And when I find you," she continues, licking her lips. The crooked smile returns. "I will fuck you."

Excitement.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen #dark fic #dark wanda x reader #dark wanda maximoff

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plaguechyld · 3 months

Note

Omega! Muzan headcanons? 👀

Oooo sure

I'm also kinda tempted to write omega!muzan with an enigma!reader in a full fic (for those who dont know what an enigma is in ABO terms its the rank that falls above alphas in some variations of the verse)

Contains: ABO verse, afab!muzan, omega!muzan, sexual content, mentions of pregnancy + kids, subbot!muzan, domtop!reader, enigma!reader

SFW

Omega!Muzan who is very picky about the type of fabric his clothing is made out of. If its too scratchy he won't ever wear it.

Omega!Muzan who enjoys being taken out to see beautiful secluded spots on dates

Omega!Muzan who doesn't submit alphas or betas at all and has a strong resistance to alpha pheromones.

Omega!Muzan who makes his nest extremely extravagant, even going as far as to buy a special made nesting bed that is shaped like a large cat bed.

Omega!Muzan who decorates his nest with soft lavender and down filled pillows and blankets at all times.

Omega!Muzan who likes to light scented candles in every room to help soothe him when he's stressed.

Omega!Muzan who's scent smells like toasted sugar, pumpkin and vanilla.

Omega!Muzan who takes a long time doing self care and takes baths with rose petals or bubbles in the water.

Omega!Muzan who must have dim light when he's in heat and therefore uses only his candles and not any types of lamps.

Omega!Muzan who spends a considerable amount of time curled up against [name].

Omega!Muzan who loves going to the hot springs with his lover.

Omega!Muzan who's appetite increases incredibly the week before his heat cycle starts and craves strong healthy flesh, preferably healthy women with marechi blood because they give the most nutrition to a demon.

Omega!Muzan who always demands several massages from [name] after his heat cycle ends.

Omega!Muzan who has never wanted pups before meeting [name] and now he can't seem to get the image of little ones running around and asking [name] for food...

Omega!Muzan who is hesitant to have pups because he doubts whether or not he'd be a good mother, though he always feels better when [name] reassures him about it.

Omega!Muzan who first met [name] out on the streets of Asasuka when [name]'s engima pheromones kickstarted his heat unexpectedly.

Omega!Muzan who felt drawn to [name] and didn't kill him in that moment and instead kidnapped him

Omega!Muzan who was surprised when [name] apologized for kickstarting his heat cycle and agreed to help him through it because he didn't believe that someone of [name]'s rank would do something like that.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!

NSFW

Omega!Muzan who enjoys being in a mating press during his heats because it satisfies his more carnal needs.

Omega!Muzan who loves it when [name] bites him on his thighs, chest and neck

Omega!Muzan who is a bit of a brat when he's having sex and not in heat, but he's easy to manage for [name].

Omega!Muzan who loves dressing up in soft and expensive lingerie and blushes every time [name] presents him with another set.

Omega!Muzan who adores wearing [name]'s clothing while being fucked because it forces him to be able to only smell [name] during a session

Omega!Muzan who is brought to tears really easily when he's in heat.

#🩷.kny #🩵.dom reader #sub kny #kny smut #sub character #kny x you #smut #sub muzan #kny #dom reader #demon slayer #n/sfw #a/b/o #a/b/o verse #a/b/o au #omega muzan #enigma reader #alpha reader

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roadkillremi · 8 months

Note

HEY!! i have rq!! would u be willing to write abt poly! ghostface (if u dont write for that then do stu) summoning a succubus reader (fem pls!!) to help with the killings or them doing the ritual out of boredom while drunk/high??? PLS AND TY!!

Omg! Yes!!!!! I did some quick research and i hope you like it!!

(if you don't know what a succubus is, think of Jennifer's body. )

Searching

Poly!Billy and Stu x F!Succubus!Reader

MasterList

Summary : the ask above

Warning : MINORS DNI! "Demon ritual", mentions killing, underaged drinking, smut, p in V, unprotected, voyeurism, anal, creampie. characters are 18+

It was another night for Billy and Stu. They spent hours talking about girls and watching TV. They've both drunk any beer they could get their hands on. Stu was laughing at the TV even when it wasn't funny. Billy stared off into the distance as if he was distracted.

"Stu."

"hmm?" He glanced over wide eyed at Billy. Billy leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees.

"I saw this movie... Def by temptation..".

"here we go!" Stu laughed. Billy glared, "Have you heard of a succubus?". Stu shrugged, "Uh the demon girl? Like Lilith with Adam and eve??". Billy went silent, "My mom randomly takes the family to church okay?" Stu took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah okay. What if we tried to summon one?". Stu busted out laughing, "like that'd work!".

"Oh c'mon.. you're not scared..are ya?" Billy teased. Stu knitted his eyebrows, "No.". Billy smiled, "Where's your computer?".

"My dad's office." Stu said looking back at the tv. Billy stood up walking towards his dad's office. Stu looked over and jumped off the couch following him.

"So, we're actually doing this?" Stu asked. Billy kept walking opening the door to the office.

"Yes, Stu." Billy turned the computer on and sat in the office chair. Stu sighed leaning on the desk, "We gotta make this quick or my folks will be pissed about the computer bill.".

"calm down, Stuart." Billy grumbled as his typed quickly. Billy's eyes went wide, "Get chalk and five candles.". Billy signed off the internet and started writing on paper. Stu just stared, "Go!" Billy rushed. Stu left leaving Billy in the office alone.

Once Stu came back with what Billy asked , Billy had a pile of pillows in Stus room.

"What's this for?"

"Her.. it.." Billy took the chalk and drew a pentagram.

"light the candles." Billy muttered, Stu nodded lighting the candles. Billy placed them on the sides of the Pentagram. He then flipped up his hunting blade from his pocket. He sliced down his palm letting his blood hit the paper.

"Stu you gotta do it." Billy pushed the knife towards him. Stu sighed and cut his palm, "she better be hot.". Stu let his blood drip onto the paper.

"what now?" Stu asked looking at the paper.

"take off your clothes." Billy said as he took of his shirt. Stu smiled, "If you wanted to see me naked you could've just asked.". Billy rolled his eyes, he left his boxers on and sat down. Stu sat beside him and waited.

"So..." Stu whispered.

"shut up and relax dipshit." Billy mumbled. Stu nodded and tried to relax his body. Once the boys were fully relaxed the paper lit on fire turning into ashes. Stus eyes widen, "Did you..?" .

"No.." he whispered.

"Of course he didn't I did." You said softly. The boys jumped looking behind them. You smiled, you wore a small piece of black cloth covering your private bits.

"No fucking way..." Stu whispered. You smirked as you walked around his room.

"Was that beer laced?" Billy Whispered.

"I don't think so." Stu responded. You looked at them, "Billy.." you pointed at Billy.

"and Stu.. right?" You then pointed at Stu. The boys nodded, you grinned.

"So.. you boys are known as what the mortals call.. "Ghostface"?".

"How'd.. how'd you know?" Stu blurted. Billy elbowed him, you smiled and sat Infront of them.

"oh sweetie... I know everything.." you gently cup Stus face. Your fingers trail from his cheek to his chin. You smile and then look at Billy.

"Mm. You two don't know much about succubi do you?" You asked softly. They both shook their head.

"Well.. we live off of semen.. and in order for me to protect you we.. bond one might say." You got up again to study Stus room.

"then I'll help kill Sydney." You glance back at them. Stu nodded quickly, Billy just stared.

"How can we trust you?" He asked. You smiled walking towards him, you grabbed his chin making him look up at you.

"Oh Billy.. poor sweet Billy. It wasn't fair was it?... What they did to you. You were only 16 when you found out..". Billy didn't respond, you sat on your knees Infront of him leaning close.

