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biteofcherry · 2 years

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Nature’s beauty

mountain rescuer Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality.

warnings: consensual; barebacking; breeding kink; housewife kink; light bondage; dubiously consensual taking of risky pictures; lots of filthy talk (not even dirty, just nasty filth); mention of cumplay; established relationship; Steve’s a rescuer but who will rescue us from Steve’s hotness;

*no squirrels were harmed in the process of writing the story

“Come on. Get out of there!” You huffed, tapping your fingers against the wood of the small birdhouse installed high on the tree trunk.

It was a birdhouse - and just this morning you saw a small, colorful bird check it out - but some sneaky, red squirrel decided to squat inside it. How did it even fit through the tiny hole, you had no idea.

You noticed it as you returned from your little hike, seeing a flash of an orange fluffy tail as the squirrel stuffed its tiny butt through the hole. So you tried climbing the tree, not much successfully, and scare the intruder out.

It wouldn’t be a good house for a growing squirrel anyway.

To prop yourself, you used one of the wooden crates Steve built you for the vegetable garden that you planned on starting. Since it wasn’t enough to reach the birdhouse, you stuck another crate on top of it. The construction swayed a little, but you braced yourself against the tree trunk and reached your hand up to knock on the small wooden house.

“Your nuts won’t fit in there with you!” You called, though it was doubtful the squirrel would understand you.

The crates wobbled, but before you had a chance to stabilize yourself with both hands on the tree two strong hands gripped your hips and easily lifted you up.

“And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Steve’s steady voice calmed your initial panic.

You melted into his embrace as he set you down on your feet on the ground and spun around to face him. Your immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, straining on your tiptoes to greet him with a kiss.

He’s been gone for nearly two days - his usual shift stretching longer due to a crisis his team had to react to in the higher parts of the mountains.

“Steve.” You breathlessly whispered his name, smile stretching on your lips.

So close to the way you looked and sounded when he woke you up with his mouth between your thighs.

“You’re back.” You pecked his lips once again then grinned. “Just in time for eviction.”

“Eviction?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“A squirrel locked herself inside the birdhouse. We need to chase her away. For her own good.” You pointed up at the tree where few weeks ago Steve installed the birdhouse.

With a shake of his head and an overly dramatic sigh, Steve went to his truck to get his backpack with the climbing gear. He put the crates away - sending you a warning glare for coming up with a dangerous idea of putting your safety on top of them - then tied a rope around the tree to have a leverage for climbing. He reached the birdhouse exceptionally quickly.

Once he brought it down, you opened the front panel and shooed the squirrel away. It looked at you indignantly, holding a nut in its tiny paws, then scrambled away onto another tree near your house.

“I see you got into serious animal real estate business, even though you only got back home yourself.” Steve chuckled, pointing at your small backpack and the camera placed a few feet away.

“I went to the valley to take some shots of the early crocuses.” You beamed, picking up your things.

“But!” You kept close to Steve as you both walked up the porch and into the house. “I prepared a stew earlier and some garlic bread slices that are ready to pop into the oven.”

“Wow. You’re organized like a proper housewife.” Steve snickered, patting your ass.

“Yeah?” You glanced at him over your shoulder, waggling your eyebrows comically. “You gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant?”

“We can have that arranged.” Steve wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. He kicked the door shut behind you and dropped his backpack to the floor.

“Ah-ah!” You quickly slipped away from his grasp.

You turned around with a grin, mischievous sparks lighting your eyes. You lifted the camera and clutched it protectively to your chest.

“Gotta put the fragile goods into safety first, before you go all patriarchal on me.”

“You’ll never forgive me that vase, won’t you?” Steve hung his head in shame, but he couldn’t suppress the proud smirk on his face.

The pretty, pink glass vase became a collateral damage when the two of you resolved a minor argument with hot, angry sex.

Steve bent you over the table and fucked you so hard that your hands flailed helplessly around and you knocked the vase off the table. As the glass shattered all over the floor, you gushed around Steve’s cock with a scream that surely carried through the mountain range.

“That orgasm was worth the sacrifice.” You laughed, disappearing into the bedroom.

“But my camera is too precious to risk it!” The cottage you and Steve were living in wasn’t tiny, but small enough that your voice easily reached other parts of the house if you raised your volume a bit.

“Duly noted!” Steve called back.

He walked into the kitchen where the faint smell of stew lingered in the air. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to unlace his shoes, smiling to himself as he thought of you cooking and dancing around the kitchen.

You were quite messy when you cooked, even worse when you baked. But there was no hotter sight than you naked on your knees on the tiled floor, with smears of flour on your face and then his cum dribbling down your chin.

Suddenly, provoked by your recent words, an image of you walking around the kitchen pregnant flashed through Steve’s head.

He saw you glowing and round, cutting strawberries with a smile as he whisked the batter for pancakes. You’d snack on the strawberries, claiming to be hungry and impatient to wait for breakfast. He’d take the fruit from you with a laugh, lick the sticky juice off your fingers. Then go on his knees to pleasure you until you can’t stand upright anymore.

He imagined you bent over the sink, hands in soapy water from washing dishes, as he fucked you slowly from behind - unable to keep his hands away from your pregnant belly, needing to take you as soon as he comes home from his shift.

He easily pictured you carrying a toddler on your hip, bouncing the kid lightly as you walk barefoot around the house, the swell of your belly growing with another baby.

You’d take the kids to the meadows, play with them and take stunning photographs of the nature and of the kids exploring its beauty. You’d chase away squirrels and tend to your vegetable garden - happiness radiating off your faces. You’d cook meals and try new baking recipes, and you all would eat together.

And later in the evening, when he puts the oldest kid to bed and you nurse the newborn baby to sleep, he’d take you again.

Fill you full through your needy cries, letting the nature take its course with your body as well.

Steve was so deep in this unexpected rush of craving he didn’t hear your soft footsteps at first. Only when you called his name upon entering the kitchen did he look up.

There you were - feet bare on the floor, your pants replaced with soft, cotton pajama shorts, and in his t-shirt which you liked to wear around the house.

All that was missing from the fantasy was your pregnant belly stretching the fabric of the tee.

Steve crooked a finger at you, wordlessly calling you over.

You noticed the heat in his gaze, how wider his pupils got and that his lips were slightly parted on a quickened breath. It was a look signaling some mindblowing pleasure coming your way, though you weren’t exactly sure what caused it at the moment.

You walked over, straddling Steve’s lap and placing your hands on his shoulders. His palms spread over your ass, fingers kneading your flesh and forcing you to rock against him.

Against his undoubtedly growing, impressive erection.

“I feel that you’re really happy to see me.” You grinned at Steve, but couldn’t help yourself from rubbing against him.

“Always.” Steve muttered and kissed you.

His lips were soft, but the way he used them was anything but gentle. He took possession of your mouth, tongue slipping between your parted lips to tease a moan out of your throat.

Your fingers weaved into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp and causing Steve to purr.

He gave your asscheek a smack. Not exactly painful, but firm enough to elicit a squeak out of you and have you buck against him.

“I want to fuck you bare.” Steve growled, hips pushing up into you.

“Wha-” your mouth was still chasing his lips, your mind not yet fully catching up with his request.

Steve gave your ass another slap and tilted his head back, so your gaze focused on his eyes and what he was saying.

“I want to fuck you bare.” He repeated, his voice low and raspy with dark need.

“I want to fill you up and breed you.”

You shivered at his words. Your nipples tightened into hard peaks and your clit throbbed.

“You’re serious.” Your voice came out breathless, your throat suddenly dry.

Steve and you talked about having kids before, but it was all vague; nothing beyond agreeing that you wanted to build a family together, sometime. In the far future.

Since it was a unspecified future and your health didn’t allow for you to take pills or hormonal shots, Steve always had a strip of condoms at hand. Even in the spur of the moment quickies on your hikes, he always sheathed himself. You never took him bare.

Never felt him fill your pussy with his cum.

“What’s that thought, sweetheart?” Steve leaned forward and nipped your bottom lip when you let out an involuntary moan at the thought of being full of him.

“We’ve never done it bare.” You rubbed your heated core over his clothed cock. “I only had your cum in my mouth, or on my body.”

Corner of Steve’s mouth tilted in a smirk. He slid one of his hands to grip the back of your neck as he licked a wide stripe from your throat over your chin and up to your lips.

“I promise to still let you play with my cum from time to time, doll.” He kissed you again.

With your big eyes full of wonder, you always liked him to paint your body with white streaks of his spent. You stuck your little tongue out, swallowed him greedily, and scooped up every drop from your skin.

“But from now on, we’ll mostly fill your sweet cunt with it.”

You felt his dick twitch beneath you as he said those words. You felt your own panties and shorts dampen with your growing slick.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve nudged the tip of your nose with his affectionately. “Want to get pregnant?”

“Pregnant and barefoot?” You huffed a breathy laugh, realizing it was your own words from earlier today that spurred Steve’s desire.

“Well, some days are really cold out here, so I think we can skip the barefoot part.” He smiled against your lips. “But we’re definitely doing the pregnant part.”

You were constantly grinding against him, your breasts pressed and rubbed against Steve’s chest. Growing heat consumed you and you wanted, needed, Steve to sate the fire he ignited. You felt as if your body wouldn’t calm down until he spilled inside you, like he promised.

“Yes!” You captured Steve’s mouth, clinging to him even closer.

“Yes, Steve!” You head fell back as he kissed and bit down your throat. “Fuck a baby into me!”

In rushed moves, surprisingly efficient considering how both of you were trembling with impatience, you undid Steve’s pants and took him into your hand. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side.

You both moaned as you slid down his cock. The feel of his hot flesh without the latex cover made your toes curl.

It was quick and brutal, really; your thighs burned as you bounced up and down on his length. A tearing sound, as Steve yanked on your t-shirt, didn’t falter your pace.

Your climax came as dizzying, filling the house with your scream and Steve’s loud groan following soon after.

Nothing but the pounding of your hearts and heavy breathing, as you sat tangled and spent. A little mewl of surprise bubbled on your lips when you felt Steve’s cock twitching and spurting more of hot come inside your fluttering walls.

It was hotter and wetter than how it felt ever before; and the thought of Steve’s cum filling up through your cervix made your pussy clench around him.

When you slid off him a while later, a thick dollop of cum dribbled out of you. Steve put your panties back in place, cotton quickly filling and staining with the mixture of juices.

“That won’t do.” Steve frowned, as he pulled the waistband of your panties and glanced at the mess between your swollen folds.

“You’re dripping it all over and it has to take.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant - your brain fuzzy from the aftershocks and bliss - Steve picked you up.

He carried you to the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed. He got his t-shirt over his head in a split of a second, then moved your pliant body around, getting rid of all of your clothes as well.

“Stay here.” He pointed at you and walked out of the bedroom.

You did enjoy the view of his naked ass moving. As well the way muscles in his back flexed.

When Steve returned, he had three climbing ropes in his hands.

“What are you planning mister rescuer?” You arched a brow.

He merely winked at you, joining you on the bed and straddling you. He weaved the blue cord around your wrists, binding them to the headboard. One of the red ropes tied around your left ankle; the other around the right.

You expected Steve to tie your legs to the foot of the bed, but instead he bent your legs at the knees and pushed them up toward your chest and slightly to the sides. The ends of the rope he tied to the headboard as well.

Once he was done, your breath was quickened again, as your vulnerable exposed position registered.

“Now,” Steve knelt back and ran a finger up your ass, “all my cum will stay nicely snug in your pussy.”

He scooped whatever dribbled out of you and pushed it back into your quivering cunt. He was right. In this improvised bondage version of a mating press, your hips were tilted up enough for the gravity to work in favor of impregnation.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve looked at you, love and desire shining in his eyes.

From your gorgeous face, hair sticking to your sweaty skin; your breasts shaking with each breath and your lovely legs strained and bound; to your gorgeous ass and glistening, swollen folds.

A thick trickle of his cum lingered just below your leaking hole. He moved his hand slowly up your ass, reaching up to push that one drop back inside you.

“I wish I could preserve this image forever.” He murmured.

Then paused.

Slowly, Steve’s gaze shifted from your pussy to your face. His eyes darkened and a naughty, evil really, smirk curved his mouth.

“What are you thinking, Steve?” You asked warily, partly scared of his wicked idea and partly excited.

Steve got off the bed, but returned rather quickly.

With your camera in his hands.

“You can’t be serious.” You squeaked, squirming against your bonds. But they were fucking secured top notch, you were unable to even pull your legs closer together.

“Why not?” Fingers of his left hand returned to your heated skin while he held the camera in his right hand. “You take photographs of nature. What’s more natural than this?”

He traced one of your swollen folds and pulled it slightly to the side, exposing your hole and the white cream filling it.

A shutter clicked. First photo of your pussy saved on the memory card.

Steve took a few more photos, from different angles. Some close-ups of his cum, some a wider perspective including your stretched body visible between your spread legs.

He moved closer, kneeling up and positioning his hardened cock between your sopping folds.

He moaned as he watched his dick slide back and forth; looked up at your face and held your gaze when you whimpered as the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit repeatedly.

“What’s more natural than a pretty cunt serving its purpose?” Steve rasped out, guiding the tip into your opening.

He angled the camera again, snapping a picture of your pussy opening up for him. Then a series of photos as he slowly pushed inside.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re taking me so good.” Steve bit down on his lip as he thrust deeper. “Such a fucking beautiful sight.”

He flipped the camera function to video, recording as he buried himself in your wet cunt. Your wrecked moan at the stretch, too. And the squelching sound of a filled pussy.

Steve’s free hand rested on your mound, thumb drawing the hood over your clit up and then resting on the hardened nub. Your hips bucked when he started rubbing.

He tilted the camera up, making sure to register all of your body before focusing on your face. You whined his name aloud.

When you noticed the camera pointed at you, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy on me, sweetheart.” Steve cooed, maintaining a steady pace. “You’re stunning. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. And your pretty, little pussy-”

He returned the lens between your spread thighs, recording every detail of his cock driving into you.

His dick shined with your juices and remnants of his cum. Your folds were puffed and darkened, and your clit crushed under his big thumb. Your wetness smeared around, glistening on your ass and thighs, as well shimmering on the hair above Steve’s cock.

“She’s swallowing me, doll. Greedy, little pussy.” Steve growled, picking up his rhythm.

“What she’s hungry for, sweetheart? Huh?” Though his hand was shaking slightly, he managed to move the camera so it was recording your face again.

“Tell me, what she’s hungry for?” He delivered a firm smack atop your clit that made you squeak and clench around him.

“It’s hungry for your cum!” You cried out.

You felt the heat engulf you whole, felt it almost burn the skin off your cheeks from the inside.

Steve always had a penchant for dirty talk, but it wasn’t always as nasty. Just a few lines here and there. Something about fucking you bare, trying to knock you up, made him wilder. And he forced you to interact along with him.

“Wants to be filled?” Steve’s raspy voice prompted again, another slap stinging your clit.

“It wants to be filled so bad!” Your need overcame the embarrassment.

With your eyes still closed, you babbled all the filth you were shy to admit, but everything you knew Steve wanted to hear.

“Wants you to fuck it hard and come inside. Please, Steve. Need you- Need you to make me take it! Fill my belly and make it swell!”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Steve nearly came at the sputter of your dirty words. “My sweet, fucking, dirty girl.”

He put the camera down on the side of the bed. He didn’t bother to switch it off.

It recorded a slightly blurred angle of Steve’s hips driving into you, his balls slapping against your butt as he leaned fully on top of you and bottomed out.

It recorded the sounds of your bodies - wet squelching, skin slapping, Steve’s heavy groans and your high pitched cries; and filthy demands.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Steve stretched himself over you and propped his weight on his forearms on both sides of your head.

“I am! I am, I’m so close, Steve!”

Your body wanted to move along with his, to rock up into him and touch him, but your tied limbs prevented you from doing so. You could only lay there and take whatever Steve gave you. However he gave it.

“I’ll get you there, I promise.” He nipped along your jaw, lavishing each sting with a lick of his tongue. “First, though-” he paused to kiss you fully.

A surprisingly thorough kiss, considering how frantically his hips were pumping you.

Steve’s voice turned into a low, gravelly growl.

“Tell me your purpose, my sweet fuck doll.”

So close to the edge that your toes were curling, you weren’t resilient enough to fight for more dignity. You knew what hot, humiliating words Steve fished for.

And you knew you could scream them out, because once he untied you and you left the bedroom, Steve would respect you like he always did. He would worship the ground you walk on and cherish you. Give you the stars, if he could.

“My p-purpose-” your voice choked on a moan as Steve angled his hips, driving his cock into that spongy, oversensitive spot inside you.

With a whine you dropped your gaze down, unable to look right into Steve’s eyes as you cried out the words.

“To be bred! Fuuuuck. To be bred and have your babies! Be y-your, ah, little housewife. To serve you, serv- Fuck! Steve!”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Steve groaned, leaning his forehead against yours.

He slowed his pace, but each snap of his hips drove his cock into you deep and rough. Skilled, coarse fingers maneuvered between your bodies, finding your clit.

A few strokes over your nub combined with the incessant pounding into your sweet spot were enough to push you over the edge.

You clenched your hands around the ropes that tied your wrists to the headboard as you shattered. Steve’s choked, low moans lost in the sound of your keening, as he came right after you.

Steve dragged his lips across your cheek toward your lips. Kissed you slowly, and wet. Your ragged breaths mingled, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths and popping.

He remained buried inside you, his cock twitching and spurting more cum into your clenching channel.

“I fucking love you.” Steve breathed heavily, a huff of chuckle at the end of his confession.

“Mhmm. I love you, too.” You opened your eyes halfway. “You perv.”

You both laughed, a quiet, intimate sound between lovers that knew each other to the tiniest bone.

With a displeased groan, Steve pushed himself up. He was careful as he sat back, not wanting to slip out of your pussy too quickly.

His gaze focused on your joined bodies as he withdrew inch by inch. His cock glistened with thick cream; your walls fluttered at the friction. He admired your open hole for a moment then squeezed your puffed folds between his fingers.

“Gotta keep it in, sweetheart.” Steve tugged on your folds lightly, keeping them pinched between his fingers.

“I could make you come again. Help your pussy swallow more of it into your womb.” His eyes, still hazy with desire, drifted back to your face.

You groaned. Your cunt clenched at the mere idea of another orgasm shattering your body.

“How about we leave it as it is for now?” You wiggled your butt as much as you could in your restraints. “You can do more nasty things to me in the upcoming days.”

Because you knew if you allowed Steve to make you come again now, he’d use his mouth. And if he used his mouth, he would switch into the overstimulation mindset - he always did that when he went down on you.

You were plenty ruined today without that.

“As you wish.” Steve sighed, with exaggerated disappointment.

“But I’m keeping your legs tied up for a bit longer.” He announced, releasing your folds and patting them less than gently.

You squeaked and glared at him, but it only made him grin.

“Better untie my hands.” You said, making a comically frowny face. “So I can call for the mountain rescuing service to save me from a brutal bear’s captivity.”

Steve laughed and plopped down on his ass, then stretched himself on the bed crosswise. He reached for the camera and finally turned recording off.

He did switch to a browsing mode, though.

“Stop working yourself up again!” You reprimanded him when you realized why Steve moaned suddenly. “Untie me and bring me food.”

“Isn’t it your purpose to serve me food, little housewife?” Steve propped himself on his elbows and looked at you with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t do that while I’m bound.” You smiled sweetly.

Steve moved up and leaned over you, untying the ropes around your hands in two swift moves. He rubbed the skin on your wrists then placed a soft kiss on each.

“Hmm, brutal bear has to think of ways to keep you full and still able to do your housewife duties.” He winked at you.

“Yes, yes, can you think of that while we’re eating?” You rolled your eyes.

As on cue, your stomach rumbled.

“You stew here.” Steve moved down your body and kissed your abdomen, then hopped off the bed. “I’ll reheat everything. Want some wine, too?”

Slipping his pants back on, Steve left the bedroom. And you inside it.

With your legs still up and spread, your hips tilted up and cum brewing in your cunt.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You yelled after him.

His response was an impudent snicker.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #mountain rescuer steve rogers #mountain rescuer steve rogers x reader #steve fic: nature's beauty

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shotgunbunny · 3 months

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─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─

WC:9K Dividers are by @f-loqweres

[70s!Dark!Corrupt!Cop!Leon x 70s!Innocent!Neighbour!Reader.}

[warnings!!! This fic is for 18+ only! Not proofread.]

[This can be applied with any version of Leon too!]

[Contains: Violence/Smut/degradation/praise/spiked condoms/baby trapping/ oral(f receiving)/manipulation/corrupt cop/yandere Leon/non con somno/panty sniffing/jerking off to you while you're asleep]

You lived at home with your parents and your older sister still, not because you had to, but because you wanted to. Life was sweet and happy in this household, a happy family of sorts if you didn't look too closely at your mother's drinking and your father's health issues and PTSD. It was simple, it was sweet and you never felt like the world could harm you. And it definitely helped that your neighbour across the street was a hunk of a man. His constant brooding atmosphere would make you squeeze your plush thighs together.

But today was special, today was your first day on the job as a waitress at the nearby café down the road that you adorned. They served the best strawberry milkshakes there and would always give you extra cream and a stripy red straw, so applying for the job there was a no-brainer. You smile brightly as you wake up, the birds singing to you in the trees on the street. You push back your soft pink bedsheets and slip out of bed before walking down the stairs, dressed in your cream white pyjamas that consisted of shorts that had pink bows and a vest that had a bow in the middle.

You walk into a kitchen and pull a bowl out of the cupboard and then head to the pantry and pull out a box of cereal. You turn around and bump into your sister, you smile even brighter as you gaze at her. "Good morning!" you chirp, only to be met by her grunt. She was never a morning person, and you could only assume it was because she was up all night on the phone talking to her boyfriend. You giggle to yourself at the imaginary idea of her fingering and twirling the phone cord around her finger as she kicks her feet and babbles to her boyfriend.

You head to the counter and pour your cereal before manoeuvring past your sister and putting the box back in the pantry. You skip to the fridge and get the milk out and pour it, and then put the milk back. It seemed mundane as any other day, but you were buzzing with excitement of finally working and wearing your cute uniform that was provided. You were excited to serve friends and strangers and

give them the best milkshake and fries ever! Or at least serve it to them with a sweet smile. You dig into your cereal and beam brightly when your dad walks in, he ruffles your hair before sitting across you at the table. He sits down with a huff and pulls his newspaper put. "You excited, kiddo? First day of being an official adult." Your lips curve into a much bigger smile, and you nod excitedly at him

Before continuing to eat eagerly. You were in your 20s, but that never took away from your wonder and naivety of the world. ’S going to be awesome dad! Even the sun is shining, so that's proof it's going to be amazing!" You manage to squeak out with a mouth full of cereal. You slurp the milk and then quickly head to the sink to wash it up.

You skip up the stairs before kissing your mums cheek as you skip past her, you open your door and quickly shower. You dry your hair and sit at your vanity, You giggle and style your hair, bringing it into pigtails and tying two pink bows around it. You apply some mascara and lip gloss. Your eyes looking bigger and softer and your lips shining, adding even more to your charming smile. You pull your

white lace bra and panties on. Your good luck set, whenever you wore them something good would happen. You pull on your frilly ankle socks on, and jump up.

You make your bed up before you forget and open your closet and pull your uniform on before putting it on. It was a cute white flowy skirt with pink polka dot hearts on it, all matched with a pink gingham strap top. Your breasts were hugged nicely

By the top and the skirt only just went to your thighs. It was a little revealing, so you pulled on your pink shorts on underneath. You pull your cute white shoes on and complete the look with pink

heart shaped glasses. You grab your bag which had your purse and open your window and then skip down the stairs, waving your family goodbye before you go outside.

As you step outside, the door closing behind you, the sun shines down on you, making your glow as bright as your smile. You skip down to the café, not noticing the eyes on you from across the road. Leon was absolutely entranced by you, you were a vision to behold, something he wished to hold. He was dressed in his tight black top and his police pants. He lets out a soft laugh as he watches you go, the sun seeming to shine even brighter to him today. He hops into his police car and heads out to his job today, turning the radio as he drives, humming softly to a Led Zepplin song.

It was 4pm now, and your shift had been extraordinary. All your friends stopped by, and you even managed to sneak an extra cherry into each of their milkshakes and got to chat with them before continuing to serve other customers. They adored you, your look, your smile, and how sweet and talkative you were. It was magical the effect you had on others, how you drew them in with your every word like a cute pink magnet that they all couldn't help grin back just as wide. You had even made new friends, some of the girls were so sweet that you couldn't help but get along with them. Complimenting how breath-taking they looked, and they returned the compliment which led you to sparking up conversations with until they eventually had to leave.

You had two hours left on your shift, so now you were happily sweeping the baby blue chequered tiled floor, you moved your hips slowly to the music that was playing softly from the jukebox in the corner, it was a soft sway, and you couldn't help but indulge yourself in being swept away in the groove and the lull of your feet. You hum along happily, dazed in your own world of sweet treats and delights, when the doorbells chimes and snaps you out of your moment. You snap your gaze to the door and your eyes go as wide as a cherry pie. There stood in all his magnificent glory was your neighbour, the most loved cop in the town, Leon. You blink a few times before a smile pulls at your glossed lips, and you wave at him.

He chuckles, and the deep rumble sends shocks to between your thighs, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the sugar fairy that lives across from me." He says, pronouncing every syllable so easily that the sound nearly knocked you off your feet. You chuckle shyly in response, "Mr. Kennedy, I’m surprised you even knew who I was!" You say before you can hold yourself back. You blush at your idiocy, how could you ask such a dumb question. Of course, he knew who you were, you were his neighbour, and you would often share a wave or a nod when you saw each other in the morning when getting the mail. He chuckles again, "How could I ever forget my favourite sunflower. I heard from your father it's your first day, How's it goin' honey?" He coos to you, and your eyes go starstruck at the pet names before you snap out of your admiration, and you grin widely at him. "Oh, it's going wonderful, Mr, Kennedy!" You chirp excitedly at him.

You wave your small hand at him, ushering him closes. He takes a step towards you and bends down so he can hear, assuming you were going to gossip or tell him a secret. "Go on, honey. Tell me," He says expectantly. You lean up on your tiptoes and cover his ear with your hand, "I managed to give all your friends extra Cherries for their milkshakes! But don't tell Mr. Wesker, he might get mad!" You whisper sweetly, your charm oozing off you. Trapping Leon in a state of desire and affection at how adorable you were.

"Say doll, if I ordered one, would you manage to sneak an extra one in for me? I've had a hard day keeping the streets safe and you." He coos down at you again. You nod quickly, and he laughs at your eager actions. He stands up to his full height of 6'4 and smiles down softly at you as he towers over you. "Of course, Mr. Kennedy! Thank you for keeping everyone safe, including me!" Leon's heart swells at your compassion. "Doll, call me Leon." He says in a gentle command. "Okay, Leon!" You chirp his name out, loving how it sounded and tasted in your mouth. "What kind of Milkshake do you want?" You ask, tilting your head curiously at him. "Hmmmm, what do you suggest, Doll? What's as sweet as you?" He asks, keeping his blue eyes locked on your pretty face. "Well... I'd suggest maybe a chocolate sundae or even the caramel drizzle! But you can't go wrong with a strawberry milkshake!" You babble to him.

He absorbs every word, listening intently, but he can't help but wonder how you taste. Your kisses have to be sugary sweet and your pussy would definitely be as pretty as your glossed lips, so maybe it would taste of pure delight. He stopped his thoughts and coughed, he angled his body away and adjusting his half hard cock for a moment before grinning down at your innocent face.

"I'll take a strawberry milkshake. With an extra cherry." He says smugly as he winks down at you. He moves his large frame to sit in one of the booths, and a few seconds later your angelic form appears holding a milkshake. You place it on the table in front of him and reach into your cute little apron pocket and pull out a cherry. Leon gently takes it from your hand before he smirks at you. "Seems like I've just taken your cherry, doll." He says, his eyes darkening at the innuendo. You nod, clueless to the interaction. He laughs, "Doll, Just so you know. Your cherry is mine. And mine only. So don't give out any more, or I'll have to arrest them. Understand, doll?" you gaze at him, looking deep into his blue eyes. The usually bright and sweet baby blues were now dark like a vast ocean. Reckless, strong and unpredictable. You could tell he was serious, but you didn't understand why he was acting like this over...cherries.

You shake it off and smile confused at him but nod, "I mean it, doll. The cherry between your legs is mine." He says darkly. Giving you a serious look. A warning. You blush but nod, finally understanding his innuendo. "C-can I ask why?" You stutter out. He snickered, "Because doll, I have my eye on you. I'm gonna court you. I've seen you gazing at me from your window. Your curious little eyes eating me up. Bet I was a delicious little meal for you to rub to, huh?" You turn red and pull away whimpering in embarrassment at being found out, Leon's big hands wrap around your dainty wrist, and he pulls you back.

"Ah-ah-ah, no doll. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I did the same," He reassures, but still you remain distant from him and lets out a sigh. "'M sorry, doll, I didn't mean to tease. Please sit down, share my milkshake with me? I promise no more teasing, I'll go slow baby. Promise." You gaze at him shyly but sit across from him. He grins like the cat got the cream and offers you the straw, you happily accept. You pause for a moment and stare at him, only to find his eyes already trained on you.

You cough and wipe your lips, "So um- are you sure? That you want to court me? You're kind of a wanted bachelor, you're the cool rich cop that everyone wants. I mean, I've heard through the grapevine how everyone wants you. You're smart, strong, You have a car, a house, a good pay, and handsome. You're charismatic. So why?" You ask him, your eyes big and round, desperately searching his face for answers with desperate puppy dog eyes. "Because doll, you're perfect for me. I'm a broody guy, I need my sunshine. Need you to sweeten my bitter taste. Look at you, you're my sugar fairy and Goddamn, I want cavities." He asserts. He was firm on you. You giggle and bite your lip, "Okay." You say, submitting to his command unknowingly.

He smirks. "Good girl. I'll drive you home after your shift." You cough out some of your milkshake, your eyes wides. "But my shift ends in-" Leon cuts you off, "An hour and a half. I know you finish at 6, doll. I made it happen." You blink at him and gaze at him confused, "What?" You mutter, Leon scans your face before huffing, "Well, doll. You seemed bored with staying at home all the time, so I pulled some strings. Got this job opening, made sure you git it, But I didn't want you working 'til 8. Can't have that, honey. You come home at 6 to make dinner and wind down." Your brows furrow, but before you can speak, Leon interrupts you, "I want you, doll. I want you to be my wife. But I don't want to trap you, so I thought you'd like this job. Do you not like it?" You quickly shake your head, "No! I-I want it. I just- 'S a bit controlling?" You murmur. Leon chortles, "Don't you want someone in charge? Someone who helps guide you?" He coos and you gaze down thinking about it. It was nice, having someone guide you. But not like a parent, rather like someone trying to help you so you didn't have to think so hard about the things that confused you in life.

You nod at him, "I guess you're-" Leon cuts you off again, "No guessing, fairy." You nod, "You're right." You say firmly and Leon beams, his pearly whites being revealed like a predator who caught his prey. "Good. My little Bambi. Go on, go back to work, I'll be doing some police paperwork while I wait, okay?" You stand up and brush down your apron. "Okay." You nod. He pulls you to him as he's sat down. He taps his cheek with a cheeky look in his eyes, and you lean down and kiss his cheek. Leaving a lip glossed stain on his cheek. "Good Bambi." And with that praise, you bounce back to work even happier. Your good luck underwear really paid off.

You and Leon had now been dating for 3 months, and it was all magical, He'd pick you up every day after work, he kept some of your makeup and other small charms in the passenger seat storage area of his police car. It wasn't a typical police car, he had an undercover Red Chevy. You knew it made the girls crazy, but Leon was absolutely stuck on you. His eyes would always be on you in any room, and it boosted your ego beyond belief. You had shared stolen kisses and every single one took your breath away, but lately Leon had become more handsy, it was welcome, but you were shy, you were a virgin, and you knew Leon wasn't. You didn't want to disappoint him when he had so much experience. Regardless of this, he was still keen on you.

