#HARSH I know pls forgive me
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ardentpoop · 2 months ago
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sorry but dabb is such a hack lmfao finale script reads like he pulled it out of his ass in one sitting
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whateveriwant · 1 year ago
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I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141
Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 
-🍱 (if it’s not taken)
I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)
Soap
Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go
So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus
Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part
Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you
But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light
Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby
You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all
You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)
So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to
He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal
When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you
Ghost
I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant
It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state
However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree
He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be
He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works
But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first
He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue
He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his
But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it
Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)
Gaz
Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position
But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed
But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant
That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room
You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down
His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him
It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end
Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.
Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more
Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better
Price
Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want
What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue
That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can
Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone
Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)
But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror
He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow
Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror
There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch
With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)
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ladywhistlewrites · 7 months ago
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Hiiiiiii can I request a wife x Anthony bridgerton story where they are newly married and back from their honeymoon so Anthony works a lot where reader nearly never sees him so when she goes to talk to him he snaps at her and takes his stress out on her and reader gives him the silent treatment until she feels like it’s enough. Pls make him work for her forgiveness 😭😭😭😭😭
hii thanks for sending an ask!!🩷 hope you like it :))
Anthony Bridgerton x wife! reader
***
The morning sun casts a golden glow through the windows of your shared home, a beacon of warmth and new beginnings. You and Anthony have just returned from your honeymoon, the memories and whispered promises still fresh in your minds. Every corner of your home feels infused with the love and joy of your new life together, a life that seems to stretch out before you with infinite possibilities.
The first few days are blissful. You and Anthony spend lazy mornings entwined in each other’s arms, sharing laughter over breakfast, and planning your future with excitement. His touch, his voice, everything about him fills you with an overwhelming sense of contentment. You are his, and he is yours.
But as the days turn into weeks, you notice a change. Anthony, ever the diligent worker, begins to spend more time in his study, pouring over documents and attending meetings. At first, you understand. You admire his dedication and are proud of his accomplishments. Yet, gradually, his presence becomes a rarity. He leaves early and returns late, often slipping into bed after you’ve fallen asleep and rising before you awaken.
One evening, after another long day of waiting for him, you decide to confront him. The house is quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock in the hallway. You find him in his study, hunched over his desk, the dim light casting shadows on his face.
“Anthony,” you call softly, stepping into the room. He doesn’t look up, his attention firmly on the papers before him. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “We need to talk.”
He finally glances up, his expression a mix of exhaustion and impatience. “What is it, my love? I’m very busy.”
The endearment feels hollow, and your heart aches. “I know you’re busy, but I miss you. We barely even spend time together . It feels like you’ve forgotten about me, about us.” you murmur
He sighs, rubbing his temples. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m doing this for us, for our future. Can’t you understand that?” he says with venom in his mouth.
“I understand, but what good is the future if we’re not happy now?” The words tumble out, your voice rising with emotion. “You’re consumed by your work, Anthony. You’re neglecting our marriage.”
His eyes flash with irritation, and before you can react, he snaps. “Just mind your own business, will you? I’m doing what needs to be done.” he spats.
You stand there, stunned and hurt, his harsh words cutting deeper than you’d imagined possible. Without another word, you turn and leave, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silent house.
In the days that follow, the pain of his outburst lingers. You decide to give him the silent treatment, unable to bear the thought of speaking to him. You avoid him, your interactions reduced to strained silences and cold civility. He tries to reach out, but you turn away, your hurt and pride keeping you at a distance.
Anthony, realizing his mistake, begins to make amends. Each morning, you find fresh flowers on your bedside table, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the dull ache in your heart. He sends you beautiful gowns, their fine fabrics a reminder of his thoughtfulness. Every day, he apologizes, his voice earnest and filled with regret.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he says repeatedly. “Please forgive me.”
A week passes, and you find yourself missing him more than you can bear. The sight of the flowers, the sound of his apologies, all begin to chip away at your resolve. One evening, as the sun sets and the house is bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you find him in his study once more.“Anthony,” you say quietly. He looks up, hope flickering in his eyes. “I forgive you. But you must promise me, promise me that you will never speak to me like that again.”
He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he might never let go. “I’ve missed you too, more than you can imagine.”
You stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together, bound by love and the promise of a future filled with happiness.
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pookietv · 3 months ago
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apologies, apologies | arthurtv
hello! i am back (sorry it's been so long pookies) so pls accept my humble offering now i am back !!!
cw: smut, slightly toxic, overstim
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small pieces of anger had boiled in your blood as you had woke up this morning, a slight whirlwind following you around as you ignored your phone, and meandered around your house.
you and arthur had plans last night. he was going to come round, you had bought all the stuff to make him dinner, the ingredients for his favourite left sat lonely in your fridge, the caramel-chocolate cookies you had baked now boxed up in tupperware, the sight of your kitchen a slightly depressing one.
was it the biggest deal in the world? no, of course not. he forgot.
but it pissed you off. no call, no text, no check up on you at all. you hadn't bothered to remind him, you had figured if the three times you confirmed the night with him weren't enough, then he didn't care that much anyways, right?
you had barely seen him recently - you knew he was busy, and with his line of work, his form of working often meant being around his friends a lot.
but it still bothered you that all of his time had become devoted to seeing his friends - last night was supposed to be the first time you had seen him in almost two weeks, between him having to travel for work and having busy schedules, you felt forgotten.
so your plan of last night, a sweet night in with your boyfriend, with a film and nice food and attention you had been desperately craving from him, had went down the drain, and the bitterness had set in.
you decided cleaning your house was the task to distract you, and your bedroom was the place to begin. the odd piece of clothes scattered across the floor, mugs on the bedside table and misplaced knick-knacks began to return to their rightful areas.
it wasn't until you heard padding, decisive footsteps across your hallway that your ears pricked, and you scrunched your face up curiously.
as you turned to your bedroom door, about to face whoever had intruded into your house, your bedroom door swung wider open, and you were met with a slightly harsh faced arthur.
"why aren't you answering my calls?" he said, his voice slightly stern, and steadied, "had to come all the way to your apartment just to make sure you were alive."
"oh, so now you can make time to come see that i'm alive?" you huffed slightly, and you saw his eyes narrow in confusion.
"what are you on about?" he murmured dismissively.
you felt your eyes roll slightly, "last night? you were supposed to come round?"
realisation sunk into his face slightly, and whilst you hoped some form of guilt may follow that, a slight huff came instead, "oh, don't be so clingy, it's not a big deal." he said, decisively.
"clingy? i've missed you, arthur, you were away for a whole week filming and then you come back, barely see me and just keep ignoring me?" you said, eyes slightly doe-ish and the feeling of annoyance still irritating you like a bug.
"oh, come on, i'm here now, aren't I?" he murmured, voice lowered slightly, honeyed as he stepped slightly closer to you, finger gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, the soft touch of his finger sweeping across your skin spreading a warmth through your cheeks.
you tried so desperately to hold onto your anger, and not let yourself disarm so quickly, but god it was so easy to forgive him when his dark brown wide eyes looked down at you like some sort of charming spell, lulling you in, fingers still gently twisting the lock of hair he had just tidied away behind your ear.
"arthur, s'not that simple, i'm still annoyed, you barely even-"
"shh, i know, i know, you're still angry. let me make it up, hm?" he murmured, so close his breath spread like a fan down your neck, gently leaning in and connecting his lips to your jawline, and any resolve you had melted away, and you figured you could always curse yourself for it later.
his finger lent use to tilt your jaw up slightly, as you felt his stubble brush against the skin of your neck, as his lips setted against the crook of it now, pressing gentle kisses in a trail against you, achingly close to your collarbones as you allowed your hands to creep up and find placement on the back of his neck, fingers gently playing with the shortened section at the back.
his other hand went to the hem of your shirt, teasingly running his thumb along where it settled against your lower stomach, each slight touch making you embarrassingly needy, a slight whine leaving your lips as you heard a softened chuckle from him.
your anger had been such a fragile thing, so easily displaced by even the slightest of intoxicating touch from him.
"arthur," you murmured, cheeks flush red and each breath hitched, still on the border between being filled with fury at him, and throwing that all away in a desperate attempt to fill the hole that had been so neglected by arthur being away for two weeks.
he smirked a little down at you, lifting his head from the crook of your neck, "i know, lovie. knew you wouldn't be angry for long, hm?" he said, voice dripping with a saccharine tone, his own eyes slightly darkened with lust.
it was all you could do not to pathetically whine as he gently pushed you to the bed, you still sat up against your headboard, leaning down to you and pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, thumbs gently pushing up your shirt as your widened, pleading eyes only stoked the fire in him.
"you look so pretty when you're deciding whether you're cross with me or need me," he teased, pulling the shirt off your head with ease, a slight cocky smirk gracing his face, before his lips went to the front of your chest, one hand resting against your hip as his groaned against your skin, his teeth lightly grazing against your perked nipple.
you had easily become putty to him, malleable to his charm as your hand gently grasped at his upper arm, squeezing slightly as i let out a soft sigh at the touch of his facial hair against you, not too rough to hurt but instead just a warm blossom of slight burn against your chest.
he pushed his thumbs into the waistband of the soft pajama shorts you were wearing, edging down both them and the lacy panties you wore underneath them, slow and teasingly, making a slight impatient huff of air leave you as you looked at arthur pleadingly.
his head dipped lower, his body held up between your legs as one hand rested against your lower stomach, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sight of you, bared in front of him, arousal practically drooling from you as he grinned to himself. he pressed a soft kiss to your hipbone, then the lightest kiss against your clit, only eliciting more whines to fall from you.
"so wet already, hm?" he said, voice thick with control as all you could muster out was a pleading, "please, arthur."
the pad of his thumb gently edged against your sensitive spot, drawing agonisingly slow circles against you, as he looked up at you with a smirk, "what, sweetheart, you want me?" he said, voice full of mock surprise.
"need you," you murmured back, feeling helpless to each move arthur made - all you could do was pray he would take pity on you and end the slow, torturous teasing.
"i'll give you whatever you need if you accept my apology," he grinned, his thumb drawing small circles drawing to a stop, his face agonisingly close to your soaked cunt, each breath he drew and released making you squirm a little more.
"see? look how sorry i am, hm?" he mumbled out, between placing gentle kisses on the sensitive inside skin of your thighs, trailing upwards, reaching dangerously close to where you needed him, as he looked up at you with his big brown eyes that seemed to melt anyone.