"I won't abandon you.. all you gotta do is call.. and im there." You smile. Billy's eyes soften, "What if you're not?". You tilted your head, "I need you to survive.. both of you. What I need only.. you two can give me..". Billy smirked, "You have dark.. desires.." you whispered. You glanced at Stu, "And you.. you wanna.. be rough.. in way girls don't like.".

"So. The deal is I need semen to keep living. And you have that... Both of you. And i will help with your...chores.". You smile. The boys are silent, "Oh right. Both of you like being dominant.". You leaned back, "Don't be afraid.. I only bite if you want me to..".

Stu was the first to make a move, he leaned forward kissing you. You smiled and kissed him back, he slowly crawled on top of you. You laid back in the pile of pillows, he ran his hands all over your body. You glanced over at Billy who watched intensely.

"I think your friend likes watching you..." You whispered to Stu. He looked over at Billy and then smiled. He went back to kissing you and then your neck. Your head stayed to the side to watch Billy. He tilted his head slightly and leaned close to you.

"What exactly are you?.." Billy whispered. You smiled, "I'm the spawn of Satan herself.". Billy smirked and kissed you. Stu sat up looking down at you, "You're so.. sexy..". Billy also smiled down at you, he then leaned into Stu giving him a kiss. Stus hands slid up your body pushing the fabric up. The two boys stared down in amazement.

"What? I know you two aren't virgins." You smiled. Stus mouth was open slightly as he observed your body. Billy smirked and gently touched your thigh. You smiled as you felt the cold blade bump into your thigh. Billy balanced this blade away from you and watched Stu. Stus fingers slid through your folds.

"Whoa.." he took his fingers out showing how shiny they were. Billy smiled before sucking on Stus fingers. Stu laughed softly, you leaned on your elbows observing them. Billy looked over at you, "Can we tie you up?". You raised your eyebrow, "You can tie my wrists." You offered. He nodded grabbing something to tie them with. He went behind you tying your wrists together. He smiled to himself observing you.

"This is.. unreal.." he whispered. You smiled at him, "Well I'm real so get used to it.". Stu quickly shoved his member in you without warning. Your body jolted and you let out a moan.

"She so fucking wet." Stu moaned out. Billy smirked watching Stu push your thighs close to your head. He held onto them for support as he thrust himself. Billy made you look up at him, "Do you like him fucking you?". You smiled, "Mhm.. best sex I've had in years..".

"oh just you wait.." Billy leaned down to kiss you. Stu continued to pound himself into you abusing your pussy. His head hung low, "Shit!" He shouted. Billy looked over at him, "What?".

"I'm gonna come.. already.." he breathed heavily. You smiled, "Come inside me, baby.. I need you too so bad.". Stu moaned continuing to move forward until he released. His body collapsed on top of you, his head laid on your chest.

"That's the fastest I've ever came..." he whispered. You smirked, "I am a succubus." You reminded him. Billy looked down at Stu, "What if.. we both had her at once..". Stus eyes lit up, "I call ass.". Billy rolled his eyes and moved himself from behind you.

"Get up." He demanded Stu. Stu sat up taking himself out of you. Billy laid down, "Help her onto me..". Stu grabbed your arms and helped you get on top of him. You gently yanked your wrists seeing if you could get out of them. You couldn't.

Billy brought his member into your core as you sunk down. He grunted, "Shit..". Stu smiled widely pushing your body down. He spread your ass as he entered into you. He leaned back and grabbed your tied wrists as leverage.

"I gotta say... I never took two at once.." you admitted. Billy smiled at you, "Here that, Stu? We're her first threesome.". Stu laughs softly, "That's even better.". Billy began to thrust up matching Stus rhythm. Your face was buried into his neck softly moaning.

They continued to use your body for long lengths of time. They collectively came inside of your holes leaving them oozing with their come. You'd whine telling them it was getting to be too much at once. Billy laughed, "Can't handle us?".

You shook your head, "No.." you whined. He chuckled, "Aw.. she's so fucked out of it..". Stu laughed, "She tired from her holes being filled constantly. Did men from the past not fill you up this good?". You shook your head no, they two men laughed.

They untied your wrists and laid you down on the bed. Billy looked over at you, "When will we see you again.".

"Whenever you need me to kill someone..." you whisper. He nods, "Okay..".

"What if.. we miss you?" Stu adds in. You smiled, "Then I'll show up.". The two men nodded, you fluttered your eyes closed disappearing from the bed.

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abbyromanoff · 8 months

Note

Can I request an omegaverse where R is a beta but when she meets Alpha! Agatha, R’s body changes and become in omega! R?

Please 🥺

SAY YES TO HEAVEN

PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,832

WARNINGS: ABO universe, smut, car sex, handjobs, breeding, multiple orgasms, creampies, marking, possessiveness, praise, degrading, think that’s all :))

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Agatha never intended to fall in love with someone like you, someone who wasn’t part of her kind. You were a beta, failing to fit in with the majority of society and often finding yourself as an outcast to most, but that only seemed to make your girlfriend fall harder.

You tried to understand what her role as an Alpha meant and the fact that she was destined to be with an Omega, something you weren’t but now wish you could be. She wasn’t like any of the Alpha’s you came across, she cared about more than sex and saw you as a human being, not just a piece of meat to use and throw away once she was done.

But eventually, over the course of nine months, you noticed changes in your body. It started out small when you noticed a growing heat in your lower region, but you assumed it was natural. Then when she was stroking your face, her fingers pumping deep inside of you, an almost purr-like noise left your gaping mouth. You could tell the effect it had on her as well, she had been waiting to hear her partner release such sounds of pleasure.

Then came the need, it was more than ever before, even looking in the woman’s eyes caused a throb to erupt on your clit. What was happening? You didn’t know, which meant you did the only logical thing and visited your doctor.

Agatha offered to take you to the appointment after you informed her of your emotions and physicalities as of late. She had been sensing it too, your smell felt like it was pulling her in, and the urge to claim you as hers only grew.

“It’s going to be alright, my love. If anything happens I’ll be right there with you.” Her words and sweet smile seemed to ease the shaking of your leg before a knocking was placed on the door. The older woman stepped through with what seemed to be an irritated look, she must’ve had a long day, you thought.

“So, tell me, Y/N, what seems to be the problem today?” Came her voice after a few minutes of small talk. A blood-pressure pump was wrapped around your arm and had been squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting off your circulation before you slowly gained it back after release.

“Well, uhm,” Agatha gave you a reassuring look. “I’ve been noticing- the both of us have, actually that there seems to be a change in my body lately and I don’t really know what to do or what it could mean.” You explained, receiving a hum from the doctor as she continued to type on her laptop.

“Mm, and your wife here- is she also a beta?” You blushed at the title she gave your girlfriend and noticed she shared the same reaction.

“Uh, my girlfriend is not a beta, no. She’s actually an alpha.” Her eyebrows rose before shaking it off, but you were used to the reaction, it wasn’t considered normal to see a pair like you together.

“Alright, I think it’s best if I perform a thorough exam, just to be safe. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll be right back.”

The rest of the exam went considerably well, but it almost pained your partner seeing the professional place their hands on your body, on her body. You were hers, it felt almost predatory how much possessiveness could be caused by such a small act.

But when the painfully long wait finally came to an end, you were greeted with the news you had been starting to expect, your body was developing to match your mate’s, you were forming the traits of an omega.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually much more common than you think.” The doctor tried to persuade you, but your mind was still swirling a mile a minute. When earning nothing but silence from your end, Agatha spoke for you.

“Uh, thank you, Miss, we appreciate your help.” She left with a nod and the two of you soon left after her, Agatha secretly smiling to herself as she opened the car door for you.

