#he is very protective over the forest too
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areislol · 10 hours ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyandere monster harem
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pairings. various m! yandere monsters x gn! reader
warnings. yandere themes, toxic obsession, 18+ dark themes
a/n. i love my sillies!!
wc. 6.1k
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imagine a dark, mystical forest where you're the lone human, fated to cross paths with a group of terrifying yet obsessively devoted monsters.
each of them is unique in their appearance and abilities, but they all share one thing: an unrelenting desire to make you theirs, no matter the cost.
the werewolf
a hulking figure with sharp claws, wild amber eyes, and a low growl that vibrates through your very bones. he encountered you when you wandered too close to his den during a full moon. despite his primal instincts, he resisted harming you, instead captivated by your bravery—or foolishness.
he tracks your scent everywhere you go. if you so much as step outside, he’s already following from the shadows, ensuring your safety (and warding off anyone who dares to come near).
he marks your belongings with his scent and doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth at anyone he deems a threat. you’re his mate, and he’ll challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.
though rough and wild, he becomes uncharacteristically gentle when he sees you hurt or scared, licking your wounds and curling protectively around you.
the werewolf is a wild, untamed force of nature, his obsession with you rooted in instincts so primal he can't suppress them even if he tried.
he watches you from the shadows, always nearby but rarely letting himself be seen at first. your scent drives him to madness—earthy, warm, uniquely you. it's comforting and addictive, and he can't get enough. he's stolen pieces of your life to keep close: a scarf left behind, a mug you drank from, anything that holds your essence.
his possessiveness is terrifying. he won't let anyone else near you if he can help it. if someone gets too close, he intervenes, his voice low and threatening, his golden eyes burning with barely concealed rage. no one dares challenge him; there's something in the way he moves, the way he looms, that screams danger.
he doesn't understand human boundaries. if you're speaking to someone too long, he'll step in, claiming he needs to talk to you or finding some excuse to drag you away. if you protest, he'll growl—not at you, never at you—but in frustration. you're his; why can't everyone else see that?
but with you, he's soft. gentle. when he's sure you're not afraid of him, he'll let you closer, let you see the man beneath the beast. his touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he's afraid he'll break you. when you're upset, he wraps himself around you, his warmth and presence enough to shield you from the world.
his affection shows in small ways. he brings you gifts from the forest: flowers, feathers, shiny rocks he thought you'd like. he watches your reaction closely, his heart swelling with pride when you smile. if you ever thank him, he becomes almost shy, looking away with a faint blush creeping up his neck.
jealousy is his constant battle. if he sees someone making you laugh or smile, his claws dig into his palms. he won't confront you about it, but the person who caused his jealousy might find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath later.
at night, he lingers near your home. the thought of you alone, unprotected, drives him crazy. he paces, his instincts screaming at him to stay close. sometimes, he leaves small signs that he's there—a paw print in the dirt, a tuft of fur snagged on a branch—as if he wants you to know he's watching over you.
his biggest fear is your rejection. he knows he's more beast than man, and the thought of you being afraid of him keeps him awake at night. if you ever flinch or pull away, it shatters him, and he'll retreat, his golden eyes filled with pain. but he always comes back, unable to stay away, his obsession too strong to overcome.
you are his anchor, his reason for fighting the beast within. he doesn't care what it takes; he'll keep you safe, even if it means keeping you all to himself. his love is overwhelming, suffocating, but he doesn't see it that way. to him, it's devotion—pure, unbreakable, eternal.
his growl rumbled low as kael draegon stepped from the shadows, his golden eyes fixed on you with that same wild, desperate intensity.
"don't be afraid," kael draegon whispered, his voice rough but steady as he offered you his hand. the cold breeze tugged at his hair as he stood beside you, his voice soft as he murmured, "you're safe now, with me."
kael draegon always seemed to appear just when you needed him, his presence both calming and terrifying. his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment before kael draegon pulled back, his voice almost apologetic. "old instincts, i'm sorry."
the vampire
elegant and poised, with glowing crimson eyes and a voice like silk, the vampire first saw you in the dead of night. he was drawn to the purity of your blood but became enthralled by the purity of your soul instead.
his pale, marble-like skin seems to glow faintly in the moonlight, untouched by time or imperfection. his crimson eyes burn with a smouldering intensity, framed by thick lashes that only add to his magnetic gaze.
his raven-black hair falls in soft, silky waves around his sharp cheekbones, perfectly complementing his aristocratic features. his tall, slender frame moves with a predatory grace, and his voice—smooth as velvet—wraps around you like a dark lullaby.