"arthur," you babbled out, reduced to begging from even the simplest of touches against him, "please, i forgive you, need you so bad," you whined, watching his eyebrow raise for just a moment before he dipped his head back down, arms pushing your legs upwards slightly, to rest over his shoulders as his lips attached to you, tongue gently trailing from your entrance to your clit, making an embarrassingly loud moan fall from your lips.
the slight stubble that had lightly grazed your chest before was at much better use now, the rough burn a welcome addition as you felt your poor sensitive inner thighs begin to be rubbed raw, however it was too mindspinningly good to even care about tomorrows pain now.
his mouth gave a slight bit of suction, leaving the breath to be sucked from your lungs as his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud, your hips bucking with each movement in a pathetic attempt for more, which was only greeted by a muffled and cocky chuckle from arthur, one of his hands squeezing your thigh a slight bit tighter.
he was lapping against you like a man starved, any time your thighs twinged slightly closer together he was the first to push them apart, pushing his head closer to you, as if he could be any closer.
any inhibition or thoughts you had previously been able to have were practically incinerated, one hand of yours resting in arthurs hair, not tugging but just another feeble attempt at being as connected as physically possible as desperate whimpers fell from your lips like a prayer, arthurs muffled grunts only spurring you on as you pleaded gently.
fast figures of eight were painted against you as it was all you could concentrate on to try and keep your hips still - at least relatively so, but with every slight movement you bucked against his mouth, almost pathetically.
one of his hands went to your hipbone, gently pushing down as he looked up at you, eyes glossed and lidded, as you could feel your own head push back, your brain completely fogged and all responses had become increasingly needy whines, reaching closer to being considered completely dumb.
he couldn't help his eyes being etched onto every movement you made, each twist and contortion serving a reminder that he got to be the one to do this to you, a sick sense of gratification spread around his own body.
each breath had become a battle for a gulp of thick air, a familiar tightness gracing your stomach, and it was all you could do to grasp at the sheet beside you and screw your eyes shut, the all too familiar peak bounding closer as he feverishly lapped against you, the increased pace and newfound harshness pushing you over the edge, frenzied whines torn from your throat as your lower body practically went limp, euphoria dizzying your head as the familiar knot snapped, moans tumbling from you as your muscles relaxed against the mattress.
arthur on the other hand, had become completely buried in the bliss, groans leaving him as he lapped against you, leaving you to squirm and whine in overstimulation his hands only gripped at your thighs tighter, leaving you unable to move, just babbling whimpers falling from your lips, as he paused for a moment only to reassure, "come on, sweetheart, you can take a little more... been two whole weeks without the taste of you, need you for a little longer," he murmured before burying his head back between your legs without a moment for you to respond.
all you wanted was to desperately please him, as black spots clouded your vision and tears pricked your eyes whilst you fell into a complete oblivion, the orgasm-ecstasy mixed with the ache of your poor throbbing core was a pain that you had somewhat grown to love, whilst fighting the overwhelming urge to jerk your hips with every slight movement, tightly wound.
he only became more sloppy, the mix of spit and arousal coating the bottom half of his face, your fingers curling into his hair as a plea for release, your core only becoming more overstimulated by the second as he failed to slow down, your hips jerking desperately as a tug on his hair made him come to, and he looked at you with an apologetic grin as he pulled away.
"atta girl, did such a good job," he murmured out, proud smirk plastered on his face, his arm raising to quickly wipe his face as he lifted himself up, hand quickly moving to card through your hair in a sincere manner, a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, "knew you could take a little more, you always like the ache," he said, matter of factly. and you hated that he was right, the frenzied end of arousal always a desperate act to see how long you could go, how much you could really take, a game arthur so desperately loved playing.
you giggled a slight bit, breath still panting and face flushed red as you were basically rendered immobile, your limbs closer to jelly, "uh huh, just went a little too long," you said gently, tucked next to arthur in a slightly needy post-orgasm haze.
"just got too focused, could do that all day if you'd let me," he grinned a little cheekily, and you rolled your eyes playfully, allowing your bodyweight to rest against arthurs chest in a sobering state, "although, i may mess up more if that's the way i get to make it better,"
you gave him a slight stern look, and he laughed a little, holding a hand up in mock apology, "kidding, i'm kidding." he confirmed, "i just know how easy it is for you to forgive me when i'm between your legs, and i mean fuck, i'm not complaining."
"for the love of god, don't leave me alone for another two weeks," you joked back in return, and he nodded his head, a smirk still stuck there.
"how on earth could i leave you for another two weeks when you just reminded me how much you need me?"
"don't joke, i missed you," you said, in a coy voice, and he chuckled slightly in response.
"i know, lovie. i missed you too." he murmured gently, pressing another kiss to your hairline as your eyes shut momentarily in bliss, "love you, you know. i'm sorry i was shitty, i really do love you."
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darnell-la · 2 months ago
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I need a JJ smut with a praise/degradation kink😩 ik it’s vague but just anything pls
note: send us more requests! we’ve been doing our best to posts our stories that have been sitting in our drafts to feed you all!
———
“Ssh, baby — Don’t want the others to hear this pussy getting fucked, don’t you? That would be so embarrassing right? You know, after you said all night to the girls that I’m not your type,”
Y/n felt horrible, knowing she would let JJ take her just like this if he had just asked. Well, he didn’t ask, he just took her however he wanted.
“I-I was just kidding,” y/n said, making the young man chuckle. “Yeah, of course you were,” JJ grabbed a hand full of y/n’s hair to tilt her head before looking directly in her eyes.
“You’re a horrible liar, you know? With them and me. You think I didn’t know you wanted me all over you? You’re always on me when you’re drunk, so of course, I knew you needed me,”
JJ’s ego was already huge before, but now, he went overboard with it. Having y/n under him, squirming and begging him to keep going was somehting any average man would want from her, and he had it.
“Gonna keep you tight on my hip. Need this pretty pussy soaking me whenever I want,” JJ smirked down at her as her eyes crossed, trying to control herself, but it wasn’t looking well.
“Gonna cum? Again, baby — So fucking pathetic,” JJ laughed as he snapped his hips harder. “Try to take it, baby. Lord know you fuckin’ can’t,” JJ pushed y/n’s waist down, pinning her into his mattress to trap her and give her limited movement.
“G-Gonna cum, Jay,” y/n whined low, trying to keep herself together, but it was far past that. The crew knew exactly what was going on in his room right after he pulled her in to have a serious conversation.
“Oh, yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum for me? Cum on my bed like a good little pougie whore,” JJ teased, knowing she’s a Kook but would do anything to stay friends with the better people of the island.
“Cum on me, and I’ll forgive you. I’ll forgive your harsh harsh words,” y/n hated his mocking voice, but loved it at the same time. That what made her I’m all over his cock and sheets for the rest is the night.
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makoodles · 2 years ago
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ミ tìtunu
part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw
🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader
🍓word count: 9k words (oops)
🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching
yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.
After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.
His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it. 
It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.
“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”
They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.
The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”
“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.
But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.
“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”
Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”
Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.
“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”
Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.
“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”
Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.
“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”
“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts. 
The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober. 
“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”
Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”
Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.
Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.
“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.
Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. 
“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”
Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.
“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”
Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out. 
“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”
Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.
Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.
You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.
Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.
Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”
“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”
“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”
Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.
Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”
Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”
It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.
“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.
Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?
“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”
Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.
That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly. 
That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.
When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation. 
I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.
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Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People. 
Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places. 
Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.
He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest. 
When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.
Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.
“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”
Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.
“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”
Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”
His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt. 
Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”
“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”
“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand. 
Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.
“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”
“And Mo’at?”
“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”
Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.
“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”
“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”
That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.
“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”
That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.
“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”
Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.
“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.
She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”
Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?
“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.
Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.
“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.
It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.
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When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.
The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before. 
This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders. 
He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful. 
The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can. 
Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.
He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker. 
Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.
One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?
You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves. 
The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.
Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.
His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.
He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.
He just bares his teeth in warning.
“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”
Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.
“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”
That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.
Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.
“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.
You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?
He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”
They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.
You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”
“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.
 When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.
Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.
 Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.
Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.
“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.
That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”
Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes? 
Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.
You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”
Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”
Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.
He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.
His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.
“Would you like to come fishing?”
You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?
“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”
Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.
“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”
It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.
You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?
“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”
Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off. 
“Come then.”
Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional. 
His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.
“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.
Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish. 
He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display. 
You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.
Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.
In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank. 
You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.
He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.
You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.
“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”
The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.
“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.
You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.
“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”
His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway. 
He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.
Time for the next step.
“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”
Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.
Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”
Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”
“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you. 
He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation. 
This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.
Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.
You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.
And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.
When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him. 
He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.
It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship. 
He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.
But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones. 
His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features. 
The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck. 
He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.
Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him. 
His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.
Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.
His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.
He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft. 
He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.
As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.
You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.
You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.
“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him. 
You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.
“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.
You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.
For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.
Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”
It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it. 
When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.
He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.
“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”
“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking? 
“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”
You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.
He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal. 
“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.
Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.
“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”
Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?
 “Of course.”
“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.
You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.
When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.
You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.
“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.
The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance. 
“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back. 
You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.
As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.
He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.  
Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.
When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.
It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.
“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you. 
Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”
The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.
“I do not, usually. This is different.”
“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.
Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.
“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”
You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking. 
“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.
Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.
You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.
Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away. 
“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.
Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him. 
Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.
Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.
“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”
“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before. 
You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?
Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.
His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.
Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.
He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.
His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit. 
A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.
“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”
He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.
“Tsu’tey?”
He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth. 
Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.
He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience. 
You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.
“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.
“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”
“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front. 
He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”
You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible. 
Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself. 
He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.
 It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.
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lust4lore · 1 year ago
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ARFARFARF so down bad for brattamer n casually dominant(by nature) kinda dark rafe n bimbo reader🤭🤭 imagine reader talkin to a random stranger in a bar or club or whateva she thinks its js a friendly interaction n shit after that rafes js there thinking 150 ways how to kill the guy for flirting wit his pretty little thing then she says it was a nice friendly convo n hes like whst???? yeah ahaha.... im obsessed pls forgive me
OH THIS GOT THE JUICES FLOWINGGG
the creative juices. get your head out of the gutter. that being said, thank you for your request! i hope i did it justice
CW: controlling!rafe, mildly dark!rafe, mmm kinda breaking my own guidelines w this one but VERY slight domestic violence? you get the point, manipulation
rafe cameron likes pretty things. so much, in fact, that he had known he was done for the second he saw you. you were cute— innocent— in a pink silk dress, ribbon in your hair and a sweet smile tugging at the corners of rosy lips. he just had to have you, and a year later, he did.
another well known fact about rafe cameron, though, is that he doesn’t share. and so, imagine his surprise when he comes back from the bathroom to see some man talking to you at the bar. he watches you for a moment, the rage settling in his veins enough to get his jaw clenching as you bat your eyelashes and giggle at whatever stupid joke that bastard just told you, pretty lips sucking at your straw as his gaze flickers down to your chest.
now that has rafe seeing red. he comes up behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist and causing you to slightly stumble back at the force of it. “hey, baby, who’s this?” he asks, fingers lightly twitching against your stomach. if you’re aware of the waves of fury radiating from him, you do nothing to show it, turning around in his hold with a naive smile and bright eyes. “rafey! this is alex, he wants to be friends,” you tell him, gesturing towards that sick perver— alex— behind you. “oh, does he?” he asks, but rafe isn’t talking to you, not really. if looks could kill, your new ‘friend’ would be further than six feet under the ground. “y’know, alex, i think my girl has enough friends already,” he squeezes your side, glancing down at you. “don’t you think, sweetheart?” the grasp he has on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin in a way that’ll probably bruise later.
you tilt your head, a crease forming between your brows as you lower your voice. “rafe, what- ow!” you yelp quietly as his iron grip bores into your ribs. he pays you no mind, though, still fixing alex with a chilling, eerily calm smile. “shit, man, i’m sorry, i’ll- m’gonna head out now,” the shorter boy mutters, looking intimidated as he staggers backward and rushes out the door. rafe gives a quiet chuckle at that and one of his hands grabs your wrist, yanking you closer. tears prick your eyes as he nearly cuts off the circulation in your hand, leaning in close to your face. “the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? letting other guys flirt with you like that?”
you let out a whimper at his harsh words, a tear rolling down your pretty face. “he was jus’ being nice, i-” you whisper, and a hint of satisfaction cuts through his anger. look at you, you need him, who else’ll be there to protect you from all of those gross guys trying to get a piece of his sweet girl? he sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “c’mon, doll, you know better, did you see the way he was lookin’ at you?” you just look up at him, tears still sitting in your waterline as he presses a kiss to your trembling lips. “i didn’t mean to make you upset, a’ight? m’just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, and you instantly feel a little guilty for the way you reacted. “m’sorry, i didn’t know he was-” but rafe shushes you, stroking your cheek gently.
