#and i had to run around collecting more animals

[midnight-mourning]

Build-A-Bot (With Lots of Love)

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 5💘💘

Ohhh i had a lot of fun with this one hehe, silly shennaigans but also, a bit of fluffy sweetness, perfect for a build a bear aslkdjflkasjdfl, hope you like it!

Prompt: Y/n takes Sun and Moon out to someplace like build-a-bear (or a fnaf brand adjacent lol) to make each other lovely valentines day plushies! Sweet audios, noise makers, fun plushie outfits, and of course hearts! Maybe a sweet confession in the mix too hehe <3

Word Count: 2467

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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"Sunshine, I mean this with the best of intent, but why are we here on our day off?"

You turn to him as you walk. "What do you mean? What's wrong with the mall?"

"What Sun is trying to say is that we work at a mall, Star. Spending the day at another one seems, impractical confusing even."

You stop walking then, realizing that that's indeed the case as you're surrounded by shops and a food court, people flitting about and chattering. 

"Oh. Right. Well, it's because there's somewhere specific in here that I wanted to take you both!" You start to move again, pulling them both along by their hands. 

The mall is busy, though given it's Valentine's day, it's not surprising. Other patrons mingle about, families and couples alike. 

The entire interior is decorated for the holiday, red and pink streamers hang from the ceiling, hearts across every possible surface. It would almost be suffocating if you weren't someone who desired to be in love yourself. Instead, you're able to enjoy the festivities to—almost—full capacity. 

You finally make it to the store you were looking for. Children can be seen running around inside and coming in and out, stuffed animals in their arms. Even a few couples meander about, which is what you were secretly hoping for. If you'd been the only ones in there you'd be slightly more embarrassed about taking them here. 

But, regardless of your feelings, that wouldn't have stopped you. You'd been wanting to come here with the two of them for a while now. You knew how many plushies and the likes Sun and Moon had in their room in the Daycare, ones they unfortunately couldn't bring with them when they moved into your home. 

Stupid fazbear entertainment rules and such. The animatronics could leave, but all their belongings had to stay. It made no sense to you, personally. But rules were rules. Their collection at the Daycare was massive, and you think deep down they missed it in comparison to your space at home. Someone else might think it was far too many, but for you, you knew it was a comfort, and it upset you that you couldn't provide that for them. 

Not at first, at least. 

Thus, your plan to gain them a collection just as impressive—but now in your home—was put into place. Starting with here. You think a stuffed animal they could chose and 'make' for themselves, would help with the loss until you could purchase them more. Not to mention, you wanted to make one for them yourself. 

You'd been struggling with your feelings towards the two for some time now, and living together hadn't helped matters. The brief moments in the hall, the small touches here and there. The quiet evenings spent together in a manner that you couldn't have otherwise gotten when they were still in the Plex. 

You couldn't help it, not realizing just how much you cared for them until it was put in front of you in such a manner. You wanted more than anything to tell them, to let them know that they were more than just friends to you. But you relented. You had to, you felt. 

While they had gotten some freedom, getting to live with you, it came at a price, and they were still adjusting. So, you'd held your tongue. Kept your feelings to yourself, it was for the best. Waiting until the moment was right. 

And now, after a couple months, you think it was time. To try, at least. You could never get a read on whether they felt the same for you or not. Always overthinking every little interaction. But with this, you'd find out for sure, and finally have the ache in your heart quelled.

One way or another. 

You enter the store with them, ready to get right to it, only to halt when you realize you spy a shelf full of Bonnie plushies staring back at you. And Chica, and Roxy. You quickly realize that this isn't your typical build-a-bear. Or at least, it's changed a lot in the past several years since you've been in one. 

"What, is this place?" Sun asks, glancing around. 

Moon picks up one of the Freddy plushes laying in a bin nearby, chuckling. "You brought us somewhere that would remind us of the Daycare? How... kind, Starlight."

You groan internally, this is not what you wanted to happen at all. 

"Um, not, quite... I wasn't expecting there to be, so much,"—you glance around to the sheer amount of Pizza Plex merch—"Of it to be here. Honestly. This wasn't like it when I came here as a kid." 

You shake your head, turning to them and clapping your hands. "But! That's okay. We can still have fun. I'm sure there's got to be some non-work related plushes in here. So let's get to it."

You explain how this is supposed to work, taking them around the store to show them all their options for plushies, clothes and accessories, and so on. They take a particular interest when you stop at the voice boxes and explain that they can use a pre-recorded one or record their own sound if they'd like. 

There's some non-Plex related animals you find, to your relief. You let the boys go off on their own, deciding to focus on the task at hand. You want this to be perfect, as perfect as it can be at least. 

You start with your choice of animals for them both. For Sun, you found a golden lab, and Moon, one of the last raccoons, stuffed away near the back of the shelf. Fitting for both of them. After that, came finding the proper accessories. You chose a red bowtie for the lab, and the racoon, a black top hat. Though, you struggled for it, you will admit. 

There was only a singular top hat left. Resting in the middle of a bin, standing out amongst the others lying there. 

Your eyes locked onto it, but become acutely aware that you're being watched. You glance up, locking eyes with someone across the floor from you. Specifically, a child. She couldn't be more than 10 years old. Her eyes shift, and you notice the tuxedo cat in her arms. 

You were not going to lose this one. 

At the same time, you both lunge towards the bin. You grip the small hat with both hands, lifting it up. Unfortunately, you find that there's a—surprisingly—strong force pulling back against you. Looking down, you see that the girl is gripping the hat just as tightly as you are. 

You tug again, but she holds firm, mouth set in a scowl you didn't think possible for a child. 

"Excuse me, I'd like this please." You say, trying to be gentle.

She huffs, sneering. "Too bad. I had it first."

"No, I think I did. Look, how about I help you find another—"

"No!" She interrupts. "It's mine. You can't have it!"

You sigh, you really don't want to fight a child, you really don't want to fight a child—

She takes one hand off and digs her nails in your arm, scratching you as you hiss. 

Okay, that's it. 

You rip the hat from her hands, stepping back and clutching your now stinging arm. Thankfully, it's not a deep set of scratches, but damn if it doesn't sting. The child starts bawling, now sitting on the floor, her mother coming over with a look of confusion and slight anger. 

Before she can say anything you just raise your arm, showing what her daughter did, and walk off as she starts to scold the girl. 

From there, it's not too much trouble to gather the remaining few things to complete your presents. You find the perfect little hearts, hesitating for a moment, but pressing a quick kiss to the yellow and blue hearts before inserting them into the plushies. You hope no one saw that as you make your final decision; whether or not to use a pre-recorded message. 

After several moments of heavily debating, you decide that if you're going to commit to this, you're going all the way. 

It takes a few, awkward tries, but you finally get a recording that you're happy with for both stuffed animals. 

 Satisfied, you decide to go find Sun and Moon.

When you turn around and look for them, it only takes you a few mere moments, as they make it quite obvious where they are. 

You're, a bit shocked to see the two of them, arguing over by one of the counters. Not unsimilar to your own experience earlier, the two of them are fighting over something, you can't see what from here. 

The people around them seem unsure what to do, either ignoring the argument or just watching from afar. 

You realize you have no choice but to intervene, lest it escalates and you get kicked out. You hurry over, breaking the two apart. 

Your gaze flits between them, confusion in your eyes. "Guys, guys, what's going on?"

"Somebody is trying to take something that doesn't belong to them." Sun scoffs, crossing his arms. 

Moon tsks. "Not yours. Haven't bought it. Therefore, it's up for grabs."

They start bickering once more and you have to step in again. "Okay, okay. Why don't we take a moment here." You turn to Sun. "What's the thing that's the source of trouble here?"

They both choke up at that, avoiding your gaze. 

"It's—"

"—nothing."

You open your mouth, only for someone to slap their hand down on the counter. You jump, turning to see a frazzled employee.

"There. We had one more in the back. Now please, I don't want to have to ask you to leave."

They move away then, revealing a small heart that happens to be your favorite color. Your eyebrows shoot up. And sneaking a peek at Sun's hand, still held high above his head, there's another that is also that same color. 

Before you can think, Moon scoops up the heart, and hurries off, Sun following suit soon after. 

You, don't know what to think of that, but your face is burning now. 

You're finished up well before them, so you wait outside the store for them, fidgeting with the two stuffies in your arms. You accidentally squeeze one too hard, your own voice suddenly erupting from it and startling you. 

As you calm down again, you look up in time to see them walking towards you, a bag in each of their hands. They seem, nervous as they approach you. Both stop in front of you, gazes on the ground. 

"All done—oh!" Without a word, Sun and Moon present their bags to you. You're… more than surprised. "I, for me? Really?"

Both nod, again not making eye contact, it makes the heat on your face grow worse. 

You take both bags, and nod once yourself. Now or never. "Thank you, boys. I, wasn't expecting this. These um, are for you." You present their respective plushes to them both, and they snap their heads up, eyes wide. 

"Oh, you didn't have to—"

"—get us anything."

You smile, laughing quietly. "Of course I did. That was the point to this trip, truth be told."

As they admire and fawn over their new stuffies, you pull your own surprises out of their bags. 

It's… the two of them. In plush form, of course. But they've got accessories. Over top their usual Daycare attire is more casual clothing. Sun is wearing a little silly t-shirt with a jacket, Moon a hoodie. Jeans and little sweatpants, and shoes to match. It takes a moment but it clicks that both outfits are similar to their current looks. The stuff they wear when home with you. 

Something compels you to hug both plushies tight, and you're shocked to hear their voices come from both. Not catching what they say you pull away, squeezing Sun's plush, then Moon's. 

"Love you more than all the stars in the sky, Sunshine!"

"Love you to the moon and back, Star."

You freeze at the words. You press play on both once more, hearing those same messages. 

'Love you.'

'Love you.'

You tune back in then, realizing that there's a sound playing nonstop in front of you. Your voice, doubled. 

Looking up, you see both bots are laser-focused on their respective stuffed animals. Both pressing the button to hear your voice say "Love you always Sunny!" or "Love you always Moony!" respectively. Over, and over, and over again. 

"Um... guys?" You ask. 

Instantly, they both whip to look at you. 

"Sunshine..."

"Do, do you mean it?"

You start to nod slowly. "Do you um, also mean it?" You lift your gifts from them. 

Moon nods, and Sun hums. 

Before you can say anything else, you're being picked up and spin around by Sun, he's laughing and yamerring on but you can't fully understand him. He sets you down after you protest, but you're pulled into a hug by Moon soon thereafter. Sun joins as well, and you're left standing there, hand reaching up to hold onto both of them in your slightly dazed state. 

You speak first. "So, you like your presents then?"

"Oh I love love love it! But I'm far more excited to get to say I love you." Sun squeezes you tighter. 

Moon snickers as you squeak. "I have to say the same. The gift is nice, but I prefer the real thing, personally."

"Un-understood." You mumble, burying your face in their combined arms as they both chuckle. 

Yup. You were definitely going to be doing this again. Make it a yearly tradition, even. 

A kiss is pressed to one of your cheeks, then the other soon thereafter. 

Changed your mind. Make it monthly. Maybe weekly. 

They were going to have to build up their collection again somehow, after all.

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Thank you for the super sweet request @luckyyyduckyyy!! I had a lot of fun being silly and fun with these guys hehe, esp the bits at the end there ashfkljsdlf

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[sorypsoid]

Started playing guild wars 2 and damn oh shit is that the sun coming up

[leafy-m]

So I hit my 700th edit for the WHA wiki today, because I am a totally normal person

[magnusmodig]

questions for characters / @brokeassgoing / accepting !

╰┈➤ gimmie thor's fave toy as a child besides his baby bro

||. absolutely all of the various possible weapons that are in the Einherjar barracks. And the Vault. ...It didn't matter to Thor whether they were for training, or the real deal, Thor would find the weapons absolutely INCREDIBLE and want to master them himself. ESPECIALLY the swords, axes, and hammers.

Contrary to most popular depictions, though, I don't think that Thor would have been innately drawn to Mjolnir. At least, not enough to attempt to lift it. (People often forget, too, that Mjolnir was only enchanted to be unable to lift after Odin banished Thor. Prior to that moment in 2011, Thor would've been able to lift the hammer, for all we know.) I think he would marvel at it, and find its history - or rather, its apparent lack of history - to be utterly fascinating to him. And thus it would compel him to learn more about urdu and Nidavellir and King Eitri of the Dwarves. Eventually it became the weapon gifted to him as Crown Prince of Asgard, but before then he had his trusty asgardian-forged axe, Jarnbjorn.

