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#who in their right mind would animate this and just expect not to get away with it
whorediaries-09 · 3 days
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can i use you up?
pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s) - angst. a/n- a different take on my style of writing.
little train series masterlist.
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sirius wanted nothing more but to punch the wall beside him. his feet were atrociously restless and he felt something within him that he'd never felt before. he was sure his knuckles would turn white with the grip he had on the newspaper.
in a span of a few years, he'd escaped the treacherous hold of his nightmares, been accepted into a place he could happily-safely call home. he'd escaped the prison- the hell hole that bound him down, depriving him of the ever sweet freedom. he had found people he could keep close and call home.
little did he know his home was really only just the town where he'd be arrested.
he didn't know he'd be barricaded to his ghosts, tied together with his pasts and prison. he didn't know he'd been bound by shrieking dementors that'd reminded him of his memories he'd so carefully concealed within the corners of his mind.
and with each passing day, when his trial is put off, he feels his hope blur and the fire of rebellion seeded within the crevices of his heart die.
he feels his last bit of sanity fade.
*-
sirius doesn't get any visitors. he never expected any the moment he'd been thrown away into the cell. so when the dementors rattle down on the cell, he grumbles, turning and tossing onto the stone floor.
'sirius!' moody's loud voice bellows. sirius recognizes it, he's learnt to memorize it and hate it so very well.
'what is it alastor!' he screams back. he fills the rage fill him up again. he likes it when he's left alone - when he's not treated like an animal in a zoo. he feels revolting, it scars him into the very depth of his skin.
'the ministry has decided to look into your case once again.' alastor says. his fake eye moves erratically. sirius has learnt to not let the joy affect him. the dementors don't scare him, no. the memories do. so with lifeless eyes, a true contradiction to the gaze of sirius black, he stares at him.
'i thought the ministry was far too fed with injustice? did their big fat brains come back to senses again? or is today april fool's alastor?' he spits.
'black, mind it. i might change my mind.' he piercingly glares at him. he chooses to stay silent and not give him a reaction upon his statement.
'who's taking on my case?' he asks, silently. he's quietened down. he doesn't want the emotions to overrule his logics.
'i am.' a new voice replies. sirius stares for the source of the voice, suddenly interested.
you appear from the shrouded darkness. staring ahead into his piercing gaze, you stand determined on the floor. as formality you offer him your name. he shakes his head, gazing at your form up and down. you shiver under his cold gaze.
'what interests you in my case, young lady?' he asks. to establish your seriousness, you stare right through his cold gaze.
'the injustice.' you whisper. he stares at you before his face breaks into a mocking smile which turns into a harsh, cruel laughter. his head heats up with rage he's never felt before.
'injustice?' he spits. 'i've to believe suddenly all you have gotten your senses back and you should hold a trial for someone who was arrested without proper evidence?' he waits for you to say something. he notices a shift in your body language as you relax your shoulders and shift your eyes on the ground before staring into his again.
'i don't care if you believe me or not. what i can promise you is that i'll give you your freedom.' you say, so serenely. for a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy at your calm state. but it quickly dissipates when the rage controls him over again.
'is that so? what lovely words! why should i believe that you don't think i'm the killer? what confirmation do i get, young lady?'
'that's a fair point you've got there mr. black. but i believe you because...well there's no way you could've been the cold blooded killer. i can only promise you and give you the surety of my words. if you insist, i can make the unbreakable vow with you.'
'you can't do that,' grunted moody, 'it'll trigger the dementors.'
'fine. if he wants, i can make the vow on the day of the trial.' alastor grunts.
'no.'
'yes,' you emphasize. 'do you want me to make the vow? will you believe me then?' sirius stares at you. he tries to decipher through the curtain of your blank stare.
'yes.' he says, his voice quiet and seemingly calm. within him, however, he breaks. he hears the hurricane with his name on it, coming nearer and nearer. the blood rushes to his ears, and he buries the heat within himself.
so, he does his best to lay to rest all of the feelings that have been in his heart. but in his mind, they sink into a swamp.
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original idea posted by - @lilwnet
taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)
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hanrinz · 1 year
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I think about sae a lot with this picture
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writersdrug · 15 days
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Simon Riley x DogSitter! Reader
Next ->
After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.
A/n no warnings, just reader being ditsy. Based her personality off of Daphne Moon from "Frasier." Enjoy! (PS next chapter of IDNY and the solo fic for Ghost hurt/comfort are on the way!)
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Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.
Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.
But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.
The mission had gone well so far; everyone was booking it to exfil, hardly worrying about the few enemies left who could barely manage to fire their guns. Simon and Riley were sprinting to the heli, Simon already imagining how he was going to take a fat nap when he got back to base, when he heard it - amidst the sparce gunshots, Riley's pained yelp.
Simon had never shot someone so fast, but before he knew it, there was a bullet planted between the enemy soldier's eyes. Simon rushed to scoop Riley into his arms as she whined and howled - he loaded her onto the helicopter with Soap's help, hands shaking as he looked for the damage. Her right hind leg was bleeding, and every time he tried to look at it, she snapped her teeth in his direction with a shrill yap.
Simon couldn't hear Price as he promised to get her into surgery ASAP. He didn't register Gaz wrapping gauze around her leg as he carried her off the heli and into the medbay. He couldn't hear Johnny trying to comfort him as they stood in the hall, waiting for her to come out of the operating room so Simon could finally see her again. The only thing he could comprehend was her cries, her blood, and the fact that he was responsible for all this.
It wasn't a lethal injury, he knew that. But he assumed, and the vet later confirmed that she wouldn't be fit to continue working. And that terrified him. He had to continue working - what would happen to her? He wouldn't put her up for adoption, in fact, he'd nearly bit the head off the poor soldier who had suggested the idea. She'd be coming home with him, once she had fully healed, but then what? How would he take care of her when he had to go on missions?
He couldn't. Much to his chagrin, and as much as he hated the thought of her being under anyone else's responsibility, he was forced to hire a pet-sitter. He begrudgingly posted ads online, and even put his request up at the local doggie-daycare, despite having never sent Riley there. It didn't take long after bringing Riley home before people began to answer his ad, and he plucked a good handful of them to interview over the weekend.
So, there he was - sitting in the breakfast nook with Riley at his feet, silently judging each interviewee that had walked into his home. He was quite disappointed in the selection.
Simon had already decided 'no' to nearly every dog sitter that had answered his ad. He sat across from them as they described their skills and achievements, bored out of his mind as they treated the interview like it was a college application. He didn't want an egotistical, decorated twat caring for his dog... if Riley didn't care about this bloke being voted 'dog-walker of the month' by the doggie daycare, why should he?
He knew it came down to much more than that - but he was going by Riley's reaction, too. And so far, she was uninterested in all seven that he had interviewed thay day. She sat by Simon's feet, bum leg out and eyes zoning out on the stranger's shoes as they droned on. No one had actually paid much attention to her, instead focusing on impressing Simon.
He hated to admit it, but a boarding house for dogs might be the best option.
He had just scratched the second to last name off of his list of interviewees, pouring himself a cup of coffee at 4 pm, when a knock rapped at his door. He sighed, looking down at Riley; she was laying on her side, huffing at the fact that the random visits from random people was still going on.
"One more, eh?" Simon said, reaching down to ruffle her ears. She groaned through her nostrils in annoyance as he straightened out and walked towards the door.
He reluctantly opened it to find you standing there.
You, with nothing but your phone and keys, wearing a t shirt, oversized plaid, leggings, and sneakers. No folder full of resumes and reviews, no bone-shaped doggie bag holders... the only other thing you had was an apologetic look on your face.
"Hi." You said warily.
"Evenin'." Simon responded, leaning against the door.
You sighed. "I should let you know- well, aren't I being rude..." You rolled your eyes at yourself and stuck your hand out at him. You stated your name with a sheepish smile.
He stared at your hand for a second, before shaking it with his own. "Simon."
The way your eyes lingered on his hand after he had gripped it so firmly didn't go unnoticed by him - but you quickly regained focus. "Well - before you waste your time on me, I should explain: I didn't read the posting correctly, and I thought this was a house-sitting gig. Only just noticed when I checked the address before I left... figured I'd still stop by since I told you I would."
You were looking at the ground out of embarrassment at this point. Simon's brow furrowed as he observed you. House-sitting isn't horrendously different from pet-sitting... he thought. "Well-"
"But I love dogs!" You quickly interjected. "Had three of them growing up, two bullies and a golden! Loves of my life, they are- never a day I didn't walk them. Well, besides that one week for Becca's wedding- and when my Nan had that nasty virus and I had to check up... on her..."
Simon's raised brow must have made you realize the tangent you had embarked on, because you snapped your mouth shut. You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet.
Simon was the tiniest bit entertained. "And how's your Nan now?" He asked.
"Oh, much better." You said with a smile. "'Course, that was four years ago... she- she's alive, I mean! God, that sounded morbid, didn't it?"
Simon huffed out a laugh, before he stepped to the side and nodded his head towards the inside. "C'mon in - you came out this way, might as well chat. Could maybe use a house-sitter, too."
You muttered a quick 'thanks' and stepped inside, immediately taking note of how pristine and bare the home was. No decorations, only dark grey furniture with darker accents... the closest thing to decor was probably the mauve throw blanket over the back of the sofa.
"You like cleaning?" You speculated, following Simon into the kitchen.
"Not home enough to get it dirty." He replied nonchalantly, seating himself at the breakfast nook. He took a sip from his mug as he shoved a hand in his sweatshirt pocket. "Coffee?"
"Oh, no thanks." You shook your head politely. "Not now, anyways. I'll be up all-"
You cut your reasoning short when you spotted Riley, sitting still by Simon's feet. "Oh, hello!" You chirped, lowering yourself down to your knees and reaching your knuckles towards her, palm-up. "You must be Riley!"
She hesitated, then sniffed your knuckles, huffed, sniffed again, and thumped her tail slowly. She tilted her head back and looked at Simon with a questioning glance.
He chuckled, rubbing between her ears. He watched as you fished a small baggie from your pocket, taking out one of the lumpy, golden balls from the contents. You held it up for Simon to see.
"Peanut butter bacon cookie." You said, and Riley sniffed the air between her and the treat. "No sugars, no preservatives. Picked some up from the daycare on the way here."
Simon nodded once. "You can give-"
Before he could finish, Riley flawlessly snatched the cookie from between your fingers, downing it in a few bites. She licked her lips and stared at you as you laughed.
"Where are your manners?!" You said, poking her side. She followed your finger with her nose, searching for another treat.
You looked back at Simon. "I hope that was alright."
Simon shrugged, though he silently scolded Riley for accepting something from a stranger so quickly. "She'll survive."
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Over the next hour - which was twice as long as he had entertained anyone that day - Simon listened to you ramble about your qualifications. Except, you didn't mention reviews, awards, or self achievements. You talked about your family dogs (the two pitbulls, Rowena and Charlemagne, and the golden retriever, Donald). You described the time you took care of your neighbor's schnauzer and home when she had to make a last minute trip to Berlin for two weeks. You talked about the best trails for dogs based on the texture of the ground and the environment (the younger dogs liked Swan's trail more, due to the thicker, woody area; older ones seemed to like Ellington park, where it was more of a suburban area with smoother paths). You rattled on about how that damn husky in the apartment across from you is always yelling, and how you really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.
Simon listened to every word you said. You seemed to know more than just how to walk a dog - it was almost as if you knew their language. You didn't just live with them, you cared about their personalities and preferences. He had a subconscious appreciation for how you regarded them - despite trying to keep up the act thay he was unhappy about needing a dog-sitter, he liked you.