“s’okay, baby, you’ll remember who you belong to when we get home,”
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br4tphobia · 2 years ago
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twinnem!! give me the top three times ony everrrrrr made his girl squirt!! like…….the top 3 most toe curling body jiggling eye rolling times hes made his boo buss it the FUCK open
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AAA hey mama twwinnnn !!!! 🤭🤭 — omg its giving squirt contest ???!?!??! (scold me if this isnt to ur liking . 😞😞😞)
minors dni pls 😭
#1 .. your first time, telling him you never squirted 🤷🏾‍♀️
"are you serious.?" his tone is in disbelief, shocked by your words. "yes onyann!" — "You wanna try it? itll feel good, baby." "fuck it, sure.." next thing you know you find yourself exposed infront of your boyfriend, legs held up as he fingers you. “cmon mama.. you got it..” his voice is hushed in your ears, kissing and sucking on your neck. squirming around his fingers roughly abusing your walls, the pad of his thumb brushing on your clit every few flick of his wrist. he was determined to complete his task, nothing else was on his mind. your whimpers n moans are louder by the second, something overwhelming n heavy coming. the feeling of your pussy getting wetter and fluttering around his fingers, your body gets weaker, not being able to hold your legs up like onyan had warned you. slowly lowering your legs, his lips leave yours with his other hand wrapped on your neck, “hold em, baby.” he warns you with a light squeeze. — “f-fuck im sorry papa..!” more and more aching thrusts to your poor pussy that overwhelming feeling approaching you again, knowing what you hopefully thought was gonna happen “papa..papaa!” gripping on his biceps when you finally break. “there you go mama, doesnt that feel good?” cooing in your ear with a couple slaps to your wet cunt blocking your juices splashing on his abdomen a few times. “yes.. oh my god..” “told you.”
#2 ony punishing you for actin out 🤭
“lost that attitude.” his tone is warningly, swiping n typing whatever on his phone. “shut up talkin to me. pissin me the fuck off..” — “bet” you smack your lips with a roll to your eyes. “youre going to do..?” waiting for a response from the man paying no attention to you, all was heard was pure silence which was loud. “just keep that same energy.” meanwhile… “shittt .. im sorry papa!” your voice cracks at his mean pace — “shut that shit up mama.” your head was pushed into the mattress, your pussy aches fro m multiple orgasms in a row but it feels so good, face down your ass up, drool seeping out the corner of your moth, hair being pulled to go deeper in your guts, clawing at the sheets, not being able to do anything but curse n moan while he destroy yo shit. a harsh slap goes to your ass, ripples displaying from constantly being pushed back into his lower abdomen. due to loss of balance you lean off the bed a bit, “aht, where you goin?” — “nowhere baby, oh my godd” whining at his words, regretting your actions. he grabs you by your next to hold you in place, more and more fast, harsh stinging strokes piercing your insides he triggers that one spot. “slow down oya— fuuck!” silent screams leaving you breathless as you gush all over his dick, his pelvis glistening from your liquified orgasm. “mhm~..shit..” stroking you deep to spark more out of you. “might js forgive you for that..but you can give me one more, right?” “wait baby fuck.. shitshitshit” another slap to your ass, cursing n whining at the pleasurable pain. “i asked you a question, answer.” “yes! i can papa..” “thats what i like to hear.”
#3 a lil intimate moment with ony pounding up into you while u ridin 😋
“just like that mama..fuck you ride this dick so good..” moaning n groaning all up in eachothers ear, his hands gripping on you ass with your arms wrapped around his neck. your breasts bouncing beautifully in his face, taking one into his mouth. your nipple leaving the warm wetness soon with the pressure put on your back. his arms wrapped around your waist causing your breath to hitch,, “relax..let papa feel on his pretty girl, yeah?” “mm.. kay.” mumbled through you being lost in the pleasure. onyan tightens his arms around you and starts bucking his hips up, “baby! mphh!” burying your face in the crook of his neck to lower your pornographic sounds, “let me hear you, princess.” the instinct to lift your head up just like he asked took over, your loud moans filling his ears. “papa im gonna—“ cut off my your explosive orgasm. still being fucked through it roughly, dripping onto the silk sheets on the mattress, covering the both of you in your own juices. “makin’ a mess for me?” “m’sorry baby…” , “nono it ain nothing new, so why apologize?” “boy..”
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girlboybug · 7 months ago
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daddy issues
“you ask me what i'm thinkin' about, i tell you that i'm thinking about whatever you're thinking about."
or the one where your boyfriend reminds you that you’re all he could ever want.
*unedited*
what’s playing 🎧: daddy issues by the neighbourhood
pairing : dilf!farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)
word count : 3k
CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, dilf farleigh au mmm can you tell i’m ovulating, un protected sex, breeding kink, light impact play (he slaps reader a few times but nothing crazy), spitting, brief mentions of an exhibitionistic fantasy, size kink if you squint, cervix kissing yum, slight manhandling :3
TRIGGER WARNINGS : light slapping but nothing harsh and it’s all consensual, ermmm age gap with a power imbalance both professionally and morally but it’s all legal and reader is of age. if i’ve missed anything pls lmk.
a/n : hi guys! i know it's been a while since i've posted any work and i'm so sorry to anyone who has been wanting any updates. i missed you all, but life has been not the best. i won't share whats been going on, as tumblr is a safe space for me and id rather not bring my real life troubles onto here. i hope you guys enjoy this and forgive me for my absence <3
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“you’re staring.” he says, not bothering to meet your eyes. you clear your throat, feeling flushed when you look away. “sorry.” you mumble, holding your legs close to your chest. farleigh sighs, shutting down his laptop and swiveling around in his chair before making his way towards you on the bed. your body lights up the second his proximity to you gets a little closer, and he sees it. 
it’s hard to not see it. 
he knows you try to hide it, to not seem like such an eager little girl, but your internal excitement when it comes to him is just so visibly external. it’s cute, it’s honest and it’s sweet, it’s one of the reasons why he likes you so much. 
you welcome him in with open arms, parting your legs for him to climb in between and nestle himself into. he picks you up from the mattress with ease, his large hands supporting you by the hips and the bottom of your ass to reposition you on top of him. 
he rests his hands on your thighs, watching as you rest yours on his broad chest, gently smoothing down the material of his white button up, the small embroidered dior catching your eye on the inside of his collar. 
“you’ve been quiet today.” he states, his warm hands bringing life to your skin beneath your silk slip. “because you told me to be,” you frown, slumping. he laughs, twiddling with the lace hem at the bottom of your short little slip. “yeah, but you never actually listen.” his thumb guides your chin upwards, pulling your gaze back up to his eyes. “so what’s making you actually listen today?” he asks softly, his hand engulfing your cheek. you lean into his palm, sighing to yourself. 
“i dunno,” you shrug, feeling small under his stare. “you dunno?” he repeats back, semi mockingly, but mostly full of endearment. you huff, glaring at him. he laughs again, and it makes something stir in your stomach. everything about him is so attractive, it can be upsetting at times. sometimes inconvenient.
there’s been more times you can count where you’ve sat on the sidelines while he conducts business meetings, strikes deals, makes compromises that are really more so situations that fully benefit him but worded to make it seem like they benefit the other person as well — and other business-y jargon you can hardly keep up with. but it doesn’t matter if you understand what’s going on or not, every time you sit and watch him in his element it lights a desire to stick your hand under your skirt and take care of the ache beginning to build. 
it’s just so hot seeing him be ahead of every single one of his colleagues, running circles around them with ease. his intelligence and capability is just so alluring. you think that it comes with his age too, the experience, the knowledge on life. you’ve always thought older men were the standard for attractiveness, and when you met farleigh, he somehow managed to raise the standard you had set in the stars and bring it to a level far beyond that. 
but with that, comes a sense of competitiveness with other women in his field. all closer to his age, more experienced than you are in almost every important aspect. it makes you a little insecure from time to time. you’re the first woman in her mid twenties he’s been with since he was in his mid twenties. he’s now approaching his early forties and it makes you nervous that maybe one day your company will bore him and he’ll crave someone else who can keep up with him. 
this morning at the bright and early hour of 7am, that fear was reignited in you. you watched from your desk, as your boss, your boyfriend, discuss things you don’t think you’d even really be able to understand, with a beautiful woman in his office. a woman closer to his age.
you watched as he laughed with her, as he let her run her hand down his forearm, watching as he let her hug him before she exited. to wrap a neat bow around the shit filled box, she made it a point to send a condescending smile to you on her way out, almost like she just knew. 
but, you know she’s just a coworker, she’s not even in the same department as he is, and is usually located in another location across the state but it felt horrible to see them interact. and it felt even worse knowing they would look good together, complementing one another with a high sense of class and elegance. 
farleigh anchors you back to him, squeezing your hip and gently patting your cheek. “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he murmurs, looking at you intently. “hmm?” 
“do you think i’m too young for you?” you suddenly ask, eyes already lined with tears. he’s a bit taken aback, not expecting the line of questioning. he takes a moment, swiping away your fallen tears. “no, i don’t. if i did, this—we wouldn’t be happening.” he says clearly, matter of factly, but there’s gentleness in his words, he wants to wipe away any doubt that might linger in your mind about you two. “why? do you think i’m too old for you?” he questions further, sitting up and pulling you along with him, making sure with every movement you remain close. you shake your head, sniffling.
“no,” you huff. “but i was watching you with…that woman in your office and i just…” you trail off, looking down at his button up again, smoothing down invisible wrinkles. 
“got a little jealous?” he can’t help the smile that grows on his face and raises his tone, it’s embarrassing and you return his inflating ego with a silencing glare. “yes.” you admit, somewhat annoyed, but you know it stems from your insecurity and fear that he’ll confirm it. 
“baby,” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “i’m far from interested in her. i’ve got my eye on a new girl,” he grins, his tongue poking his cheek. “yeah?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest, suppressing your smile. “who is she?” 
he looks off to the side wistfully, exhaling with desire. “ohh i don’t think you’d know her,” he waves you off, sighing when he leans back into the headboard. “she’s my secretary. she wears these tight little pencil skirts, and she has a habit of bending over often. i think she does it on purpose.” he adds, his hands running up and down your thighs. your efforts in keeping a straight face fall flat, your smile betraying them and perking the corners of your lips. 
