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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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Blood-Stained Wool Spun At Midnight (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)

WORDCOUNT: 12.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, intense gore, body horror, horror, angst, mutilation, violence, wounds, blades, death, many religious imagery/references, nudity, protective!Simon, NSFW, soft/loving smut, fingering, mating press, implied virgin!reader due to time-period standards, pretty vanilla, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon’s skin is bare to the moon, and he can taste your blood on his tongue.

Eyes wide, the man’s lips are loose; jaw slackened at the horror that lays below him as crimson drips down the swell of his Adam’s apple and between the dip of his chest. He can’t move, even as the chill sets into his spine, the hair over his arms and on the back of his neck standing on end.

All he can see is your body.

You don’t move, you don’t smile or send him that stern look of stubbornness—the snow falls to your head, it collects on the side of your face and limp corpse. Your torn clothes show the weeping wounds and jagged remains of flesh.

But none more so than one on your neck. The gaping tear made from his fangs.

Not me, Simon’s fingers twitch at his sides, your body in a pool of red. Not me.

It was him, though, wasn’t it?

He doesn’t remember what happened, cannot recall the memories in his brain—a demon, the Lord of this forest, and a prisoner all in one. You hadn’t killed it, no, there was no way to do that. Silver could only do so much.

But it had done something to you, to make your scent twist and rot. Your soul didn’t smell right.

“I…” Simon’s voice fails him.

His body is broken and bent, his entire side burning with pain, but none of that matters. Brown eyes quiver, and the man goes to lick his lips only to gag at the taste of copper, snapping his eyes away to pant quick breaths into the tree line.

Simon’s hand raises to hover above his stomach, shaking.

“I didn’t bloody do that,” he mutters, the evidence on his chest and stuck in his pores. The forest is silent. “I didn’t do that.” The man says it louder.

You stare forward numbly with a broken neck and a torn-out throat.

Foot twisting him around, he levels his back to you, hands coming up to his head as his jaw clenched so tight his molars scream at him. What had happened? What had gone on? Simon closes his eyes and hunches his shoulders forward.

“No,” he growls. “No, I didn’t fucking do that to you.”

The night continues to keep him in its black hold, the snow absorbs the blood and black liquid. He can smell the rot—the infection under your skin as it brands your corpse.

This forest was like a beacon to every monster in its vicinity. It called them here and made them lose themselves. Under the light of the moon and sun, whenever its branches told him to run and hunt as a beast, Simon Riley had no option but to obey. He would come here on a moment's notice when he felt the change coming over him, to his hut and his glade.

There were few times he could predict it, and no matter how much he wanted to stay with you, that just wasn’t how it worked.

Every monster that was called here was bait for that demon, and no monster had the ability to wield anything that could kill it. No silver. No holy water.

But a mortal could.

Every hunter entering these dark bounds had been hunting the wrong colossus and never had the chance to know it.

Simon bends slightly forward to hold his head tighter, grunting out whimpers as if trying to keep his brain from falling out.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Then louder than a scream and longer than the first, “Fuck!” The trees shiver.

Simon harshly pulls at his hair, feeling the strands snap before he slides his hands up and down his face; trying to push off the crimson yet he only succeeds in spreading it. He can’t hear your heart beating anymore, can’t hear the swell of your lungs. Nothing.

Hand lashing out, his knuckles connect with the hard bark of one of the tree’s trunks and he sends it back and forward three more times until his fingers crack and bend. When he’s done, the man doesn’t even notice the tears freezing on his cheeks as his breath puffs out in clouds.

Simon silently stifles a ragged inhale and sags forward, unable to turn back and look at you—he can’t bear it after everything he’s been through. Forehead tapping the rough bark, his pain-filled body flaring, the blond clenches his fists like an angry child.

He should have told you in the glade—in the safety of consecrated ground where holy men and women had been buried for time immemorial. He should have explained why it was only you that made him whole.

But Simon was a silent creature; a creature of silent glances and hidden softness that borders on a fear of abandonment. He would never tell you until you happened to figure it out yourself or if it became undeniable.

Oh, you should have stayed away.

His knees threaten to give out, so he lets them go until he can move his body to the side and lean against his tree. Barely breathing, he cares not about the cold. As he did when he was a child, all those years ago yet still shrouded in pain and hate, he loses any and all expression from his face—brown eyes dark as they stare at nothing.

There had been a moment that he’d come back to himself as the Ghost. A brief moment.

Simon wants to hang for the memory he now holds.

Your eyes, blood-burst, looking into his own as his fangs rend your flesh in two. The feeling of your neck snapping under his jaws. Tongue lolling in blood and licking its muzzle; whiskers dripping.

This time Simon gags, but he also hurls up his guts, too.

Bending his aching spine, his forearm keeps him up, bare thighs tensing and nerves quivering as his abdomen bunches. Simon pants staring blankly at the bile in the snow, saliva pooling in his mouth. He still can’t look at you.

With little left for him, the man curls up in the snow and resigns himself to freezing to death, arms loose around his waist and injuries screaming at him.

He’d killed you—is death not the only option left for him as well?

Simon lays there until his eyelids grow heavy, only thinking of you and how you had been. Your kindness, your wit. He enjoyed your loudness, and there was no one to perfectly challenge him but you.

From the first time he’d seen your form, it had only ever been you. He was yours, utterly; wholly. He should have told you to stay away.

“M’sorry, Love” he whispers into the ground, shivering violently, lips blue. His head is turned away as the trees hold their breath. “All my bastard fault—should’ve been me. It…fuckin’ hell,” Simon breathes, clenching his jaw. “Should’ve been me.”

He mutters his self-hatred until he falls silent and his chest rattles. Until the forest listens.

Until it answers.

Simon’s eyes snap open to the sound of a world cracking in two and finds your body gone.

—

This place isn’t real.

You sit in a mirror vision of your shop, but nothing is correct. Looking into the corners, shadows slip away with quiet laughter, and the door rings but no one walks through. It’s…repetitive. It never stops, but you can’t seem to leave.

You think it’s been days, weeks, even. Always it feels like there’s something watching you, and the window of your shop shows nothing but black night outside and flickering lamps.

It doesn’t feel right to speak.

If you speak, whatever is standing out in the street will know you’re here.

You shake as you watch it now, silent and swallowing down saliva. Its eyes have been ripped out, and the chains along its wrists drag so loudly you can hear them even through stone and wood; they make you flinch and shiver. For whatever reason, the phantom of the man cannot find you, though he has been looking.

He even knocks on the door.

It was a clanging, dead, thing. With a slam of a gnarled wrist and a raspy cry of your name on his slit tongue. You don’t want to ask how it knows your title, so you only hold your hands to your mouth to stifle your sobs. But for all of this, you still contained self-awareness.

You’re in Hell, or some strange, twisted version of the middle point. Purgatory.

But why? Why here of all places—your soul had been branded, you heard that curse and felt the blackened nectar in your flesh. Had known what Simon had…

You blink quickly, looking away from the twisted man and taking down a shaky inhale.

Whatever this place was, you and this shade were the only ones here. The only once-human ones, anyways. You didn’t exactly want to go out and meet him.

“Please!” It bangs on the door again and your head snaps up in panic, hand whipping to your mouth to hide the sharp gasp. If you ever got out of here, you never wanted to see your home again. This version ruined it. “Please, let me in. I can’t see—it took out my eyes! Please, please I need my eyes.”

Your eyelids close tightly, your heart clenched and beating fast.

All of this terror lets you think about Simon. And so you do, and try to not blame him for what he did even if you know in your heart it’s not his fault.

You remember the first time you met him, and you think that’s perhaps one of the best memories you hold.

“If you expect me to fix this, you’ll need to hand over half of your soul and a blessing from God himself,” you frown at the remains of a pair of tweed pants, blinking with your mouth agape. “I’d ask what happened, but I think that would put me on a list of some kind, Sir.”

Simon stares.

“How much?” You sigh and shake your head.

“Really, there’s very little I can do here short of just offering you a new pair.” Placing the scraps on the table and lightly pushing them forward, the man moves his large hand out to take them from you.

Your fingers touch, and you blink as a slight spark makes you flinch. Simon as well, you remember, had snapped his hand back to him, his eyes slightly widening and his throat holding down a breath.

“Woah,” you mutter, touching your head as you suddenly go lightheaded. “S-sorry about that, I don’t know what—”

“Both.” Simon slides the fabric back to you.

Your senses come back in a slow sweep and you clear your throat. “...Both?”

“Fix the pants and sell me another, yeah?” A quirked brow, but something else swims in that dark gaze, something that fights with itself. “I’ll pay. Money’s no problem.”

“Oh,” you blink, taken aback. The both of you stare at each other.

You’re struck by the thought that this man’s eyes are far more deep than anything you’ve looked into before.

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” He grunts, tipping his head and looking to the side for a moment. He wears that strange covering, too. The one that sits on his nose.

“Good.” Simon backs up a step before pausing. “You have a name, then, Tailor?”

You tilt your head and cross your arms, eyes narrowing carefully. “Just as you do.”

That silk fabric twitches, gaze sparking.

“Simon Riley.” Your smile slowly pulls at your muscles, and for the first time throughout the day, you truly mean it.

You don’t know how time works here, but you also can’t really understand that you’re dead. Of course, the thought of an afterlife crossed your mind in your living hours, but you’d never thought you’d go to one so soon.

But every time you blink, you don’t think you’re meant to be here.

So, again, why? The question was mulled over incessantly after every memory of Simon, and you start to believe he’s the catalyst.

What were you missing?

The man himself had hinted at it, talking about how your scent to him was opium—like a drug. It kept him…him even when a monster.

“Please!” You’ve discovered that all of the windows are bolted and the front door is locked, but it never becomes daytime here. A perpetual night and a pleading soul guarding you. In the long hours where you sneak from one empty room to another, so similar to real life that it makes you sick, you wonder if this place is an exact replica of the city you called home.

If some of the other houses are not so vacant after all; the inhabitants hiding like you are. Purgatory sounds about right.

Chains drag and there are garbling sobs and you stare at the door without the key to open it.

The thing was blind—if you could sneak past it…your eyes looked out the window to Simon’s home across the street. There was a pull to all things that included him. A sanctity. Despite how your life had ended, how you’ll surely still think about it and sob out of pain, you can’t blame him for it.

He didn’t have control.

You begin to think of a plan to break out without making any noise as you close your eyes tightly, hands clenching at your sides.

“Back again, Mr. Riley?” Your bell rings and you glance at the intimidating figure walking through. He takes a deep breath when he enters, nodding in greeting before lumbering to the counter.

“Any trouble?” He had a habit of asking this when he’d been gone on a longer trip of his, always back disheveled and with bags under his bloodshot eyes. As if he gets back and the first thing he wants to do is come see you.

The thought didn’t bother you.

You laugh, “I’m happy to report the only thing that happened was that a pigeon ran into the window.”

Brown eyes glance over his shoulder to blink at the impression of feathers on the front glass.

“Poor Bastard,” he huffs, amusement in his accented tone as he slips his hands into his pockets. “Get any feathers out of it? New pillow if you’re lucky.” He tilts his chin. “If you know how to pluck a bloody corpse, that is.”

“You’re incredibly strange, Mr. Riley,” you laugh, nodding your head at him. “I’ve never heard a man state such things.”

“I wrong?” Simon grunts, but you hear his slight smile in his tone.

You only roll your eyes. “I highly doubt a pigeon would give you enough feathers for a pillow.”

“Well, you’re just not fuckin’ trying hard enough then, yeah?”

“Are you here for a reason, Sir?” You can’t stop smiling, holding back your loud laugh as happiness is plainly stated on your face. “Or are you just here to speak to me about the feather-quantity of the local birds?”

Simon’s eyes are crinkled slightly, and you try very hard to imagine him beaming just as you do, though you know it’s slim.

You want to make him smile; you want to be the reason he does. And you don’t even know why.

Your very soul leaps when you see him from across the street, it tightens and calls out like a reaching hand desperate to grasp into another counterpart. You’d never felt like this about a man before, much less one you barely knew anything about on a personal level.

You liked Simon Riley.

“I was thinking ‘bout a new undershirt. Black.” A hand moves up and a pile of money is placed on your counter. “Anything’ll be good, just need a new one.”

“Of course,” you easily slip into business, not bothering to look at the sum. “Special occasion?” You pause before fake laughing. “A lady to impress, perhaps?”

Your heart sinks more than it should; nearly hurting. Did Mr. Riley have a courtship?

He blinks at you carefully, long lashes caressing his scarred cheeks. You swore his lips under the silk twitched.

“No,” is all he says, blunt and casual, thighs shifting.

You stare, hands touching themselves on the counter as heat burns your cheeks.

“Okay,” you mutter, embarrassed, though you don’t know why. “That should be no trouble at all. I’ll just need your measurements.”

Simon nods once, staring at your hands before he takes off his jacket and places it on the wood. You grabbed your long measuring tape and slipped to the front, asking lightly for him to hold out his arms.

Heart hammering, he does so; great torso flexing and face blank.

You begin with the chest, sliding your hands along his clothed body to flatten out the tape until you can see the mark it rested at. It would be false to say you didn’t lose your breath slightly, being so close and able to freely feel the swell of his muscle. Under your fingers, his pulse was like a hammer, and he was so large you actually had to give him a hug to connect the other side around him.

“S-sorry,” but Simon’s eyes are entirely blown, body tense and slightly shivering as your hands feel him.

“Don’t be,” he breathes, and you feel the push of his lungs to his ribcage; molten heat.

Your lips tingle, and heat seeps into your stomach as you shift your thighs to quell it.

Simon grunts, and his head turns down incredibly fast.

You blink. “Mr. Riley?”

“Nothin’,” his lips flinch, and his brown eyes, more like black now, dart to your lips. “M’fine. Keep going.”

You do so, oblivious to the coil in the man’s gut that mirrors yours, flaring with every gentle poke and prod.

It was when you’d almost given up that there seemed to be something else on your side in this god-forsaken place. You found your knife.

It was in the same drawer where your tape measure should be, just sitting there where all else was absent. You stare and slowly reach for it, sliding your fingers over the hilt and the glint of the blade before picking it up.

But you’d checked this drawer a million times over, what had—

There’s the sound of a fluttering of wings outside of your shop, and you’re unimpressed with yourself at how your mind immediately goes to a helpful pigeon spirit. You hold a hand to your lips to stop yourself from laughing, despite it all.

A spark alights in your heart.

“Thank you,” you whisper to nothing, turning the blade over in your hands and smiling.

Walking slowly, you avoid every creak in the wood—unlooping your belt for the small prong that would come in handy. Placing the blade into the slit of the lock, you insert the prong above it, twisting and waiting to hear a series of clicks; putting your ear next to the wood.

The dragging of chains is far off, the loud wailing distant.

Now or never.

You hold your breath and listen to the sounds of the lock, sweating and grimacing. It’s so very silent outside—you’re so used to the clanging of metal and the clop of hooves that it scares you more than the monster. Like you’re standing out in a field but there’s no wind, no air even. Unnatural nothingness.

So hard at focusing, when the click of the door lets you know it’s open, you don’t notice the heavy breathing on the other side. Standing and taking out your knife, you silently celebrate plucking your belt away just as the handle jiggles.

Only you’re not touching the handle.

Blood leaving your face, you can only skitter to the side as the hinges squeal like a dying animal, the barrier slowly opening as your back flattens against the wall. At first, nothing happened.

The door is open and you stare wide-eyed as no sound enters your ears. Lamp-light seeps in, creating a long glow along the floors.

A ragged breath makes you want to shrivel up, and then the wailing starts.

“Please, please, where are my eyes?” Too close.

You flinch wildly as chains are dragged into the room, the scent of dead wood sticking to your nostrils. Up close, the man’s skin is dripping water—seaweed over his shoulders and hanging off his restraints.

He walks inside and the gaping wounds of his eyes make you nearly gag. “Where did you take them? I want them back, please, let me borrow yours until I find mine again.”

He drags his heavy silver chains far into the shop, stumbling and groaning through sobs. Those things seem to have no end to them, and he bumps and walks into the back room right as you slip outside.

Immediately, you rush out into the street, crossing the cobble and hopping the long metal ahead of you as you re-loop your belt with one hand and grip your knife tightly. Getting to Simon’s house, you grasp the handle of the door and pull.

It jerks with a bang of metal.

Locked.

“Shi…” you trail your curse and bite your lip. Silently, you take a step back to quickly think as the warden still calls hopelessly from your shadowed shop. Where else would you go? The inner city? The town?

Your eyelids blink.

The forest. That had to be it—there had to be answers there, right?

You were beginning to grow more fearful that you would be stuck here forever, in between life and death. A branded soul and yet, you weren’t in Hell. Or, at least, you imagined Hell far more hot than this.

Turning, you slip down the steps and speed walk down the road, not running for fear that your shoes would make too much noise. That was also strange—all of your clothes were mended here, stitched back together as if never cut; wounds healed and nonexistent. You weren’t one to complain.

“Where are you going?” The Warden is on the steps, and he falls down them in a shattering of bone and a slurp of wet skin. “Please, give me my eyes! I can hear you running away—I can smell your souls! Let me have what little is still free! Let me see!”

Souls?

You start sprinting as the great wail of chains lets you know you’re being pursued.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your lips expel, skirts swish, and muscles tense all at once. Like a race, the man’s panting breath is almost felt on your neck, bare feet far faster than he should be. “I don’t have your eyes—I’m sorry, but you’ve really got the wrong person! T-try down the block?!”

You call loudly behind you in hopes that it will get him to give up on you, legs pumping harder as he screams with rage and you curse yourself with every breath. He’s gaining on you, somehow, this blind beast is gaining on you.

There was no way you were making it to the forest.

In a split-second decision, your shoes skid over the street, and, steeling yourself with what little sanity you have left, you turn with your knife at the ready.

Hell, you’d already died once.

But you’d never forget the image of this beast running towards you with a wailing mouth and dragging chains, the things so heavy they wrench back his arms. You falter for a moment, but shake your head and raise the knife in one hand, gritting your teeth despite your unimaginable fear.

Bravery was far too hard at this moment, but there was no more running. You take down a shaky breath and will your arm to stop vibrating with its sweaty palm.

“My eyes!” It screams. “Give me your eyes!”

Seven feet, five, four, three—

A familiar rageful roar takes over, and a black shadow covers the street lamp light from above as if a storm of vengeance. You watch as the gargantuan body flies over you and wastes little time for pleasantries.

The Ghost slams its body into the Warden, and they go down in a flurry of feral snarls and wails. You watch, frozen still with shock, as black claws can be heard tearing through flesh and rending meat, a slick slapping of pig slop as black blood spills to the streets.

In the utter absence of all else, you listen with a quivering body, the fear extending down to your spine. Not of the other thing on its back, wailing and sobbing about its eyes even as its gut is invaded by a large muzzle and ivory fangs, but of that muzzle-owner itself.

You didn’t realize how much of a shock it would be to see Simon again. Like this.

Your eyes stare blankly at how an arm is ripped from its socket, shredded from a shoulder, and tossed to the sidewalk with a rabid jerk; the body of the Warden lifted as the Ghost rises to his back paws and grips tightly. Hands on the lower half, mouth on the top, your jailer is torn in two with nothing more than a tear and a sound of vertebrae popping.

Black splatters over your cheeks, but you make no move to swipe it away.

Simon drops the body to the ground, and it twitches—it speaks as it bounces. Brown eyes dig into its mangled face, ears erect.

“My eyes…M-my…eye—” A large paw pad is pressed into its head, and pressure is leveled. Brought down like an anvil.

The Ghost crushes a skull under his foot and the resounding pop is enough to make you snap out of your frozen terror. He turns to you seconds later, mouth stopping its snarling and going silent all at once.

The beast blinks slowly, ear twitching once.

Averting your gaze, you completely give up in light of this new arrival and clench your eyes shut. Your neck hurts—burns—like it’s being ripped open over and over again, snapping, and the light getting sucked away.

Great feet take lumbering steps forward; you take one back.

“I…I don’t,” you shudder and shake, hand holding your knife. Your mind can’t comprehend him being here—in this void with you, leaping in a great bound to tackle the monster to the ground. No, no, this was another phantom. He was going to kill you again.

Wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t his fault.

You back up some more until there’s a soft huff. It’s tiny, small as if coming from a lap dog that Mrs. Ida would own. Your eyes are firmly shut, yet he tries again.

A wet nose is leveled to your forehead, pressing in and tapping you lightly. A chuffing noise echoed in the back of his throat, gruff and low as he breathed you in. You hide a whimper as that nose dips to your neck, imagining the ways he’s going to sink his teeth in and how your bones will—

The Ghost sags into you, and with a flick of his ears, the large head begins to rub into your flesh as he grunts. Your eyes snap open as his gargantuan hands circle your waist, anchoring you to his chest as he leans back on his haunches; small noises bouncing from his breast as he curls his head behind yours. You’re lifted gently as you squeak, hands snapping to dig through fur and, like logs, your feet dangle from under you.

You don’t speak as Simon begins running out of the city, down the black outskirts. Into the midnight shadows the two of you disappear in the direction of the mirrored forest, your body in his grip and the side of his head never failing to lean into yours. You can feel his eyes roving, darting down and around, before always coming back to you regardless of the things he smells here.

Like a candle in the dark, he had already scoured the bounds of this purgatory for you—waiting for that small flicker of something to grasp onto that would let him find your light. And it hadn’t been your scent or the way you’d yelled. It had been the very call of your soul, or, at least, souls.

Because that was what it was.

The reason you were here instead of Hell was because that corruption had only marked your soul. Not realizing that half of it didn’t belong to you.

Simon knew little about how it worked, but sometimes people are only born with a fraction of their soul as theirs—the other pieces snapping into place when a match is met but still not held as theirs. Your other half, the reason you stayed here, was because Simon’s soul had held you up like a rope to an anchor.

That spark in the tailor’s shop; the longing and the insatiable pull to be near you—marked as two pieces of a puzzle sitting right next to each other, the image leaking from one to the other.

A Fated Pair.

The Ghost breaks through the treeline and you curl into him as he covers you with his arms, eyes watching the black trees and the void of space above him. There were no stars here—no moon. You can’t see anything, but he can.

Simon rushes your intertwined souls back to the place he had dragged himself through; a great fissure in the earth that had opened and swallowed your body who knows how long ago. Weeks, months—years, even. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered.

His instincts brought him through, and his guilt had kept him going; this all-consuming and deathly guilt. He’d never forgive himself, but he can’t leave you here.