And clearly, so did Riley. She was laying at Simon's feet, completely relaxed, eyes flitting between you and your hand movements as you spoke. You would occasionally look down to her, as if you were letting her know that she was also a part of the conversation, and she would lift her head ever so slightly and stare back - like she was listening.
"- and she decided that the day before my biochemistry exam, she was going to take her frustration out on my notes! Papers everywhere, even my sticky notes were torn up! You'd think she had a personal vendetta against me, wouldn't you?" You looked down at Riley for affirmation, and she looked back at you and slapped her tail against the floor a few times.
Simon chuckled, then sighed. "Well- I think you're more than qualified for this, and I think she likes you." He nudged Riley with his foot, who looked at him and huffed.
Your eyes widened. "Does that mean I got the job?"
He nodded. "Don't know when I'll be deployed next, but it should be soon. I'll send you an email with Riley's routine, and if you want to make some extra cash, I'll include some things you can do around the house."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" You exclaimed. You leaned down to Riley, who reached her head out and sniffed the air between your faces. "Ya hear that girl? You're stuck with me!"
Simon chuckled and stood up, followed by you and Riley. "You can expect to hear from me by Tuesday. I'll give you the spare key the morning I head out."
You followed him out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Riley pushed past you to stay close to Simon's side.
"That's fine. My schedule's flexible, I don't do much besides babysit. Also, let me know her preferences, like where she likes to walk, treats, toys, things like that."
Simon opened the door for you and you stepped outside, turning to face him on the landing. "Also - glad you didn't go with Mitchell. Bloke's a fraud."
Simon's brow raised as he leaned against the door. "S'cuse me?"
"Daniel Mitchell. Saw him on your piece of paper there." You replied, making Simon look down at the crumpled list of interviewees in his hand. "He was NOT dog-walker of the month - in fact, he was turned away when he applied to work at the daycare. He treated the dogs like they were cats, for gods sake! Said they don't actually need to be walked n' you can just let them in the backyard for a few minutes. He's out of his head!"
You sighed, tugging your keys out of your flannel pocket. "Anyways, I should get going. I'll look out for your email!" You turned and departed down the walkway, not sparing Simon a second glance as you left him in the doorway. "See you soon!"
He watched you climb into your small car, returning the wave you gave him before you pulled out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. Simon felt an odd stillness in his home - you had came and went like a storm, and the only evidence that you were ever here was the small baggie of peanut butter and bacon cookies on the kitchen table. He sighed, closing his front door and looking down at Riley.
"She's either gonna be the best, or the worst." He said, running a hand down his face.
Riley let out a groan, which turned into a high-pitched growl. She shifted her weight back and forth on each foot anxiously.
He raised an eyebrow. "Want t' go see Johnny?" He asked. She barked at the familiar name, running to where her leash hung in the closet.
He supposed it was about time. He hadn't seen his team since she was sent home. He knew she was probably aching to see someone other than him right now, and he was honestly going a little stir crazy himself, after spending so much time in the normal, civilian world.
He moved next to her, grabbing the leash and snapping it to her collar. She immediately ran back to the door and waited for him to open it, and he laughed.
"A'right, a'right... but no tackling Price this time. Nearly took out a few of his teeth last time, ya ninny."
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Short dribble while I figure out writers block for I Don't Need You. This will have multiple parts but it will be a shorter fic. Let me know if you want to be tagged!
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he-calls-me-kitten · 6 months
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Show Me How (Pt. 1)
Poly GN! MC x OM! Characters
(TW: Gangbang, Poly, Messy, Orgy??? MDNI - some people requested and I had to try :P, but if y'all want a one on one HC's I can do that seperately)
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Intro
You trembled in excitement as Diavolo got off his seat to talk to the manager. You barely caught the words "special room" from the conversation and looked around you.
All of them looked at you like hawks about to feast. You weren't expecting your body count to go from 0 to 11 in one night.
"They're ready for us." Diavolo held out his hand and you readily took it. You felt them all follow close behind as you walked, hot and bothered before you had even taken your clothes off. Some of them, you were too nervous to notice who, brushed their palms and knuckles against your hips and thighs.
The room was dimly lit and the bed looked big and cushy enough for atleast 6 of you. There were couches placed next to big tinted windows showcasing the glowing city lights.
"Don't worry MC, I'll fuck you against those windows so we can see the pretty sights together. And we can be there as long as you like." Asmo whispered, casually caressing your behind before letting you go.
Taking your seat in the middle of the bed, you looked up at them like a innocent little lamb. "So...what happens now?"
Solomon was the first one on the bed, tilting your chin to look up at his towering form. "Since it's your first time, maybe you should start with a human before going up against the supernaturals?"
You nodded. You could hear Mammon grunt in annoyance. "Unfair!" Asmo whined. "Damn your advantage, Solomon!" Satan scowled.
All other protests drowned out as he pressed his lips against your parted ones, slipping his tongue in with ease. You reached out to hold him by the shoulders as he pulled you onto his lap.
"You can be the first to take MC, but I don't think they'll mind us lending a hand, would you, MC?" Barbatos joined you on the bed and so did Diavolo. Lucifer turned towards the windows but he knew he was watching you intently in the reflections.
"You're so... beautiful..." Solomon whispered as he undid the buttons on your school uniform. Barbatos and Diavolo pulled down the sleeves so you were only left in your undershirt.
"Indeed. Even your scent is divine." Barbatos latched his mouth on your neck right beneath your ear. Solomon proceeded to suckle your nipples through the thin cloth while undoing your pants. Diavolo kneaded the other side of your chest while stealing kisses off your cheek.
You were soaked faster than you expected, dripping and ready. "Hold on MC, we need to make sure you're stretched out enough to take him. To make sure it hurts less." You watched Barbatos take his glove off with his teeth and coat fingers with your precum and Diavolo followed suit.
"Ah- AHHHHH!" You moaned out load at the introduction of one finger right after the other. As small as you were compared to them, it took them no time at all to find where it pleasures you most.
Beel inched dangerously close to the bed. "Could I have a little taste?" His eyes were trained on your slick and glistening beads of sweat on your back. You nodded lightly. You felt the bed shift with his weight as fell onto Solomon's chest, your ass hoisted up against Beel's mouth.
"Beel! Wait!" The his warm tongue on your cold skin was already too much and you were still so sensitive from the last act. And it took him seconds to go from gentle to feral animal.
"MC...you taste so good...please just a little more." He pleaded. You had tears of overstimulation by the time Solomon pulled you away from him.
"Alright, alright I think my adorable apprentice is more than ready for me now." He huffed annoyed as he pumped his dick against your stomach. You gasped at the sheer size of it. Your head spun knowing that it's only going to get bigger from here on.
He rubbed the tip against your hole before thrusting. You felt full but he wasn't even half way. "So tight for me...don't worry I'll be gentle." He went deeper with every thrust, slowly splitting you open.
"Breathe...don't tense up, relax your muscles. Just like that." It was almost like Solomon was in his room teaching you magic. You whined as he finally fit in all of himself and you whimpered at his size. "That's it. There's my perfect little apprentice."
"Hurry it up already!" You could hear Mammon growl, impatient. You tried to look back at him only to see him undoing his belt, the tent in his pants huge and uncomfortable. In fact, almost everyone had the same problem.
Levi was facing the wall, trying to jerk himself off discreetly. Belphie was sitting down gently rutting against his pillow. Satan was staring intently with crossed arms, sizing you up to imagine everything he wanted to do with you.
Solomon and you came at the same time, gasping and clutching to each other for support. You marked him with your nails and he marked you with his cum pouring out of your hole. "I'm so sorry I couldn't pull out, MC...you felt too good."
"That's it! My turn!" Mammon's patience ran out as he grabbed you by the arms and flipped you over. The sight of Solomon's essence inside you fueled his anger. He was about to fuck you like a dog.
"You need to learn to share, Mammon. MC belongs to all of us, after all." Asmo slithered his way under you somehow, running his dainty fingers up and down your chest, his manicured nails lightly grazing your nipples. "So cute."
"Asmo n-not there!" You trembled at his lips leaving lipstick marks over your tummy and to the sound of Mammon furiously unbuckling his pants. You felt both their erections on your thighs before Mammon shoved two fingers inside you, just to see if you could take him. "You belong to me now. Don't you dare scream anyone else's name but mine."
Latching his lips on yours, he thrust himself inside like a brute. You screamed his name into his mouth through his rough thrusts and tightening grip on your waist. "M-Mammon please not so rough!" You pulled away from his mouth to breathe.
You were barely registering the stretch of Mammon's length when Belphie appeared in front of you sheepishly. "Could you...let me use your mouth?" He ran his fingers over your lips tenderly. You parted your lips for him, half dazed and felt his tip trace your lips before putting it in.
"Couldn't wait his fucking turn. Why ya gotta be so pretty, MC? Hah...fuck you're still so tight.." Mammon hissed at Belphie lazily thrusting inside your mouth. Mammon's rough pace coupled with Belphie's slow one was so overwhelming you came again before long. "So good...so so good for me, MC..." The sleepy demon praised through gasps.
You were crying again as you came on Mammon's dick. He spilled out on your hips, dripping down your thighs. "I can't anymore...not right now...please..." You begged. Asmo cooed and hugged you. You fell asleep on his shoulder.
You woke up to Satan cradling your head on his lap, and Simeon running his fingers through your hair. "Let yourself relax, MC. The rest of us can wait patiently for our turn."
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bluejutdae · 28 days
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• friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jeongin x Noona!reader
Chan , Minho, Changbin Jisung , Felix, Seungmin
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genre: friends to lovers
Warnings: none
The restaurant is nice, the food is delicious. Your date is horrible.
That’s what you get for trusting dating apps and giving in the peer pressure of your colleagues and downloading the aforementioned app. On paper, this guy is perfect: tall, pretty, loves animals and has an interesting job. In reality he’s an incel and, despite your protests, decided to sit on your side of the table so he can try and cop a feel every now and then.
You even tried texting Changbin for an easy way out of this date but your friend isn’t answering. It would have been useful having him here, since he’s good at looking like a bad guy… and his arms and shoulders help a lot. You have half a mind to text Chan, or Minho, since they’re also good at scaring people off, but you’re not sure you want to bother them.
The one person you’re absolutely not going to text (and not going to tell about this date to) is Jeongin. It’s already awkward enough that you have a massive crush on him, you’re not going to ask him to rescue you.
Your crush will go away eventually. Doesn’t matter that you could celebrate its first birthday in just a few weeks, it’s just a silly little crush. This is what you tell yourself, at least.
Your feeling started growing little by little but, the moment you realized, you also realized you were fucked. And not in a fun way. Why did you have to fall for the pretty, younger, talented guy who is guarded by 7 hyungs like they’re bodyguards? On top of this, you’re pretty sure Minho’s onto you. You can see it in his eyes anytime you laugh a little too loud at Jeongin’s jokes and you look at him a little too long.
Unbeknown to you, Jeongin is looking at you right now. And he’s boiling. He’s so ready to jump the guy that keeps scooting closer to you, uncaring of the fact that you keep scooting away from him. The same guy keeps touching your arm and your hair despite you asking him not to do it.
Jeongin is a time bomb. And he’d have intervened sooner, but how is he going to explain the fact that he’s here because he followed you after he heard you talking about going on a date? One thing is having a crush on his noona, another thing is following her to make sure she’s not going home with her date safe.
To Jeongin, his noona is so pretty, so kind, so perfect, no one deserves her.
Sadly, not even him.
Not that he has a chance.
He can’t forbid you to go on dates, but he can make sure you’re okay and that you’re gonna think of him while you’re with other guys. So he takes out his phone and quickly types a text.