he loves to watch you sleep, marvelling at your vulnerability. He’ll slip into your room at night, not to harm you, but to leave gifts—a rose, a letter, or even a piece of jewellery from an unknown era.
the vampire despises anyone who captures your attention. Friends, family, or even strangers—they’re nothing but distractions. He may use his hypnotic gaze to erase their presence from your life.
he gets flustered when you show him kindness, like bandaging a wound he sustained in your defence. he tries to hide his blush, but his pale complexion betrays him.
the vampire is as elegant as he is dangerous, his presence suffocating yet alluring, like the pull of a siren's song on a lonely traveler at sea. his crimson eyes gleam in the dark, reflecting centuries of wisdom and hunger, but when he looks at you, they’re soft, desperate, and entirely devoted. you’re his obsession, his muse, his reason to exist in a world that has grown cold and lonely with age.
he first saw you during one of his midnight wanderings, his attention drawn by your scent, a sweet, intoxicating mix of vulnerability and warmth. you were an easy target at first—a stranger out on a walk, unassuming, untouched by the weight of the supernatural world. but then he watched you, from the shadows, and the hunger in him shifted. you weren’t just food, not in the way he expected. you were you.
his obsession grew quickly, a slow, crawling thing that nestled in his bones. he has a habit of appearing when you least expect it: slipping through your window as you sleep, standing at the end of a dark alley when you’re walking home, always close but never intrusive enough to harm you. he studies you with endless fascination, watching how you move, how you smile, how you react to the smallest moments of life. you are his everything.
he is a master manipulator, charming and patient, with a voice like silk and words that dance between honeyed promises and half-truths. he always knows just what to say, always seems to be exactly where you are, making sure you feel safe.
but beneath the charm is something ancient, something sharp—a predator who has learned how to play the long game to get what he wants. you are his, and he has all the time in the world to make sure you know it.
his jealousy is sharp and swift. the moment another person shows even the slightest interest in you, his eyes narrow, his smile turns colder. it doesn’t take much for him to make his presence known, weaving himself into your life, into your conversations, until the other person is left with nothing but fear or confusion. you are his, and he’ll ensure that no one else tries to stake their claim.
he doesn’t simply show his obsession through manipulation. he is far more intimate, far more human in the moments where he can let his guard down. he’ll leave you gifts—roses with petals as red as blood, antique trinkets from his many years of wandering, or old letters written in his perfect, flowing script.
he tries to convey his feelings subtly, his words wrapped in metaphors and promises, but they always come from the deepest part of his heart.
he’s possessive in the way only a centuries-old predator can be. he touches you often, with a hand to your cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, or lightly grazing your hand as if you might slip away at any moment.
he isn’t violent, not by nature, but his love is all-encompassing, wrapping itself around you like a snake squeezing its prey. you belong to him in every way, and he has no intention of letting you slip out of his grasp.
his dark powers allow him to watch you from afar, slipping into your dreams, invading the quiet moments of your subconscious. you’ll wake with his voice lingering in your mind, his whispers promises of eternity, of a life spent with him, of safety, beauty, and endless nights. he wants you to rely on him, to lean into his presence, to crave his touch, until you can’t imagine your life without him.
when you show kindness or affection toward him, his calm, elegant mask slips. his eyes soften, his voice trembles slightly, and he finds himself speechless.
he’s terrified of showing too much, of letting you see the raw hunger that lies beneath his smooth exterior, but he can’t stop himself. your smile, your laughter, it means everything to him, more than centuries of darkness and isolation ever could.
he would give you everything. his life, his immortality, his heart. but he struggles with the weight of his own nature—the bloodlust that lies just beneath his perfect, pale skin. he’s not just obsessed with you out of a need to control or dominate; he truly cares. he wants you safe, protected, happy. but his fear of losing you makes him cruel, calculating, and relentless.
you are his forever, and he has no intention of sharing you with anyone else, not with the world, not with time, not with destiny itself. his love is suffocating, but it is eternal, and as much as it terrifies him, he knows you’ll never escape his grasp. he’ll make sure of it.
his voice was like silk as dorian vale leaned against the window frame, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight
"you shouldn't be out here alone," dorian vale said smoothly, stepping closer, his voice as soft as a whisper. dorian vale’s gaze was piercing, unyielding, and you could feel every moment of his attention as he looked at you
he handed you a single red rose, his pale fingers delicate as he said, "for you, my dear.
his presence lingered, and you could feel dorian vale’s words in your bones as he whispered, "you were always meant to be mine."