Nearly everyday he would cross the street and knock at your door, He'd greet your parents and give your mother flowers and would talk to your father about his arrests and everything. He fit perfectly into your family, He was pulling the strings perfectly after months of studying you and your family, he was finally starting to act. He had been in your room, staying over for a night. He teased you about the view you had of his house, and how you would probably hump pillows in thoughts of him soaking your pretty white frilly pillow cases over the mere thoughts of him. And when you fell asleep that night cuddled up in his arms in hour princess bed, he snuck away for a moment and pulled out your panties from the day from the hamper. He groans quietly as he helps the soft panties in his hand.

His cock stirred as he brought the panties to his face and took a deep breath in, smelling your underwear. He quietly unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock, it was aching with need over the idea of your virgin cunt squeezing his cock as he's deep inside your heat. His hand wrapped around his dick, pulling the foreskin back and rubbing the tip. He moves closer to the bed, where you were fast asleep. He begins to slowly move his hand with a tight grip, trying to resemble how tight you would be. He licks the panties against his face, his eyes rolling back at the musky taste, the scent invading his head, and his eyes darken. He begins to fist his cock eagerly before pausing and smirking. He moves and straddles your sleeping form on the bed.

There was no chance of you waking up, after all, he had drugged your drink before bed with sleeping pills he had swiped from someone he had arrested that day. He groans softly as he goes harder. Soft 'plaps' echo in your cute little bedroom as Leon's cock gets even harder at what he's doing. He gazes down at you, sniffing your panties intensely. "Just you wait- gonna fuck your tight little baby cunt so good. Gonna make you cry on my cock, show you how good a real man can make you instead of your stupid fuckin' pillows." He growls as he moves his hand even faster he hunches over you, a hand over your head while his other hand holds your cute frilly panties against his face.

"Fuck baby, gonna fuck you dumber than you are. Gonna make sure you get knocked up too. Then your parents will have to let you marry me. A shotgun wedding, but it's gonna be fuckin' perfect. God, just know your cunt is perfect, look at how pretty you are, Just know it's divine. Gonna ruin it too." He hisses his vile words down at your peaceful form. He could feel his climax mounting, and he can't help but lean down and let his cock graze your little pouty lips. His eyelids flutter and his ass and thighs tense as he cums hard. He paints your face. He pants and gazes down at your groaning at the beautiful sight.

He comes down and moves off the bed. He cleans his cock with your panties and throw them back into the hamper. He gets a towel and cleans your face. He returns into bed next to you and smirks. He kisses your forehead and falls asleep happy, and you were none the wiser.

Tonight, you were finally going to sleep at Leon's. You had showered, shaved and were now sat on your bed putting talcum powder on your legs to make them even smoother. It wasn't that you were insecure. It's just you wanted it to be perfect. You wanted to impress Leon, wanted your first time to be one from fairy tales. You brush your hair and stray some perfume that smelled of vanilla, strawberries and cherries. You look through your underwear and bite your lip, your brows furrow as you run your hands over the lacy garment before finally deciding on the classic white lace lingerie.

You gaze at yourself in the mirror and race your hands to your flushed cheeks. You were blushing so much, you needed to cool and calm down. You puff your cheeks out and pull on your frilly ankle socks and then your cute bloomer shorts, topped with an oversized pink sweater that Leon had bought when you went shopping uptown. You sigh at the memory, how the warm air ran through your hair, how big Leon's hand was compared to yours. You brush your hair one more time and then gaze at your reflection one last time. It was a cute and comfortable outfit, and most importantly easy to take off. You hear a knock at the door and your heart races.

You skip downstairs and open the door, Your big eyes gazing up at Leon through your lashes. Leon's heart swells at the sight of you, "Bambi, you look perfect." He breathes out. You giggle, some of your nerves calmed down. "I haven't got my shoes on, so you'll have to wai-" A squeal leaves your lips as Leon picks you up, holding you bridal style. Leon chuckles at the thought that crosses his mind at how he's carrying you. Soon you really would be his bride, and he'd carry you over the threshold just like this, except you were gonna be round with his child.

He steps into your house still holding you, he pops his head into the living room and beams his charming smile at your family. "I'll take care of her and bring her back tomorrow after work. Don't worry, her uniform is already packed and ready." Your dad nods his head proudly at Leon, and Leon returns the gesture. He then turns and walks to his house across the road, carrying you like a prized possession which you are. Leon opens his door and places your door. Your sock clad feet touching the hard dark would, you venture further, admiring the dark rustic aesthetic which Leon had around his house.

Leon kicks his shoes off and closes the door, you turn and tilt your head. Leon mirrors your actions, "What is it, Bambi?" you poke his chest, "You lied to my dad. I don't have work tomorrow." Leon throws his head back, snickering. "Bambi, baby, y'know I've lied to your dad more than you know. But I want as much time with you as possible." You smile at him, the rest of your mind drifting over his first words. You gaze up at him shyly, and he can sense your nerves, he took a step closer. His figure looms over you, but his hands are gentle as he rubs your arms. "There's no rush, baby. We can take this at our pace, okay?" He murmurs sweetly.

When he doesn't get a response, he tilts your chin up, gazing down at you, his blue eyes scanning your face. "Words, Bambi." He commands softly. You gulp down all your fears, "Okay," You whisper. A smile cracks on his lips, "How about...we cook dinner? Or I let you cook, show me how good of a wife in training you are?" Your eyes lighten up, and you skip to the kitchen. This was a test for you, but you didn't know. Leon wanted to see how good of a home-maker you were, you were eager to please and serve which already made Leon swoon, but you also had his heart and if you asked he would serve it to you on a silver platter sprinkled in sugar with a side of strawberry ice cream.

After cooking a lovely dinner and eating it with Leon, you were left full and happy. Leon had thrown so many compliments your way that had made you blush and squirm, you could no longer contain the blush on your cheeks. Every few moments when you were both eating, Leon would let out a groan of pure delight. His sharp eyes stuck to your faces, adoring the cute blush on your cheeks and the effect that he was having on you. You were going to be the perfect wife if this was only one of the dishes you could make, it was delightful and pure heaven for his taste buds.

But even if you weren't good at cooking, Leon would have still married you and still have eaten everything you made. How could he not, you served him his meal with the brightest smile and the most innocent eyes that craved his attention and his praise. He smiles softly at you after finishing his dinner, he watches as you stand up and collect the plates and bring them to the sink. His brows furrow, a small wrinkle of confusion settling between his brows. "Bambi baby, what are you doing?" He asks curiously as he approaches you from behind. He wraps his strong arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, his hulking figure draped on you like a blanket.

You hum softly at the domestic actions you're both sharing. You clean the dishes in the sink, "'M just washing up. 'S best to be on top of it all! Trust me! One time, I didn't wash up for like 6 days - and wow! When I finally did wash up, it was like I was in a restaurant back washing up! There were soooo many dishes!" Leon melts at your babbles, you had him in the palm of your hands. He may have planned everything, but he hadn't planned how much he would truly love you. Of course, he knew he'd love you, he just didn't expect it to be this strong. He was at your beck and call, and if you wished for him to cook instead he would, if you wanted anything it was certain that he would get it for you. Do it for you. How could he ever not love you when you were so perfect.

Leon tugs at your hips after you've finished washing up and drying your hands with a towel. You giggle, "Bambi baby, c'mere." He mutters in a deep rumble. You allow yourself to be pulled away y him, He turns your hips gently so you were facing him. His eyes peer down at you, affection and adoration gleaming in them. You feel your heart racing and his big, rough, calloused hand cups your soft cheek, and he leans down slowly, pausing just as his lips graze yours. His breath his your lips and you whine, he sniggers at your whine, "Oh what's wrong baby, you want a kiss?" He teases and your hands clutch at his top, your hands scrunching the fabric at his chest. "You want it, baby, you gotta ask." He asserts. Your big, doe like eyes stare up into his dangerous ocean eyes, "Please? Can I have a kiss? Want you, want tonight to be perfect." Leon turns to a puddle, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

"If you're here, Bambi, everything is already perfect." He mutters firmly before he presses his lips to yours. You sigh happily and begin to move your lips against his. Slowly, softly and sweetly. It felt perfect, Leon's strong frame holding you so gently as you kiss. Leon takes it a step further and pinches your hip, making you gasp, and he eagerly shoves his tongue into your mouth. His tongue licks against yours and the explores your mouth, you can't help but moan at his casual dominance in a kiss and Leon eagerly swallows your moans. He breaks away, a line of spit connects you, shining in the kitchen light. Leon wipes it away from your lips, and you mewl up at him. He smirks. "Do you want more Bambi? Do you want me to finally take your cherry, hmm?" You blush again and nod before you remember his command. "Y-yes." Your heart races as you watch Leon's lips tug up into a large grin.

"Good girl." He coos at you, remembering his command. He turns your hips in the direction of the stairs and pats your ass. "Go on, baby, I'll meet you upstairs." He mutters into your ear before kissing the shell of it. You eagerly skip up the stairs, and Leon takes a deep breath in the kitchen. He adjusts his half hard cock and pulls out his box of condoms in the kitchen drawer. He pulls one out and stabs a few tiny holes through it. His plan was going into motion, and he was going to knock you up. Tonight.

You gaze at his bedroom, admiring how sleek and moody it was. The bed was a king-sized with a dark wooden frame, with navy blue sheets on the bed with matching pillows. On the dark wooden floor were deep fluffy red carpets, a black dresser and wardrobe. It seemed so…empty but full at the same time. You take a shy step further into the bedroom and gaze around, you see the en suite bathroom joined to his bedroom and glance around the room looking for a scrap of a personal item rather than his police attire and life that was on the dresser table. Leon's footsteps are heard padding up the stairs before he appears behind you, His arms wrapped around your waist and cranes his head down to kiss and nip at your neck. You sigh and sink into him. You let out a squeak at the feeling of his teeth scraping against your pulse point, he presses a soft kiss against it before he sucks and sinks his teeth into it, leaving a hickey into his wake. He smirks as he sees you panting hard. He turns you again, your body weak and easily to move compared to his strength and determination.

His hands play with the hem of your pink sweater, "'S cute baby, always looks so damn cute. Now, I'm gonna see what's mine. Can't believe you've been hiding my little treat under pink fabric, teasing me all the time." He mutters as he pulls the sweater up, and you raise your arms obediently. He pulls the sweater fully off you and throws it on the floor. "Fuck." He hisses out as he gazes at your lingerie clad torso. "Sit on the bed. Now." He demands, and your pussy feels a wave of delight wash over it at his dominance. You sit down on the bed and watch as this mountain of a man fall to his knees in front of you. He pulls your cute little socks off before trailing his hands up your legs, his hands feeling the smoothness of them as he slides them up to your thighs. He tugs at your bloomer shorts, "Lift your hips up Bambi baby." He mutters and you do as he says. He quickly tugs the pants from your hips, and you can sit back on the bed as he pulls the bloomers fully off.

He gazes up at you with wonder, his eyes devouring you as you sit in your white lace lingerie. It clings to your body like a second skin, the thong sitting comfortably on your hips your breasts were cupped by the lace, making them seem even more beautiful and erotic to Leon's needy and lustful eyes. Leon kisses from your ankle and all the way up to your thighs. He spreads your legs, and you lay down on the bed, biting your lips as you blush. His hands slide under the sides of your thong, and he smirks. He knows you're expecting him to slide them off, but with how you look, it's like you're a gift waiting to be unravelled, and he knew exactly how to unravel you. A tearing noise is heard as Leon uses his brute strength to tear your thong off. You gasp, "Leon-" He cuts you off immediately, "I'll buy you a new one, let me see my gift." He mutters darkly. He spreads your knees, and gazes down at your silky, wet pussy. He groans, the deep rumble making your pussy drool more.

He leans down and nuzzles his nose against your clit, and you let out a stuttered gasp. Leon lets go of his control and licks a long stripe up your cunt. He lets out a shuddered moan of his own, like you do. "'S like fuckin' heaven. It's like the sweetest honey." He mutters to himself, his pupils fully dilated as he gazes at your heat, his eyes nearly black with lust. He burrows his head between your folds, licking eagerly like he was dehydrated, and you were the only water available. He moves his head up to lick at your clit, abusing it with his desperate tongue lashes. One of his hands slide up your thighs to your folds, he slides his fingers up and down your folds getting them soaked. He sucks your clit into his mouth as he eases two fingers into your cute little hole. Leon's eyelids flutter as he listens to your melody of moans and how tight you're gripping his fingers.

He begins to thrust them in time to his tongue lashings. He lets his other hand slide up your stomach and slide under your lingerie bra. He squeezes the fat of your breast, his finger flicks over your nipple before he circles it. You squirm and whine at the sheer pleasure coursing through your body. Leon continues his eager lapping at your pussy as he crooks his fingers against your g spot, and your eyes widen. Your hips shift up and your thighs shiver, you tense up as you cum hard. Leon groans in a deep growl. He pulls away from your throbbing cunt, and he spits on it, he pulls his fingers from you and smiles, "My cunt. Understand, Bambi?". He brings it them to his lips and licks them clean. "'S like the sweetest thing I've ever goddamn had. Wanna taste you on my tongue forever." Leon crawls on top of you, his large body hovering over you with an animalistic look in his eyes. He tears your bra off just as easily as he did your thong, and he lets out a growl as he gazes at your body. "Look at these beautiful tits. Can't believe you hid them from me. Stupid slut, I was always gonna see 'em. Was always gonna have them." He hisses down at you.

He pulls away and eagerly strips, revealing his muscular body. His cock is throbbing and standing tall. He leans down and pulls the condom for his pants. He tears it open with his teeth and smirks. "You wanna roll it down on me, Bambi? You wanna feel my cock before it ruins your little baby pussy?" You blush but nod. You sit up and shyly take the condom and slide it down his strong, veiny cock. You gasp at the feel of it, "'S so big, 's not gonna fit." You whimper out. Leon takes your small hand off his cock and pins you down on his bed. "I'll make it fit." He hisses dangerously. He slides the tip of his cock between your fold before he presses it against your entrance. He begins to slowly push in side before he quickly slams his hips against yours. He grabs your thighs, you lay with your jaw is slacked, and your eyes are closed tightly in shock at the sheer feeling of the stretch. He had taken your virginity.

You didn't have a hymen, having broken it when you were riding your bike when you were young. He wraps your thighs around his waist before he slowly begins to rock his hips, his pubes rubbing against your clit, making you moan. Leon begins to thrust more now, faster and harder now that you were feeling pleasure. He can't help the filth that rolls off his tongue as he fucks you, "Such a sweet cunt. 'S so good. Gripping me so good. Fuckin' knew it would. Your little cunt was made for me. Such a fuckin' whore that your cunt accepted me so eagerly. Fuckin' perfect little Bambi, saving your little pussy for me. Feel how tight you're gripping me? Can feel every vein of my cock?" He hisses down at you before he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you sloppily and desperately, the sounds of your soaking heat echoing through the room, as well as Leon's balls slapping against your ass. Leon growls as he pulls away ad looks down at your blissed out face. Leon grabs your knees and bends them to press against your chest, Leon fucking you even stronger, all his control out the window.

Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and his eyes were closed as his groans joined into the song of your moans. He pants as he watches your thighs tremble beneath his grip, your eyes fly open and you arch your back. You let out an earth-shattering moan a which turns into a squeal as you cum hard, squeezing him impossibly tight. He lets out a whimper at how tight you're gripping him and his hips stutter as his muscle tenses and he cums too. He stays on top of you, keeping you folded in half. He pulls out of you slowly and smirks as he sees some of his cum dripping from your heat. He walks to his bathroom bin and throws the condom in, and grabs a wet towel. He returns and gently cleans between your thighs.

"Did so good, baby. You were perfect. Let me take care of you now, okay?" He coos down at you, and you nod lazily, wiped out. Leon pulls out a pair of his boxers and gently tugs them on you, and then one of his oversized T-shirts. He smiles as he sees you already fast asleep. Leon continues around the house, turning the lights off and double-checking that the doors locked. He walks back up and into his room. He picks you up and cradles you in his arms as he gets into bed and tucks you close to his chest, pulling his sheets over you. He kisses your forehead and drifts off to sleep beside you, keeping you close to him.

That night truly was perfect and the morning after was something born from fairy tales, Leon’s soft kisses lingering against your neck before travelling up to kiss you cheeks then your closed eyelids and then finally your forehead. You hum softly as you woke up, your lids fluttering open to see the beautiful man you called yours perched above you. His strong arms caging you in under him in a protective pin almost like he was tying to hide the world from seeing your beauty this early in the morning. “Mornin’ Bambi,” He coos down at you in a whisper, his voice sleepy and deep making him almost growl. You lean up and kiss him softly to which he eagerly returns the action, his lips pressed against yours, his body pinning your further down to the bed as he lowered his weight down onto you. He pushes your head down with his own as he kisses you, making you rest your head back against the plush pillows. He pulls away a deep rumble of satisfaction leaving his throat. He nuzzles his nose against yours and you finally speak in a small whisper, “mornin’ Leon.” A grin spreads across his face at that, loving hearing your sleepy voice as always. It was like a lull to him, a melody that was as beautiful as your moans. Any sound you make, Leon would rejoice in it. It was magical and enthralling to hear his beloved speak, something that would pull him from the grave and fight wars for.

“I gotta go to work, baby.” He mumbles down to you, an apologetic look on his face. Your pleading eyes meet his and he presses his lips to yours again in a sweet, little kiss. “Don’t leave the house though baby, want you well rested after our night. Understood?” You nod agreeing with his command. It was easy to obey him especially in the sleepy, love struck state you were in. Leon knew best, he was the talk of the town, a police officer and everyone loved him. Leon raises an eyebrow down at your relaxed face, one of his hands move to stroke your cheek, “Words, baby.” He mutters and you nod again, “Understood.” You murmur and Leon’s grin soon returns. He presses one finally kiss to your forehead, nose and the lips before pulling away and getting ready for work.

You watch him as he pulls his boxers on, admiring how well the fabric shapes his ass and how lean and muscular he is. Your eyes scan his back, admiring the long scratches down them which you had left on him. He pulls his black t shirt on and then his pants, he pulls his belt through the loops before tightening them. He turns to you, a smile painted on his lips. He gazes at you, admiring the way your hair is sprawled out on the pillows almost like a halo. Your sleep hazed eyes staring at him, he can’t help but move towards you. He leans down and kisses you again, “My Bambi baby, I promise to take care of you. Just stay home, get familiar with my house. It’ll be yours too one day, you know.” You can’t help the flutter in your chest at his words, all cation thrown to the wind about it being too early. You were in love. And he loved you back. What could be more delightful than that.

That blissful morning was now 5 weeks ago and something had changed, Leon had become a lot more protective and clingy. You now spent nearly all your time at Leon’s only ever returning home on a Sunday. You didn’t know that it was because Leon had gone to your family that blissful morning and offered to step up and be your provider, that and a generous wad of cash presented to them which they eagerly accepted. But Leon would never tell you that, not unless you found out and to which he would fixate on the fact your family had sold you off. That to your family, you had a price tag but to him, you were priceless. He would never give you up or trade you off. You were his.

Not only that, but Leon had also bribed your boss, making sure that he kept a close eye on you and that during your shifts, which had changed from 5 days a week to now 3 days a week, you were only ever to speak to men when necessary. If you were to try and start a conversation up with a man, regardless of who it was, Mr.Wesker would instantly shout your name and demand for your to go back to serving behind the counter even if no one was there. But that was just the tip of the ice berg. Leon had paid quite a few people to keep an eye on you, to ensure you wouldn’t speak to another man and to make sure you were safe.

Soon he had began taking things from your room and integrating them into his house, slowly at first. He didn’t want you frightened off. He took clothes, a few panties and tops and skirts and folded them nicely and tucked them into his dresser beside his clothes. He then began to convince you how much easier it was for you to have your stuff at his house. How accessible for it was for you and you had eagerly agreed with his observation. With that little push you had begun to move your clothes into his dressers. Then he pushed for you to start brining the thins you found comfort in, your books, plushies. And of course, you had done it again. Eagerly following his commands disguised as suggestions.

The main thing that Leon kept secret was when how dirty his job had become. He had started to abuse his duties ever more than ever. Of course he had abused them when he first started pursuing you, checking any and every file he could get his hand on. From school reports to resumes. He had been learning about you since the day he first saw you, and now that he had you he was doing a lot more. Now he had been hunting down any old boyfriends that you had and when it was dark he would either set them up with a life charge by smuggling drugs on to there person. However sometimes, if he had learned that they had kissed you he would adorn a mask and break their legs. No emotions on his face but joy in his heart for punishing those who had dared touched what was his.

He sometimes went even further, hunting down bullies or people who had done you wrong in a minor way and threatening them with ears in prison for ever hurting you or your feelings. If they even dared to stand up to him then he would go after their families, sending letter after letter about the laws that they had ‘broken’ and how they would have to pay or go to court. And every time they would back down. Leon had it all set out in motion.

After every time he had punished someone, he would head home and bury his face into you cunt, lapping happily at your sweet nectar until he would roll a spiked condom on and fuck you mercilessly until he came. He’d always take care of you after, cuddling and cooing happily at you making sure you knew how perfect you were in his eyes. How wonderful it was to even be in your presence.

Whilst Leon was keeping his dark desires a secret, you also held a secret. For the past 2 weeks you had thrown up every morning and your appetite had changed drastically. Leon never noticed the vomiting as he was always fast asleep in the morning, but he had noticed your appetite had changed and he was worried that you had changed your diet or that there was underlying health issues or body issues. He had encouraged you to go to the doctors and you did. Which was yesterday. Now you had the knowledge that you were pregnant. You were in shock, Leon had used protection every time after your first time, there was no way unless…unless the condom broke. You gulp down the anxiety coursing through your veins. How were you gonna bring this up to Leon? You wipe your sweaty palms on the apron that was tied around your waist. You shake your head and focus on the dinner you’re making for you and Leon. You pause and gaze down at the apron tied around your waist, pink and white with frills. Your brows furrow, Leon never owned this. Leon didn’t have anything pink in his house, you tilt your head up and gaze around and see the small things he’d added while you were on autopilot in the honeymoon phase.

You were so blissed out all the time that you didn’t see the golden cage that you were lured into until now and now it was too late. The cage was closed and locked and you had no means of escape. You gulp, how could you let this slip by? And now you had his child inside you, you were truly trapped. You continue to cook around at the pink oven mitts and tea towels, it wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t like he was evil. But it felt sneaky to you, like he’d almost trapped you as a housewife. But what was the worst that could happen? He would never hurt you, he was a provider and your family was directly across the road. It wasn’t so bad, it wasn’t even close to bad. And the more you voiced these thoughts in your head the more you started to shake off his sneaky actions.

Soon enough, You hear Leon park his car I the drive before unlocking the door- wait when did he even lock it? You shake those thoughts away again and listen to him wiping his shoes on the matt. He closes the door before approaching the kitchen smelling your cooking. He leans against the doorway, a frown on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He mutters, his eyes piercing you, demanding an answer. “Tell you what?” You ask confused, you watch as he pushes off the door frame with his shoulder and strolls over to you. His frame towers over you, he reaches a strong hand out and rests it on your stomach. Your eyes go wide as you gaze up at him, “H-how did you know?” You mutter, but Leon’s gaze is firm and cruel. “No, Bambi. My question first. Why didn’t you tell me?” He nearly hisses at you. “I- I just didn’t know how to. I was scared and I’m still wrapping my head around it. We used protection every time and I don’t understand how!” You nearly sob to him.

His demeanour softens his large, rough hands cup your soft cheeks, “Baby, ‘s okay. Sometimes these things happen. I’ll be here, we’ll get through this. But we’re keeping this baby, I’ll provide and protect you.” You sniffle and nod, you couldn’t just get rid of the baby everyone would look down on you and disown you. Leon tilts your head up, “I know it’s a lot baby, that you might not be ready, but I promise we can do this. Okay?” His voice lowers softly until he’s whispering his reassurance to you. Your eye search his for comfort and when you find it in his ocean eyes, you open your mouth and whisper “Okay.”

And just like that, your fate was sealed, you didn’t go back and ask how he knew, but he would have given a well thought out lie that would have calmed your anxiety and worries. In reality he had gone to the doctors today after you didn’t answer him yesterday. He bribed that doctor and got his answer and his dream. The ruined condoms had worked, the very first one had worked. Leon had you under his thumb and now all he had to do was to chain you to him with a simple ring that would link you to him forever and he couldn’t be happier.

He pulls you into his arms, laughing happily, “We’re having a kid Bambi!” He sings down to you joy gleaming in his eyes. He was overjoyed and he couldn’t help but rain kisses down upon you. You giggle at the kisses, he tilts you head up and presses his lips to yours eagerly before pushing your body up onto the kitchen counter, he stands between your legs as he kisses you more desperately. His hands slide up under your dress, pushing the skirt up and pulling your panties down in one quick flash. Your lips stay glued to each other, you can feeling fiddling with the zip of his pants and belts between your legs.

Soon the sound of his pants hitting the ground echoes in the kitchen, and Leon rubs his cock between your folds. He growls at the feeling of your juices coating his cock, he leans forward and you wrap you legs around him. With a push of his hips you both moan, Him at the feeling of your tightness and you at the delicious stretch. He begins to hump into your cunt, his lips pressed against your ears. “Can finally fuck you bare. Nothing hiding your perfect little pussy from me any more. Can you feel my cock, yeah? ‘S fucking perfect baby.” You whine and he fucks you harder, the tip of his cock bullying your g spot. You nuzzle your head into his neck crying with pleasure. He smirks before he groans feeling you tighten, “Already gonna cum on my cock you slut? Just desperate for my cock ain’t ya?” You nod desperately to him before you cum. You thighs shake and you whimper biting at his neck. Leon humps pathetically into you before he lets out a whimper of his own and cums deep into you. “So good baby, so good,” He whispers.

This was the perfect life to him something which he had scraped tooth and claw for planning. Finding the perfect girl that would fit him, his need, his life, his soul. He’ll never forget the day he saw you across the road, dressed in your cute little shorts and vest and bunny slippers too early in the morning. And he knew, that he was going to have you. So he would slowly start his plan, mowing his garden shirtless, watching your window inconspicuously waiting for your eyes to peek out and see him. And when you finally did he set his plan into action. And now you were to have his child and marry him. What a perfect dream. The white picket fence and you would never have to worry about money or love, anything. All you had to do was be his good little wife and who were you to deny one of the most beloved men in town.

You were settled in now, this was your life. You were pregnant with his baby and his house was now fully redecorated to fit both your tastes. The spare bedroom filled with baby things and Leon was working hard in the nursery. A lovely ring was in your finger and life seemed easy, calm. You were finally happy in your golden cage even if you didn’t know the truth of the bars that trapped you in forever. And you would forever remain blissfully unaware. Leon made sure of it.

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 5 months

Text

heartbeat (thorin oakenshield x female!modern! reader)

gif by me!!

desc. - reader puts her CPR lessons to good use when thorin's on the brink of death. (inspired by an imagine by @imaginexhobbit but make it sad🫶 also i listened to "farewell to dobby" while reading this, it adds so muchhh)

warnings - angst 💔

word count - 2.7k

For most of the time you’d been traveling with Thorin and his merry band of warriors, you could only account a few times you provided yourself useful to the group. Bofur was a whittler and toy maker, Oin a healer, Ori a scribe. Thorin and his sister-sons, the rightful heir to a kingdom. Even Bilbo had squeezed his way into a position of burglary, though he was hardly fit, and was still fighting to prove himself.

You?

A few stories around the campfire. Some questions answered about where you’d appeared from out of nowhere in particular. Mouth watering modern food recipes you babbled on about, over rabbit stew Bombur happily served on the cold nights on the road. And sure, you were getting good with a sword, but not nearly as skillful as the fearless fighter Dwalin.

You could see the malevolence and distaste in Thorin’s eyes when Gandalf decided for himself that you would make a fine addition to the group. After all, some otherworldly stranger happening upon them just as their fateful quest began was no coincidence. To him it meant something. But to the leader of the group? Danger? Deadweight? You couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it settled behind his cold, steel-blue eyes and swelled whenever he watched you fail miserably at every task given.

You simply weren’t built for a world like this.

Thorin didn’t hate you. He wasn’t necessarily fond of you either. And how you longed to fit in, impress him maybe. Break past whatever tough exterior that he used to keep a distance between the two of you. Pushing too much would surely annoy him, so you opted to keep to yourself, sitting back and placing yourself near Gandalf and the witty Bilbo Baggins, who seemed to have walked a few miles in your own shoes. If he could wear them, that is. Hoping maybe one day the King under the mountain would come around. Maybe.

But now, soaring over the horizon of a morning sun and above the towering mountains, on the feathered back of a massive bird, Bilbo had proven himself in his bravery, and you were alone and useless in your skills.

You were seated atop the same eagle as the halfling, right behind another that carried Thorin’s limp body in its talons, wind and the worried cries of his nephews rushing through your hair and past your ears. Azog’s fight was not an easy one. Not that you could do much anyways, dangling uselessly from a blazing pine tree and fingers slipping from its scorching branches. But Thorin, ever the brave, was taken down quickly.

Thank the lord for Gandalf’s endless alliances.

Now, the eagles circled a plateau, oddly sticking out from above high treetops like a sore thumb, and began to descend to its slanted surface where each member of the company jumped off. Some destination this was, hundreds of feet off the ground. You’d think they might find a safer spot to land this band of underground dwelling travelers but beggars can’t be choosers. At least you were out of harm's way for the time being. The eagle you and Bilbo rode flew low enough for you to hop off and land safely on the cliff’s surface, then turn and see Thorin, unconscious and unmoving, set down gently in front of the rest of the group.

They all crowded around him, shouting and shaking his body vigorously, but to no avail. Your stomach dropped when you heard one of them mutter a word that sounded like “dead”.

You rushed over, just getting a few glimpses of his face from behind the heads of thick hair and heavy fur coats circling him like vultures, Bilbo at your heels and following in curiosity.

“He’s not breathing!”

“Thorin! Thorin, wake up!” A hand tapped on the side of his face.

You immediately began shouting to clear some room. The sea of worried dwarves parted for you, just enough room to sling your haversack off your shoulders and lean down on your knees, bringing an ear to his mouth. They were right. Not a breath to be heard. Nor a pulse, you discovered, after placing your fingers to the side of his cold neck.

“No…no no, no.”

The company shared confused mutters and looks, worry lines still etched like canyons in their faces as they watched you clamor to unclasp his thick cloak and pull away as much clothing as you could from his chest.

Now, you were no doctor. Not even a medical student for that matter. Just barely scraping by with an art degree and two, low paying part-time jobs back home. Wherever that was. But, thankfully, those required CPR lessons back in junior high suddenly came rushing back to you, and you were gonna put to the best use you could.

You locked your elbows, flattened your palms, and then hastily pressed against the brute of his firm chest. Mahal, it was stubborn, and the armored shirt between your hands and his heart was no help, but acting quickly spared no time for shedding any more of his clothes. Again and again you pressed, one, two, just how the instructor taught you with her quick tongue and loud voice.

“An even pace! You’re going to lose him!”

The recall made your head spin, especially considering it might have been a bit comedic at the time, trying to revive an armless mannequin on the tile floor of your classroom. But under the steady pressure of your palms was a real person, teetering on the edge of life and death.

Gandalf landed somewhere behind you, being the last to touch ground, but he was forgotten in the sea of deep voices asking what you could possibly be doing.

By the 16th compression, you were beginning to break a sweat. Twenty, twenty one…

“Lass… what are ya’ doing?” Bofur's voice, usually friendly and jovial, was a low and cowering one. His question left the rest of the group quiet. You heard, but you didn’t answer. That would be for later when this was over. Preferably with a happy ending.

Thirty.

You moved to pinch Thorin's nose shut, tilting his head just slightly off the ground with the other hand tangled in his hair and breathed into his open mouth.

Any and all bewildered muttering was lost on the focus you had, to watch for any movement in his relaxed face.

You breathed again, and then bent over to listen. Nothing.

Now things began to get more grave than you’d taken them before.

You moved back to begin compressions again, this time pressing harder and deeper against his heart. You lifted a forearm to wipe the sweat gathering on your brow.

In your class, you were supposed to take turns, and rotate when one got tired so they could properly compress. But this wasn’t class.

Thorin was beneath the weight of your hands and his face was losing color.

“Come on… come on Thorin.”

You lost count after the 19th shove downwards, adrenaline kicking in and tears blurring the corners of your eyes as Thorin convulsed.