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You spot Jeongin in the restaurant and a thousand questions start wandering in your mind. Why is he here? And why did he text you knowing you were there? What was that about the guy being a loser? In your peripheral vision you see him pay for his dinner and come closer to your table, so you prepare yourself to pretend he’s your cousin or friend whom you haven’t seen in a while and you want to catch up with. What you don’t expect is for him to sit so close to you he’s almost in your lap, with an arm around your shoulders and a sexy smirk on his face.
“Noona, you’re too pretty to be wasting time with this guy.” he says, and his voice is loud, too loud. Your date starts to protest his words and ask questions, but you’re too taken aback by Jeongin’s behavior to answer. The younger guy is cocky, his usually cute smile is now a cruel smirk when directed to your date and when directed to you is… flirtatious?
“Innie” your tone is almost admonishing, but you don’t really have it in you to reprimand him.
“And who is this kid?” asks your date, after having tossed his napkin on the table. His stand is one of dare towards Jeongin and his tone is provocative.
“This kid is the one who’s taking her home.” Jeongin replies, a mocking smile on his lips. It’s time you step in, or this can get ugly way too fast. With a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder you try to tell him to tone it down a little and with a polite and contrite expression you turn to your date. “I think our night should end here. I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time, but we’re not really a good fit.”
“And you’re really gonna go home with this kid?” You take a deep breath. You might put up with someone insulting you, but you don’t like the tone he’s using to talk about Jeongin. You roll your eyes and signal Jeongin to get up so you can leave. Reaching into your purse you grab your wallet to pay for dinner. “Yes, I'm gonna go home with him. Try to be less of a creepy pushy asshole and maybe one day some girl might consider going home with you. In the meantime, I hope women will recognize quickly what type of men you are.”
You grab Innie’s hand, who in the meantime is giving the guy a gloating smile, and make him follow you outside or the restaurant. You try to let his hand go but he holds your with determination and leads you to a close playground. You sit on the swings and for a minute you’re silent, swinging in the night, enjoying the fresh air.
“I need you to explain, Innie.”
“Do I have to, Noona?” What is he going to tell you? The truth or a lie? You nod in his direction and then occupy yourself with trying to spot a few stars in the night sky, waiting for him to explain. He seems to think about what to say, hands fidgeting in his lap and his teeth worrying his lip.
“I followed you.” Your head turns towards him so fast you give yourself whiplash. “You what?”
“I was worried! You decided to go on a date with a guy you met on a dating app!” His tone sounds accusing, but you know him enough to know there’s something more. “And I was right. The guy was an asshole. I wanted to punch him when he kept touching you even though you tried to get at a safe distance.”
“Innie… I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me. You don’t have to… to protect me.” He makes a face like he just ate something he hates. “How did you even find out about the date?”
“I heard you talking on the phone. Sorry I followed you.”“It’s okay, just don’t do it anymore, uh? Let Noona worry for you, not the opposite. I’m the older one.”
You thought it was the right thing to say, but apparently it was not, because Jeongin stopped swinging on his swing and he’s making an expression you don’t want to see in his face. He looks sad and almost in pain.“Jeonginnie?” You ask in a tiny voice, trying to understand what was that you said that can justify his reaction.
“Is this all I’ll ever be? Just a dongsaeng?” He kicks softly at the sand at your feet, head bowed down and words hushed.
“What do you mean? You’re my dongsaeng. Why is that bad?” He shakes his head and doesn’t answer but you can hear him sigh.
“It’s not bad, just…” he shakes his head again and gets up. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
“Wait, Jeongin…” despite your words, he keeps slowly walking away from you, so you follow him quickly until you reach him. Walking side by side you try to think back to yours and his words, but you can’t seem to grasp the problem.
“Jeongin, what’s wrong?” He keeps walking and when you try to hold his hand to slow him down and face him, he takes it away. Uh, this hurts.
“Innie, c’mon, talk to me. Noona’s sorry, okay? Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.” Maybe he’s angry he feels like he has to watch your back? “I won’t make you worry anymore, that’s my job since I’m older.” The moment your last word is out of your mouth, he stops on his track.
“Stop saying that, you’re making it worse!” He's loud now. Which isn’t uncommon, but not in this kind of circumstances.
“I don’t understand.”
A gust of wind makes you shiver and, to fight the sudden cold, you hug yourself. You hate fighting with Jeongin, and luckily it doesn’t happen often, but now you’re having an hard time understanding what even the fight is about.
Seeing you shiver, Jeongin takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. “No, Innie. You’ll be cold like that, you need it more than I do!” He holds it around your shoulder with more force.
“Stop, stop, stop it! Stop treating me like a kid. I know I’m younger and I’m just a kid but stop always making it so painfully obvious. I know I’ll never be more than your dongsaeng, I know you’ll never look at me and see a man, but fuck, stop doing this all the time. Once, just once, let me take care of you. Let me be something more than just a kid in your eyes.”
“But-“
“No, I get it, okay? It’s embarrassing knowing a younger guy has a crush on you, you probably laugh about it with your other friends because it’s pathetic, I’m pathetic, but Noona… today I got to help you and I was so proud of myself but then that asshole called me a kid and you didn’t correct him. And I realized that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be just a kid to you.”
Being young, being considered the youngest and therefore the one who needs coddling and help is one of the things he hates the most. And you knew, you talked about how he hates being babied by his hyungs. You prided yourself for being someone who wouldn’t treat him like that. Yes, you let him get away with things cause he’s endearing and your dongsaeng, but you didn’t realize you’re part of the problem.
On one thing he’s wrong, tho. You don’t see him as a kid, you do consider him a man, but telling him wouldn’t be effective. So you do the next best thing you think will send the right message. You kiss him.
His lips are warm against yours and, after the initial shock, he’s kissing you back. Your hands raise to reach around his neck and rest there, holding him close to you
Soon, too soon, he’s moving away a little to look at you.
“What’s this?”
“You’re wrong about something, Jeonginnie. I’ve always looked at you and seen a man. I didn’t know you have a crush on me, or I would have done this sooner. Because I have a crush on you. And I felt like I had no right to want you.”
His smile is blinding, and you love to see him like this.
“You have a crush on me, Noona?”
“I do. Is that okay?” Instead of answering you with words, he kisses you again and his smile can be felt in the kiss.
“Innie, I know you’re not a kid. But can I still call you my baby?” The wind carries his laugh and you feel so happy you want to dance.
“As long as I’m yours, you can call me whatever you want.”
Hand in hand, his jacket still on your shoulders, you walk home and you’re the happiest you’ve been in a while.
(The day after, he wakes up with a sore throat and a mild fever. You don’t have it in you to scold him, and you promised yourself not to baby him, so you let his hyungs do that and you play the role of a good girlfriend and you cuddle him in his bed.
When Minho enters the room and sees you this close, you swear he’s threatening you in Morse code or telepathically: if you hurt him, you’ll have to answer to us all. But you’ll do the same, so you nod and give him a little smile. Deal.)
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Note
vox more than anything fic ending with fluffy makeup sex is all i need :,))) LET ME HOLD THAT TV MAN!!!
I didn't end up adding the spice because it didn't flow naturally with how this came out. I do headcanon that Vox would 100% try to initiate spicy times during a makeup because he wouldn't know how to handle the emotional vulnerability in any other way. Homeboy hasn't exactly had any healthy fight aftermaths. Hope yall are ready for the fluffy pain <3
Tag List: @luzzbuzz
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More Than Anything Part 3 [Vox x Reader]
Part 1
Part 2
Part 2.5 (Vox POV)
Things at the Vee's Tower seemed relatively normal when you stepped into the lobby. It felt a little weird if anything. When Vox was upset, it could shut down the entire tower for days on end if it was something more serious. You didn't hear the hum of the overbearing generators that would keep things running during his fits and your worry only grew as you stepped into the elevator. You swallowed down your anxiety as you scanned your badge that would let you onto the elite floor where the penthouses of the Vee's were at the top.
Did something happen to Vox? Was he not here for some reason? Where would he go? Did he... just not care?
Anxiety swirled in your mind as the elevator doors slid open. You saw Velvette on the couch scrolling through her phone and the young overlord perked up when she saw you.
"Bout fucking time," she groaned as she pocketed her phone and got off the couch. "Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass it's been to babysit the man-child?" Velvette poked at your chest and you couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes as she frowned at you. "You owe me for this."
Ninety percent of hell didn't see past Velvette's tough-as-nails exterior and if it hadn't been for the time you'd spent with the Vee's due to your relationship with Vox, you doubt you would have ever seen through the cracks in her demeanor either. For all her bark and bite, you could tell she cared for Vox and Valentino deeply. She wouldn't look so damn exhausted right now if she didn't.
"I'll make it up to you," you sigh in relief as you drop your bag to the side. "Where is he?"
To say you were less than pleased when you saw the door held shut by the smokey chains of Valentino's magic was an understatement. You were pissed. While you still felt a semblance of gratitude for the other Vee's keeping Vox from doing anything rash, you were going to tear them both a new one for keeping him caged like a fucking animal.
Velvette lifted her hands and got the cue to leave as you triggered your demon form and slashed Valentino's magic to wispy shreds. You yanked open the door and your eyes searched the room for Vox maniacally. There we no cameras and the windows had been covered with some sort of blockers. It looked like the Vee's had the sense to leave him with some comfort items and non-tech-involved things to pass the time, but the only technology you saw was some ancient Nokia-looking phone lying by his foot that he wouldn't be able to use to teleport out of the room.
"Vox?" You breathed as you saw him curled up in a corner with his screen buried against his knees.
His head whipped up and he breathed your name, only to curse as his body glitched hard from the prolonged stress.
"Y̶o̸u̴ ̸c̶a̷m̴e̸ ̸b̶a̸c̸k̴?̷," he asks, and your heart aches as you watch him flinch at the static in his voice.
"Oh hun, come here," you sigh as you get down on your knees and pull his screen towards you. You didn't know much about tech, but his personal repair sinner had shown you some of the basics to take care of Vox if anything ever got out of hand.
You reached around the back of his head and did a hard reset for him, holding him close to you as he went limp against your chest. When Vox powered back up, he flinched hard and pushed himself away from you, backing up with wide eyes and frantic breathing before he processed it was you who had been holding him and not Valentino.
"Woah! Easy," you gasp, not expecting the sudden movement. You look over him and instantly regret leaving him for as long as you had. "What... What happened?"
Vox's heart was pounding rapidly in his chest as flashes of Valentino's manipulative words flitted through his mind. The promises of affection if he crawled back. The venom in his voice as he told Vox you'd never love him again. The back and forth between gentle lies and cold hard truths. The one time he almost, almost caved into Valentino's whims.
With a shaky breath, Vox stomped down on as much of his weakness as he could and turned away from you. "It's not important."
"Like hell, it's not," you frowned as you reached toward him, only to pause as he flinched at the tone in your voice.
It was obvious there was a whole new can of worms to handle and most likely a moth to strangle. But you steady yourself and take a deep breath, deciding to take things one step at a time.
"I'm sorry for leaving," you start slowly as you sit properly on the floor with Vox. "I was scared and angry and processing everything. I needed space. But I should have at least texted you back or checked in. I didn't..." your voice wavers. "I didn't think that..."
"It's fine," Vox sighed. "I get it. What I don't get is why you're here. Why did you come back?"
"I was always going to come back," you say as you reach towards him slowly. Your heart ached to know he had genuinely started to believe you'd just abandon him, but given the pieces of the unsettling image of what happened while you were gone, you understood where it was coming from.