the ghost
a shadowy figure with hollow eyes that glow faintly in the dark, the ghost is a tragic soul who found solace in your warmth. his attachment to you began when you unknowingly lingered in the house he haunts, speaking softly to the empty air as if sensing his presence.
alaric’s form is translucent, a faint, glowing silhouette that shifts and flickers like mist. his features are soft and hauntingly beautiful, with a melancholy that clings to him like a shadow.
his once-vivid eyes are now pale, like the reflection of a full moon in still water, and his long hair drifts around him as if caught in a gentle breeze. though incorporeal, he retains the faint shape of his elegant hands and tall, lean frame, an echo of the man he once was.
his presence feels like a cool touch on your skin, a constant, bittersweet reminder of his undying devotion.
he manipulates the environment to keep you close—doors creak shut when you try to leave, and objects mysteriously disappear, only to reappear where he wants you to stay.
if anyone hurts you, the ghost unleashes his wrath. lights flicker, temperatures drop, and your assailants are haunted until they’re too terrified to approach you again.
he’s deeply moved when you acknowledge him, even if it’s just a whisper to the air. your willingness to accept him, despite his incorporeal nature, solidifies his eternal devotion.
the ghost is a tragic, ethereal figure, bound to you by a love that death itself couldn’t sever. his form is translucent, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, and though he may no longer have a heartbeat, his emotions are as raw and overwhelming as they were in life. he exists in the liminal space between the living and the dead, obsessed with you in a way that is both haunting and heartbreakingly tender.
he doesn’t remember how or when it started—only that one day, he found himself drawn to you, unable to leave your side. whether it was your voice, your laughter, or the way you brought life to even the smallest, most mundane moments, you became his light in the suffocating darkness of his afterlife. he watches you from the corners of rooms, a faint chill in the air marking his presence, his spectral form always lingering just out of reach.
his love is quiet, but all-consuming. he whispers your name into the night when you sleep, his voice carried on the softest breeze. he rearranges small things in your home to make his presence known: a book left open to a meaningful passage, a flower you swore wasn’t there before resting on your windowsill. at first, it’s subtle—gentle signs that you’re never truly alone—but as his obsession deepens, the signs become harder to ignore.
jealousy eats away at him when others capture your attention. he can’t bear the thought of you being close to anyone else, of you laughing or smiling with someone who isn’t him. when you’re out, he follows you like a shadow, unseen but ever-present, and if someone gets too close, the air turns cold, the lights flicker, and an unshakable unease settles over them until they leave.
he craves your touch, but his incorporeal form makes it impossible. this frustrates him endlessly, and he spends nights lingering near you, reaching out as if he could somehow feel the warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart. his desperation leads him to try anything to bridge the gap between life and death, no matter the cost.
despite his possessiveness, he’s deeply protective. he uses his abilities to shield you from harm, warding off danger with an almost primal ferocity. if someone threatens you, they’ll find themselves plagued by unexplainable misfortunes—objects falling, shadows moving, and an unrelenting sense of being watched. he doesn’t harm them directly, but his presence is enough to terrify even the boldest.
when he speaks to you, it’s with a voice like the echo of a forgotten melody, soft and tinged with sorrow. he tells you things you shouldn’t know—secrets from your past, glimpses of your future, things only someone who’s been watching you so intimately could know. he wants you to feel his devotion, his undying love, even if it frightens you.
there’s a tragic loneliness to him. he knows he can never truly be with you, not in the way he desires, and this realization drives him to the edge of despair. his love is obsessive, yes, but it’s also painfully pure—an eternal yearning for a connection he can never fully have.
if you acknowledge him, his devotion only deepens. the smallest smile, a whispered “thank you” into the empty room, is enough to make his entire existence worthwhile. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are his only solace in an eternity of longing.
he follows you everywhere, unseen but ever-present, his translucent form flickering in the corner of your eye or casting a fleeting shadow against the wall. at first, his presence is subtle, almost unnoticeable: the faint creak of floorboards when no one else is home, a cold breeze brushing against your skin, the lingering feeling that someone is watching you. but as his obsession deepens, his presence grows stronger, more impossible to ignore.
he learns everything about you. the way you hum absentmindedly when you’re focused, the scent of your favorite tea, the books you read late into the night. he listens to the sound of your heartbeat as you sleep, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a state of peace he hasn’t felt since he was alive. he treasures these moments, hoarding every detail about you like precious relics of a life he can never fully be part of.