A warm hand settled on your shoulder above.

“Lass… he-” you smacked it away, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach like fire that you spat out.

“No! No he’s not, n-not yet.”

Again, you breathed into his airway, heavy and even, like you were supposed to. You were doing everything right. So why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he breathing?

This was the quietest you had ever heard the company. Only birds and the sound of your exhausted, heaving breaths and choking sobs floating in the cool morning air.

You moved back to compressions, starting again, one, two, three. You were begging him, hysterically pleading his unresponsive body to kick start back up.

“Please Thorin. Come on.”

Now tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, warm and bothersome and blinding, falling over your hands and his clothes. Your arms ached at the now desperate shoving against his heart. You looked pathetic, like a widow begging for scraps of Thorin’s lifeline, something to get him through. The ground dug harshly into your knees, bruising and irritating them through the pants as they dully scraped with each movement.

Twenty two.

You were slowing down, growing weary and tired from the work. But it wasn’t good enough. At this point, with the silent stares, you knew that even the ever stubborn dwarves had lost hope for their leader some time ago. And you had too, but now you were already getting past the twenty-fifth press down. Curse the lot of them, just staring down at you with pity as you sniffed and wiped the snot and tears from your face. And curse the beauty of the morning sun peaking over the mountains, so regal and beautiful, and staring down at the morose show of a sad little human weeping to herself.

“Please… please, God you idiot. Running down there like that.”

A cry frogged its way out of the back of your throat, raspy and gurgling. You lift his head for the third time, sniffed in and then pushed your shaking breath as hard as you could manage, pulled away, then back down to press your quivering lips upon his cold ones and-

A breath. Soft and faint, just barely there, and it slightly cooled the tears on your face.

You froze, staring down at Thorin to see his eyes twitch just slightly underneath their lids. Another exhale fled him, his time much more apparent, and his brows furrowed as he stirred awake. The gasps and shouts from the company, scrambling over and circling him like they did before to help him up as he came to.

“He’s alive!”

“A miracle! Bless the Valor!”

You lifted yourself from the ground, onto your feet, but the shock of your attempts actually working, and exhaustion, just left you to stumble backwards onto your butt, crying harder than before, in relief and joy, nonetheless sobbing like your life depended on it. You gave into the fatigue of your muscles, the tiredness from the adrenaline, and exhaustion from your sobs, and fell onto your back, covering your eyes with a forearm with the other limply laying on the ground next to you. Bilbo kneeled next to you and laid his small hand over yours, watching as the king was pulled to his feet and grimacing at the noises of his jovial party celebrating with shouting and laughing.

“You did it,” The burglar said quietly, just enough for you to hear. It wasn’t just amazement in his voice, but reassurance. Something to ground you, like the warm squeeze of his hand.

You trembled, breaths coming in and out with a shiver.

Thorin’s dazed when you slowly sit up off the ground to look at him, swaying about and being jostled as each excited dwarf embraced and jumped around him, and an arm shouldered over Kìli’s to keep his balance.

“You were dead.” Dwalin’s normally stony, hard-set face, was graced with the most horrified look you’d ever seen in your life, eyes widened and brows twisted upwards in awe. That seemed to settle everyone down enough, and shake Thorin from the rest of his stupor. Once again, the world around you was blessed with silence that you hadn’t gotten a taste of since you arrived. It was short lived.

“Dead?” Thorin asked, incredulous and confused.

“Ye’ weren’t breathing lad!” Gloin chimed in, “we thought you were gone!”

The king’s eyes narrow, and shift between the members of his party, blinking away a head rush.

“How is that possible?” The second set of words he’d spoken since he screamed Azog’s name. Thorin’s voice was low and rasping. He slowly turned, following the astounded, wide-eyed stares from the surrounding dwarves, boring into you like you were some God.

You sniffled, wiping at your reddened, runny nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

He lifted a jeweled hand to graze over his heart, where you were reviving him, just staring at the sad sight of your tearful eyes.

“She saved ya’, Thorin,” Balin’s voice is serious and somber, breaking the silence, “Brough’ ya’ back from near death. Mahal knows how.”

Thorin’s eyes grew sharp, brows furrowing and piercing into you, where you pulled yourself to sit on your knees. His fingers tightened around the cloth where his hand laid, clutching at his chest.

“You,” he gruffed, “You did this?”

“I-I… I didn’t know if it was gonna work.” Your throat tightened and squeezed. Great, even more tears flowed down your face. Thorin’s eyes held the same glint that made your stomach twist with embarrassment and shame. The least he could do is offer a nod of gratitude towards you. Instead, he tore free from the group, ripping his arm away off his nephew’s shoulder and stumbling towards you like a drunken fool, with thudding footsteps.

Dwalin calls after him uselessly, just hanging back and letting the scene play out.

When he stops in front of you, eyes firey and broad chest heaving breaths in and out, standing a few inches over where you’re knelt, all you can do is try not to look away. You’re glad you hadn’t.

A boa-tight grip took hold of your heart and tightened when you saw his features soften, worry lines and crow's feet disappearing in the appearance of a small, incredulous smile. His softened eyes lined themselves with the hint of tears catching like jewels in the morning sun. Thorin dropped down to his knees to meet your height in a hug that you could never have prepared yourself for. You freeze for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Thorin, fearless, merciless, King Under the Mountain was hugging, no, embracing you, with the force of a thousand winds and strength of ten thousand men, because he was alive, thanks to you. And you hugged him back, pulling closer than you already were, and grasping at the back of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. The dwarves cheered in excitement behind Thorin. Through the yelling and praise, you can hear Thorin’s low voice next to your ear.

“I cannot repay this deed. Thank you.”

You pull away to see the kindest, warmest smile your eyes had ever been blessed to lay upon. It knocked the breath from your lungs. The corners of his eyes and the arch of his nose wrinkled upwards. It suited his face much more than the cold and stoic stares he was prone to.

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” Was all you could huff out.

“Yet I did. I misunderstood you greatly.” Thorin wiped a tear from the side of your face, “You make a member of this group. My life is indebted to you. And you,”

He peered over your shoulder at a wide-eyed Bilbo Baggins, standing just past your shoulder. You helped him stand from the ground, arm linked in his to meet the hobbit.

“You nearly got yourself killed,” he slipped free from your arm, and started toward Bilbo, just as he did you. “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?”

Your face fell, akin to Bilbo’s solemn look. He stood there, taking the string of insults like a punching bag.

“That you had no place amongst us?”

And then he pulled the hobbit in just as he did you.

“I have never been so wrong, in all my life.”

Your heart reeled, and this time you smiled along with the rest of the company’s rejoices, watching the surprised grin spread across Bilbo’s face. Thorin pulled away.

“I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, no. I would have doubted me, too.”

A hand planted itself on your shoulder, and you turned to look at Gandalf and his sagely smile.

“You’ve made yourself quite the home in these dwarves' hearts, young lady,” he said. It was comedic, the way his silvery hair and beard dramatically blew in the wind, “Perhaps once this has settled, you stay with them. I think you’d find yourself more than welcome in Erebor’s Halls.”

You hummed in thought. The band of travelers were gathered on the edge of the plateau, looking out in the distance towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, calling their name through the mist.

Thorin turned back to look at you over his shoulder with a gentle smile, and nodded his head to you in a silent thanks. The ghost of a blush spread across his face.

“I just might.”

(aaaaaah! what did you guys think??? :3 it feels wonderful to get a full fic out after so long, ive had this idea in my head for dayyys ugh 💔 please send me some requests loves, i'm in desperate need of some comfort fics! don't forget to reblog and like!! love yas! 🩷🌺🌸🌷💝💞)

tag list : @kumqu4t @tolkien-fantasy @blueberryrock @to-be-frank-i-dont-care @luna-xial @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @pistachiozombie @imaginexhobbit @beenovel

#thorin oakenshield #xreader #thorin oakenshield x reader #peter jackson #thorins company #the hobbit #thorin x reader #the hobbit x reader #angst #happy ending #yayyy #i need thorin #tolkien #modern! reader

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cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

Basic Training XVI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You knelt beside Peter with your hands in your lap, staring down at them as the conversation flowed around you. While you’d never had much to contribute to the conversation before, you still felt awful about being purposely excluded. Even more so because your humiliation was on full display for the whole house to see.

“It’s disappointing to see another empty chair at the table.”

Steve’s voice wasn’t very loud amongst the other low conversations, but it carried, nonetheless. You didn’t need to look up to know that his gaze was on you. You could feel it. It was then that you felt a gentle touch on the top of your head, fingers trailing down to rest just under your chin.

“Yeah,” you heard Peter sigh. “…but she knows what she’s being punished for.”

You did.

The night you told Peter that Nat had mentioned a pregnancy scare, he hadn’t said much to you for the rest of the evening. You could count the number of times Peter had been really mad with you, and his visible anger hadn’t done much for your sleep. You hadn’t been able to deny the pang in your chest when he laid down for bed without sparing you a glance.

You had almost wished you could take it back.

…but if it would prevent Nat from being on the end of whatever punishment Bucky saw fit for her, then you would accept however Peter retaliated. You weren’t being tied to some tree nor walking around with some collar on your neck, but it was no less embarrassing to sit at Peter’s feet on your knees while the rest of the household ate dinner.

Occasionally, Peter’s hand would come down to give you something to eat, and with starving as the only other option, you had no choice but to open your mouth and accept.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” he’d said just hours earlier, gazing at you with a small shake of his head. “…and to think this is something you knew before she even left. What if she was pregnant and has lost the baby? Do you have any idea what that will do to Bucky?”

You hadn’t had the heart nor courage to tell Peter that you didn’t care about Bucky. You didn’t care about him, at all. Your priority had been Nat and keeping quiet on something she herself hadn’t even known what to do with. That was then though, and while your first priority was still Nat, now you only wanted her out of harm’s way in whatever way you could achieve that. Even if it meant disappointing Peter and making Bucky aware of her possible delicate condition.

You knew that with Steve over his shoulder, Bucky was liable to do unspeakable harm to Nat. It didn’t matter that he’d grown up with her and therefore shared a deeper history than any other couple in the house. In fact, you’d wager that those circumstances only made him angrier, made him feel more betrayed. You didn’t count on Bucky being fair, on the punishment fitting the crime. The dark-haired man was angry and hurt—something you’d never understand—and he seemed the type to take it out on her.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sight of a fork in front of your face, and lock clockwork, you leaned in to eat what Peter offered. Your embarrassment lessened as you thought of the humiliating things the other wives probably had to go through. One incident stood out amongst the rest, and as you glanced up, your eyes met a familiar brown pair. She threw you a brief sympathetic look, something in her eyes telling you that it was okay, and you looked back down.

You tried to remind yourself that if your husband had been literally anyone else, you’d be dealing with far worse. Even Thor—who seemed a gentle giant most times—had forced Jane to hang the clothes to dry while completely naked once. At least, that was what Jane had said, and despite how long ago it was, you’d been able to see that she was still hurt about it. You wondered if that contributed to how “well behaved” she was for the blond. You wondered if she just didn’t want to experience that hurt again, and that was something you could understand.

When dinner was over, instead of following behind the rest of the men, Peter remained seated. You could feel his gaze on you, and you kept your own on your lap as you heard him stand. He stood there for what felt like a long time while the other women cleared the table. When the both of you were alone again, he quietly told you to stand and follow him.

Peter hadn’t said all that much to you since that day, and you didn’t know what you were walking into.

You kept your gaze on the back of his head while you followed him, tracing the brown strands with your eyes. There was a part of you that could acknowledge Peter’s disappointment, even understand the twisted logic in some sick way, but another part of you didn’t feel bad, at all. Whether or not Nat was pregnant was not something Peter needed to know. It simply wasn’t for him to know. It hadn’t even been for you to know until Nat decided it so, and it equally hadn’t been for you to tell.

…and you weren’t…until Steve and Bucky were itching to hurt her in ways she just didn’t deserve.

Even now, you wondered if you did the right thing. Only time would really tell, but you felt so…helpless. That night, you’d felt helpless, but it was a different kind of helpless. It was a helplessness that came about of your own accord. You could have very well told Peter you saw her. You could have even ran downstairs yourself to go after her, but you hadn’t. You’d remained quiet, and the opportunity to do anything to help or hinder the situation had passed you by.

You had left the fate of everyone in the house—including you—in her hands. Your future had depended on whether or not Nat was caught or not, both yours and Peters. You felt like something of a coward to leave that in Nat’s hands. Although, you guessed that your decision had been made when you simply…let her go.

You were frowning when Peter spoke to you again.

“You do understand why you’re being punished…don’t you…?”

You licked your lips, starting to nod before thinking better of it, remembering that Peter preferred you use your voice.

“Yes,” you told him.

“Tell me,” Peter urged, sitting down on the bed.

Your eyes met his, and like they had been for days, they gleamed with a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

“It’s important that Bucky knows everything pertaining to Nat’s health…and I helped her hide that from him.”

You repeated the words he’d said to you even though you didn’t quite believe them yourself.

Peter reached for you with a small sigh, and you slowly reached for his hand in return, moving closer. When his fingers threaded with yours, he pulled you to stand in between his knees, taking your other hand too. He looked at you with a look you couldn’t name, pink lips pressed together as he studied your face.

“If you were pregnant…surely you’d understand why I’d need to know that,” he continued before you could say anything. “Even if you just thought you were pregnant…that’s important, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“Now…now I have to find a way to bring this up to him. I did make a promise, after all,” he said to you, reminding you of your plea not to tell Bucky you told him.

Peter pulled on your hands, forcing you to sit in his lap. One of his hands came to rest on your waist, and you held his gaze as he kneaded his hand into your side.

“…and you wouldn’t want me to break my promise…would you?”

Peter tilted his head at that, and you shakily shook your head.

If Bucky knew you knew…you shuddered to think of what would happen. Peter reached up to cup your face, gently brushing his thumb over your skin. It disgusted you to think that not even thirty minutes ago, he had you kneeling at his side and eating whatever he fed you like a dog…and now… Now, you were sitting in his lap, reaching up to cover his own hand as it rested on your face.

Was this how any of the others felt?

Did Margaret feel that conflicted mix of anger and sadness and admiration whenever she gazed at Steve? Did she remember the ways in which he’d humiliate her as he kissed her? Did Pepper think of Tony leading her around the house like a pet when he smiled at her? You wondered what Laura thought about when Clint hugged her and if it was that time she was forced to keep him warm in her mouth at the dinner table?

“I was very proud of you tonight,” Peter eventually told you. “You were so well behaved and did exactly as I told you.”

Peter pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering there.

“Only four more days to go.”

You were outside in the garden when you first saw it.

Laura and Jane were planting some garlic with you when you saw Steve and Bucky talking and walking around the house. They were coming from the front yard, presumably from work seeing as they were still in their uniforms, and Steve had it in his hand. A whip—long and braided and dark brown. By the looks of it, you could tell it was real leather, and even in Steve’s grasp, it looked big…and torturous.

The sight of it made your stomach turn, and you had the brief thought that you were going to be sick…until you actually were sick.

“Oh my God!”

Both Laura and Jane’s voices caught their attention, and the poor garlic bulbs you’d had every intention of planting were suddenly covered in what you ate that morning. Your legs were unsteady as both women hurried to pull you to your feet. Both men were nearing you, something crossing their faces that looked oddly like concern.

It was strange.

You’d seen something like that on Bucky’s face before, notably that night when you ran into him outside the basement door. There was a hurt and crestfallen look there that told you as mad as he was at Nat, something in him hated the idea of punishing her more. Steve, however… You had never seen anything remotely resembling unease before, and it was then that you were reminded of something Peter had said to you once.

“You’re family, Y/N,” Peter had whispered one night. “Steve may be hard on you, and it may seem like he’s out to get you, but he just wants you to fall in line and be part of the family.”

Laura was wiping your mouth with a napkin she kept in her apron.

“Are you alright? Did you eat something bad?”

No.

You didn’t know how to tell her that the sight of that whip in Steve’s hand—the whip that was still in Steve’s hand—had disturbed you so badly you couldn’t even keep your food down. You could feel pressure behind your eyes, a burning sensation, and you wanted to scream. On top of throwing up on yourself like some child, you were now on the verge of crying too.

“Y/N…”

You weren’t on the verge of anything. You were crying…and badly too. You couldn’t stop shaking, covering your face with your hands as you fought to keep standing. Laura’s hands were on you as she guided you into the house, and your knees buckled. You would have collapsed if it weren’t for familiar arms catching you, and you clung to him instantly.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N,” he softly urged, one hand on your head and the other on the small of your back. “What happened?”

He was addressing someone else, now, and you didn’t hear what they told him. You only shook your head, unable to get the words out. You wanted to be sick again, and you pressed a hand to your mouth. Peter took that as a sign, hurrying to get you up the stairs.

He softly called your name again as soon as you made it into the room, and you finally did collapse.

“Is that what he’s going to do to her?” you asked him, tearfully looking up at Peter as he looked down at you in confusion. “Whip her?”

Realization bled into Peter’s eyes, and you watched his shoulders fall.

“Like…like some animal that needs to be broken into submission? …and for what? Because she ran?”

You swallowed down something else that threatened to come up, and Peter knelt down with you. You were fighting to keep it together, but your chest felt so tight, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The mere thought of Nat being on the other end of that almost made you sick again, and the room spun just a bit.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Peter cooed, wrapping his arms around you and leaning you back into him.

You descended into another fit of sobs, turning your face into Peter’s shoulder, and he rocked you. You reached up to grip the arm around your chest, holding onto him. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but what else could you possibly say that would stop this?

“Did you talk to Bucky…?” you finally choked out.

You both felt and heard Peter sigh.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Look…Y/N…”

Peter paused, rubbing your arm and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know you want to protect Nat…want to stop this from happening to her, but she did a bad thing.”

You started to shake your head, but Peter continued.

“She has to be punished, made an example of. Hell…we still need to figure out how she escaped.”

Those words gave you pause, and you swallowed.

“She won’t say a thing about how she got out of the house with any of us none the wiser. How she snuck past all of us, Bucky especially,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “She could do it again. Any of you could try to imitate her…and we can’t have that.”

Peter pulled away a bit, looking at you as you looked at him.

“I would lose my mind if you escaped,” he told you. “…and I mean that.”

He took your face into his hands.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me…all I’ve done to keep you by my side,” he gently said. “All I would do to have you again if you ever did what she did.”

You believed him.

You didn’t doubt him for a moment, and that in itself didn’t scare you. It was the fact that you didn’t see yourself ever doing what Nat did, never even trying, and that thought was equally imprisoning as it was freeing.

You stared into the darkness with your arms wrapped around your knees. The stair beneath your bottom didn’t even feel that hard to you anymore, long growing numb to the feel. It was so hard to sleep lately, so tonight you’d just given up. Even with Peter at your side, you hadn’t been able to find lethargic bliss, too plagued with thoughts of Nat.

The memory of that whip in Steve’s hand made you grow so cold, like something was being sucked out of you. You had imagined the worst for her, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. As much as Bucky scared you, you couldn’t really picture him doing that to her. Even for him, it seemed wrong, but then again, it was hard to tell what Bucky was actually feeling and what he wanted.

He kidnapped the girl he grew up with and he was the one to feel betrayed when she ran.

You wondered if a day would come where you’d sleep soundly again. Maybe when you knew for sure that Nat was going to be okay? You wondered if you’d even fret this much if you hadn’t seen her that night. You liked to think that you would, but you couldn’t deny that your guilt and fear over the whole situation played a huge part.

Rubbing your forehead, you pushed yourself to your feet.

When you turned around, the imposing figure at the top of the stairs almost made you fall back. You let out a gasp, taking a stumbling step back and almost falling in the process. The sound of your heartbeat was loud in your ear, and even before he turned the light on, you knew who it was.

Steve was as scary as he always was, but even more so now with the memory of him holding the whip that was most likely intended for Nat. It was crazy to think that even in the middle of the night, a time of day that should be for the most relaxed version of oneself, he still looked like a strict leader just itching to hand out a punishment.

“You should be in bed.”

You swallowed as he looked down his nose at you, lips trembling.

“I…I couldn’t sleep. I have trouble sleeping, sometimes,” you forced out, truthful.

The blond didn’t reply right away at that, simply raising an eyebrow at you as he studied you.

“Is that so…”

It came out more like a statement than a question, and you frowned.

“Since when?” he wondered, and you realized this was probably the longest you’d ever talked to Steve and definitely one on one.

“Since…since I got here, I guess,” you whispered with a frown.

He sniffed, looking past you for a few moments before meeting your eyes again. They narrowed at you, and for the life of you, you couldn’t place the look in them.

“You spend most of your nights awake? Sitting on the stairs? Hmm?”

“No,” you hurried to say. “No, this is a first. I guess I didn’t want to wake up Peter.”

There was a brief pause, and the silence was so loud.

“Is that okay…?”

You tried to keep your voice even, but you supposed you couldn’t cover the mocking tone well. It was hard to keep up with what was allowed with Steve, and it wasn’t like the other night when you were trying to bring Nat some food. You’d just been sitting on the stairs. What rule was there against that?

Steve stared at you for what felt like a long time before suddenly throwing you a tense smile. It looked fake, plastic even.

“Of course,” he almost sang as if it were obvious. “You’re family, now, and this is your house too.”

His tone, like yours had been, sounded almost mocking, and you didn’t like it. Unable to continue engaging in conversation with the blond without wanting to hurl, you moved to make your way back to your room. Steve’s gaze remained on you the entire time, and it was only when you were past him did he speak again.

“I never realized what a night owl you were…”

You slowed to a pause, looking over your shoulder at him, but his back was still to you as he stared ahead.

“You probably see all sorts of things from your perch.”

Your chest grew tight at that, and you stumbled back to your room without another response.

Peter seemed to reach for you on autopilot, pulling you into his arms and holding you close even in his sleep. You held onto him too, tears kissing your eyes as you forced your heart to stop racing. You pressed your face into his chest, thoughts going a mile a minute.

You hadn’t liked Steve’s words nor his tone, and you wondered…

Did he know? He couldn’t know, but his dubious tone and hidden meanings in his words couldn’t mean anything else. Unless he only suspected, and even then, that did little to reassure you. You weren’t good with lies, poker faces. As it were, it was taking everything in you to keep lying to Peter, and the way you felt about Peter was nothing at all how you felt about Steve.

It was taking all you had to lie to the man whose face you looked forward to seeing every day. You couldn’t even pretend to imagine you’d be good at lying to Steve. The thought made you sit up some, gazing at Peter’s face as he slept. You thought about your conversation earlier and what he’d done for you, the feeling in your chest when he told you he’d talked to Bucky.

“I just mentioned to him he might want to have Bruce come and look over her first before…”

He had trailed off after answering you when you asked him what he told him, quieting at the look on your face at the reminder of what was in store for her.

“They’ve been trying, you know, and I just reminded Bucky that he’d never forgive himself if he did anything that could take away something he didn’t even know he had.”

Your worry hadn’t disappeared completely, but it had definitely lessened, causing you to hug Peter. He had hugged you back, but you’d been more concerned with pressing kisses to his face. Even if Nat turned out to not be pregnant, it would put off her punishment for a bit at the least.

Sometimes you wondered why Peter did anything for you. You supposed it was equally for his benefit, to make you more susceptible to him, and you couldn’t deny that there was merit to it. Did it really matter the reasons behind anything he did to make you happy? As long as it made you happy, right…?

You leaned over, pressing your lips to his cheek, silently thanking him. You grazed your fingers over his own, listening to the sound of his breathing, and you kissed his cheek again before sliding out of bed. You moved to stand at the window, feeling very reminiscent of that night as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

You knew that you needed to get up early, and that you’d probably regret having such a late night in the morning, but you saw no value in trying to force something that would not come. Like the night Nat ran, you stared out of the window, looking over the yard...

…and just like that night, movement caught your eye.

The figure was unmistakable, his hands on his hips as he stood in the backyard, gazing around. You didn’t know why he was out there, especially at this time of night, and you frowned as you watched him. The sight of Steve would always serve to do the opposite of calming you down, so you were just about to turn away when he suddenly turned instead. Steve’s eyes met yours from so far below, and you could tell by the look on his face that he could see you.

You could also tell by the look on his face…that this did not surprise him.

His expression was even as he stared up at you, and you blinked, a slow frown forming between your brows. You didn’t understand why he was out there nor why he was preoccupied with looking up at your window, but the longer he stared, the more he seemed to find whatever he was looking for, frowning at you before you made the choice to turn away completely.

The next morning was as normal as any other.

For some reason, you hadn’t expected that. It had taken you forever to fall asleep, doubly so when coupled with the memory of Steve staring you down both on the stairs and through the window. You helped Margaret make Egg’s Benedict before getting started on a key lime pie she wanted to have ready by dinnertime. She brought little Sarah around for a bit, something you were grateful for.

“I know what they think,” she whispered as you shook the girl’s hand playfully. “What they say…”

You glanced up at her at that, and she sent you a sad smile.

“You would never hurt any of them,” she assured you. “You just need more time to adjust, that’s all.”

Knowing that Margaret trusted you around her child despite what Steve thought made your chest feel warm, and you thanked her. You often wondered about your own future child, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t worry for them. After all, if Steve and the others were worried about you around the other children, what could you possibly expect with your own?

You helped Christine in the garden, feeling much better than the other day. You felt that had more to do with the lack of a whip in your line of sight than anything. Peter was gone most of the day, at work, and when he finally returned home, it was almost time for dinner.

“What were you two planting? You smell wonderful,” Peter mused, watching you as you helped him undress.

“Sweet Pea,” you replied, unhooking his belt. “Pepper wanted some on the side of the house.”

You felt Peter press his face to your hair, deeply inhaling with a hum that fell over you like a warm blanket. When Peter kissed you, you were unsurprised when it didn’t remain just that, allowing him to pull you into the bathtub with him. Much wasn’t said between you, more preoccupied with the feel of his lips on yours and his hands on your waist.

It was a wonder neither of you were late to the dinner table.

Despite your interactions with Steve the previous night, dinner remained unproblematic. In fact, the blond was much more concerned with his wife whose forehead he kept touching. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know what you’d expected. Perhaps your disastrous birthday was still fresh in your mind, no stranger to Steve’s lack of reluctance to cause a scene.

You left dinner without a care, and you managed to go to bed without a care.

It was late in the night, however, when the horror you expected finally arrived.

It was the sound of yelling that disturbed you, the height of sound something you’d only heard the morning Nat went missing. You remained in bed in confusion—and slight annoyance—as you blearily stared at the ceiling. Sleep was still just within reach, and despite the disturbance, you were determined to find it once again.

That wasn’t possible though.

“Let me talk to her!”

It was Peter’s voice, the sound of it making your eyes fly open. You slowly sat up, never knowing Peter for one to raise his voice under any circumstances. There were a lot of voices mingling together from below, and they all quickly drowned his out. You slowly blinked as you stared at the door…

…and an uneasy feeling started to stir deep in your gut.

It only just occurred to you that if he was downstairs, then he wasn’t asleep next to you. You reached over and slid your hand along his side of the bed. It was cool to the touch, telling you he’d been gone for quite some time, and your frown deepened. What was going on?

Just as you thought that, you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and you stared at the door in dread. They were nearing your room, the sound of them echoing in the hallway, and for some reason, you expected Steve’s imposing frame to be on the other side of the door. It wasn’t, but you still felt no relief at the familiar sight of Peter.

You rubbed your eye as your gaze met his, the dark-haired man standing in the doorway.

“Peter…”

It was hard to pinpoint the look on his face, only that it was strained and pinched. You watched the way his jaw ticked, chest heaving slightly, and when your gaze lowered, it landed on his tightening grip on the doorknob. You said his name again, growing even more nervous the longer he didn’t speak.

“Peter.”

That wasn’t your voice.

Your lips parted at the sound of Steve’s stern voice coming from over Peter’s shoulder, and you guessed that he was somewhere in between the door and the stairs, somewhere in the hallway where you couldn’t see him. At the sound of the other man’s voice, Peter seemed to visibly tense. He stood there for a few more seconds before finally stepping into the room.

“Peter, what…?”

“It’s okay,” he whispered to you although you felt like it was absolutely not okay. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He took your hand, threading your fingers together.

“I just…I need you to come downstairs.”

His voice was so low, and despite the confusion you felt as you gazed into his eyes, you allowed him to lead you out of bed. You surmised that Steve went back downstairs because he was nowhere to be found when you followed Peter into the hallway.

Every step of yours felt heavy, and you didn’t miss the tight hold Peter had on your hand as he gently pulled you downstairs. You had no inkling of where you were even going, but you were shocked to realize that he was leading you towards the den. However, the biggest shock of all was the sight that met you.

You faltered as your eyes roamed over every single one of the husbands.

“Peter…”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you by the feel of his hand gently squeezing yours.

You didn’t understand what was going on, and as you looked around, you almost wished you hadn’t. None of them looked happy, and while that in itself wasn’t alarming, it was the degree of unhappiness that unsettled you. Your gaze briefly met Bucky’s, and you suspected that if looks could kill, your throat would have slit on sight.

You took a step behind Peter.

“I always knew that your methods would backfire one day, Peter.”

Your eyes landed on Steve as he said this, and you watched the blond pour himself a drink. Thor was sitting in the seat closest to him, and you felt grateful for that because you were sure that the sight of an angry and imposing Thor towering over you would have made you faint.

You glanced at Peter, face almost hurting now from how much you were frowning.

“Peter, what’s going on?” you whispered.

“Yeah, Peter,” Steve mockingly agreed. “What’s going on?”

You looked between them, that feeling a full-fledged impairment, now as you almost felt like you couldn’t move.

“Ask her, Peter.”

Steve’s voice had lowered, his tone cold when his blue gaze finally met yours.

“Ask her, right now.”

You wanted to run for some reason, get far away from here…but you couldn’t. Peter seemed to be hesitating about whatever he was supposed to be asking you, and Bucky beat him to it.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

The question shocked you both for how unexpected it was and also because it wasn’t true. You felt your lips part as you looked at Bucky, withering under his venomous stare.

“What?” you gasped. “N-No!”

You looked around, a painful feeling washing over you as you realized what all of this was about.

“No, I-.”

“I don’t believe you,” you hadn’t even been able to get the words out, interrupted by Bucky who charged towards you. “I don’t fucking believe you.”

You stumbled back per courtesy of Peter who forced you back with a hand on your waist. Your hand gripped his arm in fear as you looked around him, watching with wide eyes as he faced Bucky. The other man looked at you like he could kill you without thinking twice about it, and you supposed that he could. He’d done it to Wanda, after all.

You hadn’t realized that you’d started crying, your cheeks cold all of a sudden.

“Bucky.”

“She helped her, Peter. I know she did!” Bucky spat, pointing at you as you shook your head.

“No! I didn’t-! Peter,” you pleaded, looking at him, now. “I didn’t!”

Your voice was cracking, and you hoped they didn’t take that for an admission of guilt or something. You hadn’t helped Nat escape, but you knew that to them, the truth might as well be the same, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“Remind us again, Peter… Repeat to us the events of that night for you,” Steve finally spoke up again, his voice eerily calm as he looked at you both.

His words had you blinking, and you looked to Peter in confusion. He looked conflicted, almost miserable, in fact, and you watched him pull his lip between his teeth.

“What was it you said? You woke up…?”

You looked at Steve, hating him and his mocking tone. You hated the way he talked like he already knew the answers he was looking for, like he was the smartest person in the room.

“…because Y/N wasn’t beside me,” he finally answered.

Steve nodded, slowly and with a hum.

“…and why not? Where was she?”

Your heart dropped to the very bottom of your stomach, and the room swayed for half a second as you tightened your hand on Peter’s arm. You didn’t stare at any of them, your eyes falling to the floor as you fought to keep your food down. You felt numb and heavy all at once, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely wanted to die.

“Where was she, Peter?” Steve asked again, not so nice this time.

Peter didn’t respond right away, and you wrapped your arm around him, forehead falling to his frame as you held in a sob.

“She was by the window,” he finally breathed, sounding defeated. “Looking out of it.”

You heard Clint mumble something, and although you couldn’t make it out, you knew it wasn’t nice.

Only another moment passed before Peter was harshly pushing you back, but it wasn’t fast enough. Bucky’s hand had gripped the sleeve of your nightgown, both ripping the fabric and scratching your skin in the process. You screamed in both shock and pain, hurrying back until you met the wall, clutching your arm as Peter harshly shoved the older man away.