“You know, it’s really not that bad if you think about it.” There were barely any cars in the parking lot besides yours, most likely because they were nearing closing hours.

“Are you really that upset about this?” She didn’t understand why you kept your head in your hands while leaning forward, did you not want to be her omega?

“I’m not upset, I’m just-” You couldn’t finish as a small whine left you, not quite quiet enough to slip by her listening ears.

“Then tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby.” She tried to bring herself closer to you in hopes of getting a hold of you, only to feel your lips being placed on hers in a hurry. You used both hands to grasp harshly at her cheeks, already starting to climb over the dashboard as you found comfort on her lap.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been needing you so bad this week. I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have your marking, to finally be your omega.” You kissed hastily down her neck and near her jawline, letting yourself leave purple hints that some may suspect were bruises, luckily, purple was her favorite color.

“And then she told me what I’ve been waiting to hear, and I knew I just needed to have you as soon as possible.” Your arms wrapped around her shoulders as your hips started a grinding motion, all previous nerves disappearing as you got lost in a trance of overwhelming pleasure.

“There- someone could see us…” She mumbled, not being able to stop the moans that flew out of her. You were coming in perfect contact with her length, she was becoming just as desperate as you.

“I don’t fucking care, let them see. I thought you wanted people to know I’m yours, has that changed?” Your head was thrown back as her hands came in contact with your waist, causing the pace you started to quicken to her liking.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” The way your name spilled out of her mouth in a haunting whisper sent shivers down your spine and caused goosebumps to erupt over your entire being. Your chuckle drove her mad as she pressed her mouth against your exposed neck, leaving stains of her lipstick across the layers of your skin.

“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out, hm?” Your nimble fingers trailed down to her pants that were harboring a small wet patch. You reached for her belt and untangled it loosely, tossing it in the back before unzipping her khakis. She decided to help you and lifted her hips before lowering her bottoms, her erect cock coming to show and you nearly drooled at the sight.

“I need you inside me so fucking bad, you have no idea.” You stroked her rapidly, feeling her pre-cum drench your hand.

“That’s it, just like that.” She whimpered soundlessly, almost inaudible.

“Oh, yes! Y- you’re doing such a good job, such a good fucking girl.” You smirked teasingly before leaving a lingering kiss on her lips, letting her chase back in hopes of feeling you once again.

“Aren’t I giving you enough? Or is this not enough for your greedy little cock?” You fauxed a pout of sympathy, laughing to yourself when she thrusted into your enclosed hand.

“Awh, it’s so cute seeing you like this, so needy and distressed. I think I know how to fix that.” You brought her fingers against your inner thigh, slowly dragging it closer and closer to your heat. Feeling you through your tight jeans wasn’t enough, she felt as though she would die if she couldn’t feel you.

“Get in the back,” She stated firmly. “Now!” You nodded, a sudden act of submission that brought you by surprise. She followed soon after, smiling as you started discarding yourself of your clothing.

“You’re so perfect, and all fucking mine.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple, the bud hardening the harsher she sucked.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” It wasn’t a request as it was a statement. Her mouth fell upon your neglected breast as she lined herself up with your entrance, there was no need for foreplay as you were already dripping, it nearly brought shame seeing just how wet you were.

“Please, please- ah! Oh, God!” Her face contorted into pleasure as your warmth surrounded her, she felt like she was going to collapse at any given moment.

“Shh, the only one who gets to hear your moans is me, you got that?” You nodded, unable to form words as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Her head stuck in your neck as she cried, sensing her orgasm approaching. The previous acts only edged her further, but now with your walls clamping around her, she knew there was no hope in stopping herself.

“So fucking tight! Oh, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum inside you. Can I cum, baby?” You could hear the pure want and desire looming in her breath and knew you couldn’t deny her.

“Yeah, just- please cum inside me, I want your pups, Aggie.” Your breasts were pressed together and your legs wrapped around her ass, pressing her closer into you in hopes she’d be able to thrust even deeper.

“C’mon, Alpha, give me your pups.” Her release emptied deep inside of you, causing you to groan in satisfaction. She painted your walls white and you enjoyed every second of it, and so did she.

“You feel so good, I need more.” She didn’t halt her movements, no matter the overwhelming shock that coursed through her veins.

“You’re gonna cum with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yeah.” She pulled herself up and grasped onto your hips, pulling you in even further as your legs clenched even tighter around her.

“You see that? That’s how deep I am inside of your needy little cunt.” She pressed against the bulge appearing on your stomach with a wicked grin, pulling you by the back of your neck so your vision lined up with her. You moaned at the sight, reaching out to interlace her hand with yours on the newfound interest.

“Shit, you’re so deep.” There was no warning when her cum shot deep inside of you, some oozing out and dripping down to your butt. You took it as permission to let go, soaking in the orgasmic state you shared.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted, my love, you’re gonna look so precious carrying my babies.” You connected your lips in a hungry kiss, refusing to pull away until you both were gasping for air.

“I- I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop, you don’t know how badly I want to mark you right now.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x female reader smut #agatha harkness x reader fluff #agatha harkness x reader angst #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 5 months

Text

Dancing Lights

Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, he’s forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.

Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending

Word Count: 12.7k

Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). There’s also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile

Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute you’re walking behind him and the next minute you’re gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and you’re not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He can’t lose you, not now.

Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.

“General,” Wolffe shouts over the storm.

“Yes, commander?” Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.

“We’ve lost one of the… men,” Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and he’s not in the mood for a lecture. “They appear to be lost in the storm.”

“Have you attempted to make contact?” Plo Koon asks.

“Yes, sir,” Wolffe answers. “Multiple times, sir, with no success.”

Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. “That is a predicament.”

“Sir,” Wolffe begins in a serious tone, “with your permission, I want to go after them.”

“That would be ill-advised, commander,” Plo Koon answers. “The storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.”

“But sir,” Wolffe argues. “We can’t afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.”

Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. “Attachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.”

Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. “I don’t believe in leaving men behind, sir.”

Plo Koon’s facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “Neither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.”

The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalion’s morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.

“With all due respect, sir,” Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. “I am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.”

Plo Koon considers Wolffe’s words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.

“However,” Plo Koon continues. “We cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.”

“I understand,” Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.

“And Wolffe,” Plo Koon adds quickly. “Come back safely. Both of you.”

Wolffe doesn’t answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or it’s the last thing he’ll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE he’s been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he won’t need. Traveling light is a must.

Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinker’s hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.

With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. There’s no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least he’s moving.

As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? He’s not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.

After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.

Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we can’t locate you like this, then he’ll be forced to make a drastic move.

Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether it’s a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesn’t have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.

As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if it’s just a momentary lull. Again, he doesn’t have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows you’re in there. You’re smart. Of course, you’d try to find shelter.

Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that he’s not too late and that he can find you still alive. As he’s standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and he’s not in the mood to deal with that.

He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesn’t have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. They’re coming, a lot of them, and he doesn’t want to be here when they arrive.

Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesn’t care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.

Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. That’s when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.

“Cyare,” Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. There’s barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.

You stir and make a small grunting noise.

Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. They’re getting closer and he’s running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.

Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. “Cyare,” he calls a little louder.

You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffe’s familiar bucket staring at you. “Wolffe?”

“It’s me,” he says.

“You found me!” you exclaim with excitement.

Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. “I found you.”

The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, it’s not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. “Pack up,” he orders. “We have to go. Now.”

You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffe’s lead and begin rolling up the blanket. “What’s the hurry? The storm–”

“They’re coming,” Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.

“Who’s coming?” you ask in confusion. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.

“We don’t have time for me to explain!” Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.

You’re slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, it’s that he doesn’t mess around, especially when it has to do with someone’s safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that they’re quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.

Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. “Wolffe, stop!” you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. “Let go!”

Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that you’ll forgive him later for his roughness when you’re both safe. He doesn’t have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesn’t help his cause, but then again, they don’t need to hear you in order to find you. It’s already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.

You continue to struggle against Wolffe’s grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesn’t give you one. He doesn’t even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffe’s arm on the way down.

Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Wolffe!” you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. “I can’t keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.”

Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. “I need you to get up.”

“I told you, I can’t!” you argue.

Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. “I need you to get up. Now.”

His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that you’ve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.

You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesn’t move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you don’t, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.

“It’s too late,” he says in a hushed tone.

“Too late?” you ask as your voice quivers. “Too late for what?”

Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didn’t want to happen. The scenario he’s played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.

Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. “Do you trust me?”

You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. “Always,” you answer.

Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?”

You look into his eyes and nod your head. “I understand.”

“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like he’s trying to ingrain it in your body. “Don’t move a single inch, no matter what happens.”

You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what he’s doing, so you go along with it. “I won’t move. I promise.”

Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. “Good girl.”

You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You can’t help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Wolffe whispers against your hand.

You smile. “I know.”

Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment he’s allowed to have with you. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and that’s what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.

An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and what’s left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters won’t help him here either, not against a full pack.

The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it weren’t for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldn’t even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books you’ve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.

The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesn’t have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, he’s reluctant. Without an explanation, he’s not sure how you will react to what he’s about to do, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.

To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until he’s only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why he’d take his armor off during a situation like this. He’ll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.

“Remember what I said?” Wolffe asks.

“No moving,” you answer. “But Wolffe–”

Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. “Trust me.”

You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.

Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffe’s fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesn’t make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and what’s left behind is a wolf.

“Wolffe?” you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.

Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.

“You’re a… wolf,” you stutter in shock.

You’re stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you weren’t expecting this. You stare at his new form, a man’s body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. He’s a wolf, there’s no mistake about it. You can’t help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.

Quite the show, the Alpha says.

Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.

The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.

Wolffe snorts. Been a time.

The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.

As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that it’s much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. You’re not sure why, but that’s the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You can’t hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesn’t mean much to you.

Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!

Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. I’m only observing.

Not pup, Wolffe growls.

No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?

Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.

The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. You’re rather small for an alpha.

Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.

It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.

The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?

Wolffe’s fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.

Odd choice… the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?

Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, it’s written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he can’t put the words together.

Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another pack’s territory is an offense punishable by death.

Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.

The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.

Wolffe’s ears twitch.

You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and we’ll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.

Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.

The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. You’re not sure what they’re doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasn’t said a word to you. Your best guess is that he can’t talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.

You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.

Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.

The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffe’s eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.

Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.

The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.

Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.

You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.

Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.

You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. You’re still unsure about what’s going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what he told you to do and that’s what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each other’s necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.

The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Wolffe!” you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffe’s order not to move.

A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.

As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear. There’s blood on Wolffe’s muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.

Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!

The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?

Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each other’s necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffe’s beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.

The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You don’t know what started the fight, you don’t know the rules, and you don’t know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.

Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isn’t at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, it’s better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the ‘Wolfpack’, but he’s no alpha.

You want to cry. You don’t know how long the fight has been going on, but you’re getting sick of it. You know you’re not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They can’t stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble you’re willing to take, because you can’t lose him like this. “Wolffe!” you yell. “Wolffe, get up!”

Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his mesh’la, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows you’re trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.

Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Won’t lose. My mate. My pup.

The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.

The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.

Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. He’s not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.

The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.

Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, it’s strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Don’t lose it.

Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.

You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.

Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.

And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You don’t know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffe’s nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.

“Can you turn back?” you ask. “To a human?”

Too weak, he answers, but his voice won’t reach your ears.

You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, you’re not sure what to do. You don’t know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, you’re on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffe’s head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.

Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and bury your face in his soft fur. “You saved us. Thank you.”

Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffe’s armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.

Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, it’s Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.

You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. It’s not as if it will fit on his head.

If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.

You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.

Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.

His sudden outburst startles you. “I don’t know what you want me to do!” you snap at him.

Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffe’s vantage point, but it should get the point across.

“Oh,” you realize. “You want me to wear it.”

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.

You situate his bucket on your head, but it’s too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what you’re going to do. It’s probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just don’t know it.

“How do you see out of this thing?” you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.

Wolffe can’t smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.

You watch Wolffe’s reaction to your comment and wonder. “Can you understand me?” you ask.

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.

“We can work with that,” you think out loud. “We need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?”

Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.

“Well, that was easy,” you breathe.

Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolf’s body. At least, that’s what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You don’t have any way to confirm that theory, but you can’t imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.

Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.

“Hey!” you turn around and exclaim. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!”

Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.

You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. There’s no way you would’ve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.

You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffe’s tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him that it’s towards shelter. Well, that’s what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you don’t have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but it’s better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. It’s when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, you’ll get buried in the snow and he can’t let that happen.

Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you don’t budge. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still won’t move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.

Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.

He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.

We’re so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! That’s an order!

He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.

Don’t make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.

He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but he’ll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.

You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.

The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since you’re laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. He’s biting you. He’s eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. You’re scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid he’ll rip it off.

“Get off me!” you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. “I’m not your dinner!”

Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. I’m sorry.

You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. “You bit me!”

Regret washes over him at your reaction. I’m so sorry.

“Why?” you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You don’t understand. All of those sweet promises he’s whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you he’d never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and you’re bleeding. “Why would you do that?”

Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he can’t. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. It’s the worst-case scenario, but he’d rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.

You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didn’t wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesn’t make the wound hurt any less, and you’ll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when you’re both safe.

You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once you’re up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, it’s a miracle you’ve even gotten this far.

When you’re ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffe’s tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. It’s not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and you’re so thankful that he’s with you. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.

You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure it’s safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know it’s safe for you to enter.

With Wolffe’s nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It won’t throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.

Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you can’t. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. There’s a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. It’s not much, but it’s enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.

Finally able to relax, you take Wolffe’s bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. You’re not sure how he’s still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.

“Come here,” you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.

Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.

Once you’re done with Wolffe’s wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.

Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. It’s his fault that you’re bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “That hurts!”

Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didn’t mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. I’m sorry, cyare.

You look at how sad he is and sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, there’s no use in staying angry at him, not when he’s already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. “Good boy.”

Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. It’s not the best job you’ve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffe’s pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.

You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he can’t drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. There’s no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesn’t take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffe’s nose and pour the canteen of water into it.

Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesn’t need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, it’s easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. You’re a little surprised, but you’re not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. “Well, those aren’t going to last long.”

When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesn’t catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. It’s more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.

You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it can’t be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffe’s you’ve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.

After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. It’s peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if he’s fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking it’s best for you to get some sleep as well. You’re exhausted.

You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.

You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. “Can I…” you fidget with the edge of the blanket. “Can I lay on you?”

Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.

You giggle at his response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesn’t care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. He’ll gladly be your pillow and he’s happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when he’s in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolf’s body, but his heart is his own.

You situate yourself between Wolffe’s legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s him you’re laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffe’s soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.

When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you don’t want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but he’s no longer a wolf, he’s human. He’s also completely naked. Realizing that he’s going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.

You're glad he’s back to normal. You weren’t sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.

It’s not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good night’s sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.

“Cyare,” Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that he’s back to his human form.

“It’s me,” you giggle.

“You can understand me?” Wolffe asks in confusion.

“You’re you again,” you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. “See? No fur.”

Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. “Must have changed back in my sleep.”

“Yeah, about that…” you say, trying to segue into the obvious.

Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” you counter while sitting down next to him. “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but he’d rather not. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” you say with folded arms.