I think besides play weapons, he might have indulged in some small toys like the magnetic propulsion ball or perhaps a top, alongside various other small toys that are hands-on in application. But other than that, I don't think Thor would have played with toys so much as engaging himself with Loki's company, and their active imaginations. After all, a palace has a great many halls to explore, and hidden rooms and long corridors, and great lush gardens that come especially alive during Thor's rains. Secret passageways and hundreds of ways to escape their nannies, tutors and parents absolutely outweigh any toy. ALTHOUGH playing pretend and reenacting stories that Frigga told, or read from books comes as a close third.

[xoxo-sarah]

My Wife

Part 2 | part 3

↝a/n: 2,605 w/c... I like this one, guys.

↝pairing: Season 1!Daryl x wife!reader

↝warning: usual walking dead stuff, angst, animal death (mentions blood. No details), reader being sexualized?, creepy men, harassment, the creepy guy getting punched (he deserved it), cursing, protective Daryl, Merle (ew), crying, moody and soft Daryl, sassy Daryl (it's season one, what do you expect?), slightly proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 10.2.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

Before the apocalypse, you'd say your life wasn't bad. You had a decent job that paid well. A husband, a dog, and a house you owned all on your own, without any help from your parents.

You had met Daryl fresh out of college. He was staying with Merle at the time. In a rush to get away from your parents, you found a rent-to-own house on the outskirts of Atlanta. It wasn't extravagant, only having 2 beds and one bath. It was still a house-your house.

The first time you went to the grocery store to stock up before you started work since the big move, an old man had hit on you. Daryl listened from afar, not wanting to cause any more trouble for you. He knew you hadn't been in these parts of town before, he hadn't seen you before.

After many attempts at shooting the guy down, Daryl had to intervene. The guy had grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, the guy was backing away from you.

“She said she's not interested.”

“My bad, man. Didn't know she was yours.” He raised his hands, grin still on his face. It was a game to him.

“So you only take no for an answer if I 'belong' to someone?” Venom laced your voice, disgust painted into the wrinkles between your eyebrows and frown lines, glaring through the guy. A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, followed by a smoker's cough that told you he had more tar in his lungs than he had sense in his brain.

“Ma'am, will all due respect-”

“I doubt anything respectful comes out of that raunchy mouth of yours.”

His grin dropped, eyes slanting in your direction. “This one sure has a mouth on her,” his attention moved back to Daryl. “She have that mouth in the sack?”

You scoffed, glancing down at the floor, collecting the words you wanted to shoot back at him.

In the time you looked away, Daryl had put the 12-pack of beer down and swung. You snapped your head up at the sound of a fist colliding with a cheek. Daryl glared, spitting at the man as he held his cheek in shock. “Give the lady some respect, prick.”

“Damnit, Dixon!” An elderly man came running down the aisle, a manager tag clinking against the pins on his shirt. Safe to say both men had been kicked out.

After checking out, you caught sight of Daryl hunched over, looking at his bruising knuckles.

“Here's for helping me.”

Daryl's head shot up, eyes flickering to the 12-pack in your outstretched hand. “Ya didn't have to.”

“You didn't have to.” He shrugged, taking the box from you.

the rest was history.

You eventually got together, then, moved in together. He supported you in your job, making jokes about you “bringing home the bacon”. The only downside was his brother.

“Damnit, Merle.”

An intoxicated Merle flopped on your couch, cackling up at Daryl. You watched from behind the couch, arms folded across Daryl's shirt draping over your form. Daryl's own top half was bare, his muscles flexing when he folded his arms in disappointment, glaring down.

“What? Did I interrupt you 'n your housewife duties?”

You scoffed, turning around to walk back to your room, the dog Daryl had gotten you for your birthday following after you. Merle watched your movement, lowly whistling. “I'd be a housewife for that piece, too.”

Daryl grabbed the collar of Merle's shirt, bringing him to eye level. “Don't talk about my wife like that.” He threw him back against the couch, “You're out by the mornin'.”

The world had gone to shit right in the middle of your workday. Everyone was running around, yelling and panicking. You tried making a beeline for your car, getting pushed and pulled every which way. The traffic was the worst you had ever seen, when you had finally made your way onto the road.

When you finally got home, the door was open.

You rushed in, looking in every room. There was no sign of Daryl besides the place being completely trashed, in a rush to leave. He wasn't there. You had no clue where he was, if he was safe, if he knew what was happening.

You cracked the backdoor open, nearly falling to your knees. A body laid on the back porch, blood dried on its way down the person's forehead. A lump of fur and blood was right beside it. A sob racked your body on your way back to your car. Your knuckles were ghostly white as they gripped the steering wheel, as you made your way out of town, away from the life you worked hard to get and worked harder to keep.

You eventually got stuck in even more traffic. Everything only got worse when your car ran out of gas.

You had to hide in the city, which was run with zombies. Luckily for you, you had found a few bodies that hadn't turned yet, stealing anything that could be used as a weapon. You were able to stay safe, hiding in an empty office building. Living off of the vending machines and what was left in the break rooms.

You regularly walked up to the roof, getting fresh air, wondering where Daryl had gone and if he was thinking of you. Sure, a part of you wanted to be mad at him for leaving without you, but you knew he had to have his reasons. Merle had to of made him run away with him when the news first got out.

While you looked over the edge, watching as dead bodies herded together, feasting on whatever had run into the city on your way up here, you saw quick movement to your left. Swirling around, you held your gun up, pointing it at the kid in front of you.

“Woah, Hey! I'm alive- I'm alive! Not going to hurt you.” The poor boy might as well have been shivering in his boots. His hands shook in the air. He was probably the third person you've seen, alive, since you squatted in the top floor. He didn't seem like the guy to kill you just to take your stuff. “Look, there's a guy in the tank down there. I'm just trying to help him.” You thought back to the sounds of pained neighing you heard when you first stepped onto the roof, but you had shrugged it off, figuring you were going insane already. No sleep and being isolated will do that to you. “C'mon, dude.” He was practically begging you to not shoot him in the head.

What would Daryl do in this situation? He wouldn't just trust anyone when it comes to survival. You reluctantly put your gun down, watching as he sighed in relief. You hid the shake in your hands when they fell to your sides, not wanting him to know you didn't want to kill him even if he were dangerous.

“We have to get down there to help him.” The boy leaned over the edge, at the tank and the 'geeks' that surrounded it.

“We?”

He looked back at you, then to the tank. “The extra help would be appreciated.”

Somehow, you followed after him, climbing down fire escapes and counting the amount of bodies in each alleyway. He was quick, but you kept up with him with ease.

He led you down the alleyway, hiding behind the trashcans and gate separating you and a painful death. “You have good aim? I need you to shoot that big guy closest to the tank.” He whispered, fixing the hat on his head.

You glanced at him, watching as he awaited your next move. You whispered back, “it's empty.” You held the gun up in emphasis. You weren't going to tell him that when it was pointed at him. He huffed, throwing his head back. “I only have a knife.”

He shrugged off his backpack, grabbing the empty gun and throwing it in there. It was useless with no bullets, and it only took up a hand, making it harder for you to climb.

“Alright, change of plans.” He grabbed the walkie, bringing it to his mouth before pressing the button. “Hey, you alive in there?”

A frantic voice broke through the static, “Hello? Hello?!”

The next thing you knew, you were running downstairs with the young boy, Glenn, you had figured out, and the guy you nearly died saving, Rick. Glenn led you two to another alleyway, before the door to the building in front of you busted open, 2 people filing out with gear and helmets on, attacking the walkers wondering in front of you.

“Lets go!” Glenn jumped over the bodies on the ground, running through the door, you and Rick following. As soon as you were through the door, you were pushed to the other side of the wall, before Rick was pushed back, a gun aimed at his face. “You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you.” A blonde woman was seething, ready to put a bullet in Rick's head.

“Just chill out, Andrea. Back off.” One of the guys who bashed the walker's head in pulled off the armor, glaring at the blonde.

“Come on, ease up.”

“Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole.” The gun was pointed at you next, “And her.” Her finger twitched on the trigger, but you were at a loss of words.

“She helped.” Glenn was ignored.

“Andrea, I said, back the hell off. Or pull the trigger.” The same guy from before stepped forward, closer to Andrea. It was silent for a second, before Andrea dropped her hand, lips quivering with oncoming tears. You took a breath, having the room to do so when a gun isn't pointed at you.

“We're dead,” Andrea sobbed, “All of us.” Her gaze moved back to Rick, “Because of you.”

You wondered after everyone as they walked through the old building, listening as they scolded rick for firing his gun.

“No signal. Maybe the roof.” The man, who was introduced as T-Dog, said, holding the walkie. Before anyone else could reply, a gun shot fired, echoing from above.

“Oh no, Is that Dixon?”

“Dixon?”

Andrea stopped her movement, looking back at you. “Yeah. What, you know 'em?”

Sadly, you were met with a distasteful Merle on the roof. He refused to tell you about Daryl-about how Merle had to drag in out of the house. About how Daryl wanted to pick you up and take you with them. About how Daryl had gone back, against Merle's wishes, and found you nowhere in the house. But you weren't told that, so the nerves in your stomach still fluttered, making you feel like you were going to vomit any minute. The only thing he told you was that Daryl was with the rest of the group by the quarry.

The nerves still fluttered even on your way to the said quarry. The thought of Merle being trapped in the roof was at the back of your mind, the thought of seeing Daryl for the first time in God knows how long, being front and center in your mind. Your leg shook with nerves as you sat in the back of the van, hitting a bump every once in a while, and knocking into one of the other people.

The van pulled up to the quarry, people piling out of the back, running to their families.

You were introduced to a woman named Carol. She was surprised when you told her that you knew Daryl. The short time she had known the man, she couldn't think of him having a soft spot for anyone, but here you were. She told you that he had gone hunting and that he should be back before dawn.

You sat around, getting to know everyone. As soon as Carol's husband raised his voice to her, you had kept an eye on him, instantly feeling protective of the woman. As she silently did for you. She kept an eye on you, making sure you felt comfortable among all of the strangers.

Night fell and there was still no sign of Daryl. You distracted yourself by helping Carol with whatever, or Dale with lookout. You hadn't told anyone much about you and Daryl. Mostly because you couldn't form a coherent sentence with Daryl on your mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn't he back? The band around your ring finger became a fidget habit. You spun it around any time the thoughts got too much.

The crisp morning air did little to wake you. You might as well have been a walker with how you sluggishly moved around camp, helping with anything, wanted to be helpful and pull your weight.

Carol handed you another pair of soaked pants, to ring the water out and hang it up to dry. While doing so, your eyes caught sight of Rick and Lori. They had been reunited. When was it your turn?

“How did you and Daryl meet?” Glancing back up at Carol, you cleared your throat to speak.

Before you could utter a word, a scream echoed throughout the camp, followed by Carl's screams for his mother.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, a few running toward the screaming, ready for the worst.

You walked behind the group, watching as Rick, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and a few others beat the walker that had made it from the city.

Dale swung down with his axe, cutting the head clean off the walker's body.

“It's the first one we've had up here.” He heaved, “They never come this far up the mountain.”

“Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what.” Another guy, Jim, said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Branches snapped, followed by more footsteps. The guys with the weapons moved toward the sound, weapons ready.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Daryl stepped over branches, slightly taken aback with everyone standing in front of him, ready to strike.

Everyone took a step back, “Oh, Jesus.” Dale's shoulders released the tension.

“Son of a bitch.” Daryl cursed, “That's my deer!” He walked to what was left of the poor animal.

He looked how he did when you first met. Frustration clear on his brow. You had helped him get rid of the constant scrunch of his brow and frown on his lips, and here it was, making its appearance in a dramatic manner.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this-” He kicked the headless body that laid on the ground, “filthy,” kick “disease-bearing,” kick “motherless,” kick “poxy bastard!”

“Calm down, son. That's not helping.” Dale peeped, infuriating Daryl more.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl walked closer, getting in Dale's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to “On Golden Pond”?"

“Daryl.”

Daryl paused, his face dropping. He turned to the voice, his knees nearly collapsing from underneath him.

Before you could say anything else, his crossbow was dropping to the ground, followed by the string of squirrels on his shoulder. He rushed over, his body colliding with yours. His calloused hands pulled your face closer to his.

He didn't care if everyone was watching. Or if the scene made them think differently about his tough-guy thing he had going on. His lips moved against yours.

“I didn't know where you were.” He mumbled against your lips. “I tried looking everywhere-”

“I know, I know. Doesn't matter.”

Part 2

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[aclowndoll]

Imagine female Yuu having to cross dress to avoid unnecessary trouble at NRC and Idia finds out through Ortho. Because I can see Ortho finding out if Yuu ever got a minor injury and he was around to play nurse, knowing him he’d do a quick full body scan and find a very high amount of estrogen in her system.