“oh really?” you giggle, leaning forward. “why don’t you make a move on her?” you tilt your head, wondering what his answer will be. “i’m thinking about it. i’m thinking about telling her how i watch her from my office when she thinks i can’t see her, how i think about bending her over her own desk and fucking her in front of all the little boys in their cubicles who think they have a chance with her.” 
warmth floods your cheeks like a tide pool, dragging you into the depths of nervousness. his smart tongue and dirty mouth still manage to catch you off guard, never failing in making you flustered and shy. he loves it, he loves how easy it is to play with you.
you can feel him getting hard under you, and it excites you, it makes that familiar ache trickle all over. “i don’t think she’d be against that.” you reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your words, but he hears it. he can always see through you and your little acts. 
“oh you think so?” he hums, squeezing your hips. you nod, leaning in closer, nudging your nose with his. “i think so.” you whisper, your lips brushing against his.
“you feel that?” he murmurs, lightly grinding his bulge against your panty clad cunt. you whimper softly, nodding. “it’s only ever for you,” he breathes out, pressing his lips to your lovingly with a chaste kiss. he peppers kisses to your lips over and over until he sinks into you, pulling you in with a hand behind your head. 
he moans into your mouth, gripping your hips and planting you firmly on his cock, rocking into you with haste. the pressure and friction ripples through your cunt, nudging your clit just the way you need. you cup his cheeks while you kiss farleigh, melting into him and sighing with content when he migrates from your lips, sucking hot bruises into the side of your neck. 
“i need you,” you whimper, meaning the sentiment in more ways than one. farleigh is the only man who’s ever made you feel the way that you do, emotionally and physically. you’ll always need him, whether it be a strong shoulder to cry on, or a strong shoulder to bite into when he’s got you nearly folded in half, fucking you stupid. 
“how bad?” he breathes out, bringing his hand between your grinding hips, pressing his long fingers firmly against your cunt. he can feel the dampness seep through the material, laughing smugly when you gasp. “real bad huh?” he adds, humming in agreement when you nod dumbly. “i know baby,” he coos, kissing the space beneath your ear. 
you shrug off the spaghetti straps of your slip, a breath of a shock being pulled from your lips when he acts faster than you, eagerly tugging down the white silk material to expose your bare chest. he groans to himself, lurching forward and taking your soft flesh in his mouth. 
you arch your back closer to him, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape with soft moans trickling out into the dimly lit room. he plays with you, rutting his hips into yours, hands and tongue lapping up and groping your breasts, hungrily squeezing, licking and nipping at your flesh. 
your hands play with the curls at the back of his neck, tugging with a gasp when you feel his teeth graze your nipples. “farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back, trying to grind harder on his cock. “need you,” he kisses your sternum, looking up at you with his hands far beneath your slip, wrapped around your sides, fingers gently skimming across your ribs. “i’m right here baby,” his voice cascading around you like caramel, enveloping you in its golden hue, rich and sweet. 
he pushes your dampened panties to the side, groaning to himself at the sight of your cunt glistening. he thumbs at your lips, sighing lowly and spreading you apart. 
his thumb rubs over your clit, chuckling when your lips part and a shaky moan escapes out. he rescinds his warm touch faster than you would’ve appreciated, softly cooing away your sounds of disappointment. he lifts you off of his lap, laying you gently down on your back. his large hand cradles the back of your head, lowering you down onto the pillow below you. 
he unties his tie, discarding it somewhere to be found by the maids in the morning, a shaky sigh fluttering from your lips at the view of him above you. the soft glow of the lamp on your shared nightstand wafts all around him, tracing the outline of his full curls, highlighting his cheekbones and drawing a line down the bridge of his nose. his lips tempt you without having to move at all, no movements in forming words, he just stares at you and with that alone, you’re a perfect malleable thing ready for whatever he has planned. 
“you’re beautiful,” he states in a breath of admiration, leaning back down towards you. “my girl,” he sighs, kissing your neck, breathing in the dainty vanilla, floral scent from the dolce & gabbana perfume you begged him for. but beneath the expensive perfume is your scent. your sweet natural scent he can never seem to get enough of, always crouching down to hug you from the back and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, sniffing right at the sweet spot. and now, it just turns him on further, fishing out his cock from his dress slacks, too bothered to take the extra steps in sliding them off his hips, too eager, too desperate to feel you, to be close to you, to be in you. 
he pushes in, tugging a deep gasp from the depths of your chest. he groans the second your cunt envelopes him in, gripping him in and squeezing. your walls pulse around the girth of him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. he grinds his hips, shuddering above you. “fuck baby,” he chuckles in disbelief, kissing your collarbone. 
“god,” you choke out, swallowing thickly, dragging your fingertips down his back. he starts pivoting his hips deeper in you, slowly pumping in and out, wanting to take his time with you, relishing in being able to savor your cunt. it’s been a few weeks since you both have had sex, he’s just been so busy with work, he hasn’t had the time to fuck you like you deserve, but now he has all the time in the world, and he intends to use it until the very last second. 
you feel so full of him and you find yourself somehow wanting more, wishing you could be with him deeper, but in the same breath as that thought, he knocks whatever you have left in your lungs right out, pushing into you deeper as if he could sense what you wanted. your calves rest on his lower back, keeping him flush inside you.
gentleness starts to shed, and an eager pace takes its place, his hips moving faster and his cock hitting harder. your clit brushes against his trimmed bristle of pubic hair, whimpering at the friction, tears already brimming your pretty eyes as he fucks you. 
and then you say something you’ve never said before, never even really thought of or fantasized about, but as you stare at him, watching him fuck you like he owns you, you can’t help it from coming out. “hit me,” you whimper pathetically, hardened nipples pressed to his chest with desperation. he stills inside you for a moment, panting with a look of confusion, unsure if you really just said what you said. 
“what baby?” he asks breathlessly, swallowing thickly. “hit me, touch me, please farleigh,” you plead, fisting at his button up, grinding your hips down to try and regain some friction. he’s ashamed with the way his cock twitches inside of you at your desperation. so unadulterated and unfiltered in the act of something so filthy. 
his hips start moving again, and he’s grabbing at your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. “open.” he commands, and like a dutiful believer, you obey, parting your mouth for him. he spits and you swallow without being told to, moaning with a gasp when his hand lands on your cheek afterwards with zero infliction of pain, but enough heaviness to remind you his strength is there. it’s simply withheld to avoid hurting you and bruising your pretty face. 
your cunt squeezes around him, arching your back into his chest as his hips pivot harder into yours. he takes notice, landing another firm but lovingly smack across your cheek. before your moan gains sound, his large palm covers your mouth, his lips finding your ear. “be quiet and listen,” he murmurs, leaving the air silent. all you can hear is him fucking you, how wet and loud you are. “you’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles in your ear, and the moan that follows behind his palm just proves his point further. 
“do you hear that?” he shoves his hips in, pinning yours down with his available hand, giving more access for him to push in deeper. the fat tip of his cock nudges at your cervix, filling you out more than anyone ever has. “making a mess all over my slacks baby.” he grunts, but there’s no complaints to be found. 
when he finally removes his hand from your lips, he’s greeted with your heavenly moans, rendering him weak with his face in your neck, mouth baring hot kisses, groaning your name. 
his hand that nearly dwarfs your face comes back down, slapping the side of your cheek, his warm palm cradling it after the impact, his thumb running along your pouring waterline. “my little crybaby,” he grunts with humor, his hand sliding from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his other hand following suit. he presses down, forcing you to crane your neck downward, focusing your gaze on the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your puffy cunt. “watch.” he utters in your ear, his teeth catching your earlobe before he pulls away. 
and you do. 
you watch him take you over and over, his hips slamming into yours, occasionally stilling in you to let the weight of his cock buried deep inside you hang heavy.
your legs tremble around him, unable to soothe them from the adrenaline that comes with getting fucked. “touch yourself.” he exhales, bringing his lips to your forehead. “wanna feel you cum,” and that alone could have made you finish. you bring your fingers to your aching clit, moaning a drawn out whimper at the stimulation. he watches himself fuck you, how he stretches you out and how your cunt accommodates him every time. 
“fuck,” you sob, panting heavily, sweat starting to collect around your neck and trickle between your breasts. “can i cum?” you plead through a choked moan, clit throbbing in excitement when he nods, picking up the pace in his thrusts. he releases your neck, traveling up to your jaw and bringing you closer to his mouth. his lips are pressed to your’s in milliseconds, drinking in every little sound you let out as he fucks you through your orgasm.
a bruising grip rests on your jaw and hip, like a wordless statement of how much of you belongs to him. which is everything. you can’t think of a single thing about you that you could say isn’t apart of farleigh; hell, you can’t think at all right now, not when your poor cunt is getting pounded into and your shaky fingers can’t seem to stop rubbing circles over your clit. the feelings that deluge through your body are addictive, it feels so good that it trickles into a delicious type of hurt. 
you’ve already cum, its existence proven by the white ring around the base of his cock, the sight has your hole weakly tightening around him. with no forewarning, he pulls out, leaving you hollow and empty, wincing from the loss.
before you can voice your confusion and protests, he’s flipping you around, guiding your hips back up, large hand pressing your cheek into the pillows below you. he’s back in you as soon as he exited you, groaning lowly to himself. “fuckin’ perfect.” he grunts mostly to himself, his cock twitching at the sweet little gasp you let out from the new angle. he travels into you deeper this way, nudging your cervix with every other thrust. 
he curls behind your back, his chest pressed flush against your shoulder blades, his lips nipping and sucking bruises into the crook of your neck, breathing in your earthy dulcet scent. he brings your wrists to the small of your back, keeping them in place while his thrusts start to become more and more sporadic. “gonna cum, tell me how bad you want it,” he grits, feeling his climax fast approaching, eager to finish to the sweet sound of you begging for his cum. 
begging for him to cum inside of you is as easy as breathing, if not easier, since he always manages to take your breath away, whether that be by his charming smile or with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat. “please cum in me,” you sob, tears staining the white silk pillowcases. “wanna be full of you, please farleigh, i need it, need it so bad,” you babble mindlessly, trying to fuck your over sensitive cunt onto him, your ass meeting him with every pivot he sends into you. 
normally, he’d push you a little more, too indulgent in his desires to let you have it that easily. but the way you fuck yourself onto him and cry for him is enough to make any man give in. his pants come out sharp, his thrusts matching the tempo of his thumping pulse, spilling into you with a loud groan of your name, his hips fused firmly to your ass. he pumps into a few more times, swallowing hard at the sight of his and your sticky cum and the mess it's made. “gonna pull out now baby,” he murmurs softly in your shoulder blade, kissing the skin lovingly. you wince, squeezing your eyes shut, collapsing back into the bed with your legs tucked close to you.
he crawls over on top of you, running his hands across your clammy forehead and temple. he peppers gentle kisses over your warm skin, humming quietly. “you okay?” he asks, laying beside you, pulling you into him after tucking himself back into his slacks. “mhm,” you nod lazily, shuffling around to face him. he chuckles, kissing your nose. 
his arm wraps around you, securing you into his chest, rubbing your back in relaxing circles. his hand sneaks between your legs, scooping his cum with his fingers, shushing you playfully when you whimper, your hips shying away from his touch. “behave,” he chastises lightly, bringing his fingers to your lips. “open.” you open your bitten lips, tongue darting out along his digits, licking him clean. you hum something of approval, kissing the pads of his fingers before he pulls them away. “good?” he mumbles against your cheek. “good.” you confirm, kissing his hair.
he snakes his arms around your waist, unsatisfied with how far you feel from him wanting to be as close as humanly possible. you’ve always loved how touchy he remained after sex, used to the two pump and dump cycle you’ve had with past guys.
unlike them, farleigh isn’t just some guy, he’s a man – granted a man old enough to be your father, but that never bothered you, if anything it added to the appeal. but regardless of all of that, he loves you, loves being near you even in non-sexual contexts. he proves it every day, like he is now, whispering about how pretty you look right now. “i love you,” he says softly, and it sounds like the first time he said it, gentle and nervous. it makes you smile, opening your heavy eyes to peer into his. “i love you.” you repeat back with just as much truth and confirmation. “i love you,” you kiss him, sealing your promise with your lips pressed together.