his jealousy is a storm that rages within him. when others come into your life, his calm demeanor shatters. he can’t bear the thought of you sharing your smiles, your laughter, or your attention with anyone else. the air around you grows colder when someone he deems a threat is near, and they often find themselves inexplicably uneasy in your presence. lights flicker, objects fall, and whispers echo in the corners of the room, driving them away with a fear they can’t explain.
but with you, he is soft, almost fragile. he speaks to you in whispers, his voice carrying the faint echo of a forgotten melody, full of longing and sorrow. "don’t be afraid," he murmurs into the quiet of the night. "i’ll always protect you." his words are laced with an aching devotion, a promise to guard you from harm, even if you don’t fully understand where the comfort is coming from.
he leaves you gifts, though he has no tangible hands to place them. a single white flower on your windowsill that wasn’t there the night before, an old, weathered book that appeared on your desk, or a faint message written in the condensation on your mirror. they’re tokens of his affection, his way of reminding you that you’re not alone, even when he can’t be seen.
despite his protectiveness, he’s painfully aware of his limitations. his incorporeal form frustrates him to no end—he longs to touch you, to hold you, to feel the warmth of your hand in his, but the barrier between life and death is unyielding. he spends countless hours watching you, reaching out with ghostly fingers that pass through you, yearning for a connection he can never truly have.
he’s haunted by the memory of what it felt like to be alive, to love and be loved in return. his obsession with you is his only solace in a world of emptiness, but it also drives him to desperation. he begins searching for ways to bridge the gap between your worlds, delving into the supernatural, seeking answers, rituals, or bargains that might bring him closer to you.
when you acknowledge him, even in the smallest ways, it’s everything to him. a whispered “thank you” when you notice the flower he left, a hesitant glance toward the flickering light he caused—it fills him with a joy so profound it nearly breaks him. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are the only proof that he still exists to you.
his love is all-consuming, a desperate and eternal yearning that leaves no room for anything else. he doesn’t just want to protect you; he wants to be with you, to share in your life, to have a place in your heart. he knows his love is overwhelming, even suffocating, but he can’t stop. you’re his reason for lingering in this world, the one thing that makes his cursed existence bearable.
in his more vulnerable moments, he confesses his feelings, his voice trembling with a sorrow that spans lifetimes. "i’m sorry," he whispers, his spectral form flickering like a dying flame. "i didn’t mean for this to happen. but i can’t let go. i won’t." his words are both a plea and a promise, a declaration of a love that will haunt you forever.
his devotion is eternal, unyielding, and consuming. he doesn’t see his obsession as wrong; to him, it’s the purest form of love, a connection that transcends life and death. and though his presence may sometimes frighten you, you can’t deny the strange comfort it brings, the knowledge that someone—something—is always watching over you. he is yours, now and forever, and nothing, not even death, will change that.
you are his reason for lingering in this world, his obsession, his eternity.
alaric drifts soundlessly through the walls, his form a faint shimmer of light that barely disturbs the air
"you called for me," he whispers, his voice like the rustle of leaves on a quiet night. he hovers just out of reach, his longing evident in the way he watches you with those hollow, mournful eyes
every creak of the floorboards, every cool breeze brushing your skin—it’s alaric, a constant, invisible guardian, desperate for you to feel his presence.
the demon
with horns curling from his head, molten eyes, and a smirk that could tempt even the purest soul, the demon is as charming as he is dangerous. he first appeared to you when you were at your lowest, offering power and protection—but only if you stayed by his side.
azrael is striking in his infernal elegance, his beauty sharp and dangerous like a blade. his obsidian horns curl menacingly from his head, gleaming faintly in the firelight, and his jet-black hair is cropped just enough to frame his angular face.
his glowing amber eyes burn with an intensity that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying, framed by dark lashes that soften their predatory edge. his physique is perfectly sculpted, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscle wrapped in dark tattoos that pulse faintly with infernal energy.
a long, spaded tail flicks behind him, a subtle testament to his demonic nature, while his sharp, claw-like fingers could destroy—or cradle.
he infiltrates your dreams, filling them with his voice and his image so that you can never forget him. no matter how far you try to run, he’s always there, whispering promises of eternal love.
the demon doesn’t share. he’ll make deals or threats to ensure no one else dares approach you. his flames flare dangerously when he senses competition.
when you challenge his overbearing nature, he’s secretly thrilled. Your fiery defiance makes him want you even more. but when you show fear or sadness, he’s quick to reassure you with surprising tenderness.