And he blabs to Idia because he’s a snitch who doesn’t keep anything from his brother; if you tell a secret to him, you’re basically telling it to them.

Once Idia finds out, his mind INSTANTLY goes to those otome games and fanfics and gacha life videos about a girl in all boys school. He always thought those were just fun fantasies, but upon seeing that exact scenario happening in real life he becomes curious.

Prior to this, Idia probably wouldn’t think much about Yuu. To him, she was just the odd magicless guy his brother would occasionally run into; the most interesting thing about her was her cat, in his eyes. But now that he knows about her secret, he becomes heavily invested in her school life, he wants to see how this is going to turn out.

He doesn’t exactly stalk Yuu, it’s not like he’s putting cameras in Ramshackle or listening devices in her bag, it’s more like he just pays extra close attention to her when he has the chance, such as during joint classes and lunch. And since Ortho and her are on amicable terms, he encourages Ortho to spill any gossip he learns when around her.

To Idia’s surprise and delight, things end up matching up almost perfectly with what he’s come to expect from these kinds of plots. The ones close to Yuu, who seem to be privy to her secret from what he’s gathered, are all either falling in love or have already been in love. They’re extra protective of her, they’re affectionate and soft with her, and they get jealous when she gives too much of her attention to any one of them.

Idia knows about the overblot incidents, so of course he’d see the pattern in who starts getting closer. Every time someone overblots, Yuu will be there to help and both the overblotter and some other select people in their dorm will begin to fall. It’s a classic pattern.

At this point, Idia would simply see himself as an observer peeking in on this story and, therefore, he can’t be affected by Yuu. He’s not a love target in her story, he’s a side character.

It doesn’t matter that he’s occasionally run in with Yuu and each time he has she’s been a true friend to an introvert like him by making his anxious ass feel comfortable. It doesn’t matter because he’s aware of what’s happening and thus he can’t be affected.

But then he also overblots, and just like before she was there to help pick up the pieces. After that they ended up talking and Idia gets to know more about Yuu, more than he could learn by just observing.

Before long, he’s actually looking forward to seeing her again, to nerding out about his favorite anime’s with her in person because she’s always such a good listener. He’s looking at his manga and game collections and thinking about what she would like.

Idia doesn’t even realize his hearts been skipping beats when she’s around until one day when he’s in class and she walks in. Like a dog hearing their owner walk through the front door, his gaze shoots up and instantly that class gets fifty times more bearable with her around.

…And then he looks around and every other “main character” has had the same reaction.

Which means that he’s also a captured love target, just like them…

Oh how the turn tables for a dating sim loving nerd like himself

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Three

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Suggestive themes (smut is coming I promise)

I literally wrote a whole chapter and it deleted </3

Masterlist

You woke up, body slumped against the door as you groaned. The soft strum of pain vibrated through your lower back, the dull ache sending a small zap through you as you stood up.

Groggy eyes drifted to the stained window, the barely visible streak of sun peaking over the forest as you sighed, feet padding against the floors as soft creaks spoke back to you.

You stared in the mirror, dull eyes staring back. You rubbed your face, small streaks of sticky sleep dragging across your palms as you picked them off.

Mortification is all you could feel. Not only are four men in your house, but you touched yourself to one, and another walked in on you. MID ORGASM. You silently prayed they had packed up their stuff and left. Or maybe it never happened and Ghost hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe- fuck it. There wasn’t much use denying.

The chill of the water woke you up as you scrubbed vigorously, almost as if you could wash away the embarrassment you felt.

You dressed yourself before heading to the barn, the acreage becoming more and more visible by the minute as you fed the animals, collecting any eggs in your makeshift apron, before letting the horses roam in the paddock

You took note of the overcast, thick smog of clouds littering across the barely visible sky. You needed the rain, but you also knew it would make it harder for them to leave if it did.

Conjuring that it would make things easier if they woke up and you were gone, you cooked yourself breakfast before heading out, planning to target a small set of shops you were yet to raid, tucked away on a more secluded part of the area. In fear of waking them up, you rolled out the rusting bike from the garage, a small woven basket adorned with half broken flowers as you rolled the worn wheels onto the gravel road.

You didn’t take much with you. Only a bottle of water, a pistol (incase you magically needed it) and two apples as well the large backpack stitched on your back.

The trail was mostly flat, a few rocks causing you to wobble from time to time, but for the most part it was an enjoyable ride. The soft flicker of the sun stretched through the adorned trees, the heaviness of the clouds beginning to weigh on you as you peddled faster.

It was an hour or two trek, you believed, the roaring ache of your thighs begging for the needed break as you pulled into the abandoned town. Sometimes you expect people to run out, waving you down in celebration, but it never came.

You could hear the soft groans of nearby dead, wobbling their rotting limbs towards the bike before turning around. The tinkle of the rusted bell greeted you as you ducked through the aisles. It was a small store, only supplying anything for a couple hundred, most items expired now anyway, but it was worth a look.

You held your bag open, dumping a few cans of tinned vegetables in as well as a bag of sugar, a pack of razors and some long-life cartons of skim milk. With achy thighs, you jumped over the counter, mess everywhere, register half open with nothing inside. It was funny, even during an apocalypse people found the time for money.

You rattled at the metal knob on the staff door, growing frustrated when it wouldn’t budge before you began to kick, slamming your boots against it repeatedly before it eventually swung open. It might have taken you 15 minutes, but it was sure worth it as you snatched up the golden sweetness many would refer to as whiskey.

You headed off with a few other things, half open stock boxes tipped everywhere as your hands grabbed for anything that hadn’t expire, or was about to. With a heavier bag, and a smug smile on your face, you peddled your way home.

“Y’ think she got scared and buggered off?” Soap quipped, mouth half full with an apple, juices spurting across the room as Ghost glared back.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Gaz interjected, thumb pointing towards the masked-man, “she probably would have let us stay.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, replaying the scene in his head for the hundredth time. Sure, he should’ve knocked but he’s glad he didn’t. Half of him wanted her to ask him to stay, to fully satisfy her, to fully satisfy him.

“She wouldn’t have just packed up and left- put far too much effort into all this place to leave,” Price said, voice deeper than usual as he took a swig of water. Time ticked slowly as they waited around, searching every crevice of the house before they landed on a bow and arrow.

Soap snatched it, veiny hands clawing at the weapon as if it was gold. “What’dya say, LT? Fancy hunting some deer?”

“I ain’t hunting for anybody if I ain’t staying-“

“Go hunt a f’cking deer,” Price huffed.

The two me disappeared into the forest as Gaz stepped outside, bottom plonked in the barely comfortable porch chair. The Captain knew you would probably bitch them out, but a sick part of him wanted you to let them stay, wanted you to realise they were what you needed, that they magically landed on your farm for some Godforsaken purpose.

He would make you realise. He knew he would.

You felt like vomiting now, your bones burning as if they had clawed through your flesh, attempting to escape the treacherous journey that you forced yourself to endure.

You almost felt lost. Why did it feel so much longer on the way back?

You smiled to yourself softly as you passed the tree you marked a few months ago, the unmistakable smiley face almost greeting you. Your smile quickly faded when you felt a spit land on your cheek. And then another. And another. Until you were peddling faster as wet pellets hit the ground.

Slippery hands clutched the leather handles as you neared the entrance of the farm. You were drenched now, hair matted to your neck and face as you flicked it behind you, annoyed that you neglected your clip.

Your boots squelched against the ground as you slammed the garage door shut, weak arms clutching your bag as you swung it around your shoulder, weaving in and out of trees as you stumbled up the front steps.

Tumbling inside, you took note of the cleaner house, a small wrapped bowl of vegetables and a bowl of tomato soup (that was probably cold now) greeting you as you kicked off your boots. You stood over the sink as you scrunched your hair out, the trickle of water tapping as you shrugged off your coat, fumbling outside to hang it on the underground clothes line.

For a minute you thought they had left, no manly faces greeting you until you heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Made you some lunch,” he said.

“Thank you… Gaz, isn’t it?” Clammy hands gripped the bowls as you sat down on the couch, the lukewarm mixture sliding down your oesophagus.

“That’s right,” he replied, gentle smile adorning his face as he watched you, trying to observe you, almost as if you were a war criminal he wanted to break in. Military men, you thought.

You sat in silence, yet didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. Though Gaz was incredibly handsome, and well built, you almost felt comfortable in his presence and you couldn’t quite place why.

“Where did you go?” He asked, almost as if he was hesitant to speak. Your eyes flickered to his lap, hands gently rubbing together before rubbing against his denim-covered thighs. He has nice thighs.

“Uh, I went into a town.. bout two hours from here. Got a few things and I also just wanted to.. get out, I guess.”

He nodded.

Once you finished up, you braced yourself as you ran outside, yet found no horses frolicking frightened in the paddock. Fear ran through you as you sprinted to the barn, heavy footsteps slapping against the mud as you took in the closed door.

You let out a shaky sigh, relieved, when you saw two large, longer heads staring at you from inside, the gentle squawks of hens sounding across the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put them inside, figured you would hav’ done that anyway when you got back.” You jumped at the voice, body jolting as you snapped your head.

Price stood there, rough hands clutching a wooden broom as he swept, a beanie now plonked on his head instead of the hat he greeted you with.

“Uh- thanks. Yeah, they’re afraid of the rain.”

“Y’r a good owner, picking up the slack after they were abandoned.”

“I guess so,” you conceded. You looked at him, taking in the way his eyes flickered down your drenched frame, a cerulean blue darkening into a navy.

“Y’r wet.” His tone was sharp, even while stating the obvious, a visible clench of his jaw causing you to tense as you wobbled, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

“Well, I was out in the rain,” you said, almost like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You looked away but could feel him walking closer to you.

“Y’r gonna catch a cold if you don’t change.”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, your voice now dropping to a low whisper. You looked at him, his stare heavy, almost like it was weighting you down. He smiled at you, a hand reaching out before it landed on the flesh of your waist, squeezing as you felt the familiar heat you encountered last night, prickling through you again.

Your breathing was shallow, an occasional hick passing through you as his hand lingered. “Pretty thing, hm?” He gestured, nodding towards your chest as you noticed the faint outline of the rose-coloured brassiere you chose today. You blushed and you were sure you looked silly, a red hue across your face as you barely stuttered a reply.

You turned, almost feeling like you were about to choke. Feeling betrayed by your own body, you pressed your thighs together and you were sure he noticed.

“Y’n need any help staying warm,” he began, “just tell me, sweetheart.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Breastfeeding kink w Felix (drabble)

pairing: felix x fem!reader

warnings: mommy kink, breastfeeding, milk, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, breeding kink, pls don't read if u don't like this😵‍💫 (reader's baby dad isn't in the picture)

a/n: can't sleep so🤭

Thinking about...

Your best friend Felix who's always there for you even when you had a baby and your boyfriend left you, you had no one but him.

Seeing you with the baby makes feelings stir inside him that he thought he buried long ago. When he thought you'd be nothing more than friends and his affection is one-sided.

Felix can't help but stare at your engorged breasts all the time, and you don't even wear bras anymore so you can easily breastfeed the baby.

You even start breastfeeding in front of Felix because you're close to him and you feel comfortable enough to be vunerable like that in front of your friend.

Felix feels dirty for it but his cock twitches when he sees your leaky nipples and breasts full of milk. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you and drink from you.

One day, when you're hanging out at your place, after the baby falls asleep, Felix begs for you to let him taste your milk.

You're shocked and bashful at first but the thought of his pretty plump lips wrapped around your nipples makes you throb with desire.

You unbutton your shirt and Felix feels like he'll burst from excitement, your breasts heavy and full just for him. He leans in, wrapping his lips around your tender nipple immediately and he starts sucking.

His eyes roll back at the sweet taste and he grabs at you desperately. You gasp and moan, he's sucking on you strongly, it's a completely different feeling than when you feed your baby.

"Lixie~"- you moan, your hand in his hair as you tug on it slightly and he looks up at you sweetly, innocently, swallowing your tasty milk.

"Mommy~"- he whimpers, tongue lapping at your leaky nipple, his eyes glassy and dark.

He wants more even after sucking on your tits, something he wanted for such a long time, his cock straining in his pants as he touches your wet cunt through your panties.

"Mommy let me taste your pussy, please."- he almost cries and you let him, your brain and body heavy with arousal.

He yanks your panties down, his fingers on your folds spreading the wetness to your clit as he plays with it.

He leans in taking your nipple in his mouth again, moaning around you as you whimper quietly, your legs spreading more for him.

Felix leans down between your legs spitting his saliva mixed with your milk all over your pussy before he buries his face between your legs and starts lapping at you hungrily.