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geotjwrs · 13 days ago
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can I ask for another part of no one's home pls?
beneath of it
Pairings ; Wednesday Addams x Male!Reader
Warning/s ; none
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The days following that conversation were even harder than you imagined. Wednesday's request for a second chance lingered in your mind, replaying in an endless loop. Could you trust her again? Could you forgive her? Could you forgive yourself for even wanting to?
The hallways of Nevermore felt colder now. You and Wednesday didn't cross paths often, but when you did, there was always that heavy, unspoken tension between you. She would glance at you, her expression unreadable, but you never lingered long enough to figure it out. You wanted space; you needed it.
Yet, somehow, the universe seemed intent on forcing you two together.
It was late in the evening when Enid, Wednesday's roommate and one of the few people who had noticed the distance between the two of you, found you sitting by the edge of the forest. She approached cautiously, her usual bubbly energy dampened by the weight of concern.
"Y/N?" Enid's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I've been meaning to talk to you."
You sighed, leaning back against the tree behind you. "If this is about Wednesday, I really don't want to hear it, Enid."
Enid sighed as she sat down next to you, brushing her long, colorful hair over her shoulder. "Look, I know what happened. Not everything, but... enough."
You turned to her, surprised. "She told you?"
She nodded. "Not exactly in a heartfelt, soul-bearing way—she's still Wednesday—but she mentioned that she messed up. That she hurt you."
You rubbed your hands together, feeling the familiar sting of heartache. "She kissed Tyler. She never even kissed me. And then... she called me a burden."
Enid winced. "I'm sorry. That's... yeah, that's harsh."
"It broke me, Enid," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how to move past that."
Enid was silent for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. "You know, Wednesday isn't exactly the best at handling feelings. She's never been the type to open up or admit when she's wrong. And if she told you she wants a second chance, that's her way of saying she... cares."
You snorted bitterly. "Cares? She cared enough to kiss Tyler."
Enid shook her head. "That was a mistake. A huge one. But Tyler? That's a whole different mess, and you need to know the truth."
A knot of unease formed in your stomach. "What do you mean?"
Enid hesitated, then glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "You know Tyler's the Hyde, right?"
You stared at her, your heart suddenly racing. "What?"
"Wednesday's been trying to figure out who the Hyde is for weeks. She was sure it was Xavier at first, but Tyler... he's the real monster." Enid's eyes widened, trying to make you understand the weight of what she was saying. "That kiss? I think it was part of her plan. Trying to get close to him, trying to learn more about the Hyde. She was focused on the case—maybe too focused. But you have to understand, Y/N, it wasn't about him. It wasn't even about you."
The revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. Tyler was the Hyde. Wednesday kissed him as part of her investigation. But that didn't change the fact that it had still happened, that she had said things to you she could never take back.
"Why didn't she tell me any of this?" you asked, frustration building. "I could've helped."
"Because she thought you were in danger. She didn't want you involved." Enid looked at you with sympathy. "Wednesday doesn't always know how to show it, but she pushes people away when she's scared. She thought the Hyde might come after you if you got too close."
You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "I don't need her protection. I just wanted her honesty."
"I know," Enid said softly. "And maybe she does, too."
The next few days passed in a blur. Your mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. You felt betrayed, but you also understood why she had kept things from you. It didn't excuse her actions, but it added a new layer of complexity to the situation.
Then came the night everything changed.
Nevermore had fallen into a tense silence as word spread that the Hyde had been captured. Tyler had been taken into custody, but the damage had already been done. You hadn't seen Wednesday since the arrest, and part of you was relieved. The space between you still felt fragile, like one wrong move could shatter everything.
But late one night, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, there was a knock at your door.
You didn't have to ask who it was.
You opened the door to find Wednesday standing there, her dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn't quite place. It wasn't the usual cool indifference. There was something deeper, more conflicted.
"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You sighed but stepped aside, letting her in.
Wednesday stood in the center of your room, her hands clasped in front of her, her usual confidence replaced by something almost vulnerable. "I'm not good at this," she began, her eyes flickering to the floor. "But I know I owe you an explanation."
You folded your arms, waiting.
"I... made a mistake," she said, her voice quieter than you'd ever heard it. "With Tyler. With the case. With you. I thought I was doing what was necessary, but I hurt you in the process."
You didn't say anything, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I thought I could handle everything on my own," she continued, her voice wavering. "I thought I didn't need anyone. But... I was wrong. I pushed you away because I was afraid. Afraid that if I let you get too close, you'd get hurt. Or worse."
You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. "You still kissed him, Wednesday. You called me a burden."
"I know," she said, stepping closer, her eyes locking onto yours. "And I regret it. I regret all of it. I didn't mean those things. I just didn't know how to handle... us."
Her admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had wanted this—an apology, an explanation—but now that it was here, you didn't know if it was enough.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," you said finally, your voice breaking. "Not after everything."
Wednesday looked down, her expression unreadable. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But I do care about you, Y/N. More than I realized."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling between you. You stared at her, trying to make sense of everything. Could you really trust her again? Could you let her back into your heart after everything she had done?
Before you could respond, there was a sudden loud crash outside your window, followed by a low growl that sent chills down your spine. You and Wednesday exchanged a glance before rushing to the window.
The Hyde was back.
But Tyler was in custody. How could this be?
Without thinking, you and Wednesday darted outside, your heart pounding as you made your way into the dark woods. You could hear the growls growing closer, and the realization hit you like a freight train. Tyler wasn't the only Hyde. There was another.
The monster lurked in the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the faint moonlight. It lunged at you, but Wednesday was faster, her knife flashing in the darkness as she dodged its attack.
"Stay back," she ordered, her voice sharp. "This isn't your fight."
But you didn't listen. You weren't going to stand by and let her handle it alone—not this time.
The battle was fierce, the Hyde's monstrous strength nearly overwhelming. But together, you and Wednesday fought with everything you had. The creature was relentless, its claws slashing through the air as it tried to tear you apart.
Finally, with a well-placed strike, Wednesday brought the creature down, her breathing ragged as she stood over its fallen body. But before you could catch your breath, the creature stirred, its eyes glowing with fury.
It wasn't dead. Not yet.
The Hyde lunged again, its claws aimed directly at you. But in a split second, Wednesday stepped in front of you, taking the hit.
She gasped, her body crumpling to the ground as blood seeped from her side.
As you rushed to Wednesday's side after defeating the Hyde, you found her alive—just badly hurt. Her breathing was shallow, but she was far from the brink of death.
"Wednesday, hang on. I've got you," you said, your voice trembling with concern.
She opened her eyes, grimacing as she clutched her side. "I'm... fine," she muttered, her pride refusing to let her admit how much pain she was in.
You helped her to her feet, your arm supporting her as she winced. Despite the pain, she refused to show weakness. "We need to get back to Nevermore," you said urgently.
"I can walk," she insisted, her expression cold but faltering for a moment.
Still, you didn't let go. "I'm not leaving you to handle this alone anymore, Wednesday. We're in this together. Whether you like it or not."
There was a pause. Wednesday looked at you, something different in her eyes now—an unspoken understanding. She didn't argue this time.
Once back at Nevermore, the aftermath of the fight lingered in the air. The faculty and other students rushed to deal with the Hyde situation. Tyler may have been caught, but the existence of a second Hyde shook everyone.
In the infirmary, Wednesday sat quietly as a medic stitched up her side. You hovered nearby, refusing to leave her. She had taken a hit for you—something she would never openly admit was driven by care. Yet, there was no denying it. You could see it in her eyes, in the way she had thrown herself in harm's way.
After the medic left, the room fell into silence again. Wednesday looked up at you, her face still pale from the ordeal but her gaze as sharp as ever. "You should've left. I didn't need you getting hurt."
You shook your head. "You don't get it, do you? I wasn't going to let you fight that thing alone."
"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. For the first time, she sounded unsure. Vulnerable.
"Because I care about you," you said, the words heavy with emotion. "No matter how many times you push me away, no matter how many walls you put up, I still care. And that's not going to change."
Wednesday's expression shifted, her usual mask of indifference cracking just slightly. She looked away, her voice softer than before. "I don't deserve it. Any of it."
You stepped closer, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Maybe you don't think you do, but I still want to give it. I want to try again. But this time, we do it differently. No more pushing each other away. No more lies."
She looked at you then, her dark eyes searching yours. "I won't make promises I can't keep," she said, her voice careful. "But I'll try."
That was all you needed to hear.
Over the following days, things between you and Wednesday began to shift. She was still Wednesday—cold, sarcastic, and not the type to suddenly become affectionate. But there were subtle changes. She would sit with you at lunch, even if she pretended it was because she "needed a distraction." She would find excuses to be near you, even though she claimed it was because you "were less annoying than most people."
And sometimes, late at night, when she thought no one was watching, you'd catch her glancing your way, a fleeting softness in her gaze.
It wasn't a perfect second chance. Wednesday still had her thorns, and there were moments when she reverted to her distant self. But it was different now. You weren't afraid of getting hurt, and she wasn't afraid to let you in—at least, a little bit.
One evening, as you both sat in the darkened library, Wednesday quietly reading while you worked on an assignment, she spoke without looking up from her book.
"I saw you," she said suddenly.
You blinked, confused. "Saw me what?"
"That night," she clarified, still not looking at you. "When I kissed Tyler. I saw you watching."
Your heart skipped a beat at the memory. It still stung, even now. "Yeah. I remember."
"I didn't know what I was doing then," she admitted, her voice low. "I thought it was part of the plan. But when I saw the look on your face... I realized it wasn't just a case. I had hurt you. More than I should have."
You didn't say anything at first, letting her words sink in. This was as close to an apology as you'd get from Wednesday Addams.
"I hated you for it," you admitted softly. "But I hated myself more for still caring."
She finally looked at you then, her expression unreadable. "I won't kiss him again."
It was a strange way of promising something deeper—something more than just avoiding mistakes. But it was enough for now.
You nodded. "Good. Because I'd prefer you didn't."
There was a brief silence before she spoke again, her voice softer. "I've never had this before. I don't know how to handle it."
You gave her a small smile. "Neither do I. But we'll figure it out together. One step at a time."
And for the first time, Wednesday didn't have a sarcastic retort. She simply nodded, closing her book and resting her hand on the table between you—just close enough that, if you reached out, you could touch it.
You didn't yet, but the gesture was enough. For now.
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nxiispire · 2 years ago
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Hello hello!