Vox looks at you and hesitates before he leans into your touch and lets you cup the side of his face. "I was angry and hurt and scared," you admit. "I needed time to process my feelings. I didn't want to say something I'd regret."
You shake your head and chuckle, "I'd say I should have known better, but this is our first big fight now that I think about it. It's uncharted territory for us both."
Vox was silent as he slowly reached up and took your hand. He let out a shaky breath as he looked down. "I've... any connection I've had with someone. It's never... survived this sort of thing. Once shit hits the fan, that tends to be the end of it. I thought... I thought you were gone for good."
"I won't let you think that ever again," you say as you cup the other side of his face with your free hand. You make him look at you, but you're gentle. "We'll talk about this. I'm in this for the long run, you dorky TV man."
"But I tricked you," Vox shook. His face flickered between heartbreak and frustration. "I stole your soul. You have no reason to fucking t̵͍͌r̸̰̈u̵͉̍s̸̯͛ẗ̶̫ me."
"I love you," you say without hesitation. Vox's eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to retort, but you shake your head and stop him. "You did a bad thing. You did break my trust. But I know why you did it. Loving you doesn't mean I'll forgive you every time you cross a major boundary, but it does mean that I will do whatever it takes to worth through the bullshit together," you say softly.
Your thumb swipes over Vox's screen as you feel him tremble in your hold. "You're worth that effort to me, Vox."
"Why?" Vox asked as his eyes darted over your face as if the answer to his confusion would be found there. He didn't understand. How could you come back? How could you want to forgive him? How could you be here in front of him, looking like he was the one who hung the stars in the sky rather than the one who drew souls to their doom like a siren song on a screen?
You kiss his forehead and pull him close as he shakes harder in your arms. "W̸̻͝h̴͖̒y̵̞̍?̵̝̕"
His claws dig into the back of your shirt as he hangs onto you like a lifeline. "I̵ ̷d̴o̶n̵'̶t̶.̴.̶.̵," Vox growls in frustration at the emotion that sticks in his throat. "I can't... I don't d̷e̴s̶e̷r̷v̴e̷ this."
"Because loving you has never been about what either of us deserves," you sigh as you kiss his head. "It's because despite everything, I know I could never replace you. So I'm willing to put in the work if you are."
A broken sob ripped itself from Vox's chest unwillingly as he held you tighter. Your heart broke, knowing this very well could be the first time anyone had actually tried to stick around after any of his fuck-ups. You held him close, rubbing his back as he worked through his emotions. You were there for him as he glitched and let out an anguished scream as everything he'd been holding in for so long finally poured out.
You don't know how long it is before he finally calms down. He looks up at you and you know his eyes would be bloodshot from the breakdown if that was how his screen functioned. He let out a deep breath and you smiled softly as he cupped your cheek.
"This isn't the first time I've thought you didn't belong down here," Vox admitted. His voice was hoarse from exhaustion and the pure angst session some cruel fucker decided would be entertaining to put him through. If he ever found that bitch, he'd wrangle her neck.
You laugh as you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes as you finally see the familiar spark in his eyes for the first time since you'd come back. "Nah, you know heaven wouldn't know the first thing about how to put up with my shit."
Vox barked out a tired laugh. "Damn right, they wouldn't. You're a menace."
"Yeah," you giggle as you press a kiss to his cheek. "But I'm your menace."
Vox reached up, his fingers tangling softly in your hair as he brought you in for a proper kiss. "Yeah. You're my menace. And I love you, more than anything."
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crazyoffher · 8 months
Text
TAKE YOUR PICK.
wednesday addams x fem!vampire!reader
summary: a werewolf attack leaves you in need of aid, though you find yourself aided in more than just your wounds.
warnings: smut (18+) — slight oral (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as “cock” at one point, slight face-slapping, teasing, dirty talk, virgin!r, withheld orgasm. -> mentions of blood, wounds, werewolf attack, medical equipment, mentions of kidnapping, scarring, and dom!w + sub!r.
word amount: 6900+
a/n: yes you read that right, 6900+ words. i guess i beat you, didn’t i, my ⭐️ anon 😉.
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“Our successor greets us with torture by this grouping.” Her words were dull, and as you turned to face her, you were met with her eyes boring into yours. You cocked your head to the side, easily bypassing a tree that would’ve hit anyone else. Your instincts were stressed by your venture into the woods with the murderous woman you labeled your enemy accompanying you.
Your skin itched. Badly. Though you would rather burn in the flames she created than take action for relief, you never dared to let the shorter girl win at her former pleas to have her partner switch, labeling it as having to not deal with your pollen allergy, but everyone knew of your rivalry.
It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.
“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.
Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  
You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.
You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.
“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.
You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 
Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”
“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.
Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.
You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 
A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.
You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.
“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.
The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.
“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.
She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.
You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”
You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”
“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.
Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.
Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”
Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”
“No.”
“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”
Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.
With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.
“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”
“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 
“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”
“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”
She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.
“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”
“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”
“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”
Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.
A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.
You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.
You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 
You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 
You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-
Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.
“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.
You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.
You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.
Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.
Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.
The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.
What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.
She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.
“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.
In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”
Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.
A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”
“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.
“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.
After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”
“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”
“What?”
Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.
“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”
She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”
At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”
Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”
Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.
It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.
Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”
"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.
“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”
“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”
Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”
“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”
You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 
“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.
Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.
The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.
Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.
When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 
“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.
You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.
“Why?”
“What?”
“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”
It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.
Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.
Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.
Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”
“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.
“Add-”
“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”
“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”
You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”
“Addams-”
“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”
Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.
“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”
Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.
Huh?!
Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.
That’s what she presumed to regret. 
But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.
Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.
“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”
Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.
She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.
“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.
You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.
Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.
Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 
And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?
“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.
“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”
“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”
Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.
While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.
Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”
She was simple. “Relax.” 
On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.
Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.
“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.
You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.
You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.
She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.
“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”
She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.
“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.
Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.
The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”
You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.
Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.
And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.
Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”
Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.
One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 
Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 
“Don’t cum.”
The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”
The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 
The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.
“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”
You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.
Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.
Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.
“La mia dolce metà,” she whispered, hands running down your body and to your hips, “I’m not done with you just yet.” The edges of her lips tugged ever so slightly when she dipped her head down to meet your core, leaving you to moan with delight as your hand found it’s way back to her hair.
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boop-le-snoot · 9 months
Text
masterlist
dirt
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sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...
title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.
I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl
cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).
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He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.
"The fuck, girl?"
You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"
You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.
"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."
You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.
"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.
Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.
Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.
"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."
Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.
You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.
"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.
Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.
And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.
He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.
It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.
His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.
"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.
Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.
"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.
When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.
Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.
"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."
You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.
He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.
"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.
"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."
You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.
"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"
He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.
"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.
You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"
You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.
"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.
A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.
"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.
Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.
And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.
With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.
Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.
"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.
And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.
Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.
Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.
"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.
Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.
Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.
"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.
He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.
"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."
"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.
It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.
The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.
The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.
"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.
Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.
Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.
Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.
You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.
Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.
Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.
Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.
You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.
But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.
In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.
But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.
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I don't know what to say for myself
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multific · 8 months
Text
In the High of the Feeling
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Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader
Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink
Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.
A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18! 
A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.
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Being an animagus had its ups and downs.
Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.
He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.
It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.
This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.
Extremely nervous.
You knew what spring brought.
It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.
It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.
And with spring, came your heat.
A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.
Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.
And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.
But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.
You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.
You understood it was only nature, but still... no.
"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"
"Nothing like that... it's-"
"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.
"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.
"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.
You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.
"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.
"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"
"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.
"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.
You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.
"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."
"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.
"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."
"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.
"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."
"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"
"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."
"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"
"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.
"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."
"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.
The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.
You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.
Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.
The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.
You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.
How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.
How he smelled and felt like.
How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm. 
The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.
You wanted him to ravish you. 
To completely fill you up and have your own litter. 
You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.
"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.
You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.
You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.
He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.
When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.
Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.
Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.
"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.
"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.
"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.
"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.
Your voice was filled with lust.
"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.
Men are such easy creatures.
"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes. 
"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."
"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."
He grabbed your waist with both hands.
It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.
"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.
He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.
"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.
He lost.
Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.
"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy. 
He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.
Just what you have been craving for.
You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.
He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.
He needed to have control.
You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.
But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.
Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.
"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess. 
If he was far too gone, you were beyond.
"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.
He loved it.
He loved you.
You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.
His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.
All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.
Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.
His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned. 
Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.
"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end. 
"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.
Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.
He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.
"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.
You felt so tight, warm and wet.
And feeling you cum around him did the trick.
He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock. 
It felt like heaven.
You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.
You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it. 
It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.
"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."
"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."
"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."
"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.
"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."
"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.
"Huh?"
"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."
Mattheo looked at the ceiling. 
He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.
But he can definitely get used to this.
Twice a year.
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oncomingnight · 3 months
Text
Yandere! boyfriend x fem reader
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Malik is the sweetest guy you've ever come across and his charisma doesn't even come at a cost. You've never met anyone, no matter the gender, that was as attentive and humorous as him. Malik could care less if he's making himself look like a fool as long as he's graced with the presence of your heartwarming smile. His humor consists of material you'd only ever expect to hear out of the mouth of a teenage boy which is what makes his jokes so much funnier.
He doesn't need an international holiday in order to spoil you with stuffed animals, sweets and handwritten letters, he already gifts you all those things for the simple fact that he wants to. Malik is always showing up to your shared apartment with a bouquet of flowers in hand as he feels like the worst man to ever walk the Earth if he does otherwise.
Letting you pay for yourself is something he'll never allow you to do, as long as he's with you of course. He can't exactly stop you from doing so if he's not physically next to you (rare occurrence)but he has his own way of handling that issue. He'll notice if you seemed to have purchased something with your own money while he wasn't around, and immediately reach into his pocket in an effort to pay you back.
"You look so pretty, baby. Is that a new lipgloss?" "Yeah it is, I bought it when we were at the market the other day!" "Oh yeah? How much was it, baby? I'll give you your money back, just let me know if you want something next time, okay? I don't care if I look like I'm busy with something else, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you."
While we're on the topic of time I think this is the perfect moment to mention the fact that Malik is extremely possessive over not only you but also your time. Nothing gets him more upset than when the two of you are out together at a public setting and your friends attempt at pulling all of your attention away from him. In reality, your friends are simply making conversation with you and they actually make several attempts at including him in the conversation. This, however, doesn't matter to Malik one bit, he can see right through their 'good people' personas.
Malik practically battles with other people when it comes to having your full attention on him. It's not even a case where you're not appreciating how greatly he treats you, no. He is the one who is urging himself to be the absolute best for you before someone attempts at lifting you off of your feet and away from him. He finds it incredibly comedic when others attempt at acting as if they could ever understand or know you as well as he does. There have been many instances where he's gotten you the perfect gift and he just can't help but look on at the other party attendees with pity, as they all now know that you won't be as satisfied with their presents.
Is Malik a possessive boyfriend (soon to be husband)? Yes. Although, this doesn't mean he won't allow you to have girl trips/sleepovers. If you're having a girls trip in an area with a completely different time zone, this will not prevent Malik from staying up as late and early as he needs in order to call and wish you a good morning.
He will keep you on the phone for extremely extended amounts of time (not that you mind). Your friends could try their absolute hardest at being irritated towards his constant need to be near you and to call you but they just can't. Malik is so sickeningly sweet to you that they'd be seen as bitter people that are just jealous due to the fact they've never been as loved and cared for as you are now.
Malik didn't exactly grow up in the most accepting house hold, even as a child, he felt as though he was constantly walking on eggshells with his parents. His parents were raised with extremely aggressive religious views that would quite obviously intimidate the average person, this caused him to be raised in an environment where even cartoons most people deemed as 'kid friendly' were forbidden. Anything that wasn't blatantly religious was seen as unholy, his parents wanted him to uphold the stereotypical attitude of toxic manhood that even him doing simple acts of skincare were seen as something to 'look out for'.