You gasp and whine loudly, your hand clasping over your lips so you don't wake the baby as Felix eats you out, moaning desperately into you and making you incredibly wet.

His fingers replace his tongue, he pushes them in and fucks you, while his lips find your nipple again and he sucks on it harshly, gulping down on your sweet juice.

"You taste even sweeter when I please you."- his tongue runs over your nipple, collecting the drips of milk.

"Mm- Lixie!"- you moan as he hits your sweet spot. He continues ramming his fingers into it until you can't take anymore and you spill all over his fingers. He pulls them out and sucks on them eagerly as his big eyes stare at you sweetly.

"Please, let me put my cock inside you mommy!"- he begs, already pushing his sweatpants down.

"You gonna be a good boy and fuck mommy right, hm?"- you smirk, your hand on his cheek.

"Yes mommy, I'll fuck you so good, I swear!"- he whines, pressing the head of his hard cock on your clit.

"You can fuck me, baby."- you say and Felix mewls as he pushes into you making you moan as you hold onto his shoulders.

He grabs your boob and sucks on it, squeezing it and making the milk spurt out on his face and tongue as he fucks into you desperately like an animal in heat.

Both of you moan, your hips meeting his, you're loving the way he slams his cock deep into you, shaping your pussy to fit him perfectly.

"Mommy, I need to cum. I need to breed you mommy, please!"

"Breed me, Lixie!"- you whine just as desperately as he does and he cums hard, filling you up to the brim, claiming you as his. He pulls out and you feel his cum gush out of your fucked out pussy.

"Mommy's mine forever."- Felix says into your neck, his fingers between your legs as he plays with his cum and pushes it back into your fluttering hole.

"Yes, I'm yours forever, baby."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght

[mayaree-darling]

just a bit of luck your way // Self Aware Wuthering Waves (Jiyan)

Pairing(?): SelfAware!Jiyan and Player!Reader

Synopsis: You're one of the many players who started playing Wuthering Waves on release and of course the main thing you waited for is pulling for Jiyan.

From Mayaree: celebrating rn coz i got Jiyan and his weapon on my first 10 pull on each banner (dont know if that's supposed to happen but still a celebration).

CW: self aware au; no concrete spoilers because i just reached a little past level 20; swearing; second person pov (you, your, etc.)

Word Count: 2.8k (unedited)

Surely, surely there was something wrong with this game. You know for a fact you ain't that lucky - especially in these anime gacha games - so either there was something wrong with this game or the devs were just that giving to their players.

You had decided to play Wuthering Waves on a whim, caught up on the excited chatter you've been hearing all over the internet at its coming release. Patiently waiting for the servers to open worldwide, you sat down on your cozy chair with some snacks and a drink, ready to play. A grin ticks your lips upwards as you're taken to choosing your character.

You gotta say, the game is pretty amazing on your first run. Attack, parry, dodge. Seems simple enough. With a few fights, you were getting used to the routine and the enemies' patterns. If you had to nitpick something, though-

"This feels a little too easy." You were by no means an overly skilled player, as far as you were aware. Maybe it's because you're just barely past the start of the game, but it feels like the enemies were dying a bit too quickly. And you were only dealing like 10 damage per swing.

But just as you say it, you sit up in your chair in attention. Did… did they just get harder to kill? No, wait, you did just raise your Union Level, so maybe that's why. The enemies' attack patterns are slightly more advanced and although you're dealing more damage, their health bars are keeping up with you. Well, you were complaining earlier, so maybe this was a good thing? You keep playing, now being kept on your toes during combat.

After grinding a bit more - how much time have you spent already? Not enough, you think - you finally unlock what you've been waiting for this whole time.

The gacha system.

You're no stranger to gacha games. If anything, it's the reason you played this game in the first place. Sure the combat was nice, but what was better than collecting these prettily designed anime men and women and running around with them on the open world map? Nothing was more fulfilling than staring at your growing roster of playable characters the longer you played the game.

And for Wuthering Waves, the first addition to your would-be collection appears on the screen.

You'd be lying if you said you were going into the game blind. With the amount of Jiyan videos you've seen from the betas and leaks, you may as well have played him for a month now. From idle animations to his forte attack, you watched as many videos available as you could. And each one solidified for you that you needed to pull for him. That man was coming home one way or another.

Grinding a little more astrite by doing a couple of missions here and there - you had 1,300 astrite, just a little more for the home goal and then- you were ready. Sure it's just a meager 10 pulls but it was definitely a start. And you never know… right? You click the 10 pull button and-

OH??? SHIT, WAS THAT GOLD JUST NOW???? YOU KNOW FOR A FACT GOLD IS A GOOD THING, RIGHT??? You click through the 3-star results as quick as you can and- YEAH YEAH THAT'S HIS ANIMATION IT'S HIM HE'S HOME IT'S JIYAN!

You all but kick the chair away and bump your whole lower half on the table as you jump up in joy. You may as well be doing backflips while you're at it. You got him??? On the first 10 pull, no less???? This game was spoiling you holy shit. And it's only been a day.

Immediately heading over to the characters screen, you go to Jiyan's profile and just. Stare at him. Basking in the fact that you played this game on day 1, got the first available limited 5 star, and on your first fucking 10 pull.

Holy shit.

You scream into a pillow and hope your housemates don't hear. Or maybe they should hear because this has got to be the luckiest day of your life and you'd flex it on their faces if they understood the gacha game hype. Going back to the screen, Jiyan is doing one of his idles, twirling around his spear. My god, he looked glorious. His whole appearance was both beautiful and imposing. He looked so cool, hot damn.

"I'll be relying on you from now on, general." You grin once more and spin your chair with a whoop.

You level him up as high as you can, using all the leveling materials available at the moment. He's capped out at 20 right now because you did just start playing and still haven't unlocked character ascension, but you're willing to grind more just to raise him. You even move him to the first spot in your team (sorry, Rover, you can take the next spot).

You head on over to training, to gather some weapon and leveling materials but also because you want to test him out in battle. Damn it all, those beta videos of him didn't disappoint. He was just as good, if not even better since you're the one playing him right now.

He was definitely fun to play with. Of course, all the characters are fun to play with, but Jiyan was twice as fun. Would it be bold to say it was like you were meant to play as him? Suddenly the game is easier again. But not because the enemies are easy to kill, more so you feel like you're able to move better. You seem to be able to time dodging and parrying a lot better, even knowing when to attack at the best moment. Clearly, it was a really good decision to pull for him.

When you've grinded enough - he's level 40 now and you've fully accepted you're in this game for the long run - you go to level up his 4-star broadblade and then stop. You've saved up enough astrite for another 10 pull, right? Maybe you still have some luck left from the Jiyan pull, so… maybe?

"What do you think, Jiyan? Do I go for it?" You laugh at the absurdity of your one sided conversation. "I think you deserve your main weapon."

To your surprise, you watch as he laughs once, shaking his head and looking away with a barely noticeable smile (it's hard to tell with your gadget's graphics, but you definitely heard him). Was… was that part of his idle animations? You make a split-second decision to check his profile. Uh, no? No, it wasn't? Where'd that come from??? Well, maybe it was a secret animation plugged in by the devs. Game devs did like adding a little secret every now and then, right?

Anyways, although indirectly, Jiyan just gave you his answer. You were pulling for his weapon. You mean, there's still like 20 days left for you to pull if you don't get it right away, so there's no harm in building pity right now. Right? Right. To the gacha you go.

Breathing out - maybe a small prayer to the gacha gods in your head - you click the 10 pull button on the limited-time weapon banner-

WAITWAITWAITWAIT WAS THAT FUCKING GOLD??? AGAIN??? THERE'S NO SHOT. THERE'S NO FUCKING SHOT THAT THIS IS-

You stare at the golden glowing weapon on your screen in disbelief. A second passes, and then another as you stare at the green and gold broadblade. Verdant Summit. In the flesh. Excitement follows soon after like a tidal wave. You're off your chair in the next second again, fist-pumping the air like no tomorrow. You don't even care if your housemates hear you jumping around this time.

"JIYAN, LOOK, WE ACTUALLY GOT YOUR WEAPON!" You think you hear someone knock at your walls but you could care less right now.

When you're seated and back to your screen, you immediately equip the blade to Jiyan and stare again. Fuck, he really did look cool. With the sword, he's even twice as cool. Okay, he was hot, you're not gonna sugarcoat it. He was both in equal measure. You try swinging the blade around and breathe out in awe.

"It looks like it was made for you," you laugh. Well, surely it was. The blade was designed for him from the moment it was created, but still. You hear his little laugh again, but the animation seems to be cut short when you accidentally slash. Whoops.

When the excitement dies down, exhaustion sets in. You look at the time. Damn, it was that late? You really played the game for a whole day? Woof.

But you think it was well worth it as you watch Jiyan with his weapon in action. You finish up battling with a few more enemies before leaning back on your chair, content. Silly as it may be, you wish your team goodnight before logging off for the day.

Jiyan waits until he can't hear your voice or feel the warmth that overtakes him whenever you use him before he moves. He groans as he stretches. You really did enjoy using him to explore Solaris 3, no doubt about that. Not that he was complaining.

Far from it, really.

"Cheater." Jiyan blinks once before turning around. Rover stands there, arms crossed with a frown set upon their face. Jiyan could tell there was no real bite to their expression or words, but he still found it rather funny.

"Are you talking to me, Rover?" Jiyan's voice is calm and collected, but he can feel the corner of his mouth tick upwards ever so slightly.

"You know what you did." Rover scoffs, still lacking actual bite. It was more like teasing, if anything. "You wanted to make them happy that much?"

"Is it not possible I just wanted to visit Jinzhou for a bit? Their goals and mine simply aligned at the moment and I used the opportunity." A lie, but not quite.

Yes, he did want to visit Jinzhou. Word had reached him of the new Rover who even the Magistrate had taken a keen interest to. He wanted to make sure they weren't anything dangerous, despite the prophecy. Jué knows the last thing they need is the Midnight Rangers at the Norfall Barriers and an ambush in the main city.

But the moment he arrived, things were very different. For one, the very Rover he was so wary of ended up working with him in a small team of three. The Rover was no normal person, either. Yes, Jiyan could tell that they were strong and would be able to get stronger at a rapid pace. But they also seemed too observant. How should he put it? It felt like they were seeing something else he couldn't. Or they were seeing everything differently.

And then he felt it for himself.

Your voice is warm but thunderous, and yet it was not painful for the ears. Loud with excitement he can't quite understand. You're excited… that you have him? You even said you would rely on him from now on. He could laugh at how easy you were to please. Something so simple and you were already so happy. Maybe it's simply your emotions leaking into his own soul, but he could feel the genuine joy that you were feeling. He prides himself for choosing to come home as soon as he could if only to share in your happiness. He wanted to understand whatever it is that makes you so excited. After so much bloodshed, your joy felt like a breath of fresh air he hadn't taken in so long.

As you use him to walk around the world and fight Tacet Discords, it felt like he was seeing the world for the first time again. Maybe this is what the Rover was seeing with their observant eyes. Jiyan felt like he was experiencing Solaris 3 for the first time once again. Whenever you gasped at the sights of high cliffs and the boundless sky, he may as well be sighing in amazement with you.

"Right… Took the opportunity. Sure." Rover raised an eyebrow. "And the broadblade?"

Jiyan shrugs. "I find that I work better with a familiar weapon." Another lie, but not quite.

He didn't mind using another weapon. His skills lay in his own sharpened abilities, not in whatever object he had on hand. He could manage fine with any other broadblade you gave him, and he trusted you to help him fight. You fumbled a little bit here and there, made him attack a little recklessly at times, but you were doing your best. Jiyan could count on you in battle.

However, when you asked him if he wanted his weapon, he stopped. Having his sword on hand would do him good, of course. As he told the Rover, he fights even better with Verdant Summit. But, there was something about you asking his opinion. He knows you cannot read his thoughts. And yet you asked. It felt rather nice… A connection between you both. A familiarity he did not expect but was definitely not unwelcome.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. To his surprise, you actually hear him. He frowns at the short panic this causes (did you not want to hear from him after all?), but thankfully you move on from it quickly enough. You take his laugh as a good sign and decide to acquire his weapon.

When he saw the shooting stars alight the waters below, Jiyan pondered for a second. Surely, there won't be any harm in helping you a bit, right? He reaches down and touches one of the stars, immediately making it light a glowing golden light as it shoots to the sky. He feels your joy before he hears it and with it, his own chest is filled with warmth.

There's a silence that overtakes you when you see the weapon that makes Jiyan worried. Did… you not want his weapon after all? But that can't be right, you even asked him for his thoughts. Or did you sense that you received it without effort? Did you realize he helped you get it? Maybe he shouldn't have meddled with your abilities.