Could I request a sub!kaeya, sub!diluc, sub!venti, and a sub!xiao (separately pls) with a gentle dom! reader who degrades them will in the verge of their release please? Have a good morning/day/evening/night!<3
|・ω・`)ノ a/n : super sorry for taking so long to do this request! also i’m vry excited someone asked for venti cause i haven’t written for him even though he is a fave of mine
✰ Don’t be mean .. !
[ Featuring ] -> Kaeya, Diluc, Venti and Xiao x Reader
cw : f1ngering, degradation, use of slut and wh0re, h*ndjobs, thigh job, after care, a tiny bit of fluff
Kaeya Alberich
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He whines
Pouts afterwards but both of you know that your degrading words only go straight to his c*ck
He’s a bit surprised to here such words come from you, a normally very gentle lover.
But he’s even more surprised at how much he enjoyed being called such dirty names.
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Kaeya doesn’t exactly know how he got here, bent over his office desk, drool staining unimportant documents, and your fingers inside him. But he couldn’t care less about what caused this turn of events, his only focus being the heat rising in his lower half.
Feeling him squeeze around your fingers, a sign that he was close, you lean down to press your chest flush against his back, your hot breath tickling his ear as you whispered.
“Squeezing me so tight yeah? such a slut, how’d you think master jean would feel if she knew her captain was such a whore?”
Letting out a high pitched whine while mumbling something about being your slut, he came all over the hard wood desk.
Let’s just say having to explain the missing documents was not apart of your regular after care routine.
Diluc Ragnvindr
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This man will straight up defend himself 😭😭
He would be like “i’ve been a good boy!” or “m’not a slut” while letting out the sluttiest moans
But despite the protest he quite enjoys the change in language
The poor man just needs some self preservation
“ n-no! v’been good, need to ah- need to cum~”
He begged as you teased him while on the verge of release. You could hear the wet sounds coming from your stroking his cock with vigour.
“hmm I don’t know, do you really deserve to cum?” You further egged him on, no real intention to deny his orgasm.
“yes yesyesyes-YESS” he answered for you, finally cumming all over you hand.
Despite cumming without your explicit permission, you still treated Diluc with tender love and care as he bathed in the aftmath of his orgasm.
“You were so good for me” you assured him he did in fact deserve every bit of your affection.
Venti
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For someone meant to be worshipped, he sure loves being talked down to
Though he loves your praise, it’s nothing he hasn’t heard already
So hearing you call him nasty names is  exciting, he wants nothing more than to be beneath you
Also there’s no way such a mischievous man doesn’t have a thing for degradation, he’s practically asking for it
He’s grabbing on to your hips insanely tight as he frantically thrust himself between your soft thighs. As he presses his face into your back you can feel the vibrations of all the moans he’s letting out.
His cock slides effortlessly between your thighs aided by a mixture of your spit, and a abnormal amount of pre-cum.
“ahh mhh yess i’m close~” you hear his muffled whines from behind you.
“your such dirty boy aren’t you? it’s almost pathetic, humping my thighs like this?”.
Though your words harsh, your tone remained soft and caring, which almost made it more patronising.
 Fueled on by your words he finally came, his cum mixing into the wet pool between your legs as he continues to thrust himself through his orgasm. <3
Xiao
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Unlike Diluc he accept anything you say
You called him a bad boy? he will make it up to you and beg for your forgiveness, You called him a slut? then he’s your whore
Why would he care about self preservation when you’re the only one he wants to please
It’s something about the control you assert when you degrade him that gets him going
The way he’s fucking up into your hand is mesmerising, his abs flexing as he desperately chases after his high
“Look how desperate you are, who knew that this mighty adepti was such a slut~”
“Aah yes, mm your slut~ shit- just f’you!” He babbled, getting closer and closer to his orgasm. You weren’t even moving your hand at this point, you simply kept it still as he bucked up into it, producing a lewd squelching noise.
He let out one last loud moan as he came, his cum landing on his chest and dribbling down your hand.
After riding his high the adeptus did something he hadn’t done in a very long time, falling straight to sleep.
Once you finished admiring his adorable fucked out form, you make sure to grab a warm towel to clean up, loving being able to take care of him without any of his protests.
the end _(:3 」∠)_
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aphroditelovesu · 10 months ago
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Can you pls write a Reyna fic? It doesn’t have to be big, just headcannon on what she’s like as a yandere pls😭
"I will always protect you." — Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.
❝ 🐶 — lady l: Of course, anon! I confess that I had doubts about her personality, but I think I managed to represent her. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, manipulation, guilty trap, Reyna puts the Reader in dangerous situations, toxic relationships.
❝🐶pairing: yandere!reyna avila ramírez-arellano x gender neutral!reader.
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Reyna is strong and fearless, a competent and protective leader. She doesn't mind sacrificing herself to help others, to protect those she loves and the defenseless. Her qualities made her who she is, as did her life story. Reyna always knew who she was, or did, until the day you came into her life.
You not only became an important part of her but also an obligation, something she should protect and care for. Reyna was a praetor, she needed to take care of you. She saw you as someone who was defenseless and needed to be protected. Even if you don't need protection, she won't listen. She will take care of you.
She is determined to be someone you can trust with everything. Reyna will make sure you know that she's always there for you, whether it's for a shoulder to lean on or to do something stupid, she's always going to have your back.
Reyna is an exceptionally dedicated leader, and her determination to protect and care for you is evident in every action she takes. Her strength and fearlessness are admirable characteristics, but what captivates her most is the way she balances her firmness with genuine kindness and concern. Although she may have dark feelings for you, she will always put you before her selfish desires.
She is selfless and you will always be her priority. If you two get hurt, she will make sure you are treated first. Always by your side with a helping hand, you found yourself absorbed by Reyna's care, who never really paid attention to her true feelings.
She is extremely overprotective and sometimes she will send one of her dogs with you, just to make sure you are okay. She doesn't deal well with you going on quests or leaving her line of sight in general and Reyna tends to get anxious and nervous when this happens.
If something happens to you, may the gods be good. Reyna knows she will go crazy, just the thought of losing you sends her into a frenzy of worry, fear and anger. You couldn't be taken away from her. She took such good care of you, so why shouldn't you belong to her? Reyna will deal with anyone who dares to hurt you in any way she sees fit. No one can even think about hurting you.
Reyna isn't exactly possessive but she doesn't like the idea of ​​you being with other people. She can tolerate certain people, like some friends and family, but if she notices that they are taking up all of your time and attention, she will have to do something about it. Generally, she can make you feel guilty for neglecting it. Isn't she your friend? Is she not that important to you?
Being a protector, Reyna likes to have control over you. She can put you in potentially dangerous situations just so she can be your savior. She knows this isn't right, but you won't get hurt, so it's okay. And any guilt she may feel will disappear the moment you hug her.
Reyna is extremely intelligent and strategic, she knows how to put you where she wants you to be. A born manipulator, you will hardly notice her true intentions when she is by your side. She really cares about you and wants you to be happy, but Reyna can't allow that happiness not to be with her. She needs you and she will make sure you need her.
She is firm and if necessary she will discipline you in her own way, a military way. Reyna in no way wants to inflict pain or harm on you, but if harsh punishment is necessary for that, then so be it. Plus, she'll make sure it's just a one-time thing.
Reyna Arellano is an exceptionally dedicated leader, whose determination to protect and care goes beyond what would be expected. Despite her qualities, her relationship with you has become a priority in her life, leading her to take extreme measures to ensure your safety and happiness. Still, Reyna's true essence lies in her genuine desire to protect and care, even if it means facing her own feelings and limitations. Your presence is an anchor in her life.
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ode2rin · 2 years ago
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all of you, all of me intertwined
pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader
genre. fluff | pro-athlete!rin | established relationship | light angst (it’s light, trust me) | a bit of hurt/comfort
warnings. 1.4k+ wc | characters are aged up ! | heavy in narration | profanity | pet names
note. i laughed a lil bit too much reading abt rin’s morning routine but then became completely sappy at the thought of it changing as he found love ;) | not proofread pls forgive me  | it’s inspired from another ts song i owe her my life i’m sorry 
in which: rin finds solace in the present with you, as the memories of his past mornings gradually fade away
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itoshi rin, a man of routine, is always up before you, like clockwork.
perhaps it's the athlete in him, or perhaps it's because you slumber like a log. regardless, he never moves an inch after waking up. he remains still, holding you so close, taking in the sight of your peaceful form beside him.
gone are the days when he would rush to the window to let in fresh air or head straight to his closet for his yoga routine. gone are the days that he would relive all the rage and hatred that sits freely in his heart. and, gone are the days of being consumed by the darkness that once plagued his mind.
now, his first thoughts are of you. he revels in the warmth of your skin and the gentle rise and fall of your chest, basking in the tranquil moment of your shared existence.
it's moments like these that make rin marvel at the divine forces that must have sent you in his way. because frankly speaking, he believes that he didn’t deserve you at all. not with his snarky and prideful demeanor did he deserve any of the bright smiles you threw at his direction. rin is not a believer in fate, but sometimes he can't help but think that the universe must be conspiring against him. 
after all, how else can he explain the intensity of his love for you? he loves you so much that sometimes it physically hurts.
it physically hurts to be away from you, it aches to not hold you so close, it cuts not to hear your laughter at the end of a tiring practice. and maybe he’s being dramatic, but can you blame him? 
he loves you so damn much that it scares him. rin knows, in his heart, that if he fails to protect the life you share, he'll never be able to recover from it. the universe be damned because there is no way in fucking hell would he be able to wake up and breathe the same way again. he’ll not only revisit rage and sadness but live every single day of his life revisiting moments with you. he'll be haunted not just by anger, but by every memory of you. 
your love scares him to that extent, and yet he chooses to live with this fear rather than live a life that there is no you. a life where he doesn’t wake up beside you sounds so much scarier than being benched at a game, more terrifying than all the horror movies he's seen combined.
this same fear was even louder in the beginning of your relationship. that, he admits. so loud that it spoke to you in the form of harsh words coming from rin’s lips. he threw so many lines of poison made in sadness and insecurity mistakenly draped in anger.  the rin you first met was just twenty-one, young and full of anger. or was it really anger? maybe he thought so. or maybe he couldn't admit that it was betrayal and sadness. maybe he chose anger to mask his sadness, and somewhere in between, he forgot the difference.
at sixteen, rin started living a life grounded with rage and vengeance. stopping at nothing to prove himself better than his brother. at twenty-four, he can't help but wonder how a life driven by hatred and ego brought him to this safe haven, this sanctuary in your loving arms. perhaps it took that much rage to find this serenity.
he wouldn't change a single thing that led him to you, but if there's one regret, it's that he didn't let himself to love you sooner. he wishes he let himself bask in the radiance of your eyes more willingly. 
because the younger rin deserved just as much as what he’s having right now.
as you slept soundly, rin found himself lost in thought, reflecting on the past and the many mistakes he had made. feeling a bit nostalgic, he leaned more into you and held your jaw to trail kisses on your face. as his lips touched your skin, you stirred in your sleep and opened your eyes to see your teal-eyed lover gazing at you dreamily. you couldn't help but tease him at how uncharacteristic he’s looking at you right now.