This extremely damaged environment he was raised in just may be the reason as to why he doesn't speak to his family anymore and why he loves so ferociously, like a rabid animal. I don't know though, it's not like I make the rules or anything.
He absolutely adores doing anything and everything romantic with you, especially within the comfort of your own home. When the holidays roll around, there's nothing he loves more than brewing up two cups of iced coffee, sporting matching onesies, baking Christmas cookies and lighting up the fire place as the moon shines into your shared bedroom window.
Well, there is one thing he loves more than all of that.
That's you.
Edit: credit to @cafekitsune for the divider ♡
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yandere-sins · 10 months
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Do you still write for yandere omega? That piece was soooo good oml, can you write an aftermath or just a snippet of day to day life with them? Yan omegas are so rare and they are rarely explored and tours really set a tone on what they could do. Its the ultimate ploy, nobody can suspect an omega desiring a simple beta, simply too outrageous to think
I never really stop writing for anything (that might be the actual problem, lol). Thanks for your request!
Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content!!
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Tap, tap, tap.
Their fingers swept over the keyboard on their lap, restless and excited, generating countless words per minute. A smile played on the omega's lips, giddy and amused as they scrolled and replied to endless comments, the flood of new notifications never-ending. The success of their latest video—a video showing you and them immersed in heat and rut for hours to no end—was something that not even they could have expected. Still, they kept their online banking up, watching donations and premium membership fees roll in by the second, putting a wide grin on their face.
Humming in satisfaction, they halted their fanservice, glancing up from the blinding laptop screen to you, sitting on the chair next to them, still dazed as you ate your cereals. You two had been holed up for days in your nest, the whole production of your very first video having ruthlessly dragged you through all emotions known to mankind and leaving you exhausted. Not exhausted enough to refuse the food your omega procured for you, but enough so that you didn't argued or cried anymore while shoveling colorful, animal-shaped cereals and milk into your mouth. 
Even like this—disheveled, still a little crusty (since you didn't want to get out of your curled position and shower with them after they stopped the recording), and sore—you were no less their beautiful beta than you were down in the love nest, ravaging your omega like a goddamn beast. 
You had visibly turned off reality around you, sitting there completely out of it as you ate, heading your omega no mind. What you must be thinking about was as puzzling as it was unconcerning to them, their own thoughts had always been louder in their head. However, as they watched you, they grew antsy, missing your full attention on them like when you two were buried in sheets and in the spotlight of their production, even though it had been painful at times. But even pain was beautiful to some, and your pain was a gift to them, just like your love was. They missed your hands all over them, spit and sweat mixing as your bodies moved in perfect harmony with each other. Now, despite sitting close enough to you that they could easily reach out and hold your hand, it was not close enough.
They hadn't brought you here for you to be away from them. All the money and time that went into building, securing, and completely erasing the location of this mansion had not been so you two would be apart from each other. Not for you to have that kind of freedom, one that the omega didn't want for you or for them. 
It was bittersweet to abandon their beloved fans for you, the very same people who made it possible for you two to be together. Who supported and encouraged the omega, no matter what, as they worked their butt off for more and more of their attention. And yet, the omega announced their farewells for the day, promising more exciting content to come tomorrow before logging off and closing the laptop.
It was your attention they wanted. Only yours. 
It had only ever been you they desired, from kindergarten well into adulthood. They had always clung to you and pleaded for you to claim them long before your diagnosis. It was such a shame that you didn't present as an alpha when the time came; otherwise, their place at your side would have been surely secured. This way, they had to go to drastic lengths to be with you, even though the effort hadn't been in vain. Now they had you right where they wanted. 
Their hand sliding up your arm, you halted your movements, spoon hanging in mid-air with milk dripping from its rim. There was a slight shake in your hand, growing more and more intense the higher the omega's hand traveled. Until they gripped your shoulder, the spoon clattering on the designer table, milk and cereals going everywhere as you winced in pain. 
Their grip was merciless, considering the many, many marks and bruises they left on your body, the pain only now registering that you were out of the drug-induced rut. Your whole body was practically mauled by your omega's teeth and sharp nails, fists they used to get you in position when you were too high to listen to their demands. Everything hurt, and when they climbed on your lap, tears shot back into your eyes, their hands freely roaming your chest and arms without remorse about what they did to you. 
In fact, they were proud feeling the indents through your t-shirt. A shirt they rubbed all over themselves before helping you into, marking you with their scent. Had you been an alpha, it would have been so easy to make sure you smelled like your omega. But you weren't. So they needed to use more drastic methods to mark you. The omega could think about a good handful more ways but decided to keep those for the next time they'd put you in front of a camera. Until then, a shirt and their body rubbing against yours had to suffice. 
"You did so well," they cooed, longing for nothing more than to hear you praise them as well. But perhaps they had to show you first how to take care of an omega, so, once again, they took the lead, just like they always had in this relationship. "Fucked me so good, made me feel so full ~ My pretty little beta. You enjoyed it, too, right? We made such a lovely video; now my fans love you too."
"Ah- No more..." you gasped weakly, gripping the omega's waist and trying to push them off you. They grinned at your little, helpless defiance, the bite you had after arriving in your new home now muzzled after days of fucking. You had so many more beautiful sounds to give them than your screaming and crying—moaning, whimpering, begging. Their hips were grinding over your legs and into yours, the pain etched into your face of no concern to the omega as they kept disturbing all the sore and wounded parts of your body.
God, you were beautiful. 
Day, night, evening, morning, you were always fucking stunning. Happy, smiling, angry, crying, needy, drooling, hurt, and despairing. There was no moment they didn't love you. You were only made for them, your beauty belonged all to the omega. Even god must have meant for you two to be together. 
"Hush, it's okay. There, there..." your omega muttered, leaning forward to kiss your tears away, licking up the salty trails they left behind while their hips picked up speed on top of you, causing some blissful moans from the omega's lips. Nothing in this world turned them on like you did, even sitting at the table, crying pathetically over the pleasure they gave you. You were so seductive, even when you were hurting. Anything they gave you, pain or pleasure, you had to accept it just like the omega did. Pain, acceptance, being close to each other no matter what—all these feelings you harbored for them, you had to accept the same way they did. That's what love meant.
Sliding their hand down your chest, they dug under your waistband, sliding further and further. You let out a beautiful gasp, followed by your body shifting and hands trying to stop the passionate grind of the omega's hips. But latest when they had their hand on your sex, making you flinch at the touch, you slowly stilled, merely trembling as your breath turned ragged. 
"That's it, baby!" the omega cheered, your pleasure becoming their own as they used their hand to get both of you off by grinding against it. "Come for me, Darling! You'll do it, right? Come for me? Come like a good beta from your omega's hand?"
They'd turn all this hurt into more and more love. Your pain would soon cease when you realized they were doing what was right for you. Their hand was slick with your juices, confirming that the omega was right—they were the best and only option for you to thrive in this life, just like the thought of you had driven them to success. It would turn you into an alpha despite your genes, at least one in mind. Now that they had you, they would never let you go. They'd never abandon you and take a real alpha; there was no need for it anymore when they could shape you into what they wanted. 
Slipping their hand out of your shorts again, they licked off the remnants of your orgasm, watching as your body collapsed beneath them. That's right, they thought, just let yourself fall. Once you'd learn to leave behind all the bad thoughts and drown in the pleasure and love they'd give you, everything would get better. You could live your life with them, secluded and confined in your togetherness, in peace and harmony. 
Your omega would do what you needed to realize this.
"I love you," they murmured against your lips, licking over the bloody marks of your own teeth that had bitten into them, kissing away the pain. Soon, there would be no need to hold back like this. No need for hostility against them. Everything would go back to how it was before your diagnosis. You two would finally be happy. 
"I love you so much," they sighed, ignoring the jolt in your body as they began to grind again, not yet done with you. Mouths mixing in a one-sided kiss, the omega moaned into it, ignoring every flinch and your whining when they bit into your lips as well, combining your mark with theirs and tasting what belonged to them. 
They knew they might have to ruin you some more to achieve their goals. Break in the old belief that you two could never be together, and let it crumble like a house of cards by showing you how they could take care of you. Bring out your real potential as their partner. Claim you until you were too weak to refuse them as your bonded partner. 
It was a rocky road until then, littered with more arguments, nights of silence, tears, and them getting what they wanted no matter how much you suffered. But they had gone through much worse to get to where they were now. The extra effort would not stand in the way of your happiness. After all, that's what devotion was.
And your omega would always be the one and only for you. 
1K notes · View notes
sexydoffyman · 3 months
Note
Okay okay okay.
Hear me out.
What if for some darn reason, the 141 members can purr, ie, they just... Learned how to do it and unintentionally do it as a comfort thing??
For example, cuddling with simon or something and suddenly he's just.. passed the f*CK out on you and purring because he's so relaxed and happy to be all snuggled with his favorite person??
You don't gotta respond to this if ya don't wanna, I just thought it was cute!
HYBRID AU PURRING HCS
navigation
genre: fluff
characters: Simon Riley, John Price
A/N: Will write more of this eventually🐠
AU NOTE: They are like hybrids with cats and such (purring animals) they only have traits of the animals. They don't share their physical appearance with them. (IN THIS SPECIFIC AU(In case I make another one of these))
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
-He is the kind of person who would never admit to the fact that they purr.
-"You are a cat hybrid, right?" "Yeah" "So you purr." "No" "But it's in your nature." "I don't purr."
-He is just so stressed all the time. His trust issues are really taking a toll on him.
-But if you just have that spark in you and if he notices it, he will warm up to you.
-He's very scared to ask you for anything regarding rest.
-He is just so exhausted. Too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to worry.
-He tries to walk to his room but just isn't able to. It only results in him falling to the ground. He eventually gives up, trying to get up and figures that the floor is not so bad.
-Suddenly, he felt his body leave the floor.
-You were dragging him.
-Normally, he would be ashamed, but right now, he isn't able to even talk.
-You find your way to his room and manage to get the keys to said room out of his pocket.
-He's barely conscious.
-He feels so good when you lay him on the bed.
-You dragging him made it so that you are kind of under him. So when you get up to leave, he has a perfect opportunity to instinctively get a hold of you and hug you like a plush toy.
-For some reason, his body doesn't allow you to go away. Ghost has been asleep for a while now. He isn't aware that he is gripping onto you like that.
-He's also not aware that he is purring.
-You just let him purr as you position yourself into a more comfortable position.
-When he wakes up, he will shamefully apologise to you.
-Even after this day, he insists that he doesn't purr.
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"CAPTAIN" JOHN PRICE
-John is a very confident dude. He doesn't mind showing his comfort.
-He purrs on a daily basis. When he stretches his back. When he takes the first sip of his coffee.
-What he is not so comfortable letting you see is his need for support.
-He also, like Ghost, ends up way too tired to function.
-He finds it secure enough to take a smaller nap on a couch.
-It is late at night, so there is very little chance that somebody will find him.
-Unfortunately for him, you find yourself stumbling upon his sleeping form.
-You see him huddled up in a ball. A thing you'd never expect him to do. With that, you decide to comfort your captain.
-No one would be in such a position in such a place if they weren't stressed and or tired.
-You initially thought of finding a better place for him to rest at. You sit on the couch next to him to think about where to drag him.
-You can't even grab him since he is the one doing the grabbing.
-He pulls you beside him. Just your presence makes him feel safer.
-You can feel his shoulders drop and see his face rest.