Simon finds the fissure as great screams begin to wail out from the city, echoing off the trees and over the air. A scream and a plea. Hundreds, thousands.

He doesn’t bother to stay, because you’re in his arms and his nose breathes in your scent. You grip onto him tightly, shaking with a fear-bathed quiver to your lips, and those large arms hold you ever closer; a large grunt and a rub of his chin.

Simon stands on the very edge of a void, and he jumps.

—

You wake to the large dog curled around you, softly breathing and using his body to shield you from the gentle snowfall. So warm does his blood run, that you don’t even feel the cold on you, only the brush of silk and the hard press of his hands.

Simon’s breath ruffles your hair, his spine shaped in such a way that not a sliver of you is visible to the world beyond your head in his neck, resting on the swell of his softness like a pillow. As if he was a swan, keeping you in a bed of feathers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you take air down to bathe in the scent of earth.

The Ghost shifts, grunting and not letting up on his grip.

You’re in the very same place you died, yet there’s no evidence of that—the blood is gone, the broken trees are surrounded by young ones, and the snow is deeper than it had been before. But your clothes are…

You shift, and the beast lets you go easily, though his eyes don’t leave your face. He stays on the ground as you sit up, looking down at yourself.

While the forest may have moved on, you, it seems, have not.

Your clothes are back to the state they’d been in before—torn and ripped open, long gouging marks and stains that would never come out. You tense at the sight, swallowing saliva down as if wine with a grimace. Like a magnetic link, your eyes slowly turn up to meet Simon’s.

He waits. He watches. That muzzle of his closed and his breath slow. If you told him to get away, there would be no doubt that he would—he would disappear and never come back to you, a memory that fades into a dream and then farther on.

Your fingers twitch as his large claw lifts, a finger pointed and slowly coming up to your face. You try not to balk away as it draws near to your nose, where a tiny snowflake rests. The blackened sickle pauses, Simon’s chest expands, and then he slightly brushes it away with little more than a twitch of his finger.

The knife is only a foot away, sitting bright and glinting in the morning light. You look to the sky to distract from your burning cheeks; your internal war.

Light. Real and glowing above you from a globe set into the heavens.

Gazing at it with wide eyes, your sockets fill with stinging tears, blinking until they slip down your cheeks and you put a hand over your mouth as a small sob wafts out. You bend your spine forward and cry, gasping.

Simon keeps himself away, unknowing if he should reach out or if he would only make it worse. His great body is tight with agony, souls raging with pain. Everything in this form was more instinctual, more in tune, he wanted to comfort you—to make it alright again, but even as a human, when had he ever been good at that?

The Ghost watched, body wound up but still deathly still; ears pointing straight. His hands twitch.

You sob until your lungs hurt and your head feels light, not knowing how to process this in the slightest. When you’re done you numbly stare at the ground below you, trying to rid your mind of death, demons, and wool.

A human hand on the top of your head makes you startle.

Snapping your red eyes up, you meet tight orbs of brown, a face twisted with remorse and a deep inner hatred.

“I…” Simon’s lips utter out, his voice low and pale skin in the snow. “M’sorry, Sweet Girl. I can never fuckin’ give you an apology that matters, eh? But I need to say it—I need you to know.” You stare and feel his fingers caress your scalp. He looks away, breath small. “It’s all my bloody fault, yeah? So don’t you dare think for a second that anythin’ comes back to you.”

The hand threatens to leave you, to slip back down and return to his side, but with a small noise of alarm—one that had Simon’s eyes widened in concern—your body darts forward.

Connecting with him, you make him grunt as his biceps press into your side, shocked as his first reaction is to make sure you don’t fall.

“Get me out of here,” you plead. “Please, Simon, get me out of here.”

There’s no hesitation as he lifts you upward, a bridal hold like the same he had used to lift you above the thorns and mutters into your hair as he quickly walks into the trees.

“C’mere, I’ve got you. Don’t cry, c’mon now, you’re back. You’re back.” The knife is left far in the past, and there it will stay—far away from the two of you. “Breathe, then.”

You bury your head into his neck, breathing hard and shaking not from the cold but from memories; things you shouldn’t know.

“M’sorry,” Simon says again, voice cracking. “Christ, I’ll never say it enough.”

If you hated him he understood—would welcome that Hell in its own right. Of all the things he’d done, this was the worst sin he could have ever committed. He’d spend the rest of his life thanking whatever power was out there that had broken the earth for him; had led him to you. His tailor.

You sob through a panicked chuckle. “Y-you already have, you brute.”

Simon rubs his face into your hair, holding your quivering souls together and opening his mouth in a shaking exhale as his eyes flutter.

“Breathe,” is all he says, repeating everything like a record and an order as you hone on the stiff tone—getting you to focus.

You follow the pulse in his neck, lips pressing into his flesh as your head tilts.

You’re both back at Simon’s hut as you still try to calm yourself, the man’s face turned into yours and his forehead pressing into your scalp. There’s so little for you to grasp onto besides him—how he feels, the dig of his fingers, and the sound of his breath.

He sets you on the bed and he pauses, kneeling down slowly as his hands come to gently clutch your cheeks.

“Can you look at me, Love?” Simon asks you, voice gruff in its low tone. You shiver, sniffling, before your eyes stutter over his features and land on those burial mound browns. He releases a tiny puff of breath—a flicker of his lip.

“Atta girl, jus’ like that, then.” The man blinks slowly, tilting. Simon looks you over with a heavy expression, one that shows the pain and the weight he carries. “Need to get these off, okay?”

A finger lightly travels to your neck, tapping the remnants of your shirtwaist as a few more tears slip out when you blink, shakily nodding. Simon’s lips tighten.

“Want to do it yourself,” he breathes, “or is it alright if I touch you, Sweetheart?” Your hands are too unstable to do it yourself, he knows that just as well as you do.

So, in a small broken whisper, you simply utter out, “Please.”

Simon nods once and the topic is settled; he knows.

The man’s fingers deftly undo the buttons, one after the other as the light from outside seeps into the small square of a home. He doesn’t comment—doesn’t make a sound—just does what he can to help you and get you sorted out; Simon could hear the rapid set of your heart, feel your pulse like a rampaging storm.

When you’re down to nothing but your flesh, the man grabs the covers from behind you and wraps you in them, his eyes not once flickering downward until you’re entirely swamped by fabric. A hand on your waist squeezes.

By now the brush of his skin atop yours had sucked you in as if lighting had struck with every pass or small press. The glide of his scars and calluses grounded you here.

There were very few beings that would hunt for you through life and death and fewer that stayed that course. Thumbs once more brush away the water on the swell of your face.

“Sleep,” he utters, even if there’s light outside.

You gaze at him, at his stubble and his pale complexion; the wind rustles outside. What would he do? Guard the door most likely, perhaps even think of how to get into town and grab new clothes for the both of you, food, and necessities. Simon’s mind was fighting itself, just as it always had but now there was the largest stain on his consciousness that he could ever remember having.

He was worried if he handled you, you might break under him. You…you already had. Avoidance, even if it killed him inside, was the best course of action.

Your mouth is filled with wool, tongue heavy, but in your heart and whatever feeling you have burning in your chest, you know you can’t let him move away from you. Simon being this close made it…easier. Even if a piece of you was still hesitant about black fur and sharp teeth. He had said it himself, hadn’t he?

Simon wasn’t the Ghost, but at the same time how could they ever be apart from one another?

Yet, your lips are already moving just as he’s about to stand up.

“Stay?” Simon’s lungs take in a silent breath, a moment of long silence as he tries to understand why you would want to be around him at all. His hands twitch, your eyes catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a slow swallow. “Please, Simon,” you breathe. “I don’t…I can’t be alone again.”

He grunts and is already lifting you.

Simon shifts your body back and lays you nearest to the wall, shuffling his body until he can lie with his spine facing you; his face to the door as he stays unblinking.

“Nothing's going to happen to you,” he says, and you turn so you can lightly rest your head into the span of his shoulder blades. Simon’s jaw clenches. “It’s safe here. We’ll figure it out when you’ve got your energy back.”

You want him to explain, but perhaps right now sleep was the best option. For all intents and purposes—you can’t even remember when you last had true sleep. So you stay there, skin to skin, and breath to breath as the sun still shines outside; the wind travels slowly.

As you slip off, Simon has to restrain himself from turning around and pressing you into him—leveling his head above yours and breathing you in like how he wishes he could. But no. Too much.

He’d explain it all when you were better.

So he settles on the fact that all he can do is watch the door with a far-off expression, his body sagging back into you as your heat meets his.

—

You slept for three days, and in that time, Simon had only left once. On day two he went into town where he’d snuck like a thief—and there truly was no better analogy. Wearing only a blanket once more, the man breaks into your closed Tailor’s shop; boards on the windows and a sign out front to set it for sale. Inside, everything was as it had been left. Dust and layers of stale air, but there was never a better place to be for Simon.

It was where he met you, after all.

He takes everything he’s able to carry. A large trunk of clothes, personal belongings, and anything that looks of great importance; clothing himself in a simple undershirt and pants along the way. With that, he goes to his own home and grabs all manner of money. Come morning, people would believe it was a robbery, and that was perfectly fine with him.

Mostly everything belonged to you, anyway. They could have his sparsely furnished home and its cracking foundations. It mattered not. But he knew you needed your work—your passion.

As he grunts and lifts the trunk, a knicker echoes out behind him. Blinking, dark eyes look behind to find a meeting pair—a long horse’s neck leaning out of a stall. They stare at each other before Simon huffs a chuckle and turns to the shadows.

When you finally did open your eyes again, deep in the third night, everything was different.

You blink at the bright roar of the fireplace, the flickering of the candles that push back any darkness—curtains on the windows to hide the blackness of midnight. There are your belongings on the cleaned table; the foot of the bed and, there, on the desk. Measuring tape, fabric scissors, and yards of materials are stacked in the spotless corners.

There’s no doubt that the broken window is fixed for the moment as well.

New sheets sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to get up before he can fit them. Jaw loose, you glance all around as the fabric pools at your waist, bare body glistening in the light as your head moves like a bird back and forth slowly. Dare you say it, the place felt…homely. Warm. Small, yes, but the definition of comfort rarely mattered when speaking on size.

There’s a shuffling sound outside the door and you realize you’re alone.

Face stuck at the door, your sudden tension is somewhat lessened by the small grunts and puffs of a large nose and heavy, clawed, feet. Somewhat.

An open maw bites down on your throat with a tearing of flesh before your neck fully snaps.

Your hand lightly comes up to your throat, pressing very loosely as the sounds continue, spiking your cautious curiosity. You know you shouldn’t be holding this against him, but, you had…died. You had felt your neck snap and your blood coat his fangs.

Somehow, Simon had brought you back from that, but he had been the one to do it in the first place.

No, you think, feet very carefully sitting on the floor. No, not Simon. The Ghost.

Yet again—aren't those the same? It was a constant question.

Your lips are thin as the dagger in your heart digs ever deeper, but it is your dagger, and it is also your heart, too. Yours. Standing, you cover yourself with the thin sheet, hearing it drag behind you as your body takes you to the door with quiet and even steps.

So much the two of you have gone through—it seemed hard to comprehend it in this world of black fire and battling beasts; hell and purgatory. He’d tracked you down…how? As your hand meets the handle, slowly walking feet coming closer from beyond it, you tighten your hold on the fabric near your neck and breathe slowly.

You first see crimson, and then the beady brown eyes of a large dog and a stained muzzle. Breath tight, you stare at the dead bodies of two sheep in the Ghost’s maw, limp bodies hanging from the legs out of puffed cheeks. The both of you halt your courses.

Simon’s eyes slash down your nearly-naked form, and he drops the animals to the ground before his head darts to the side; snow splattered with blood and the imprint of large woolen bodies. He snorts and takes a single step back, seemingly hunching down lower as he sniffs the air in distraction.

His feet pivot, one clawed foot moving away.

“Simon,” you say, breath puffing over the cold air. He waits, head only slightly tilting your way; eyes pointing down. You don’t know why you speak, why you call to him like this.

The silence settles as you struggle to articulate, mouth opening and closing like it was a choice between speech or the metaphorical blade to your throat. You close your mouth and look to the side, the lids of your eyes tightly shut.

Without another word, you’re setting your feet in the drowned snow and walking up to him, fingers shaking before your hand extends from the elbow. It rests above the side of his muzzle, hovering with a tiny quiver as you fight with your own fear.

You can feel Simon’s eyes on you now, watching. Always watching. Forever watching. Eyes like hard earth; like the dirt under your nails.

Simon’s throat grumbles, and before you can make a decision, he helps make one for you.

He softly moves his great lumbering head down and to the side—slotting it under your hand as you gasp, feeling the strands of fur under your grip. Immediately, your eyes snap to meet his, seeing long lashes holding snowflakes. The Ghost’s so large that he has to bend low in order to give you a comfortable resting point for your hand; sitting in between his sharp ears.

You swallow down your nervousness as the seconds draw on, your heart rate slowing until you can properly move closer and feel the waves of fur beneath your fingertips. Playing with them, you card your digits in gentle strokes, hearing the low purr that rattles your bones as a great weight is leveled into your torso.

A tiny giggle emanates from your chest, and the beast responds by only pushing himself deeper into your stomach.

“Easy,” you mutter, eyes light as a smile forms on your lips.

The chill seeps in gradually as you both stand there, a werewolf and a barely-clothed tailor. Before long you’re shivering even as you feel content next to Simon and to steal some of his furnace-like heat.

You pull back and the wolf momentarily tilts to find you, only to open his eyes when he can’t feel your sturdy body. He blinks, before slowly standing back up to his full height.

The light from the hut seeps out to cover you, and you take comfort in that—if the door shuts on its own, you’d be left in a darkness you know you’ll fear for many, many years. With its illumination, you speak freely.

“I don’t know how you did it, Simon,” his right ear twitches. “But…but I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. I should, I know I should, but for the life of me, whenever you’re near I can’t think straight. Please, when you’re back to,” you huff a tiny laugh, “whenever you’re back to walking in a man’s skin, explain it to me. Explain why I can’t think of anyone else but you.”

Avoiding the sheep, you step back into the hut and close the door as those dead eyes follow loyally, the wolf not breathing beyond a thin line of condensation wafting into the air.

You only make it five steps back to bed before the wooden barrier is opened loudly, hitting off the back wall and shutting closed on its own. Turning back quickly, startled, you’re met with a fast panting chest and a human hand that swipes blood away from his lips. Bare skin is close to yours, and your eyes widen at the instantaneous blown feeling of your pupils.

Simon’s face is above yours.

“Because you own half of my fuckin’ soul,” he breathes into your scalp, accent rich and heavy with implication. “Just as I own half of yours.”

Literal or a metaphor, you care not.

You both stay there, hearts pumping and skin tingling as the air increases in temperature—the sheet around you held in a tight fist suddenly seems almost suffocating. Your arms itch to drop it. Drop it now and let him see you; let him feel you like no other has. Where did these thoughts come from? Or…had they always been there?

The man hasn’t moved, and you know he won’t do anything unless you ask it of him, but you can smell the sweat on his skin, the scent of blood and musk. Quick death and dragging claw.

If he was fire, it would be a blessing to be burned.

“Simon,” you say, voice tight. He grunts like a damn dog, hands at his sides twitching as his bare chest shines. So many scars. You want to trace them, to feel them writhe. “You’re no good for me.”

“I know,” he growls.

You press your lips to his and breathe him down as the sheet falls from your shoulders, all-encompassing hands finding the swell of your hips and sliding behind them; gripping tightly. Your own dig at his waist, finding the bulk of his abs and the deep tapper of his v-line before you gasp at his hand kneading the flesh of your arse.

At the motion, Simon takes the opportunity to smirk before letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You release a small noise from the back of your throat, and he groans—one hand coming up to grip the base of your skull and maneuvering your head farther upward. He pulls back and presses into you, your face growing hot as he finds your neck and starts leaving deep open-mouthed kisses as his chest vibrates.

Lips swollen and sensitive, you whimper as he bites down at every other interval; arms around his waist and nails running up and down his spine. Simon shivers, hips lightly bucking as you press on the small of his back.

“Fuckin’ hell, Love,” he nuzzles under your ear, pupils wide and blackened, feral-like. “The things you do to me, yeah? Drivin’ me up a damn wall whenever I caught a whiff of what I did to you.”

Your stomach is rolling in tight knots of desire, lungs heaving as his hands squeeze and travel. At your core, you can already feel the slippery effect on your folds—a stain of sin that leaks out with nothing to hold it hostage inside of you. Face tightening as Simon groans long, he leaves hickey after hickey, as if unable to not mark your neck and under-ear.

The feeling of teeth there doesn’t even startle you, no, not now.

You ache with need, legs threatening to close in on themselves before Simon loops a hand in your inner thigh and keeps them open. The world around you blurs as your body tingles with a yearning that almost hurts.

“C’mon now, Sweetheart,” his lips come back to yours and you let him ravish you with long, deep kisses as his hand moves up. You balk forward and shiver as you feel the deep press of his growing lust for you against your stomach. “Don’t wanna know how long I’ve been dreamin’ about this.”

Your eyes flutter, and you gasp out through the joining of your hungry mouths, “Show me, Simon. Show it to me.”

His teeth bite slowly into your bottom lip, easing you into this game of wolf and sheep as his half-closed eyes open and dig into you. Simon’s fingers flex but don’t move, the other still at the base of your neck; your own have been leaving crescent-shaped marks on his back for a while, absentmindedly pulsing along with the heated blood in your veins.

There are still the remnants of sheep’s blood on his cheek—slashed up the side of his face and over his deep-set eyebrow, but you find you don’t care at all.

With how his fingers tap so close yet so far to that sensitive bundle and the dripping mess of your insides, nothing matters.

“My Girl wants that?” Simon hums, and as easily as if he were picking up a shirt from your shop, he lets his thick fingers push you open as you suck in a quick breath and sag into him. Into his neck you sigh, hitched airways making it seem tight. Instinctually you open your legs wider, whining at the press of calluses and scars in your clutch and sliding up your sensitive walls.

Simon stops and waits mid-way past his first knuckle with two fingers, groaning as you tighten and flex around him at the foreign sensation. His thumb at the back of your head moves up and down, his own thighs hard with eagerness and a stain in his abdomen from the lack of attention—but he cares little about his own leaking head, content only when able to give you pleasure in the purest form.

Your stomach as well as his are wet from his weeping tip, the chill of it making you both shiver and try to mash your bodies ever closer as the sheet below you two is tangled at your feet. The fireplace crackles.

“Simon,” you keen, and he answers with a bite of your shoulder before rubbing his head into your neck. Like opium, he’d said. If only he could tell you your scent now was convincing enough to make him lay on a bed of burning coals if only he could smell it for three more seconds.

Arousal. Lust. Animalistic desperation that Simon’s eager to bring you to the brink of—face sick with pleasure and eyes blown with numb satisfaction. Open and bare to him.

“Attagirl, that’s it,” he slides his digits deeper as your hips buck, making him grit his teeth to hold back a grunt as his dick is jostled. “So wet for me, fuckin’ perfect. Let me help, yeah?”

“Fuck, Simon,” he buries his fingers at the base, wasting no time in crooking them back toward him and pulling his wrist down. You moan loudly, stretching and being played like an instrument. Simon’s fingers repeat the motion until you’re a mess of rutting thighs and shaky legs.

The man takes down every moan and whimper—every sigh and jerk with a growing sense of pride. His dick is begging for friction, and the little bit he gets is from your stomach rubbing against it with every slippery sound of his fingers entering and exiting your core.

Simon’s mouth is open with a tight pant for breath, mirroring yours before the pad of his palm rubs against your bundle. You arch into him, whining and pleading instantly with a burning face, half convinced something had overtaken your body to make you act in such a way.

The man moves his fingers faster, making sure to maneuver his limb in such a way as to get your clit harder and harder with every pass, leaving you limp in his arms. Simon anchors you to him with a hand on the back of your shoulder blades, grip hard and knuckles white.

As your face screws up and a fire burns in your core, nails leave long scratches down the back of his torso as if he was a wooden trunk to tie a horse to—a rock in a storm.

“Simon,” you sigh out, head stuck under his chin. “S-so good, keep going.”

He opens his mouth as he rubs his chin on the top of your scalp, mixing your scents together potently.

“Look at me,” Simon utters, in his desperation to bring you to the edge, his accent is as deep as you’d ever heard it. “Look at me, Love. Wanna see your eyes watchin’ me as you fall apart. I’ll make it good, promise.”

“K…” You gasp as everything keeps building up and up, teeth clenching together and legs fighting to close around his hand—Simon bullies you open through the overstimulation; the flood of your senses. “Know you will!”

“So good to me, Sweetheart,” he grumbles, taking you by the side of your cheek and leaning back slightly so he can still let you rest on him but also watch.

Your eyes flutter with every rapid intrusion from Simon’s digits, tight and textured walls giving in to him as he pushes and prods, searching for something as his brows crease and his abdomen bunches. The man’s biceps flex and strain, feet wide open and lips parted as he locks onto your gaze.

“Fuck, what a bloody sight to see. Yeah, you enjoying that, then?” He mutters, and only when he pushes those teasing words out does he find a point inside of you that leaves your mouth opening and your toes curling; that he truly loses his breath.

Holding your head forward, Simon’s jaw slackens as your face contorted with pain-like expressions of confused pleasure, sweat glistening your forehead and your lips swollen—neck nothing more than raised skin from all of the man’s biting.

You strangle down such an instinctive and leg-shaking moan that Simon nearly forgets that he’s not even truly inside of you yet; balls tightening with building excitement and his length begging to be squeezed, used for nothing but that same expression on your face.

“Christ,” he breathes, teeth grinding and feeling you fight to keep his fingers in. Slick drips down his wrist, tapping the floor in a clear stain that could bring him to his knees.

You can’t even speak, spine curling with such raw electric sparks. If Simon isn’t careful, your legs will entirely fail you.

“Sim-” Your voice is high, mixed with panic as you let him hit that same point again and again like a hunter. “Simon!” You chant, fighting to meet his eyes as your vision blurs.

Everything was too hot, the scrape of his calluses on your flesh like a knife raking through your insides with pleasurable stabs.

“Jus’ like that, Love,” he breathes, not blinking. “C’mon know you feel it. Squeezin’ my fingers just right. Look at that pretty little face.”

You’re building and building, standing on the precipice of a large chasm. There’s nothing to stop you from going over the edge—and you don’t want anything too.