“is this your new way of waking me up?” you asked, a playful smile on your face. sleep still evident in your hoarse voice.
rin looked a bit shy at being caught, but he replied with a chuckle, “no, of course not.”
you knew he was lying, though. rin was a man of routine, and he always left kisses in your face in the morning, like clockwork. you decided to let him keep his secret, though, and snuggled up closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“why are you still in bed, baby? what happened to yoga and keeping your body healthy and all that?” you asked with a grin, knowing how much rin prided himself on his health and fitness.
“is this your new way of making me leave?” rin countered, mimicking the playful tone you used at him.
you looked up to meet his eyes, “it’s too early to be this sassy, rinnie,” you playfully booped his nose which earned you a scoff from him, “besides, don’t you have practice today? you’ll be late.”
rin didn't say anything in response, but instead, he reached out to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. you felt his body mold to yours, as he intertwined his legs with yours and draped all of his weight on you. you let out a contented sigh as you leaned back into his embrace.
you could feel rin's warm breath as he hid his face in your neck, and his chest rising and falling with each breath. the softness of his skin against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the steady beat of his heart were all consuming your senses. 
something is wrong.
rin clinging to you like this no longer surprises you because, much to his chagrin, rin is a closeted clingy lover and enjoys being held. but the tightness of his hold, and the rather slow beat of his heart is telling you that there’s something wrong.
slowly, you placed your hand on the nape of his neck and began to stroke his hair in a soothing motion. you could feel his body relax slightly under your touch, but there was still an underlying sense of unease.
“what’s on your mind, baby?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
rin hesitated for a moment before answering, “i was thinking of skipping practice today.”
“why? are you feeling unwell, rin?”
“no. i just miss you.” he says, his voice becoming softer at the end.
you felt your heart swell with his response. “i’m here, rin,” you reassured him, wanting him to feel the depth of your presence.
“i know,” rin paused, “you’re here.” he continued, sounding more like he was convincing himself rather than responding to you. 
as you looked at rin, you couldn't help but feel that there was something he wasn't telling you. you knew that rin was someone who valued his routine and getting ready for practice, so his behavior was unusual. you wondered if something had happened to shake him out of his usual rhythm. you pushed aside your thoughts, knowing that rin would tell you in his own time.
for now, you just have to hold him through it. “alright, baby. what do you want to do?” you asked.
rin's response was simple. “nothing, just want to be close to you,” he said, his gaze locking with yours.
a smile played on your lips. “not a problem for me,” you replied, pulling him close and cherishing the moment of closeness between the two of you. almost instantly, rin felt his body relax under your touch, as if all his troubles had melted away.
itoshi rin was definitely a man of routine, but forgoing his morning routine he would, if it meant more mornings like this, with his body and soul intertwined with yours.
because with you, gone were the days when he would stare out the window with a haunted look in his eyes, lost in his own thoughts. gone were the days when his mind was consumed by a vortex of rage and sadness. and gone were the days when he spent his mornings shrouded in darkness.
now, rin had found a new routine, one that revolved around you and the love you shared. and as you held him, he knew that this routine would last a lifetime. 
for as long as he could remember, rin felt his mornings become brighter with you by his side, like the first light of day after a long dark night. because with you, everything seems brighter, like daylight.
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another note. this is super self-indulgent btw hehe i was having an awful week and just wrote this on top of the uni work whooping my ass. anw all is good ! i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did love writing this, i actually think i got a lil bit carried away... def not my best but oh well live love laugh rinnie lovers !!
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mediocrecowboyhat · 23 days ago
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Set in sand - Chapter 1
We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.
With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?
Next chapter
Word count: 3543
Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!
TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)
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With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?
The harsh cold cuts through your many thick layers of clothing and your limbs gradually grow number by the minute. Pain shoots through your fingers everytime you move them just to make sure they're still working. The last thing you want is to loose any body parts to hypothermia this early on in your journey.
One foot at the time. Come on.
As you stumble through the knee-high snow and fight your way through the merciless storm, you silently curse yourself out. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved in this.
-
"Arthur Morgan? That name rings a bell, actually.", Francis mumbles under his breath as his eyes trail over the words of the journal you had handed to him earlier.
The book is in poor condition with most of the pages missing and the ones that are still attached, are barely readable. Only a few passages are intact, but it's enough to let you roughly know what happened to the author.
"I thought you might have maybe heard of him during your travels.", you answer with a hopeful tone. Your eyes stare expectantly at the red head as you wait for him to finish reading.
The author wrote the journal around the end of the 1800s which is the same time Francis likes to visit every now and then.
"I think I remember now!", he exclaims with raised eyebrows and you jump up from the chair you're sitting on.
"You do? Can you...help me out then?"
-
You have no idea why the story of Arthur Morgan had moved you so much. His life and the way he put it into words had shaken you to your core.
A shuddering sigh escapes your lips and even through the scarf that covers half of your face, you're able to see the cloud of air.
-
"You want to safe him? Why?", Francis asks and his tone is laced with utter disbelief. Yes, he met the man during one of his travels and even though Arthur didn't know him at all, he still had helped find all the rock carvings.
"The way things went and the way they ended for him...it doesn't feel right.", you explain with furrowed brows.
"It's dangerous. Yes, the country started to enforce the law more seriously during that time, but there were still so many gangs, robberies and shootings. I can't even begin to count all the things that could go wrong on your journey."
Francis' gaze is serious and stern. He's making his disapproval of your idea more than clear, but you're not willing to give up on your plan. Not yet.
"Nothing will go wrong if you help me prepare.", you answer and take both of his hands in yours to give them a reassuring squeeze.
His expression is unmoving, but his eyes betray the crumbling resistance within him. He's only a couple more arguments away of giving in.
-
The memory makes you chuckle. It's a low and bitter sound. Indeed, he had helped you get prepared for your adventure. Your leather bag is stuffed with canned food, some clothes and other equipment that might come in handy.
All the shirts, skirts and pants fit the style of the 1890s to make it easier for you to blend in. Francis had even been so kind to give you a quick history lesson that covered all the basics.
-
The cattleman revolver feels unfamiliar and heavy in your hands as you study the weapon more closely.
"Do you know how to shoot?", Francis asks and crosses his arms infront of his chest as he leans against the edge of the table.
The closest you have ever come to working a gun was reading about it in Arthur's journal, but admitting that might make Francis change his mind about the whole thing.
"Of course.", you lie with full confidence and slide the revolver back into the holster.
-
In the beginning you were a bit disturbed by the sight of the weapon attached to your belt. Feeling the weight of it now and the way it sometimes brushes over your thigh...it brings you some comfort. Comfort, knowing that you have the means to protect and defend yourself.
If only you have been aware over how soon you'd have to use that thing.
-
"There is an abandoned settlement called Colter nearby.", Francis explains and points at a spot on the map that is spread out over the table. "They will be hiding there after that whole ordeal in Blackwater."
This would be your chance to join the gang and get close to everyone. The mere thought of actually meeting these people fills you with both excitement and anxiety. You don't know any of them and it makes you wonder how they'll react to you.
"The winter was particularly bad that year so make sure to move quick and don't get lost.", he says, ripping you out of your thoughts.
"Don't worry."
-
Yes. Don't worry, I said. It will be fine, I said.
Nothing could have prepared you for the pack of wolves that had shown up right after you traveled back in time. Not a single bullet had hit its mark, but the ear piercing noise from the shots had driven them away.
Everytime you recall that encounter in your mind, the beat of your heart picks up frantically and you hear your blood rushing in your ears. The experience had scarred you for sure.
Finally, the snowstorm seems to calm down and your vision clears up again. As you blink the remaining snowflakes away, you spot smoke in the distance. Could that be the settlement?
Without a second thought you pick up your pace and quickly make your way towards the dark pillar of smoke. It's further away than you had anticipated, but after a while you arrive at the place just to be met with...well, no one.
The fire has died down and there is not a single soul to be seen in the area. You notice that the wood is still slightly warm though so whoever had camped here left only recently.
Your eyes wander around, trying to find a sign, anything that could indicate where that person might have gone to. There is only one set of footprints in the snow, accompanied with prints that look like hooves.
It could be someone from the gang who is out hunting at the moment. It's also possible that they went back to the others so maybe these tracks could lead you right to their hideout.
With a new found hope you quickly follow the tracks. Even if it isn't anyone from the gang, that person you're searching for could still give you shelter or food. Any type of help is welcome, really. You're in no position to be picky at the moment.
The tracks lead up a mountain and you see something dark laying on the ground. A pit forms in your stomach as you approach it and recognize what it is.
The sight infront of you is revolting and you fight back a gag. A horse is laying spread out in the snow with its stomach shredded to pieces and the insides hanging out. A foul stench penetrates your nose and you abruptly turn away.
Whatever happened here, it hadn't ended well. Weirdly enough, the horse is the only dead body here though. There is no sign of the owner and you stumble upon more footprints.
It must be the same person from the makeshift camp, by the looks of it. At least the size and shape of the boots are similar. You keep following them and swallow a lump in your throat when your eyes fall on blood. It seems like the person got hurt as well by whatever attacked the horse.
Could it have been wolves? Perhaps even the same ones that wanted to make a meal out of you? You banish the thought before it could make you panic. Now is not the time to contemplate about your near-death encounter.
Someone obviously needs help and that is the whole reason why you're here in the first place. Just because the person in need of help isn't the one who you're actually here for, doesn't mean you should abandon them.
The footprints lead around the mountain and with lots of huffing and panting, you climb over rocks and duck under them. It's exhausting your body more than anything you had ever done before and your muscles grow heavy.
"Hello?", you yell out into the vast nothingness and calm your breathing to be able to focus on listening for a response. Nothing.
You give it another try, but again nothing happens. Frustration boils up inside your chest and you mutter a few curses to yourself.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Now you're not only extremely tired and worn out from this unnecessary hike, you're also way off the trail that leads towards Colter and who knows if you will even be able to find your way back.
Sure, you could easily follow your own footprints, but by the way your luck has been the past few days, another snowstorm will most likely ruin that plan. Unless the thing that killed the horse earlier comes back to put you out of your misery as well.
Perhaps Francis was right. Perhaps you were being stupid and naive to think that you could possibly travel back in time to-
"Help!"
There it is. A voice. A person! You bite back a relieved sob and take a deep breath to answer the call.
"I'm over here!", the other person answers and you jog towards the source of the voice.
As you peek over the edge of a wall, you're being met with a pair of glassy, grey eyes. A man with long black hair and messy clothes, is sitting in the snow and looks up to you.
"I didn't think I'd meet anyone out here.", he jokes with a raspy voice and you climb down the wall to kneel next to him.
His face is covered in blood and there are deep wounds on his right cheek. It looks like claw marks.
"What happened?", you ask breathlessly as you hurry to open your bag.
"Wolves. A whole pack of 'em." His answer comes out more as a grunt than anything and it's obvious that talking alone brings him too much pain.
You fish out an alcohol bottle and pour some of the content onto your handkerchief. Gently, you dab the cloth on his wounds to disinfect them and he let's out a harsh hiss.
"I'm sorry.", you mumble apologetically, but he simply waves it off. He knows you're only trying to help.
None of you are saying anything while you tend to his wounds and your mind is racing with thoughts and questions. What will you do now? The man doesn't look like he can stand up and you don't have the means to carry him down this mountain.
But even just considering the option of leaving him here to the elements makes you feel a tang of guilt in your chest. Leaving him alone means leaving him to die and you don't know if you can live with that.