-With all of that, he starts to softly purr into your ear.
-You never thought he'd be so cuddly, but you didn't mind it. You enjoyed the was he took in your scent.
-That's not the last time it'll happen.
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
Note
I heard you wanted some muscian Eren thirst so I'll do my best:
What if Ms. YN (back before she & Eren got matching/couple tattoos) got a custom temporary tattoo of her man's name & placed it like a tramp stamp? What if that night when she's performing with her crew she posts some spicy pics flashing the fake tattoo waiting for Eren to notice.
What if he noticed & when she gets home home & starts to undress she feels his hand travel up her body, bending her over the counter as he lifts her shirt to see his name just above her ass? Now YN's gone & awaken his need to mark her. Poor thing, she didn't expect him to damn near break her but she plans to surprise him with a cute lil permanent "E" on her ankle if this is the reaction a fake tattoo got. She ends up walking funny the next day for sure.
OMG BABES!! you’re an absolute genius 😭 I love this so bad chdkhdkd
because imagine…you’re on tour, traveling the country or it’s your first time performing internationally. Either way, you’ve been apart from Eren for quite some time. Although dancing on stage and living the dream with your girls is amazing, you miss your husband! Neither of you are strangers to extended periods of separation due to work. Long nights on the road, weeks at a time in different locations that wasn’t the home you shared together. It admittedly took its toll, in many forms…
“Yes, baby..I miss you too. I miss you so much..”
“So come home already. Please, (y/n)..I need you.”
the shrill cries and whiny pleas spilling from your beloved, EJ. The sound of the mega star rapper’s moans pouring from your phone’s speakers as he stroked himself on the end. That tight fist enclosed around his cock as he played the very vivid imagery of your previous nights together in his mind. It was quite apparent that he wasn’t taking too kindly to his wife being thousands of miles away from him. Watching you vicariously through a phone screen as he surveyed that beautiful body. Once twirling on the pole half nude and shrouded in glitter and now, completely naked and on full display for him. So egregiously horny with no shame for his blatant submission. Drooling and bucking his hips up into his enclosed fingers..
“Baby..I can’t..soon as I get home though. You know imma take care of you, daddy. Imma give you what you need..”
a statement he intended for you to follow through on. Because in the days since that very salacious phone call, he’d hand nothing but time and unbridled obsession on his hands..carefully surveying and watching your Instagram account like that of a hawk. Breaking his very own conditions on social media just to get a peak of his princess..his gorgeous wife who was fresh off of a performance with one of his respected ‘colleagues’, who’d joined the tour as well. Spinning around that metal pole with six inch Pleasers twirling in the air. A sight that he loved to witness. But alas, Eren would be met with another one. One far more savory and the catalyst for his greed and lust. The same greed and lust he’d undoubtedly take out on you the second you touched down back at the shared Miami estate!..
“You gonna give me what I need, right? That’s what you said?..so do it, give me that fucking pussy!”
tearing and ripping you out of your clothes before you could even so much as reach the staircase! Folding you over the kitchen counter with a rough hand scaling the curvature of your back. His open palm smacking roughly against your plump ass with heavy slaps…he was relentless! However, the reason for his sudden aggression wasn’t just the fact that he missed you. No!..but rather, the aforementioned sight had awoken something serious in him. The need to make love..the need to mark and claim you like that of a primal animal!
“..Rennn! Okaaay, fuck! Take it, please..”
because what he saw was a rather interesting piece of ink riddling your skin. A tattoo…and one of his name to be more specific! Something he was blissfully unaware that you had obtained. The fact alone that you had did so and behind his back nonetheless had Eren ready to pound that that tight pussy and fill it with every spilling drop of his cum until you couldn’t even walk straight. “You’re so sneaky, baby. I like that shit..didn’t think I’d see it, did you?” taunting mercilessly as he begins to rut his hips into your backside. The thunderous claps of your asscheeks against his pelvis with fluid yet deep strokes, one sharper than the next. All you could do was maintain that perfect arch and grasp for the marble countertop with all your strength to bear the sharp thrusts. But it wasn’t a reaction of misery. You loved it! You loved seeing him become so riled up at the thought of having you stamped with his seal. Clawing his fingernails into your waist and tugging you back with sharp gasps hissing in your ear.
“Tell me it’s mine, baby. Let daddy know who that shit belongs to..” the pure sex appeal dripping from his voice like that of honey. But he didn’t have to take your word for it. Because after countless rounds of rough and filthy lovemaking in every inch of the house. Taking you from the kitchen, the staircase and even the upstairs balcony for all the nights of pent up sexual frustration, you’d find yourself stumbling lopsidedly to the tattoo parlor. The shop where he’d gotten countless pieces on his own body done. Sitting upright in a chair as the artist engraved a single capital ‘E’ on your skin; right next to the diamond tennis anklet with his initials on it. Simply smirking at the thought of his reaction…and you didn’t have to wait long. Because nightfall would come around and you’d find yourselves engaging in another bout of steamy sex. This time in the comfort of your bedroom with R&B faintly thumping from the TV..pale red lighting illuminating the room and his chiseled body hovering over you. Placing tender kisses along your calf as he hoisted your leg up to his shoulder. Those movements getting lower as his rings grazed your skin. He’d whisper sweet nothings to compliment those pecks, telling you how beautiful you were but his reaction would turn from merely elated to all but ecstatic when he spotted it…
“You like it?..”
being met with a toothy smirk and the faint glint of his silver slugs on the bottom row of his teeth staring back at you. That was most certainly an understatement because he’d prove to you just how much he loved seeing you rock his name. Both physically and metaphorically..
“..that’s my girl..”
and soon, everyone else would too!
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faeryarchives · 3 months
Text
Little Ball of Sunshine (Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Amid all the festive and crowd, a little ball of sunshine in the form of a cub found their way to you. Recent works: And Nothing More (Azul Ashengrotto & Jamil Viper x F!Reader) & Stay with me (Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader) & heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader!
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As one of the appointed students in charge of accommodating visitors from far and wide during the Night Raven annual festival - it was not surprising for you to see people walking up to you and asking for directions or performing tricks to calm down children who strayed too far from their parents, keeping watch until they are reunited again. After all, you would never hear the end of it from Crowley if some parents complained about security issues.
'Who knew Ace's party tricks would save me a lot?' A crowd of children gathers around you, eyes full of amazement and woe as you try juggling and creating balloon animals to make them smile before sending them off with their parents. They waved their hands goodbye one by one, and their words made you tear up a little. 
"Bye, thank you for visiting us!" Watching them exit the school grounds with looks of satisfaction gave you more motivation to do more. However, your body seems to beg to differ after performing one trick from another for hours without any rest, stumbling and closing your eyes for just a moment too long before brushing your hair out of your face. 
"My whole body feels sore..." You moaned, feigning to faint as you leaned your back to Jack, who pat your shoulder while arranging the lost items that people found and surrendered. 
"Jack, I'm going to die. I can't feel my body..."
"Then why don't you take a break for a while? You've been standing here all day, and I don't mind covering for you for an hour or so." The wolf suggested, not batting an eye until you turned around with eyes sparkling with delight. "You serious?" You asked, and Jack could read you like a book, seeing your body shudder with excitement.
"You never experienced the annual festival before, right?" He had a knowing smile as he put his hand on your head, ruining your hairstyle. "So go there and have fun."
Of course, you wouldn't let such an opportunity go; after all - annual festivals only happen once a year. It will be a shame if you never get to enjoy it before going back to your own home.
One thing led to another, and you found yourself in the middle of the festival with something wrapped around your leg, "Wah! You are that amazing lady doing tricks earlier!" said a high and clear voice filled with the infectious excitement that only a child could muster. 
"A child?" Glancing down, your eyes met a pool of color honey hues full of child-like wonder and innocence. A pair of lion ears sat upon his fluffy auburn hair, and a bright grin sat on the child's face as he looked up at you. "What's your name?" Crouching down at his height, you look around for any injuries; thankfully, there were none. Instead of mirroring your worry, the child cheered, raising his hands in the air.
"My name is Cheka!"
"Mmh! So Cheka, are you here all alone?" The boy pondered momentarily, trying to think what to answer before shaking his head side to side. "Nope! But I ran away from my bodyguards to look for you!"
You blinked in surprise, not expecting such an answer. "For me...?" You trailed off, pointing at yourself to be sure, and the lion cub nodded enthusiastically. "Don't you know it is bad to follow strangers?" For the second time, Cheka shook his head as if denying his actions. His tiny fists are raised over his chest while his tail wags excitedly.
"You are not a stranger! I saw you before!"
"Really?" With your mind wandering off trying to remember this particular lion club, you eventually gave up - too tired to use any of your brain cells for today. "Well, if I am not a stranger and you are alone, why don't we enjoy the festival first and look for your bodyguards?" You reached out your hand for him to take, which he did without hesitation. 
While you go around, hand in hand, and win some prizes to give to Cheka, he starts to engage in small talk about himself and his favorite Uncle. "Thank you, big sister (Nickname)! I always want to go and meet you after Uncle keeps mentioning you to Mother." Cheka met your eyes and giggled. 
"Cheka, if you don't mind me asking, who is your uncl-"
"So this is where you are hanging out?" In the blink of an eye, you watch as Cheka is being carried like a cat, but instead of thrashing around - the cub bursts out in fits of giggles as he tries reaching out to Leona, the culprit. "Unca Leona!" Letting the child dangle in the air, Leona looked at you, a sigh passing through his lips as if he had just discovered what was happening.
"So you ran away from your attendants again to meet my herbivore? Do you know how your father almost cried to me when he found out you escaped?"
"Hehe! Because I know you will look for me! And big sis (Nickname) is with me, so I am safe!" At this point, Leona might as well exhale his soul for the nth time, letting Cheka down on the floor before walking towards you with a very, very, very serious expression on his face.
With his palm on the cub's head to ensure he doesn't run off again, he leans in, trying to read your expression as you try not to laugh at the sudden revelation. "Did he say anything to you?" You try averting your gaze to anything but your lover's face before finally letting your laugh come out.
"Mmm, which part?" You hum playfully before sticking your tongue out at him. Obviously, on the losing side of the argument, the lion just shrugged it off and hugged you from behind, snugging his head into your shoulder and letting out a satisfied hum when you ruffled his head affectionately.
"I never thought you would mention me to your brother and sister-in-law. Sometimes, you are adorable, too."
"Well, of course. You are my girlfriend, after all, and how do you think I know what to gift you every time?"
Cheka yawned, trying to rub the sleepiness away from his eyes only to fail, leading him to tug on Leona's hand. "Uncle Leona, are we going home? I'm already sleepy..." Leona lifted the boy by holding him by his sides, switching his hold to make the cub snuggle comfortably to the lion's chest while hugging the teddy bear you won for him. 
"Yeah, it's time for you to go home. Say goodbye to (Name)." Cheka peeked his eyes towards you before giving you the puppy dog eyes, a powerful attack piercing your heart. "Can we still hang out after this?" He asked you ever so hopefully. You and Leona shared a glance before you stepped forward and patted the cub on his head. 
"Of course! Call your Uncle Leona on the phone if you want to chat, okay?"
"Mm!"
After that, there was never a day that Cheka failed to give you a call. He always talked about how his day at school and shared stories about Leona. 
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catcze · 5 months
Note
oh btw i know that a werewolf is a pretty obvious pick for your newest man but he does look like he'd make for a great vampire who has to actively resist the urge to feed on you because "your blood is... so sweet... and you're so... enticing... just a taste, please..."
or not! who knows ehe <3
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 CWS : 」 A little suggestive due to the intimate nature of blood drinking, but nothing sexual or even leading up to any sexual activity happens. That being said, if ur bothered by Wrio finding the reader tasting delicious + Reader enjoying being drank from a lot, maybe dont read;;; this is 2k words of non-sexual intimacy and love and trust !!