Your body tenses gradually, knees wobbling and your abdomen pulling into itself. A sharp claw seems to play with the string of your impending release, fiddling with it and taking it into its fingertip; rubbing it back and forth in a slow game.

Your breath comes out in short gasps, moans getting higher and more cut, Simon’s eyes are transfixed, panting like a dog, and, in an instant right before you break, moves his fingers at a break-neck pace.

Your sharp cry is caught on his lips, sucking it down as your orgasm floods his hand, leaving it a sticky mess that he continues finger-fuck you through with firm strokes. He’s whispering praises on your lips, keeping you up as his hand snaps to your waist when your legs buckle. Your walls move like a noose, letting the man fantasize how it would feel to have you speared open in his lap as you writhe and take him down in the low light.

All of these thoughts, this sight, make him harder by the second.

Simon keeps moving his fingers, drawing your explosive release out until you plead quietly for him to stop from overstimulation. The sensation makes your abused clit cause your spine to arch with every touch of his wet palm. He obliged, the sound of slick slapping halting, but his fingers didn’t leave your spasming cunt as your limp head fell to his shoulder.

Your chest heaves, aftershocks leaving your mind blank to all else but the press of skin and sweat. The air reeks of sex and hot breath.

Simon’s head clacks yours, fingers flexing as you whimper and dig your hands into his sides. He chuckles and slowly pulls out, taking long strings of cum with him as they string his fingers together and dribble to the floor from your slit. He holds you up, uncomfortably shifting his feet when your body jostles his raging erection—making him hold back a tight gasp.

“Good?” The man asks, gruff and casually. Your open mouth lays a firm kiss on his burning flesh as he side-eyes you waiting for a response.

“Yeah,” your voice is far off. Simon chuckles lowly.

In an easy sweep of his arms, you’re picked up and carried to the bed; set down to the plushness that’s down one sheet. You lay on your back, gazing up at the man as he stares down at you in turn.

Neither of you speaks until Simon has to rip his eyes away, clearing his throat. Your eyes travel down before widening at the violent red of the man’s length—the thing twitching and dripping pre-cum down to the base in an obvious plea for stimulation. Yet Simon makes no move to do anything.

“You should get some more rest—”

“Let me help,” you whisper, eyes widely innocent as they meet the browns that snap your way, those orbs slightly widening. “I own half your soul…right?”

Simon watches you, jaw loose.

“It looks painful,” you ease out, pointedly moving your gaze downward with unabashed boldness.

“Is,” he utters. If he was being honest, he was worried that he had been coming on too strong—that this part of the night might be going a bit far. You were a lady, after all, and he respected you as such. He needed confirmation.

“Then let me help, Simon.” Your eyes blink at him, hand coming up to trace the bulk of his thigh muscles. His breath goes shallow, self-control fraying fast. Just a little more. You lick your lips. “I want to feel you take me like no one else has. I want you to stay in this bed with me until the fire goes out and the light outside peels through the curtains. Can you do that for me?”

Your wet core pulses again, wanting—waiting for something more. Something only Simon could give you.

The man’s chest rattles. “Yes,” he relays, words low.

After a moment of eye contact, the man places his knee on the bed, shifting so that he has himself in between your legs; hands coming up beside your head. Your lungs are heavy, fingers coming up to rub over his blood-stained cheek as his nose brushes yours. Simon’s stubble itches you, but you still sigh constantly as he kisses you once more.

This was slower than the previous—less desperate though you don’t know how as you could feel the strain of his length prodding like a hot iron in your inner thigh. It made you slightly nervous, the size and the action itself, but you didn’t doubt who you wanted to be the one above you.

Simon kisses the side of your lips, nipping at the skin as he grunts out, “You sure?”

Brown eyes never waver as they stare you down. Any ounce of hesitation would be found immediately and the action would be over; Simon paraded around as a cold and heartless beast, but never had there been a man more considerate of your own safety. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You drag your fingers through his hair and he shudders, one grip sliding to your legs as the drag of barely-there claws makes your breath hitch. Your lips mutter, quietly, “Yes.”

“Gotta make me believe it, Sweetheart,” Simon kisses over all of the marks he left, slowly dragging the warm press of his mouth and side-eyeing you.

You glare down at him and feel his smirk on your skin, how he hooks his hand under your knee and lightly lifts the limb. Your muscles flex at the sudden spread of your legs, your hand in his hair grasping tighter. Simon sighs low as your body shifts, shivering at the slick heat he restrains himself from rutting against.

Face burning at your bare excitement, the man’s eyes glaze over.

“I’m sure, Simon.”

“Don’t wanna make you feel like you have to—”

“Simon,” you interrupt his comment, and the blond huffs, the air sliding over your heated skin.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.” You smile softly and drag his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. “Let me try…” Simon mutters on your lips, and soon both of his hands are pushing up your knees as you widely blink at the openness of your core before your legs are folded up.

You whine at the stretch, the embarrassment of having your dripping folds on full display. This was foreign to you.

Simon hums, looking down and groaning. He taps his forehead to yours as you breathe deeply, letting him take control.

“Okay?” He asks, and your heart skips a beat.

“Are you going to keep stalling,” you breathe, looking into his gaze teasingly. “Or are you going to show me how you can’t function without me beside you?”

There’s a stretch as he lines himself up, hips moving back and abdomen sliding over yours—your lungs stutter as his eyes glint at you; lips flicking in a smirk.

“You going to keep me here?” You breathe, voice breathy as Simon’s length begins to steadily press forward, your face twists as you take him down, lines forming on your forehead. “Make me,” his hands keep your legs up beside you, open as they tighten. His lids narrow in concentration at the tight vice of your walls, having to slowly bully his way into you inch by inch. “Make me tailor your clothes a-and spin your wool?”

The sounds from your joining bodies are vulgar. A slide and a coating of flesh with natural assistance as Simon’s jaw clenches, not able to help the jump of his pelvis as you moan and arch your back as he moves even farther into your clutch.

You both writhe as he bottoms out, bodies shaking at the intensity of the moment and the sparks under your flesh.

“Ah,” Simon strangles a whine, eyes tight shut as yours follow. Quick kisses are placed on your lips. “Don’t tempt me, yeah?”

The great stretch of your insides leaves you sighing, tiny waves of pain pushed back by pleasurable pulsing and the scrape of veins. His head lays in the hold of your womb, slick leaking out from the ring of your core.

“We,” your hips jerk, and Simon’s hands on your knees tighten until you know there’ll be bruises come morning. “We’re beyond temptation.”

Simon chuckles—his eyes dark and glimmering in the firelight. “Smart girl.”

He lets you adjust there for a moment, even if his dick is pleading with him to move and drive your back into the mattress; to see your face crease in rapture. But that wasn’t what his head wanted, no, he wanted this done right.

When you look at him and your thighs stop shaking, he carefully grinds himself into you, letting your bundle of nerves meet the wirehair of his happy trail and give himself the slightest feeling of relief. You bite your lip, one hand on Simon’s cheek and the other still in his hair.

The angle of your legs makes you feel him that much deeper, even as he simply grinds himself inside of you and doesn’t move much beyond that.

“Feels good, y’know that?” Simon mutters as your mouth takes down a slow breath, eyes stuck on each other as the man fully begins to remove himself and softly flinch his length back into you; exiting just enough before letting him re-enter. “Tight; warm.” He shudders, gritting his teeth. “C-can smell you like this—how much you want it. Always have.”

You whine at the words, tightening around him as he begins gently fucking you in earnest, the slap of skin and tight walls joining the crackle of wood. The scents on the air are a perfect mix of addictive pheromones—so potent even you can smell it as you try to meet every dig of his hips.

Simon’s face goes to your neck, nuzzling into it as his eyes go tight.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out a groan into your ear, mouth open.

The heat returns easily to you, the burning in your gut. Simon’s pelvis hits you, stimulating your clit every time in the perfect way, as if he’d glanced at your body once and immediately memorized what made you tick. His sweat drips and pools with your own, slick leaking out to the mattress and making you feel dirty in the best way as your cut-off sighs hit the ceiling. It's hot in here; nearly too hot to focus on the slide of skin and dig of your nails into his hair. It’s telling how fast you seem to hit that peak again, at the constant scrape of his veins and the push of your walls as if trying to force him in.

Your back arches into him, and Simon cants his hips faster, biting on your chin and pulling at your lips as his eyes watch with eagerness. His abdomen bunches at the sheer pleasure he feels making you feel like this, chest heaving and large build all but swallowing you below him.

“Simon,” you breathe, kissing him on his lips eagerly, growing desperate.

“Let me take care of you,” the man grunts hard, getting harder to focus, “trust me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, clenching your jaw as he brushes a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes go blurry for a moment. Your lips move without your brain understanding the slurred words. “Yes, I trust you. I…I…oh, fuck.”

He sighs and bites a whimper down as your walls flex, gripping him tighter and tighter.

“Knew I’d find you,” Simon pushes your legs harder into the mattress, form slightly shaking. You moan high into his mouth, eyes fluttering and knot growing tighter. “Knew I’d make it right, eh? Death can’t keep you away from me, not now. I’ll find you.”

You gasp, itching cord snapping and release spilling out around the plug of his dick as he continues on as you jerk and rut out of order; eyebrows pulled in. It isn’t long after that Simon follows you, shoving his lips on yours as his mouth parts with a tight cry. Inside of you the spill of his seed fills your womb and he fucks through it, hands releasing your legs to rub up and down your sides.

Your core floods as he stays there, resting and stationary above you, his weight heavy but not crushing. The both of you stare at one another and breathe down the heated air; all of the scents and the desire there—the unspoken bond that extends life and death.

Simon grunts and forces out, breathless, staring through blown pupils.

“I’ll always find you.”

In the morning there’s a pile of wool sitting in a cloth sack against the wall, and the sound of chopping wood outside. The curtains are drawn to the bright rays of the morning sun as they meet your softly smiling face, visage half-covered by the newly fitted sheets.

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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months

Text

Little Gift- Scramble

Pairing: Adult Dark Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Previous Part

Masterlist AO3

Gorgeous Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: It's time for you to understand the gravity of your situation.

Warnings: dubcon/non con, dark material read at your own risk MDNI, oral, explicit, alien x human, kidnapping, aged up Neteyam, aged up Lo'ak, slight degradation, angst, bondage, etc. (not exhaustive)

A/N: Can't thank you all enough for the support and buzz that this little series has gotten! Love you, pookies<3 Enjoy!

“Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” You whisper shakily.

Heights have never been your forte and neither has climbing but you are mere feet away from reaching where Neteyam has tied the knot to your leash. You can’t give up now. Your legs tremble and arms shake as you clamp around the tree trunk.

It’s ok. Everything is ok. Worst case scenario you fall down and land back in the kelku.

That is, if you fall to the right.

The left on the other hand…

You make the mistake of glancing down to see the vast distance between you and the forest floor. It doesn’t help that the thick forest canopy obscures your vision, letting your imagination run wild in guessing how far down the ground really is. You rest your forehead against the trunk and shut your eyes.

Breath in.

Breathe out.

One move at a time. That’s all that matters.

Finally wrangling the courage to climb further once more you carefully reach for the next branch and scoot yourself upwards. The thick bark scuffs your smooth skin and your hands are sure to already have blisters and slivers, but you are so close.

“Out of curiosity, if you somehow do manage to get that thing untied. What is your next move?”

You gasp, branch almost slipping from your grip in wake of being startled.

“You’ve been alone for what? Thirty minutes? And you still haven’t made it up a few meters. How do you expect to scale down several stories before Neteyam returns?” Lo’ak crosses his arms, hip popped and eyebrows raised.

“I…I was just…”

“No need to waste my time trying to suggest otherwise. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Neteyam did say you are quite the handful.” He sprawls across the kelku floor, arms folded back to keep him sitting upright while his legs spread leisurely. “Lucky me.”

“You…you are staying?” You voice quivers as a cramp starts to tighten one calf. This idea is looking more ridiculous by the second.

“Neteyam is convinced you need someone to check up on you while he is away. Hate to admit when he is right but then again here you are swinging over death in under an hour.”

Your arms begin to shake as every muscle locks frozen in place. Lo’ak lounges as your head spins in every which direction.

Instinct takes over before you can stop it and suddenly you are racing to reach for the next branch. Body practically flinging itself upwards, your ascent is messy and frantic. Your adrenaline is powered by one fact: you are running out of time. The RDA return home within a few days and Neteyam seldom leaves you alone.

So what if he sends his little brother to play babysitter?

It’s better odds than being smothered in the Olo’eyktan’s embrace all day.

A small branch snaps beneath your right foot. Stomach lurching to your throat you prepare for the massive fall ahead. You catch only a few feet of air before crashing into a hard chest. Lo’ak chuckles at your shrieks as he tucks you under his arm and easily scales down the tree.

He may have saved your life but you shoot him with a scathing look as he sets you down on the the woven floor.

“You’re welcome.” He snorts, returning to his lounged position.

The irony taste of blood erupts over your tongue when your teeth finally break skin.

You want to hate him. You do hate him. He laughs and watches your nightmare with a half amused grin ,but you need to be smart.

“Thank you.” You whisper. He simply shrugs and waves it off. “I’ve just been so scared.” This time you purposefully bite your bottom lip, looking up at him through thick lashes. It’s easy to let tears create a cloud over your eyes. “I want to go home.”

His reaction is far from the one you hope.

A harsh laugh rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head.

“Oh yes it must be so hard to be away from those comforting steel walls and mushy frozen meals.” He scoffs as if it is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. It hurts and for some reason you feel the need to defend your desires.

“I wasn’t talking about Bridgehead, asshole! Or have you forgotten they are returning to Earth within the week?”

“Cause that is so much better.” Lo’ak sneers.

“You don’t know what you are talking about-”

“No you don’t know what you are talking about. What do you think is back on that dying planet? Maybe they’ve shown you some shiny pictures back in your steel cage but the reveal is deeply disappointing.” He rolls his eyes, hands reaching back to tie his hair.

“How would you know? You’ve never been!”

“Yes and neither have you but unlike you I have reliable witnesses.”

Your nails create half moons in your palm as they ball into fists. The heat from your cheeks has now traveled to the tips of your ears. Screw the size difference, you are ready to knock him on his ass.

You can’t though and not just because your strength is no match for his own. Getting riled up by your captor’s brother is a waste of time and Neteyam never said when he would be back. Forcing your features to soften you left out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t need you to understand but…what would it hurt to help me? You could tell him you found the kelku empty. That’s all I’m asking.” You shuffle onto your knees, swallowing your pride as you prepare to beg.

“What would it hurt? A lot actually. Every minute he spends with you is another that I get him off my ass. Besides, when Neteyam isn’t happy no one is happy.”

“He is Olo’eyktan! Half of the women in your village must be chasing him down. His fascination with me is sure to be replaced by another within the week.” You argue, fidgeting with the pink ribbon Neteyam had tied around your neck. The knot of the bow is extra tight this time, no doubt a ploy to get you to stop ripping it off.

“Oh yes, six months of obsession gone in a week.”

Your mouth runs dry.

“Six months?”

For the first time Lo’ak’s interest is peaked. His tail stills and large ears fold forward.

“Oh, you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, do you?” He shakes his head, tongue clicking softly. “You poor thing,” he says but the words are anything but sympathetic.

“Six months, how…. But I didn’t even….”

“Did you think that the RDA picked you from a lineup and Neteyam just happily handed over that unobtanium?”

It sounds ridiculous coming from Lo’ak’s mouth now but what else were you meant to believe? You’ve never met Neteyam before. The entire situation has bizarre written all over it. What is one more offbeat detail?

“He’s been talking about you for months, tawtute. Been driving me crazy actually.”

Unease sinks its claws into you.

“From what I understand, he had your schedule down. Those little nature walks you take daily just outside the base? Did you really think a defenseless human like you would have survived Pandora’s forest for that long without a protector?”

“He’s been watching me.” The thought slips from your lips without permission but Lo’ak nods anyways.

The past few months replay in your mind’s eyes. All those times you had been ecstatic to have some time alone in the fresh air. Every little conversation you had with yourself as you walked, running through checklists and even giving yourself reassuring words after a hard day. How many of those times had he been there?

Oh God, all those times the heat had been too much and you had gone skinny dipping!

Was that time ever sacred? Had he truly been watching from the sidelines this whole time with you none the wiser? And yet, that is the scariest realization.

You had no idea.

It brings into focus the horrible juxtaposition between you two.

He had watched you through the greenery easily while you had not a single inkling of being in another’s presence. And if Lo’ak’s words are anything to go off of, you too had been oblivious as he kept other predators at bay.

No wonder he talks to you like a naive child.

Your lungs seize, squeezing the air from them until it’s difficult to breathe. For a moment you look around for your mask, panicked as you assume that the serum for the day has somehow run out early. However one shaky breath in shows that this has nothing to do with carbon dioxide levels and everything to do with the panic that holds you hostage.

Six months.

Six months!

What had he seen? Was it only your walks through the forest or had there been more? How did you spark his interest in the first place? Among hundreds of soldiers and scientists you had never stood out as anyone extraordinary. Having been born on this planet has put you in the strained position of having little to no role, and yet you’ve somehow drawn the attention of the one person that has the power to turn your life inside out.

How much does he know about you?

Lo’ak clears his throat, snapping you out of your spiral.

“You’re not going to faint are you? Cause I really don’t want to be blamed for that one.”

Sweat beads at your temple and your body trembles as your knees tuck to your chin. You can’t necessarily blame Lo’ak for being concerned, not when your entire world is spinning around you.

“Look, I’m going to give you some advice simply because you look like you need it.” He says, propping one knee up. “Stop fighting it. Forget about that hell hole you lived in. Forget about that damned planet and take advantage of what you have here. Save yourself some time and start listening to my brother. If you’re waiting for him to give out, you’ll be waiting forever.”

You don’t answer. There are too many things to say. Too many things to turn over in your head, enough to bloom a pounding headache.

Horns sound through the forest, followed by distant Na’vi calls in response.

Neteyam’s back.

Lo’ak gently pats your leg like you’re old friends. “Good talk.” He says before standing up. You stop him before he leaves though.

“Wait you….you aren’t going to tell him though, right? About…earlier?”

A wide grin spreads across his face.

“Neteyam’s right, you are adorable.”

And with that, Lo’ak is gone.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, legs shaking over Neteyam’s shoulders.

Pleasure shoots through you like lightning but as orgasm after orgasm is pulled from your weeping pussy, his flicking tongue brings a sharp edge. You’ve lost count at this point of how many times your climax has spread over his smirking lips. If this continues any longer you are sure your body will give out.

“Hold still.” He firmly rasps against your clit.

Although those muscular arms are wrapped around your thighs, you know he could hold them tighter. But instead Neteyam gives just enough space for you to wiggle and squirm desperately. It’s clear he enjoys the struggle.

“No more!” You screech, roughly pushing at the top of his head. He doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead, his tongue travels down to gently tease at your opening. When it pushes inside of your clenching pussy the stretch is enough to make you gasp. It’s not the first time and you know it won’t be the last but over the past few days he has at least let you catch a reprieve between rounds.

He pulls back, catching his breath with a dopey grin.

“So sweet, little gift.” He wastes no time in diving back in, but there is little that can be done about it as you are pushed up against the wall and sat on his shoulders. Your fingers tangle into his braids, holding on for dear life. Nine feet suddenly feels so much higher than you remember.

He attacks your overstimulated cunt ferociously, giving no heed to your shaking body or wild pleas. His mouth opens to encompass your entire pussy, lips creating a seal around the area as he sucks harshly. It’s beyond anything you have ever experienced with human men and there are no resources in your arsenal to prepare you for the intense feeling.

“I can’t I can’t IcanticantIcant.” The words flow from your lips into a tangled mess and Neteyam’s tongue juts out to tap that bundle of nerves rapidly. The sound that comes from you is one you do not recognize. His ears perk up in response, tail lashing back and forth.

If anything your sounds egg him on, tongue thrashing desperately and massaging every crevice of sensitive area between your folds. The heat is so much that you feel as if your body will ricket apart into pieces and yet the desire never wains. Although the sensory overload is painful, you can’t stop your hips from thrusting back against his soaked lips.

Delight dances in his wide golden orbs as he sneaks a glance up at you.

You shut them tight in response.

It’s the way he looks at you that feels more intimate than anything else.

Even more personal than the hands that explore your body freely or the toned Na’vi form that presses you into the hammock at night.

His gaze is also the one thing you can semi avoid, at least for now.

When his nails reach back to dig into your plush cheeks and his tongue enters you once more another climax rockets through you. Neteyam’s flat nose nudges at your clit fiercely while he continues to stretch you out. The pain and pleasure bleed into one another but all you know is that it’s overwhelming.

Blood pounding so hard at your ears you barely make out those pathetic sounds coming from your lips.

Neteyam doesn’t stop until you are yanking at his hair and tears stream down your cheeks.

He leans back to admire his handy work, chin shimmering with your sweet juices. Thumb gently sliding down your puffy lips he hums in satisfaction. You’re absolutely debauched. You know that. There is no need to look down in order to know that between your thighs is a sticky mess.

“That will do, I think.” He murmurs and your head leans back against the wall to catch your breath.

Relief is cut short however when you are suddenly slid down his body and manhandled to have your legs wrapped around his narrow waist. He smiles at your little shriek and the way you cling to his shoulders.

“Mawey, tiyawn.”

“Teyam, I’m tired.”

“I know, but a good pet takes her punishment first.”

Your heart lurches.

“But I thought-”

The words morph into a gasp when one long finger probes at your entrance. Collecting the leaking slick and cum there, Neteyam uses that to glide into your still overstimulated pussy. Bucking to get out or range only causes you to hit the kelku post and incidentally sink that finger in deeper. You cry out at the stretch, even with the preparation it feels like so much more than you could imagine one finger to be.

“That’s it, little gift. Just relax. Take it all.” And by some insane miracle you manage to take him down to the last knuckle.

“I was planning on letting you adjust to just my tongue for a while but after this morning’s…events, I think we need to quicken your training. Don’t you think, pet?”

Nothing but a silent scream comes from your parted lips. And you most definitely fail to give a response when that digit curls to find its target easily. Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind.

“Although, I admit I am partly to blame. I should’ve known better than to leave you alone. Should’ve known my little gift would miss me.” He purrs, craning his neck down to run his nose along your shoulder and throat.

That slippery digit pulls out but only to have the tip of another join it at your entrance. On instinct you brace yourself but Netyeam whispers sweet nothings into your ear, promising a reward if you just relax for him. Before you know it he is using both to scissor you open.