the demon is a dangerous enigma, a being forged in fire and darkness who is utterly captivated by you. his obsession burns hotter than the flames of his infernal home, an all-consuming desire that transcends mortal understanding.
he’s not a creature of softness or restraint—his love is raw, primal, and possessive, and he would raze the world to ash if it meant keeping you by his side.
he first noticed you in a moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something pure and radiant that pierced through his otherwise unrelenting darkness. maybe it was your kindness, your resilience, or even your imperfections—whatever it was, it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in centuries.
for a demon who thrives on power and domination, this feeling was alien, unsettling, and exhilarating.
at first, he tried to ignore it. love, after all, is a weakness—a chain that binds. but the more he watched you, the deeper he sank. you consumed his thoughts, invaded his dreams, and stirred emotions he didn’t even know he was capable of. the line between fascination and obsession blurred, and before long, you became the center of his world, his greatest desire and his ultimate possession.
his presence is overwhelming, even when he isn’t visible. the air grows heavy when he’s near, crackling with an unnatural energy that makes your skin tingle. shadows twist and writhe in the corners of your vision, and faint whispers echo in your mind, promises of devotion spoken in a voice as smooth as velvet.
he’s not above manipulating your emotions to keep you close. he knows exactly how to twist words, how to play on your fears and insecurities, all while making it seem like he’s your only sanctuary. "no one will love you the way i do," he purrs, his voice a blend of seduction and menace. "no one will protect you like i can."
jealousy consumes him with a ferocity that borders on madness. he doesn’t tolerate anyone vying for your attention or affection. if someone dares to come too close, they often meet with mysterious misfortunes—car accidents, sudden illnesses, or even inexplicable disappearances. he doesn’t see these acts as cruel; in his mind, he’s simply ensuring that no one can take you from him.
despite his darkness, his love for you is genuine in its own twisted way. he’s incapable of expressing it in soft or traditional ways, but his devotion is absolute.
he treasures every interaction with you, every fleeting smile, every word you speak to him. he hoards these moments like a dragon hoards gold, replaying them endlessly in his mind.
he’s endlessly fascinated by your humanity—the way your emotions shift like the tides, the fragility of your body, the warmth of your skin. he often marvels at how delicate you are compared to him, a creature of immense power and near-immortality. this contrast only deepens his obsession; you’re a treasure, a rare and precious thing in a world of chaos and darkness.
when he does reveal himself to you, it’s always dramatic and intentional. he thrives on your reactions, whether it’s fear, awe, or even anger. he’ll step out from the shadows, his horns catching the dim light, his dark eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. "you belong to me," he’ll say, his voice leaving no room for argument. it’s not a question, not a plea—it’s a declaration, an unshakable truth in his mind.
he uses his demonic powers to bind himself to you in ways both subtle and overt. you might find strange symbols etched into the corners of your room, or feel an inexplicable pull toward him that you can’t resist. he’s always there, in your dreams, in your thoughts, in the very fabric of your reality.
but for all his power and confidence, there’s a vulnerability beneath his fiery exterior. he’s terrified of losing you, of you rejecting him or finding someone else.
it’s a fear he doesn’t understand, one that gnaws at him and drives him to even greater extremes. he’ll do anything to keep you, even if it means breaking every rule, defying the laws of heaven and hell, and binding your soul to his for eternity.
in his own way, he tries to be gentle with you. he knows his nature frightens you, that his obsession can be overwhelming, so he tempers his intensity—at least, as much as a demon is capable of. he’ll appear to you in dreams, his voice soft, his touch feather-light, weaving fantasies of a life where you’re his and his alone.
but make no mistake—his love is as dangerous as it is consuming. he doesn’t see you as a partner, but as something to be claimed, protected, and possessed. you’re his light in the darkness, his one weakness, and he would destroy anyone—or anything—that threatens to take you from him.
"i’ll burn this world to the ground for you," he tells you, his voice a low growl, his eyes glowing with an intensity that’s equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing. "just say the word."
to him, you’re not just his obsession—you’re his salvation, the one thing that makes his existence bearable. his love is eternal, fierce, and utterly inescapable, binding you to him in ways you might never fully understand. you are his everything, and he will stop at nothing to make sure you remain his. forever.
azrael appears in a flicker of shadows and embers, his smirk sharp enough to cut
"did you miss me?" he purrs, his voice dripping with sinful charm. his burning gaze never leaves yours, an intensity that feels like it could consume your very soul
when he steps closer, the scent of smoke and spice fills the air, and the room grows impossibly warm
"you can’t escape me, little one," he murmurs, his words a promise and a threat all at once.