“She didn’t do it!”

“Move, Peter,” Bucky hissed. “Anyone with half a brain can see that she helped her! She-.”

Bucky cut himself off, and when you looked around Peter, the other man’s chest was heaving as he stared you down.

“Anything could’ve happened to Nat,” he forced out. “Anything, and she-!”

“I didn’t help her!”

“Shut up,” he snarled at you, so harsh and violent that more tears fell.

You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying and failing to hold your sobs in.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of her mouth unless it’s the truth,” he bit out.

“Do not talk to her like that,” Peter told him, taking a step towards him. “Do you hear me?”

He continued before Bucky could say anything else.

“You’re angry, I get it, but if you think I’m going to stand here and let you talk to her like that, you’ve taken one too many blows to the head,” Peter sneered.

They stared at one another for what felt like too long, just staring each other down, and you felt yourself sliding to the floor. The room was blurry from your tears, and it felt so hard to breathe. You brought your knees up to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell.

“Let me talk to her,” you heard Peter whisper, the same thing you’d heard him yell earlier.

You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried, and you let your head fall into your hands. The room was quiet save from the sound of you, and it wasn’t long before you felt Peter’s hands reach for your own.

“Peter,” you sobbed.

“Look at me. Hey…look at me,” he softly said. “Please…”

You reluctantly peeled your eyes open, and you glanced up when Peter gripped your chin.

“Don’t look at them,” he told you, voice gentle. “Look right at me.”

His voice was soothing, and you reached up to grip his wrist as you met his dark gaze. His eyes were soft, but there was something swirling there that made you nervous. An underlying skepticism lie there, and you pressed your lips together.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he quietly praised, sadly smiling at you.

He wiped your face, tongue darting between his lips. He stared at you, running his eyes over your face, and drinking you in for a moment.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

“No,” you answered without hesitation. “I didn’t. I… I could never.”

…and it was true.

You weren’t like Nat. You were weak, passive at best, and you could never have the courage to actively help anyone in this house escape. At least, you didn’t think so. The best anyone would get out of you was…well…simply looking the other way, and that was why as Peter took a deep breath, hinting that he was not done, you feared what would come out of his mouth. You dreaded his next words…

…and Peter looked like he dreaded them too.

He looked like he dreaded them more than the question that had just left his lips, and maybe it was because he knew the truth in this moment.

“…but you saw her leave.”

He held your gaze, and you held his. You didn’t move…didn’t speak, but you didn’t need to. Your silence was confirmation enough, and you flinched when you heard Bucky break something. It sounded like a glass.

“Peter…”

“You saw her leave…and you didn’t say anything,” he sounded heartbroken, and you soon realized why. “You lied to me.”

Your head lowered, and you wiped your face, but more tears just replaced those. You reached for him, gripping his shirt, trying to keep him close.

“Peter… Peter, I’m sorry,” you choked out, trying to pull him closer.

“That’s why…” he trailed off, sighing to himself as his eyes fell closed.

He chuckled to himself, but it lacked humor.

“That’s why,” he said to himself, his own head lowering so that his forehead touched yours.

You felt him wipe your face, a shaky sigh leaving him.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he murmured. “…but I’m not who you should be apologizing to.”

You looked at him with wide eyes when he pulled away, and you released another sob. Just the thought of what was waiting for you had you breathing short, and you pressed your hand to your chest. Peter still had one of your hands, and you could feel his chin on top of your head.

“Anything could have happened to her,” he told you. “Nat could’ve been seriously hurt…she could’ve died.”

“We told you,” you heard Bucky harshly tell him. “We told you you were being too soft on her.”

“Bucky…”

Peter’s voice reeked of exasperation as he held you to him, letting you cry into his chest. You couldn’t stop shaking, and your head was pounding so much from your tears. What would happen to you now? Would you be going down into the basement? For how long? Or…

Or was Steve going to make Peter tie you to a tree?

“What? You’re going to look at us and tell us we’re wrong, now? Nat escaped!”

You flinched as Bucky raised his voice, sounding much closer, too close.

“…and she just let it happen,” he snarled. “If she wasn’t yours…if she was just some random woman on the street, I’d wring her neck.”

That was enough to have Peter pulling away from you, presumably confronting Bucky, but you couldn’t even care, couldn’t even focus on that. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried. Every time you did, you almost choked, and between that and trying to suck in air…

“…and why would I be like you…? Or Steve? You don’t think you broke her enough when you killed her friends? What did you expect, for her to behave rationally all this time?”

You heard Bucky chuckle, and for some reason, you hated the sound of it. It was cold, nasty, and it sounded like something that preceded trouble.

“Get off your high horse, Peter,” Bucky threw at him. “You’ve done just as much damage to her as we have…”

Bucky’s next words made your breath stop entirely.

“…it wasn’t us who killed…what was her name? Was it Michelle? Was that the one you shot?”

You felt…paralyzed, and the distinct lack of sobs filling the room was evident. Your hands had been on your forehead, and you could only stare at the floor as you felt like nothing was below your feet, falling without an end in sight. A sharp pain in your head forced you to squeeze your eyes shut, and you shook your head.

No.

No…no…

That wasn’t right.

It couldn’t be.

Sam…Sam killed her. Hadn’t he?

Your chest was hurting so bad that you actually clutched it, gasping for breath, and your other hand reached for the wall, trying and failing to steady yourself. You felt like you were in pain, and when you tried to stand up, you only fell back down. You felt familiar hands on your arms, and when you looked up, you flinched.

Peter frowned.

“Y/N…”

“What…?” you breathed.

That couldn’t be true…and yet…you couldn’t recall actually seeing Sam shoot Michelle. You…you had just assumed… But Peter was the first one to get to you that day, but he’d also spoke as if it was Sam…but Peter… As you looked into his brown eyes, the brown eyes that you had grown to look forward to looking into, you realized that Peter was a liar…and a murderer.

…and you wanted to be sick.

His hands were on your face, and you tried to bat them away.

“No, no, no,” you repeatedly mumbled, shaking your head. “No!”

You shoved at him, but Peter wouldn’t budge, determined to get you to calm down. Too preoccupied with wanting to be as far away from him as possible, you were none the wiser to Steve’s approach.

“It’s a good thing you brought Nat back up to prepare for Bruce’s visit,” the blond said, shoving past Peter and roughly grabbing you. “…because now she’ll have the whole basement to herself.”

The scream that you let out hurt your throat, and despite your anger and disgust with him, you still reached for Peter as Steve dragged you away. Your hand just barely grazed his as your feet lifted from the ground, and you reached out, trying to grab onto anything you could. You could hear Peter following behind Steve, begging and pleading with him on your behalf.

You could hear something occasionally being knocked over by you, the sound of breaking glass reaching your ears here and there. When Steve finally did reach the basement door, you pressed your feet to it, trying in vain to prevent this from happening. You hadn’t been in the basement since your first few days here, and it was not somewhere you wanted to be again. Not now…not after…

However, enthusiastic to see you suffer for letting his wife get away, Bucky unlocked and opened the door for Steve, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole. When Steve’s arm pressed into the cut Bucky had made on your arm, you winced.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time…”

…and with those last words, Steve tossed you inside. Your hands slid over the steps as you fell, feet tangling together, and you reached out to grab the rail, but it only slowed your descent. It did nothing to stop it, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap just as the door was slammed shut. You were surrounded by darkness, but it was the least of your worries, a choked wail escaping you at the thought of Peter.

You pressed your face into the floor as you cried, lacking the strength and will to move.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker x reader

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makoodles · 2 years

Text

tìtunu | tsu'tey (part 4 | nsfw)

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 10k words

warnings: nsfw, jealousy, hurt/comfort, size difference, p in v sex, doggy-style, rough (?) sex

notes: i really though that i was finished with this, but y'all got me with the asks about jealous and protective tsu'tey 😭 (also this gif makes me fucking FERALLLL)

read it on ao3

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part 4 (nsfw) masterlist

Tsu’tey doesn’t think he’s ever been so smug in his whole life.

He survived the battle with the Sky People, he has healed from his wounds and come back even stronger, and he has been successful in his mating advances with his chosen mate.

The fact that his chosen mate was one of the little sky demons that he hates so much, was a surprise to the whole village (he had surprised himself too, truthfully) but everything is different with you. You are not destructive, you are not harmful – you study the flora and fauna of his planet with the reverence of a wide-eyed child, and he finds it terribly endearing. You are so small, and his planet can be such a harsh place for one as soft as a human. It’s a constant source of frustration and concern, despite his best efforts to handle and minimise possible risks.

“You are certain?” He demands of the Sky Person in front of him.

The man is one of the so-called scientists that live in the pathetic excuse for housing that the alien demons had built in the forest after the rest of the Sky People had been forced off the planet. There’s not many of them; the ones who stayed were approved by the few loyal demons, and they are largely respectful of the native populations as they try to integrate as much as they are allowed. That does not mean that Tsu’tey trusts them, and it certainly doesn’t mean that he likes them.

“Yes,” The little man in front of him says, visibly nervous. He swallows thickly, his heavy breaths fogging up his odd little mask. “Yes, we tested all the fruit you brought, and they all came up safe for human consumption. A human digestive system wouldn’t be able to break down something like meat from Pandoran animals, but the fruits you brought should be fine. Chemically, it’s quite similar to fruits we have back on Earth-”

Tsu’tey just grunts. He does not care about Earth's fruits. All he wants to know is whether he can feed you some of the fruits that he has foraged, and now that he has gotten his answer he is not inclined to stand around and listen to the little man bumble along any longer.

Without another word he turns and strides away, reaching his pa’li and pulling himself astride her with ease before urging her forward into the forest. At a swift pace, he reaches the village in no time and from there he moves quickly to find you.

Unsurprisingly, he finds you beneath one of the pxiut trees. You have your notebook open in front of you as you lay on your belly making your silly little notes, totally absorbed in your work. As he approaches, he takes the opportunity to look you over.

You appear content, head bowed over your work as you write. The bright sunshine filters in through the trees overhead, sending dappled patterns over your exposed skin. Seeing your strange human form dressed in the traditional clothes of the Na’vi always sets Tsu’tey alight, and his tail swishes appreciatively as he admires you.

“Hello, demon,” He murmurs when he reaches you, lowering himself to his knees out of pure habit. It has become second-nature to lower himself to your level when he’s around you – he enjoys the closeness of it.

You hum. Though you don’t lift your eyes from your work, a smile is beginning to curve your lips. “Is that any way to greet your mate?”

Tsu’tey’s lips quirk in response, and he leans in so his nose is nuzzling into your hair. You lean into him in a move that’s mostly automatic, and he feels a flare of smug pleasure at the ease with which you melt against his side.

“My little demon,” He corrects himself with a sardonic little grin, enjoying the way you roll your eyes fondly. “I have brought you food. Will you eat?”

Your eyes dart to his immediately, visibly uncertain. He already knows what you’re thinking, and he tries not to wince.

“It is safe,” He says quickly. “I asked one of the tawtute. They did tests.”

Your expression changes then, your grin growing sharper. “Aw, look at you taking care of me, huh?”

He can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him, but that doesn’t stop the swell of pride in his chest. Yes, he is taking care of you. It’s always gratifying when his efforts are noticed, and he tries not to look too smug as he reaches out to touch you.

You are laying on your belly with your notebook in front of you, so his hand comes to rest on the back of one of your thighs. You are so small beneath him, so soft and squishy compared to the lean hardness of most Na’vi bodies. He can’t resist squeezing just slightly, just to watch the squidge of your thighs poke out between his spread fingers.

You roll your eyes at him – you know exactly what he’s doing, after all. He has not been very successful at keeping his fascination with your little pliable body a secret, and why should he? You are his mate, and you belong to him as surely as he belongs to you. Getting to touch you like this is a privilege belonging only to him, and he wishes to get as much out of it as he can.

“I always take care of you.” He says, and your smile softens.

“Yeah, big guy, you do.” You say, and the fondness in your voice is so obvious that it makes Tsu’tey’s hardened heart tremble a little in his chest.

His hand slides up your plush thighs and comes to a rest over the swell of your backside, relishing the heat of your skin even through the tewng covering you. You’re even softer here, nothing but squidge, and he allows himself a moment to indulge in squeezing you here too as you laugh.

“Alright, pervert,” You snicker, closing your notebook and pushing yourself up. “You can’t just start feeling me up – we’re in public.”

Tsu’tey’s hand falls away as you move to stand, and he has to fight the urge to pout hard. “The People know that we are mated in the eyes of Eywa.”

“That doesn’t mean that it’s okay to traumatise them all like this.” You snort. “I don’t think anyone wants to see you groping me in broad daylight.”

Many of the People have a sort of morbid curiosity about how mating with a tawtute works, so Tsu’tey isn’t entirely certain that you’re correct in that assumption. There are many who would be only too pleased to watch. But he doesn’t argue; you are beginning to push yourself to your feet, so he stands too.

“What is pervert?” He asks, looking down at you as you stretch your arms overhead and yawn.

Truthfully he gets distracted for a moment, admiring your soft belly and exposed skin in Na’vi clothes – if he could burn all your human coverings without you getting angry at him, he certainly would. He wants to see you dressed in the clothes of his People all the time.

You laugh as if he had said something very funny. “A pervert is what you are.”

“Is it a bad thing?” He wonders, reaching out so that his hand rests on the back of your neck across your shoulders.

Your eyes flutter closed as he kneads lightly at the base of your neck. “No,” You murmur softly. “Not when it’s you.”

He relaxes, nodding decisively before reaching for your small hand. “Come. You will eat and watch me train.”

It’s become almost like a routine for him to drag you with him to practice fighting or sparring. While you don’t come with him every day, he has managed to bring you often enough that the sight of you trailing behind him towards the training ground is a familiar one for the young warriors in training.

As he leads you towards the training grounds, he sees the few young warriors gathered around the archery practice range turn to watch his approach. Their eyes flicker towards you – though they never say anything about it, he knows that their curiosity is burning at the sight of you at Tsu’tey’s hip. The apprehension and caution about the Sky People is still very much embedded in their hearts and minds, and yet you are probably the least intimidating thing they’ve ever seen in their lives.

Tsu’tey imagines that his own interest and desire for you only fuels their curiosity further. He had gained somewhat of a reputation for himself before he had met you; he is the strongest warrior in the clan, he had been trained from a very young age for leadership, and he is a prominent and well-respected figure within the village. He was much desired as a mate by many women in the clan.

So when he chose you, the small and soft demon that is entirely unsuited to their planet, it was a source of surprise to many. Yet he is lucky – his people are supportive, even when they do not understand his choice of mate. Even if some of the women remain slightly disgruntled with him.

“You will sit over here,” He pushes you gently towards a clearing, out of the way of the other Na’vi that tower over you, to a spot where you will be safe. “You can see well, from here.”

It’s important that you have a good view, after all. He likes it when you watch him – it’s satisfying to give you a display of his physical strength and his skills, to remind you that he is a strong mate for you.

You just sit down where he’s directed you, and smile eagerly at him. He knows that you enjoy watching him too, and his tail swishes in anticipation. If you are pleased with what you see, it can only mean good things in store for him later.

“What are you up to today, then?” You ask, lounging back in the soft mossy ground against the stump of a tree.

“Spear training, and then hand to hand combat.” He says, reaching into the small bag around his waist. He pulls out the soft wrapped leaf package that he had prepared earlier and hands it to you. “Fruit. Eat.”

You take the wrapped fruit from him and peer at it with curiosity, poking at it with your small fingers. You seem pleased, and take a breath before lifting your mask so you can pop the fruit in your mouth before replacing it.

“It’s good,” You say, smiling, before tilting your head up at him with a faux-innocent expression. “So, do I get to see you all oiled up and wrestling some other super muscly man?”

That makes him chuckle, and he reaches out to stroke a single finger over the top of your head. “Would you like to see that?”

“Oh yeah,” You hum, and your grin behind your mask is unmistakably suggestive. “Definitely.”

His own grin grows sharp, and he bends on one knee so that he can be at eye-level with you. “I can oil myself up and show you wrestling later, after eclipse.”

That makes you laugh, tilting your head back with delight. “Oh, that’s so corny.”

He has no idea what that means, corny, but you look happy so it must be a good thing. He leans down and kisses the top of your head before straightening up. From behind, he can hear some of the younger warriors in training begin to call his name.

He gives you one last lingering look before turning and making his way towards the others.

Training takes the better half of the afternoon.

He demonstrates spear throwing techniques, he corrects postures and methods, he shouts criticisms and praises by turn. Every so often he glances towards you, mostly out of habit – you have pulled out your little book at some point, and are making notes again. Every single time, without fail, you look up as though you feel his eyes on you. And every time, you beam at him and his heart stumbles a little in his chest. Burying his reactions as best he can in front of his fellow warriors, the most Tsu’tey allows himself is the flick of a single ear.

When they finally do get to hand to hand training, he sees you visibly perk up and his ego inflates significantly. It is so very gratifying to be able to train and show off in front of you, especially when he successfully overcomes his opponents.

He can feel your watchful eyes on him all the time, pushing him harder and harder as he wrestles with warrior after warrior. The young ones in training watch on too, eager to learn, but the only gaze he truly cares about is yours.

Eventually, he takes a break from tumbling around the square that had been cleared off specifically for training and steps to the side so that he can observe some of the young ones in training practice their form. While he attempts to focus on calling out constructive criticism, he can’t stop his eyes from darting towards you occasionally.

Though your notebook is splayed out front of you, you are making no effort at all to hide the fact that you’re watching him. His chest is heaving and a thin layer of sweat coats his body, and he can feel the weight of your stare dropping slowly over the length of him. It makes him feel hot and itchy, and he has to fight to keep himself from marching right over to you and doing something very stupid indeed.

He is so distracted by your stare that he almost doesn’t notice when one of the other warriors sidles up to him. It is Takuk, and he is watching him with an amused sort of expression.

“Brother,” He greets him, offering the customary gesture of respect. “You are distracted today.”

His statement is nothing but the truth, but Tsu’tey bristles anyway. Takuk had been a hunter trainee not too long ago himself, but has developed into a man in the last year; he has claimed an ikran, he wears a battle band around his waist, but he has not yet taken a mate. Tsu’tey dislikes the way he is looking at you, considering you are already claimed.

“I am not distracted.” Tsu’tey lies through his teeth. His tone is sharp enough that he hopes it will dissuade Takuk from this line of conversation.

Takuk just hums, clearly unconvinced. He has grown irritatingly confident since his iknimaya. He looks over to where you’re sitting; you’ve lowered your head once more to scribble in your book, and Takuk takes the opportunity to squint at you.

“What is it like, being with one of them?” He asks, casting a slant-eyed glance back at Tsu’tey. “Is she not too… small?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes around his ankles, though he keeps his expression carefully contained. He is proud to be mated to you, but he does not like questions like this. He does not like to think that Takuk is imagining you like that.

“She is small,” He acknowledges, his voice clipped. “But not too small.”

It is enough to answer his question without giving him details, but Takuk grins as though what he has said is much more revealing than it truly is. When he looks back over in your direction again, Tsu’tey tenses.

Takuk notices, and sighs. “Brother, I am only asking. We are curious about your mate. You are so protective of her.”

Tsu’tey rolls his shoulders, considering. This is not untrue. The curiosity of his people is blatant, and mostly harmless; perhaps he has been too protective, but he has always been a private man.

“It works.” He says at last. It feels a little as though the words are being pulled from him by force. “She is small, and strange, but it works.”

Takuk’s ears twitch forwards in amusement, but he wisely decides not to make a smart comment.

“Even though she cannot make tsaheylu?” He wonders, low and quiet.

Ah. So that is the source of all their curiosity. Tsu’tey supposes he cannot blame them for that. It is a most unusual relationship he has with you, after all. Tsaheylu is the building block of all life on Pandora, and it is how every living creature interacts with the world around them. To have taken a mate that is unable to make this bond would be almost unthinkable to many Na’vi. Tsu’tey supposes he cannot blame them for that morbid curiosity – it would have been unthinkable for him once, too.

“Even though she cannot make tsaheylu.” Tsu’tey confirms quietly. “She sees me anyway.”

Takuk is thoughtfully silent at that, which Tsu’tey is mercifully grateful for. That was a little too vulnerable for his tastes, and he ends up clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders in an attempt to regain some of his authority.

“Back to training.” He says firmly, reaching out to push at Takuk’s head. “No more making eyes at my mate.”

Takuk just laughs, his ears twitching with good humour. “It is not me you need to tell, brother,” He says, before tilting his head pointedly in your direction. “It is the trainees that are so curious about her.”

Tsu’tey follows his gaze. Sure enough, you are no longer alone in your spot at the side of the training grounds. Several of the hunter trainees are crouched near you, watching you with big curious eyes as you chat to one of the young Na’vi that has been bold enough to creep forward. It is At’u, one of the foremost young men in training.

Tsu’tey’s ears flatten when he sees the way At’u’s tail is coiling. It is the universal signal of interest among their kind, and the audacity of the younglings infuriate him.

Without waiting another moment, Tsu’tey strides your way. He can hear Takuk starting to laugh from behind him, but he ignores him; he is precision-focused on you and the jumped up little shits around you.

When At’u reaches out to touch the hair on your head, Tsu’tey’s vision goes black around the edges. Anger bubbles up in his chest; curiosity is one thing, but having the insolence to touch you right in front of Tsu’tey’s eyes is another thing.

When Tsu’tey reaches you, you look up at him with a smile. He doesn’t return it; he’s too busy levelling a dark glare At’u’s way, his ears flat and tail held low. The youngling’s tail coils low in response, but he does not move away from you.

Tsu’tey hisses at him, baring his sharp teeth as he rounds on the rest of the trainees. They scatter almost instantly, scrambling to flee back to the training area. At’u flees too, flinching hard before following after his friends.

“Tsu’tey!” You hiss at him, visibly horrified. “That was so rude! They were only curious-”

He’s still glaring at the backs of the young trainees as he crouches down in front of you, but after a moment he turns to look at you. Your brows are scrunched, your eyes flared a little in outrage as you scowl at him. Oh, you look angry with him. It’s more adorable than you probably mean it to be.

“They do not know their place.” He mutters, scooching a little closer to you.

“They’re children!” You protest, rolling your eyes.

“They are training to be hunters and warriors.” Tsu’tey grumbles. As cute as you are when you’re angry, he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of it. “They know what they’re doing. They will be eligible to pick a mate after iknimaya.”

That makes you pause, and your eyes flicker carefully over his face.

“Are you…” You begin slowly. “Are you jealous? They’re going to pick Na’vi mates. Besides, I already have a mate.”

Warm satisfaction pools in his chest, and he scooches closer to you yet again. Something deep within him eases now that you’re within arms reach.

“Did you not see the way they were twitching their ears at you?” He murmurs, brow furrowing. You hesitate, and his tail lashes in agitation. “I knew it! You do not even see how they act-”

“Oh, hush,” You sigh, reaching out to pet the side of his face. “You’re being silly. Why would I want anyone else when I have a big handsome beefcake like you, huh?”

Tsu’tey has no idea what beefcake is, but you sound pleased when you say it so he imagines it is a good thing.

Your thumb strokes over his cheek, and then you frown and reach out to wipe under his nose. “You’re bleeding.”

He had received an elbow to the face at some point during hand to hand combat, but it feels only mildly tender now. Still though, when you begin smoothing away the blood with your thumb he leans into your hands. It feels good to be cared for.

“Does it hurt?” You wonder, peering closer as you try to assess the damage.

“No,” Tsu’tey snorts, a little offended. How weak do you think he is? But then you start to pull away, taking your little hands away from his face, and he’s quick to add, “A little. Will you care for me later?”

That makes you laugh, and his ears wiggle smugly when you lean forward to bump your forehead against his.

“Yes,” You whisper, grinning up at him. “I’ll take real good care of you.”

His tail thumps off the ground, his mouth beginning to curl in an eager smile. Your eyes are lingering around his sweat-slick chest and your thumb strokes over his bloodied nose, gentle over his bruised skin. He fights the urge to lean in further into your grasp, though it’s difficult.

“You watched me train?”

You huff a soft laugh. “Of course. Couldn’t tear my eyes away. You looked good, big guy.”

Tsu’tey swears he feels his whole heart thump heavily in his chest. There is a bone-deep satisfaction that settles over him at the confirmation that you see him as someone worthy, a good mate. It soothes the edges of his jagged pride and makes him feel whole.

“I am happy to have pleased you,” He murmurs sincerely, tucking his ears low as he meets your eyes. Your eyes soften, and you brush the last remnants of blood from his nose before taking your hand back. “Would you like to watch further?”

You hum in thought for a moment, before shrugging. “I think I’ll head back to the kelku. I wanted to cross-check some notes I took today with my other research.”

Tsu’tey has never been able to make much sense of your science talk, but he inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Then I will meet you back at home, ma’yawntutsyìp.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Tsu’tey’s feels as though he’s crawling out of his skin. He runs through the rest of his duties on autopilot, offering criticism and compliments by turns to the young warriors and hunters throughout the day, but his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of you the whole time.

It’s a struggle to stay focused. He keeps thinking of your eyes tracing over his chest and stomach, of your soft hands on his face, of your coy promise to take care of him later. It feels almost physically painful to force himself to finish out training with the others, but he pushes himself anyway.

It’s nearing evening when he finally begins to finish up, delivering his last few instructions to the young hunters as they begin to ready themselves to return to the village. He’s antsy, watching impatiently as the young ones push and laugh at each other.

When Takuk approaches him again, he has to fight not to roll his eyes – he has picked up too many of your little human mannerisms already.

“Your aim has improved.” Tsu’tey grunts, preoccupied with slinging his bow back over his shoulder.

Takuk perks up, visibly pleased with the compliment. He inclines his head in thanks, before leaning his weight casually back on one leg as he watches Tsu’tey pack up. He’s no doubt noticing that he’s moving with an unusual sense of urgency.

“Your mate is waiting for you, hm?” He asks, his mouth twitching.

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes in warning. He doesn’t like Takuk’s teasing tone, but he can’t help the anticipation that’s building in his stomach at the thought of getting back to you after your teasing throughout the day.

“Yes,” Tsu’tey grunts. “I will bring her fruit.”

Takuk nods, clearly approving, before looking to his feet. He appears to be thinking, and Tsu’tey waits as patiently as he can for him to speak again.

“I am thinking of taking a mate soon,” The young warrior says at last, still keeping his gaze low. “Do.. Do you think that Kaey’ra would have me?”

Tsu’tey pauses to give his question some thought. “Yes. I think she would. It would be a good match.”

Takuk’s shoulders loosen, and his ears rotate forward in satisfaction. It is a confidence booster for Tsu’tey too – it is nice to have his opinion so valued by one of his past students, now a peer. He is happy for his friend, and Tsu’tey claps him on the shoulder.

“I must plan a courting display,” Takuk murmurs, his brow lowering thoughtfully. “I will-”

He cuts himself off, staring somewhere behind Tsu’tey’s shoulder. Frowning, Tsu’tey turns to follow his gaze only to be met with the sight of one of the young warriors approaching him with his tail tucked low between his legs.

“Ma’Tsu’tey,” He greets, his ears flattened anxiously against his head. “I am sorry-”

“What.” Tsu’tey interrupts, his eyes narrowing. The sight of the youngling all twisted and anxious leaves a bad feeling settling into his stomach. “What is it?”

The youngling looks as though he would rather be anywhere else other than right there. “It’s just.. Your mate is-”

Tsu’tey’s stomach plummets to his feet, and he takes a step forward. His teeth bare without conscious thought. “Where is she?”

The young hunter flinches, but to his credit he doesn’t step back. “She is with tsahìk-”

It feels as though Tsu’tey’s brain has been filled with static panic. He’s hardly aware of turning away from the warriors and racing away, his feet pounding hard against the ground as he shoulders his way past the young trainees that are still lingering around the training area.

The only reason for you to be with Mo’at is that you are injured, and the thought fills Tsu’tey with a bone-deep, nauseating fear. He was only apart from you for a few hours at most – how could you have gotten hurt in such a short space of time? He thinks of your fragile bones, your thin skin, your diminutive stature; he knows that the answer is all too easily.

He can’t help himself from conjuring up worst-case scenarios – he imagines you broken and bleeding, unconscious, crying from pain, calling for him when he’s too far away to hear you. He feels sick as he reaches the village, making a beeline for the tsahìk’s hut.

“Move,” He snarls at someone who walks across his path. He’s blind with panic, hardly even sees who he’s snarling at. They jump out of his way as he storms past, practically diving his way towards the tsahìk’s home.

Usually, Tsu’tey prides himself on his grace and agility. He has always been the best warrior in the clan, and one of the most decorated hunters – his training has left him swift and dextrous. And yet now he finds himself stumbling, acting like a fear-stricken fool as he ducks his way into the hut.

Mo’at doesn’t even glance up at his unceremonious entrance, though you do. You’re perched carefully in the corner, with the tsahìk hunched over you as she carefully wraps your forearm with plant-fibre bandages. The whole space smells like the medicinal herbs used for healing – he guesses that she’s spread healing paste over you.

Something loosens in his chest at the sight of you unbloodied and conscious, though he doesn’t relax just yet.

“Oh, shit.” You sigh when you see him, before offering him a weak little smile.

“What has happened?” He demands, ducking his way under the dried herbs hanging from the woven ceiling as he makes his way towards you.

Mo’at still doesn’t look away from her work. “Where are your manners, Tsu’tey?”

Her tone is sharp enough to chasten him, but he does not relent completely. He comes to a stop over Mo’at’s shoulder and attempts to lean over her in an attempt to see what she’s doing, his tail whipping anxiously around his feet.

When he spots your arm, he makes a wounded sort of noise. Your wrist is all swollen, and if he looks closely he can see the beginning of discolouration around the joint as it begins to bruise. He ends up dropping to his knees beside you. In his haste, he almost pushes Mo’at aside, oblivious to the sharp look she sends his way.

“What happened, ma’muntxate?” He demands, reaching out to take your wrist in his hand so he can get a better look.

Mo’at knocks his hand away with a resounding slap before hissing a sharp warning at him. “Do not touch while I am bandaging!”

“Is it broken?” He asks, whirling to face the tsahìk. His tail curls around your thigh, squeezing tight as he seeks reassurance in the form of your soft, warm flesh.

“It’s fine-” You start to say, but Tsu’tey isn’t listening to your attempts at placating him.

“It is a sprain.” Mo’at says. Her tone implies that she is sick of dealing with him already, but he pays her no mind.

“How did this happen?” He asks yet again, shuffling forward on his knees so that the bulk of his body is curling around you. There is no danger here in Mo’at’s tent, but it makes him feel better when he hunches protectively around you.

“It’s no big deal,” You say quickly, clearly attempting damage control. “I just- I fell, and I landed a little awkwardly-”

“Fell where?”

That makes you pause, and Tsu’tey’s expression flattens as he waits for your answer.

“Um.. The ladder,” You murmur, glancing down at your lap. “The ladder that leads to the kelku. I slipped climbing up it, and fell. But it wasn’t from very high.”

He hadn’t thought it possible, but he feels his stomach sink even further at that. Fuck, it was his fault. The vine ladder he had woven for you was only meant to be a temporary measure to help you climb up into your shared kelku in the high trees until he could get around to building a more permanent solution. He had considered the possibility of you falling, but never seriously – not even children would fall so easily.

He must look stricken somehow, because your own face begins to contort in response.

“It was my fault,” You say hurriedly. “I wasn’t paying proper attention, and I slipped. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

He lets out a soft, low sound, before shaking his head. His jaw is clenched tight. What a stupid mistake for him to make. His tiny soft mate, so frail and weak. He should have known that the ladder was too risky for you to be climbing up and down. Only a sprain; he is so lucky that it was only a sprain. What would he have done if it was something worse?

Mo’at clicks her tongue, then sits back and surveys her handiwork. It’s as neat and meticulous as ever, the bandages wrapped tight around your injured wrist.

“There,” Mo’at says simply. “Rest it. It will be just fine in a few days.”

Tsu’tey hardly hears her at all. He’s too busy staring at the bandages, pale green against your bruised skin. This should never have happened. He’s meant to protect you, to keep you safe. That’s what he had promised you. What kind of mate is he, if he can’t even provide a safe way for you to enter the home he had offered you?