Before he can overthink and sink into a spiral of doubt, your screams of joy and the sound of you jumping around in pure happiness fill his ears. Jiyan breathes out in relief, another small smile making its way to his lips. He was worried for nothing. Maybe you were just shocked for a little bit. Did you think he would not help you get it? He knew you would, he just helped you receive it earlier than you would have. He may or may not have simply wished to hear your joyous laughter at the moment.

As you give him Verdant Summit, he tests its weight and familiarity in his hand and perform a couple of swings (maybe he wanted to show it off a bit for you, just a touch). You think it was made for him? Well surely it was, and yet the comment makes him laugh a little more. You've been making him a laugh for a while now.

You enjoy a few more moments with him, battling together. He enjoys them as well, if he was honest, as you spend the time praising him and being in awe. It was rather embarrassing if he was honest, but he appreciated it all the same. Before he knew it, time had flown in an instant. You bid him and the others goodnight before leaving, and he knows you leave with a smile on your lips.

"Uh-huh. Right. I definitely believe you." Rover laughs. "Don't think I didn't see you smile, General Jiyan."

Almost on instinct, Jiyan covers his mouth with a hand, looking away. It barely concealed his embarrassment. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Be careful the others don't catch you helping them too much." Baizhi suddenly speaks from the side. She was so quiet Jiyan almost forgot she was there. The Rover smiles teasingly, before they turn around with a small wave. Baizhi follows soon after with a nod. "Chixia's already complaining that they're showing you too much favoritism."

"I- yes, of course. Thank you for the advice, Baizhi." Jiyan clears his throat.

Was it that obvious? Most likely. Rover and Baizhi may have seen too much considering they've been traveling together for a while now, but if even the others were noticing his closeness to you then he was doing a poor job at hiding it. However, was there really a need to hide it? The others did not try hiding their favor for the warm voice they hear and who guides them. So, there was no need to hide it himself, was there?

He spins his newly obtained sword - an old companion, but he felt like he was seeing it for the first time all over again, with better memories attached to it - and smiles softly. Yes, there was no need to hide how he favored your connection to him. It wouldn't even be a bold claim for him to say he was happy that he had made the decision to come when you called for him.

Jiyan hopes you stay with him for a while longer, if only to see what you see, feel happiness the way you do. He'd like that a lot.

From Mayaree: Said I was gonna write Self Aware Star Rail but I just got too excited. Thank you, WuWa.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Your Witch (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: It's your hand in marriage in return for ending the terror against your town, and your parents have decided. The Witch of the Westview Woods is to be your wife. No matter how much you might protest.

Words: 7k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, shades of self harm, toxic family relationships, virgin R, oral (R receiving), shades of a praise kink

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly

“I will not.”

You glared at your parents, arms crossed over your chest, lips pursed. Anger was coursing through your veins, hot and acute, making you vibrate. You had to keep from growling at them, or lashing out. This was a level of disrespect you weren’t willing to live with. This was a step too far. This was the straw that was breaking the camel’s back.

“It’s already been arranged,” your father said, his arm around your mother’s shoulder, providing a united front.

“I won’t,” you said.

“It’s your duty,” your father said.

“Duty?” you scoffed, “and what of your duty as my parents?”

“What would you have us do?” your mother demanded.

“Not sell me off like some farm animal for your own comfort,” you spat.

“The Witch of the Westview Woods has made her request clear. If we give her you she will leave our town alone,” your father said.

“I doubt she even knows who I am,” you muttered.

“You are more than aware of your reputation in town. She made her choice. You are to be hers and in exchange our safety will be ensured. You should feel honoured to be serving our town,” your father said.

“I’d be more honoured if I wasn’t the sacrificial lamb,” you said, “you would never have agreed to this if it was James she asked for.”

Your younger brother was the favourite. You knew it. You parents knew it. Everyone knew it. If the Witch had demanded him, your father would have fought tooth and nail to keep him. But the moment it was you being asked for, he was shoving you out the door. James was the heir, you were just a measly daughter. No one needed you except to increase the social status of your family.

No wonder you were being sold off to the first witch that came along.

“And I don’t see why it has to be a marriage,” you said before they could give a half hearted excuse.

“We’re not risking you running off after you’ve been collected by her,” he said.

“I can run off when I’m married to her,” you muttered.

“You’ll do no such thing,” your mother snapped, “now, stop this silliness. This a show of good faith. An exchange. She receives something precious to us in return for our safety.”

“You don’t have to pretend as if you’re not excited about this,” you said.

“It’s a great honour to be chosen by her,” she said.

“Then you do it!.”

You stomped away, hiking your skirt up to speed up. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, you let the entire household know exactly how you felt. Falling back on the bed, you buried your face in your pillow and screamed.

The Witch of the Westview Woods had been terrorising your town for as long as anyone could remember. Children stolen in the night, fires set, storms tearing the roofs off homes. Floods and locusts and droughts. One thing after another that no one should be capable of. But she had magic and no matter who was sent to slay her, she triumphed.

And you were being handed right to her.

If you survived to the years end you would be surprised. It made no sense for you to be the exact thing that would save the town. If it all it took was marrying her, how hard could it be to vanquish her?

This whole thing reeked of something. You just wish you knew what it was.

And yet you found yourself being shoved into a white dress the next afternoon, your hair pinned tight enough to bring on a headache and makeup painted over your face. Poked and prodded, your mother’s servants got you ready for the moment your life was going to end.

Walking towards the church, your father was your guard, his hand around your arm keeping you from slipping away and living life as a vagrant. Anything would be better than the fate that awaited you at the end of that alter.

The organ music began and on heavy feet you were dragged down the aisle. Fuming, you refused to even look at your bride as you were forced to stand in front of her. You were slow to drag your gaze up her body, over her bare feet and deep purple skirts, over her laced up bodice and into bright blue eyes. Your mouth fell open, shocked by the woman staring back you with an assessing gaze and lips curling up into a smile.

This was not a wild hag living in the woods. This was a woman beautiful enough to steal your breath. This was a problem.

One way or another, the Witch of the Westview Woods was going to kill you.

Her voice was husky as she repeated the vows, blue eyes burning you as her gaze rested on your face. You stumbled through your own vows, the wind taken out of your sails. The anger had fizzled out in the face of this woman, so unexpected, so unlike anything you could have anticipated.

Her hand took yours, warm and steady where you felt unbalanced. She slipped the ring on your finger, the cool metal heavy and you found yourself having to swallow past a lump in your throat. You whispered your I do and then her hand was grasping yours and she was dragging you out of the chapel.

“Come on, hon,” she said, “we have a wedding night to get to.”

Your cheeks heated.

You didn’t even glance back at your family as she practically flew out of town. Her hand was steady in yours, gripping tight enough to hurt. She plunged into the forest, branches whipping at you. Any time you stumbled, her strong arm would curl around your waist and steady you before taking off again.

The house that emerged from the trees was small, a cottage covered in ivy, plants snarled together in the garden, a soft light glowing in the window. She shoved the door open, pulling you into the interior of the home. It was comfortable, a fire burning in the hearth. Books were in tumbling piles and there was an armchair draped in a soft looking blanket. She dropped your hand, stepping further into her home.

“Home sweet home,” she hummed.

She flopped down into her armchair, grinning up at you. You hesitated at the door, the lace of your dress scratching at your skin, buttons pinching, too tight to breathe properly. She was watching you from behind wild hair, assessing you.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” she asked.

“No,” you said, taking a step forward.

“C’mere, hon,” she said.

On unsure feet you drew closer to her. Long fingers reached out, snagging on the skirt of your dress, the lace dirty and ripped from your flight through the forest. Her fingers ran over the material, looking up at you from under lowered lashes.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to slip into something more comfortable?” she asked, voice a low rumble that had your knees turning to jelly.

“I didn’t bring anything with me,” you said.

“Even better.” She brightened, “do you need any help?”

You squeaked, cheeks aflame as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open. She chuckled, falling back to slouch in the chair.

“Feel free to wear anything you find upstairs,” she said, nodding towards the stairs.

You lingered a moment before making your way upstairs. It was only one room, a large bed dominating the room. You skirted around it, doing your best to ignore it. The wardrobe had clothes spilling out, a mishmash of materials, all in shades of purple.

You tore the buttons from the dress, doing your best to get out of it. You didn’t bother trying to be careful, never wanting to see the torture device again. Reaching in, you grabbed the first dress you could find. Lilac was not a colour you were often given over to wearing, but you supposed it was the best you had. You opened the window, throwing your heels outside into the garden, your feet thanking you for it.

Padding downstairs on bare feet, you found the Witch curled up in the chair, a book open in her lap. A bunny hopped past and you found yourself smiling.

“Señor Scratchy likes you,” she said without even glancing up from the page she was reading.

“You have a pet bunny?” you asked.

“Every witch has to have a familiar,” she replied.

“Is that a rule or a guideline?” you wondered.

Her gaze finally dragged up to you and something in it darkened, sweeping over you in her dress. You froze but her grin was pleased.

“Well, aren’t you a vision in purple,” she purred.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

Lingering by the stairs you let her look her fill. Your weight shifted from foot to foot, not quite sure what she’d be expecting from you. It was your wedding night. You knew how these things usually went.

“Do you cook?” she asked once she was done.

“Do I…? I can,” you answered.

“Good because I’ve been missing that skill for more years than is polite,” she said.

“I can do that,” you said, nodding to yourself.

The kitchen was small and pokey, washing up needing to be done before you could even begin cooking. Having something to do with your hands made it easier being in that cottage. You could focus on that rather than the woman in the other room.

She was nothing like you’d expected. She was hardly the horrifying figure of legend you’d spent your entire life hearing about. She wasn’t even particularly mean as far as you could tell. Disarming, flirty, overwhelming, sure. She was all those things. But not horrifying.

You passed her a plate of food once you were done, doing your best with the ingredients you could find. She didn’t look up, taking it from you, fingers picking at the food. You lowered yourself onto the rug in front of the fire, eating your own meal.

“Not bad,” she muttered, mouth half full of food.

You looked up from the flickering flames, watching her eat. She hardly had the manners that had been drilled into you by your mother. Eating with her hands, she tore through the meat with her teeth, looking half wild. Her eyes were roving over the pages of her book, not paying you any attention.

The sky had darkened outside the window, the only light coming from the lamp lit beside her and the fire you were sitting in front of. The light played over the planes of her face, cheeks sunk beneath sharp cheekbones, eyes shadowed, skin pale. She truly was beautiful.

Maybe you could make this marriage work.

“You’re staring,” Her voice was a low rumble.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Just say whatever is going through your pretty little head,” she said, finally looking up at you.

She pinned you under her gaze. Her tongue dragged along her lips, and you found yourself considering all the things that tongue could do. Your cheeks flamed and you had to remind yourself this was a woman who went out of her way to hurt people.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” you blurted out.

“Were you hoping for some wizened old crone?” she asked.

“The stories were hazy. No one’s seen you in a while,” you replied, “and you’ve been around a while so…”

“So you naturally assumed I would be ravaged by the hands of time,” she said, “aren’t you lucky I wasn’t.”

You pressed your lips together, fingers wringing at your skirts. You hadn’t anticipated flirting. You hadn’t prepared for it. You hadn’t figured out how to respond to it.

“Aren’t you just adorable,” she hummed, “I promise I’ll make you a very happy wife.”

The implication of her words sent a spark of heat through your veins, right between your legs. If she kept talking in that voice, it would be so easy to ignore all the evil acts she’d done and let her have her way with you. No one in your town had ever elicited this reaction in you.

“Yes, that’s the look,” she said, “I picked well.”

She settled back in her chair, smirking at you. You ducked your head, not able to handle her scrutiny. Although, if the way your heart was racing was any indication, the wedding night with your new bride wouldn’t be as bad as you’d thought it would be.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you stood, collecting her empty plate from the arm of her chair. Washing up, you ignored the sound of her in the other woman. This was hardly the life you were expecting to have for yourself. Even in the last 24 hours, you’d grown used to the idea of spending your life with a hag whose company you could never enjoy.

The Witch had turned out to be both beautiful and charming, if not incredibly disarming.

“Come here, hon,” she called through the door.

On unsure feet, you returned to her. She was standing by the fire, staring down into it. You paused behind her, waiting.

“It’s been a long day. You must be tired,” she said.

“I suppose,” you said.

“Come on. Bed time.”

Her hand slipped into yours, tugging you up the stairs. Anticipation curled in your stomach. It wouldn’t be so bad. You might even enjoy it. With the Witch. And not the hag you’d been expecting. There would be no need to close your eyes and think of something else as she got on with it.

“Here,” she said, shoving a gauzy piece of fabric at you.