the sea monster
a towering creature with scales that shimmer in the moonlight and eyes as deep as the ocean, the sea monster saved you from drowning during a storm. since then, he’s watched you from the water’s edge, longing to pull you into his world.
his body a perfect blend of human and sea creature. his skin shimmers with an iridescent sheen, scales glinting faintly with hues of green, blue, and silver that shift like sunlight on water. his long, flowing hair resembles seaweed, dark and sleek, cascading down his back in waves.
his eyes glow faintly, like bioluminescent creatures of the deep, their piercing intensity revealing his ancient power. his hands are webbed and tipped with sharp, claw-like nails, and his muscular frame is marked with jagged scars from battles in the ocean’s depths. his lower half bears fins that ripple with movement, giving him a grace that belies his massive size.
he collects things you’ve touched—seashells, pieces of cloth, even footprints in the sand. his underwater lair is filled with these treasures, each arranged like a shrine.
he hates when you leave the shore. If you venture too far inland, he’ll create storms or tidal waves to draw you back to him.
he becomes surprisingly bashful when you willingly approach the water to speak to him. your trust in him, despite his monstrous appearance, makes his heart swell.
the sea monster is an ancient being, born of the ocean’s depths, where sunlight never reaches. his obsession with you is as vast and unfathomable as the waters he calls home—a love born of isolation, mystery, and an insatiable hunger for connection. to him, you are his beacon, a rare and precious light in the endless darkness of his world, and he is utterly captivated by you.
his first encounter with you was serendipitous—a chance meeting by the shore, or perhaps a daring moment when you ventured too close to the water’s edge. he saw you, a fragile creature of the land, and was instantly enthralled.
your movements, your laughter, even the way the sunlight caught in your hair—all of it was alien and beautiful to him. from that moment, you became his fixation, his reason to rise from the depths.
he watches you from the water, his massive form concealed beneath the waves, his glowing eyes ever watchful. at first, his presence is subtle—the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, the inexplicable pull of the tide whenever you’re near.
but as his obsession deepens, his signs become harder to ignore. strange treasures wash ashore: seashells, polished stones, and other trinkets that seem too deliberately placed to be coincidences.
he is a creature of contradictions. his love for you is as tender as it is overwhelming, and while he longs to be near you, he’s painfully aware of his monstrous appearance. his body is a fusion of scales, fins, and sinewy muscle, a form designed to survive in the crushing pressure of the deep sea. he fears your rejection, that you will see him as a monster rather than the devoted being he has become.
despite this, he can’t help but draw closer. when you venture into the water, he’s there, just beneath the surface, his presence a dark shadow that follows you. he revels in these moments, the closeness, the illusion that he’s part of your world. the saltwater clings to your skin, and it drives him mad with desire—it’s as though the ocean itself is marking you as his.
his jealousy is as fierce as a storm at sea. anyone who dares to draw too near to you risks his wrath. fishermen speak of sudden squalls that rise from nowhere, boats overturned by unseen forces, and sailors vanishing into the depths. he doesn’t see it as cruelty; to him, it’s protection. the ocean is his domain, and no one else has the right to take what belongs to him.
he dreams of pulling you into his world, of making you his in every way. the thought of you joining him beneath the waves consumes him, and he begins to weave fantasies of a life together in the depths—a palace of coral and bioluminescent light, where you would be his queen, his eternal companion.
but he knows it’s impossible, and this knowledge torments him. he can’t survive on land for long, and you can’t live beneath the water. this barrier between your worlds drives him to desperation. he begins seeking forbidden rituals and ancient magic, anything that might allow him to bridge the gap and bring you into his realm—or transform himself into something that can walk beside you on the shore.
when he speaks, his voice is a low, resonant rumble, like the distant crash of waves on a rocky shore. his words are filled with longing and reverence, a declaration of a love that spans the vastness of the ocean. "you are my light," he murmurs, his glowing eyes fixed on you. "without you, i am nothing but the endless dark."
his love is consuming, a tidal wave that sweeps away everything in its path. he doesn’t understand restraint or boundaries; to him, love is absolute, and his devotion to you is all-encompassing. he sees your hesitations, your fears, but he can’t stop himself. you are the first thing in centuries to stir his cold, ancient heart, and he will not let you go.
when you acknowledge his presence, even in the smallest ways—a whispered word to the sea, a touch to one of the treasures he’s left for you—his heart swells with a joy so profound it’s almost painful. he clings to these moments, replaying them in his mind during the long hours when he’s alone in the depths, waiting for the chance to see you again.