“It's a learning process for both of us.” Neteyam casually sighs, as if he doesn’t have two fingers tearing you apart from inside as your brain cells fry to ash. At this point he may as well be talking to himself.

His tail slinks around your waist as he adds a third finger slowly.

“But don’t worry, pet.” They massage at your sweet spot sinfully until you are shaking like a leaf. “I’d never give up on you.” And those are surely the scariest words Neteyam has ever said and yet their full magnitude can’t hit you now with the state you’re in.

He kisses your cheek softly before starting a steady pace in and out of your tight pussy.

“T-tey tey ah Teyam.” You stutter out, not sure how or what you are asking for but feeling like you need to at least try.

“Mawey, pet.” He says simply, eyes trained on where his slick fingers disappear into your heat.

The stretch and pleasure coalesce together along with your trembling nerves until you can not differentiate clearly between the various sensations. Your cheeks are wet with tears and eyes staring in a daze up at him as little whimpers rise occasionally.

“Fuck, this tiny pussy is squeezing my fingers so well.”

You collapse against him, cheek pressed against his collarbone as he continues to hold your weight with one arm.

“Stay awake, oeyӓ tiyawn.”

You hardly listen as you’re carried to the hammock and laid down. Painfully slow, his fingers dip from your tight cunt and your body sags at the loss.

“Almost done.”

That catches your attention, intuition sparking as you lazily watch Neteyam riffle through a bag.

“Got something special for your training. To start it at least.”

The plastic strange object looks small in his big hands but when he brings it to rest on your stomach the size makes your eyes bulge.

You’re wide awake now.

“Neteyam no, please! I don’t think I can I-I”

“It’s just a small one, little gift. Have to get you stretched out somehow if you ever hope to take me.” He smirks, squeezing your right thigh for comfort.

“No no but I-I can’t because….because I-I…..I’ve never used toys before.” The lie is a knee jerk reaction and one not elegantly delivered.

It earns you a dark look, the Olo’eyktan’s lips turning downward. Suddenly your face is caught in his hand, cheeks squishing beneath his fingers.

“Oh really? And what would you call that pink toy you love so much?”

Oh God. When did he see that?

How did he see that?

How much of your life has been observed by this man?

“I don’t appreciate being lied to. I also don’t appreciate coming home to have my brother tell me my tiyawn almost killed herself falling out of a tree today. Or seeing how your misbehavior has marked up my property.” He gestures to the scuffs and scrapes along your inner thighs. “Should we really be adding another infraction to the list today?”

Your head is shaking before he even finishes.

“I didn’t think so.” He sighs. “Now be a good girl and spread those pretty legs.” You obey as he pulls you to the edge of the hammock, legs dangling over the side.

With some time and patience the toy slowly slips inside of you inch by inch. In some ways it's smaller than Neteyam’s three fingers but it’s also plastic and cold. Not nearly as pleasurable as his warmth.

“There we go.” He praises once it is seated all the way inside. “So pretty.” He kisses right over your filled pussy and you shiver.

Settling into bed is more difficult than usual. It’s expected to have his larger body completely wrapped around you, making sure there is no room for escape but now every time you squirm to get comfortable the toy shifts inside of you.

“Stop moving, tiyawn. It’s been a long day.” He throws one leg over your hips for good measure. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you sleep with it off.”

Off?

You crane your neck to face him and see that there is a tiny remote grasped between his fingers. Your eyes widen, movements ceasing immediately. Neteyam smiles into your hair whispering sweet nothings until his voice starts to become lazy with sleep.

Eventually his breaths deepen while you pout silently in the dark. The toy is pressing at that bundle of nerves again but when you shuffle slightly the Olo’eyktan lets out a deep groan and pulls you flush against him.

More to come! If you enjoyed please don't be afraid to comment, reblog, or even send an anonymous ask with your thoughts. Feedback truly means the world to me and motivates me to keep writing and updating.

More of Little Gift to come;)

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy

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ddejavvu · 10 months

Text

tonight i'm juuuust thinking about best friend!james who has very little boundaries with you <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

he's your absolute best friend in the world, you probably grew up together or got very close over a period of years, you probably practiced kissing on each other, you spend more time sleeping together than alone, etc etc etc. but lately it's been really hot out, so you've neglected both cuddling and clothes. You're sleeping in a shitty, skimpy bra, and some old granny panties, and james is conked out in his bed, probably in boxers or briefs. you're asleep, but the mattress moves and it wakes you. you instantly recognize the familiar feeling of james getting into bed with you, and you forget that it's too hot to cuddle when you roll over to let him in.

you probably greet him with a sleepy, hi, jamie, that he returns with a gruff, raspy, 'hi, love'. it takes all of his brainpower just to say those words, and he's falling beside you like a tree chopped in the forest. instantly he's snoozing again, cheek smushed against your pillow as he wrestles you into his grip like normal.

except, it isn't normal.

because he's naked, and oh my god you've seen him naked before, and he's seen you, no biggie! you've skinny dipped before, you've changed after a shower, it happens, best friends see everything. but you've never touched him while he was naked before, and his fucking cock is literally laying on the bed right next to you?? hello??

you freeze up but you nudge his arm like jamie,, love

'hm?'

'your cock is out'

'what?'

'your- james, you're naked, your- your cock is out.'

'oh,' he mumbles, like you've told him the weather forecast for the next day, 'yeah.'

'yeah? james, you- get your cock out of my bed!'

'wh- it's bloody attached to me!' he whines, smothering his face in the pillow to get away from your nagging, 's'fine, darling, what, you think it's gonna bite you? jus' go t'sleep, i'm tired.'

he's tired?? he's tired?? his actual, literal dick is just. on your bedsheets rn. right next to you. and he's tired? you really don't know what to say. so you don't, you don't say anything, you just sit there staring wide-eyed at the wall, wondering how in the hell you're going to sleep knowing your best friend's cock is out right next to you. you're desperately trying to tamp down any arousal that rises between your thighs, because he's literally already snoring beside you but there is just something so infuriatingly attractive and arousing about james not caring at all that he's completely exposed, he's just tired and sleepy and lovey and wants to hold you and his brain's not working to tell him he needs to cover up. he just wants to lay with you, pants be damned <3

#bonus points for james being stupidly big #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter smut #james potter fanfiction

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gigabyte-flare · 11 months

Text

There's No Escape (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You find out that dedication pays off as you struggle with conflicting feelings for your clearly traumatized captor.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.4k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: I appreciate everyone's patience while I worked to get this one out. Hopefully it's worth the wait, enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You were in heaven.

Or… at least as close to heaven as you could get in your current predicament.

You soak yourself in the master bathroom tub, something Leon let you do if you were good, it felt so good on your sore muscles first thing in the morning. You sit there, your eyes closed; it was one of those part bathtub, part jacuzzi things that probably cost Leon a fortune. It was huge, you figured it could fit at least four people.

The bathroom itself had a modern aesthetic. There was the tub, across from that was a stand up shower, completely enclosed in glass with a rainfall shower head. The sink and vanity were behind you in front of the door heading into the master bedroom. The best part though? The floor to ceiling window that overlooked the vast forest. The sun shone through the morning mist and trees, scattering god rays everywhere. You had to give credit for that; Leon had great taste in architecture.

Your mind wanders as you open your eyes to enjoy the view of the forest. How long have you been here? Weeks? Months? You had tried to keep track but found it next to impossible. All the days seemed to blend together, your days made up of either Leon being attached to your hip or him ‘going into town’ (whatever that means) for work while you stayed there; you liked these days to yourself the most. In the evenings Leon would fuck you, his desire to get you pregnant was seemingly insatiable; hence why you were almost always sore in the morning.

It was impossible to fight him when he felt so fucking good, fucking asshole.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when you hear the bathroom door open.

“Alright, babygirl, tub time is over, time to have breakfast.”

You inwardly groan, opening your eyes and glaring at Leon.

“Don’t be like that, you don’t want Daddy to put you in timeout again, do you?”

You let out a sigh as you start to climb out, however, Leon scoops you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom so you could get dressed.

“Don’t want you slipping and falling on that wet tile. I can’t have my princess hurting herself, can I?”

In any other situation, you think this gesture would be adorable as hell, but this is not any other situation due to the fact that Leon is fucking nuts. He sets you down onto the bed before opening up the closet to pick out your outfit. One of his favorite things to do was to dress you up like you were his personal doll; this started within the past week.

It’s like the more and more time you are trapped in this house with him, the weirder he gets.

“Here we are!” He suddenly exclaims, pulling out a flowy, short summer dress from the closet.

He walks over to you, you have seated yourself at the end of the bed with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Move your arms, babygirl,” Leon commands, his voice having a hint of annoyance.

Letting out a sigh, you lift your arms up over your head and Leon slips the dress onto you. When he gets the dress fitted onto you, he takes a step back as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork.

“Such a pretty doll you are. What do you say to Daddy for dressing you up so nice?”

You look away from him, once again wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Leon snarls.

You immediately look back at him, “thank you, Daddy…”

His expression immediately softens, “you’re welcome baby,” he pries one of your arms away from you, grasping your hand, “let’s go get you some breakfast, hm?”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The sound of a saw can be heard coming from a small shed on Leon’s property. Inside, Leon was diligently working, taking the piece of wood he had just cut and bringing it over to his project he was working on, a crib.

Leon knew something you didn’t, you had been asleep when he was able to draw some blood from you with a small needle and bring that sample with him to work one day. He gave it to the lab techs to test, you asked them to see if they could tell if you were pregnant, telling them that he wanted to surprise you with the good news. It took a couple days, but they let him know in an email that you were, in fact, pregnant with his child.

It took everything in him not to immediately tell you, so he took that energy and spent it on building the crib. In the shed, he had several monitors that showed the cameras inside the house so that he could keep an eye on you while he worked. You were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap, that was until he watched you turn onto your back, dipping one of your hands in between your legs.

He watched in awe as you pleasured yourself. He had read that sometimes a woman’s sex drive will skyrocket when they’re pregnant, thankfully that seems to be true for you. He continues to work on the crib, stopping to look at the camera feed in the bedroom occasionally. The picture was grainy, but he could tell your fingers were buried inside you and you appeared to be saying his name. This only served to motivate him to get this crib done.

What a good girl.

At some point, he unconsciously stops, staring into the camera feed as you’re still fingering yourself, a solid 45 minutes has passed by at least. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, eventually finding himself digging his hardening cock out of his pants to get himself off from watching you. After a few minutes of this, he tucks his throbbing cock back into his pants and makes his way into the house

As soon as he opens the front door, he’s immediately greeted by the sound of your animalistic moans coming from the bedroom. As he stalks through the house, he begins undoing his belt and practically ripping off his own pants and underwear. As he steps through the threshold into the bedroom now naked from the waist down, he sees you still laying on the bed, fingers buried into you with one hand while the other is rubbing circles into your swollen clit. You sit up slightly to look at Leon, tears streaming down your face.

He wastes no time pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you, his lips sealing over yours as he buried his cock deep inside your crying cunt. His thrusts are hungry and determined, causing you to practically scream his name. He feels your nails claw into his back. He buries his face into neck to mark you with loving bruises as his cock continues its relentless assault on your pussy.

You let out an ear piercing scream as you cum all over his cock, drenching him in your juices as you continue to claw into his back, your nails drawing blood. Letting out a low growl, Leon pushes himself as deep as he could possibly go, shooting his load into you, coating your pussy walls pure white. Propping himself up by his arms, he looks down at you, still buried inside you. He’s breathing heavily, his skin coated in sweat.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

On one hand, you were so pissed at yourself for enjoying every second of that, on the other, you were so thankful Leon had come in to finally give you your release. You had no clue what had come over you, all of a sudden you were blindsided by an insatiable hunger that no amount of fingering yourself and clit rubbing was going to satisfy, you needed something that hit deeper.

You and Leon look at each other, his arms caging you beneath him. Eventually he leans down, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before he finally pulls out of you. A rush of his cum leaks out of you. Pulling your dress down, you sit up and sit on the end of the bed as you watch Leon retrieve his discarded shirt, putting it back on before walking out of the bedroom; you assume his pants and boxers are out there somewhere. You stand up, immediately feeling his release drip down your legs, a painful reminder of your lack of willpower against Leon.

You follow Leon out of the bedroom, watching as he gets his boxers and pants back on. He looks over at you, smiling.

“Sorry for bursting in like that, you looked like you needed some help on the cameras and I just couldn’t resist.”

You swallow hard, “it’s ok, Daddy, I’m thankful you came in when you did…”

Admitting that made you sick to your stomach, you wrap your arms around yourself again, hugging yourself gently.

“Put some shoes on and come with me to the work shed, I have something to show you that I’ve been working on for you.”

There’s a shoe rack over by the front door, you see a pair of your sandals along with pairs of boots and sneakers, probably all Leon’s. You walk over, grabbing the sandals and putting them on.

He gives you a dark look, “now, don’t get any ideas when we’re outside. I’m trusting you. You need to stay next to me at all times outside, understood?”

You stand next to him at the front door, giving him a slight nod before he opens the door. As both of you step outside, you inhale deeply, taking in the calming smell of the forest. When was the last time you were outside? You truly couldn’t recall. The shed was a ways away from the main house, you follow Leon on a well beaten path away from the house. Before long, you see the shed, which honestly was the size of a small house. The door to the shed was wide open, you assume Leon had left it open while he was rushing to get back to the house, to get to you.

You step inside and you quickly realize the shed actually was a small house. The room you were in probably used to be a living room however now it had various things scattered about, mostly tools and other stuff used for building things. You follow him into what used to be the kitchen, the tile floor covered in sawdust. There was a workbench in the middle with a table saw and Leon had removed the doors off the cabinets for easy access to his tools.

“When I bought this property, this little house used to be the original building until I built the new house. I figured I’d put this building to good use, but that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

He smiles at you before gesturing to something in the back next to the workbench, you gasp as your eyes settle on the half built piece of furniture.

“Is… is that a crib?!” you ask, a slight hint of panic in your voice.

“It is, and I have another surprise for you,” he continues as he grabs a piece of paper off the work bench, bringing it over to you.

You take the sheet from him, confused at first, it appeared to be results of a blood test, with elevated levels of hGC, whatever that means.

“Leon, I don’t really know what I’m looking at…”

“Come again?”

You mentally roll your eyes, “Daddy, I don’t know what this paper means.”

You watch as a smile slowly appears across Leon’s lips, his eyes locked onto you, “it means you’re pregnant, babygirl.”

“What?” you reply in utter disbelief.

“I took a sample of your blood with me to work and had the lab boys test it. I wanted to be able to give you the good news!”

Good news? GOOD NEWS? This was the furthest thing from good news. You start hyperventilating, the realization that you are tied to Leon forever now sinking in. You collapse to your knees, sobbing violently.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Why are you crying?

Leon stood there, watching you as you collapsed to the floor, utterly confused. You should be happy, why aren’t you happy? Leon’s lifelong dream of starting a family, especially with the love of his life, was finally coming true. When he had seen the results, he was completely overwhelmed with joy, so why aren’t you?

“Sweetheart, are you afraid…?” he began, kneeling down to you so that he was at your eye level, “there’s no need to be afraid, you’re going to be the most beautiful and perfect mommy to our baby.”

You continue to cry, big, heavy tears falling from your face as you struggle to breathe. Leon reaches out to you, caressing your cheek and wiping tears from your eyes, “I’m going to take such good care of you during this pregnancy, I promise.”

He was trying so hard to comfort you, but the more he spoke, the more your sobs got more intense. He suddenly grabs you by your arm, forcing you back onto your feet, but that didn’t stop you from crying.

“Baby, please tell Daddy what’s wrong. Don’t you want my baby?”

“NO!” you scream at him without even the slightest hesitation, your body violently trembling.

In that moment, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. What do you mean you don’t want his baby? What began as sadness then evolved into full on rage as his anger coursed through his veins. He looks down at you, sees you still crying. However, he knew he couldn’t act on his anger, he didn’t want to risk losing the baby. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

He gently wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him, pressing you to his chest. You bury your face into his chest, tears staining his shirt. He simply held you there in his arms, letting you cry it all out. Eventually, you did finally stop crying, much to Leon’s relief. He runs his hand through your hair as he looks down at you, your face still buried in his pecs.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’ll be ok. We’re finally going to be a happy family.”

Part 6

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

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nieves-de-sugui · 11 months

Text

A Quick History of BL

As someone who wrote a thesis on this very subject a few years ago, here is the short version of how BL has evolved throughout the years. For the new comers ❤

a minute of silence for the original form of this post that tumblr decied to not save right after I saved it

I am going to go with a chronological approach. Unfortunately, I cannot put everything in one post so if there’s any questions about this or that aspect of the history of BL that you want to know and it’s not talked about here, you are welcome to ask me directly :)

Context and influences - Japan in the 60′s

Before the US forced Japan to open its borders to the outside world in the 1800s, homosexual practices were common place between budist monks, samurais and kabuki actors. During the Edo period (1600s to 1800s) there was a very rich amount of poetry, art, books (such as Nanshoku Okagami (The Great Mirror of Male Love) by Ihara Saikaku) and codes of conduct about how to have a good master/aprentice relationship, kinda like the greeks if you know what I mean. However, with the arrival of western influences, in order to become a more “civilized” country, it was all put in the closet.

Yet, in the 60′s Japan started to pick it up again through literature about young androginous beautiful boys (aka bishounen). On one hand, in 1961, the novel Koibitotachi no Mori (A Lover’s Forest) by Mari Mori was published. It tells the story of a young and beautiful 19 year old worker and a half french half japanese aristocrat, and their tragic romance. On the other hand, Taruho Inagaki wrote Shounen ai no Bigaku (The esthetics of boy-love), an essay on aesthetic eroticism (of which he wrote a lot of). All this was know as Tanbi (lit. aesthetic) literature. It generally refered to literature with implied homosexuality and homoeroticism such as works by Oscar Wilde, Jean Cocteau, etc. And of course, Mori and Inagaki.

In chinese tanbi is read as danmei (term used to refer to BL novels in china today, ie: The Untamed it’s all connected friends).

From the birth of Shonen Ai to Yaoi - 70′s to the late 80′s

Around the beginning of the 70′s, shoujo was being revolutionized by the Year 24 Group, a generation of women manga authors (mangaka) who started to explore new themes. Among them, their interest in tanbi gave birth to a new subgenre: Shounen ai.

Their most known manga were:

Kaze to Ki no Uta (The Ballad of the Wind and Trees) by Keiko Takemiya, and Toma no Shinzo (The Heart of Thomas) by Moto Hagio

Their stories are characterized by having suffering eurpoean bishounen in boarding schools, living an idealized perfect love (meaning passionate) that, despite the tragic end of one of them, lives forever in the other.

As this genre starts getting popular, more and more fans of these stories start making their own self published manga, aka doujinshi, of the genre. It is around this time that the term Yaoi is coined. Meaning “YAma nashi, Ochi nashi, Imi nashi” (no climax, no fall, no meaning). Basically PWP fanfiction, for the most part. Doujinshis could be considered an equivalent of fanfiction in manga form. It is also here that the term Fujoshi (aka Rotten Girl, for liking rotten things) starts being used to refer to women readers of yaoi.

With this rise in popularity come the start of the commercialization of the genre. Which meant the publication of magazines dedicated solely to yaoi/shonen ai/BL. The most popular yaoi manga magazine at the time was June. The common trait of their stories being the therapeutic power of the love between the mains. The traumatized character would heal throught this newfound love.

Most of the stories at this time happened in the West (Europe or the States) as the exploration of these dark themes intertwined with homosexual romance and homoeroticism still feel safer to explore as a foreign concept. One example would be Banana Fish (1985).

Commercialization and Yaoi Ronso - 90′s

As more publishing houses pick the genre up, the term Boys Love is used to include every type of manga about homosexuality made for women.

The increasing amount of BL series sees a changes in its themes:

the start of the “gay for you” trope where one mantains their heterosexuality despite being in a homsexual relationship,

the uke/seme dynamic (mirroring hetero realtionships) also relating to physical appearence (one being more feminine, the other being more masculine),

the use of rape as an act love (sexual violence has always been present but here it becomes a staple),

anal sex as the only type of sex,

older and more masculine men start to appear

they now happen in Japan

Good examples of the presence of these themes in manga are Gravitation (1996) or Yatteranneeze (1995).

However in 1992, Masaki Sato (a gay activist/drag queen) wrote a letter in a small scale feminist magazine attacking yaoi and pointing out how it “represented a kind of misappropriation or distortion of gay life that impacted negatively upon Japanese gay men”. The female readers of yaoi responded, defending the genre as a means to escape gender roles and explore sexual themes that was never meant to represent the realities of gay men. This is know as the Yaoi Ronso (Yaoi Debates).

The debate ended with both sides understanding more of each other, with mangakas starting to include queer views in their works. It also started the academic reasearch of BL.

Yet, it is a debate that has been restarted more than once, as it is still relevant despite the evolution of the genre.

more on this on another post

Globalization and coining of BL - 2000′s

By the beginning of the 2000s BL is being sold all over the world (like all manga), and has become a stable industry. We could say it has finally become it’s own genre.

Some of the most well known manga series, to us (in the west), of the time are:

Junjou Romantica 2002 Koi Suru Boukun 2004 Love Pistols 2004 Haru wo Daiteita 1999

all of these have anime adaptations for the curious ones

We also start seeing short anime adaptations or special episodes of the most popular series, with questionable themes, such as: adoptive father x adoptive son (Papa to Kiss in the Dark 2005), father x son’s friend (Kirepapa 2008), etc...

However the themes remain more or less the same. Junjou Romantica’s love story starts with a non-con sex scene by the older one (masc, seme) to the younger one (more feminine, uke) addressed years later in the manga btw. Koi Suru Boukun’s love story is triggered by aphrodisiacs and rape. They’re still very present in the stories but slowly going away. A mangaka that represents this era could be Natsume Isaku (Candy Color Paradox 2010).

Change is slow in Japan. Even though the voices of LGBT+ people started to be taken into account in the genre it is not until later that we see it reflect in the mangas themselves. However, we can already see the start of this in Doukyusei (Classmates) (2006) by Asumiko Nakamura. Also Kinou Nani Tabeta? (2007) which is actually part of a more mature genre: Seinen.

It is my personal (subjective) theory that the BL of this era was the one that got popular outside of Japan, which is why we see lots of references to the themes, tropes and dynamics of this time in today’s BL series.