“You want me to change?” you asked, staring down at it.

“Unless you want to sleep in that dress, but I promise you that will be more comfortable,” she said.

“Oh.”

“Sleep well, hon,” she said, one foot already on the top stair.

“You’re not staying?” you asked.

She paused, eyes sweeping over you.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you should get your rest,” she said.

She left you standing by the bed, clutching a negligee, wondering what you’d done wrong. Trying to ignore your disappointment, you changed into the nightdress, the lace and gauzy material sexier than anything you’d owned back home. You left those thoughts, slipping into the large bed. It was comfortable, more so than you’d been expecting, the blankets soft and warm, the sheets smooth. Laying your head on one of the pillows, you stared up at the ceiling.

Many hours passed, alone in the bed, ears straining for the sound of the Witch down below. The stairs creaked as she climbed them, padding on soft feet. You closed your eyes, not wanting to be caught disobeying orders. The soft thump of fabric hitting the floor, a shuffle, and then the mattress was dipping beside you.

“Does the bed not meet your standards?” she asked into the darkness.

You sighed, eyes blinking open.

“It’s very comfortable,” you said.

“Were you waiting for me?”

The bed shifted. Her warmth brushed against you and a hand slid over your waist. You stiffened, then forced yourself to relax. This was more what you were expecting. Touches and a bed and the cover of darkness.

“Relax, hon,” she whispered, the hand retreating.

You turned your head, staring at her in the darkness. She rolled over, presenting her back to you, leaving you nothing back dark hair to look at. You watched her breathe for a moment.

“What should I call you?” you whispered across the distance.

“What?” She rolled to look at you.

“I can’t keep calling you the Witch,” you said, “I don’t know your name.”

“Huh.” She rolled back to where she was before, not giving you an answer.

You watched her for a moment more before you sighed. Rolling over, keeping your back to her, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax.

“Agatha,” she whispered. You froze, “my name is Agatha.”

You settled down, holding her name close to your heart, like it was something precious. No one in town knew her name. This was just for you.

From that day you settled into some kind of routine with Agatha. You’d wake early while she luxuriated in bed long after the sun had risen. You’d clean and cook and tend to the garden, doing all you could to turn her cottage into a home. Agatha would swan in and out of the house, sometimes gone for hours, singing under her breath, or muttering curses.

In the evenings, she’d curl up in her chair and you’d sit on the rug, whiling away the hours in companionable silence. You’d embroider or begin the process of drying herbs, or stare at the flames as you thought with Señor Scratchy in your lap.

You hadn’t been back to town, nor had you heard from your family. They’d well and truly abandoned you the moment you’d said I do. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you wanted to see them. They’d given you up so easily and clearly weren’t missing you. In your cottage deep within the Westview Woods, you were comfortable and safe and calm. You knew your place and you were never forced to do anything you didn’t want to do.

Sometimes you’d catch Agatha watching you. Blue eyes peering out the window as you worked at taming the garden or glancing up from a book as you cuddled with Señor Scratchy. Each time it made you self conscious but you never asked her about it. The relationship was tenuous at best. You didn’t want to upset her.

She would still flirt with you and she still seemed to gain enjoyment from flustering you. But she wasn’t doing anything to treat you like a real wife. You had no clue what it was she was getting out of this arrangement other than a maid. If that was what she’d wanted, she could have just asked for it. The wedding wasn’t necessary.

And yet you were her wife and you would be until one of you died.

It took about a month before you cracked open one of her books one night. You had no idea what she could be reading and your curiosity got the better of you in a moment of boredom. Looking down at the page, the incomprehensible symbols made no sense to you. Flicking through more and more pages, you tried to understand.

“Interested in magic?” she asked.

Startled, you dropped the book. Apologising, you snatched it up, turning to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, night pressing in behind her, returned from wherever it was she disappeared to for those long hours. There was an errant leaf tangled in her hair. Standing, she froze as you reached out, tugging it free and throwing it behind her, out the door.

You hadn’t realised how close you’d gotten to her. Her face was so close to yours you could count the shades of blue in her eyes. Your breath froze in your chest and you stilled.

“It’s not safe to learn magic on your own,” she whispered, reaching for the book in your hand.

You let her take it without argument, a sense of shame from being caught reminding you how this conversation had started. You stepped away from her, putting distance between the two of you. After weeks together, you thought her ability to fluster you with just her presence were gone, but your heart was thundering and you felt breathless.

“If you’re looking for a mentor, I’m more than happy to teach you,” she said, voice softening.

“You’d teach me magic?” you asked.

“What are wives for?” she said, sweeping into the room, depositing the book on top of a tilting stack. If the way you were feeling was any indication, wives were for a lot more than teaching magic.

She settled you on the rug, taking her usual place in her chair. At her feet, you gazed up at her, trying to ignore the way there was a throbbing between your legs and fire in your veins. She reached out, taking your hand, delicate fingers manipulating it until it was in a position that met her approval.

“Alright, the first thing you should know is that your power comes from deep within you. Not everyone has enough to create even a spark of magic. Do not feel disappointed if you can’t. It takes a very special woman to do even the most simple of magic,” she said.

“You must be the most special woman in the world then,” you said, looking at the point where her hand met yours.

When she didn’t respond to you, you looked up. She was staring down at you, something unreadable in her eyes you hadn’t seen before.

“I suppose I am,” she replied, but it wasn’t with the cocky little tilt of her head you’d grown used to, “now, burrow down deep into yourself. Find that well of power, see what you have.”

You closed your eyes, feeling her finger stroke over the palm of your hand, trying to find what she was talking about. All you found was the fire she brought out in you, the anger still simmering at your family, the disappointment and hurt you’d been carrying for longer than you could count at your place in the world. It was why you kept your hands busy, refusing to look too deeply into the way your family had let you down.

It burnt. Lingering on it hurt. The scars left on your soul were sore to the touch. You pressed harder. The pain, at least, was a relief from the feeling of shame you carried with you at all hours of the day.

“Well, would you look at that.”

You blinked your eyes open, finding light reflected in Agatha’s eyes. Cradled in the palm of your hand was a pale blue energy, roiling and rolling in the air. Your mouth fell open, staring at it, trying to wrap your head around what you had done.

It flickered out.

“Apparently I’m not the only special woman in this house,” Agatha murmured.

You cheeks heated, eyes widened as you stared up into her face. She lent forward, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, soft and gentle, barely there, making you shiver.

“Yes, I chose very well,” she said, drawing back.

Under her assessing gaze, you did it again and again and again, until your head began to hurt. She put you to bed, tucking you in, fingers gently running through your hair until you fell asleep. Just a month ago, you could have never imagined being treated so comfortingly by her.

So began the next phase of your routine. Your days were your own but your nights were Agatha’s. In front of the fire, sitting at her feet, a desperate need to please her, she taught you to wield and control your own power. Her murmured praises and her soft touches made your head spin, addictive and heady, only spurring you on for more.

Watching from the window one afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the boughs of the trees above, you focused on Agatha wandering through the garden. You’d tidied it since arriving, giving it more order, planting things you found out in the forest to go with what you already found strangled under the weeds. Your hands had been in the dirt, coaxing life back into the garden.

She bowed her head over a flower, you thought maybe smelling it. A smile bloomed over your own face, watching her as she moved around the garden. She was so gentle with the plants, pausing occasionally to look at the work you’d done. You wished you knew what she was thinking but she was always so enigmatic. You never knew what was going on behind her eyes.

When she returned to the cottage, a flower was clutched in her hand, petals soft, a new bloom. You looked up from the book she’d asked you to read, legs curled beneath you, skirt pushed up around your knees to bring some cool air to your skin. Spring had well and truly arrived.

“Are you working for me?” she purred.

You nodded, watching her swaying hips as she approached. All those touches and all that praise had only made it harder to pretend as if she didn’t set you alight. She crouched in front of you. With careful fingers, she tucked the flower behind your ear. Your breath caught. She tilted your chin up, the touch of her fingers against your skin making you heat again. Her eyes roved over your face, drinking you in.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

It was like being pierced by an arrow. You would have fallen into her in that moment, the words begging for a kiss tingling on your lips. Before they could spill out, she stood, leaving you on the rug, breathless and wanting.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” she said, turning from you.

Her skirt fanned out around her calves and just the flash of skin had your mouth drying. It wasn’t as if you’d seen the sight before, but every time it only made you more desperate to see more. It took a moment for her words to make sense to you.

“You are?” you asked, scrabbling to your feet.

“I’m afraid so,” she said, fingers tracing over the spines of some of her books, “I have business in the next town over. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” you said, voice small.

“You might want to go visit your family while I’m gone. You must be missing them,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Aw, don’t pout, kitten,” she said, curling her arm around your waist as she turned back to you, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her hand burned through the thin fabric of your dress. It was these touches that drove you mad. You always wanted more, to feel that touch on every inch of your body. She pulled you closer, soft curves pressing against yours in a way that had your head reeling.

“Try not to miss me too much,” she said before releasing you.

You could only watch as she moved back to the door. She lingered in the doorway, snatching one last look at you before she swept out of the cottage. Despite the fire roaring and the sun streaming in through the window, you felt suddenly cold.

The days stretched without Agatha in the cottage. The bed was too big and although you could sit in the chair before the fire at night rather than the hard flagstones beneath the rug, it left you feeling unsettled. You lazed through the days, perking up at every little sound, hope climbing up your throat only to be crushed back down when it wasn’t her return.

When the storm swept in, you felt the first pangs of worry. Sequestered in the house, you were climbing the walls, not able to drown your worry in work in the garden. The cottage was clean and there was only so much folding and refolding of clothes you could do before you began to question your sanity.

Lying in bed, you did your best to keep your thoughts away from Agatha. With the storm raging outside, it was easy to conjure images of her getting hurt or stranded, flashes of lightning striking her down too far away for you to find her and bring her home. You tossed and turned, the bed feeling huge and empty and cold without Agatha in it with you.

A crash from downstairs had you jolting up. You froze, listening intently. Another bang. Crawling to the edge of the bed, your heart was thundering, fear seeping into your veins. Sneaking to the top of the stairs, you peeked down.

A shadowed figure was standing in front of the fire, burnt down to their embers. You grasped the closest heavy object, a candlestick fancier than anything else in the cottage that you’d never quite built up the courage to ask about, and crept down the stairs. The figure didn’t seem to hear you, bending to stoke the flames. Raising the candlestick above your head, you swung.

A pale hand whipped out in a flash of lightning, grasping your wrist. The candlestick clattered to the floor. You gasped.

“This wasn’t quite the warm welcome home I was hoping for,” Agatha said.

“You’re back,” you said, breathless, heart thumping for a whole new reason.

“You weren’t expecting someone else, were you?”

You threw yourself into her arms, not even bothering to answer her. The joy at her reappearance in your cozy cottage was overwhelming. She chuckled, catching you, pressing her face to the top of your head.

“Now this is more what I was hoping for,” she said.

She trembled in the cage of your arms. Pulling back, you realised she was completely soaked through, wet hair stuck to her skin in a tangle. Her clothes were plastered to her and she was shivering. You ran your hands down her arms, feeling the goosebumps, grasping her hands.

“You’re freezing,” you said, “come here and warm up.”

You sat her down in her chair, stoking the fire until the flames began to blaze again. You turned, finding her gaze locked on you. It was dark and dangerous, roving over you with a level of possession you weren’t used to. Your knees trembled, turning to jelly as she drank her fill.

Glancing down, you realised your negligee was clinging to your body, wet from the embrace you’d given her, see through in all the places you weren’t sure you wanted it to be. Your eyes met hers again, your shiver nothing to do with the rain water seeping into your skin. Her tongue ran along her lower lip, stealing your breath.

“You should get out of those wet clothes,” you whispered.

“Is that an offer, hon?” she asked.

You’d missed her. You wanted her. And from the way she was looking at you, she wanted you too. So why not take what you wanted? She certainly had when she’d demanded a wedding.

“Yes.”

Her face brightened before it settled into something more predatory. Holding a hand out to you, she pulled you towards her. You fell into her lap, a small squeak on your lips. Her hand slid up your thigh, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

You lent forward, capturing her lips in an all consuming kiss. She growled, hands grasping you, dragging you closer. You whimpered into her mouth, hands clutching at her shoulders. She burned beneath you, every point of contact making you quiver. Her lips were searing hot as they made their way down the column of your neck. Your head tipped back, giving her more access, fingers burying themselves in her hair. Her name was a breathy moan on your lips. When her teeth sunk in, you groaned, pressing her closer.

“We’ve been married for months,” you murmured, breathless, desperate for her.

“We have,” she said, whispered into her skin.