He’s pulled out of his cycle of self-flagellation by Mo’at swatting ungently at his head.

“Take your mate and leave,” She says, shooting him an unimpressed look. “No sulking. Just watch after her.”

“Yes, tsahìk.” He says quietly, inclining his head towards her out of respect.

When he turns back to you, you’re already watching him with big, guilty eyes. That only makes him feel worse – why should you feel guilty, when it is him that has failed you?

“Come, ma’yawne,” He murmurs, reaching out to hold you. “I will take you home.”

You open your mouth, no doubt to be stubborn and protest that you can walk yourself, or some other such nonsense, but he doesn’t wait to give you the chance. He just tucks his arms under your back and legs and hauls you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he stands.

With one last murmured thanks to Mo’at, he carries you right out of the hut and back into the evening light.

Tsu’tey is willing to admit that over the next few days, he is a little more… vigilant than usual.

“Tsu’tey, seriously,” You complain. “It’s a sprained wrist, it’s nothing!”

He doesn’t justify that with a response. Your injury is not nothing. It is a representation of his failure as a mate, and it hurts his pride to look at the bandages for too long. All he can do is commit himself to ensuring that something like this never happens again.

He brings you food and water in bed, he offers you gifts of books and the silly little glowing pads he manages to bully out of the tawtute in the human science encampment, and he makes sure the kelku is more cushioned and comfortable than ever before. His aim is to make sure that you have everything you need right there in your home, so that you won’t have to leave again – at least, not until he has finished safe-guarding the sloping rope bridge he is attempting to build for you.

Even now, your legs dangle from the edge of the kelku’s entrance as you watch him work on the wide branch below. You’re secure where you are, your hands holding tight to the edge of the tree branch that your legs hang from, but Tsu’tey keeps stealing looks up at you every couple of moments to ensure that you’re still there.

Around the twentieth time he glances up at you, you roll your eyes and meet his gaze with a challenging stare.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You ask, swinging your legs in the air. “It’s a nice day, and I haven’t been out in ages.”

Tsu’tey grunts, but doesn’t answer properly. His tail curls as he weaves another section of his makeshift rope bridge; it will be narrow and a little precarious, but he is certain it will be a better solution than the ladder you had fallen from.

From above, you click your tongue in dissatisfaction. “I know what you’re doing.”

He slants a glance up at you, lips pursed. Once again, he says nothing. Knowing you, you’re not finished speaking yet anyway.

Sure enough, his silence only seems to irritate you.

“I’m not staying up here forever, you know.” You say insistently, and Tsu’tey tenses when you lean forward to get a better look at him as he works on the branch below you. “I know you’re angry at me for getting hurt, but it’s only a sprained wrist and it’s not like-”

“I am not angry.” Tsu’tey interrupts, though he can’t manage to meet your eyes. His ears are pinned to the sides of his head; is that really what you think?

You let out a clearly frustrated noise. “You’ve hardly spoken to me for days. All you do is work on this stupid bridge-”

He finally looks up at that, lip curling in annoyance as he squints up to you. The rope bridge is admittedly rudimentary, but it’s for you. It’s true that he hasn’t been as demonstrative with his affections as usual for the past couple of days, but you’ve been injured. He couldn’t even think of touching you when you’re hurt – the remnants of bruising around your wrist makes him feel that sense of failure every time he catches sight of them.

When he fails to verbally respond yet again, you scowl at him. “Are you just not going to talk to me?”

At that, he sighs. “What do you want me to say?”

You set your jaw and glare for a second, before promptly shoving yourself to your feet. Tsu’tey tenses once more as you stand, so nerve-wrackingly close to the edge of the kelku, before you turn on your heel and march back inside.

Once you’re gone, Tsu’tey allows his shoulders to drop. Damn. He probably could have handled that better – communication has never been his strong suit. He’s never really felt the compulsion to explain himself or his thinking to anyone before, and now he finds himself at a loss for how to approach his feelings with you.

You think that he’s angry with you, which is absolutely untrue. Are you angry with him? Fuck.

Sighing, he finishes one last knot in the rope he was working on before dropping it. He needs to sort this out.

It only takes one jump for him to catch the edge of the kelku with his hands, and then he hauls himself up with ease. Part of the reason that he had been so startled when he realised you had been injured climbing the tree was because it was something that should have been so easy, something that just came naturally to the Omaticaya. It hadn’t occurred to him that it might have been possible for you to fall so easily.

When he steps inside the kelku, he spots your little form curled up on the woven rug atop the cushy leaves he had padded the wooden floor with. You’re holding one of the glowing pad things that the tawtute are always tapping away on, although you don’t appear to be reading anything off it – it seems more like you’re simply staring fixedly at it in an effort to avoid meeting his stare.

He moves slowly towards you, tail held low in as non-threatening a manner as he can manage. You don’t look up, though he can see the way your eyes slide subtly toward him. When he kneels down by your side, you’re forced to raise your gaze towards him.

“I do not mean to upset you, Säsrätx,” He murmurs, his voice low as he bends his head towards you. He does not want you to be angry with him – the thought curdles in his stomach.

You take a slow inhale through your nose, the breath fogging lightly against the clear material of your breathing mask before dissipating.

“I’m not made of glass, big guy,” You mumble, glancing back down at your hands. “You can’t treat me like a kid just because I got a minor injury.”

Tsu’tey makes a soft grumbling noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t argue. You’ve never been annoyed at him like this, and he’s surprised by how much he doesn’t like it. He’s never been one to put too much stock in the opinion of others, but this is different. You are his mate, and he doesn’t want to make anything worse.

He adjusts his stance so that he’s crouched at your side, his much bigger body curling over yours as he looms over you. You’re just so small, it makes his palms itch. He hasn’t touched you properly in days, so afraid that he’ll make your injuries worse, but now he’s finding it difficult to keep his hands to himself.

You must be thinking the same thing, because your gaze drifts from his face down over his shoulders and chest, lingering around his woven necklaces and his battle waistband. Tsu’tey preens a little under your eyes, his chest puffing out a little.

“You should not have been hurt like this,” He murmurs, reaching out for your hand. “The kelku should have been safe for you. This was my fault.”

You just sigh, and shake your head. “Don’t be stupid. It was an accident. These things happen.”

Tsu’tey grunts unhappily. He’s too busy peering carefully at your wrist; your wrist and hand look so fragile in his much larger palm, and his lips press together tight as he strokes a careful thumb over the lingering discolouration on your skin. The bruises are almost gone, but he can still see the faint traces remaining.

“I have waited a long time to take a mate and have a family of my own,” He murmurs without looking up at your face. He tilts his head, a wry sort of smirk beginning to grow on his face. “I did not expect it would be with a tawtute, but I would not change things. I have lost too much over the years – I could not take it if something happened to you.”

Your expression wobbles, and then you toss your little piece of technology aside and push yourself up to your knees.

“Tsu’tey,” You whisper, eyes turning soft. “It was only a sprained wrist.”

His tail lashes, but he ducks his head down towards you so that you can cup his face in your little palms. Some of the restlessness in his chest begins to settle now that he has your hands holding his cheeks.

“I do not want you to think less of me as a mate.” He says quietly, reaching up to lay his palm flat over one of your hands on his cheek. “I should have ensured you had a safe way of entering our kelku-”

“Less of you?” You interrupt, choking out a laugh. “Are you kidding? I thought that you would think I was a total skxawng for falling like that. I had literally been promising you earlier that day that I would look after you, and then I ended up hurt like an idiot.”

Tsu’tey just makes a soft, rumbly noise in his chest in an effort to soothe you. To his relief it seems to work, and you relax into his chest.

“You can take care of me when you are better.” He says, his lips pulling up into a little smirk. It is something he looks forward to.

You hum, tilting your head back so you can look him in the eye with a coy grin. “I’m better now, big guy.”

Tsu’tey starts to snort, to pull back with an eyeroll, but to his surprise you continue grasping at his hand. When he blinks at you, he finds you staring up at him with a determined sort of look about you.

“I mean it,” You whisper, eyes all liquid and pleading. “My arm is fine, Mo’at said so. You haven’t touched me in days.”

Tsu’tey pauses at that. He looks at you properly; behind your breathing mask, your eyelashes are longer and darker than usual, and your lips are glossier. He recognises the traces of what you call makeup, and his ears twitch backwards in surprise. He knows that you wear this when you’re trying to catch his attention, and a little jolt of realisation rockets through him as he looks at you.

“Oh,” He breathes, reaching out to capture your jaw in one hand. “I see. My little mate feels neglected, is that it?”

Your cheeks grow hot in his hand, your eyes flickering away in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Despite your plea for him to touch you, now you appear flustered.

“Yes.” You whine, tilting your head into his hand. Despite your embarrassment, you manage to appear semi-confident when you finally raise your chin to look at him. “I want you to touch me.”

The edge of your breathing mask digs into his palm, and he starts to grin as he winds his long fingers into your hair. Oh, that soothes his wounded pride. Despite his mistake with the ladder, you still want him.

He ducks his head and presses a kiss to your neck, humming in satisfaction when you tilt your head back immediately to allow him access to your throat. Tsu’tey lets out a soft breath, and reaches for your waist so he can pull you into his lap. You go eagerly, clambering onto his thighs with a grin. You’re just so pliable, so trusting and needy. As soon as you’re settled in his lap, you start to grind yourself down against the growing stiffness beneath his tewng.

He lets out a quiet, surprised little huff. You really do want him to touch you, and your eagerness rushes straight to his head. He really has been neglecting you if you’re reacting like this just from a simple little neck kiss.

“I will make you feel good, ma’yawntutsyìp.” He promises – he is determined to make up for the last few days of distance between you, and he wants so desperately to taste you.

But when he begins to kiss his way down your chest, your belly, towards your thighs, your fingers weave into the roots of his hair and you tug lightly to stop him.

“As nice as your mouth would be,” You breathe, your mouth curving into a grin. “I said I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?”

His ears twitch, and he tilts his head as he eyes you carefully. You look earnest, but he’s not sure if he understands. You do not want him to use his mouth on you? Why not?

When he doesn’t make any immediate moves, you appear to take initiative yourself. You reach out to take his hand in your much smaller one, and pull it down beneath the hem of the little tewng that had been specially made for you. When his fingers make contact with the wet heat of your cunt, he goes stock still.

“You…” He starts, his brow furrowing as his fingers slide along the slickness between your legs.

He dips one finger inside, awed by how easily it slips in. It seems like you’re already all stretched out, far wetter than natural – he recognises the texture of the tawtute-made liquid you used on occasion to make the size of him easier to take. Lube, you call it. He slips another finger in, and you moan softly at the slide of it.

“You are ready.” Tsu’tey rumbles in surprise, his fingers twitching inside you.

“I’ve been ready for days,” You complain, dropping your head against his shoulder as you move your hips, attempting to get his fingers working deeper. “Waiting for you to get over your stupid worry and just fuck me.”

That just about sends him over the edge entirely. You had prepared yourself for him just to save time with stretching? The thought of you walking around the kelku for days, all sloppy and dripping down your legs as you wait for him to emerge from his brooding mood and please you sends his thoughts scattering. Fuck. How could he have been so preoccupied with his stupid rope bridge when you were sitting waiting for him to pay attention to you?

“I will fuck you,” He breathes, nuzzling at your jaw eagerly. The human term is harsh on his tongue, but he enjoys the coarseness of it.

“Don’t be gentle.” You blurt, still writhing against the bulge beneath his tewng and sending zings of pleasure shooting up his spine. “Fuck me like you mean it. I won’t break.”

Tsu’tey lets out a soft hiss. Well. What kind of a man would he be if he did not obey his little mate’s orders?

Though you have been making demands, it still seems to surprise you when he launches into movement. He grips your hips and flips you around – it’s a quick movement, and it takes you a moment to regain your bearings when you find yourself on your hands and knees on the soft leaves he’s padded the kelku’s bouncy floor with.

“Fuck, yes.” You breathe, guessing where he’s going with this immediately. You arch your back, pushing your ass back eagerly into his hands as he unties your tewng and tosses it aside.

Tsu’tey bears his teeth in a grin, lowering his face to lay a hot, biting kiss between your shoulderblades.

“Needy girl,” He rumbles, groping at your ass as his thumbs roll around your puffy, slick pussy and pull you apart so that he can admire the sticky strands of arousal that drip from you. “You are so swollen here. My poor, neglected little mate. I will make this up to you.”

When brushes his fingers through the puffy lips of your cunt and then pushes inside, you can't quite stifle the whine that escapes you. It drives him crazy. You’re still squirming even on your hands and knees beneath him, and Tsu’tey hunches over you so he can plaster his big chest over your back.

His erection presses thick and heavy against your ass. He grinds into you at the same time as he reaches around and rubs quick, tight circles into your clit. You practically choke, alternating between pushing back into his erection which is laid flushed and hot between your thighs, and pushing forward into his hand, which is still toying with your pussy.

“Come on then, big guy,” You say, your voice wavering slightly as he rubs at your clit. “Stop telling me how good you can fuck me and actually do it.”

That makes Tsu’tey snicker into the hot skin of your neck. Oh, how he can’t wait to fulfill the orders of his bossy little mate.

Grinning, he reaches out and places a hand on the back of your neck before exerting gentle pressure to push you down onto the padded floor. You go willingly, until you’re face down and ass up in a position that has Tsu’tey’s mouth watering. He can smell your arousal, so sweet and dizzying as you lay exposed and waiting for him.

You crane your neck around so that you can see him as he eyes your arched back and exposed behind eagerly. You look flustered, but your eyes are still challenging as you watch him and wait for his next move.

“So impatient, ma’tawtute,” He rumbles, amused.

He smooths a hand over your waist and down over your hip and ass. A quick, open-palmed smack is delivered to the soft, squishy flesh of your ass, and you rock forward with a choked gasp. He was careful to control the pressure he used, but even still the hint of force makes your soft cunt flutter around nothing.

“Come on, big guy,” You gasp, laying your cheek flat against the padded floor as you push your ass back towards him eagerly. “Come on, come on-”

With you all spread out and wet and begging beneath him, his self-control crumbles. He tears off his tewng and grabs at his cock, stroking it with a growled rumble before rubbing the sensitive tip against the slick folds of your cunt.

You’re gasping already, before he even begins to press inside, and he can’t help but feel impossibly endeared by your stubborn nature. Look at you – so determined and eager to take him.

When he does begin to push inside, you drop your head down to the padded floor and moan, clearly just short of overwhelmed. You’re so tight, Tsu’tey swears he nearly blacks out. He pushes in slowly, his front plastered to your little back as one of his arms reaches under your stomach to support you. The two of you are breathing heavily; you from the struggle of accepting his size inside you, and him from the vice-like grip of your cunt.

“Breathe and relax, my small mate,” He grunts, squeezing his eyes tight as he nuzzles into your shoulder. “You are taking me so well.”

You do as he says unthinkingly, gasping a breath and forcing yourself to relax as he presses inside of you inch by excruciating inch. You can't seem to decide if you want him to hurry up and get it over with or go slow and gentle, and you keep alternating between twitching back on his cock and flinching away from it. Tsu’tey, however, is careful to keep a very medium pace; he pushes evenly and steadily until he's seated inside of you, hunched over your back, and then pauses to let you adjust.

As you tremble, face pressed into the floor as your pussy flutters frantically around his cock, Tsu’tey presses soft, insistent kisses all around your back and shoulders. It feels as though you’re trying to squeeze his cock right off, and he grunts a moan into the soft flesh of your bare back as you finally begin to ease up around him.

Then, finally, he begins to move.

"Fuck!" You gasp, squirming a little as he starts up at a steady pace.

When his hands come down to grip your hips and keep you in place, you grab at the leaf-padded floor, fingers scrabbling for purchase as the thrusting of his hips rocks your whole body forward.

He's barely started fucking you at all, but Tsu’tey’s thoughts are already scattered and his body feels like it's close to overheating already. There’s something about seeing you so hungry for him that sends him wild – he’s never taken you from behind before, but the view of your ass stuck up in the air as your cunt sucks him so greedily makes his head spin.

"You feel so good," Tsu’tey murmurs into the side of your throat before biting at it, "So tight around me. Oh, fuck, that's it."

Each thrust pushes you further up the floor, until you’re forced to stop grabbing at the leaf-padding and instead to reach behind you and grab at one of his hands. He takes your hand eagerly, wrapping your odd little five-fingered hand in his own four-fingered one and pinning it to the floor as his other hand uses your hip to pull you back into him. You moan quite happily as you bury your face into the leaf-padding as he fucks you into the floor.

It doesn’t take long before you’re pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts as best you can, and he bares his teeth at the sight beneath him. You’re just adorable – you glance over your shoulder and smile dazedly as you tighten up around him. He makes a soft sound of pleasure and wraps his arm firmly around your stomach to keep you close to him.

“Come on, ma’yawne,” He rumbles, nipping lightly at the juncture of your bare shoulder as you shudder beneath him. “Talk to me.”

You manage an embarrassingly breathless little moan in response, and Tsu’tey snorts a wild sort of laugh. It feels a little as though he's coming apart at the seams. Tsu’tey is big, a fact which is apparently emphasised even further in this position, and it's overwhelming but it's so good — you feel so delightfully perfect, all wrapped around him like a vice as he fills you up.

He must be hitting a spot inside you that makes your legs go weak, because your jaw is slack and you keep making senseless little gasping sounds as you go limp as he fucks into you. It’s so sweet that he thinks momentarily about relenting, but you had asked for this. You did not want him to be gentle, not tonight.

"I didn't hear you." He says, a warning in his voice. His fingers weave into the roots of your hair and fist at the base of your skull, before he pulls your head back so that your face is no longer buried in the floor. “I want to hear you talk to me, my girl.”

"Oh, fucking goddamn shit-" You manage to choke out. His hand pulling your hair has somehow caused you to go semi-boneless as he fucks into you.

He picks up his pace, his hips rolling into yours so that your breath is catching in your chest and your eyes are rolling wildly. When his hand slips under you to start playing with your clit, you make a soft, broken-sounding moan and throw your head back eagerly.

Tsu’tey is so close to coming that his head is actually swimming, his thoughts slow as molasses as every nerve and synapse tunes into you beneath him so that the only thing he can actually focus on is the feel of you gasping and writhing below. He has always taken mating with you seriously, but right now it feels as though his only purpose is touching and stroking and fucking you so good that you forget everything other than him.

“Oh god,” You wheeze, your little hand squeezing tight around his fingers as his other hand uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into his thrusts. “Oh god, oh god, oh god-”

He recognises that frantic edge to your voice, and he bares his teeth in pleasure as he realises just how close you are to coming. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, and he can feel the way they begin to tighten and draw up as his thrusts get faster. He’s close himself, his teeth practically buzzing with his oncoming orgasm, but he clenches his jaw as he attempts to hold it off. He wants so desperately to come inside you, but only after he’s experienced you creaming and squealing around his cock.

He adjusts his angle just slightly, but it's enough to have you dropping bonelessly back to the floor as you gasp.

"Fuck, there, don't stop!"

He snickers, though it trails off into a winded sort of snarl. His bossy, demanding little demon of a mate. Your orders only make his cock harder, and he lets out a whole body rumble as he feels his cock start to pulse inside your soft, wet, tight insides. He needs you to come now, before he completely loses his mind.

“Come, ma’yawntutsyìp, my precious one,” He grunts, leaving nipping kisses along the length of your spine. “I want to feel your release around me.”

The combination of his cock rubbing and grinding against the soft spongey part inside of you and the messy stimulation of your clit has your legs trembling and pussy quivering wildly. It feels like you’re being strung tighter and tighter under him as your orgasm draws closer and your breath begins coming in rapid pants.

You just manage to get out the words "Oh, yes-!" before the pleasure growing in your belly seems to crest and your back bows as you start to cum. All of the pressure that's been building up in your body is set free with the sweetest release, made all the sweeter by the fact that Tsu’tey keeps rocking into you the whole way through, the heavy head of his cock grinding hard against your G-spot the whole time.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open as your orgasm rocks through you, and Tsu’tey watches with wide eyes and avid interest as your entire little body shudders and shakes beneath him.

“Yes,” He breathes, his whole face contorting in toe-curling pleasure as your cunt clenches and ripples around him. “Yes, my love, so good.”

Your orgasm seems to last forever, leaving your chest heaving and back glittering with sweat, but eventually you reach back and slap at his thigh.

“Turn me around,” You wheeze, sounding winded. “Keep going, I want you to come in me-”

Fuck, how he loves it when you make demands. He doesn’t even wait for you to finish speaking before he pulls out, gripping your hips and flipping you around so that you’re on your back. He pushes back in immediately, snarling out a desperate groan as his cock splits you open all over again, you wrapping him up all snug and tight inside.

One of his hands snakes under your back and curls around your waist to pull you up against him as he pounds into you. With the other arm, he's balanced himself on his forearm beside your head for leverage as he drives into you hard and fast. He is still conscious of your limits, of your soft and fragile little human body, but his head is reeling from the sheer sensation and from the squealing little moans that are escaping your mouth. He’s still careful not to hurt you, but he’s also rolling his hips into your more frantically than he’s ever done before.

When you hike your little legs up over Tsu’tey’s narrow hips and squeeze tight around him, he lets out a rather wrecked, desperate sounding whimper. He drops his head to your chest, shoving the woven chest covering out of the way so that he can suck one of your tits into his mouth, sloppily rolling your nipple around on his tongue and clutching at your ass with one hand when you arch into him.

“Oh, fuck,” You gasp, arching your back so that your breasts are pushed further into his face. Your voice is hoarse — you sound absolutely wrecked. “Oh god, yes, please-”

He's hovering right on the precipice of orgasm — it's obvious by his desperate open-mouthed panting, the way he hunches over as his thrusting starts to turn clumsy, and the way he's messily sucking at your tits.

What really pushes him over the edge, to his honest surprise, is when you moan out, “Fuck, I.. Tsu’tey, I really love you-”

Tsu’tey lets out a choked, desperate groan before dropping his forehead to your breastbone as he comes inside of you. It’s like a wave of white rushes through his mind, wiping everything clean inside his head as he strains desperately against you. The motion of his hips stutters and falters as his brow pinches, and he lets out a long, low moan as he grasps at you, his eyes squeezing shut tight as he feels his cum flood your cunt and overflow, dribbling down your ass.

"Oh." He groans, shivering as his elbows give out and he drops down on top of you so that you’re plastered together from head to toe. He tucks his face into your neck and kisses under your ear, enjoying the heat from your overworked, sweaty bodies while also being hyper-conscious of crushing you.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, which makes your bodies slide slickly together whenever either of you move. Tsu’tey’s hand drifts down over your ass, and he squeezes lazily at the soft, squishy flesh there.

“Are you well, my mate?” He rumbles, still a little dazed as he lifts his head to squint down at you. “Did I- are you hurt?”

You’re staring at the ceiling, mouth softly ajar as you take deep, heaving breaths. His question makes you laugh, though it’s a quiet, breathless little sound.

“No,” You whisper, your mouth curving in a dopy sort of smile. “Only sore in the best way. Fuck, that was good.”

The positive affirmation is exactly what he needed to hear, and he feels his tail begin to sway in slow satisfaction. You had been right, after all – you could take it, and you were not necessarily as delicate as he had feared after your injury. The lazy, contented smile on your face only reassures him further that you are happy and unscathed.

He pulls out carefully, his ears twitching as he leaves your perfect, wet warmth. You hiss at the sensation too, and he rumbles a quiet apology before running the pads of his fingers over your swollen, puffy pussy; his come is dripping slowly out of you, and he rubs absently at the wet white trails to massage it into your skin.

“Bring me to the bed,” You say, though it lacks the demanding edge of the previous requests you had made. You sound sleepy, as though he had entirely worn you out.

His mouth twitches, and he reaches down to scoop you into his arms. You go easily, your head rolling around on your neck as you nuzzle into his chest. To his surprise, his own knees feel a little jelly-like when he moves to stand and put weight on them. Damn, he doesn’t think an orgasm has ever left him reeling like this afterwards.

When he lays you out on the tawtute-style bed he had made for you out of plant fibres and leaves, he crawls up next to you and stretches out, his tail undulating in lazy satisfaction. You roll over and shove your face up against his still glistening chest, burrowing close to him.

“Told you I could take it.” You say. You sound exhausted, but so damn pleased with yourself.

Tsu’tey just laughs, a tired sort of chuckle as he nuzzles his nose into your sweet-smelling hair.

“You take it so well, ma’yawntutsyìp,” He assures you fondly, pressing a little kiss to the top of your small, blunt little ear.

When he takes your hand and pulls it up to his face, he gives a small smile and presses his mouth to the near-invisible remnants of bruising around your wrist. He bares his sharp teeth against your fragile skin as he murmurs, “And I love you too.”

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey smut #tsu'tey #avatar wotw #avatar x reader #na'vi x human #na'vi x reader #terato #fics #tsu'tey fic #alien x human #avatar 2 #avatar 2009

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notquitecanon · 10 months

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Insufferably Admirable // Astarion x Reader

Summary: After a restful day turns into a bloody night, your unspoken yet painfully obvious dedication to Astarion has put you in what should be a harder choice. Once Astarion realizes just how far you'd go for him, he has to begin to confront the feelings and realizations he's been ignoring for a while. OR that time You figured out the most effective way to heal a vampire and Astarion got emotional about it

Set at the end of Act 1, but not quite act two. Pre-confession but it's obvious they have some sort of feelings for each other

TW: canon typical violence, blood & blood drinking(obvi this is an Astarion fic), no use of Tav or (Y/N), one use of technical self harm (c*tting) but not in a self mutilation way??, mentions of manipulation obvi, reader might be a little too willing to help (totally not be projecting what???)

this is my first time writing anything for Astarion after hyper fixating on him for a month so please be gentle. I know it's a bit all over the place. (yes I could have completely left out the first half, but there isn't much actual dialogue in the second half and I like to put this guy in situations)

"Remind me again why you insisted on coming with me? I figured you’d be ripe for a day to lay around camp and let us do all the heavy lifting." You grumbled, scanning the crowded streets for a merchant. The goal was simple: get to the nearest village, sell off the extra weight, use the gold to stock the necessary supplies, and whatever the gold couldn’t buy… well, acquire it by any means necessary. No matter your path, through the shadows or the Underdark, you'd need to be prepared.

Gale had gone to pilfer for useful scrolls and maybe an enchanted item to snack on. Lae’zel and Shadowheart to a blacksmith for specialty arrows, useful armor, and any other weapons that caught their eyes. Karlach had carried the two trunks and barrel of items you had collected from your adventure thus far, finding you a wheelbarrow before heading back to camp to help Wyll with his preparations. Halsin… had taken his wild form and disappeared into the forest. Originally, you had intended to do your tasks alone, until-

"My dear, I’m always ripe for a lay." Astarion twisted your words with a smirk, easily dodging the hand that reached to swat his chest. With a short laugh, he answered your question, his theatrics only increasing to more you argued, "To begin with, Someone- my fabulous self- had to make sure you didn’t get the whole group wrapped up in another laundry list of side quests- who knows what trouble you could have found if you were left all by your lonesome? A gnoll den? A kraken in the pond? an old woman’s wagon with a broken wheel? a kitten up a tree? An orphanage with a leaky roof? Another cult for us to dismantle? Another temple to drop on me? Where would it end? You’re incapable of turning people away, it’s one of your insufferably admirable qualities."

"It’s called being kind, you dramatic elf." You grumbled, not prepared for the in depth analysis of your character. Trying not to focus so much on the fact he’d called something about you admirable.

"Second, knowing you, you’d sell all this off and still manage to come back to camp with them full. Honestly, pet, how have you managed to collect this much junk? You don’t even have a bag of holding." Astarion scoffed, using a single pale finger to peek under the lid of the barrel. It was just barely containing the countless daggers, goblin bows, pairs of leather armors, and dusty sandals. Your cheeks burned hot- maybe you had a habit of being overzealous in how eagerly you pilfered through all the crates you came across, checking bodies for anything valuable, and demanding the vampire to pick every locked chest the party uncovered. Hells only knew the thrill you got when you would find a buried chest.

"You never know when you might need something!" You reasoned, but swatted him away to hastily shut the barrel before the contents could spill out. It had taken you the better part of the night to pack it full of all the things your companions had convinced you to get rid of. The pale elf rolled his eyes, brushing past you so gracefully you didn’t feel his fingers in your pocket.

"Really, my sweet? When, pray tell, might we need the collection of rusty necklaces you’ve amassed." Astarion held the bronze and silver necklaces up to the light, the red and blue stones sparkling despite the rust. His voice always like velvet, ruby eyes alight with teasing, "Far be it from me to criminalize accessorizing, but that darling neck of yours is tempting enough already."

"Astarion!" You cringed, hearing your voice almost whine. Damn him for having that effect, so you cleared your throat as you snatched the jewelry back, "They are useful when we can sell them for gold."

Astarion, having gotten the reaction he wanted, let you shove the necklaces back in a pocket before glaring at him, though it didn’t hold much actual malice, "Well, come on then, let’s sell the sandals for all the riches the village has to offer us."

—

An afternoon later, you were smiling smugly as you watched Astarion grumble. Between all the goods and six different merchants, you were leaving with an additional 9,000 in gold, not to mention the additional 3,000 Astarion had managed to pickpocket while you bartered, and the items the two of you had managed to swipe. You felt particularly vindicated as he complained about the weight of the coins in his pack.

"I’ll buy you something pretty in Baldur’s Gate." You cooed teasingly, to ‘appease’ him. Astarion spared you a deadpan glance before standing to leave, only making you giggle all the more, "Let’s get back to camp."

Astarion caught your eyes once more, scowl softening out at the sight of your bright smile. He was just about to say something sickeningly sweet and perhaps more than a touch vulgar when his eyes flitted up to something, pointed ears twitching at something you couldn’t quite hear. Until you could.

The door of the jeweler you had swindled burst open, a strangled voice shrieking, "THIEVES! SOMEONE CATCH THEM!"

Astarion must have been rubbing off on you, because for a moment you tried to feign confusion, looking around for the ‘culprits’ as if the dwarf wasn’t pointing directly at you. Not that it did much good as several passerbys began to circle around the two of you.

"Everyone’s so touchy about their personal belongings these days." The rogue scoffed. Astarion grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him, so that your back was pressed to his and no one could sneak up on you. In his other hand, a dagger had already appeared.

You sighed in defeat, taking your bow off your back, "No killing."

"No promises."

Compared to the goblin camp or fighting through the githyanki creche, disarming and incapacitating untrained townspeople and barely trained guards was barely a warm up. Still, Astarion never left your side, an increasingly common occurrence when you found yourself in tight situations. Together, it didn’t take long to put distance between yourselves and your attackers, managing to get far enough to escape to the fight. Deflecting one last blow as the two of you passed by an open tavern, you incapacitated a rather pitiful guard with a blunt thunk from the pommel of your dagger. Taking one relieved breath, you tried not to focus too much of the trail of bleeding, unconscious bodies you and the rogue had left behind in your escape attempt.

"Best we stick to the shadows before we attract more attention." Astarion mused with a cruel smirk, grabbing your sleeve and using it to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun. The rogue only chuckled at your curses, giving some inane quip about the crime of dirtying his ensemble and how blood someone always looked better on you, "Now, believe what I said about you finding trouble? Back to camp before you find more."

Before you could wrench your arm back or remind him that he was the only who got caught stealing, he pulled you off the main road into the alley adjacent- unaware of the attention that had already been attracted from inside the tavern.

____

Ambushed in the night.

A whole hunting party of Gur hunters. Willing to purge your party as they slept.

And they were calling Astarion the monster. Fortunately, Scratch was an excellent guard dog. Waking the entire camp when the hunters tried to creep where you slept. Just as fortunately, there wasn’t a soul in camp that didn’t sleep without at least a dagger under their pillow.

Your camp had become a bloodbath in the dim glow of the campfire. You had used the book you had fallen asleep reading as an improvised weapon, throwing it so hard it broke the first hunter’s nose. Lae’zel was single handedly mowing through three hunter with her long sword. Spells and incantations sent flashes of light from Gale and Shadowheart’s part of camp, and fire and brimstone lit up Karlach’s. There was yelling and cursing echoing in the cool night air, orders to take the vampire spawn alive and to kill the rest.

And Astarion? Their target?