The LGBTzation of BL and the rise of webtoons - 2010′s to 2020′s

Slowly but surely LGBT characters and themes enter the scene of BL. Existing simultaneously with the previous tropes and themes, we start seeing a shift in these stories. We now see:

characters that identify as gay or some type of queer

discussions about homophobia

more mature themes about life and romance

At the same time as we get the usual love stories with the usual themes, a new trend starts to take over. And we get simultaneously, cute, sometimes questionable but light love stories:

Love Stage 2010 Ashita wa Docchi da! 2011 Kieta Hatsukoi 2019

More profound stories and darker or more complex themes:

Blue Sky Complex 2013 Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai 2011 (mafias) Given 2013 (suicide) Hidamari ga Kikoeru 2013 (deafness)

And others that adress the queer experience in a more mature way (which might actually fall into the Seinen genre)

Itoshi no Nekokke 2010 (slice of life, queer characters) Smells like Green Spirit 2011 (two ways to deal with a homphobic society) Strange 2014 (relationships between men) Shimanami Tasogare 2015 (an LGBT group helps a closeted gay) Old Fashioned Cupcake 2019 (you know this one 😉) Bokura no Micro na Shuumatsu 2020 (the end of the world)

As queer stories are explored, BL mangakas and mangakas from other genres start to consider more stories about queer people such as the Josei Genderless Danshi ni Aisaretemasu (My Androgynous Boyfriend) (2018) by Tamekou, or the Shoujo Goukon ni Itarra Onna ga Inakatta Hanashi (The story of when I went to a mixer and there were no women) (2021) by Nana Aokawa.

Still, we can see two realities live side by side. Doukyuusei gets adapted into an impactful animated movie in 2016, meanwhile Banana Fish gets an anime adaptation that keeps the homoeroticism but not the homosexuality.

For those who might be interested. Here are some of the authors that represent the first half of this era, where they start to include newer points of view:

Scarlet Beriko, HAYAKAWA Nojiko, KURAHASHI Tomo, OGERETSU Tanaka, Harada, KII Kanna (Stranger by the Sea), etc...

And authors that while keeping classical themes break the stereotypes in a subtle manner:

CTK, ZAKK, Jyanome, Cocomi, Hidebu Takahashi, SUZUMARU Minta, etc...

Mangakas also no longer stick to one genre only. They explore whichever of them they want, from BL to Seinen to others.

ie: Tamekou,

or Asumiko Nakamura

The curious case of Webtoons

With the digitalization of mangas, throught Renta and Lehzin, it has become easier (and more expensive) to access these stories. Korea makes and appearence with their webtoons. Through the lack of piracy protections and the majority of them being digital, manhwa (korean webtoons) sees a rise in popularity. Through the digital medium the influencee can be the influencer.

However, like many other East Asian countries they have consumed BL, without hearing about the conversations about BL. So they end up mantaining the older themes and stereotypes that newer BL is trying to leave behind. Therefore, we end up with a mix of old and new, ie:

Killing Stalking 2016 Cherry Blossoms After Winter 2017 Painter of The Night 2019

Additionally, it is also thanks to the easy access to internet that Omegaverse, with its higher dramatic stakes (that parallel hetero dynamics), enters the mangasphere in 2016. It has grown in popularity ever since.

With the Thai BL Boom of 2020, Japan rediscovers its own BL market and starts investing in it more. Which is why we get live action adaptations of BL manga that was popular years ago (Candy Color Paradox was a manga from 2010), the more recent ones (The End of the World With You) or new anime adaptations (Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai in 2020).

more on this in my japanese live action BL post

What has it become now? is it BL? ML? or Seinen? Or is it all just gay manga?

It is clear that Shoujo manga (with BL, Josei and Seinen) is exploring queer themes such as gender and sexuality more and more. Japan is interested in this conversation, not only in manga (Genderless fashion). Which brings up the current question in BL studies: Does it make sense to keep these categories?

As a response to BL, ML (Male Love), which is made by gay men for gay men, started happening (around the 70s too). And Bara (gay manga porn) in response to Yaoi. However both gay men and women read BL and ML. We also see other themes being explored through BL, such as friendship (in BL Metamorphose), food (in Kinou Nani Tabeta), male relationships of all kinds (in Strange), and different queer views on life and its challenges (in Shimanami Tasogare). More and more what is LGBT and what is BL is merging, the line is blurred.

Conclusion

BL has been in my life for longer than it hasn't. It is through shoujo and BL that I have come to understand people and romance.

It is flawed, like everything else this life, but it's flourishing in many ways.

The genre feels old and new at the same time.

We can still find shounen ai/tanbi elements in more modern manga (All About J). Or the gay for you in a new light (Itoshi no Nekkoke). Or more educational manga on queer issues (My Brother’s Husband by Gengoroh Tagame). BL has around 50 years of existence but it is also being born anew in Thailand and Korea.

BL manga will continue to evolve in acordance to Japanese tastes, as it is still a local market. Hopefully the korean webtoons that get popular will be the more daring ones in their themes. Who knows where it will go from here? The only thing we know for sure is that it will continue to change. Isn't it exciting?

A post on the evolution of live action BL in Japan is coming, to complement this post. As well as a more detailed explanation of the Yaoi Debates and gay manga.

#history of bl #bl post series #I feel like I left too much stuff out #I hope it makes sense #honestly I would really recommend reading some of those manga #they're super interesting #soon it'll be 20 years since I started reading BL #my gosh #if theres anything anyone wants to know more about #I'd love to write more :)#yaoi manga #bl manga

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abs-2020 · 1 year

Text

=Monster=

Pt. 4

(Avatar)Colonel Miles Quaritch x Na’vi Reader

UH, This has multiple parts. So buckle up.

Warnings: SMUT/18+/violence/choking/pinning/overstimulation/heavy topics/Dirty talk/Virginity Loss/knife play maybe/size kink/FUTURE SMUT/Stockholm Syndrome/fingering/pet names/manhandling/manipulation/spanking/etc.. it’s nasty up in this piece.

P.S. uuuh stuff spoken in Na’vi is Italic and stuff readers thinking is blue

Summary: This takes place in ATWOW Aaand you’re neytiris older sister, and you get captured in order to save jakes children and spider. <3

Authors note: this chapter most likely has smut so like if you ain’t into that then scurry away. <3

P.s. Oh yes this is nasty nasty.

———————————————————————

Your ears would fall back as you felt a powerful emotion radiate from Miles as he stood up from beside you. ‘Jealously’ was your first thought. Miles stood there for a moment looking off into the distance. And you wondered what he was thinking, that was until you noticed the sun had gone down, leaving you with Miles, alone, in the forest, in the dark. In the dark. And something about the jealously that was oozing from his body like a bad smell had your stomach and toes turning.

“Hey princess, let’s play a game.”

Miles tone was one you hadn’t heard him tune before. Almost zombie or robot like. It didn’t sound like him. Something sinister was hidden beneath. Your ears would perk at his words and tone as you looked up to the tall blue man, his vest and pants something you’d grown used to. ‘It looked good on him’ and his waist. ‘God his waist was so gas damned attractive.’ The thought had you biting your lip and tail whip as you stood your body visibly stiff and you on edge.

“It is eclipse.” You’d state in protest. As you began to fidget with your hands.

Miles would stare at you his expression plain and dead as he tilt his head. The expressionless face that stared at you had your heart rate picking up as your fingers twitched. After what felt like forever of getting stared at by a zombie Miles would finally show emotion and smirk and lick his canines very slowly. Very very slowly his tung swirling the sharp tooth. The sight had your thighs clenching.

“Perfect.” Miles would exaggerate the ‘purrr’ in ‘perfect’. As he raised his brows.

A nervous laugh would catch in your throat. But then something inside started to bubble.. A courage. A playful courage.

“What game?” You’d ask your ears falling back at the word game. ‘This isn’t going to be a game.’

“Hide and seek sweet cheeks.” Miles would coo his words in your language his eyes lighting up and pupils dilating the once yellow orbs now almost completely a black abyss. The sight had you taking a step back.

‘He’s gonna hunt me’ your tail would freeze then frantically wag at the thought.

“What are the rule-“

“One..two..three..four…” miles would interrupt you boldly as he gave you a look that said ‘go anywhere and I’ll find you’ that ghost of a grin that you’d come to hate and love so much plastered onto his face as his animalistic eyes stared into yours.

It took a few staggered steps back and an almost trip onto your arse but quickly you’d gain control of your feet and rush to get as far as possible from miles. ‘He doesn’t know the forest like I do’ you thought ‘I don’t even know what he’s counting to’ your feet quietly padded against the floor as your ran thought the bushes and three iridescence of the forest whooshing past your eyes. ‘He can’t maneuver around like I do.’ You told yourself. But something inside you deep down said ‘oh he could.’ But you were to confident to believe that thought. You were a better hunter than Netyiri, quieter, quicker, stronger, swifter, more agile and far less forgiving. A better warrior too. There was no way he was gonna catch you.

Swiftly you’d make your way onto and up a tree perching yourself onto the strong branches, it was dark, and the leaves would cover you. You would see him before he saw you. You were sure of it. ‘What was I so scared for?’ You asked yourself in a prideful tone.

“Ready of not here I come princess.” Your head would snap at the direction of Miles voice his words quiet and distant but loud and unwantingly close. that logic didn’t make sense to you. You’d shake your head trying to rid your ears of his words.

Then you were quiet. Your tail still and ears perked and listening. For anything. But there was nothing, the forest was quiet. Too quiet. It’s like it knew, like Ewya knew. Knew you were being hunted. You’d look down into the iridescence of the forest looking for the man you loved and craved. ‘Where was he’ those were the only words circuiting through your brain. Still you sat perched in the tree, listening. waiting.

“Come out, come out wheeereever yoooou are.” Miles would sing his tone sinister.

It was then you saw him taking playful steps, long and playful steps. Almost skipping down the forest. stopping under the branches you were perched on his ears perked and tail still. He was listening. Stupidly your sweaty hands would slip causing a small branch to crack and fall. Your eyes would widen as you gasped. quickly and quietly you’d make your way back to the thickness of the three to hide just incase he saw you through the leaves of where you had been perched. Your heart was racing. You eyes wide and breaths forcefully quiet as you brought a hand to cover your mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(Miles POV)~~~~~~~~~~

‘I could smell her, her slick, her arousal, her fear, her sweat. I could smell her. And lord if she smelt that good all I could think about is how she would taste.’ My body was going crazy, zings and shocks pulsing all over. How easily I could’ve scaled the tree and taken her right there. But I wanted to play with her. Play with her mind. Make her feel like pray. Make her feel weak. Make her feel dominated. I wanted to hunt her. A smirk would cross my face when a branch from right where she was perched fell next to my feet.

“Oh my, that’s odd. Very odd. Branches don’t really just fall from trees. Eh, it’s probably nothing.” I’d say in a teasing tone. I knew she was watching me. Listening. Slowly I’d lift my head to look to the branches. She wasn’t there anymore. But ‘she was close.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~(End of Miles POV)~~~~~~~~

You knew Miles was mocking you with his words and actions. And it annoyed you. With an annoyed noise your ears would flick back as you quietly climbed down the tree being extra careful to make no sounds. Your heart was still racing. Then the thought hit you.

“I can escape…” you’d mutter to yourself quietly. You voice was filled with hope and your eyes lighted up at the thought. the situation now becoming 10x more serious to you. ‘Run. Run and don’t look back’ Quickly you’d dart from the tree dodging your way around the plants, bushes and rocks and fungi. Everything was at steak now. Everything. ‘I can see Netyiri and Netayum!’

You’d never ran faster, ever. At least that’s what you thought. Suddenly there was loud footsteps from behind you. Fast and loud. Chasing after you. And they were coming fast. You’d stop and look to your right and left the footsteps getting louder and louder, closer and closer by the second. ‘Jump behind the rock.’ In a desperate attempt you’d roll and hurdle yourself behind a large rock quickly putting your back to it and raising your hand quickly, to cover your mouth. You breathing was frantic and loud. So you had to quiet it down some how.

“I can hear you sweet thing, why don’t you just come out?” Miles would coo “are yoooou over HERE!” Your body would freeze. But his head never popped from either side of the rock.

A small whine of would leave your throat. A whine of anxiety and panic. You felt like a small animal, being hunted by a big bad wolf. ‘Your big bad wolf’ you’d never felt like prey until you met Miles.

An animalistic growl would gurgle from miles throat his steps louder than before and his breathing more frantic. He sounded hungry. ‘He sounded hungry.’ The thought had you covering your stomach ad closing your legs.

“I can smell you.” Miles would snap as he jumped over the rock and quickly turned to face you. His eyes were crazy, and his pupils were blown out. His mouth was agape and his canines were shining under the moon light. “I gotcha.”

‘Run’ quickly you’d jump from the rock only making it a few hurried steps away before your shoulders were grabbed and you were thrown back against the rock a grunt would leave your throat, the cool and rough surface of the stone causing the breath to hitch in your throat. A warm arm snaking its way around your waist as a firm and solid body would press against yours pressing you back against the rock.

“Looks like I’ve won.” Miles Tone was sinister as he rubbed his cheek against yours as he whispered into your ear. A zing flowing through your body. Slowly he’d pull back to look into your yellow eyes.

“And?” You’d ask your body tingling with his strong warm arm around your waste.

“I want my reward, princess.” Miles would give you a grin as he puckered his lip his free hand going to your cheek. Lightly he’d rub his thumb against your soft blue flesh. Your cheeks were warm and flushed.

“What do you want?” You’d ask. It was a stupid question really. Deep down you already knew the answer to his question.

“You.” Miles would pull you closer to him his body easily dominating yours not only in size but power as well. your warmths mixing with his. “I want you (Y/N).” A zing would flow through your body as you stared into his eyes.

‘He wants me..’ you’d stare into Miles eyes him doing the same his hand still resting on your cheek. ‘I want you to..’ you didn’t have the courage to say those words out loud. Not yet. Miles ears would flick back as he leant his forehead against yours. His cup on your cheek getting more firm. He wanted you. You could tell. Your hand would go to cup the one he had on your cheek The closeness of him had the butterflies in your stomach soaring.

“And don’t say you don’t want me back.. because I can fucking smell you. I can smell you and it’s making me feral princess.”

A low growl would leave Miles throat his breath mixing with yours as your foreheads rested against each other’s. You’d bite your lip as you brought your one of your hands to miles face and the other to one of his biceps giving the muscle a light squeeze. ‘I love his strong arms.’ Your ears would fall back as You’d leant to kiss Miles only to pull back in defeat. Miles would chuckle and shake his head. Quickly he’d move his hand from your cheek and tangle his fingers in your hair. Hastily hed pull your face to his smashing his blue lips onto yours. This kiss was different from the first time. It screamed ‘I want you’ Miles was relentless his lips were relentless, full of passion and technique ‘he’s done this before’ the thought had your ears falling back. But that thought was quickly replaced by Miles spreading your legs with his knee pushing his firm quad against your core. The friction from his pants and the pressure on your bundle of nerves had your mouth fall agape as you stared into his eyes.

A deep chuckle would leave miles your reaction filling him with pride As his ears perked. Miles took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, quickly dominating yours. he was dominating every inch of your body. He was dominant. Everything he did had you feeling fuzzy. Again miles would grind his clothed quad against your clit this time a small moan would leave your throat as you threw your head back braking the kiss. A trail of spit from the two of you breaking as you pulled away. Miles would stare at you his eyes watching everything you did. He was like a hawk. An apex predator. Your hand would shoot to miles shoulders when you felt his breath on your neck your thighs clenching around the one between your leg. The slick from your core had begun to drip onto miles pants a feeling of guilt washing over your. ‘I’m so sensitive’ you thought ‘he’s gonna kill me.’

You’d bite your lip when you felt Miles hot and wet tongue like a stripe up your neck the action causing your whole body to break out in goosebumps.. ‘Jesus.’ The hand miles had in your hair would pull your head back aggressively leaving your neck more exposed. An animalistic growl would leave miles throat as he licked his canines and stared at your neck. Im a flash Miles would latch onto your soft and delicate blue flesh his teeth quickly sinking into your flesh easily breaking the skin. A silent scream would leave your throat as thick blood ran down your neck. Your blood. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh and your blood running down your neck had your thighs clenching and butterflies fluttering. Slowly miles would remove his teeth from your neck and lick the puncture wound he’d just created suckling the blood. His head would dip to your chest slowly licking up the blood that had oozed from the wound. A groan would leave his throat.

“Y- you just bit me..” your voice was small and horse as miles hands went to your waist. Your grip on his shoulder tight and harsh. You were gonna leave bruises for sure.

Miles would chuckle his breath still on your neck. Gently he’d give your neck a small peck before lifting his head do face you.

“Yeah, now everyone will know your mine princess.” Miles would look down on you a grin crossing his beautiful blue features. “I’ve marked you, I’ve marked you cause I want ever god damned creature on this planet to know your mine.” Miles grip on your hair would tighten the thought of you with another man obviously angering him.

Your eyes were glossy, skin hot and body sensitive and on edge. Your breaths were labored and fast. Miles would kiss your forehead and give your hips a tight squeeze. Another animalistic grin crossing his features would have your thighs clenching and toes curling. ‘What’s he thinking?’

“Ride my thigh, you’ve already soaked my pants. Might as well, make it worse since you’re such dirty girl. Can’t even keep her juices from dripping onto me.” Miles would shake his head in a scolding manner.

Your ears would fall back at his words. The degrading nature had your insides clenching around noting and you biting your lip once more. Miles would dig his thigh into your core with much more force a look of annoyance crossing his face as he puckered his lips. His grip on your hips getting tighter.

“Ride. My. Fucking. Thigh. I’ll be nice once, then I won’t.” Miles ears would fall back another sinister grin crossing his face.

‘I’ve never done this.’ Is all you wanted to scream and protest back. But his dominating nature had you submitting far to easily. Slowly you’d buck your hips back and fourth dragging your core and clit against miles quad painfully slow. Miles head would dip down to watch the show his eyes lighting up at the sight of you pleasuring yourself. The feeling was so foreign and pleasurable. It had you catching your lip between your teeth and pulling miles face towards yours.

“Kiss me, please.” You’d beg as you ground your hips faster chasing the knot starting to form in your stomach. ‘I’m to sensitive.’ Your ears had fallen back. And your tail had wrapped around Miles leg.

“Your wish is my command princess.” With that miles would latch his lips back onto yours.

The kiss was soft and hungry, teeth clashed and tongues danced Miles experienced tongue obviously dominating yours. Your hands would wrap around his neck as you chased your high. Soft whimpers would leave your throat each time your clit dragged against his combat pants. The friction sending you into an abyss of pleasure you hadn’t felt heifer. Your mouth would fall open as your breaths got more frantic. Your bucks would become unrhythmic and slow. Miles knew you were close, you were so sensitive and readable. Just like a virgin should be.

“That’s right ride my thigh princess. You’re doing such a good job” miles would coo in your ear as he placed his hands back on your hips.

You’d break the kiss and dig your head in between miles neck and shoulder as the coil in your stomach got tighter. You’d moan his name Just as your coil was about to snap and send you into an abyss of pleasure you’d only ever heard about in stories from your friends and sister. Quickly miles would take his knee from your crotch and chuckle. An annoyed sound would leave your throat as your hands clutched onto miles shoulders. Out of frustration you’d push Miles away and Hiss. ‘Asshole’ He’d barley budge as he grabbed your writs and pinned them to the rock above you.

“You really think I’d let you cum? No, no sweetheart. The first time you cum is gonna be on my cock.” Miles would spit in anger. His fierce eyes would search yours for a quick second. then they’d soften, they’d soften as he gave you a look that said ‘if you’re okay with that.’ And you’d nod.

With that miles would place his lips back onto yours only breaking the kiss to slip his vest and shirt off. Your hands would go to miles chest as you broke the kiss. placing your forehead onto miles chin as you looked at his upper body. ‘He’s so beautiful’

“You’re beautiful..” you’d say barley above a whisper as you stared at the man. Memorized by his body. ‘He had such a slim waist.’

your fingers would trace the lines of his abs and blue stripes of his pattern the coldness of your fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. Shivers getting sent down his spine. Slowly you’d trail you fingers down further and further trailing his V line until you hit the hem of his pants. The Tent in his pants was visible and it had your mouth watering. A small pur would fill the air as your hands trailed back up miles body a groan leaving his throat as he threw his head back in annoyance his lips Puckering. Harshly his hand would grip your hair yet again as he brought you up to kiss him. His teeth would pull at your bottom lip as he ground his hips against you another groan leaving him as his hands went to pinch your nipples.

“You’re gonna me me feral princess.” Miles would bark as he continued to kiss you slowly taking your body from the rock and lowering you to the floor.

Miles would pull you onto his lap the friction causing you to whimper and buck your hips against his.

“Oh fuck it.” Miles would say to himself as his strong arms flipped you onto your belly your hips in the air. His hands pushing your face into the dirt before he Harshly pulled your hair back with a growl as he leant over you his tongue licking a stripe up your ear the feeling causing them to fall back. Miles would growl. your scalp burning. “Isn’t this the position we were in when we first met princess?” Miles would ask his voice dark and full of lust. “Only the roles are reversed, and now I got the pretty little princess right where I want her.” Your eyes would light up as the memory flashed before your eyes.

“Yeah I got her where I want her.”

Miles hand would slap your ass the harshness and unexpectedness of the action causing you to jump. Your heart would race thinking about Miles words a pleasurable fear pooling between the heat of your thighs causing a slick to drip down the inside of the muscles. Another slap would have a hiss escape your throat. His hands were heavy and rough. 3 more painful slaps to your ass would have your nails digging into the floor and tears filling your eyes as miles pulled your hair back even harder careful not to harm your Queue. You’d bite your lip at 2 more slaps tears finally beginning to fall down the sides of your cheeks.

“Who do you belong to?” Miles voice would boom from above you. Another slap would echo through to forest. You stayed quiet as you grit your teeth. “Answer. Me.” Miles would give you a spank for each word he spoke.

“Yours, I’m yours.” You’d cry the pain and pleasure starting to become too much. “I’m yours.. I’m Miles.” You’d say again like a chant.

This had heat flowing to miles member his pants getting tighter and tighter by the second. Another growl would leave his throat as he pulled your back to him gripping your chin and turning your head in a harsh angle.

“Yeah that’s right, your Daddy’s girl. Your daddy’s girl alright. Your my princess and I’m. your. fucking. King.” Miles words would have the heat between your legs starting to become painful, as you clenched around nothing. “You’re fucking mine, NOT Tsu’tey’s”

“Please..” you’d bed as miles pushed you back to the floor. Miles ears would perk up at your words.