Her tongue ran over your skin. You forgot what you were saying, luxuriating in the feeling of her worshipping your neck. Her hand was pushing up past the hem of your negligee, seeking out warm skin.

“You were saying, hon?” she asked, lips brushing your skin.

“Oh uh…” Her fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, “just that you…”

“I?” she murmured, finding the vulnerable spot behind your jaw.

“You never asked me to fulfil my wifey duties,” you sighed.

“I’m not a monster who forces young women to got to bed with me when they don’t want to,” she said before her lips closed over your earlobe.

“But I did want to,” you sighed, “I do.”

“So I’m gathering, hon,” she said.

You kissed her again, already addicted to her taste. With arms stronger than you were expecting, she lifted you, laying you down on the rug you’d spent so many evenings on. The fire was warm from so close, the air heating the chill of the night. A clap of thunder boomed above the house. You jumped, before laughing, self conscious at your own reaction. Her smile was fond.

“You know, when I gave you this nightie, I was hoping you’d look as delicious as I’d imagined,” she said, one hand stroking down your side, “it looks even better when it’s wet.”

She drew back, looking down at you. The front was completely soaked through, practically baring you to her faze. You shivered, breath stuttering. The look in her eye suggested she wanted to eat you alive. Her hand stroked between your breasts, pressing against your stomach when you wriggled beneath her.

“Stay still, pet. I’m enjoying my new wife,” she said.

Both hands cupped your breasts through the lace and silk of the dress you were in. Each nipple was already peaked, pebbling from the chilled water you’d had pressed against your skin. Palming them, she watched your face. You whimpered, not used to someone else touching you like this.

“You make such pretty noises for me, pet,” she said right as she pinched your nipples.

Your back arched up into her touch, offering yourself to her. Your hands grasped her hips, breathing coming fast.

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, watching you writhe under her touch.

“No,” you sighed.

“Really?” She sat back to look at you, a look of pleasure passing over her face, “I’ll be your first?”

“No one ever made me want to before,” you replied, pushing your hands under her skirts, wanting to feel her skin. It was as soft as you’d imagined, the muscles of her thighs strong under your palms.

“You are a gift,” she said before swooping in to kiss you again.

You lost yourself in it, your entire body a live wire underneath her. She hummed when your hands delved further up her skirt, the fabric still heavy with rain. You pulled away, ignoring the displeased noise she made.

“I wasn’t kidding about getting you out of these wet clothes. You’ll catch your death,” you said.

“Well, if you insist.”

She stood, pulling the dress over her head. In the firelight, she was nothing but enticing shadows and soft curves. You stared, overwhelmed with how beautiful she was. You could spend the rest of your life looking at this view. Pushing up onto your elbows, you let your gaze travel over her, practically drooling. You pressed your thighs together.

“Do I pass muster?” she asked.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” you breathed.

Something shifted in her face, almost as if you’d surprised her. In the shadows, you couldn’t be sure, but you thought her cheeks might be flushed. She lowered back onto her knees, straddling your waist. Your hands skimmed over her ribs, feeling her inhale beneath your fingertips. You cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms.

“I think it’s only fair that I return the favour,” she said, “after all, I got you all wet.”

Your cheeks heated and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, but you let her peel the negligee from your body, throwing it aside. Her hands were everywhere, barely touching you. Your whimper only had her grinning down at you.

“Use your words, pet,” she said.

“Touch me,” you begged, “please, Agatha.”

“All you had to do was ask,” she said before her hands were back on your body.

Her lips were soon to follow after, wrapping around one nipple. Your strangled moan only seemed to spur her on. The rumble of a groan vibrated through your body and you arched up into her mouth.

Her hands were sliding further down your body and you felt on fire. When she began to press kisses to your sternum, making her way down your body, you gasped. Her hands were gently as they parted your legs, settling between them. You had no idea how she was doing it, but your entire body was a live wire, sending you insane with how good it felt.

“I need you to tell me if you’re about to change your mind,” she said, her lips pressing the crease of your thigh, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop once I’ve tasted you.”

“If you stop you can go back out into that storm right now,” you said.

“I knew I chose right.”

Your head fell back as her tongue made contact with the hot throbbing between your legs. You cursed, loud enough to be heard over the thunder still crashing up above, and your hips jumped up into her mouth. Her talent didn’t just lie in magic, although it felt pretty magical whatever it was she was doing. You gave yourself over to it, uncaring that you were being too loud or too desperate. Nothing had ever felt as good as her mouth on you.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, holding her there, hips undulating. When her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves you knew resided between your thighs, you made a choked noise, her name unintelligible. She was moaning, the vibrations driving you crazy, spinning higher and higher. Your legs were trembling where they rested over her shoulders.

When the dam broke, you screamed, clutching at her. Looking up your body, she caught your eye, the smouldering burning in her gaze only making you wonder what she would look like when you returned the favour. She drew back, her grin very satisfied despite you being the boneless body on the rug.

“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” you whispered.

“You’ve never…?” she asked.

“Never like that,” you said.

The fingers in her hair tugged her up your body. Your legs curled around her waist as you kissed her, tasting yourself on her tongue. She chuckled, drawing away, fingers running over your lower lip.

“You are a wonder,” she said, “I knew you would be that first time I saw you.”

“When did you see me?” you asked, sure you’d remember if you’d seen her before the wedding.

“I’d heard rumours of the town beauty, grown into a woman of marriageable age. The way the men were hoping to own you. I’ll admit I was curious. And then, there you were, wandering through my woods, a basket of flowers on your arm. I happened to be passing by as you stopped to speak to a lovely little bunny and I knew I had to have you,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m never wrong about these things.”

“So that’s why you asked for me specifically,” you mused.

“I wanted the prettiest girl in the village,” she said before she swooped down to kiss you again. For a while, you could get lost in it.

“Agatha,” you sighed when her lips began to trace a path down your neck again.

“Come, pet. I’ve had a long journey and I’m tired. I’d much rather sleep in our bed,” she said.

She rose, holding a hand out to you. You grasped it, letting her haul you to your feet. Stumbling you fell against her body, warm skin against warm skin, making your head spin. She slipped her arm around your waist, holding you close.

She swept you up into her arms, carrying you up the stairs. Depositing you on the bed, you stared up at her until she slipped between the sheets, taking the place that had been empty for too many days. She held her arms open to you, letting you curl against her her side.

“I’m glad you chose me to be your wife,” you whispered, face buried in the place her shoulder met her throat.

“As am I, hon,” she murmured, lips pressing to the top of your head.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax properly for the first time since she’d left. Her fingertips were trailing over your skin, stroking in a comforting rhythm. You were on the edge of sleep when you heard her soft whisper.

“I didn’t expect you to stay.”

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head up towards her. She was already gazing down at you, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I gave you leave to return to your family. I was expecting to find our home empty upon my return,” she said.

“But we’re married,” you said.

“That’s never stopped a woman before,” she replied.

“Why would I choose my family when I have you? They’d never forgive me for leaving you. They gave me no choice in my future,” you said, “I don’t want to ever see them again.”

“They didn’t?” Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“They told me I’d be marrying you. There was no discussion, no understanding that perhaps I didn’t want this.” You shifted closer to her, legs tangling together, “stupid girl. How could I ever not want you?”

“I’m a centuries old witch that terrorises local towns?” she suggested.

“Maybe, but you’re my witch,” you said, “and more importantly, you’re my wife. And I choose you. I didn’t like when you were gone. I was counting down the minutes you’d return.”

“Next time, would you like to come with me?” she asked.

“Please,” you said.

“Then you will,” she replied.

Your lips brushed her skin as you settled against her again, closing your eyes, kissing the closest part of her. Her breath hitched and she tightened her arms around you. Holding her close, you sighed, letting yourself relax again. With her home you had nothing to worry about anymore.

“More fool your parents for handing over the only person who could bring me to my knees,” she murmured, so soft you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it.

Slipping closer to sleep, comforted by the sounds of her breath and the warmth of her skin, you thought maybe being forced to marry the Witch of the Westview Woods was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[wandaslittlelove]

Hi, can you write something where Nicky gets lost in the forest and Rio and Agatha are desperately looking for him, or they find him with a witch in the forest and she's playing and showing her magic to him and it's cute? Please?

Witch in the Woods

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader Warnings: Reader has Antlers like a deer

Agatha and Rio laid on their makeshift bed. Both of their eyes closed as they let themselves enjoy each other's embrace. The sun was setting in the distance as the small fire crackled and burned. The woods were quiet and still. Wait quiet?

Agatha shot up with frantic eyes as she looked at her surroundings causing Rio to let out a grunt as she was pushed over.

“Nicky? Nicky!” Agatha yelled as she couldn’t find or hear him. She stood quickly, Rio quickly following as she realized why Agatha had gotten up so suddenly.

“Nicky!” they both called as they ran a bit further into the forest. They both paused when they heard him laugh and quickly followed. They froze before they could get too close though.

There in a small clearing was Nicky laughing and smiling at a girl they had never met. He was surrounded by white butterflies that seemed to almost dance around him. Both of their eyes drifted to you. Your hands were raised and fingers moving slightly as white danced around your finger tips. You wore a carefree smile as you watched the boy dance with your creations.

The two watched silently for a while. Watched as you continued to show him the magic that was coursing through you and the smile that seemed to grow every time you showed him something new.

Rio stepped forward slightly causing a twig to snap. Your’s and Nicky’s heads both snapped towards the sound. Your instinct was immediate. You stood up quickly and positioned yourself in front of the boy. You glared at the two women as you stood protectively. With you facing them they could clearly see your features now. You have a pair of small antlers on your head and small speckles on your cheeks.

“Mom! Mama!” Your body relaxed slightly as Nicholas ran over to his mothers. Agatha immediately pulled him into a tight hug as Rio glanced over his body making sure he wasn’t hurt. You watched the moment silently. The butterflies that once danced around Nicky came to rest on your shoulders.

“Who are you?” Rio demanded. In all of her life she had never seen you before. Or someone that had your powers.

“I- I am a Animal witch.” Agatha furrows her eye’s at your words. She had never heard of an animal witch before.

“What’s your name?” She spoke as she took a small step towards you. Silence involved the small clearing as you didn’t answer. 

“She asked you a question” Rio Spoke as she also stepped forwards.

“I do not have a name.” There was a pause once more. “I’m sorry if I startled you. Your boy had wandered into the clearing and was lost. I figured someone would come looking for him and it’s always best to stay in one spot. So I tried to distract him”

“Mom look what she can do!” Nicky had run back over to you and grabbed your hand slightly pulling. “Show them, show them!” You smiled at the boy. With a soft wave of your hand white light covered your fingers and suddenly a doe popped out of the bushes. It walked up to Nicky slowly before sniffing him. Letting him pet it for a minute then gave you a glance and walked back into the forest. “Isn’t it cool!”

Both of the other witches looked on with awe in their eyes.

“Where is your coven?” The question seems to make you uncomfortable and with eyes downcast you answer.

“I do not have one.” Rio glances over you once more before a memory comes rushing back to her.

It was early morning when she had been called to collect a large number of bodies. The town had been burned to the ground and there were little to no survivors. It took her almost an hour to collect everyone and when she thought she was done she heard a cry. Turning she looked around the room until her eyes spot something moving in the corner. Making her way over there she finds an infant. The baby's skin was spotted and there were lumps on her head with something growing from them. Rio picked the baby up careful and noted how much it resembled a deer. She knew you wouldn’t survive her so she took you to were a mother deer had just had her babies. She placed you down gently and waited. It took a moment but the mother deer took to you quickly.

“You should come with us.” Rio spoke. Agatha looked at her in shock. “She has no coven and Nicky clearly likes her”

[multific]

Long Live The Empress of Rome

Emperor Geta x Sorceress!Reader

Summary: You promised to keep him safe. It was part of your job as his wife. And in return, you received his heart and the power you always wanted. 

A/N: This contains spoilers for the movie! This is also an AU fiction.

Ever since you were little you had powers.

One might think you were a Goddess. And they wouldn't be far off.

You could hear people's thoughts and control the elements.

Throughout your life, you have perfected these powers.

You hid them well from most people. 

But you were unable to hide it from The Emperor.

While you were rather calm, a storm raged inside you. Behind your calm and collected demeanour, you were actually quite the opposite.

Emperor Geta was not like that.

He mostly pretended to be sane, but he truly had no reason to.

He and his brother led an empire that wasn't kind.

But you enjoyed it.

Sometimes, Rome was exactly how you felt on the side.

Rotten to the core.

You liked it.

And you liked the Emperors.

Mostly Emperor Geta.

Who was not shy about showing you just how much he liked you. 

His interest in you was beyond interesting. 

Of course, he was used to having women around, but you, you were different.