He was where he always was during a fight these days. Right beside you, like a pale, snarky shadow. He had been the one to press your sword into your hand so you’d have more than just your dagger. With him, you slashed and sliced anything that came near. Until the bastard appeared out of no where, squeezing in between you and the rogue. You would have applauded (more likely cursed) the near perfect use of an invisibility charm- had it not been for the poison-dipped stake raised against Astarion.

This hunter was different, you could see it in his eyes. They were somehow devoid of life and yet also simmering with rage as they trained on your snow haired companion. This hunter didn’t plan to take Astarion back to Baldur’s Gate, not alive at least. He didn’t care about whatever orders they had, or what consequences would come for disobeying them. He only cared about driving the stake into Astarion’s heart.

Astarion’s eyes went wide as well at the sight of the stake, realizing as you did that this was no longer just a kidnapping, it would be an assassination. Your thundering heart stuttered, blood going supernova in your veins before freezing to ice as your mind whirled through a hundred different possibilities and also went blank. Your own opponent, along with years of learned strategy, were instantly forgotten as blind instinct took over. Every ounce of strength and speed you had was directed into a desperate lunge. In your desperation, you really weren’t sure if your goal was to tackle the hunter, grab his arm, tackle Astarion, or maybe even take the stake to your chest instead- you decided to choose along the way, as long as it ended with Astarion alive(ish) and well.

You managed to close the distance, one hand planted firmly to Astarion’s chest shoving him further and the other clamping onto the leather of the hunter’s gauntlet, the same arm poising the stake. With a feral sounding shriek, you pushed his arm so his aim was off. At the same time, your original opponent, frustrated at being forgotten, cast a wave of thunder that sent all three of you flying.

Astarion, the Gur, and you flew backwards a good fifteen feet, the thunder shaking you to your very bones and splitting your ears. The breath was knocked out of you so hard you thought your poor lungs might collapse and you weren’t able to tell if it was the spell or the impact that did it. You didn’t have time to contemplate, the moment you were able, you scrambled onto your knees. With the same feral tenacity from earlier, you grabbed the hunter by the front of his leather armor, nails leaving scarily deep tracks as you hauled him off your vampiric companion. With your new opponent, you rolled both your bodies until you were on top of him, knee to his chest. Seeing the look in your eyes, the rage left his own, pure survival instinct taking over. You didn’t even feel the sting of the slicing blow across your shoulder, too consumed with a singular mission. It was Astarion’s dagger you had snatched from the ground on the way that delivered the quick death blow. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You expected to hear something from Astarion- a snarky comment about your lack of technique, a snide remark about his assailant, or even just a stream of petty curses- but he was silent. You turned back to him, only to have dread flood every cell in your body.

Nothing else mattered anymore, not the fight, not your injuries, and especially not your forgotten original hunter. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You barely noticed.

The moment you’d disposed of Astarion’s assailant, you were scrambling back towards the rogue, who was laying all too still. At first, you hesitated to even touch him as if that might make it worse. You called his name once, and then again when you were able to gingerly lay hands on him- one hand to his chest and the other pushing some curls out of his eyes. The stake, what should have been an almost useless weapon against anyone else, was still buried in his chest, piercing his favorite frilled collar shirt.

"No… Astarion-" Your voice was breaking, thick and raw. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the stake, protruding from his chest, the poison staining the white linen of his shirt a sickly green. The hand on his chest balled into a fist, bunching the unsoiled fabric in your grip, but something caught your attention. The tiniest candle light of hope in the rapidly encroaching darkness of grief.

Your hand was directly over his undead heart. Anytime you touched him, your hand always fell directly over his heart. When you teasingly swatted at his chest, when you needed to steady yourself against him, when you needed to catch you balance… you always sought out his heart- subconsciously, instinctually, always his heart. Your hand was over his heart, and that gods-damned stake was four inches to the right. A tiny light, but a light none the less. It was then you realized you were calling the wrong name.

"SHADOWHEART!"

None of your companions had ever heard your voice that desperate, that scared. All their heads snapped to where they had last seen you, finding Astarion pulled to your chest as you wrenched the stake out of the spawn. Astarion stirred only long enough the let our a gurgling shout that fizzled into a groan at the pain, and you could only hope he heard your soft apologies before you started barraging the vampire with healing cantrips. You didn’t stop until the words held no more magic, your supply of magic tapped for the night.

The night air had changed, no longer fueled by adrenaline and challenge, now it was thick with urgency and fear. Each of your companions starting fighting towards the two of you, and when you locked watery eyes with Shadowheart you found her clearing her path with her spear. She had stopped using magic to fight, saving it all for Astarion.

"I’m coming! Hold on!" She promised as Karlach fell in beside her, battle axe taking over and sending two hunters to the grave together. Scratch and the owlbear cub had taking a lesson from Halsin and formed up beside you, growling into the night with hackles raised and feathers ruffled.

"Just hold on, Astarion." You relayed to the vampire, who was completely limp against you his back to your chest, head tilted back against your shoulder which bared his neck to you, showing the fang marks on his pale skin. If you were capable of humor, you would have laughed about the reversal of roles, it was usually you baring your veins to him. But at the moment, his lack of movement wasn’t particularly amusing, so instead you laced his fingers through yours, hoping the warmth would bring him some comfort. You pressed your cheek against his white curls, using your other hand to brandish his dagger just incase anyone got too close, and whispered all the reasons he was going to be okay. And that’s how you stayed until camp quietened and Shadowheart slid to a stop in front of you.

___

Hours later, Shadowheart had used every healing and restoration spell she knew, not stopping even when she began to sway and sweat. Halsin had offered his magic and healing herbs, Karlach made sure there was always a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean rags available, and you hadn’t missed Gale trying to hide the scroll of reviving from you as he slipped it to Shadowheart. Everyone in camp had been quick to gather all the healing potions, depositing them at the entrance of Astarion’s tent. Wyll and Lae’zell had slipped into the tree line to make sure the ambush was well and truly taken care of.

And you? Their appointed ‘fearless’ leader? You had gone uncharacteristically silent. Your heart hadn’t left your throat, clenching painfully every time they jostled the rogue. Your hands were shaking too much, both from fear and white hot rage, to really help the two more experienced healers of the group. And the thought of being too far from Astarion made your stomach turn, so you kept rooted like a tree. But, you were grateful, truly, for all of them. Even if in the moment, all you could do was sit beside Astarion and pray to any God or Devil that would listen. You felt like a wild animal in a cage and a helpless child at the same time, your insides very well might vibrate out of the body if you didn’t melt into the soil first.

The vampire needed all the help he could get. Aside from the occasional heartbreaking groan of pain or agony driven writhing, Astarion was eerily still. Barely breathing, less so than usual. His already pale, chilled skin had taken on a stony complexion, almost gray. And despite the inability to run a fever, there was a sheen of sweat over his face, clammy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t allowed them to undress him all the way, but part his shirt had been cut away to reveal the stab wound. It was deep, weeping Astarion’s already dark blood, and stretching out from the injury were black, twisting varicose veins that afforded you the cruel visual of the poison spreading. You wanted to take Gale’s revival scroll, use it on the hunter, and revoke the kindness of your mercifully quick death.

"It’s like the effect of our magic is being dampened." Shadowheart huffed, hands glowing as she cast another restoration spell. The sweat on Astarion’s brow subsided briefly before returning. Halsin nodded beside her, taking a deep sniff of the stake.

"His lack of blood isn’t moving the potions or antidote through his body fast enough, and this poison isn’t doing any favors." The druid thought aloud, taking some of his herbs to make a paste, "It doesn’t matter how many we pour down his throat if his body can’t absorb them."

Shadowheart’s worried gaze flickered to you for a moment, before settling back on Halsin, "We’ll figure something out."

You knew she was saying that more for your benefit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the pity. Instead, your grip tightened on Astarion’s hand as you swiped a clean rag to dab at his face. There was one more round of healing incantations and one more bottle of healing potion nursed into Astarion’s mouth. Your jaw twitched, watching most of it fall from the corner of his mouth. The same trail your own blood usually made after he fed.

"I’m tapped." Shadowheart sighed almost ruefully, the glow around her flickering and then fading, falling back on her heels. Halsin stood, stooped slightly in the low ceiling of the tent, turning to you.

"We’ve done everything we can do. We’ll try again with fresh minds in the morning. For now the best he, and we, can do is rest." His voice was calming, as if he thought you might start screaming again, but you just nodded, muttering something along the lines of thanks for trying, and not meeting either of their eyes as they ducked out of the tent.

Since you had belligerently refused any of their magical attempts to heal your shoulder, Gale had done a rather pitiful job of wrapping it, taking some pointers from Karlach along the way. The wizard offered you a tight smile and a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder before pressing a bottle of healing potion into your hand, "This one is for you. You’re no good to him if you bleed out all over the floor of his tent. We all know how Astarion feels about waste."

"Yeah- fancy boy will be starving when he wakes up." Karlach’s chipper voice was still laced with a sting of concern. The tiefling didn’t touch you for fear of burning you, but did leave you with some roasted meat and a carafe of water from earlier in the night, "And it wouldn’t hurt for you to eat something either, soldier."

Then you were left alone with your thoughts, hunched next to Astarion’s side, tired eyes examining the bottle after confirming the rise and fall of his chest. In your hand, the potion glowed slightly with the subtlest warmth, the scarlet liquid seeming to have a mind of its own as it swirled in glittering patterns behind the glass. Your injuries were meager, this little bottle of healing would have you as good as new. Bitterly, you flicked your eyes to the numerous empty potion bottles in the corner that had barely slowed Astarion’s bleeding. Your hand closed around it as you cast another look to the Vampire spawn beside you. His breaths were shaky and shallow even after Shadowheart and Halsin had exhausted every last bit of magic they'd had. Now in the quietest parts of the night, or maybe the darkest hours of the morning, your thoughts swirled, desperate for any sort of plan to latch onto. You had to do something.

For you, Gale had said, No good to him if you bled out… He’d be starving, Karlach had been joking, His lack of blood wasn’t moving the potions enough to be effective, that had been Halsin’s hypothesis.

Blood. He needed blood.

The revelation was like being dropped into a freezing lake, determination razing the fearful lethargy out of your soul. With your teeth, you pried the cork out and downed the first circular bottle, the overly sweet taste a stark contrast to the somber mood of the night. For good measure, you did the same with a potion of superior healing and two bottles of general poison antidote, slamming them down so fast you had to ignore the churning in your stomach. You’d loot twenty more goblin caves to make up for the dent in supplies if you had to, in that moment you just didn’t care. You waited a moment, begging the powers that be for your ragtag plan to work, not so patiently watching the bruises on your wrist until they started to fade.

You felt it, the moment that you had been completely healed and there was no where else for that magic to go. And then, you wrapped your arms under Astarion’s, heaving him against your chest. You bared your neck, letting gravity gently swing Astarion's nose to meet your pulse point, his silvery lashes tickling your jaw. He stirred slightly, groaning at the movement, pressing himself into your warmth before stilling again. Was he too far gone to realize what was being offered?

Realizing you’d need to play into his vampiric insticts, you huffed, shattering one of the empty vials against a stone, struggling to do so and keep his deadweight in place. Taking a shard, it wasn’t hesitation but a moment of stilling your shaking hand before you pressed a shallow cut to your neck, right above where his lips rested.

You hissed at the haphazard sting, not as gentle as the pinprick of his fangs were in the night, feeling the blood instantly pool at the seam, a single red ribbon dripping before the potion healed the scratch, "C’mon, Astarion-"

The moment his name left your lips, or maybe it was the moment a drop of your blood hit his, regardless you could feel his instinct, that sanguine hunger, take over. The soft lips at your neck were replaced with dagger sharp fangs digging into where the small cut had been. The sound you let out was somewhere between a gasp of pain and sob of relief as you barred him against yourself, fists clutching into the back of his shirt like it would keep both of you rooted to each other. Somewhere, in the back on your mind, you thought about the irony of the position, being so afraid to let him slip away, like a rabbit latching onto a snake for fear of the serpent starving. Even if it meant being consumed.

In that moment, you were so relieved he’d started feeding that you didn’t care that his fangs dug in deeper than they ever had before, much more animalistic than his usual polite nibble. You didn’t dare flinch or wince, in case that might break the spell. Instead, you focussed keeping the both of you upright, one of your arms wrapped under his own, your fingers splayed across his ribs, and your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. The angle had his silvery curls dusting your fingertips and your thumb caressing the sharpest part of his jaw. Never had you been so happy to feel that throbbing numbness in your neck. Astarion’s chin prodded further into your neck, deepening the hold he had, and with his own shaky breath, he swallowed the first mouthful of your blood.

The hand at his ribs clenched, pulling him impossibly closer and twisting his shirt into your grip again as your pulse began to speed up. The increase of your heart rate only seemed to encourage the vampire, teeth sinking ever deeper to draw more blood flow. Clenching your jaw, you forced your muscles not to tense, it would only make it hurt more. This mouthful was quicker, Astarion seemed to be actively drawing it out of you instead of just waiting for it. He swallowed again, gaining the strength to snake his arms around you. It wasn’t a strong hold at first, but one arm snaked around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, those long fingers finding their usual place in the locks of your hair. You couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped, relishing the cool touch. Your voice stoked another fire in him, provoking another instinct, your blood provided the strength for his grip to harden, becoming more cage like. As if he needed to worry about you trying to escape.

He swallowed again, and the numbness spread, not just in your neck but into your cheeks and across your chest. Blood was racing, coursing through you and into him, and with it all the magic of the healing potions. You could feel him getting his legs underneath him, untangling himself from you. At the same time, it was getting harder to hold your arm up, the numbness had reached your fingertips leaving them fumbling at his curls before falling to his shoulder. Another long drink and you found your eyes starting to flutter, everything was starting to feel cold as a shiver shook your body. Astarion, against two centuries of vampiric instinct, started to pull back, and you didn’t stop him, but didn’t let him go far either. He was mostly supporting himself now, which was a relief because a fair bit of focus was freshly delegated to preventing yourself from swaying.

"Take all you need, ’Stari-" You meant for your voice to be assuring and strong, but it came out breathy and slightly slurred. Astarion pulled away, the movement bringing you mostly out of your stupor. His ruby eyes were as sharp as ever once again, even if the shadows under his eyes were still too dark for your liking, and they stared into your own half lidded eyes. Other than the deep purple shadows, the ashen complex had started to even out, the sweat on his brow had faded away, and when you dropped your gaze, you noticed the twisting black veins were starting to recede and fade. Hells, you could get up and dance (very briefly before you passed out).

Even, with a foot in the grave, more dead than usual, and covered in both of your bloods he was unfairly beautiful. His eyes narrowed on your dopey smile, as if he your relief was a symptom of too much blood loss. If that was the effect of four swallows, just a little more would flush out the poison completely, "I can take it, love, just please let me help you."

Astarion never considered himself to be someone that had to be coaxed into receiving a gift, and you were offering him one so sweetly, practically begging him. After 200 years of rats and spiders, you had put literal magic in your veins for him. Magic that was bringing him back from death to his usual state of undead. He could feel it bringing his strength back, allowing all the magic the cleric and druid had poured into him to finally take some affect. Your blood, his first thinking blood, was always delicious- sweet and metallic, a delicate blend of all the good tastes, something so intrinsically you. With the potions infused, though, if Astarion was to hazard guess what sunlight tasted like- this would be it. How could he refuse?

Before he went back in, he placed a reverent kiss to the marks he had left in your neck, gingerly lapping at the wounds before sinking his fangs back into your tender flesh. This time, it wasn’t a gasp or sob, but a mewl, your frigid fingers once again digging into the flounced collar his shirt. If you both lived until morning, you were sure he’d gripe for hours about all the wrinkles you’d put in his favorite (only) shirt. Probably throw a proper fit about the stake hole.

Now, as the potions effects dwindled in your own body, you could properly feel the drain. The coldness crept up from your extremities but didn’t counteract the burn in your muscles, making it harder and harder to suppress the shivers. Your breathing was quick almost a pant, but you still felt like you weren't getting any oxygen. If you were thinking rationally, if you hadn’t gone through the brief grief of thinking you’d lost him, you would have realized you need to push him away, that you were approaching your limit. But you weren’t thinking rationally, no. You still were too busy grinning- as your hand had fallen from his collar, it grazed across the wound, now fully closed. Just a little more, you promised yourself. You felt him swallow more, he held himself up completely on his own allowing you to lean into him.

Astarion was okay, more than just on the mend, he was alive and strong, the potions and magic were working, were the thoughts that were reverberating through your head as things started to feel farther away. Your desperation had melted away, leaving a grateful smile in its wake. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but you let Astarion take on more and more of your weight, barely aware of his fangs in your neck anymore, not quite hearing Scratch and the cub whining outside, the shivering even began to subside as it seemed to take too much energy.

Earlier, you had drug him to you and held him against your chest almost crying. But, as more of your blood flowed through him, it had become juxtaposed. Astarion held you in place, leaning over you for the best angle at your neck. It was his arms that kept you from falling over, his firm hand that kept your head from lolling too far back. His bite became less fervent, his grip less cage like and more affectionate. His survival instincts started to give way to civility and charm. You barely noticed as he twisted himself so he could slowly, gently lay you down onto the bedroll that had moments ago been his sickbed. He laid you on your back, onto the generous stack of pillows he kept in his tent. He tangled his fingers into yours, just as you had done for him, his knees holding him in a predatory crawl over you, all without breaking from your neck.

Barely registering the softness, it was the thud of your other hand against the floor that roused you, just a bit. It was also what drew Astarion’s attention, it took everything in him to withdraw his fangs. He gave each puncture would a diligent cleaning with his tongue before pulling away completely, lest he lose control and dive right back in. (Really, how could one person be that tempting?)

But, you had arguably saved his life, it’d be terribly impolite of him to kill you. When Astarion’s eyes met yours, your gaze was more than half lidded as you watched him- what little of your eyes he could see were glossy and fighting to stay focused, he could hear your heartbeat markedly fainter than he was comfortable with.

You were watching him as intently as you could. In the dim lantern light of his tent, surrounded by potion bottles and bloody rags, Astarion was up and moving and breathing again. Revived and strong, his eyes practically glowing scarlet, and, if you really focussed, you could make out the tips of his ears becoming pink. Something that only happened when he was freshly well fed, nothing was left of his stab wound but the hole in his shirt, the frayed edges dyed from the poison and his blood. He could have looked like a angel, complete with the fire’s reflection creating a halo effect on his snowy curls, had it not been for the sheen of sticky blood drenching his chin and neck. Your blood- the blood that gave him enough strength to heal. How could you not smile?

Astarion tried to come up with a snarky comment, but for once, nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept glancing between your intertwined fingers, glassy eyes, and that idiotic little smile. Your giddiness was beginning to unnerve him, had you been charmed or perhaps taken a hit to the head? With the parasite, he reached out briefly into your mind. His brow twitched when he was only met with waves of relief and gratitude, you were too tired for structured thought, but too relieved to give into the exhaustion. How could someone on the verge on exsanguination look so happy? And why in the nine hells did it seem to be directed towards his well being?

The vampire was stricken, taking count of everything you’d truly done that night alone: fought beside him, tried to take the death blow in his place, comforted him, held his hand, cleaned him up, hadn’t let the others undress him anymore than necessary, stayed with him, circumvented his vampirism to find a way to heal him, and had genuinely tried to bleed yourself dry for him. Hell, you’d cut your own neck for him- not even metaphorically, but literally cut your throat for him. He could feel your warmth, your kindness and everything good about you settling into his very marrow. Something uncomfortably… gooey… stirred in his chest, something more and more worrying common as of late, when it came to you. Had his manipulation really worked so well? A feeling too close to sharp guilt gnawed at that warm gooey feeling. Was it really manipulation anymore? Gods, your morality was infecting him.

“This is that Insufferabe admirability I was talking about ." He muttered into the tent, shaking his head as he watched your chest rise and fall, using his free hand tame some of the hair at your crown. It was then Astarion realized your eyes had slipped shut, your fingers, now just as cold as his, going limp against his. Weeks ago, he would have polished off the last of your blood and left you behind. But at present, he felt the sickening need to return even half the care you’d shown him. He’d have to dissect his emotions later. The rogue was glad the other companions had left supplies within arms reach, as it meant he could gather them without dropping your hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," He called quietly, gently pulling you back to the real world, pleased to watch your scrunch your nose in the exertion of waking back up. Finally, that contented little smile on your face slipped into a frown, a protest against his interruption of your sleep. Astarion’s smile was almost apologetic as he helped you into a slightly more upright position, "Not quite yet, little love. It’s your turn. No sharing this time."

Another healing potion was pressed into your hand and opened for you, and you allowed Astarion to guide it to your lips, his pale hand guiding your own. This time, the warmth of the elixir was welcome, a comfort instead of a taunt, assurance instead of a plea. Astarion carefully watched you as you swallowed the potion down, noting how you shivered less and a bit of color returned to your face. When the potion bottle was empty, he traded it for a small cup of water, keeping a guiding hand on the silver chalice he’d nicked from a tradesmen weeks ago until you had enough strength to hold it.

Though still exhausted and dizzy, you had the energy to throw him an obstinate look. Astarion feigned a dramatic sigh but kept a firm enough grip on you that you couldn’t lay back down, "All this for me, yet you won’t even let me give you water?"

Ignoring how it made the dizziness worse, you rolled your eyes, taking a few sips of the water at a time even if it was mostly just so he’d let you lay back down. Astarion was in one piece and you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything else. But, Astarion seemed very pleased with himself, squeezing your hand once again, "Good girl."

If you weren’t on the verge of blood loss, you could have choked on the water. Still, there was a part of you that whispered in relief he must be better if he’s back to teasing you. Astarion watched you take a few more sips before you sagged back against the pillows. Your eyes closed again, but your breathing was deeper now and the hand he held didn’t feel as cold. Outside, Scratch and the cub seemed appeased at your improvement as they stopped their pacing and whining to settle at the tent flap.

This time, he didn’t pull you back up, instead muttering to himself as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing his bite marks. No wonder you seemed so tired, they were much messier than usual. Vicious, was the better word. Not only had his two fangs pierced your delicate skin, but his bottom canine teeth had punctured through as well, and he could see the outline of his other teeth in the deep bruising grooves they had left behind. In unfortunate addition, it seemed in the height of his blood lust he’d made more than one bite, leaving your neck littered in marks. Astarion grimaced, it really was more of a mauling, “Apologies, darling, I’m not typically so brutish. Forgive me?"

Astarion pointedly ignored how his heart lifted at the slightest nod you gave him, instead focussing on cleaning you up as gently as possible. The potion had stopped the bleeding, and he watched as the wounds themselves were slowly closing. Each swipe of the rag was feather light, almost not even there. The elf noticed you give back into sleep, this time not bothering to wake you again. Instead he kept working and fussing until the only sign of his feeding was the stained neckline of your shirt. Then, he gently ran a clean, wet rag over your face and hands, taking away the evidence of your tears and worry. Finally, he threw a cloak over you like a blanket, to hopefully ward off the last of the shivers from the warmth he’d stolen from you.

Not stolen, he reminded himself, though the truth somehow felt more dangerous, it was freely given to him. The vampire settled in, laying across from you, the only part of you he could touch was the hand still holding his. Though, already in your sleep you had shifted towards him. Astarion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, the more he came to know you, the more he knew that you would give and give and give. Truly, he knew that he didn’t need to manipulate you anymore, maybe he never needed to, and for the first time in centuries, he didn’t want to just keep taking. He didn’t want to bleed you dry and loot you for all you were worth. Astarion was surprised to find he wanted give something back to you. He just needed to figure out what.

The nights events caught up to him once again as his eyes closed, listening to the evermore familiar sound of your heartbeat as it became steadier and the even sounds of your breathing as you slept, letting it guide him towards meditation.

Gods damn you and your insufferable admirability.

___

Part Two Here!

Again this was my first time writing for Astarion. I also tried to balance things into being equal parts in each persons perspective. I just love when two lovestruck idiots have to confront their own feelings about being in love.

#me when I can use both literal and metaphorical vampirism as an allegory of being consumed by love.#astarion x reader #astarion x you #Astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 fanfic #Astarion self insert

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bloop-bl00p · 2 months

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When you forget there’s sin in Seven Deadly Sins

[I guess this could be treated as part two of my rant about Hell’s ruling class.]

The Seven Sins are the embodiment of their vice, in a modern setting, they will probably be seeking to indulge in harmful activities themselves since they are immortal and can’t face consequences and influence others into falling into dangerous lifestyles. I can even see a scenario when each of them tries to make propaganda through the internet with platforms like Instagram or TikTok, like Beelzebub promoting Bezzle Juice except that it’s purposely made to be extremely addictive and one shot of it gets you hooked forever.

We’re gonna start with Lucifer, the only angel of the Seven. He’s a dreamer quirky cutie patootie with dePwezIOn that just wanted to give humanity Fwee Wil🥺.

What were Lucifer’s plans/dreams for humankind in the first place? He was dismissed as a troublemaker, okay…? What portrayed him as such? He’s a socially awkward silly guy but honestly, that’s all there is to his character. But I won’t get too deep with these questions maybe we’ll get more answers in Hazbin. However, what I can ask is…

How did Lucifer manage to find himself so close to The Garden of Eden? If I’m making something important I ain’t letting the petulant kid get close to it because… you know he might ruin it.

Elder or not Lucifer is still a Seraphim, did he not know that giving Free Will to humans would mess up everything? Even if HE didn't know what about the others? Were the angels even aware of Evil as a whole? If yes, why didn't they warn Lucifer before giving him access to Eden? Like “Hey dude the glowing red Tree in the middle of the Garden is bad news don’t let the mortals near it.” was it that hard?

Can someone explain to me how is this the embodiment of Pride? I personally don't see anything prideful in his attitude at all. Pride is the belief that you don’t need God in your spiritual journey, in a worst-case scenario, you think yourself above him. In the Bible, Lucifer was too Proud to bow before mankind and tried to overthrow God which led to his banishment. But since Viv totally changed the story and forgot to add the Pride elements, there’s nothing justifying Lucifer’s title as Pride incarnate.

TW: Mention of sexual assault/rape and a brief mention of other sexual practices.

Following with Asmodeus, why is he like this? Don't get me wrong, I can understand why he isn't a fan of rape as a whole, rape is rarely, dare I say never, about sexual craving, it’s about control. Val doesn't rape Angel Dust, and his employees because he feels needy, he assaults them because he knows that’ll break them psychologically and physically which makes them vulnerable to manipulation. Sexual assault as a whole is never about lust.

It makes sense if we drop out of the fact that Lust isn’t just physical but religiously speaking just an intense craving for something, like power or control. Viv took the easy way and reduced it to a physical craving so Asmodeus could be anti-rape I can’t blame her for that, it’s her ✨interpretation.✨

So Asmodeus is Pro Concent and it kinda makes sense. Since he’s the Prince of Lust, he technically should have influence over the culture in the Lust Ring and other species like Succubus should at least be weirded out by innuendo of non-consensual sex.

Well, shit.

“OooOoooOOH But Tiz is Not Rape!”

Compare the succubus’ abilities to aphrodisiacs and it all makes sense. Increasing someone’s libido without their consent alone is sexual misconduct proceeding to have sex with them later is rape. And it’s not the only instance of succubus assaulting people.

[Context: Ep3 S1, Verosika’s crew basically made condescending comments on how Moxie was cute and how they wanted to kiss him despite his discomfort and the fact that he mentioned being married. They still eventually kissed him by force and it was treated as a joke. “I care about male victims.” Sure we believe you.]

So Asmodeus is a hypocrite for giving succubus and incubus a way to get to Earth while knowing they are raping as many humans as possible.

“D3mOn @re BAAAAAAD Pweple So |t makse sense.☝️🤓”

I know, I wouldn’t complain that much if Asmodeus wasn’t painted as this cutie patootie lovely doe who is so in love with his lovely cute good boy partner.

Talking about partners, why does the Prince, no… why does LUST INCARNATE have ONE partner? The dude’s sex drive should be higher than the Olympus Mons and you’re telling me he doesn’t have a harem at disposition and he’s FAITHFUL?!! No free relationship, no hookups, no polyamorous relationship, and no mention of orgies he organizes to test the efficiency of his toys! Hell, we’re talking about Lust shouldn’t he be more inclined to have exhibitionist behavior (In recent episodes Lust’s citizens were desensitized about voyeurism so showing a bit of skin shouldn't be a problem)? Or, I don’t know, the ability to change his appearance and sex to appeal to a larger audience. Maybe the smoke secreted by his fire can serve as an aphrodisiac he only uses to put his partners in the mood (With their consent if she’s so attached to that idea.)

Viv, with two shows whose humor is mostly based on sex you certainly lack representations in terms of positive sexual activities, every time sex is mentioned in both of her projects it’s either a joke or diabolized. I’ve seen teens on Wattpad and AO3 writing foul smut with sexual practice so taboo it’ll make you gasp out loud! Take an example! (This was obliviously a joke but seriously, smut’s writers scare me with their tags.)

This leads us to Beelzebub, she’s supposed to be…. an animal tamer? She did not give off this vibe at all, she’s a party girl at best, stop saying things on Twitter Viv, and show it in your shows!

Is there a reason for her to be so nice? What do you mean you don’t want Bliztø to lose himself in alcohol and sex, you’re all about overindulgence. If anything she should actively invite people who are mentally distressed as they’ll be more willing to drink excessively in a “forget my life’s issues” type of way. This could also explain why so many people in her parties are minorities, Hellhounds and Imps are treated like shit by Hell’s society so being invited to one of Queen Bee’s parties will be a great honor and a way for them to forget how difficult their life is.

“E3RmS Actoualli, Bee ite the Viiiibe! S0 ze kant let Peple b3 s@d or ze will be sad too. ☝️🤓”

Ah… okay, still don't explain why she can’t be a bitch about it. Since she “eats the vibe” and feels for her people she could be affected by Blizt's destructive behavior and be absolutely furious someone is ruining her parties for her! Then she could have gotten to Loona and been like “Look your dad doesn't have the vibe I’m looking for so get him out unless you wanna learn what happen to party pooper.” implying that she will most likely kill him (or eat him) and that this isn't the first time she offed someone for that. But I guess we can make another EMBODIMENT OF SINS a decent girl, it’s Viv ✨interpretation.✨

Going forward with Mammon, Viv humanized the Sins mentioned up there, so you would think Mammon would also get the humanization treatment?

“T3re Is NOO g0od s|de to GrEed!!!!! 😡”

Okay.

What’s Greed, it’s a selfish desire for more than what you already have (money, fame, etc...) The mention of selfishness doesn’t give Greed a positive connotation but you forgot…. This is Viv ✨interpretation✨ she reduced Lust to craving sexual intimacy just so she could make Asmodeus Pro Concent. Beelzebub doesn't need food she eats the Viiiiibe so she can’t let people self-destruct! Here she’ll politely ask you to go away because she caaaaaares. And Lucifer isn’t Prideful at all.

She removed part of the definition of each Sins so she could make them good people and you’re telling me that she couldn't do the same for Mammon?!

“But H0w can ze posibli m@ke Greed Pozitif?”

If you remove the selfish aspect, Greed is wanting something more. There’s nothing wrong with that, like wanting more recognition, and more money when you’re poor. Mammon could have been this guy who worked himself at the top and his money could have been the fruit of his hard work.

So why, of all the Sins that got turned down was Greed the only one who got the “I’m pure Evil” treatment?

The Seven Deadly Sins aren't supposed to be decent beings. They represent the worst of what humanity can do and they are embodied by equally bad entities. With a setup as shitty as the Hellaverse, where there are little to no rules, slavery, classism, and drugs available everywhere I was expecting them to be a tad bit vicious, purposely making the life of everyone worse for their benefit. Mammon could have been the reason for this capitalist society as it’s the perfect environment to develop other sins and his. Yet, Beelzebub is friendly to the Hellhounds while letting them be treated like lesser than how we treat dogs. There’s even rehabs in Hell, Verosika and Barbie were in the same one.

Asmodeus will sue you if you rape someone unless you’re a succubus. Ironically he said that he’s against love potions when that’s literally what the succubus do with their abilities, get you in the mood without you knowing.

Lucifer is the number one silly guy and he even has an attraction parc for others to have fun.

I know it’s Viv ✨ interpretation✨ but you have to make it make sense. You can’t have demons this high-ranked being nice portray them as good people in the narrative when they are responsible for Hell being so unfair to the lower class.