“Please what?” Miles would tease

“Please, tsaheylu…Make the bond- please.” You’d beg from below miles “I need you miles. I need you.” Your words were quiet.

Miles would stay quiet for a moment. Gently he’d grab your Queue along with his and bring the two tips together. You’d take a deep breath just as the bond was made. A moan would leave your throat, you could feel him, all of him, his emotions, his breath, his heartbeat, his passion, his excitement, his strength, all of it. All of it. Again you saw him. You loved him. Miles would place his hand on your back to steady himself his mouth agape and ears back as he closed his eyes the new and exotic feeling pleasuring him. A ‘fuck’ would leave his throat. He’d never felt anything like this before. But he was addicted. He was addicted because all he felt was you. All he wanted was you. Quickly miles would grab you and flip you onto your back. The only sound other then each others breath in sync was the clank of his belt on the floor and the rustling of him getting out of his pants in a hurry.

Miles strong hands would throw your legs over his shoulders the action bring you back to reality and opening your eyes. ‘He’s so tall’ you thought to yourself has he towered over you one of his hands would go to rest by your head on the floor the other would hold his blue member and lead it to your entrance. Slowly he’d drag his blue tip up and down your folds the feeling had your eyes rolling back as one of your hands shot to grab onto his bicep. Again miles eyes would meet yours asking for permission and you’d nod. The kind gesture had your heart folding. with a deep breath miles would slowly push his tip in. A burning pain shooting through your stomach your grip on his bicep Turing to iron. You hadn’t looked at his member before but god you should have because he felt huge. Bug. He felt too big. And as if miles red you mind he’d speak.