I have a confession;;;; I really really really love the vampire x human trope,,,,,, even just a teeny tiny bit more than I do the werewolf x human trope,,,, so,,,,, SO,,,,,,,,,, vamp! Wrio is setting all kinds of good signals off in my brain rn;;;;;;; i have;;;;;; many;;;;; many thoughts;;;; ON MY HANDS AND KNEES DONT LET THIS FLOP PLS 💔💔💔
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You're on his lap. Wriothesley's on his chair, hands practically clawing into the armrests. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd rip it. His eyes don't know where to look— they flit around every inch of his office, avoiding your own. But they always end up glancing back at your neck no matter how much he tries to pry them away.
He gulps.
"You're hungry."
"I'm not," he immediately denies, ignoring the way his fangs ache at just being able to smell your blood so close.
You frown. "You haven't eaten in a week, Wrio."
"I have—"
"Animal blood doesn't count. That shit can only work for so long, and you know it."
He swallows, hands clenching even tighter, nails digging into leather armrests. He looks away from you, rendered silent.
You watch him as how he tries to ignore you. Delicately, you place a hand on his cheek, urging his eyes back to meet yours.
"Why don't you just ask me?" You murmur. "You know I'd say yes. You know I'd do anything for you."
His face twists. "That's the problem," Wriothesley says bitterly, teeth clenched. Even from here, from the limited view you have past the curl of his lip, you see how his sharp fangs gleam. "I— if I drink from you, I won't want anything else. Ever. I already have a hard enough time just being around you, but if i get even just a taste..." he trails off, swallowing. "You're all I'm going to crave, sweetheart."
Wriothesley expects you to pause or hesitate. Maybe even extract yourself from him. He wouldn't blame you. Ever since the first time his thoughts betrayed him and he wondered what you'd taste like on his tongue (honey and nectar and heaven and ambrosia, all in one) he's been so careful to hide how he hungers for you, lest you think he's a monster who'd hurt you for his own gain.
In an ideal world, you never would have had to see him like this— starving, thirsting. Every single cell in his body urging him to get on his knees and beg you for just a taste. He'd get the fear and the apprehension, even though it'd crack a little piece of his cold, unbeating heart.
But you just roll your eyes and unbutton the collar of your shirt. leaning down so the side of your neck is right within his sight. His mouth dries as the thump of your pulse comes ever closer, freezing him in place.
"You're not going to hurt me," you say, conviction in your voice. You inch closer.
Wriothesley feels another part of his self restraint collapse.
Against his better judgement, he's actually thinking about it now. He crumbled so fast that it might be a little pathetic, he knows. Maybe his mind is addled from the hunger, maybe he's addled by his hunger for you, but he knows that he's fraying with every millisecond that you spend so close.
"No, not— not there," He protests quietly, even though he's itching to reach out and sink his teeth into your pulse. Fuck, you smell delicious up close. He's damn near losing his mind here, the object of his love and the greatest temptation to his gluttony practically sitting on his lap, offering up something that he's craved for so long. Still, he gathers what bits and pieces of his restraint that he can and manages to gently nudge you back, just enough that he can think without being driven mad by the idea of his mouth on your neck.
The protest is already ready on your tongue, but he takes a gentle hold of your wrist instead, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin, and the pulse under his fingers makes the emptiness in his stomach increases tenfold.
"Here," he tells you. "It'll be easier to push me away if you need to."
You say nod, pushing your wrist closer to his mouth. "Drink up," you tell him. He pushes away his hesitation, and with one last lingering kiss, he presses his mouth to your wrist and bites.
And fuck, he was right.
Heaven and sunlight and euphoria bursts on his tongue, making his brain practically short circuit. Wriothesley concludes then and there that compared to you, anything and everything else he's ever tasted was bland in comparison. He can barely even attempt to describe it— with each drop you willingly give, his hunger is both sated and amplified. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and a whimper muffled into your skin.
When you hum, warm fingers carding through his hair and urging him to take more, he feels like he ascends. Acting on instinct, his arm snakes around your middle to hold you in place— to keep you close. His grip on you is firm, but he's careful not to dig his fingers too hard into your skin.
And as much as this is affecting him, it's affecting you too. Your head grows light in the best way possible, like you're experiencing a euphoric high. You scratch a bit harder at his scalp, pulling a desperate noise from his lips that makes you tremble in his hold. You'll sit here for as long as he needs to feel better, for as long as he needs you.
Quicker than you would have wanted, Wriothesley reluctantly pulls away. By then the color's only just started to come back to his face and he's panting like he's been on a brisk jog. He looks much less sickly, yes, but you observe with a frown that he's still not quite yet at tip-top shape.
Hesitantly, almost reverently, he presses a kiss to the wound on your wrist, then gives the smallest of licks. it tingles, but after a moment the sting of it fades to a dull throb, and then nothing. But before he can push you off, you're leaning down again, same position as before, with your neck in his line of view. An open invitation.
"You need to drink more," you murmur. You try to ignore the rush of blood in your face, the tingle in your core. For as much as he was scared of getting addicted to you, you fear now you're getting addicted to him, too.
"I shouldn't," Wriothesley says, barely above a whisper.
He should push you off— should let you rest. Should wrap you in his coat and get you some water and a snack after you've already let him drink so much of you.
It had been hard enough to resist earlier, but now? Your blood is pumping so hard he can practically hear it. And you taste so sweet. You had made the slightest of noises when he fed on you— he doubts you even realized it, what with the haze you were in. Just the smallest of whines when he drank from your wrist, but each breathy sigh and whisper of his name was enough to make him crave more.
A small, traitorous corner of his mind wonders if you'd be even more vocal with his teeth on your neck.
He swallows, knowing he's already fighting a losing battle. He's so, so weak for you. His one arm doesn't budge from around your waist, but his hand moves up to cup your cheek. He drags your eyes to meet his, and you can see the seriousness amidst the hunger.
"You tell me if anything hurts." Wriothesley's arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. "Anything. Please."
You hum, happy, nuzzling closer into the cradle of his grip. "Okay. I know you'll stop if I ask." And oh the faith you have in him has heat pooling in his gut and a foreign pressure grow behind his eyes.
His voice is hoarse he says, "Yeah sweetheart. Of course I will."
He comes close and you shift your head, giving him more space to work. First thing he does isn't even bite— he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with kisses and licks and nips, delighting in the small protest of 'that tickles!' that he elicits from you.
You let him shower you in affection a little bit more, but eventually your hand works into his hair, tugging. "Okay, no more stalling," you say, breathless. "C'mon, time to eat."
And he's still nervous of taking too much— can feel his stomach roil at just the thought of hurting you, but he trusts you. Trusts you as much as you trust him, too. So he takes another deep breath, presses one last tender kiss to your skin, and sinks his teeth into your neck.
A small whisper of him name escapes our throat just as a groan leaves him because fuck— you taste even better. Flavor multiplied times what feels like a hundred, making his cold cold heart do flips and tricks in his chest. The hand you bury in his hair tugs, pulls, but brings him closer instead of away. You push him further into you, begging him to take more, and he happily obliges.
Wriothesley presses kisses and licks to your neck between drinking down mouthfuls, making sure not to waste a single drop. He's pulling you against his chest so tightly— hand bunched in the back of your top that you fear he might rip the fabric, but you decide that you don't really care if he does.
With each drink he takes, each satisfied, muffled noise that leaves him, you feel yourself melt more and more against him until you're boneless in his hold. Despite how he drinks as if it's his last, he still has the good mind to shift you a bit higher in his lap, to make sure he's holding you comfortably. His hand rubs soothing circles into your hip, and he tries to recline back into his seat as much as he can so you can lean into him.
Your heart pounds even harder, the blood rushing to your ears, and you think he feels it with the way his hunger seems to double.
Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze hazy and growing sleepy with each progressive second. But it doesn't hurt in the slightest. You feel warm, if anything— warm and happy that you were able to help him, and make sure he's well.
He's slowing a little. His hunger finally abating and making way for something more tender and soft. You scratch his scalp lovingly and lean your head against his. A sweet, sleepy kiss pressed to his temple makes his pace falter.
Wriothesley soon separates himself from your neck, pressing a kiss and a kitten lick to your newest wound. Like the one on your wrist, it tingles for just a bit before any stinging or pain vanishes entirely.
"Hey baby," he murmurs, pulling away slightly to look at your face, but making sure his arm is still wrapped around you. To keep you steady, to remind you that he's here. He smiles a little at your happy, dazed expression, but even now you can see the lingering worry. "You with me?"
You respond with a hum, nodding as best as you can. "Yeah. 'm okay."
Wriothesley laughs a little, watching you stumble over your words. He lets you fall flat against his chest with you head hanging on his shoulder and cradles you against him. One hand goes to twine your fingers with his, desperate to hold you as much as he can, and the other snugly tucks your head under his chin. In his embrace, you feel the beat of your heart gradually slow back to a calm. It leaves you boneless and tired, the crash of it all finally hitting you and making your eyelids flutter.
"That's good." You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. "Did anything hurt at all, honey?"
You shake your head. Too tired to look up at him, so you squeeze his hand instead. A kiss is pressed to the apple of his throat. "Nothing. I'm just tired, 's all. I'm fine."
He holds you closer, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Thank you, my love. Let's get you something to eat and drink, then we sleep— how does that sound?"
You just hum your agreement, limbs feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Wriothesley places a kiss to the crown of your head. With utmost gentleness, he cradles you in his arms as he stands, trying not to jostle you as he makes his way out of the room.
"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs, heart growing three sizes in his chest, arms full of the most precious thing in his world.
You bury yourself further into him. "Love you more, Wrio."
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628 notes · View notes
persefolli · 1 year
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𝐇𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐞.
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @myheartfollower, @laylasbunbunny, @destinylb, @deadgirl02
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Today was a beautiful day, clear skies and salty air lingered over Awa’atlu and every day you thanked Tonowari for letting you stay in this paradise you called home. Tonowari and Jake wasted no time in making you Tsahik after you accepted their confessions. You married and performed tsaheylu with Tonowari, then eloped with Jake, with Tonowari as a ‘witness’. 
The Metkayina praised the relationship between the three of you, stating that the village will become more powerful with the three most powerful clan members running it. “Hey ladies, I’m gonna go get some hunting done today.” You peeked into the marui pod where the Metkayina weaved baskets and buckets. Your fellow weavers nodded and shooed you off to go hunt for dinner you would prepare for both Tonowari and Jake tonight.
You hadn't seen them all day, knowing that they had important duties to tend to. But you had very exciting news to tell them, and you wanted to do it in private, over dinner
You bolted into the forest, letting some warriors know about your whereabouts if anything happens. You got a great distance away from the reef, where some animals were sure to pop out. “What are we feeling? Viperwolf? Kentrocapa? Or maybe some….fish.” You spoke  out loud to yourself….and your unborn child.
A few beats of silence and you chuckled, “Yeah we've had fish too much these past few days.” You began sniffing, tracking the scent of a nearby creature that you were bound to kill. Slowly walking over the damp grass, you found a viperwolf. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. You drew your bow, and focused right on the lone wolf that was eating some strange item in the ground. Before you could release your arrow, a shuffle in the bushes managed to scare the poor wolf off.
Your ears perked up, and you turned to face the rustling bushes, “Jake?” You smiled, expecting your lover to emerge from the bushes.