A shiver runs up Wolffe’s spine and he realizes he’s naked. “Can I have my blacks first?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. “Sorry about that.”

Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.

“Wolffe,” you say knowingly.

“Hm?” he mumbles into your neck.

“You’re stalling,” you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.

Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you won’t let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so you’re facing him. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Tell me everything.”

Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.

“It was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.”

Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.

“During the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.”

You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.

“Then I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. I’d never seen something like that before.”

You chuckle at Wolffe’s descriptions.

“You find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a ‘strong heart’ and a ‘wise mind’, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.”

You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.

“Then it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.”

You snort.

“That was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. That’s how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spirit’s been inside me ever since.”

“You can’t get rid of it?” you ask. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not that I know of,” Wolffe shrugs. “It’ll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you say.

Wolffe tilts his head to the side. “It does?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer.

“So, you believe me?” Wolffe asks.

“Of course,” you say with a small laugh. “There’s no reason not to. Besides, there’s lots of things in this galaxy that we don’t know about, and wolf spirits now aren’t one of them.”

Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.

“Hungry?” Wolffe asks.

“A little,” you answer while getting off his lap.

You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffe’s pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesn’t eat it.

“You can have mine,” Wolffe says.

You cross your arms. “You need to eat.”

“I can wait,” he says.

“You're injured,” you argue. “You need energy to recover.”

“I have reserves,” he retorts.

“Wolffe,” you huff. “I’m not arguing with you. Eat the bar.”

“I said, no,” he says sternly.

“Fine,” you say as you put your coat on. “Then I’ll go find you something to eat.”

Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. “What is your problem all of a sudden?”

“I’ll go out and find us some food,” he says.

“You’re injured!” you exclaim. “If you transform back into a wolf, you’re going to break open your wound!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says.

“Well, I’m not,” you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.

Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. “You’re staying in this cabin and that’s an order.”

“Wolffe, I swear to the Maker, you can’t just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!” you exclaim.

“Too bad,” he says.

You fume and try to push past him. “Get out of my way!”

Wolffe groans. “Stop fighting me!”

“Stop telling me what to do!” you yell.

Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. “What do I have to do, huh?” he asks. “Tie you up?”

“Maybe,” you sneer.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?!” he exclaims.

“Because,” you begin, “you’re not making the best decision for the two of us!”

Wolffe’s patience snaps. “Only because I’m trying to make the best decision for the three of us!”

You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. “Three?”

Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didn’t want to say.

“Wolffe,” you ask slowly. “What do you mean by three?”

Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. “You’re pregnant.”

You gasp in shock. “What– How– When– How do you know that?”

Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. “It started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.”

You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.

Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. “I wasn’t going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. I’m sorry. It would’ve been difficult to explain.”

You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant?”

Wolffe nods his head. “Yeah.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.

Wolffe isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. “That’s why you gave me your rations and why you didn’t want me to leave.”

Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. “Exactly,” he sighs. “I was worried about the baby.”

You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he answers.

Wolffe removes his blacks, since it’s the only pair he has and he doesn’t want to ruin them, then hands them to you. “Here, they should smell like me now.”

You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.

Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.

Now that you’ve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything he’s done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didn’t even know about. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. You’re body hasn’t changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.

You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.

You throw Wolffe’s top blacks over your head, so you don’t have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. It’s a little dusty, but it’ll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.

Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isn’t much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you can’t tell how long he’s actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.

You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure he’s still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and he’s sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and it’s hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. It’s red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.

“Wolffe,” you say. “I need you to get up for me.”

Wolffe groans.

“Come on,” you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. “You’re too heavy for me. I need you to help me.”

Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. It’s a struggle, and you wish he would’ve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess it’s better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.

Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. It’s better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.

You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe calls in between pants.

You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. “Don’t be. You took good care of me, of us. Now it’s my turn.”

Wolffe doesn’t respond, but you know he would if he could. What’s important now is that he gets rest.

After a little while, you check on the weird soup you’re trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think it’s thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the ‘broth’ and you’re not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.

Once you’re both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. He’s shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. It’s not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you can’t let him do that, not when he’s sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.

The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffe’s fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if it’ll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that you’ve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.

Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffe’s fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didn’t bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that you’re glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your baby’s life, which makes you love him even more.

Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. It’s still dark outside, but there’s a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffe’s chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It won’t be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.

As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. It’s just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. He’s happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.

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uvobreakmylegs · 10 months

Text

Treasure Hunt

wrote this back in April for my awesome friend @ramwrites’s birthday and she said it was cool for me to post so everyone can read :D

always happy to write Uvo for ya ❤️

Warnings: abo, mentions of kidnapping, blood, mentions of death, implied smut, Uvogin is an unrelenting bastard and that’s the way me and Ram like him

Word count: 6.4k

Uvogin caught the scent unexpectedly as it reached his nose by way of an errant wind. A scent that, despite how faint it was, made him stop in his tracks. It was the scent of another being, but as he focused on it, it didn't smell like any scent he was aware of. Not that of an alpha like himself, or that of a beta or any of the other ranks. It was a scent completely different.

It didn't take him long to realize what that meant:

He'd stumbled across the scent of an omega.

Uvogin turned in the direction where the wind had come from and saw that the scent had likely come from the forested area just beyond the trail he'd been traveling on. A dense forest with a few mountains in the distance; a place no doubt crawling with all sorts of creatures and therefore, a place that would be ideal to hide if one were an omega, as the scents from the wildlife and plantlife alike would help hide the unique scent.

Though clearly not this time. The omega must have strayed too far near the well-traveled path and allowed the wind to carry their scent out. A few minutes earlier or later, perhaps it wouldn't have been a problem.

But today luck was favoring Uvogin, the wind bringing the scent to him right as he was walking by on the path just outside of the forests boundaries.

For an omega's scent to be in a place like that, it likely meant that they were in hiding.

And if they were in hiding, surely it meant that they were unmarked and unmated.

Though he had no evidence for thinking that, it seemed reasonable enough to assume, though ultimately he had no clue unless he went and investigated for himself. But it would be worthwhile if there was a lone omega living within that forest.

So Uvo stepped off the path, heading towards the dense trees while he hoped that the scent would lead him to a prize worth having.

It turned out that following the scent took him in deeper than he had anticipated. Evidently the omega hadn't done anything as foolish as straying too close to the path beyond – the winds today had simply been too strong and had carried the scent further than expected.

But the further in he got, the stronger the scent was becoming, and he felt the anticipation growing every minute. At this point, even if the omega did turn out to be mated to another, Uvogin probably wouldn't walk away. He wanted the omega now, and if he needed to kill the mate to have them for himself, then so be it.

Then he heard a rustling in the distance, and he stopped.

There had been plenty of animal life within the forest that he had come across while hunting down the source of the scent, all of which had turned and run in the opposite direction the instant they saw him coming, the deer, foxes, rabbits and the like that ran away to hide from him as they recognized him as being a danger to them. Being a hunter, Uvogin was used to these types of animals he encountered, and he could recognize the sounds of their feet as they treaded lightly over the ground, identifying which was which from those noises alone.

What he heard ahead of him was no wild animal. From his ear alone, he could tell it was a person.

He moved quietly, taking note of the forest floor in front of him before setting his foot back down. If he was correct in thinking that the omega was in hiding, then they would no doubt run the instant they saw him. He took note of the direction of the wind as well, moving so the wind would be blowing against him and not bring his own scent to the omega and alert them.

Uvo took a few more quiet steps until he was able to move around a large tree and could see past it.

Peering around the edge, he finally saw the omega.

You.

You were kneeling on the ground, your sleeves pulled up to your elbows as you dug around in the earth before you. You were pulling up.... A root of some sort. One that was dark green in color.