“Oh don’t worry princess I’m gonna make it fit. It’s gonna hurt tho, you are a sweet little virgin after all.” The thought had miles pushing himself in faster, rougher, and a little too deeper than he should’ve because he felt the pain, your pain. It shot from his queue to his whole body. And it had him shaking. You’d whine the grip on his bicep getting even tighter.

~~~~~~~~~(Miles POV)~~~~~~~~

‘You were so tight’, that was miles only thought. Until he opened his eyes and saw your face. Then it was ‘god she’s so fucking beautiful’ your brows were furrowed and your lips were pressed into a hard line. And miles felt pitty. He’d bring his hand to your cheek and caress the soft flesh. ‘She was so soft’ slowly miles would watch your eyes open and meet with his. And god he always saw stars when you looked at him like that.

“That’s it princess, you’re doin so good for daddy.” My words weren’t forced, they were so natural with her, but then my ears would perk up as she clenched around me at my words. ‘Oooh ho ho, my baby likes that.’ Was all I could think as I slowly inched into her a grin crossing my face as i stared into her beautiful eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~(End of Miles POV)~~~~~~~~~~

Miles words had you clenching around him as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. The bond made you feel his pleasure and god was it strong. Strong enough to cover up your pain. The pain of your velvety walls stretching more than they ever had. The pain of getting deflowered. His hand on your cheek comforted you as you looked into his eyes. ‘Beautiful eyes.’ Eyes full of passion, love and want. Still miles would inch into you slowly and painfully. It had you bringing a hand to your face to cover up the wince you made. Miles would tsk. He didn’t like that. With a tilt of his head he’d speak.

“Oh no princess, remove that hand. I want to see your pretty little face don’t be shy.” Miles would speak his teeth gritting at how much you were squeezing him.

After what felt like forever for the both of you he’d finally bottom out with a harsh thrust a groan leaving his throat. Miles would lift his hand from the ground to cup your other cheek as he waited for you to adjust. He’d lean down to rest his forehead onto yours while he waited giving your nose a soft peck.

“Go.”

Was all you had to say for miles to drag his member almost completely out of you only to go balls deep in one harsh and quick thrust. The feeling had the air getting knocked out or your lungs and your core clenching and gripping onto miles member as your ears fell back in pleasure. Over and over miles would do the same thing his tail whipping in the air as your ears fell back in ecstasy. Miles would growl and lift himself up placing a hand onto your chest to steady himself. His thrusts were relentless. And god he felt so good. The pleasure he was experiencing was doubled because of the bond. And it had his head would fall back as a groan left his throat.

“Fuck you feel so good princess. This feels so good. Ain’t ever felt anything like it. You’re doing so well, taking your daddy’s cock so well.” Miles words would take a moan from your throat as you grabbed the hand that was rested on your chest.

‘He was hitting so deep’ you thought to yourself, ‘so, so, so, deep.’ He felt so good inside you, like he fit you perfectly, like he was made for you. Like you were made for each other. You were made for each other. The pleasure you were feeling was addicting, not only casue it was yours but casue it was his too. ‘You’d bonded. You’re bonded. You were now his and he was now yours.’ The thought had you moaning miles name out loud and clench around him. Miles stared at you his pace never faltering and thrusts only getting stronger. Then miles hit that spot, that gummy pleasure crazy inducing spot inside of you. And it had you moan his name again. And he knew, he knew by the noise you made, face you made and the way you clenched around him. And he took this opportunity to heart.

“Is that the spot? Yeah? That’s the spot that’s gonna have you screaming my name huh princess?” Miles would coo as he slowed his pace his thrusts still as strong the long and slow drag of his cock against your G-spot had you seeing starts.

Your coil was tightening, and Miles could feel it by the way you spasmed around his cock keeping his slow pace. He’d look down to where the two of you met at the sight had him wanting to chase his own release. Your cream on his cock made him feral. Your blood on his cock made him fearl, knowing he was the man to claim you and mark you as his made him turn into a monster. And speed his thrusts.

“Yeah you’re fucking mine princess, you’re mine. And anytime another man looks at you he’s gonna know it, he’s gonna smell it, oh he’s gonna fucking smell it. And he’s gonna know I’m the one that fucking took your virginity, You’re ruined princess, no man will ever make you feel this fucking good. No man…” miles hand would go to your throat as he picked up a brutal pace and positioned in and out of you. His hand would go to rub your clit roughly the feeling causing your eyes to roll back and walls to clench and spasm . “..So I’m gonna ask you again, I’m gonna ask you one. More. time….” Miles hips would meet your at each word “… who owns you.?”

A moan would leave your throat as the coil inside you tightened and threatened to snap. You’d grab the wrist of the hand miles that was torturing your clit and moan his name.

“You do…you own me.” You’d cry out at the burning pleasure building up inside of you.

“Say it. Say my name while you cum.” Miles would demand as he rocked into your velvety walls.

And like a slave you’d yell his name the cord snapping inside of you causing white to cloud your visions and your body to go numb. Your orgasm hitting you like a wave and crashing down to bring you pure ecstasy. Your cunt would squeeze miles cock like a snake would it’s pray and spasm around him. Miles would fuck you through your high as he pulled your legs from his shoulder and placed them by his waist. Quickly you’d wrap your legs around him trapping him in. Keeping him close. Miles would fall down onto you and cup the side of your had with both hands as he pulled your face to his in a passionate kiss. Your high dying down as miles chased his own high animalistic growl and beautiful groans leaving his throat as his thrusts got sloppier and less rhythmic. A ‘fuck’ would leave miles throat as he quickly pulled out of you leaving you feeling empty as his cum shot onto your belly as he moaned your nam his release finally hitting. He sounds so beautiful.’ Both of you would moan. The feelings both of you were feeling through your Queue’s becoming too much.

Miles would grab you his queue and gently pull it from yours giving yours a light kiss before setting it into your hands. A whine would leave you and Miles lips at the loss of the bond. ‘I want to feel him.’ You’d cry internally from the loss as you pushed yourself up with your forearms a painful ache starting to form Between your legs along with the one on your rear end. A hiss of pain would leave your throat as you shifted your weight trying to find a less painful option. You eyes would meet miles and you’d smile.

“Oel ngati kameie.” Miles eyes would light up

“Oel ngati kameie princess..”

Agin Miles would smile to himself as he watched you before shifting his body around yours only to pull your back to his chest and pet your head in a comforting manner. A sigh of relief would leave the both of you, the safety and comfort you felt from each other going unmatched to anything either of you had experienced. ‘He’s my home.’ Your 4 fingered hands would go to find his 5 fingered ones resting on your belly. Once found you’d interlock your fingers with his and smile.

“You did so good for me princess.” Miles would say his voice warmer and softer than ever. The vibrations from his chest to your back would put you at ease as his hand pet your head and he planted soft kisses to your hair.

You’d smile at his words the ache between your legs giving you a strange feeling of comfort and pride. ‘He’s mine, the monster is mine…’ your grip on his fingers would tighten as your tail wrapped around his ankle. The post sex tiredness would slowly set in your breaths getting slower and slower, quieter and quieter as you began to doze off. But you had one last thing to say before you let your tiredness get the best of you.

“We’re mated for life.. I’m with you now miles.”

———————————————————————

As you woke up your hands would shoot up going to rub your tired eyes. As your hands left your eyes you’d expected to be met with the bright sun, only you weren’t. It was still dark out. The forest illuminated by the plants and iridescence of the ferns. Then a giant sigh next to your ear would catch you off gaurd and cause your head to jump around to see the body behind you. ‘Miles.. my miles.’ You’d smile at the sight of him. You’d never seen him sleep before. ‘He looked so cute.’ You thought to yourself as you brang your your hand to his cheek. ‘So much more peaceful than usual.’ Youd giggle at the thought. But then something snapped in the forest.

Quickly your head would snap around and your ears would fall back a hiss leaving your throat. Only to find You were met with a viperwolf. Your head would turn. ‘They’re never alone.’ You thought as you stared into the eyes of the small dog. Then Something inside you told you to follow the small dog, and the look in its eyes said the same thing. You’d look back to miles. He was sound asleep. He wasn’t going to be up for hours. ‘I’ll be back to wake him.’ You thought as you leant down to kiss his cheek. Then you’d look back to the wolf. Slowly and quietly you’d remove the strong blue arm from around your waist and set it onto the floor. You’d wince and grab your crotch the pain from getting defloured finally set in. You were sore. So very sore. And your arse that felt 10x worse. You’d take A deep and determined breath and look back at miles one last time. Then back you’d look to the viper wolf. ‘Ewya is calling’

“Lead the way.”

———————————————————————

After what had felt like a long couple miles you’d finally realize where the viper wolf was taking you.

“Mother tree? The tree of souls?” You’d ask as you looked back down at the small black creature. It would stop in its tracks look back at you and nod.

You’d keep quiet after that. ‘What does Ewya have to show me?’ Your heart would begin to race at the thought. Fear and panic crashing into you like a chooper crashing on the forest floor. Once you’d finally reached the tree your legs would shake. You’d look back down at the viper wolf.

“Thank you.”

With that the viper wolf would hiss and walk off leaving you to Mother tree. ‘Oh great mother what do you have for me..’ your heart would race with each step you took getting closer and closer to your beloved and sacred tree. It’s glow more beautiful and powerful than anything on pandora. ‘Not as beautiful as Miles eyes’ the trek had taken longer than you expected and the morning sun was starting to rise. Finally you had reached the grand tree you’d take a shaky breath and grab a couple of (vines?) closing your eyes as you grabbed your queue and brang the two together to make the bond.

Your ears would fall back. Screams, you heard scream and cries. You saw fire. Lots and lots of fire. There was gun shots and then there was the sound of an animal being shot. A screech of pain. Then the words ‘toruk makto’ and ‘where is he’ fallowed by cries. Cried of pain, loss and sadness. But it wasn’t just any voice. It was miles voice. Images of him and crying children would blur past your eyes. Blood. Water. And pain, you feel pain and fear. The pain and fear of the ones miles had hurt. Then the vision would end and you’d pull back hastily breaking the bond almost tripping as you took frantic steps backwards. Your hand would go to cover your mouth as a pained noise left your throat as you pieces the puzzle together. ‘He was looking for Jake… and hurting people in his way.’ Your ears would fall back as you fell to your knees and hugged your stomach. ‘He didn’t… he couldn’t..’

“I thought this madness was over great mother!” You’d cry out as tears poured down your cheek. “I thought I’d tamed the beast.” ‘That was such a stupid thought’ you’d continue to cry your fist pounding into the floor.

A screech would be heard from above you, it was Pepe’s screech. The wind from his mighty wings would blow onto your back as he landed next to you. Another small screech would leave your purple ikrans throat as he lowered his head and nudged it against your back in a comforting manner. Another pained noise would leave your throat as you grabbed onto your stomach for comfort.

“(Y/N) (Y/N) WHERE ARE YOU??” An unwanted and familiar voice that you loved would call from a close distance.

Miles voice would have your head shooting up to see the tall blue alien, ‘my mate.’ Running towards you. Quickly you’d stand and throw your hand in the said in a ‘stop’ position tears still falling down your cheeks.

“STOP, do not come any closer!” You’d yell your teeth baring as tears covered your cheeks. “Ewya has show me..” a sob would break your sentence in half as you brought a free hand to cover your mouth.

Miles would halt and put his hands up in a defensive manner.

“N-now just wait a minute princess, I’m confused her-“

You’d hush miles by signing for him to shut up with your hands.

“No, NO! I TRUSTED you! I trusted YOU!” your voice would crack as you brought your queue’s to Pepe’s a hiss leaving his throat at the bond. And and feeling of your pain and sadness “I trusted you..” another pained sound would leave your throat as you jumped onto Pepe’s back.

Your action had miles darting towards you. A look of panic crossing his face his eyes going glossy. His skin immediately turning pale as his ears fell back. He’d reach for you as he ran towards you and pepe. You’d lift your hand causing pepe to lift himself off the floor.

“(Y/N) WAIT! Don’t go! Don’t go! Please don’t go!” Miles would scream as sprinted towards you. His voice strained, he sounded confused, heartbroken and if he was about to cry. Miles would trip and slide against the floor a hiss leaving his throat. His head quickly shooting up to meet your eyes. Both of your eyes filled with sadness and pain. And fear. The fear of losing each other.

Tears would fill your eyes again. You did not what to say the words you were about to say. But you had to. You had to. Because if he did love you, they’d change him. They had to. With another pained sob you’d grab you chest as if your heart had just been stabbed.

“You.. are a monster Miles Quaritch.”

————————————————————-///

Authors note: *gasp* oh my gosh. 😱

P.s. as always comments are appreciated <3 this chapter made me cry. ALSO! IF YOU ASKED TO BE TAGGED BUT DIDN’T GET TAGGED ITS CAUSE THE TAG DIDN’T WORK!

Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

@kimqueenofhell @strawberrytodes @esposadomd @kitty-cat-luver @spookyspecterino @vane28282 @fayenijimura @gayfagdownthestreet @anbanananna @pinkpotatoqueen @witxhy-lexx @perseny @seashelldom @blueberry-thrawn @kadu-5607 @4shbug

#atwow #atwow spoilers #avatar #avatar smut #avatar way of water #my fic #atwow x reader #avatar miles x reader smut #avatar x reader #colonel quaritch #blue people avatar #colonel miles rick quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #x reader smut #jake sully #smut #smutttt

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cvlutos · 1 year

Text

“No Nut November” Pt.1

| Repost: 01.10.23 | 1.3K | Mature |

NRC 1st Years X GN!Reader

♡ ACE TRAPPOLA ♡

LOSER #ONE

Swore he wouldn’t fail. Would not shut the fuck up. Would constantly brag about how well he did. When it’s only been a day. He’s the most likely to fail on the 1st day. Not even most likely, he does. That’s mad embarrassing but will most definitely lie for the entire month.

He 100% blames you. You just happened to wear a hot-ass outfit [very very casual relaxation clothes] when he came to Ramshackle after school, he swears you did it on purpose. When he returns to Heartslabyul, exhausted from studying but trying to hide his hard-on, he makes a beeline for the bathroom. Nearly ripping his belt off, biting his bottom lip as his hands make contact with his dick.

“This is all your fault—”

♡ DEUCE SPADE ♡

LOSER #TWO

Definitely was aware of No Nut November, but didn’t really get the hype, nor were girls really attracted to him during his delinquent days. [He’s lying. Deuce had girls flocking to him in droves. He’s just oblivious] Deuce doesn’t really view himself as a sexual person until he met you. Unlike Ace, he’s taking it seriously. He’s gonna prove he has self-restraint and is better than Ace. Fails on the 2nd day, partly because he forgot, but also because you smiled at him. He won’t lie, but at the same time will dance around the topic for the rest of November. It’s pretty obvious to everyone he failed.

He swears he isn’t some sexual deviant. You’re just so kind and sweet, and a wonderful person. He can’t help himself. The thought doesn’t cross his mind’ til he’s already close. Laying on his side, his face shoves further into the fabric of your shirt. He lets out a choked groan, desperately fucking his fist. He’s already so close, might as well finish. You won’t ever know.

“... I’m sorry, [Name]...”

♡JACK HOWL ♡

LOSER #THREE

Let’s be honest. Jack knows and finds it annoying, like what’s the purpose? Will definitely participate when Ace makes fun of him for not being able to last. He’s competitive. Will act all high and mighty and honestly does well. I give him 15 days at most before he breaks. He most likely forgot the first 10 days, but then started to notice you a lot more, like the way your eyes seem to sparkle, and your laugh is something he can’t ignore. The next 5, he’s forcing himself through and is becoming mad grumpy, cause well.

Says fuck it the moment he sees your skin that’s usually covered. [You showed him a portion of your stomach or bare legs, he’s going feral] Before you can say a thing, Jack is already gone, deciding that he’d be unable to walk into his dorm without drawing attention to himself, he’s deep in the forest. Leaning against a tree, imagining his hand is you. At Least he doesn’t have to clean up much. He’s slightly guilty for the next few days, but won’t tell you, but you will see an influx of gifts.

“This is so embarrassing…”

♡ EPEL FELMIER ♡

LOSER #FOUR

Almost as loud as Ace, with his bragging. Especially with just your friend's group, no Vil or Rook in sight. He’s letting his country accent fly, with not a damn care. It’s a little funny and cute. Don’t say that to his face. I’m gonna make an educated guess and say he definitely needs to bust it at least once a day. He gets even worse after meeting you, often disappearing into the bathroom, but who needs it for 20 minutes on average? I don’t know what’s worse, Ace bragging and losing the 1st day. Or Epel hyping himself up, only for you to mention how hot he is.

He’s already leaking. He sits on the toilet seat of your bathroom, rubbing his nose against your damp shower towel, squeezing his eyes shut, pumping his dick desperately. You name tumbles from his lips, muffled and desperate. He compares succeeding NNN to being a stronger man, and most definitely falls the 1st hour of making his bet. Will ask Jack hypotheticals, and he’s just like, ‘I don’t know, man’. Similar to Deuce, he will jump around the topic, or suddenly switch up. Saying NNN is dumb. Like bffr.

“No Nut November iz dumb! No, I didn’ fail, ya jerk”

♡ SEBEK ZIGVOLT ♡

ONLY WINNER

Now, I know what you are thinking. Ain’t no way. Sebek is loud and most likely has announced his displeasures with NNN. It’s childish. Uncouth. For the dumb and ignorant. Wait—you think it’s funny and cool? He guesses he can try, and will publicly and I mean publicly announce his plans to win. And he will. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his challenges. Sebek is a knight in training and has amazing self-control. And last half the month without trouble, the other half, he’s just missing. You see him in all his classes, but he’s avoiding you like the plagues.

He is giving his all to winning. The moment December 1st strikes, he’s acting a damn fool. Fucking his hand, bed, blankets, anything and everything, cause cumming once just isn’t enough. He’s gonna casually NOT, will do a fucking public service announcement about his winnings. Gods, he’s embarrassing. Will not shut up. Please say you’re proud of him.

“Of course I won. As Lord Malleus Knight—”

#t.manor.erotic.stories #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola smut #deuce spade smut #jack howl smut #epel felmier smut #sebek zigvolt smut

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

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Portgas D. Ace NSFW Alphabet

@444katsuki threatened me at 8am to do this. 🧍🏾‍♀️🤧

Black Fem Reader in Mind

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If he doesn’t fall asleep right after he usually gets up and grabs a towel to wipe you off, he didn’t know much about aftercare and he told you about this, but he was more than willing to learn because he always had the instinct to make you feel good and safe. He enjoys pillow talking as well right after, holding you on top of his chest, starting off with a silly comment saying “Fuck you feel too good down there.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms and he loves your ass. When he carries you & you can always feel his bicep or hand right under the cup of your butt

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Feral messy man. He loves cumming on your body though. It’s a form of possession he feels pouring his seed all over you as you pant away and eye half shut. You have to catch him sometimes though because if he cream pie’s you he starts to playing inside you cunt with his Dick.

Dirty ass.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to fuck you in a forest. He doesn’t know why, but sometimes when you both are exploring he just wants you push you against a tree and have at you. Maybe you will grant him that pleasure one day

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has had no less than 3 women. Two was just blowjobs and the one was a heat of the moment thing. He regrets losing his virginity to anybody that wasn’t you, because you really showed him the ropes on how to make you feel good. He does have his hiccups when he is too excited so he may miss your clit or rub too hard but a lil correction never hurt him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lotus. He is infactuated by you, your scent, your moans, your body he needs to be as close as you as possible. He will keep your sweaty thighs around his hot waist and slowly pump into you and giving you soft praises in your ear, “You’re so good to me, I love you, baby.”

Once it gets a bit more intense he lays back holding your hands to watch you ride him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It can be either or, he’s a silly guy and he enjoys watching you smile as much as he does seeing your fucked out face. Sometimes he’ll intentionally make a joke while going down on you because he gets so turned on when you laugh, but it gets cut off by a moan. It just so sexy to Ace.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sooooo. He is kinda like Luffy, but slightly better. His DF burns off any excess hair on his body so he doesn’t have much going on, but sometimes you can just barely feel a little bit of hair when he presses deeper inside you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic whether he admits it or not, he’s just not great at executing it. He tried to light candles around the bed or give you a massage but he’s clumsy so there were a few times there have been many accidental fires in your room because of this

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Does it a lot before and after dating you, especially if you are not sexually available. He gets riled up so easily he blames you a lot for it. You’ve caught him in your room with your dirty panties in his face way too many times.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Temperature Play: I mean obviously. When he fingers you he will make his fingers hot JUST enough to make you whimper. Sometimes if he is feeling it, he will rub ice on and inside your pussy, he sucks his bottom lip seeing you squirm at the cold touch and wait until you beg for him fingers for him to rub your clit with his burning digits.

Sensory Deprivation: He actually wants you BOTH to be blind while having sex. The feeling is such an overwhelming pleasure he can’t get himself to beg for more while you cry for him to stop while he is inside you blindly.

Exhibition: Like i said he doesn’t actually want to get caught but the THOUGHT and RISK makes him feral. He can most definitely fill you in an alley or even in someone else’s room that he doesn’t like. He doesn’t give af.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t necessarily care as long as there is reassurance y’all can’t get caught. Going back to the idea of fucking you in the forest.

He really likes fucking you in areas where enemies are close by. It’s something about the rush of possibly getting caught and attacked that makes him get feral. Granted he would also be mortified if someone actually saw like a random civilian so he is a dumbass on that part.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU. You just swaying your hips ALONE Makes him flustered! He gets more horny when he drinks so if you wanna tease him sit on his lap. (Will Describe more on the Letter U)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Ace is a very jealous guy so he Does not ever want to share you. He has no reason to. You are his and he most definitely is yours, just the thought of you being intimate with someone else’s, man or woman he doesn’t care it pisses him off.

He is open to slapping you, but not in the face. He wouldn’t dream of ever bruising up your gorgeous face.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man LIVES for blowjobs. The mouth stretching to swallow his cock is a sight to see. He loves leaning back on the bed, one hand holding him up, other on your head holding your hair watching you bob your head up and down. It’s kinda hot seeing how his head is cocked to the side, blushing and lowly moaning your name. when you wake up him with one he is the happiest mf in the sea nothing can piss him off. Bonus points if you start off and kiss his tip he will get hard almost instantly

When he goes down on you he’s a damn menace, he always becomes pussy drunk so be prepared to be overstimulated. His favorite way to eat you is him on his knees and you against the wall. It’s so hot to see his dark eyes just barely showing through his messy hair looking up and you kneeding your ass. One time you moved his hair out of his face to get a good look at him and while he was sucking your clit he winked and pushed your pelvis in more making you cry out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Surprisingly, he loves making love more than rough sex. Now that doesn’t mean if you act bratty he won’t put that ass in place, but he

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The only quickies y’all have are oral sex or quick bend over this barrel sex. It’s not often but Ace don’t mind em.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There was a couple times you’ve done it in the hallway of a Mobydick during a party and you both were horny drunk messes that couldn’t wait to get to your room so Ace took you from the back on a wall. Thatch caught you both, but y’all couldn’t see him from how dark it was. He didn’t talk to you both for a week and you both didn’t understand why.

Ace doesn’t think about trying new things. If you tell him about it he’s open minded, as long as it isn’t something he can’t do back to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has fallen asleep inside you. Many times. So after waking him up he is recharged to finish what he started. Sex with Ace usually last about….15-20 minutes and that’s because his ass can knock out at anytime.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No. He always talks about getting one but never gets around to do it and you seem to always forget so if y’all want to use one you can, but it wouldn’t make much difference between how you both have sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Okay so you both like to tease each other. You can tease him by sitting on his lap while he drinks and with nobody watching you will grab his hand and guide it making him feel that you in fact are wearing no panties. You witty smile starts to fade when he raises the temperature on his finger tip as they do teasingly draw circles inside you, he smirks while sipping his drink knowing the more you buck your hips in his hand the further away his hand moves. Eventually you or him have a competition on who can break first and you both always end up losing, but it’s worth it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

SUCH PRETTY PRETTY MOANS. Probably the top three prettiest male moaner in the entire OP verse and he ain’t 3. He gets so embarrassed knowing his noises turn you on, but he doesn’t stop because the way you clench down on him when he spills his soft whimpers makes him more riled up.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He can draw really well. Ace calls them doodles but he is super good at realism. He mostly draws you and gives you the drawing very casually at the end of the day. It doesn’t mean anything to him. That was until he found your drawer full of his mini drawings through out the years. Damn near fell in love with you all over again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About 5-6 and a half all around. It looks way fucking bigger through because he is girthy and hard. It curves slightly and it’s very pretty and even has a few tiny beauty marks on it. He can be a cocky ass hole when he sees you struggle to take him inside you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Once he got with you his libido just sky rocketed more than it was before I’m sorry. He can’t get enough of your whimpers and your body. He will contact his self the best of his ability if you are not a very sexual person, but if you’re down I take it you guys may have sex about 3-4 times a week quickies not included.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he doesn’t pull you into his chest afterwards he wants you to hold him. He loves falling sleep right after sex in your chest, but if you’re just too hot best believe after a nice good cleaning he is knocked like a light

#one piece #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #ace scenario #ace x y/n #portgas ace smut #ace smut #ace headcanons #ace imagine #ace x female reader #ace x Black reader #ace x reader #one piece x black!reader

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 1 year

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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

𝔹𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪!𝔸𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕩 ℕ𝕒’𝕧𝕚!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Summary: After hearing about an incident with the Sullys, Y/N travels to the metkayina clan with Norm to help out. While she would’ve loved to enjoy the trip, it would seem a certain someone was there to make her life absolutely miserable. (Part two here)

The chopper buzzed in her ears as the cool breeze cut against her skin. Her hands fiddled with the small keychain she’d taken from Norm, her adoptive father of sorts. After the fall of the great tree and the loss of her parents, Norm took her in along with several others. She’d always had a strong connection with him, viewing him as her father figure. With her parents passing when she was only a baby, she didn’t have any real memories of them. Only stories that others told, praising them of their great feats and contagious personalities. Y/N always enjoyed hearing about those stories, to hear about how her parents impacted other peoples lives. All except for hers.

An exasperated sigh left her lips as she allowed her head to rest against the back of her seat. Across from her sat Norm, a small smile on the face of his avatar form. “Hey, what’s up?” He leaned forward, placing a hand lightly onto her knee. She could only smile in response, shaking her head at his question. “It is nothing. Just thinking.” She chimed as she slipped the red keychain into the pocket of her jean shorts. Y/N knew it was odd for her to wear manmade clothing rather than the traditional omaticayan attire. It was just what she felt comfortable in, and what she saw around her as a child. Her eyes flickered over to Norm’s once more, her smile fading away just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Kiri, do you think she’s okay? Jake sounded worried when he called for us.”

Norm gave her knee a squeeze before his hand retreated back to his lap. “I’m not sure what to think, but I’m hoping everything will be okay.” He replied, his gaze softening at her concern. “Hey-“ Norm leaned to the side, peeking his head outside of the chopper. “We’re here. Cmon grab your things kid, we need to be quick.” He said as the chopper began to descend. As it did she peeked over the edge just as Norm had done. She was in absolute awe. Y/N had never truly visited the sea. In fact, she’d never left the forest. The only reason she even tagged along was because she had missed the Sullys, but now that she took in the beauty of the metkayina clan, she was awestruck. The pale sands, the crystal like waters, and the beautiful metkayina people entranced her. She hurriedly went to grab her supplies as norm had asked. Tossing her bag over her shoulder she awaited the ships landing. As soon as the chopper met the ground, she hopped out, her feet meeting the warm sand. The minuscule grains crunched beneath her feet and sunk between her toes, managing to draw an airy chuckle from her. “Cool.” She murmured to herself before Max shouted her name, urging her over. “I need you to wait for us here okay. We’ve got this, so just chill for me.” Y/Ns expression contorted into one of disbelief, her jaw slack as a brow quirked. “What? That’s so unfair Max. I came all this way to help and now I have to sit like a kid and wait? Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, her tongue clicking as she stared down at him.

“Y/N I’m being serious, just wait here and watch the ship. Now I’ve got to go help. Stay, here.” He gave her a stern look as if he was warning her not to disobey. “Yeah yeah..” She sighed, her arms folding over her chest as she leaned against the air ship. She could feel the eyes of the metkayina people on her, watching her and the ship closely. To say that it was awkward would be an understatement. The longer she stood there, the more she desired to escape their judging stares. That, and she wanted to explore the beautiful island. Y/N thought about it for a moment, going over different scenarios of how Max would lecture her if she left the ship. He’d probably say what he usually did. “You can’t just do that Y/N— No Y/N go to your room— blah blah blah.” She almost laughed at the thought. Except she remembered his words. He said that she had to watch the ship, and she could easily watch the ship from another part of the island couldn’t she? She pushed herself off of the ships side, the warm metal no longer against her back.

“Alright Max, I’ll watch the ship.” She chuckled to herself before departing from the coastal side. As she wandered deeper into the island, she observed even more. The exotic flora, the beautiful fauna, and the metkayina people. To her, they were just as mesmerizing as the rest of their home, yet their stares of distaste and confusion began to make her think. Y/N knew she was different from others, she was used to the stares of her own people. Even they believed what she wore and how she acted was odd. Yet the metkayina people looked completely different around her. Their skin was lighter, allowing them to blend in with the crystalline waters. Their ears were smaller, and they also wore traditional clothing. Y/N was the odd one out, again. Her confidence fell, along with her gaze. The sand suddenly seemed much more interesting than the harsh stares from the people around her.

Y/N wasn’t paying any mind to her surroundings, that much was apparent. Her gaze was locked on the sand padding beneath her steps, and less on the approaching group. Thud, she stumbled back, a gasp leaving her as she steadied herself. “Sorry..” She muttered as she peeked up through her lashes, her gaze falling on the man in front of her. His eyes narrowed, watching her intently as he laughed maliciously. Y/N noticed the other laughs surrounding her, the sight of three other boys around her age pointing and gawking at her. “What’s wrong with the way she talks? Sounds so weird. And look at her tail, it’s so skinny.” One of the boys chimed in as they attempted to grab at her tail, before she swatted him away with her hand. “Stop it..” Her voice was quiet, unsure.

“Stop it.” Another boy mocked before laughing once again. “Are you another one of those forest freaks? I mean, I can tell. What are you wearing freak? You’re dressed like one of those demons.” The one she’d bumped into spoke, his eyes trailing along her body as he circled around her. His eyes wandered her unusual figure, her annoyingly dark blue skin, her big amber eyes. Just the mere sight of them boiled his blood, irked his entire being. Yet, she drew him in like a moth to a flame. Which is why Aonung found himself circling around her, a smirk slithering onto his face as he took in all of her features. Her thin striped tail and the way it whipped around as he teased at her. Her odd clothing and the way it hugged her body just right. What a freak. “Hey, you think she’s even a real forest freak? I mean look at her.” He pushed at her back as he walked behind her, though didn’t use much force. This irritated Y/N, causing her to hiss and slap his hand away. “Why are you being such a jerk? I don’t even know you and you’re trying to bother me.” Aonung didn’t bother responding. Instead he grabbed her wrist, pulling it up to show it off. “Ha look at her thin little forest arms. Probably can’t even swim can you freak.” His grip tightened as she attempted to pull away, yet he didn’t want to let go. No, he loved the pretty look on her face. The way her lashes fluttered as she attempted to blink the tears out of her eyes. The way her brows furrowed as his pestering got to her. The way her chest heaved as though she were about to try and throw a punch, or break down into tears. He would’ve been fine with both, really. All he truly wanted to see was that precious look of frustration on her face.

“Y/N?” A voice of concern chimed from behind them. Everyone turned, observing the way the approaching man flared his nostrils angrily. Neteyam, the (was) soon to be olo’eyktan. Y/N felt a sudden wave of relief wash over her, a sort of confidence returning to her as she yanked her wrist out of Aonungs grasp. Neteyam strides forward, standing between her and the group. His hand rested on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. “Are you alright?” He questioned as he studied her face, the gloss of her eyes, the twitch of her ears. A sigh aired from her nose as he turned to face Aonung. “Quit messing with my friend.” With each word his finger poked into the chest of Aonung, forcing him back a step or two each time. Y/N was used to Neteyams overprotectiveness. They grew up together, hunted fish together, took care of his siblings. He was like an older brother she could always call for help. With a delicate smile she placed her hand over his, assuring him that she was fine.

“Neteyam let’s go. I have to return to the airship before Max jerks a knot in my tail.” She joked as she tugged him along by his hand, inching him away from the group. All the whilst her eyes stole glances of her new acquaintance— or bully. Y/N wasn’t sure what to make of Aonung. He was a jerk, that was clear. As the two distanced themselves from the group of delinquents, they found themselves in a soothing silence. A silence that only those who’ve known each other for years could understand. Then Neteyam cut through it with his sharp tone. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. That Aonung guy has been a jerk to all of us, I even got into a fight with him a few days ago.” Her eyes widened at the statement.

“Did you win?” She asked, only to receive a chortle from him in response. He slapped a hand against her back jokingly, only shaking his head at her question. “Come on skxawng, you did say you wanted to visit Kiri.”