Instead, a taller, short-haired na’vi in tactical gear stepped out from the bushes. You knew he wasn't from around here, and the four fingered hand told you he was no real na’vi. You backed up, slightly losing your footing. “You’re not Jake.”
 “Let's make this easy for both of us, peach.” He pulled out an orange band and began inching closer to you.
You swiftly grabbed your bow, drawing it back and releasing it, missing him by a long shot. At this rate he was too close for you to pull out another arrow, so you did what first came to mind. 
“HELP!” You turned around and began to sprint, but he was bigger, and faster. He managed to tackle you to the ground and slap one side of the band on your wrist. “Hold still!” He grunted, struggling to slap the other side of the band on you. “JAKE! MA JAKE!” You screamed, hoping your lover was already on his way towards you, but that chance was slim. He turned you around to face him, as soon as you met his eyes you hissed, leaning up and biting his forearm. “Son of a-” Your eyes widened seeing the large rock in his hand. 
---
“Have you guys seen Y/n today?” Jake walked into the weaving marui pod.
“She said she was going hunting in the forest earlier today.” One of the Metkayina  members responded. 
Jake hummed and walked out the pod, keeping his head on a swivel looking for you. Something didn't feel right, in his gut. He had just gotten back from the forest, and you weren't there. Even your scent seemed to fade the deeper he went into the forest. He walked to find Tonowari, who was in another pod talking to some warriors about new trading policies with other reef clans. Jake stood in the doorway and silently motioned two fingers towards him indicating they needed to talk.
“Have you seen Y/n today?” 
“No, I assume she's weaving, yes?”
“No. They said she went hunting.”
“Well maybe she's in the forest.”
“I just came from the forest and she wasn't there. Her scent went cold.”
“Hm.” Tonowari nodded. “Maybe she went fishing instead.”
“Yeah….Fishing.” Jake agreed.
The both of them exchanged a look, a calm flowing between them. Their expressions didn't show it, but their senses spiked right in that moment. They didn't want to alarm one another, but they both knew that something was indeed wrong.
“I'll just wait…for a little while.” Jake walked off. 
“Yes…she’ll show up eventually.” 
Was Jake gonna wait? Of course not. He found his skimwing and immediately went diving in the reef, looking amongst the other metkayina for you. The longer he searched the more panicked he became. The last thing he wanted to do was look beyond the reef, because only Eywa knew what could've gotten ahold of you out there.
On the other side of the reef,  Tonowari was diving and asking his clan members if they’d seen you. He became increasingly angry with each “No, I haven't seen Y/n.”
Tonowari was usually level headed, but knowing you were gone with no clue where you went made his mind run wild. He loved you so, almost to the point of obsession, and your absence made his nerves grow hot. He looked, and looked until the eclipse got closer.
The sky grew dark, and he finally met up with Jake in the middle of the reef, panting. “I can’t find her. No one has seen her Jake!” 
“I couldn't find a trace of her, I even went beyond the reef.” Jake responded.
Just as he went silent, the static on his earpiece went off. “Can-hear-Corporal?”  He managed to hear bits and pieces of the voice from the other side.
“Corporal.” He muttered. There was only one person who called him that.
Quaritch.
“Gather the best warriors and meet me at the edge of the reef, now!” Jake yelled at his best friend and went towards the reef border, where the signal became clearer. “Corporal, if you can hear me, know that I have something you want.” Quaritch said on the earpiece. In the background he heard a very faint moaning noise, very, very quiet.
“DAMN!” Jake slapped the waterbed, and the skimwing screeched, feeling the rage of it’s rider.”
 ---
Quaritch had a tight grip on your braid. Even though you were already bound up, he still took pride in torturing you.  He yanked your braid every once in a while, and held a knife to your throat when you wouldn't quiet down. You were still dazed from him knocking you out with a rock earlier. Your throat was scratchy, and your cheeks were wet with tears. “Please Eywa please.” You muttered. “Tono- Ja- AH!” You cried out as Quaritch yanked your head back again.
“Eywa, won't save you!”
“Please! Please let me go, I'll give you anything you want.”
“No, I'll get what I want, peaches. Your husband, Jake.Sully.” He said with venom. “He won't leave his wife and baby to die will he?”
“If you hurt us they will kill you!” You snapped back.
Quaritch turned you to face him and placed a harsh slap across your cheek. You cried out as he raised his hand again, but a gunshot stopped the slap from landing again. The two of you looked to see Jake and Tonowari approaching, with a large group a metkayina warriors. You began tugging at your restraints, crying in relief seeing your two lovers again. 
Jake used the scope of his gun to search for you. He quickly spotted you, and frowned seeing you jerk against the boat railing. “Mawey.” He whispered. “Mawey.” As if he was in your ear, you stopped tugging, and looked at him expectantly.
“He has her.” 
Tonowari let out a loud yell, hissing and gripping his spear tight. “Let me see.” He reached out for the gun Jake had. He spotted you, seeing a blood trail stemming from your head, and the bruised cheek which was starting to swell. Tonowari slammed the gun back into Jake’s chest, hissing and snarling. “He must die!”
“Tonowari, this may be a trap we have to-”
“He will die.” He repeated. Jake noticed the darkness in Tonowari’s expression. He would have to move fast if he didn’t want Tonowari putting you in possible danger.
“Sully.” Quaritch snarled into the earpiece. “You for her. No funny business. We have you surrounded.”
Seven more boats began speeding towards Jake and the rest of the Metkayina, surrounding them. You looked, and saw one avatar, and about 4 humans on each boat. This should be light work for the two of them, right?
“Let's not waste any more time than we have to.” Quaritch taunted.
Jake and Tonowari sat in place, deliberating their options. Jake could sacrifice himself, if that meant you would come out safe, but there was no way you or Tonowari would allow that. Jake could attack the ships, but you were held at gunpoint, no way he would make it to you before the trigger was pulled.
Quaritch suddenly raised his hand and smacked you again, making sure you cried out loud enough for the two warriors to hear. Tonowari snapped his head towards Jake and began yelling. “Jake you have 5 seconds to make a decision or I swear to Eywa nobody is getting out of this alive!” 
Jake furrowed his eyebrows, finally giving in to his partner's rage.  “I'll go alone. Retreat to the reef.”  
“Retreat?!”
“Re.Treat.” Jake said, slower, bowing his head slightly. This time, Tonowari caught the hint. 
“Hyah!” He hooted out, the Metkayina warriors started turning around and disappearing into the water. Jake pulled his gun aside, and slowly began approaching the boat, seeing the damage on your face more clearly now. 
“No. Jake.” You said breathlessly as he came to the edge of the boat He climbed on, coming face to face with Quaritch. “Jake.” You looked at him with watery eyes. Your breathing became unstable as you realized what was gonna happen next. 
“No..No take me! Don’t you want him to suffer? Take me instead!” 
Jake looked at you and hissed, shutting you up immediately. 
Quartich paid no attention to your begging, but took out another restraining strap. “Let her go.” Jake said, slapping one end of the restraint on his wrist. Quaritch seemed satisfied, finally taking out his knife and cutting one side of the restraint off. Jake winced, but managed to clasp the other restraint on his other wrist, resulting in you being cut free.
“Now that wasn’t so hard wasn’t it?”
You stood, looking between Jake and Quaritch. Jake nodded towards the skimwing, telling you to scram, with his eyes. You shook your head, refusing to leave him. Jake kept averting his eyes to the skimwing, but you being stubborn as you were didn’t catch on. You slowly began backing up to the edge of the boat, hitting the railing. 
Suddenly Jake swung, hitting Quaritch in the jaw. 
Everything happened so fast.
Guns began blazing. Metkayina warriors shot out the water piercing humans with their spears. Jake jumped onto the boat railing, into the water; and Tonowari shot out the water and grabbed you, pulling you right back into the ocean with him. 
This happened all at the same time. 
You held on to Tonowari tightly as the current in the water almost managed to throw you off the side of his skimwing. The two of you began to move upward again, breaking the water barrier. You watched as Tonowari yelled with pure rage, lifting  his spear and impaling an avatar with one swift movement. The two of you dove back into the sea, the water current pushing the half dead avatar further on Tonowari’s spear. 
The skimwing slowed down, ultimately rising and stopping on the ocean bed. The boats that now surrounded you were on fire, sinking, with arrow-struck corpses piled on top. The avatar stuck on Tonowaris spear began gasping, spitting up blood and looking at the two of you with pure fear in his eyes.
Tonowari tilted his head, watching the avatar convulse on the spear. “Tonowari?” You called out, but he was gone, his eyes seemed soulless. You held onto the side of the skimwing, floating in the water, watching Tonowari slowly push out his spear and angle it towards the mouth of his skimwing. “T-”
In an instant, the skimwing twisted its head and opened its mouth, chomping down, and completely decapitating the avatar. You watched the corpse of the avatar slide off of the spear, and into the water.
Tonowari had never, never shown this side of himself before. You didn't even think he was capable of doing something like this. You discreetly wrapped your hand around, grabbing his braid. You wanted to know how angry he was, to feel his rage. Maybe even to have him feel your fear, so he can snap out of this. You connected your braid to his, and a jolt of heat ran though your body. 
You gasped, feeling the intensity of his rage. It mixed with the adrenaline running through your body, becoming too much, before you fell unconscious.
---
Eyes fluttering open, you saw Tonowari, softly dabbing a rag all over your face. You looked down and saw your legs and torso were wrapped in large, damp leaves. Your eyes trailed to the side, where your braid was connected to Tonowari’s. His face was molded in a deep frown, and only now did you notice the underlying feeling of sadness.
“Wari.” You reached for his hand. “Why-”
“I needed to feel your pain.” He curtly said, almost embarrassed. 
“You didn’t have to-”
“I did!” He hissed. “I should have protected you. The baby.”
You gasped, forgetting that with tsaheylu, he felt everything. Jake entered the pod with more medical supplies, sighing in relief once he saw you awake and alert. “Thank Eywa. Y/n…” He scrambled to sit next to you, taking your other hand. The three of you sat in silence. Uncomfortable silence. 
“I was gonna tell you guys.” You broke the silence. “I was gonna make a nice dinner and present you with the beads I made. But he pinned me down and knocked me out.” Tears began to slip from your eyes. “I didn’t mean to cause all of this.”
“Hey, this is my fault, I should've known Quaritch would come back.” Jake sighed. 
“I'm sorry you had to find out from him.” You said sourly,  placing your hand on your stomach.
“I knew before he got you.” Tonowari admitted. nodded, confirming he knew as well. “How did-”
“When we cuddled that one night, and did tsaheylu, I felt something different. Like a tickle in the stomach.” He explained. “But I kept…bonding with you after you fell asleep, just out of curiosity.” Tonowari finally began smiling, tears welling in his eyes. “Then I felt it. I felt our child.”
You smiled and squeezed their hands. The two exchanged a look, and you felt the room fill with tension again.
“We killed Quaritch.” Jake blurted.
You widened your eyes and looked at Tonowari. He shamefully looked away
“He was too big of a threat, we made sure that if he did manage to survive us, he would drown in the deepest part of the sea.” Jake said.
“Ma Wari, Jake. Why are you sad?”
Their expressions changed, looking at each other confused. “You saved my life, you saved the reef. Why are you upset?”
“I scared you, Y/n.” Tonowari said sternly. “I saw you pass out- I felt your fear…I didn't want you to forever remember me in that way. I don’t want my Tsahik to be afraid of me.”
You scoffed, and ran your hand down your face. “Ma Wari. I was afraid your rage would consume you. I know you would never hurt me. Knowing you would…kill for me makes me feel…”
Tonowari searched your eyes as you hummed trying to find the perfect way to say 
“Loved.”
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