his protectiveness is as fierce as his love. the ocean itself seems to bend to his will, rising to shield you from harm. storms part in your wake, currents carry you safely to shore, and even the most fearsome predators of the deep seem to bow before you. you are his everything, and he will guard you with a ferocity that defies nature itself.
but there’s a darkness to his love, a possessiveness that borders on madness. he doesn’t just want you to love him; he wants you to need him, to see him as the only one who can protect and cherish you. "the land will never understand you as i do," he tells you, his voice a low growl, the waves crashing behind him. "they will never love you as i do."
his obsession is eternal, as deep and unyielding as the ocean itself. you are his heart, his treasure, his reason for rising to the surface. and though his love may be overwhelming, even frightening, there’s a strange beauty in it—a devotion so pure and unshakable that it defies the boundaries of worlds. you are his, now and always, and he will never let the tide carry you away.
mio watches from the waves, his body a dark silhouette against the moonlit water. when you finally meet his gaze, he speaks your name like it’s a prayer, his voice low and reverent
"you don’t belong to the land," he says, his tone both pleading and possessive. "the ocean calls to you. i call to you.
his fingers trail through the water, creating ripples that mirror the emotions surging in his chest—desire, devotion, and an unshakable determination to make you his.
while each monster is fiercely possessive, they begrudgingly tolerate each other’s presence because they all agree on one thing: your happiness comes first.
you’re not just a human to them—you’re their everything. whether you accept their twisted love or try to escape, one thing is certain: they’ll never let you go. you’ve awakened something primal and eternal in their hearts, and no force on earth or beyond could sever the bonds they’ve forged with you.
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unknownati · 11 hours ago
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xi. slow morning
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a/n: from my draftz if theres typos dont tell me im blind and proud... as a side note i feel like i write intimacy better than anything else AM I TWEAKING.
warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, fluff and smut, short, handjob (e! recieving—very ekko focused), intimacy (both nonsexual and sexual), cuddling, morning sex, modern!ekko, slight sub!ekko, hoping this position is understandable lol, no morning breath mentions y'all arent in each others face, half-proofread...meaning i gave up halfway thru. goodnight! 🙋🏾‍♀️
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warm slivers of sunlight seep through cracks in the curtains, spilling on your face as your eyes fluttered open, making a slow ascent into consciousness.
you're met with a phone screen, a pair of hands framing the device. ekko's. a thumb swipes along the screen, transitioning into the next video. two cats cuddling. you watch him hover over the send button, tap it, choose your profile, and type the message 'us :)' before sending it to you. your phone buzzes faintly on the nightstand, though you don't reach for it.
gentle breaths seep into your ears from behind you, relaxed and steady. a shift in movement, warmth enveloping your figure—his arms, which you reach up to stroke. his hold is protective and grounded.
he was long awake before you, you can tell from the way his voice sounds, smooth and airy.
"morning, angel."
it's a stark contrast from when he first wakes up. he sounds more gruff. more miserable. much like how you sound now.
you groan, soft. you stretch to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "g'morning."
you don't feel miserable, though. far from it. waking up in his arms is the only way you've ever liked waking up.
neither of you will be getting up any time soon. not with the way your legs are tangled together, the way he presses a tender kiss against the shell of your ear as a secondary greeting, it's all too...weighted. too comfortable to just brush past. it's the weekend, anyway.
you turn, neck slightly craned, forehead pressing into his clavicle. his scent clings to him, as intoxicating and heavenly as ever. the faint traces of last night's shower linger. you know he used your body wash—he always did. shea butter lied above a layer of his basic lotion (eucerin, you put him on since he has drier skin), completed with that divine cologne he uses. forest-y, notes of pine and bergamot.
your fingertips drag along the bare skin of his side, and he twitches away from your touch. a breathy laugh exits him.
"that tickles."
you stop, moving down to his core. "sorry," you murmur. it's half-sincere.
your digits dance across the surface of his stomach, quite literally. you create legs with your pointer and middle finger, making your little hand-person do twirls and jumps. his laughs bubbles again.
"that tickles worse," his chin meets the crown of your head when he looks down, unable to catch your expression. a hand meets your nape, mimicking your movements.
it's featherlight and playful, as if bugs are scuttling along your skin. you laugh the same as he does, shoulders shrugging up in discomfort.