Glancing towards a satchel that he noticed was sitting behind you, he saw that it held roots that looked similar to the one you'd just pulled out. Though there weren't very many in the bag, and when he looked back to you, he saw a frown form on your face as you seemed dissatisfied with the size of the one in your hand.

…. Ah.

Uvogin had heard of it before – muting ones scent by covering up the scent glands. It seemed there were a few different ways of doing it, either by way of natural home-made remedies or ones created more recently by those who were trying to make a business out of it.

He himself had never used anything like that – he had seen no purpose in it. But he had heard of those who used those remedies for one reason or another, feeling some sort of need to hide the scent that gave their rank away.

The only times he'd heard of omegas using such things was after they were discovered to have been omegas, when they had run out of the ingredients for their remedies or when something had failed with the remedies they had bought and the omega scent coming out at the worst time. And afterwards, the omega would quickly vanish.

Very rarely, he had heard, was it that the omega had left on their own accord.

Uvo was inclined to say that you had a bit more sense than the omegas that tried to live a normal life by muting their scents and blending into society – you must have known that it would only be a matter of time before you would be discovered as an omega if you had gone down that route. You had done the exact opposite, living in hiding on your own and away from the rest of society.

And he was certain that you were on your own. Now that he was so close to you, he was able to take in your scent better, and there was nothing else lingering on you aside from your natural scent as an omega and an earthy scent that clung to your clothing.

You twisted yourself to put the root in the satchel with the others, and the action caused the collar of your dress to move out of the way, allowing him to see the bare skin around your neck and shoulders.

Unmarked.

Unmated.

Living alone in the forest.

Waiting for a worthy alpha to find and claim you.

And that alpha was him.

That thought had him stepping out from behind the tree fully, this time not bothering to be careful of the noise he made – he wanted you to know he was there.

You noticed immediately.

Your head snapped towards him and you tensed up, your expression becoming grim as you saw him. Then he watched you attempt to subtly sniff at the air. You were trying to find out what he was, he quickly realized. But with the wind blowing away from him combined with the distance, you weren't able to catch his scent.

He grinned.

“You wanna know what I am?” Uvogin asked.

You only tensed further at that question, and when he raised his arms, he saw you slowly move your feet underneath you while your hands moved down to the ground below.

You were preparing to break out into a run.

Uvo wasn't too concerned about that at the moment as he brought his hand up to the arm he had raised, pressing his thumbnail against the skin of his arm.

You seemed confused at that.

With the slightest bit of pressure, he managed to break the skin of his arm, and he slid the nail down to make the cut bigger before he pulled his hand away.

The wound was shallow, but blood still began to drip down his skin.

The scent of blood was always strong no matter the rank, and as the blood continued to drip down his arm and onto the forest floor below, your eyes widened as his alpha scent finally reached you.

The wind blew past you once again, and this time Uvo could smell the fear that came from you.

You ran.

You turned and launched yourself from where you were sitting, running away from him while leaving your satchel of roots behind. Uvogin watched as you ran. You outrunning him didn't seem like a possibility so he felt no need to go after you immediately. If you were going to be difficult about this, he'd let you flounder a bit before taking you. It would leave more of an impact on you if he allowed you to think that you had almost managed to get away from him before he collected you.

Then he noticed something odd.

Just before you were out of his sight completely, you turned your head back to look at him. When you saw that he hadn't moved from that spot next to the tree, your eyebrows furrowed.

And though you were still running away, Uvogin saw that your pace slowed ever so slightly.

As if you didn't want to get too far ahead of him.

….. Why would you want that?

Uvogin stayed where he was, listening to the sounds of your feet running across the foliage while you went at your slower pace.

As much as he wanted to say that it was your omega instincts causing you to become conflicted over what you wanted, it didn't feel like that was happening. He could tell when you looked at him that you feared him, and finding out that he was an alpha had only made that fear worse. Yet from the brief glance you'd given him and the way your pace had slowed told him that you wanted him to follow you.

Once again, he asked himself why you would want that.

Uvo brought his thumb to his mouth, licking at the blood on his nail before he smiled to himself.

It was something to keep in mind. But right now it was best that he begin to pursue you.

So he started to walk, making a point to step on your satchel of roots before he followed the path you had taken. Even without the scent that lingered in the air, yours was an easy trail to follow: you hadn't taken any heed to your surroundings as you ran, and you had caused damage to the forest around you in the form of broken branches and upturned dirt. Anyone would've been able to follow that.

But again he wondered if that was what you wanted.

With his long stride, it didn't take Uvo long to come across you again. This time you were down in a gulch, one hand on the side of the rock as your eyes looked over the trees of the forest, trying to see where he would come from.

There was an opening in the side of the gulch where you were standing, he realized, and when you saw him, you ran again, this time running into the wide opening.

He stopped once again, assessing the situation he'd found himself in.

You were trying to lead him into a trap.

Of that, he was certain.

Why else would you be waiting for him long enough so he would see you enter that cave? If your goal had truly been to get away from him, you would've entered that cave as soon as possible, not stand around waiting for him.

So you wanted him to follow you down into the cave. And if he were to guess, you wanted him to follow so you could kill him. That was the way it felt to him.

So then, what was his move now that he knew that?

Uvo wasn't letting you go, so there were no thoughts of giving up on you. Putting his patience to the test and waiting for you to come out on your own was an option, though after thinking on it for a few moments he decided against it. Without knowing what the layout of the cave was, he had no clue if there was a second opening. Sitting around and waiting could give you the time you needed to get a head start in escaping him.

Which meant that his only remaining option was to go in after you.

A risky decision, as he still had no clue what the inside looked like, but in reality, it only excited Uvo a little bit.

And ultimately, how could one like you do anything of significance to him?

Your scent was stronger when he bent down to enter the cave – a sign that you came here frequently. Whatever this place was, it likely served as your home.

The entrance opened up into a hallway that was large enough that he could stand without needing to bend his head down, though his hair managed to brush against the stone up top.

This was an odd place, he noted.

There was lighting in the hallway, coming from what appeared to be glowing stones embedded into the rock. And as he walked down the hall, he noted the areas within the walls that appeared to have been doorways at one point but were now sealed up with smaller stones.

As curious as he was as to the history of this place and why certain areas were blocked off, he turned his attention back to his main objective: getting you. And as he looked to the end of the long hallway, he could see you waiting for him on the other side of a room.

This was definitely a trap.

And when he got closer to the room where you stood, he smelled something other than your scent, something that almost managed to overpower yours completely:

The smell of old, dead blood that permeated from the room.

Uvogin paused when he reached the doorway and looked over the new area. You were still standing before him but now looking like you would run down the hallway behind you. There was also a set of levers on the side of the wall behind you, and as he looked over the room itself, he was starting to get an idea as to what those levers were for.

The walls and floor were covered in blood. All of it long since dried up and there were some clear attempts at washing it away, but the sight and scent still remained. There were particular areas where the blood was most prominent: at the center of the walls to his left and right, and the very center of the floor. All of those points had very large, very clear stains of blood that had spread out far over the surface and was the main source of the mixture of different blood scents that almost overwhelmed him. There was a bit of cloth on the floor as well, and while the rest of the floor had other varying sizes of cloth strewn about, the rest of them looked as if they had been set there so the one at the center wouldn't look out of place.

And through the mess of cloth and bloodstains, there was one last thing Uvogin spotted on the stone floor: several lines carved into the surface, as though something heavy had been moved over it repeatedly.

….. Ah. So that was what this was.

Uvo smirked to himself and stepped inside.

You reacted immediately by stepping back into the hall and pulling down one of the levers. The result was a barrier of metal bars that came down from the ceiling before you and blocked the entrance of the second hall.