She slipped through the curtain of the large tent, stepping in cautiously with Neteyam trailing not too far behind. The room was dim, just as the look on her friend Kiri’s face. A small coo left Y/Ns lips as she knelt down to greet the young woman. “Oh Kiri, are you feeling okay?” She wrapped her arms around the smaller girls frame, cupping her head with her hand in order to hold her close. Kiri only sighed in response, her hand coming up to grasp at Y/Ns arm. “I understand if you don’t want to talk. I’m just glad you’re up, that’s all.” She took a seat next to Kiri, her arm circling around her in order to keep her close.

The two remained in the position, tangled together in a close hug and simply enjoying one another’s presence. Well, that was until Tuk rushed in with her usual toothy grin to drag the two out. “C’mon c’mon!” Kiri groaned, rolling her eyes as Tuk tugged her out of the tent home. Y/N followed close behind, a small smile on her face as she watched the two. Y/N always adored the way Tuk could make anyone smile. That and the way she balanced out Kiri’s sarcasm. They were perfect for each other.

Y/Ns curious eyes watched as the metkayina people dived into the waters eagerly. She wasn’t exactly sure why they were so excited until— her mouth fell open, awestruck by the sight of the large sea mammals in the distance. Their beautiful fins and colors. She suddenly understand why Tuk was so giddy to drag Kiri along with her. They clicked their tongues, a small fishy creature swimming towards them with a squeal.

“Woah! I’ve never seen anything like them. What is it?” She questioned as she knelt down behind them, watching as they both hopped onto the back of the aquatic creature. Tuk was the first to answer, giggling as she spoke. “They’re called Ilu! She’s so cute right?” Y/N nodded in response, a large smile on her face as she observed the ilus anatomy. It had pretty swirls of color across its small fins, and big black eyes. Beautiful, she thought as she watched the two swim away. “We’ll be back Y/N!-“ Kiri shouted from a distance as she waved back at the young woman. “Have fun you two!” She shouted back before standing back to her full height. All she could do was watch as the clan greeted their friends and swam through the sublime waters. Well, until Neteyam surfaced the water with his own ilu.

“What are you doing just standing there. Cmon.” He grinned as he waved for her to join him. Y/N obliged eagerly, slipping into the cool ocean and hopping onto the ilu. Her arms wrapped around Neteyams slim torso, keeping herself secure before he swam forward. Neteyam felt warm against her, his body heat contrasting the waters low temperature. She enjoyed moments like these with him, especially after the Sullys big move. She inhaled, his scent flooding her nose as she rested her head against the muscle of his back. He chuckled, the vibrations causing her to smile. “I’ll take it slow okay? I know you aren’t used to the water yet” He said as he drifted out into the sea, the ilu swimming along the surface of the water. The cool waves washed against her thighs, drenching her clothes as they neared the commotion. Perhaps commotion wasn’t the correct term. The reunion, yup that sounded right. A reunion between the metkayina and the incredible sea life.

“Teyam, what’re they called?” She inquired as one of the beautiful mammals passed by. Neteyam looked just as mesmerized as she did, perhaps even more. “Tulkun I think. Wow, they’re incredible.” He answered. The slowly the ilu came to a halt, allowing the two to observe the sight around them. The smiles on each of the peoples faces, the chirps and coos of the tulkuns. The mere sight made her heart warm. That and the feeling of Neteyams handing cupping over hers. “Let’s go under!” He exclaimed before disconnecting his queue and dragging Y/N beneath the blue water. The water flooded her ears, and while it was uncomfortable she found herself distracted by the tulkun passing overhead. It’s large shadow washed over her, the intricate designs and patterns on its belly causing her smile to grow. The sight was magical. Y/N tugged on Neteyams hand, their fingers still interlocked within the water. Drawing his attention, he beamed up at her as she pointed to the creature soaring over them. Moments like these would always last, burned into their memory for the time to come. Her best friend, Neteyam. She wouldn’t see him again for a long time once she returned home, but that was okay. She’d always remember.

They swam around a bit longer, pushing through the relaxed waters as they lingered around the floating tulkun. She swam across from Neteyam, doing her best to keep up with him. His swimming had certainly improved since the last time she saw him. He was a short ways ahead, but far enough to not notice her lagging behind. She slowed down, eventually stopping as her heart thumped in her ears. Her lungs stung uncomfortably as she came to realize she hadn’t come up for breath. With this new revelation, she began to swim to the surface with an intense urgency. Yet the water seemed as far away as before, as though she were traveling down a never ending hallway. Just as she was about to succumb to the waters commands, she felt someone tug at her arm, now dragging her up until finally they surfaced.

“Thank you..thank you so much.” She sputtered as her breathing calmed, now becoming slow and steady. Her vision cleared, no longer blurred from her suffocation. Her eyes found her rescuers, and instantly she darted from their arms. “You.” She mumbled nervously as her eyes fell anywhere but the face of the man who had been pestering her not long ago. “Me? You act as though I did not just save your life. I do expect something in return forest girl.” He bossed. Y/N didn’t respond, instead remaining silent as she eventually found his eyes. His eyes, Eywa they were burning, scorching her soul as they stared her down.

“Thank you then. That’s what I give in return.” While the words were intended to come out rude, her wavering words and shaking lips only egging him on. However, he controlled himself, instead opting to pull her closer and allowing her to float against him. “What is your name forest girl?” He asked as his arm wrapped around her waist to hoist her closer. Their bodies pressed against one another, their legs tangling together in the water. Her eyes searched his, hesitant to answer. She didn’t understand why he would save her after saying such cruel things about her. And she certainly didn’t understand why he held her so close. With a gulp, she finally answered. “Y/N..and you?” He grinned, that familiar sadistic look finding his face. “Aonung. You know, you’re cute for a freak forest girl.” He professed as his eyes observed her appearance. This insult hiding within a compliment confused Y/N, causing her mouth to fall agape as she searched for a response. Thankfully she didn’t have to come up with one, her friend Neteyam popping out of the water with a grimace. “Y/N, are you alright? I didn’t see you come up.” His brows furrowed with concern as he watched the two skeptically.

“Yes I just…needed some air.” She muttered as she pushed herself away from Aonung who only cleared his throat at the sudden awkwardness. She swam closer to Neteyam, taking his hand and tugging him away. She didn’t want to be in the situation any longer, so she used Neteyam as an escape. They swam away, creating a distance between them and the metkayina boy.

“Did he do something Y/N?” Neteyam questioned as he pulled her to a stop. Y/N couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead she frowned, finding herself uncomfortable with the topic. Neteyam could see this and brought his hand up to rest on her head. “You don’t have to tell me now, I just want to make sure you’re okay that’s all. Now let’s go, it’s getting late.” He gave a sympathetic smile before calling his ilu, and soon they were off.

She felt full after eating dinner with the Sullys, the taste of Neytiris cuisine lingering on her tongue. She had departed from the family tent a few moments ago, now strolling along the shore of the midnight beach. It was eclipse, the sun no longer out and one of the moons replacing it. The stars were bright and flickering, weaving together to create beautiful constellations. The stars were always her favorite. Something she could enjoy alone without any bothersome scientists or siblings. She found a good spot on a mossy rock, taking a seat on its cool surface with a sigh. Her hands rested on the rock as she leaned back, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

The day had been eventful to say the least. She’d been harassed by some stupid boys, got to see new animals and people, and almost drowned. She winced at the last thought, cringing at the idea of her drowning the day she visits the Sullys. That and the fact that she’d been bullied by those boys, one in particular. Aonung, the stupid bastard. She didn’t like him, not one bit. She didn’t like the pretty jewels he wore, or his soft curls. She didn’t like his smug smirk, or rough hands. She didn’t like it at all. His annoying voice, his soothing accent.

“This is my spot.” She jolted, a gasp leaving her as her hand slapped against her chest. “Oh my fuck— you can’t just- oh, it’s you.” Her arms pulled her legs against her chest, wrapping around her calves as she glared at the water. “Go somewhere else forest girl, this is my spot.” He approached, now taking up her space. He stood over her, his intense presence beginning to make her feel uneasy. “You can’t claim a rock Aonung.” She snapped back. For once she legitimately had something to say, and Aonung took notice of this. His hand found her jaw, tilting her head to force her to look at him. “So, you aren’t a complete mess forest freak.” He slouched over, his face in the proximity of hers. His breath fanned over her face, warming her skin and causing her cheeks to flush. She gulped, just as before she found herself struggling to find a response to his patronizing. “Cmon freak, speak up. Or maybe you can’t understand me because you’re not a true na’vi.”

She whimpered at his words, shaking her head from his jaw and shifting to slip off of the rock. Aonung however wasn’t finished. His hand pulled her back by her neck, his calloused fingers circling around her throat to keep her still. This caused her to whine, her hands grasping at his wrist as she glared up at him. “That look in your eyes is so cute forest girl. Aw, about to cry?” He taunted as she blinked tears back, her lashes fluttering to contain them. “Shut up..” Her whiny tone caused him to chuckle, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek as he watched her closely. Slowly his finger found her bottom lip, caressing it gently as he gazed into her eyes. And then suddenly she found his thumb intruding her mouth, pressing against her tongue as his gaze suddenly turned dark. “Suck.” He demanded, the words causing her brows to raise in surprise. Though the surprise wasn’t from his words, but in fact from her eagerness to oblige. She found herself sucking at his finger, her gaze never faltering from his as she witnessed him suck in a breath.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? So eager to satisfy. Or maybe you like when I treat you like the freak you are.” He gushed as his hand left her neck, now wandering her form. His hands squeezed and fondled at her curves, taking in her perfect body. It wasn’t like she was the first woman he’s had sexual relations with. She was just so damn fun to degrade. To tease her until she broke, until she was crying his name. He huffed out at the thought, his hand now resting on her ass. He hated the clothes she wore, sure they hugged her body just right, but they also kept him from what he wanted most. Grunting he pulled her against him, their bodies meshing together as his now growing length rutted against her. This drew a whimper from Y/N, causing her to halt her actions with her mouth. “I didn’t tell you that you could stop, did I? Can never put that mouth to good use can you?” He spit out as his thumb left her mouth, a string of spit connecting the two. “Well aren’t you so good for me. Hm? Fine, you want to take my spot? Then you’ll listen well.” He said as he shoved her against the rock she once sat on, and pushed her legs apart. His thigh rested against her cunt, the muscle pressing against her teasingly. This caused her to let out a shaky breath, her hands now grasping at both his biceps as he leaned over her. He stared down at her, watching as she jutted her hips into his thigh in desperation. “Fuck, you really are desperate aren’t you? Cmere forest girl.” His large hands found her hips, using them to rock her against his thigh. “I’m not going to stop until you’re moaning my name, got it forest girl? So get to work.”

And get to work she did. She rocked her hips at the perfect angle, her clit grinding against his thigh with each roll of her body. Her hands now rested on his back, scratching and grasping at his skin as she attempted to keep up with the pleasure she felt. Being a virgin, this was a new experience for her. Feeling his muscular thigh against her cunt, pressing against her in just the right way. His hot breath on her neck as he planted kisses and hickeys along the length of it. His grip on her hips grew tighter, more forceful as he himself grew more aroused. “Taking too long pretty girl, I need you to cum now.” He urged as he began to bounce his leg, further stimulating her senses. She mewled out, her core tightening as she grew closer to her high. “M’trying nung. It’s so good..so close.” She moaned at as her head fell back. Aonung used this to his advantage, his teeth now piercing her skin and sending that jolt of pleasure she needed to reach her high through her. Her legs tensed, her nails digging into his back as the throb of her clit caused her to moan out. “Aonung..!” She cried as her orgasm ripped through her. Her body felt hot against his, the friction causing her to pant unevenly. “Too good..too good.” She blubbered as she finally began to come down.

Aonung had witnessed her high, leaning back to take in the way her eyes squeezed shot. The way her nails dug into his back and urged him on. The way her thighs tensed around his own, the warmth of her cunt causing his cock to strain within his loincloth. Eywa, this woman had him losing his composure. His hands left her hips, now pushing her away as he groaned irritably. “Fuck, you’re so annoying.” He cursed out. This clearly was a shock to her considering he was the one who told her to cum on his thigh, not the other way around. She looked at him, baffled by his sudden switch in demeanor. “What— you were the one who sai—“

“I know what I said forest freak. Just— fuck. Can’t wait until you leave.” He seethed, his jaw clenching as if he were fighting himself. His eyes fell back onto her, searching hers before his lips suddenly found hers, biting and licking at her lips until they were swollen. And just as quickly as he pulled her into a heated make out session, he pulled away. “Don’t go bragging about this Y/N. It was an accident, that’s all.” He said before finally he left, disappearing into the island before she could get in another word. He just left her there, cold and drenched in her own juices. God she was gullible. She cursed under her breath as she gathered herself. She really, really hated Aonung.

#atwow #avatar smut #smut #Aonung #aonung x reader smut #aonung x reader #Aonung smut #slowburn?#avatar #Neteyam #Sullys

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hidtired · 13 days

Text

Count to 8

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

“There is no greater love then to give one’s life for friends.”

Description: The Prison was destroyed and your family lost. Leaving you alone and with less fingers then you started with. You were known to be a gentle being. You were sorely unaware of what you were capable of.

4.6k words

Warnings! (Angst, graphic injury/violence, cannibalism, walking dead shenanigans, mentions of dead children, death, etc.) [Happy ending]

The explosion that rattled the prison is what sent you flying down the halls trying to get outside. Before you even had the door outside open you heard gunshots start to ring out. You upholstered the pistol from your side before proceeding. The nervous tremble of your hands shook while you let off the safety.

The sight was heartbreaking. People scrambling, things on fire, and you saw the fence was down. The prison was falling. The people who were attacking had a tank. You watched the few near you trying to defend themselves before getting shot. You fired in the direction of the shots while trying to get cover. You needed to find your people… you needed to find Daryl. That's when you heard the unmistakable sound of the dead. The screams from the people who were originally shooting at you indicating there was a lot inside the court yard already. They were flowing past the gate and smoking tank.

“Y/N!!!”

That got your attention. Wipping around to lock eyes with Daryl, Beth standing next to him. They were cornered by one of the wired gates that had a hole behind them. The flow of walkers stopping you from getting over to them. You were out of what little ammo you had. Only leaving you with your knife. You would have to find another way to them.

“GO! I’LL FIND A WAY AROUN-“ A walker, behind you stumbled into you, knocking you to the ground with it. Now laying on your back you had reached around with your left hand keeping its face away from you. Your knife slipped from your fall landing someplace near you. You struggled against the walker, left hand keeping its jaw away while the right searched blindly for your weapon. That's when two of your fingers, pinkie and ring, slipped into the mouth. The walker biting down. The snapping of your fingers was akin to the biting of a carrot. Your fist reflexively tightened around the walkers face. You screamed bloody murder at the pain. Sobbing and panicking.

Daryl was only left with a view of your flinging legs behind where you had taken cover in the gun fight. Then, there was your blood curdling scream of pain. “NOOOOOO!” He was about to bolt over to you ignoring the dead growing around him, when Beth grabbed him from behind pulling all her weight backwards. “NOOOOO!”, he began to cry. Beth yelling over your screaming, “WE HAVE TO GO! DARYL WE HAVE TO GO!” He let Beth drag him away. Away from you.

You had heard Daryl’s yelling. You managed to flip and get on top of the walker. With your fingers still jammed in its mouth unable to release it. You began to grab the head from its mouth and slam it into the concrete. Screaming and thrashing until the body went still. That walker had been a person of the prison, one that had been shot and had later turned. Most other walkers around were coming attracted to you from your noise. While on your knees scrambling to find your knife, taking a moment after finding it to collect yourself before aligning it on the floor with the barely attached fingers of your left hand. You breathed in and crunched down at the base of the bitten fingers. Leaving your fingers on the ground while you stood. The corner of your vision turning black. You needed to get out of here. Clutching the bleeding hand to your chest against, you dodged the dead dizzily running out the gate the bus left through.

When you made it a ways into the forest away from the crumbling prison, you slide down the side of a tree. You pulled a lighter out from your pocket (the one you would often carry around for Daryl) and started to heat the side of your blade. Holding the knife with your knees until it got red hot. Flipping the lighter closed tossing it to the side. Grabbing the knife you started to hype yourself up to cauterize the wound. The sizzling sound and smell of burnt flesh left your already spinning state worse. Your attempt to contain the screaming was while lack luster still effective.

You sit there slumped against that tree. Rapping the wound with a sleeve from your red long-sleeve shirt. You begin to uncontrollable cry. You were in pain yes but you were thinking of everything you had just lost in a few moments. Everyone you had lost. You had only seen Daryl and Beth the whole time. ‘He is still out there, somewhere.’

You had taken a few moments to yourself at the tree before deciding you needed to find a place to collect yourself. Somewhere to sleep before you passed out. Hopeful for food, water, and medicine. You walked.

That night you did find a small hunters cabin. Just as it was getting a little too hard to see in the dark. Showing to be a moonless night. The place was clear of walkers. You found a Chef Boyardee can, a little bottle of water, and small first aid kit. You would look through the place harder in the morning. The first aid was seemed to be for only small injury’s. Containing Band-Aids and Neosporin. But it was the little individually wrapped, one serving size things that was a saving grace. Some Tylenol’s, a few hydrogen peroxide wipes, and real bandages. You ate the Boyardee can cold and drank half of the little bottle.

This is your first time alone since the apocalypse happened. First time you will have to take care of yourself without another person. In the beginning you struggled to kill the dead. Daryl was frustrated at you for being… well you. His sweet girl. He’s known you from his little town. You would volunteer at the animal shelter. Merle would mock him for liking you. Saying he was no better than the strays you would help. Not even into 3 months dating when all shit went to hell.

He tried to teach you. Knife, gun, hunting, hand to hand. Just to insure some peace and mind into him. “All sweet and nice things in this world get crushed and die.”

Days later

You found tracks with signs all leading to a place, Terminus. The god awful itch of your wound was becoming unbearable. The swelling had gone down leaving your hand many colors. You while not necessarily following the tracks were slowly make your way down them. Stopping to look around any building you found (hoping to see anything to indicate your family was in the area). You had founded some new clothes and some other supplies with your searching, you would stuff all of it into your new pack. You were also relearning how to use your left hand that was missing 2 of your fingers. You had joked to yourself that,

"Now I can only count to 8."

While on your walk down the tracks a crunching noise brought you out of your thoughts. Lifting your foot to reveal a candy rapper. 'It was Michonne's favorite candy,' you thought. Some people had come through here. You looked ahead to the tracks. You decided then you would pick up the pace. Hopeful that your people were there.

When it got dark you found some place in the woods to rest for now. Creating a small perimeter with wire and metal. You look at a map while struggling to rewrap your bandage one handed. Your guess was you would get to Terminus tomorrow evening walking without interruption. You had found a pill bottle prescribed to a Frank Darabont, a antibiotic. If you had learned anything from Herschel was getting a infection was not in the cards for you to survive.

With the sun beginning to rise you with the little sleep you had gotten, jumping at any noise in the darkness, started your walk down the remaining track.

Hours of walking made your legs and side ache. You slowed your pace when you got a whiff of something rotten. Low and behold there seemed to be a sizeable herd in front of you. You tended to just run away from the dead when you saw them. Not trusting to taking many on with your injury. They wondered on down the track like you. You would have to follow it the rest of the way to Terminus.

You were focused on the herd in front of you until you heard gun shots a distance away. Maybe they were fighting the dead? But they were still to far away for that. Something was wrong. The high whistle and boom of a firework startled you. Collecting yourself you then thought, 'so there not shooting at the dead.' You started to jog closer to the herd. You heard cursing from the woods to your left. You paused to see some of the herd had seen him and started to follow after him. The man acknowledged the dead before the sound of his walkie sounded off, "Well I call the kids hat."

You barely heard it from where you were. You were slowly making your way from tree to tree behind the man. One of many of Daryl's lessons helping you quietly stalk up behind the man. The man walked backwards watching the herd in front of him. The cold metal of your knife curling around to his throat. The man let out a small gasp before raising his hands. Using your left hand to slap the walkie out of his hand, causing a sting down your nerves into your arm, but you ignored it. You used a quiet cold tone to speak, "The kid with the hat, what did you do to him."

The man stuttered out, "W-we were just defending are selves." You pull the knife closer drawing a little blood, "Try that again. The truth this time asshole." Around 4 walkers were making a approach. The man's eyes flicking to each one, "We didn't h-have a choice. Y-you could join us! You get used to the taste of them." It took you a minute to comprehend what this man just said. Gasping at the realization the man also realizing he said to much and attempted to turn to fight you. But you had already moved the blade deeper into his neck. You pushed the man into the walkers giving him as there meal.

You had never killed someone before. In that moment you didn't feel a single thing about it either, that's what scared you. You slowly backed away from the body that was being snacked on by three of the walkers. The man had stopped squirming finally. The other walker had it sights on you. You lead it away from the others. You were going to need it for what you were about to do.

You gutted the walker and let it fill with blood. You took the black hoodie that you would us when it got dark. As well the thin blanket from your pack cutting a hole for your head. Dipping the fabric into the blood staining it red. You pulled up your hood before putting on the blanket. You couldn't be sure if "the kid in the hat" was Carl, but it could be. It was a kid none the less.

You had found a small iPod shuffle a while back. Not using it often because you thought you could us it as a distraction if you got caught in a pickle. You would slip ahead of the herd and lead them back to Terminus. Using them as a distraction to try and find anyone from the prison.

You were ahead of the herd leading them back to Terminus with the little iPod on as loud as it could go. "Time" by Pink Floyd playing. You could see the gate and saw people starting to acknowledge the dead approaching. You were going to try your best to walk like the dead around you.

A light flickered in the corner of your vision. You turned to see a sniper behind a chain fence. Their shot made you jump. They shot the gas tank, leaving it to release vaper. You turned in the direction of the shooter to see them struggling to light something. The person seemed to look around then back to what they were doing before they did a double take to your direction. Your mind clicked they were going to blow the tank. You stared back to the person for a second before throwing the iPod in front of you and running to your right to try and enter from the side. Gun shots were flying in the air. They were shooting the dead but turned to you seeing you run.

It didn't last long though because the tank exploded sending a wave of heat at your back while you ran. Temporarily stopping the gun fire, giving you the time you needed to get around the other corner of the fence. You found a lose part of the fence and slipped in. Running for in between the builds looking behind every corner before turning. You found a door that was slightly ajar. It was cold, and dark. But the light from outside showed you the horror's inside. Body parts hanging from lines. Human ribs on hooks. You back away from the room. You had to find whoever was here and get them out. You found another door to finding candles and things forming a circle. Like to be a memorial. You didn't recognize any of the belongings or names had you quickly made your way across the room to another door.

The door revealed tables and tables of stuff. You saw a weapons table and with you only having a knife decided to find something. But then you saw it. A crossbow. His crossbow. You shakingly pick it up. Some tears brimming in your eyes but don't fall. He could still be here. You turn your head and freeze. A table full of toys and stuffed animals, kids belongings.

You sat there and stared for a moment. You no longer had the tremble of fear in your hands, just stillness.

You were going to kill all of them.

Strapping the crossbow to your back. You pick a knife up from the table and duel wield with your existing one. You held the knife upside down with your left hand, it was easier to hold with your remaining 3 fingers. You swiftly paced out the door, you were going on a man hunt.

Outside walkers roamed. Remaining gun shots alerting you to were your targets were. As you got closer to the sound of a pistol, you waited around a corner. Careful to keep a eye on the walkers passing you. A man shooting backwards and women beside him tried running pass you. But you had tripped the running man sending him flying to the floor. The women turned to see were the man went before she was meet with on of your knifes digging under her chin. You quickly released it turning to the man. You stepped on the gun in his hand and lent down to send the left knife into his head.

You took the gun from the man and ran in the direction they were trying to go, leaving the body's for the walkers who tried surrounding you. You saw a door to a building close so you followed. You heard footsteps walking up stairs. You slowly and quietly made your way toward and up them. A door to a roof was slowly closing as you saw a group of men aiming toward something. Just as they started firing you started to empty the rest of the clip of the pistol you stole into them from the side. Most startled and tried to flee and went out another door opposite to you. You manage to kill and injury a few. You threw the pistol at them and reached for the other knife strapped to your side. Sprinting full speed at the now two remaining.

You fought the first one and nicked his stomach. You saw the man behind him aim his gun to you but you pushed his friend into the shot. His head exploded blood splattering down to your face. If you were just a foot taller you would have been the same. You shoved the dead man backwards into his friend. You swung your knife for his head but missed by a inch. So you plunged your right into his chest. He groaned stumbling back. "YOU STUPID BITC-" Your knife ended into his throat. "Shut up." You tried catching your breath. You turned to see what they were originally shooting at.

There was a group jumping over the fence. The last one of them just getting over. He turned looking to you. It looked like Rick... you gasped, 'They are alive... there right there!' You could make out Carl by his hat, Michonne standing next to him. You couldn't make out a few of them like the red hair- Your thought was interrupted by the sound of dragging behind you. Someone you had shot crawling to a gun on the floor. You ran over kicking it farther from him. He groaned and turn to look up at you. He opened his mouth but before a word could come out you were stomping threw his head with your boot.

You turned back to see the group heading into the woods. A man with a all to familiar winged vest leading them. You felt relief, he is there, he is ok. Your attention was back to the door the rest of the men you hadn't killed ran to. You looked around to the body's surrounded you. You walked over to the door stepping over there bodies.

Your slaughter was not over with yet.

Group POV

Walkers were approaching while everyone was trying to climb the fence. From a roof gun shots were rain down at there feet before abruptly stopping. Rick turned to see a hooded figured fighting and killing two of the men. He turned to climb over the fence himself. Turning back to see the figure staring at them before whipping around at something behind them and running at it. It was Daryl that first spoke up.

"Looks like someone is killin' those assholes. We gotta go man." Rick only nodded as he walked with everyone to the woods. They needed to go find the bag they buried.

Daryl was tracking their old prints to it. The conversation that followed the recover of there thing was Rick saying that these people couldn't live. The conversation was interrupted by a twig snapping in the woods. Carol appeared around a tree. Daryl ran to hug her. After your death Daryl just needed someone other then Rick to talk to about you (and Beth when they got drunk).

Carol was also expecting you to come flying at her for a hug. Her two favorite people. Rick approached "Was that you?" He pointed backwards. He appeared about ready to cry. Carol shock her head, "Not fully, there was another person, I simply opened the door. I tried to follow them but lost them." Rick embraced her. "Thank you." He pulled back from her, "Was this person wearing a black hood?" Carols eyes widened and she nodded. "I also found these for you." She pulled out Rick's gun and watch.

Carol took a second to look around at everyone there. When she didn't see you among them she turned to Daryl with a questioning look. 'Where is she?' the look Daryl's face turned understanding the unspoken question. That and Ricks looking down knowing the question to. Carol brought a hand to her face, "How?" Daryl stared off into the distance like he was seeing it again before swallowing the lump in his throat and talking, "It- happened at the prison, a walker." This was news to Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. They all knew who he was talking about. Maggie turned into Glenn's side. While they had found each other Daryl had seen you die. They were lucky, and Daryl had seen the things of there nightmares. It was worse for Glenn knowing to be on the look out for possible rings for you while on runs.

Carols voice cut threw the sad tension, "You have to come with me." Carol led them to a shack. Seeing Judith and Tyrese lifted some spirits. They were together again despite everything. They needed to get away from this nightmare of a place and move on.

It was later when they got a camp going for the night when Carol approached Daryl. She rested her hand on his knee. Daryl looked over and nodded in understanding at her attempt of comfort. Daryl looked to the forest before speaking, "Are first date Y/n had found a stray dog walking the streets. She jumped out the car without saying a word. Coming back with a shivering old dog." Daryl smiled at the memory before turning to look at Carol. "That date I worried about planning was thrown away to her apartment taking care of that dog. That's when I knew she was going to more then anything I thought I deserved." Carol took in the information, they were private about most thing in there relationship. Carol simply smiled, "Its people like her that have so much love to give it flows into anything around them." A chill ran up their spine ruining the moment. They both looked to the woods, the feeling of eyes on them. 'They weren't alone out here...'

Your POV

You found the tracks of the men who fled you. You notice they were headed to in the direction you saw your family head. Even more reason to kill them. Their seemed to be a good few of them as well.

The orange glow of a fire attracted you like a moth. Four sat near the fire discussing, "They stopped for the night, we'll take shifts making sure they stay there." Your jaw tightened, they were stalking your group. One of them would be watching yours group away from theirs. You were going to pick them off one by one.

You moved quietly through the woods. Tightening the strings of your hood and abandoning the gross blanket. Your left hand ache but the cold of night was helping the burning feeling it was spreading all in your hand. Your eyes shifting from tree to tree looking for the man that was watching. You saw the silhouette leaning into a tree. A distance away you could make out a slight glow of orange. They were right there... but they weren't safe yet.

You ducked between trees getting closer to the guy. Shoulders aching while you lifted your knife above your head to kill him. You were getting tired and the amount of walking and running you had done this day was probably why you missed. The man spun around swiping his knife back at you. The metal of the crossbow on your back blocked the blade from you. You thrusted the knife in your left hand into him. You slashed him between the ribs but lost grip of the knife doing so. He screams alerting both camps to his injury. You had hesitated with the vibration in your hand, leaving the man the chance to start running.

You chased after him with your original knife. He was headed to the fire, which one you didn't know. He was to far in front of you to hit. You remembered the bolt already pulled in the weapon on your back. Rolling it off your shoulders and aiming at the man about to break in to the clearing, you fired it. The sound of him falling made you jog over to were you hit him, out of breath, head and heart pounding.

The scream had made everyone pause in your camp, looking to each other as they quietly picked up there weapons. The sound of someone rushing toward them made them all stand and take aim in the direction. A man fell into their view with a arrow in his lower back, he slowly still trying to crawl away. Daryl taken notice it was one of his. A much slower pace followed behind him.

You broke through the brush panting, crossbow in left and knife in your right hand. You noticed first the man you had shot, then all the weapons aimed at you. You dropped the crossbow to the floor... moving to take your hood off. Your face was splatted with blood and sweat dripped from your hair line. You looked to everyone but stopped when you landed on Daryl. He slowly lowered his gun in disbelief. The man groaning in pain regained your attention and you flung the knife down landing into his skull.

Daryl was making a slow approach to you at first before you sniffled trying to hold back the tears and voice a simple, "Hey..." At your voice Daryl ran into you. Tucking your face into his neck as he curled into you. Holding onto you for dear life. The rest of the group had broken out in surprise and some tears. The new comers understanding your friend not foe. Rick approached as well looking down to the body you had killed, eyes wide, "You were the one killing them...?" You nodded still in your embrace with your lover. Carol approaching and hugging you from the side. You were surprised to see her, she had left the prison before anything had happened. She spoke as she side hugged you, "You were the one who leading all those walkers." Carol couldn't believe you could have done such a thing. You had nodded again and replied in realization, "And you with the gas tank."

Daryl had pulled back from you to look at your face, "How is this possible, I saw that walker take you down- Then I had heard the screams, I couldn't-" You stopped him by raising both of your hands, "I did get bit." You wiggled all your existing fingers, "Now I can only count to 8 though." Daryl's eyes were glassy, he had a black eye, he seemed to be abought to break out into a string of apologies. You reached to grab his face and rubbed his cheek with your thumb. You had to look away to turn to Rick. "Those asshole were camping near by and watching you. I would go check if their still there but knowing them they tucked tail and ran."

Rick nodded and took half the group to investigate. Leaving you at the camp with the rest. You were starting to crumple under exhaustion. You sat by the fire next to Daryl leaning into him. He rubbed a hand to your back while Maggie was taking a look at your hand. Carl standing behind her holding Judith trying to catch a glimpse of your injury. You smiled hazily at the sight. You leaned your head back into Daryl's shoulder, "You were right about, “All sweet and nice things in this world get crushed and die.” I felt a piece die in me while on a rampage... I killed so many of them, but don't feel a shred of guilt for doing so." Maggie looked up to look at both of you from cleaning and bandaging your hand, Daryl had his jaw clenched but just leaned into you. It was Carl that spoke, "How many did you kill?" You closed your eyes relaxing for the first time, feeling safe in Daryl's presence. You let out a small sigh,

"Not all of them, but I counted about 8."

It was most defiantly more then 8...

Hope you enjoyed! A FYI my requests are always open! They’re also encouraged!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff #happy ending

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