As for the other sins…

Traditionally speaking Wrath isn't just unjustified violence but hatred and a desire for revenge. I think that’s one of the main reasons Satan and Lucifer are treated as the same person as Lucifer is both prideful, hates God, and seeks revenge. I don't see how Viv’s Satan could be vengeful as they were no war with Heaven to begin with.

Envy isn’t wanting something that someone else has (it’s jealousy), it’s hating someone because they have something that you don’t. Which often results in trying to make the life of this person worse but that’s another thing. I didn't see anything about Sloth and judging by the Sloth Ring, Beelphagor is going to be medical-themed, we know he makes drugs and has a brand of anti-depressant named “Happy Pills.” (Nothing to do with the circus aesthetic she was going for.)

I don’t know if Viv really has a good grasp of what these Sin are traditionally as she claims but we have to see in future episodes. My guess is no.

#anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical

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alilreader · 4 months

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Rule #34, by Fish in a Birdcage. Villain!Shinsou Hitoshi

warnings: dubious consent, brainwashing, implied violence, shinsou villain au, nsfw

contains: smut, foreplay, brainwashing, semiconsensual brainwashing

written to the song Rule #34, by Fish in a Birdcage.

not much plot, just a lil disaster caused by the LOV, that now contains Shinsou as a member.

18+ Minors DNI

requests open :3

Right now, you're mine…

Footsteps fell silently, as one boot and then another met with the hard ground. A head of indigo hair blew weightlessly in the gentle breeze of the outdoors. Dark, deep, mauve eyes trailed lazily about, searching for your figure amongst the hard bark of the surrounding trees.

He was hunting you, as if it was a game. In fact, maybe it was, to him at least. Everything was a chance, a moment, an opportunity to him. He waited patiently for his opportunity, an opportunity to strike.

There it was, his moment, he thought, getting restless as heard the snap of a branch in the distance.

But he had to plan this carefully. You knew of his quirk, you were well aware of it by now. He couldn’t lull you into answering him, like he had everyone else. Although…

Maybe, with some skill, he could do just that.

All mine…

Wordlessly, silently, he unraveled his capture weapon, and used it as a spider would use their web to cover distance. He was zoning in on you, and fast, capturing your shape in his vision.

Quickly, feeling tingles along your back, as if you felt his gaze, your eyes snapped towards him. This rendered him frozen, as if when he stood still you wouldn’t see him.

He stumbled, innocently toward you, feigning an injury, praying you hadn’t seen him swinging your way.

“Shinsou?” you called out, a flicker of excitement seen on your features, any distrust gone. “Shinsou, I was worried for you. Where have you been?”

Guilt flitted across his conscience. You were always so trusting of him, stupidly trusting of him. Of course you wouldn’t assume he was with the League, nor the cause of this disaster.

“Don’t worry, doll.” Shinsou’s voice came out smooth, as he returned to his movement, covering the distance between you two. “Are you harmed?”

He held your face tenderly, as if it might shatter in his hands. He could feel your heartbeat from the proximity.

You shook your head.

Give in, you’re mine…

His eyes, as if it was even possible, darkened. You barely had time to register, before answering, “No, no. I’ve been on the run.” As soon as you finished your claim, you felt the mind numbing tingle that had grown familiar to you. “His quirk,” you thought.

He smirked, ever so slightly, his victory raising his ego. “Doll, I’d been waiting for this..”

Fear struck you through the heart, but some of it went straight to your gut. Setting in on a heavy feeling, a warm feeling, a feeling you’d deny ever having.

As if he noticed, Shinsou spoke, his voice unwavering and confident, “Surrender yourself, completely, to me.”

Your now dull, lifeless eyes met his. You raised your arms slowly into the air, powerless to his control. If you had half a mind, which at the moment you didn’t, a blush would’ve spread across your face at the eye contact you were met with.

Deeply intense, sullen eyes met yours. A flicker of something unknown hidden behind his pupils.

All mine…

His hands gingerly met yours, as they dangled in the air. He brought your knuckles to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses to your flesh.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t want this,” he commanded. Your body, idle, told him everything he needed to know.

Gentle, soft kisses met your throat, as he backed you up against an oak. He searched desperately for your sweet spot, the small place where your neck met your shoulders, that elicited a gasp from you. Leering, he suckled gently on that spot, nibbling and pulling at your skin. He pushed his knee softly between your legs, spreading them, feeling your wetness beneath your skirt.

A crash was heard, further into the forest, making him stand at alert. A growl was pulled from his throat, as he glanced back at your form. He couldn’t be caught, drawing such illicit sounds from you, not now.

He moved to escape, before letting his gaze fall back on you. “Later, doll..” he said, releasing you from your brainwashed state. “Until next time,” he smiled smugly, as he left you there in a stupor.

“That bastard,” you thought to yourself.

#mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x reader #mha shinso hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #smut #mha smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha shinsou #bnha shinsou hitoshi #brainwashing #dubious consent #dubc0n

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mjr-acourtofdreams · 4 months

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Drowning

Warning: depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, anxiety. torcher, blood, self-harm (If missed anything lmk) Description: realizing that she was never enough for him and deciding the world might just be better without her in it

part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been three weeks since Azriel's and I talk in the kitchen during that early morning run in, he has been stealing glances more often now but still most of his attention is taking by that sweet Elain. As those three went by it has been getting hard to even be in the same room has everyone since I knew that those two would be basically on top of each other it seems, maybe I am just overreacting about the whole thing I should be happy for Azriel that he is happy and he found someone that makes him feel that way but why does it hurt so much though.

Cold sweat coats my skin, my breathing is fast and labored. Running as fast as my legs can carry me the branches of the trees rip my skin as I fly through them trying to escape, the wetness of the blood dripping down across my skin burns like fire and ice. Laughter and screams echos in the dark. RUN! RUN! RUN! WORTHLESS! WHORE! USELESS! I covered my ears with my hands and fell down to the ground and screamed, the ground opened up and I fell into the darkness I reached up for anyone to help me my own screams now echoed in the dark hollowness... no came so I fell down, down until...

I gasped and sprung up right holding my chest trying to catch my breath a dream it was a dream. flinging the covers off my burning body and walked over to the window and looked out towards the lights of Velaris the night sky was full of the stars that look like they were alive I tried to calm myself but all those feelings that I was feeling in that night terror came rushing back and hit me like a brick wall and then the tears came rushing down my cheeks "worthless... useless..." I looked down at myself and wrapped my arms around myself "unwanted." it hit me then, that all of that is in fact true. Turning I made my way to my bathroom and shut the door be hide me locking it.

Seeing my reflection in the mirror the tears started to run down my face again I am a shell of the person I once was. Opening the medicinal cabinet, I grab my razor blade and the vile of fae-bane, lacing the blade this liquid I slide down the side of the tub and sat on the floor bring my right arm across my lap and looking down at the scares that now ghost the skin, silent tears fell from my face while I took the razor blade and ran across my skin the burn from the fae-bane made me winced but that soon passed and I see the blood start to bead up then I again to the blade slicing it across my skin again, again and again until all I saw was red. The razor dropped on the floor leaning my head back on the side of the tub tears drained my face just the words echoed in my mind "worthless, useless, unwanted." over and over again.

Azriel's POV

Tossing and turning sleep was not finding me once again tonight seems like it just has been getting worse the last three weeks, setting up I ran my hands down my face looking out towards the window seeing the night sky full of stars that seems a little dimmer than normal I flung the blankets off and made my way to the bathroom the faelight came on and looked myself in the mirror the dark circles formed under my eyes signing I turn to leave and try to find sleep once more when a shadow came up to me in panic HURT HURT the shadow bounced back and forth in a hurry panicking more and more NEEDS HELP HURT now I felt the panic start to form inside me as I made it to my bedroom door to the hallway and stopped "who?!" I spoke the shadows that zipped to the door across the hall Y/N my heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest as I ran across the hall and flung y/n's door open to see her bed a mess and the room dark my shadows took off all at once to the bathroom door where I see the light shining through the crack of the door and sprinted to the door trying to opening it but it was locked, my shadows went under the door and only a few came back to me yelling at me HURT I banged and banged on the door "Y/N! Y/N! OPEN THE DOOR!" I banged on the door again "fuck this." I whisper to myself I took a step back and kicked the door with much force the lock broke and pushed through the door "y/n!" falling down to my knees grabbing her pulling her close "no no no no... stay with me, wake up. Wake up y/n." I yelled for Rhysand in my mind telling him to get here has fast has he can and to bring Madja. Looking down I see y/n looking at me with silent tears running down her cheeks my own tears were now starting to fall. "you're going to be okay, Rhys and Madja are coming." she looked at me, like she was looking right into my soul "I'm sorry Az..." I shook my head before I could respond to her Rhysand and Madja rushed in "Get her to the bed now!" they both seems to yell I set her down carefully on to her bed "now move! I got to get to work!" Madja demanded Rhysand pushed me out the door and shut me out while he returned to help Madja. Tears poured down my face as I looked up and seen Cassian and Nesta watching me with worried looks, it was Cassian that spoke first "W-what happened?" his own voice cracked I looked at him my body started to shake "I-i don't k-know..."

#acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar series #sjm #sjmaas

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my-on-and-off-writingstuff · 2 years

Text

Troublemaker | Daemon x reader

Summary: the three times Daemon is harassed by a tiny toddler.

Warning: Age gap of around 10 years between reader and Daemon. Furthermore, Daemon did not marry Lady Rhea Royce.

93 AC

At two and ten Daemon Targaryen had escaped his teacher. instead he preferred to spend his day underneath the Weirwood tree. The young prince was laying at the root of the tree with arms underneath his head while sleepily looking up at the sky. Somewhere he can hear one of his teachers call out to him. Without doubt wanting to enrich him with an ancient batter or the doom of old Valyria. Something he had learned about a thousand times. This morning has already been filled with sword fighting and while he rather would have ridden his dragon Caraxes he knew sneaking out the Dragon pit would be almost impossible. God knows what his brother Viserys was doing, and he was not really planning on finding out as his brother was probably going to snitch him to his teacher anyway.

Something was tugging on his hair and annoyed he hoped his eyes looking around for the culprit that had interrupted his nap. With a frown on his forehead, he looks at the tiny toddler sitting content at his side. Their little plump fingers going through his hair and occasionally give a sharp tug. Other than the two of you the Godwoods is empty. No nursemaid or servant to be found. The little one was babbling content noises. Judging by the snit of her dress the little toddler was not a servant’s babe but a child of one of the noble ladies residing in the keep.

He tried to ignore the toddler and closed his eyes again. It is not his responsibly to take care of a little girl that what the servants are for. A screech interrupted his rest once again and his eyes quicky found the little one once again. This time you were crawling away from him towards the table underneath the roofed area. The table was covered with a long cloth, hanging of the edge of table almost to the ground, the table was decked with silverware and set for a quick lunch. He knew the curiosity of toddlers and while you had crawled your way there, judging you age he knew you were old enough to be learning how to stand so he made his way towards you quickly. For such a little thing you were quick and had almost reached the table. He carefully scooped you up, but your little fist had managed to grip on to the tablecloth and with Daemons motion of scooping you up you had managed enough force to pull the silverware from the table.

The silverware was clattering to the ground around Daemons feet, wine, and food clinging to his clothing. He groaned but to your amusement the sound of the silverware and his frustration made you giggle. A soft and innocent sound which Daemon had to admit made his heart melt. “Oh, you are enjoying this, little troublemaker.” His voice made an adorable smile spread on your face and he softly tickled you to make you laugh again. He swung you around back to the tree to sit down and keep you out of harm’s way.

The sound of the silverware clattering to the ground had attracted maids and other public to see what was happening. As the maids were quickly and quietly cleaning up the mess you had made. A woman came running in. She let out a sign of relief when noticing you. Her color of her hair and eyes matched yours and Daemon was positively that it was your mother. “Oh, my baby.” The woman exclaimed while quickly gathering you into her arms. The little toddler did not seem to like being ripped out of Daemons embrace, who you had considered to be your friend as the toddler started frowning and making grabbing hands towards him. “I am sorry for the trouble she has caused my prince.” The woman apologized quietly while soothing her daughter. Who’s lip was starting to wobble. “Next time do not let her out of someone’s sight as she might not be so lucky.” He scolded the woman, which he recognized as one of the ladies of a noble house who had just arrived at court for the festivities.

“Of course, my prince, thank you for watching over her.” The lady made a courtesy towards him. Daemon only nodded and walked past the woman with all intention to make haste and find new place to relax but your baby talk made him halt. He turned around towards you and with his index finger lightly fluttered over your little face. “She is a troublemaker that one.” And with that he took his leave.

___

A few weeks later he was walking towards the courtyard to practice some sword fighting when he noticed a presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder and abruptly stopped when he saw you waddling behind him. “Ah the little troublemaker has mastered walking.” He said to the little toddler. Unbeknownst to him the door of the room you and your family was occupying was left open and when seeing him walking past you had seen your chance and followed him. You made grabby hands at him, and he saw that as a sign to pick you up. Content of being in his arms your hand grabbed at his long hair.

“Och, little one let’s not do that.” He untangled his hair from your little hands but as soon as he freed his hair out of your grip your hands were back into his hair. He simply gave up and continued his way towards the courtyard where the training sessions were held. Along the way ignoring the glances of the people around him.

His sword fight teacher raised an eyebrow when he saw the young prince come his way with the small toddler in his arms but said nothing. Only looked on in amusement when Daemon carefully sat the toddler down on a bench gave you a wooden dagger to play with, to keep you occupied and distracted. “She is a troublemaker that one.” Was the only thing the prince acknowledged about the toddler before focusing on the training. Somewhere in the middle of the training a maid who had been sent to look for you had taken you away. Which had resulted in your cries echoing across the courtyard displeased with being taken away while you had been playing with the wooden dagger and had been watching Daemon train with wide eyes of amazement. Daemon almost had snatched you out of the hands of the maid when your disagreement with the situation had made itself known. But decided against it as you were not family of him. His eyes followed the form of the maid who quickly carried you away.

___

Two months later he was properly introduced to the little toddler it was the name day of your older brother. His father, Viserys and he had made his way towards the garden where the party was held. His father properly introduced his brother and him to the family, and your mother stumbled over her words as she properly met the prince still aware of the time, he had scolded her for not watching her child.

The royal family had sat down on the provided chairs which were placed around the garden for the parents to be able to socialize and the children to run around and play. As soon as your little eyes had found him you had made your way towards him. Daemon had not noticed you sneaking up on him until you were tugging at his clothes. Your mother tried to distract you but to no avail. “Y/N, baby come here” You had only looked briefly towards your mother before again tugging these times more urgently at his clothes. Daemon looked down at you, the same smile on your little face as when he had first met you and again his heart melted. He picked you up and sat you in his lap.

From there you had a great view and was watching other kids play around you while also sheepishly eyeing up the cakes standing on the table. Daemon quickly took notice of the cakes when he saw you attempting to crawl on the table. “Ah see your little trouble side is coming out again.” He spoke quietly to you making sure his brother could not jest him about talking to a toddler. You let out an adorable giggle at the sound of his voice and again tried to move closer to the cakes. “You just can not help it, can you?” Daemon kept an arm around your stomach to make sure you did not fall or lose balance before plating one of the cakes onto a plate and putting it in front of you. A little scream came from your mouth as the little cake you had been eyeing was now in front of you.

Without much hesitation your hands grabbed the cake and brought it to your mouth. You leaned against Daemon with the cake in your hands clearly content with your position. Daemon let out a soft groan because of the crumbs that were falling onto his clothes. Your mother had given up on trying to coax you away from the prince. With a full belly and a comfortable position, you had quickly fallen asleep in Daemons arms. However, every time when your mother would try to lift you out of Daemons arms and give you to one of the maids. You would stir and start whining which ended up with Daemon being annoyed with your mother and telling her you were fine in his arms. He ignored his brother who was trying to stifle his laugh across from him at the table clearly finding it amusing how much his brother was wrapped around the toddler little finger.

In the end Daemon was the one who had carried you back to the castle. Nobody allowed to get you out of his arms. He loved the feeling of that responsibility, caring for you was slowly but surely one of his favorite things. While his brother was jesting that you had imprinted on him like a little baby rabbit. Daemon could only relinquish in the feeling that you had chosen him to do so.

Slowly he placed you in your bed. He brushed your baby hairs before leaving the room without another glance. Missing the little smile that graced your lips even in your sleep.

___

111 AC

Daemon was nervously tugging at the collar of his jacket while looking around the great hall trying to not meet the eye of a single spectator. The great hall was transformed into a magical place where the wedding ceremony was going to take place. Sun light was lighting up the room making the golden and white wand decorations handing from the walls shine. Flowers were wrapped around the columns and the tacitly pleased around the room. You had planned it out to the last detail even the broach on which tied the cape and his jacket together.

You had gifted it to him last night. It was a golden dragon midflight with its wings stretched out. It was unlike the Targaryen crest, and he had never been gifted something this thoughtful. For its eye was a single ruby. “For the color of Caraxes scales.” You had proudly stated while pinning it to his wedding attire so that it would all be ready for tomorrow. Like he said you had planned everything. Before he could properly thank you, you had all but ran out the room. Screaming back at him that he would have to wait one more night.

Once again, he roams the space, and his eyes briefly meet your parents. While he practically had to beg your dad for your hand your mother was already wiping her tears away. Your father was a little less pleased as he glared at Daemon with a stoic face. Your father was not a fan of the 10 years age gap, as well reputation of rogue prince. However very much like Daemon you had both of them wrapped around your finger from a verry young age. Every marriage proposal you had rejected in favor of this one. After all you had dreamed about this wedding for ages and what you want you would get even if your dad was not totally aboard with it. As a father he had his concerns and Daemons reputation did not paint him in a favorable light.

The music starts playing and Daemon shifts his attention to the big heavy doors. The doors are opened by two knights and within seconds you are making you way down the rows of people. You were wearing a heavily decorate golden gown with flowers and little stars on it. The trail of wedding dress is in a long trail behind you, shifting the flowers that mark the path towards the altar on the ground slightly. In your hair is a grand diadem set with rubies and diamonds. Around your neck is a necklace set with stones where part of it drops downs and settles between the valley of your breast. The necklace together with the drop earrings was his engagement gift for you. You had only worn them once before showing them off at their engagement feast before locking them up and saving them for your wedding day.

You had almost reached the altar and Daemon reached out his hands to help you up it. You looked like a goddess with the sunlight warming your face and making your dress sparkle. You take his hands in yours and squeeze it to reassure yourself that this is all happening, and it is not just a dream. The maids in charge of the trail delicately place it around you when you stand in front of your soon to be husband before they take a step back. The septon comes forwards and hushes the crowd. You smile nervously at him, as if you had only just noticed the crowd.

“Who is giving away the bride?” the septon asks. “I am!” your father voices bellows through the sept. He climbs the stairs of the altar and slowly takes of the beautiful made cloak in your house colors. The cloak is heavily decorated and reaches all the way to the floor. “You sure about this honey, we can still make a run for it.” Your father tries to joke but you see the emotion in his eyes. “Yes father, he is the man I want to marry.” You sneak a glance at Daemon who is tense, clearly having heard the conversation and you father offering you a way out. Your father only nods a response before kissing your forehead and returning to stand next to your mother.

“Now who is to claim her?” Daemon reaches out to the servant who is holding his cloak. As he unfurls the cloak the crowd gasps at the sight of the cloak. The cloak was of a black fabric and looked velvety of texture. The dragon was made from red thread but in the light of the sun it seemed to reflect and glimmer. Just as your house cloak this one reached the ground as well. the chain that would hold the cloak around your shoulders was made of gold and the clasp was another dragon quite similar to the broach Daemon was wearing. He now understood why you were persistent on that dragon.

He stepped closer to you and your usually scent invaded his senses. He smiled at you and carefully wrapped the cloak around you before fasting it. His finger ghosted over the rounding of your breast before he dutifully stepped a step back. keeping the appropriate distance between the two of you. “With the exchange of cloaks, the bride has passed from the protection of her father into her husband’s protection.” The septon declares before moving to take up the wine cup.

He leads the prayer and blesses the cup before giving it to Daemon. Without breaking eye contact Daemon takes a sip out of the cup. tasting the bitter taste of the wine before swallowing it. He takes the cup to your lips and tentatively tilts it so you can take a sip out of it. “Let this wine be the first of many things they will share between them,” The septon once again declares before taking the cup away.

The septon then gestures for the bride and groom to take each other’s hands. “Repeat after me.” Daemon for the first time during the ceremony looks at the septon and from the corner of his eye he sees you doing the same. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” Daemons eyes are back on yours while he repeats the septon. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words and can’t help but look at the way his lips move while speaking his vows. The septon now turns to you. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband.” Without hesitation you repeat the words and intuitive take a step forwards. Daemon places his hand up your waist.

“Then in the power invested in me by the faith of the seven I declare you man and wife as they are one flesh, one heart, one soul now and forever and may they live a long and fruitful live.” Before the septon has even finished his speech Daemon pulls you into his chest. Your hand bracing for the impact lays on his chest. With his free hand he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips against you. The world around you goes silent, no longer are you hearing the clapping of the invited lords and ladies. Your whole attention and senses are dedicated to the prince in your arms. A prince you can now proudly call yours. You feel his free hand roam its way down to your butt. The Septon clears his throat obviously uncomfortable at the sight of that and reluctant Daemon ends the kiss. “You are stuck with me, little troublemaker.” You smile up at him blissfully still in his warm embrace. “I would not have it any other way.”

___

Part 2

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fancficton #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones #hotd

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 19 days

Text

What to do when you find yourself to be an immortal vampire?

Forever is a long time. Paul knew that, back when he was offered to change. He didn't care. He liked the idea of staying young forever, partying all night, never complaining about life like his parents did. Never complaining about long hours of work an dno payment to show for it. Never complaining about pains in his joints, headaches that wouldn't stop coming, never having to worry about any of those human things.

No, immortality was exactly what Paul imagined it would be. It was partying. It was freedom. It was flying in the sky and letting yourself fall to the ground, knowing you wouldn't be harmed. It was scaring the living shit out of people. It was gory, bloody, horrifyingly disturbing - but most of all, it was fun.

He loved racing on his bike, going faster than he would have dared when he was a human. He loved hunting and stalking his victims. He loved toying with them and making them think they had a chance of survival. He loved hanging with the guys, enjoying life in a way he couldn't when he was still alive.

But, as there always is with these things, there was a downside. Summer, for instance. When the heat began to roll into the cold cave, Paul already began to dread the coming months. The late sunsets, the early sunrises, the number of people in Santa Carla who paid way more attention to their surroundings than they used to. No, those summer months - even though he still enjoyed the nightly trips to the boardwalk - were the one thing he disliked about being a vampire.

He always woke up early, around four in the afternoon. In winter, it didn't really matter. The sun was already beginning to set, and it wouldn't be long before he could go outside. In summer, it was often a seven hour wait before sunset. The others had found ways to cope with their time waiting.

Marko had gotten pets. He cared for his pigeons, cared for the mice, and bugs living in the cave. He made sure the bats hiding in the dark corners were all still healthy - and helping them heal whenever it was necessary. Yes, Marko never complained about the time inside, having more than enough things and creatures to keep him occupied.

Dwayne, well, he was the one who probably enjoyed that time the most. He liked his downtime, preferring to have a quiet, calm evening instead of one filled with humans. He spent his time reading, going through the piles of books spread around the cave as if his life depended on it.

David, on the other hand, was often found writing or thinking up new ways to traumatise his victims. He enjoyed exploring his powers, seeing how far he could go with an illusion, how much suggestion something needed before the illusion took hold. He was often contemplating knew ideas, testing them out, and writing down notes on what to improve. He always played it off as child's play, especially when he had a thing for his victim, but in reality, it took a lot of training to get to the point where he was now.

Paul had never had the attentionspan to focus on his suggestion skills. Nor did he have a gift for animals or the patience to read a book. Over the years, he had done many things. He had tried to grow a bonsai tree - only to realise that he had forgotten to water it two months after getting it. Needless to say, the tree didn't live for long.

Once he had decided to get into making patches, seeing how Marko always decorated his jacket with them. He designed a few, and got better with each one he made - but then he forgot where he'd put his needless, and then just forgot about the thing.

He had asked Dwayne to teach him how to skate, which went surprisingly okay - until Paul decided to skate off the cliff to see how far he would go, and he lost the skateboard. He bought a replacement, but if asked, Dwayne was still a bit sour about it.

Paul tried everything, from making stop motion videos to organising his album collection to learning astronomy and figuring out how to put his bike apart and put it back together again. No matter what he did, over time, it began to bore him. Or he forgot about it, lost his initial interest.

His whole corner of the cave was filled with projects he once begun and then forgot about, things he bought or stole and then never used. But in the middle of all these things was his quiet pride and joy. It was the result of a bet made years ago.

At one point, when the boys were out on the boardwalk, they'd seen a video of a man cresting a solid aluminium foil ball. David was convinced it was bullshit, Paul thought otherwise. So he started to collect foil whenever he could. He began collecting it from the foil covered chocolate Easter eggs, to buying rolls of foil from the store.

The foil ball began small, but now, two years later, it was almost three feet wide and tree feet high. Not only that, Paul looked at it with a grin. It had become a solid ball. He spent his early mornings in the past years hammering on that ball, making the foil stuck together, making it one solid thing.

It hadn't cured his boredom. If he was honest, he was bored of it the second David had begrudgingly admitted that the TV show had been right, but then he realised it was a thing that kept him busy. So the ball kept growing, and growing and growing, until it was the size it was now.

But as Paul looked at it, the huge ball in his corner of the cave, he spotted the empty wall behind it. Marko had some paint left from when he had painted the Jim Morrison mural, and maybe it was time to add another face to the wall.

As Paul rolled the aluminium ball aside, the thing already forgotten, he started his painting. Marko looked at the scene in front of him, wondering whether this painting would get finished or whether he would spend eternity looking at another unfinished project.

#the lost boys #tlb #marko #david #paul #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader

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kichikichiko · 5 months

Note

Heyyy loved your po headcannons, seeing as TaiLung is one of your fav could you please do dating TaiLung headcannons please? Hope you have a good day xx

You, always.

YES OF COURSE I CAN GRAHHHHHHHH.

TAI LUNG IS MY LOVE

I'm actually so happy I got this request

3 anons actually requested this so ill tag the other anons too when I reblog this hehehe

Synopsis: Dating Tai Lung headcanons!

Pairing: Tai lung x gn!reader (Animal of your choice)

Cw: Headcanon, fluff, mildly ooc Tai lung (BC HE'S A TEEN IN LOVE) pre kung fu panda 1, not proofread but I'll keep on editing this as I read LMAO

──────•❥❥❥•──────

Everyone knew of Tai Lung. He was the adopted son of Shifu and the soon to be Dragon Warrior

At least that is what Shifu keeps on saying. But no one doubted it, Tai Lung was absolutely amazing and strong.

Many girls fell for him, and of course you did as well. But the differences between you and them, was that you successfully got Tai Lung’s heart

Everyone knew that although Tai Lung was strong, he had the temper of an eruptive volcano. Which is why MOST of his admirers wouldn't dare to confess their love to him.

Tai Lung fell in love with your confidence. The next dragon warrior was not stupid. He knew that most of the villagers were scared of him, despite admiring him.

You basically strolled up to him one day when he was walking down the streets of the valley of peace, and thanked him for his hard work.

“Hi Tai Lung, my name is (name) and I just wanted to say that I admire you and thank you for protecting the valley of Peace from danger.” you smiled

“You’re.. Welcome.” He nodded, holding a bag of groceries. Tai was stunned someone had the confidence to even look his way when he was on the streets of the valley

You smiled and nodded a little “See you around! Soon-to-be Dragon warrior” winking at him playfully and walking away.

He finds himself smiling at the memory whenever he has time to himself. From that moment on, you started seeing each other more often and finally made it official.

Never in a million years would he think that he would find someone to love.

Afterall, his heart and mind was set to mastering the art of Kung Fu, and making his father proud

But you changed him for the better.

You and him were polar opposites, which was great. You both were compatible despite your differences.

He was hot tempered and prideful... and you patient and humble.

Shifu and Tai Lung would have arguments from time to time. It’s only natural after all! He was a teenager, in his rebellious stage.

Tai Lung would storm out of the Jade Palace to cool down.

Before you, He’d go to a hill and punch a sturdy tree to relieve his stress. Of course the trees stood no chance

Now that he has you, his partner, the hot headed leopard would come over to your place without saying a word.

He didn’t have to of course, because he knew that you would understand right away. Which is all he needed honestly. I don’t think that he would have the patience to explain the full situation.

Tai Lung would NEVER admit it to you though,because his pride won't let him. But he loves how gentle you are with him.

The way you spoke to him when he was having troubles

“Tai, I understand Shifu made you upset, but you have to understand where he’s coming from.”

The way you held his paw in your own

“I’m sure he means no harm. He just wants the best for you and so do I”

How you guide him to the right path “Please control your temper next time, I don’t want you to start losing yourself and go on the wrong path”

His shoulders become less tense whenever he sees how soft your gaze is when you look at him.

Those eyes are just full of patience, love, empathy and understanding. Qualities that he does not have (Except love)

Qualities he loves about you.

If youre having a hard time Tai Lung would sense it straight away.

You both know that he isn't the best with his words

He can be awkward and stiff, but for you? He’ll try his damn best.

He’ll buy your favourite food, and even stop by mister Ping’s noodle shop to get you something warm for your tummy.

The Leopard would visit your place and take you by the lake at night to watch the stars in the sky as you feel the breeze of the wind hit your (feather/fur/skin/scales)

“Thank you Tai… for this.” You smiled at him as you took a bite out of the food he brought for you.

Tai Lung would nod stiffly “No problem.”

Honestly he wasn’t happy that he wouldn't comfort you with sweet words like you would do for him when he was upset.

“You know. I used to come here often to take time for myself. The first time I came here was to find inner peace in myself, but I couldn't, which frustrated me even more…” Tai lung started, he took a glance at you to see if you were listening

“I then decided to stop my meditation and look up at the sky. And what I saw was the beautiful stars shining brightly up there. Only then, did I find my peace even if it was for one night. In fact,” he looked up at the sky as if he was signing to you to do the same “the stars up there are shining just as bright as when I saw it for the first time.”

Your eyes trailed up to the sky and immediately you saw what your boyfriend was talking about.

“Wow it’s beautiful” you whispered in awe as Tai Lung saw the stars twinkling in your eyes.

“Just like a certain someone I know..” he’d whisper back, admiring your features and admiring you.

He was so lucky to have you by his side and he knows it damn well

No other words were exchanged between the two of you.

You scooted closer to your boyfriend and leaned into his shoulder for warmth and comfort. Tai Lung didn’t push you away, instead he pulled you closer.

Whether or not Tai Lung knows it, you started to forget your worries right then and there. It seems like he knows how to comfort you after all.

──────•❥❥❥•──────

Masterlist

Requesting (closed)

#kung fu pandaxreader #kung fu panda x reader #kung fu panda headcanons #kung fu panda #kung fu panda tai lung #kfp tai lung #tai lung #tai lung x reader #tai lung x you #kfp #kfp fanfic

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cobaltperun · 6 months

Text

Woe out the Storm (15 - S1 - finale) - Eye of the Storm

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next Part

Word count: 3.3k

-Storm clouds storming, this is your final warning (woah, ah), I (I) am the eye of the storm-

The sight in front of Wednesday was more frightening than anything she saw in her life, you were losing it, lightning raging around you, hitting the school and breaking stones. A stray blast of lightning hit the tree in the fountain, shattering it completely, and you just stood there, in the middle of it. You weren’t human, or a raiju, you were a force of nature, gone out of control.

“Calm down, raiju,” Bianca tried to use her siren song and it seemed to be working, until you roared so loudly Wednesday thought she was going to lose her hearing. It took you mere seconds to break free from Bianca’s siren song, driven by instinct, there was no way you’d just listen to a command.

Worse than that, you set your eyes on Bianca, and it was almost like staring death in the eyes, nothing Bianca could do could stop you as you were now. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, she tried to control you, and you wouldn’t let that go unpunished.