"Do you think you can get up? I can't carry you, but if you lean on me we could make it down this mountain.", you suggest and the man opens his mouth to answer you.
Before he can even bring out a word, a gunshot cuts through the air and you let out a startled noise. Another person? This is starting to become quite a party.
Yelling can be heard from a distance. A man. No, it's two.
"Marston!", one of them screams from the top of his lungs and the bleeding stranger infront of you responds almost immediately.
It doesn't take long for the others to find you and you stand up from your spot. The two men are standing on the edge of the wall and one of them jumps down. The next moment you find yourself at the end of a gun.
You lift your hands and take a careful step back while your eyes are fixed on the weapon pointed right at your face.
"Who are you?", asks the man. He's wearing a thick blue coat and a worn cowboy hat with a few bullet holes in it.
"Put the gun down. She found me here and helped.", answered the injured guy and for what feels like eternity the man finally lowers the gun.
You allow yourself to let out a relieved breath as he turns away to face the one still sitting on the ground.
"You look even uglier than before, Marston.", he says to the injured stranger and something clicks inside your brain.
Marston? John Marston?
While your mind pieces all the clues together, the man who is still on the wall reaches out his hand towards you. A friendly smile graces his lips and you return it before taking his hand and letting him help you climb back up.
"You guys are lucky that we found you.", he says and you nod. He's right. Even with your plan to have John lean on you while you walk back, there is no guarantee that it would have actually worked.
You're pretty sure that you would have probably slipped and fallen to your certain death. A few moments later John and the other guy are on top as well.
"Arthur, carry him on your shoulder while we go back to our horses.", the man who helped you up the wall said and your eyes fall on one with the blue coat.
Is this Arthur Morgan?
You lock eyes with him after he throws John over his shoulder and he gives you a confused look.
"What are you starin' at?", he grunts.
Embarrassed, you cough into your fist and let out a flustered chuckle.
"I'm so sorry, sir. It's just that you remind me of someone, is all.", you hastily explain and turn away to prevent any more awkwardness.
What a great first impression you're leaving. As you all make your way back to the horses, the three men introduce themselves to you and you give them your name as well.
"What are you doing out here by yourself?", Javier asks and throws you a curious look over his shoulder.
"I had to leave my home. We...we got robbed and lost the house.", you answer. It's a lie that you and Francis have come up with.
If anyone asks you'd tell them that a gang robbed your home and burned down the house. No one can check your background if you tell them there is nothing left to check. At least that's what you're hoping for.
"You said 'we'. Is anyone else out here?", Arthur asks and shoots you a quick look.
"No. I'm alone now.", you answer which is not really a lie. You are alone indeed.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."
Before you're able to thank him, Javier points at something in the distance.
"Guys, I think we got company."
A small group of wolves appear on the hill a few meters away from you guys and your heart sinks. The gunshot and all the yelling must have caught their attention or maybe it's the smell of John's blood.
Arthur hands him over to Javier and pulls out a shotgun as he walks towards the wild animals.
"I'll distract 'em. You guys go to the horses.", he yells over his shoulder and you and Javier start running.
A few shots are being fired behind you, but you don't dare to look back. Your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and adrenaline rushes through your veins. It's the only reason why you're able to move this fast.
Javier mounts his horse together with John and you climb onto the back of the one you assume must be Arthur's. Just as you turn your head to see where the said man is, he's already by your side and jumps into the saddle.
Without another word, the two horses start sprinting. The sudden acceleration startles you and instinctively your arms shoot forward to wrap around Arthur's torso. Then you notice something in the corner of your eye.
"We got more coming from the right!", you let the others know and grab the cattleman from your holster.
Thankfully, Arthur proves himself to be more than competent with his own gun and takes out the entire pack in a matter of seconds without you having to help out. At least that's what it looked like at first.
Another wolf jumps out from between trees right at the both of you and you extend your arm to fire a shot. It hits. For the first time you have actually hit something.
The rest of the ride goes by quietly with no deadly surprises. So far it's all going to plan (besides the fact that you almost got your face bitten off that is) and with a little luck and persuasion on your part they might even let you stay with them.
Once you reach the settlement, you slide off the back of Arthur's Tennessee Walker and take a step to the side when a large group of people start pouring out from the run down houses.
But the person who catches your attention the most is a man wearing a black coat and a red scarf. It's not his outfit that draws your gaze towards his direction, but more the energy he gives off. There is something about him that makes you feel like you have to be on your toes.
Maybe it's the authority that radiates off of him like the heat of a house on fire or maybe it's something else. Obviously, he's the leader of this group with the way he's barking orders. They don't seem to fear him though.
Then his eyes fall on you and he takes your whole appearance in. You recall a name from the journal as he approaches you with an extended hand and you shake it firmly.
"Dutch Van Der Linde. Arthur told me that you helped them with John."
You only manage a nod.
"Thank you, miss. I appreciate that you went out of your way to help one of my men. Come on, let's head inside so we can talk.", he adds and leads you towards one of the cabins
There is a fire burning inside, but with all the holes in the roof and walls it does barely anything to keep the cold away. Dutch motions towards one of the chairs next to the fireplace and takes a seat infront of you.
Arthur's blue coat appears in the corner of your eye as he closes the creaking door and leans against it with his arms closed. Yes, Dutch said it would be a casual talk, but now it feels more like an interrogation.
Quietly you fold your gloved hands on your lap and wait for Dutch to say the first word. You plan on telling him only the most necessary stuff and would rather avoid getting tangled up in your web of lies.
"So, Arthur tells me you lost your home?"
You avoid his piercing gaze and look down at your lap.
"I did, sir."
On the side of your vision, you see him nod to himself.
"I'm so sorry to hear that. Now, miss..."
Your head snaps up to look at him as he bends forward to get a better look at your face.
"This is a harsh winter and I'd feel bad sending you out in this cold all by yourself, so if you want, you can stay with us."
His offer makes you nod hastily and you try to mask your excitement. There is no need to make them suspicious with your eagerness. No person with a clear mind would be this happy to stay with a bunch of outlaws and you have to play the part.
"We may not be good people, but we care for one another. As long as you pull your weight, we will happily welcome you."
With these words you place your bag on the floor and open it up to reveal the canned food you have been traveling with.
"I got some food on me. Agreed, it's not a lot, but it's all I have."
A pleased look spreads over Dutch's face and he nod.
"It's greatly appreciated. Go find Mr. Pearson and give these to him.", he says and you throw your bag back over your shoulder after getting back on your feet.
Once you close the door behind you, you overhear Arthur say something.
"Are you sure about this, Dutch? It's another mouth to feed."
You hold your breath so you have an easier time listening in on them. Of course, he's right to be concerned about you becoming a member. By the sound and look of it, they're struggling to keep everyone fed.
"We have been through worse.", Dutch answers and a wave of relief washes over you. It's good to know that you won't get kicked out on the first day.
So where is this Mr. Pearson?
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appleinyoureye · 2 years ago
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JJBA │ Forbidden Fruit Tastes the Sweetest
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Summary: Your parents forbid you from seeing your boyfriend, but who are you if not a rule-breaker. So you sneak out to see him.
Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure
Characters: Leone Abbacchio, Bruno Bucciarati, Pannacotta Fugo, Giorno Giovanna, Guido Mista, Ghirga Narancia
Word Count: 545
Type: headcanons
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Abbacchio
Leone is very grateful. He may not show it the best but you’re a very important person in his life, a glimpse of normalcy in this crazy place Bucciarati’s gang become. He doesn’t question your decision to stay with him until the very last second of your illegal meeting. He then nervously whispers a short are you sure? as he hugs you, and after your affirmation, Abba doesn’t need any more words.
Bruno
Bruno is really happy, but the fact that he will be able to see you is not the main factor. He feels joy because you decided to choose for yourself, to screw your parents’ commands, and to do what you feel your heart wants to do. He fully supports your decision, even though he understands where your parents come from. After all, their kid dates someone from the mafia. But it’s your life, not theirs, plus he really loves you, so he doesn’t even think about questioning it.
Fugo
Heck yeah! Screw your parents! For the past week he has been angrier than usual, not being able to see you, waiting for a word from you after your parents locked you up in the house. It was ridiculous! All these pent up emotions makes him tear up a bit. Not a lot, and when he notices that you see the difference in how glossy his eyes become, he hugs you tightly, nose buried in the crook of your neck. You’re his oasis, and he has to calm himself now that you are right by him, not going anywhere.
Giorno
I’m not sure why but I feel like Giorno would be the only one to question your decision from the start. I mean, yeah, he loves you, he wants to be with you, but because of this, he agrees with your parents. Someone like you shouldn’t be connected in any way with the mafia, in particular be in a relationship with the head of it. He wants everything and more for you, and when you tell him that you’ve made up your mind, and he hears the confidence, the firmness your voice holds, he shuts completely up, a voice that acts against his common sense, celebrating that he isn’t losing you. 
Mista
Of course he celebrates! Picks you up, twirls around and peppers whole face in kisses. He doesn’t like your parents just like he doesn’t like stupid people that they definitely are. Who do they think they are to tell you who to date or not??? Mista even suggests that you move in with him, because this way you wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking out. He pouts a bit when you decline, and even tries to jokingly bribe you with marriage, but he knows when to stop. He's just happy that you’re choosing to stay with him.
Narancia
He feels that you’re pranking him. And after you try to reassure him that no, it is not a stupid joke, he thinks that it’s a trap that your parents set for him. Only after five minutes or so, he believes you. And when he does, oh boi, the scream he scrumpts. SCREW YOUR PARENTS! Hell yeah! He even suggests that he can pay them a little visit, and you need to calm him down if you don’t want to become parentless. 
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a/n: hey! first writing posted on this account lol. pls don't be too harsh as english is not my first language! also, forgive me if i made the bois not so in the character. it's been a year since i finished watching the 5th part
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fawnprincessblog · 3 months ago
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(pls don't read this with an aggressive or judgmental tone whatsoever this is simply out of curiosity no malicious intent!!)
I wanted to ask why you even wrote about the cousins thing? And when you addressed the whole thing in your last post, why didn't you say anything about it except excusing it with "I didn't think it would gain sm attention" n stuff like that..? Again I'm just asking
bambi's big apology and explanation!
Hey love, thanks for asking and not being so harsh about it, ily 💗
So, to answer the question finally, i really don't know why i wrote it. I mean, i guess i was just having a little fantasy between me and myself, and it kind of just got out of hand, and i thought sharing it was a good idea. But really, I do realise how horrible and disgusting it sounded, suggesting that relationships between cousins, particularly in a sexual context, were acceptable, and I now fully recognize that this was inappropriate, hurtful, and completely misguided.
At the time, I didn’t fully consider the impact of my words, and I’m deeply sorry to anyone who was uncomfortable. I realized that these kinds of statements can perpetuate harmful ideas and cause real issues, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I do know that sexual fantasies really can get to a point, and some of it is really not okay.
During my hiatus I’ve taken time to reflect, educate myself, and listen to the feedback I’ve received. I want to make it clear that I do not stand by what I said, and I know it was wrong. I am committed to learning from this experience and doing better moving forward.
Again, I am truly sorry and I hope you guys can forgive me. 💗
reblogs appreciated 💗💗
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