He hummed and took another step forward, at which you pulled a second lever.

A loud noise sounded from behind him, and when he looked back, he found bars similar to the ones that separated you from him had blocked off the entrance behind him.

“Oh? Was your plan just to trap me?” he asked, “gonna teach me a lesson by turning the tables and capturing me?”

That question got you to finally speak.

“No. You're not worth keeping alive,” you answered bluntly.

“You wound me,” Uvo answered sarcastically, “so then what are you gonna do?”

“Get rid of you, just like every other arrogant alpha that came after me with the expectation that I'd roll over and let them do with me as they pleased,” you answered, “all of you who come after me are the same, too busy thinking with your dicks and using your primal instincts as an excuse.”

“An excuse for what?”

“An excuse to rid yourself of any responsibility for why you go after omegas in the way you do,” you said, “because it's easier to shift the blame on instinct, right?”

Uvogin waited a moment as he processed your words, and then he grinned at you.

“I'm not sure what bullshit has been spouted at you by other alphas that you trapped, but I couldn't care less about blaming my actions on anything,” he said, “I've come after you because you're mine. Why would I make an excuse for collecting my mate?”

“You can keep those bars down if you like,” he added, “I've got no issue breaking those apart to get to you.”

From the way your brows furrowed, his speech had managed to perturb you, yet you still scoffed at his last sentence.

“As if I'd even give you the chance to try and get to me,” you said.

“Gonna crush me to death before that, huh?”

You blinked in surprise.

“You've figured out this room already?”

“It's pretty obvious from the marks left behind in the floor,” Uvo answered, “what else could leave grooves like that in stone?”

Now at the center of the room, Uvogin pushed away the cloth at his feet with his foot, revealing the panel you had hidden that would no doubt trigger the mechanism to activate the trap in the room. He then looked to the third lever that sat next to you on the wall and the way your hand twitched as you anticipated needing to pull it.

“The walls will crush me if I step on this plate or you pull that, then?” he asked.

“... Yeah.”

Your expression turned grim when he said that.

“Oh? Why so upset? Don't you have me where you want me?” Uvo asked mockingly.

“You think I want to do this?” you asked back, “because I don't. I hate killing people, but if I don't get rid of the people who find me, they keep coming back to try and take me. I can't have peace as long as you alphas know where I am. So I need to get rid of you.”

You let out a shaky breath as you said “I hate it every time this happens, but you leave me no choice. We wouldn't be here if you would just leave me alone.”

Uvo raised an eyebrow as he asked “now who's shifting blame?”

You glared at him.

“I don't think I'm gonna feel much regret over ending you,” you said.

“You'll find that to be harder to do than you think.”

You sighed.

“Another tired alpha line. You're just like the rest.”

“I'm nothing like other alphas,” Uvo countered.

“You're exactly like the rest of them.”

With that, you lifted your hand up to the lever. Your eyes were averted as you did so.

Before you reached the lever Uvogin stepped on the plate before him.

The shock on your face was clear as you looked to him in the few seconds he had before the walls closed in.

He winked at you.

The walls shot forward with the intent of reaching one another and crushing him completely. But just before they reached him he lifted his arms-

And slammed his fists against the walls.

What followed was a series of loud noises, the sounds of stone breaking apart and the mechanics of the walls dislodging as a greater force pushed back against them. Dust and fragments of stone flew into the air that briefly clouded everything, and the room shook so much that you needed to brace yourself against one of the walls for fear of falling over.

It took you a moment for you to understand what just happened.

Once the noises stopped, the dust settled and the shaking ended was when you looked back to him.

Uvogin stood triumphantly in the center of the destruction. And once again he grinned when your eyes met his.

Uvo was feeling good about himself. In the place where others had met their end, he had been the one to beat your trap. Now you couldn't deny that he was nothing like any others who had gone after you. And perhaps this might be enough to convince you that fighting this was useless.

Although maybe not. You seemed to be the stubborn type.

At the moment, however, your shock had turned to fear as you looked at him through the bars, your eyes looking over the destruction he had caused before inevitably going back to him. It was the same fear he had caught wind of when he had first approached you, but this time it was far greater.

Terror and a sense of hopelessness was beginning to settle in. That there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Yet when he stepped forward you took in a sharp breath before you moved, turning and dashing down the corridor as fast as you could.

As he thought. Stubborn.

But he found that he didn't mind it.

The bars over the entryway were wrenched off easily and thrown to the side. You were already out of sight. He took a few steps into the corridor and found that there were multiple openings within the walls. Given the nature of that first room, he wondered if there were more traps to be found in the halls ahead. Though with how easy it was for him to beat that first room, he had a hard time imagining that anything you had set up would do much to him.

He glanced behind, seeing that the bars at the other end of the room were still intact. He'd leave those as they were for now. They'd be useful in keeping you in if you somehow managed to get around him and tried to escape that way.

Uvogin followed the path you had taken and turned at the same corner you had only to find another corridor that looked the same as the one he was currently standing in. Was this a maze? That was what it seemed like, but that wouldn't do much to stop him – he could still smell your panicked scent and could follow it to you.

As he walked down this other corridor, he noticed something else that gave your location away: there were several hallways of the maze where the floor was littered with dust and rubble, whereas the path that you must've traveled on a daily basis had clear signs of use as no dust had been allowed to settle.

This wasn't as effective in warding off pursuers, although in your defense, it was likely the first and only time that room from earlier had failed you.

That didn't stop him from encountering another obnoxious trap, however, as at one point through the maze a section of the floor beneath his foot suddenly fell, revealing a pit of sharp spikes down below.

He survived by quickly grabbing at the walls on either side and moving fast, only sparing a single glance down so as to acknowledge that there weren't any remains down in the pit. Those spikes probably wouldn't have killed him, but it would be a pain to deal with getting back up after falling into that.

Still, the more he saw, the more he wondered how you had managed to come across this place. Uvo couldn't believe that you had been the one to set the traps, but it wasn't exactly often that one would come across a fully functioning and apparently abandoned death cave.

Perhaps he could ask you after he caught you.

For now, he thought to himself as he spotted a door that led out of the maze, his only concern was capturing you.

Unsurprisingly, the door had been locked and secured from the other side, but with a single kick Uvogin had the wooden door and the board barricading it from the other side crashing to the ground in a million splinters. He stepped inside to find another room with another wooden door and your scent even stronger in this place. A quick look around didn't reveal there to be any mechanisms in this room that would trigger a trap.

But he did notice something odd on one of the walls.

He approached slowly, his eyes narrowing as the thing he had noticed appeared to be.... Writing?

It had been scratched into the walls with what appeared to be charcoal, and the writing itself looked to be dates of some kind. Ten different days marked down alongside different months of the year, and above it had been written a few words hoping that the dead would find peace.

This was a memorial for your previous victims, he realized. Despite your way of disposing of them, he had seen firsthand how death had bothered you. And you had said that you didn't enjoy it but that you had no other choice.

Was this some way of coping with it? With you, it didn't feel like that. Writing down when those deaths had happened seemed more like a punishment to him.

Maybe that was the point.

He looked over the dates again.

Ten different dates, ten different people. He would've been the eleventh if you had managed to kill him.

That couldn't be good for your health. The least he could do would be to save you from needing to remember all of that.

Uvogin then made his way towards the unopened door, and after finding that it was similarly locked, he kicked his way in once more.

Upon entering the next room, he managed to be a bit surprised.

So far, all of the rooms had been lit by use of the glowing stones placed in the ceilings and the walls, but as he walked into this new room, he found that the light within it came from the outside. Taking a few steps in, he looked above him and saw a wide opening within the rock, one that seemed to have been placed there intentionally in order to allow in the sunlight. He wasn't sure why such an opening would have been built in, though he suspected that it may have something to do with the stone basin he saw standing in the center of the room. The aged basin wasn't the thing that stood out most in this room, however.