And soon, you became his biggest obsession.

A simple woman he thought you were, but your beauty and wit were undeniable. 

It came to you as no surprise that he took a liking to you. What did surprise you, however, was that you also felt the same way.

It's not like you weren't interested in men before, and sometimes even women. But Geta was different.

So different from everyone.

You liked that.

He matched you perfectly.

He claimed you to be his wife the second time you met him.

Your wedding was just as grand as the crowning of the Emperors. 

"My Beautiful Empress," he whispered as the priest declared you wife and husband in front of the Gods.

And so, you became the Empress to Emperor Geta.

Emperor Caracalla on the other hand was not as fond of you. He often claimed a dark and cold chill running down his spine whenever he saw you. Little did he know the truth.

Geta fell in love with you.

He liked your cold demeanour and your hidden rage.

He liked you for you.

Not your powers or beauty. Although beauty was a major factor in getting your hand in marriage.

Later on, he found out about your powers when you were attacked one night.

Even his soldiers couldn't stop the angry people who wanted nothing more than to kill.

Geta watched as you murdered them all, with a simple move of your finger all of them fell to the ground.

Your husband found out your true self.

"The Gods sent me a Goddess. A Goddess of my own, My Wife." 

Rumours of a Dark Empress began to spread, but that is all they were in the eyes of most, rumours.

There you were, sitting next to him in the Colosseum. 

Enjoying the blood and games.

Some gladiators were more promising than the next.

The Emperors enjoyed the games and so did you.

Macrinus sat right behind you, you heard whispers from his thoughts.

A plan.

A sinister plan to overthrow your husband and his brother.

But you smirked, knowing he was not aware of your full potential.

Macrinus truly thought you were going to be the easiest to take out from the bunch. He formed a very complicated plan for the overthrow of the Emperors while he hired men to kill you. 

You slightly turned your head and offered him a look. He nodded his head, thinking you were praising him for his newest Gladiator.

You watched as the rhino ran into the wall, grabbing your husband's hand you turned to whisper into his ear.

"I wish to heal the animal."

"Whatever My Sweet Wife wishes." he kissed the back of your hand.

Even if you didn't like people, you loved animals.

After the games, you retrieved into your home, back to your room.

"Crimes are being committed against us. Right in front of our eyes," you said as Geta closed the door behind himself.

"What did you hear?"

"Macrinus has a plot. A sinister and twisted plot. He wishes to rule."

"Treason!"

"I will deal with him. Do not worry yourself with peasants like him, My Love."

"What would I do without you?"

"You would be beheaded." you smiled and he wanted to laugh but the seriousness of your tone changed his mind very fast.

"Will there be blood?" he asked, hope-filled in his voice.

You nodded, and his smile grew. 

"Lots of blood. But not ours, nor your brother's." 

"Long live the Empress," he said as he leaned in to kiss you, but just as he was about to, you spoke.

"Long live us," you replied before pulling him in for a kiss.

---

The next morning you woke up, and your husband was still asleep.

You headed to the balcony, taking in the smell of smoke.

You grabbed onto the railings, everyone's thoughts filled your mind, and you often found it to be overwhelming.

Hearing everyone's thoughts, some people were louder while others were quieter.

You weren't sure why that was, it was all you ever knew. 

Geta's thoughts were usually silent, even his most wicked ones, you used to struggle to be able to read his thoughts until you gave up. It was rare but it did happen from time to time in the past. 

You can sometimes hear words from him but not full sentences. 

But you didn’t have to hear them to know what he was thinking. 

A word you constantly heard was “Beautiful.”

Simple. 

Kind. 

You love him. 

But even with powers like Gods, it could become too much to handle. In those moments, Geta was always there by your side.

As if he knew you needed some reassurance.

And this time was no different. 

He soon pulled you close and hugged you from behind.

"Is My Wife happy?" 

"I am." you truly were.

"What will you do with Macrinus?"

"I spoke with your brother, and warned him of the plan, I suspect he was too drunk to remember so I sent him a dream. I'm sure he understands, he usually does."

"And what about the Poet Gladiator?"

"Lucius? He claims he wants to free Rome." you turned around in his arms. "But Rome will never be free. During the games today, I have a special plan for the lost prince of Rome." you lifted your hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm sure you will like it."

And he did.

Killing four birds with one stone.

Lucius, his mother, Acacius and Macrinus. 

What a delight it truly was.

Unfortunately, the tiger seemed too big of a task for the men, trying to save Lucilla. 

A completely normal tiger at that... of course, you had no hand in the matter. 

And Macrinus? 

For being a traitor, his head was placed by the walls of Rome. Setting an example to all who dare even think about overthrowing the Emperors.

"My Love. My Beautiful Wife." as he stood in front of you, out on your balcony, the moon lit the night as you heard the people or Rome riot, all you could think of was how beautiful his eyes were.

As he looked at you with the most love.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Maybe one with bunny!hyrbid!reader and Natasha “adopts” her and just fucks the shit out of her with her strap (or her real cock if you prefer to write that)

Run Rabbit Run

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!bunny!hybrid!reader x owner!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha can’t help but grant her bunny all her little wishes

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), ownership, size kink, strap on, artificial cum, slight breeding kink, pillow humping, slight somno, masturbation, crying during it,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What to do with all the money you make as an Avenger? That was a question Natasha had ask herself more times than she could count. Sure currently was her monthly pay check and all the money she made from interviews and social media was rotting away in her bank account, because she was never a fan of making herself gifts nor did she have time for it. But now with Easter just around the corner the Russian decided to not only do something against her overload on money but also against her loneliness.

She wanted a hybrid, not just some brainless pet but something that could actually understand her. The concept of owing a hybrid wasn't new of course it had been around for years, back in the days they actually hunted them from nature but nowadays there was no need after they got a hang of how to domesticate such a creature.

Natasha stepped foot in one of the only places in the whole of New York who sold these rare creatures- Tony had recommended it to her after once more bragging about his large collection. The over friendly employee showed her the different enclosures all while the employee tried to keep it together- after all you didn't see an Avenger daily not even when working for a prestigious company like she did.

Natasha first visited the cat hybrids, cute but too stubborn, then the dogs, too dependent, foxes were too clever for her taste though especially the polar foxes caught her eyes. Bears and any other large animals would be too much work and needed too much space. The right pick was right on her nose she wanted to get herself a bunny.

Standing in front of the enclosure which held you and a few of your companions Natasha and the employee stood, her gaze never leaving your body. You didn't alter much from a normal human, except for the fluffy bunny ears, little tail and over all smaller build you looked like any other girl. You were going to cost her a hefty amount of hard earned money but for your rare breed, Natasha couldn't care less about that in the moment. The way you stat there so carelessly reading some book which laid in her lap, made you different in her eyes more intelligent maybe? She wanted connection and not some braindead doll after all.

"The one in the pink collar… is she still to have?" Natasha asked the employee you gave her a quick nod. "Yes, she hasn't been here for long though the ones like her normally get adopted quite quickly." Nat only hummed in approval she couldn't wait to have you in her home. "I'll have her in a private kennel"

Meeting a potential owner made you nervous of course you had been trained to and prepared on how to act in such a situation, how to appeal to any potential owner - though you secretly hoped for a female buyer. You tried your best to hide your shy nature from the older woman who awaited you but Natasha found it charming how your, compared to your body, large floppy bunny ears hang low but twitched up when she spoke to you in a gentle manner.

Natasha approached the situation with a calm demeanour- she knew about the shy nature of a bunny like you. As soon as you were comfortable enough to approach her she started to pet over your smaller head with careful hands- and you loved it. By the end of your get to know each other you sat on the redhead's lap clinging on to her. But you weren't parted for long Natasha signed all the paperwork the same day and at the start of the next week you were able to move in with her.

She had given you a nice room, with many books, TV and games to entrain yourself with while she would be working. You came with the clothes from the centre, a basic white bluse, white skirt everything in white , like any other hybrid except for your coloured coded collar which adored your neck so the employees had an easier time keeping hybrids a part. Natasha started to take great joy in precisely choosing each outfit for you. Price didn't matter to Natasha, if she found something to be cute she bought it for you and Nat was known for expensive taste. Sooner or later your closet was fuller than hers, filled to the brim with shorts, blouses, floral summer dresses anything which had a playful feel to it.

Natasha was a busy woman though, often being away for days at a time, she normally made up with expensive gifts and extensive cuddling for her little bunny girl. But that hardly was enough to satisfy your need to be close to the older woman, not to mention that you were worried sick about your owner once you had found out that she wasn't a simple business woman but an avenger.

Natasha came home at around 3 AM after a long mission in Europe the jet lag and sleep deprive was killing her, and since she thought you'd already be asleep at such a late hour- and way past your agreed on bed time, she'd just go to sleep already. As soon as she had stripped to her underwear and her face had it the pillows she was dead asleep, little did she know that you weren't.

Next door you were awake, not only that but you were desperate. This had never happened before yet you immediately knew what it was. You had your first heat, and nothing helped, no toy's from the centre, no playing with yourself, no nothing. You had a pillow under your hips probed up at the seams you humped the pillow like your life depended on it.

You mewled as your already sensitive cunt graced over the edge of the pillow. You were close to cuming but you couldn't bring yourself over the edge. That's when you heard Natasha rummaging through the house you're floppy bunny ears twitching up to detect the source of the noise. You waited patiently in your room trying to find some sleep, maybe Natasha could help you out in the morning. But you could feels your juices sticking to the inside of your thighs.

With small steps you made it into Natasha's bed room tears of frustration already building in your eyes threatening to spill over your blushing cheeks. Carefully you climbed into her bed to find her in a deep slumber laying on her back. You sat down on her on her thigh your pussy making contact with her soft skin.

Slowly you started to rhythmically move it against the limp muscles of her thigh small whimpers falling from your throat in between the sobs of frustration paired with the cries of her name and the tears rolling down your cheek it made a whole picture.

Natasha peaceful face scrunched up in confusion of the sensation when she slowly woke from her slumber she was utterly distraught. Her sweet little bunny humping her thigh like a bitch in heat. With careful hands she stopped your hips and you immediately broke out into a new round of sobs and cries.

"Sheesh" she hushed you petting over over your low hanging ears "You're just in heat bunny, it'll be over soon" She assured you when you pressed your face into her neck. "I want it over now!" You cried out "what about the advice the centre gave you?" She tried but feeling you so desperate and need had an affect on her too.

"Doesn't work" You huffed out "I want you to play with me" Nat was startled by the request, was it morally right for her to sleep with you? It was the main point of criticism surrounding owing a hybrid, but what if not the owner but the hybrid wanted it. "Please" you whined and the assassin's strong will broke right there. "Wait here bunny I'll go get something" You nodded and released Natasha from your grace watching her go.

She came back with a noticeable bulge in her sleep shorts, which upon seeing made your thighs clench together. "It's not going to hurt bunny" She assured and got behind you pulling her shorts down to reveal her, to your body size massive, strap on. She pressed the fat tip against your entrance and your hooded eyes flew open in surprise at the shear size of the toy.

"Natty, it's to big" You mewled out your cotton tail twitching "It's not gonna fit" Natasha scoffed shaking her head as if you had just made an outrageous statement. "I'm gonna make it fit bunny" She pushed forward and your bunny hears flew up in surprise of the stretch. You hands dug into the soft pillow underneath your head as you whimpered in a mic of pain and pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried as she bottomed you out the stretch being much greater than you could've accomplished with your little fingers. "I'm gonna move now bunny" You nodded and felt her starting with a comfortable rhythm which made the pain turn into pleasure.

By your sweet moans she could tell how much you liked it and fastened her pace to finally give you what you wanted. With deep thrusts she stroked your G spot making you see stars as she too enjoyed the feeling of the strap running against her clit. You mewled out some words she couldn’t make out but took at as a sign of approval for her to keep going.

With both of her hands on your hips she forcefully slammed into your tight heat making sure to not actually hurt you. You arched your back one hand sneaking to your neglected bundle of nerves rubbing it in tight circles. “Fuck are you close?” Natasha asked there was a certain tiredness in her voice still. She clenched down harder on the silicone and mewled out “Yes, please”

“Fuck cum with me” with a few more fast thrusts you came first you’re juicing coating the lower stomach of the black widow. She had a surprise for you when you noticed a thick liquid gushing from the strap into your womb as she came. After having cum herself she pulled out to watch in an awe how the white cum was dripping from your stretched out hole.

After having cleaned you up Natasha could finally rest but not without you resigning on her chest of course. Call it what you wanted for Natasha those feelings of affection were real and of no ill intent she just did whatever you wanted to ensure happiness. With that thought and still cum dripping from your hole both you and Natasha fell asleep.

:)