So, to protect you from the guilt, Wednesday stepped forward. “Y/N!” she called your name, as loud as she could so you’d hear her over lightning around you. She approached you, fully aware that one swipe of your paw would mean she’d die, torn into two or more pieces. That would be even worse for you, and she didn’t want you to carry that guilt, but she had to risk it, she had to believe in you. “Y/N,” she repeated your name, hoping it would make you regain control of yourself.

It didn’t.

You roared again, baring your teeth at Wednesday and rushing at her.

And she accepted it, she stood still, waiting for you to bring down lightning or strike her in another way, but you didn’t. You froze right in front of her, your lightning moving around her body, avoiding her.

Wednesday’s eyes widened at that, at the familiar sensation of your lightning moving to her whims, much like it did during Rave’N. This wasn’t because of the bond between her family and raiju, this was your own bond. She couldn’t see recognition in your eyes just yet, but she saw curiosity, she saw your eyes scanning her for whatever you were looking for.

And she reached up, lightning moving aside to let her touch your fur. It was warm, not quite soft, but still softer than she thought it would be. Wednesday lightly scratched you near your jaw, fully aware one move from you would cost her an arm. But you just stayed there, accepting her touch. So, Wednesday moved up, reaching as far up as she could and scratching you close to your ear, prompting you to lean down a bit so she could reach behind it.

“Y/N,” she said your name again, and this time you chuffed, despite the lightning that still surrounded your body, indicating complete lack of control, you still accepted her touch. You were driven by instinct, your own instinct mixed with something more primal, and you’d never harm her. And though it puzzled her, Wednesday accepted it, choosing to tug at your mane, to tell you she wanted you to lean your head down. You did it, and she leaned her forehead against your head. Only now, that you were completely calm did she allow herself to relax and accept that you were alive, that you were right there and safe and that you didn’t die for her.

“Thank you,” she said just for you to hear.

You chuffed in return and a few moments later you were back in your human form, unconscious, but in control.

~X~

You were aching and a bit colder than you were used to feeling. Well, you supposed that made sense, you completely depleted your lightning last night, or however long ago the last thing you remembered happened, and you were just now recharging a bit of it. You weren’t sure you could even zap right now.

“Maybe we should plug her in? You know, recharge her?” you heard Enid’s suggestion and just figured you should go back to sleep.

“Ooh! Or put a battery in her! Wait, where would we even fit one? Feed it to her?” now that was just uncalled for.

“I’ll make an electric chair,” Wednesday saying that made you jump to your feet.

No way were you about to let her strap you to an electric chair, even if it wouldn’t do anything to you. “I’m awake!”

Enid began laughing so hard there were tears coming from her eyes and even Wednesday was smirking. “I hate you both,” you deadpanned and went to grab a bottle of water. “Ridiculous,” you mumbled, causing Enid to laugh even harder.

“So? What did I miss?” you asked and downed half of the bottle.

Enid grinned widely. “Wednesday hugged me!” she exclaimed and you nearly choked on water.

You coughed a bit and sat down on your bed as Wednesday moved to sit at your desk and Enid joined you on the bed. Thing was happily resting on your pillow. It was actually endearing how close they remained to you while you were recovering.

You reached up and touched Enid’s face. “You look badass,” you grinned a bit, though you felt bad for not getting to her in time.

Enid nodded, appreciating the sentiment.

“Tyler was Laurel and dealt with, Crackstone is dead for good, raijin didn’t show up, and some of the school needs to be repaired,” Wednesday caught you up to speed.

You leaned back a bit, resting your weight on the palms of your hands. “Geez, Weems must be busy,” you commented, only to be met with complete, stunned silence. The sudden silence made you tilt your head to the side. “What happened to Weems?” you asked, and your confusion skyrocketed when you saw Wednesday’s eyes widening as if this was the last thing she expected you to say.

“Y-You don’t remember?” Wednesday actually stuttered.

You shook your head, not sure why that was so important. Wednesday abruptly stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the doors shut behind her. You just… sat there, confused, worried, and all you could do was run after her. Or you would have if Thing didn’t get in your way.

“What do you mean give her space? Thing, what happened?!” you demanded, Wednesday didn’t leave like that, she just didn’t.

Thing signed that you woke up last night, that you and Wednesday talked, and that she told you Weems died.

You stumbled back into your chair, shocked that Weems was dead, shocked that you forgot, shocked that you even woke up last night. Weems was dead? You looked at Enid, hoping she would say otherwise, but she just shook her head.

“It’s true, Thornhill killed her with nightshade poison, just before she took Wednesday,” Enid told you.

You just sat there, processing the information, apparently for the second time. And given the fact you were somehow getting this feeling of déjà vu; you figured you really did hear about it last night. Weems was dead. Gone. Sure, you and her didn’t see eye to eye all the time, and she did obstruct Wednesday’s investigation, and she did cover up Rowan’s murder, but she didn’t deserve to die.

She accepted you into Nevermore, even if she dreaded the longer storms. You felt like she understood your circumstances better than most of the staff, better than most people did. And true, you weren’t close, but you knew her for years, and she died too soon. You caught yourself asking if you could have prevented it, if there was any decision that would have allowed you to save her life.

Could you have gone with Wednesday to the train station, so she wouldn’t go to confront Laurel with just Weems? What would have happened if you went there? Would Crackstone even be revived if you were there to stop Laurel from taking Wednesday.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Then there was the rest of the things you didn’t remember. Why would Wednesday storm out like that? You not remembering Weems was dead wasn’t good enough of a reason for Wednesday to react like that. You did something, and you didn’t know what you did. You didn’t even have any clue, aside from Thing telling you Wednesday needed space.

Wednesday Addams needed space because you couldn’t remember something!

You needed to find her! You needed to fix what you did immediately. You got up and went toward the doors. You could have jumped from the balcony, but given you were still recovering, you were worried you might be unable to slow down your fall.

“Don’t, Y/N, Thing told me what else happened last night, and it’s better if you don’t go after her,” Enid told you and now you were really worried.

“Yeah, no, let me fix whatever I did,” you ignored Enid calling your name and ran after Wednesday. You ran like you were preparing for a race, too bee hives, to the Poe statue, and the Nightshades library, to the forest, and you couldn’t find her.

And when she finally came back to the room later that night you could faintly sense static on her clothes. She went to one place she knew you wouldn’t think about, to your shed. She come back as if nothing happened, and even a week later you had no idea what you did. You just knew Wednesday wasn’t acting any differently, she just wouldn’t tell you what you did.

~X~

So, given the circumstances, the school year was cut short, and given your circumstances, the one that came to pick you up was your dad. That’s how you ended up in the back of his car, on your way to get better control over your beast form.

You never arrived at the location of your training.

It happened before you even had a chance to fully realize what was going on. One moment you were in the backseat of your dad’s car, the next he was hitting the brakes and grabbing you, blasting through the back of the car and jumping.

“Dad?!” you yelled but he was already shifting and running with you on his back. “Hey! What are y-“ your breath hitched as you heard an explosion coming from behind you. You dared to turn around and saw the remains of the car falling back down as someone emerged from smoke and flames. Even from this far you recognized who it was by the feeling alone, and even if you couldn’t see them, you knew his eyes were completely blue.

The raijin, the thunder god…

~X~

Not even the realization that someone was stalking her was enough to get her mind off what happened after the fight with Crackstone. It was impossible to get rid of the thoughts she had after what you did to her and so, Wednesday closed her eyes and replayed the memory in her mind. The phantom sensations from that night plagued her once again, even stronger now that she knew she’d spend some time away from you.

~X~

The number of nights Wednesday spent either lying on your bed or sitting on it was starting to get ridiculous. Well, at least you survived, you didn’t die for her. She covered you with your and her two blankets, but you were still trembling, your skin was cold and Wednesday hated how much she missed the warmth she was so used to, especially since you picked up a habit of taking her hand.

Enid was in the infirmary, having been more injured than you, you just got patched up and Wednesday made Xavier and Ajax carry you upstairs. And now Wednesday was sitting next to you, holding your hand under the covers to try and warm you up a bit because somehow you were even colder than she was.

“Wed-“ you tried to speak, but your throat was dry. It didn’t matter, you were awake, you were opening your eyes and Wednesday felt as if a heavy weight was removed from her back. You cleared your throat and smiled at her. “Hey,” you even squeezed her hand. “I’m fine, just tired,” you assured her and slowly sat up.

Wednesday nodded, she knew you were fine, or that you’d be fine. You and Enid would be fine, everything would be fine.

“Shit, it’s cold,” you were still trembling. “Since when are you warmer than me?” there was a bit of annoyance in your voice.

Thing came up to you, telling you to calm down and rest, but you just laughed.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m just completely out of lightning, it can happen, it’s just annoying,” you explained, and it made sense, your body was constantly warm due to lightning, without it your temperature dropped severely. Thing did tell her you shifted against Tyler as well, so it all made sense to her.

“You seem to be doing fine, go back to sleep,” Wednesday got up, perhaps she could spend some time writing, it was certainly more productive than watching over you when you would clearly be fine. She could feel your eyes on her, and she didn’t need to turn around to know you were smiling. Just as she sat down and took a paper to place in her typewriter you got up and walked over to her table. You were shivering, but it wasn’t as bad as it was before. “I told you to go to sleep,” she reminded you as you leaned back on her table, right next to her.

“It’s annoying, but it’s rare. I can be normal, you know, I can drink regular water, I could stand in the rain, and nothing would happen. So, I try to cherish it while it lasts,” you explained. “Though, there’s no telling how long I’ll be able to stay awake,” your voice was already getting a bit sleepy, so not for long.

“You were reckless, you shouldn’t have come back to school in that condition,” she chastised you, trying her best to hide how she really felt. How she felt dreadfully happy that you came for her, at the crypt and at the school.

You reached down, gently taking hold of her right hand and she allowed you to turn it so you could look at her palm. “I wish I got there sooner, I wish I went with you to the train station, that way Laurel wouldn’t have even captured you. What was Weems doing anyway?”

“Weems died,” Wednesday chose to focus on that, and not on the way her heart threatened to rip through her chest at the way you caressed the back of her hand, you didn’t want to touch her palm, afraid you’d hurt her probably, so the back of her hand was the next best thing. She refused to acknowledge that she didn’t want you to let go.

Your eyes widened at that and you lowered your head. “Damn it,” you gritted your teeth and covered your eyes with your free hand. Wednesday gave you time, she let you process the information.

“People die,” she eventually said, prompting you to nod.

“Right,” you sighed, collecting yourself and blinking a few times. “People die,” what were you thinking about? Would Weems dying affect you? Wednesday didn’t know, as far as she could tell you weren’t close to her, but you’d probably feel like you should have been there to stop it.

“It was nightshade poisoning. If you were there Laurel would have used it on you,” because you were a much bigger threat than Weems, and for that Wednesday was thankful you weren’t there.

“Probably,” you said eventually.

“Definitely,” but there was no doubt in Wednesday’s mind. She got up, standing in front of you and watching your eyes closely. She raised her left hand, placed it on your shoulder, despite everything she was used to being the very opposite of that want, she still wanted you to be close to her, she wanted to, at least somewhat, touch you.

“Wednesday,” you breathed out, her name falling from your lips like a vow you knew nothing about. And she shivered as you looked down, just for a few moments looking at her lips before looking back at her eyes. She could read you like a book, she could almost see the thoughts in your head, that her surviving was more important to you.

It was slow, as if you were asking for a permission, and she gave it to you by stepping closer, by allowing you to wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer. She allowed you to hug her, to hold her, and she allowed herself to lean into your touch. She pressed her body against yours, closer, more intimate than her hug with Enid, despite Wednesday not hugging you back. You were cold, yet Wednesday felt like you were burning through her clothes with your touch. And all the while she was looking at your lips, so close to her, she just needed to…

Not yet. She looked you in the eyes instead.

Her eyes widened, the stoic, emotionless expression on her face breaking apart when she saw the way you looked at her and she couldn’t help it. She just smiled, her cold heart beating faster than ever before. “Mi Rayo,” the words slipped past her mouth before she could stop them, and at that moment, as the tips of her fingers reached up and caressed your jaw, she was split between wanting you to know what she said and dreading that possibility. ‘My Lightning’, that’s what she called you, because that’s what you were, you were a lightning, a lightning beast that was capable of great destruction. More importantly, and much to her dismay, you were her lightning beast, and that realization made her feel like she was stuck in an electric chair. The hand she kept on your shoulder slid down, and she firmly pressed it just above your chest as she raised her head.

“What did you say?” you were frowning, your eyes suddenly unfocused and the grip on her waist loose. You did say you weren’t sure how long you’d stay awake.

Her parted lips closed, and she pulled back, removing herself from your hold. “Nothing, go back to sleep,” she said, her voice betraying the annoyance she felt as she realized the ghost of your touch still lingered, taunting her. She ignored it at that time, not even considering the possibility of you forgetting what happened.

Now, knowing that you didn’t remember it over a week later, that ghost came back to haunt her. You’d never remember the first time she allowed you to hold her, would you? You forgot it as if it meant nothing that she gave you the permission to touch her so familiarly. You forgot as if she didn’t bare her throat for you to claw through it if you just so pleased. You forgot as if her staking her claim on you was just a spur-of-the-moment declaration. You forgot as if your eyes didn’t tell her she was the only bottle that could capture your lightning. As if the way you looked at her in that moment didn’t shatter everything the two of you were and put it back together in a way Wednesday couldn’t recognize or control. And she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to control it.

You forgot and she was stuck remembering how she was fractions of an inch away from kissing you.

A/N: See you all when Season 2 comes out!

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #jenna ortega x reader #x reader

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zombieunicorngamerzu · 1 year

Text

(Charlotte Matthews x fem soulmate reader - eighteen year old reader is a runaway, passing out in the forest near Charlottes retreat where she finds her on a walk with her followers, only there’s a darker turn, Charlotte had a vision, a vision before you came that you’d come, destined to be delivered to her by the wild, as her soulmate, and once she finds you, she has no intentions of letting you go.)

[Warnings - self harm scars, bad past in foster care, references to past molestation, sexual trauma, blood, caring- slightly dark Charlotte, soulmate au, smut, GIP Charlotte, penetration, lovemaking, breeding, lovebombing]

The leaves crunched under your feet as you walked down the path of the forest on the side of the road, it was raining and getting dark. Your backpack slung over your shoulder and your headphones lodged in your ears as you pulled your hood down more to shield yourself from the rain. You had no idea where you were going at this point, just walking further and further away from that hellhole called home.

Anywhere would be better than that place.

You sighed out shakily, you should have packed more food and water, you only left with a backpack full of two sets of clothes, a bag of granola bars, two water bottles, and your wallet with about $100 in it, but you were trying to save every penny, trudging yourself further down the path in the mud, terrified that if you followed the main road your monsters of foster parents would find you, but you were eighteen now, just turned, yet you still feel like a scared child.

Frowning as you remembered why you left, the promising words of your Foster father that he would… you didn’t wanna think that thought, all you knew was you had to leave before you turned eighteen, your whole body shivering before you dry heaved from the memories of his hands on your body, being pinned to the floor of your bedroom-

There you went, stumbling over and vomiting with your hand braced on a tree, your whole body practically seizing up from the stress of memories, emptying your stomach until you were a panting-sweaty mess, your eyes closing for a moment as you felt your forehead, “yup, fever, fucking fantastic”, you thought to yourself, wiping your mouth and pulling yourself back up, taking a swig of water to swish out the awful taste in your mouth before spitting and continuing to walk with a slight stumble to your pace.

You really didn’t know where you were, you were really lost, it was dark, you feel like shit, and you have a fever, the ache and the lightheadedness making you completely miserable to the point of wanting to cry, but you were stubborn, you kept walking with a goal of making it to god knows where, you tried and trudged for as long as you could before slipping in the mud and tumbling back, falling into a ditch and smacking your head off a rock, passing out completely.

Charlotte didn’t really know why she took this route, she didn’t usually take her followers out past the barriers of the community, but there was just this urge, this pull to this area she couldn’t place. She could swear the trees were leading her to a specific area, she was leading a group therapy today with a couple of her followers, walking and just trying to appreciate and enjoy the light rain and nature in silence.

What Charlotte didn’t expect was to look down the path to the side and see a unconscious girl, her eyes widening at the sight in disbelief as she stopped, “Oh my god” she spoke out with concern and worry as she immediately rushed down into the ditch, not caring about getting her kaftan dirty, slipping a few times before she made it to you, gently turning you over before shaking her head with a shaky sigh of worry at blood dripping down the side of your face, Charlottes followers all calling down to her as she pulled your head into her lap, calling back up to them, “Can I get some help down here, this girl is hurt!”

Charlottes eyes widened as she brushed your hair out of your face, her touch so tender as your eyes fluttered slightly, her face leaning closer to yours to inspect you, her fingers grazing your cheek* “Hey- Hello… come on, wake up for me sweetheart, please?” She spoke so soft while her followers stumbled down into the ditch to help carry you, but Charlotte held up her hand to stop them as she watched you try to wake,

“Wait.”

Her followers obeyed immediately, Charlottes tone was stern along with her look before she softened completely and looked back down at you, your eyes cracking open just slightly, your vision was blurry when you drifted to consciousness for a moment, seeing a blurry figure and hearing a muffled voice, “That’s it, there you go, come on, come on.”

You really tried to wake up, but you couldn’t, only getting a glimpse of a very beautiful older woman who looked like a concerned angel there to save you before you drifted unconscious again, causing Charlotte to frown in panic, trying to tap your cheek but nothing worked.

Signaling her followers to help take you back to the community while she followed rushed, Charlotte was so concerned, you were so young, and she just felt a wave of protectiveness and care for you already, and you looked so familiar, her brows furrowed the whole time as her followers carry you back to the direction of a cabin before Charlottes correcting them, “No, bring her to my quarters, she needs to be watched.”

Her followers complied immediately, carrying you to Charlottes quarters and laying you down on her sofa before she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, “Please, everyone, thank you for your help but please leave me to tend to her.”

After they left she immediately rushed to your side and started to untie your muddy shoes, taking them off along with your socks and setting your backpack to the side, peeking into it to see if there’s anything she needs to know about, finding your ID and wallet with your name, making her smile slightly, “Y/N, pretty name for a pretty girl.” She sighed out before pulling out your little metal box you had in there, a worried frown immediately crossing her features when she popped it open and gasped, accidentally slicing her finger on one of your razors.

Charlotte was tearing up already, she’s seen self-harm scars so many times before, but yours were just- they broke her heart as she rolled up your sleeves and found your dirty-bloody, poorly wrapped wrists, she covered her mouth as she shakily unwrapped them to see your red irritated scars, most likely infected. Her heart hurt so bad seeing you like this, her eyes tearing up as she stood up and started to undress you before carefully lifting you off the couch and carrying you to her bathroom with a strained grunt.

She was determined to clean you up and care for you, setting you in her large jet tub before running some hot water, she sat just outside the tub with a concerned expression while carefully cleaning your wounds, her fingers gently moving through your hair as she washed you before draining the tub when she was finished, pulling your unconscious body out of the tub to dress you in some heliotrope robes before bandaging all your wounds, finally getting you into her bed.

She sat beside you with a frown, her expression softening once she saw how peaceful you looked curled up in her bed, she shook her head before gently grabbing your hand, freezing with a gasp when she gets thrown into a vision.

It was a vision of the two of you together, happy and content, a family, running the community with her, in her vision you were dressed in a beautiful heliotrope sundress with a belly bump, pregnant with a baby while she stood beside you, her hand placed on your stomach as you smiled at her so bright, Charlotte swore you were the most beautiful woman in the world before she was lurched back to the present with tears in her eyes, blinking quickly with surprise.

“Oh…” Charlotte just let a breath of realization out, you were meant to be hers, you were a gift given to her, she found you in the wilderness, surely it wasn’t a coincidence she found you, you were meant to be hers, sure you were young, but Charlotte didn’t care, she would wait if you were not of age, but she knew she loved you right then and there, laying down with you as she gently wrapped her arms around you to hold you protectively, she didn’t know where you came from, or why you were alone and injured, but she was never going to let you suffer ever again.

She fell asleep with you that night, cuddled close as she held you close to her.

When you woke, all you could do was whimper in pain as your eyes opened, you were shocked as you woke and found yourself in a unfamiliar place with a unfamiliar woman holding you, freezing up, but Charlotte was already awake, cooing immediately when she saw you getting ready to panic, holding you down as she shook her head, “No, no, love, calm down, your safe, I promise, I found you out in the forest unconscious, you were injured and you have a fever.”

“Where am I?” You whimpered out with a raspy tone, your eyes squinting from the concussion as you looked up at her. She smiled down at you gently, brushing your hair back, “Your at Sunshine Honey Wellness retreat, we’re a intentional community designed to help people, like you and many others.”

You frowned, “what do you mean like me?” That’s when you noticed the fresh bandages on your body, your forearms bandaged neatly and one around your head, you were humiliated that she saw your cuts, you were ashamed of them.

Charlotte must have noticed your discomfort, placing her hand on your forehead delicately to feel your temperature and calm you, “Hey, Y/N, it’s alright, I promise, I’m gonna help you, you don’t have to worry.” You just frowned, this was weird and she was a complete stranger, yet she made you feel calm and taken care of, she was nothing but gentle and delicate with you, her hands gently pulling you and touching you, helping you sit up in bed before she sat up on her knees, “I’m gonna go get you something to eat, alright? It’ll just be some chicken broth for your fever, I promise it will help.” She spoke with such confidence before she got up to go make you some, leaving you alone with your thoughts in bed.

It was really quiet, you could see her through the doorframe moving gracefully in her kitchen, her eyes flickering back to yours every time she turned around like she was making sure you were still there, always giving you a kind shy smile though before she came back with a warm mug and a timid-warm look, carefully handing it to you, “Be very careful, it’s hot, love.” She spoke like a caring mother, which made your heart warm at her kindness, this woman you just met has been kinder than every single foster home you’ve been in and you’ve only been awake for a few moments. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” Charlotte spoke with a soft tone, rubbing your thigh gently with a reassuring squeeze, the action made you blush red, taking a sip of the broth with a sigh before speaking, “I just- thank you, I mean, I would probably still be unconscious and bleeding in that ditch if you hadn’t of found me.”

Charlotte flinches at the thought, frowning as she sighed and scooted up to sit by your side, “I’m glad I found you then, because I believe you were led here for a reason.” You frowned slightly with skepticism, your brows furrowing, “I don’t know about that.” She frowned at your words, she knew you were brought to her by the wilderness, you had to be, her visions were no jokes, taking your hand in hers, “Darling, I don’t know where you came from or what your past is, but I don’t care, I do believe you were brought to me and I swear on my life I will care for you and love you, if you let me…”

She spoke with such a caring expression full of concern and sympathy as you stared at her, she was even tearing up, she looked so worried it made your heart tug. You just didn’t know if you could trust a stranger, you just woke up here in a strange place and this woman- she seemed a little unhinged with how she was looking at you with such pure emotions, you knew she believed what she was saying as she brushed your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Please, stay, let me care for you, speak to me, tell me your story.” She mumbled out against your forehead before pulling back a bit with such a open expression of empathy, taking your hands in hers, “I promise, you can talk to me.” She seemed so honest, you wanted to tell her. You were still hesitant and scared, but you eventually decided to tell her, you told her the story of your horrible life in foster care, the abuse, physically, emotionally, sexually, you watched as Charlottes face twisted into agony at some of the stories you spoke of before her jaw clenched so tight at the mention of your foster father harming you.

You were slightly shocked at how pissed she looked, her jaw clenched and breath quickening with this dark look in her eyes before she noticed your expression and calmed herself immediately, pulling you into a hug, caressing your hair, “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry, I swear on my life you will never be subjected to that again!” She whimpered out against your shoulder, holding you tight and protective all while planning to send some of her followers to your past foster home to, “enlighten your foster parents in her own ways.”

But she wouldn’t tell you about that, she was just going to protect you from now on, you were hers and she was going to make sure of it, making sure to console you as you started to cry, holding you and rocking you with comforting coos and reassuring words before hours past and she laid you down again to sleep, making sure to lay by your side the entire night to watch you sleep and soothe any nightmares you may get, her hand on your back the whole night.

Over the next few weeks she watched you slowly start to adjust to live at the retreat, she smiled with joy any time you decided to come to one of her speeches, she knew you didn’t believe in what she preached, but that’s what made it more special, you only came to support her, to watch her, she felt her heart beat with pride any time her followers saw the two of you together. And you were slowly healing as well, even if you didn’t believe in most of the therapy she taught, she did use methods to help you heal, reassurance and safety being taught along with trust, you struggled with anxiety and fear the most, always flinching and jumping at sounds or unexpected touches, but she was making progress.

It was late again one night that you came back into her bedroom after a shower, drying your hair as Charlotte laid in bed with her glasses, reading before her eyes drifted up to you as you entered, smiling, “Hi, my love, may I speak with you about something?” She spoke carefully as you looked at her curiously, nodding with a small smile as you sat down while she crawled over to you to sit, “I’ve been waiting for you, since you came, and I- well I love you and I know you know that, but I- I want to fully love you.” She spoke out gently as she took your hands in hers, looking you in the eyes.

“I know your past, and I know how you feel about… intimacy,” Her words made you tense a bit, but she consoled you quickly, “You can say no, you can say stop at any time and I will, you can dictate how this goes, but I do love you… I love you so much and I want to bond with you, I want our souls to be one.” She spoke with such passion about the subject, scooting closer to cup your face in her hands, her brows furrowed with a worried frown at what you’ll say, “My love, will you let me?”

You were a little scared, Charlotte told you already about her… extra appendage weeks ago, you were shocked at first but then you thought about it, you knew Charlotte would be gentle with you, she loved you more than anything, staring at the honest look In her eyes before giving a hesitant nod, “Okay…” Her eyes widened with shock and lit up with joy at your words, nodding, “Okay? Your sure?” You smiled at her reassurance for consent, nodding again, “I want to, I-I do, im just scared.” She cood out at your words, helping you to get into bed and lay down as she stripped you with care, like unwrapping a present before straddling you,

“I swear to you, my love, I would rather carve out my own heart than hurt you.” She spoke with utter honesty and passion as she slipped out of her clothes, you always thought she was beautiful, but now? She looked ethereal, her dark hair down and her tan skin so soft against yours as her hands gently slid down your torso before moving to your thighs, sighing out as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, she couldn’t believe this was happening. You were submitting to her love, accepting your rightful role as her beautiful girl… she was happier than she’s ever been with you under her as she tended to you with such care.

“I swear I’ll be as gentle as I can.” She whispered out softly, tilting her head as she looked down at you with such adoration, a caring smile on her lips as she delicately trailed her fingers up your inner thighs before looking into your eyes to make sure you weren’t hesitating as she slowly spread your thighs open, she wanted to take her time to care for you and your body, scooting down the bed to sit and lay on her stomach between your thighs, kissing right above where your most intimate parts were before speaking, “Just relax, my love, your safe… right here with me.”

You just nodded as you looked down at her, she smiled up at you before delicately leaning down to place her lips against your wet folds, her eyes fluttered closed at your taste, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she darted out her tongue for a taste, moaning softly as she placed a hand on your tummy to keep you down. “Mm- my love… you taste so good…” You blushed profusely at her words, squirming with little gasps and small moans as you felt Charlottes tongue flick against your clit before she sucked, making you arch and whine with a jolt.

You wanted to reach down and grip her hair, which she noticed, you were just scared so she helped you, grabbing your hand in hers as she stroked your knuckles and guided your hand to her hair. You quickly realized what she was doing and placed your fingers in her hair to massage her scalp, the sensation only made her moan deeper, a husky tone to her voice before she was slipping her tongue inside you, causing you to choke out a eager moan at the wet muscle pushing inside you to spread and massage your sweet spot.

“F-Fuck, C-Charlotte-“ You whimpered out through shaky gasps, moaning and shivering. She only smirked and quickened her actions, pushing her tongue in deeper and nuzzling her nose against your clit with a hum, “Cum for me sweet girl, you can do it, cum for mommy…” With those words, it just shocked you into your orgasm, “Mommy!” You choked out a whimper as your body arches up, seizing as your legs locked around Charlottes head, her hands stroking your thighs as you arched up against her mouth, cumming.

After you finally started to slump back down against the sheets, Charlotte was already back ontop of you, sat between your thighs as she slid her hands up and down your sides, worshiping your trembling body as you lay blissed out, she smiled and tapped your temple, “Pretty girl… open those eyes for mommy.” She spoke gently, she wanted to make sure you were alright and that she still had your consent to continue, her hand pushing between your thighs, slender fingers slipping through your soaked folds to push inside you, making you moan, sighing out with pleasure, “Agh… C-Charlotte-“

Her smile widened and her brows raised at the reaction, cooing out as she pushed her fingers deeper, curling them, “Ohh, now I have your attention… I’m gonna make sure your ready for me, okay?” She asked with such a gentle tone you just nodded numbly with a soft moan, “O-Okay…” she smiled adoringly, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly while whispering out a, “Good girl.” Before her fingers sped up again, thrusting and curling inside you to stretch your walls and make you wetter for her cock. She was already so proud of you for letting her show you her love, you looked so beautiful laid under her as she tended to you.

It wasn’t long until her fingers worked you into yet another orgasm, crying out for her as she pinned you down, kissing you deeply while grinding her palm into your clit with her fingers buried knuckles deep in your weeping cunt, cum spilling out and dripping down onto the sheets below. That’s when she knew you were finally ready for her, you were soaked and sensitive, shaky, sweaty, and relaxed, so adorable. “There you go… yesss, let go, yes that it!” She moaned out with her eyes closed as she watched you cum before pulling her fingers out, moving back a little to spread to spread your thighs wider, her tone soft, “Are you alright, my love? May I continue?”

You just whined on a shaky moan, you were spent, you didn’t realize Charlotte would make you cum so many times, or take care of you so well for that matter, your thighs felt like jelly and you were so sensitive, nodding weakly, “Y-Yes, please… Charlotte, I want you…” you whimpered out for her. You wanted her so bad, you wanted to kiss her and feel her against you, inside you, you wanted to hear her moan and pant and watch her face twist in pleasure. She smiled so bright at your response, nodding before she scooted up a little more between your thighs.

“Fuck… gods… I’m so hard for you, love-“ she whimpered out, making you whimper as you looked down, she was right. Her cock was throbbing hard, it looked painful and she was just dripping precum, actually no. That was real cum, Charlotte had come just by fucking you with her fingers. Your eyes met hers as she blushed and leant down to kiss your cheek before moving to your lips. “Your so beautiful…” You smiled softly at her tone, she sounded so breathless, it wasn’t long before she made you breathless, when she first pushed her tip inside you it made you gasp with surprise but she consoled you and shushed you with a soft tone,

“Shh, Shh, it’s okay love…” You just bit your lip and arched for her as her hips bucked again, pushing herself inside you deeper, that action only made you moan louder, your nails digging into her back, “God-“ She moaned against your lips with a shaky gasp at the sound of your moans, her body shaking against yours as she adjusted to how tight you felt around her cock as she thrusted in and out, panting…. (Fuck, she hadn’t had sex in a long time, she was really out of practice)

Charlotte was already trembling and gasping, she couldn’t help it, you just looked so cute and she was struggling not to cum in you, but that all went away and burst the moment your legs wrapped around her waist to pull her deeper and you rushed up for a kiss to whine into her mouth, making her cry out against your lips with a growl as she slammed her hips down against yours, groaning and whining as she filled you with her seed, her hips bucking and grinding as she made sure to keep all of her love inside you, gasping, “Oh my god, oh my god, Y/N!”

You moaned out with her, feeling her cock shoving deeper and deeper inside you as you felt her spurt cum inside you, it made your thighs shake as you arched with a cry, squirting around her cock with a scream of her name from sensitivity, “Charlotte!!!” You both finished with heavy panting, Charlotte slumping down slowly and limply against you, disheveled and shaky, exhausted as she laid atop of you, kissing your cheek lazily, husking out, “Oh… I love you so much… please don’t ever leave me, okay? Y-you can’t-“ she whimpered out as she clung to you, you felt the tears against your neck, making you frown as you hugged her against you, kissing her forehead, “Charlotte, I could never leave you…” she just sniffled and nodded, “Good, because I need you…” And just like that, she had you.

#yellowjackets season 2 #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets showtime #lottie mathews #lottie x reader #lottie yellowjackets #yellowjackets #yellowjackets smut #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews smut

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