It was what the natural light allowed within the space had managed to grow, as at the back of the room stood dozens and dozens of sunflowers, standing tall with their faces all turned upwards to that opening so they could absorb as much of the sunlight as possible. Odd to find something like that within a cave, but they seemed to be thriving.

Not that it mattered all that much to Uvo.

But as he inhaled once again, he noted that your scent in this room was even stronger.

And as he looked about the room once more, he noticed something on the ground behind the basin.

Looking closer revealed it to be a pile of cloth that had been arranged to look like a nest of sorts, a great deal of the cloth placed at the center as protection from the ground below.

Uvogin bent one knee to kneel down over the nest, a hand resting on the basin to keep his balance as he looked it over. This was where the omega scent was strongest. This was where you slept during the night, curled up on a makeshift bed among a miniature sea of sunflowers, waking up in the mornings just so you could spend your day scavenging for food and ways to further hide yourself from the world. And then you returned here every night after boarding up the door to this room, allowing yourself to get the rest you needed without fear of an intruder interrupting you. This place was your safe-haven.

And Uvogin felt certain that he had been the only other person to get inside of this place.

He looked about the rest of the room as his other hand absentmindedly went down to pick up one of the bits of cloth while he noted the raised platform that ran along the edge of the room, spotting five different doors – two on either side and one at the back – that led out of the room. The single door at the back wall appeared to be firmly shut and had two indents on either side consisting of various shapes, as if the door would be unlocked if he found the correct items to place inside of the indents.

He was thinking of how annoying that would be when he brought the cloth up to his face and inhaled.

The hand that had been gripping the basin caused the aged stone to crack as he was overtaken by the scent of a long-gone heat that was still present in the cloth. The thought of you needing him like that, being beneath him and begging, almost made him lose his mind.

Maybe you weren't completely wrong about what you had said in regards to instinct driving him.

He looked once again to the doors and sighed. The trick here seemed to be that he needed to go into wherever the four doors led and retrieve whatever items would unlock the fifth door, which would then allow him to get to you. Actually going through with that would be an obnoxious waste of time, and it'd be much easier and faster to break down that single door like he had done with the others. All he could hope for was that there weren't any more ridiculous traps to be avoided or any obnoxious puzzles he would be forced to solve.

Uvo dropped the cloth and stood, his hand still on the basin as he brought himself back to his feet.

When he looked to the basin again, he kicked it.

There hadn't been any reason for it; he just felt like toppling it over.

But as the stone crashed to pieces on the ground and hit the stems of a few unfortunate flowers, he heard something unexpected.

A soft but sharp intake of breath.

One that had come from within the sunflowers.

…. Ah.

It clicked in his mind, and he wanted to laugh when he realized what you were trying to do, that you were trying to trick him into going further into the cave so you could escape while he was distracted. At least that answered the question of if there was more than one way in and out this place – if you had the chance to get out elsewhere, you would've done so by now.

Uvo decided to go along with it for now. Though before he headed towards the wall with the lone door, he bent down to pick up a bit of the rubble left behind by the destroyed basin and kept it in hand as he made his way over.

Earlier he'd been distracted by the sight of your nest and the scent of you that filled the room, but now that he had a bit more of a hold on himself, he could easily pinpoint your shape within the sea of sunflowers. Currently he could feel your eyes watching him through the stems, and he could easily imagine the way you looked at him with your hands covering your mouth, hoping that if you stayed quiet and stayed still, he'd overlook you in favor of figuring out the door puzzle.

If only you'd kept quiet when he knocked over the basin, it might've worked.

You made your move when he began to kick at the door in an effort to break it down. On the third kick in, when the door cracked and pieces of stone fell to the floor, he heard a rustling from the area where you had hidden yourself, and he looked back in time to see you making a break for the door he had entered from.

Without missing a beat Uvo turned around and threw the rubble he had picked up earlier in your direction.

It hit you squarely on the back just as you entered the doorway and caused you to cry out as you fell.

Your cry of distress should have caused him to feel some form of upset or remorse, but he found that it only managed to excite him.

You were struggling to push yourself up into a sitting position when he returned to you, the hit from the rock affecting you more than he had intended. Good thing he'd aimed for your back and not your head.

You shuddered when you saw him towering over you and began to shake your head.

“Please,” you begged, “please just go away. Don't do this.”

“And what, leave you alone in a place like this? That would be even more cruel,” he said, “that main trap of yours can't be fixed, the doors to this room are wrecked, and no one would ever fall for those spike pits in your maze. Unless you've got something even more deadly in those other rooms, this place isn't safe for you anymore. Anyone could get in.”

You glared when he said that.

“And whose fault is that?” you asked.

“Hm. I'd say it's both our faults,” he answered, “me for breaking your shit, and you for thinking that you could get rid of me. You should've just accepted that I'm the alpha meant to claim you.”

“I'm not meant to be claimed,” you hissed.

Despite the venom dripping from your voice, he smiled at you.

“You are,” he said, “but it's okay if you haven't accepted that yet. I'm happy to help you through it.”

With that, he reached for you.

Your attempts to swat his hands away did nothing, and within moments he was carrying you over to your makeshift bed among the sunflowers. You struggled in his grip the entire time, and when he set you down on the cloth, you tried to turn onto your front and get up so you could run from him again.

You cried out the second you moved, the pain from the rock that had been thrown at you still very present.

Uvogin sat over you, watching as you struggled beneath him, still desperately trying to fight and get yourself out of this despite there being no chance of such a thing happening. Your time living as an unclaimed omega had come to an end; now there was only one future for you.

Uvo was waiting for you to come to that realization.

And after a few more moments of you writhing on the ground in agony, it seemed that you did realize that.

You looked back up to him, and once more shook your head.

“Please don't,” you begged again, “I don't want this.”

That time, instead of speaking, Uvo leaned in so he could press his face against your neck. Your attempts at pushing him away were even less effective than when you had tried to keep his hands off of you earlier, and you soon stopped fighting him, keeping your eyes squeezed shut while you bit your lip.

With your neck exposed to him, your scent was clearer now more than ever, and Uvogin couldn't keep himself from pressing his lips against your skin. It was a tame kiss by his standards, yet you shuddered when he pulled his lips away, and when he looked back at you, he saw tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as your lip wobbled in frustration.

He inhaled again, and that time he caught a scent of something new: a very, very faint hint of arousal.

He smirked.

“As much as you like to deride other ranks for acting on instinct, you aren't much different,” he said to you, “I've only kissed you once and you're already beginning to reciprocate.”

“But it makes sense,” Uvo continued, “you've been all by yourself here for a long time, haven't you? Riding out all those heats on your own while waiting for your alpha to come for you.”

“No,” you said.

“You did the right thing in getting rid of those others; they would've ruined you,” he added while ignoring your protest, “but you don't need to worry about dirtying your hands with that sort of thing anymore; I'll be here to keep you safe from here on out.”

“No,” you said again, but this time it came out weaker.

You didn't try to fight him when he pushed your skirts out of the way so he could position himself between your legs, nor did you try to push him away when he pressed his lips against your neck again.

This time he included teeth as he bit down, and the cry you let out went straight to his dick.

Blood was dripping from his mouth when he pulled away and looked at you once more, and this time he saw that you were full-on crying when your eyes met.

“Please d-”

He silenced you by taking your lips in a kiss, and the muffled noise that came from you sounded like a mixture of both want and fear.

Whatever the conflict going on within you, Uvogin would see to it that it was put to rest.

#uvogin x reader #yandere uvogin #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #reader insert #hxh uvogin #uvo x reader #abo

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