"okay, okay! i'm sorry."
his hand settles at the bottom of your back, right where your spine curves inward. it's relaxed at first, but then it presses. pulls you closer. as if there's even any more space to close.
your legs wrap around his waist, the leg which you lay on pushing beneath his hip to raise it. it's only uncomfortable for a second, then it's like you're slowly melting into each other's forms. bare chest to bare chest, chins resting on the other's shoulder, hearts swelling at the same speed. you know your leg will fall asleep soon, but you don't care.
yet, he's not paying enough attention to you. not as much as you'd like. sure, his hand is stroking your back. sure, he still seems like he's trying to find ways to pull you closer. but his focus strays. it's all on his phone, undeserving.
his eyes stay glued to the screen, darting around. some video about owls. his hand was beginning to falter, his affection slowing.
greedy. you need more. you know how to get it.
you shift away and your hand meets his side again. he flinches, assuming you're continuing with your ticklish movements. he settles once realizing you won't. then it trails, a slow drag down towards the front of his boxers—a light blue pair with snoopy and woodstock printed in an even pattern. you bought them for him a while back, and he was never one to complain. plus, they were comfy.
only when your fingers breach the elastic band did he notice what you were doing. he doesn't stop you.
he wasn't soft for very long after you reveal his length. feeling it grow stiff in your hands made your heart rate pick up.
"i've barely even touched you yet," you murmur, turning to litter his neck with open-mouthed kisses. he groans in response.
his tip prods at your naval once his dick is standing at full attention. an airy chuckle flows from you into his ears. your fist closes just below the head, thumb reaching to rub along the sensitive underside. each vein, each ridge that you trace over elicits a whine—ones that are close to melodic, satisfying hums to your ears.
your hand moves agonizingly slow, long strokes that leave his mind going fuzzy. it's not long until his tip starts crying, which you happily collect as lubricant. his brows knit together, delicate gasps overlapping the video in the background.
ekko's face nuzzles into the junction connecting your neck and shoulder, plump lips pressing into the end of your collarbone. his moans muffle against your skin.
"hidin'?" you ask, your free hand reaching to run through his locs. he nods, slowly thrusting his hips up into your fist, meeting your movements halfway.
a small noise clicks behind you, and whatever video he was watching stopped. then a thud against the mattress. he dropped his phone. another arm clamps around you, and you know you've got him good.
finally, the attention is on you. his grasp on your body is tight, the sweet desperate nothings he whispers into your ears as he curses and begs you not to stop are angelic.
"fuck...don't stop. please, you make me feel s-so good. god, baby—"
you loosely echo his words back to him, voice sultry and raspy. "yeah?" you purr. "feels good?"
your wrist flicks faster, too quick for his lazy hips to keep up with. he loses rhythm, his pants stutter. he murmurs something, too shyly for you to hear, yet you can only assume he's coming undone. your theory is quickly confirmed, his movements slowing to a stop as he releases all over your hand and tummy, fingertips pressing into your back.
if only you could hear his pretty cries better. against your skin, they're low and subdued, but you can hear the incantations of your name paired with his voice breaking off at the peak of his climax.
neither of you realized how tense his body had become until he relaxes against you, hand still weakly skimming along your lower back.
still, your bodies were heavy. neither of you wanted to move. but the cum dripping off you was starting to feel weird, and you want it off.
you barely even get to think about moving before his arms squeeze tighter around you. "ekko, i wanna go wipe this off."
"not yet," he whispers shakily. "just...a few more minutes. can't be done with you yet."
you've definitely won his attention. for a few hours.
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formylovetodaryldixon · 1 day ago
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"Like there was no tomorrow." Daryl Dixon.
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Daryl Dixon promised himself, the night he let you go, that he would always love you, like there was no tomorrow. But when you come back into his life, you’re sure you won't fall for him again. However, even against your wishes, he will stay close to you, protecting you from getting hurt or worse, because a life without you is unimaginable. Now, like a roller coaster of emotions, you have to face your confusing feelings in an apocalyptic world, until you finally decide what the hell you expect from life, besides the chance to live one more day.
And when a little girl shows up in your lifes, she may be the path to a safe place you two can finally call home. But, will that be enough to be together? Or will the past be too much to survive the storm?
PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x reader
WARNING: Death, blood, a lot of bad words hehe (but also romance and even some comedy if I can get it right hehe)
ERA: From prison onwards.
A/N: Hey! I forgot to say this before but I was going to introduce a new character. April is a little girl Daryl and you find along the way, so you two decide to take care of her despite the constant fights between Daryl and April (I must admit I had fun writing their dialogues haha) Hope you like this♥ Thank you!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
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Chapter 3:
During a heavy night, the fallen branches continue to break under the feet of the death, a horde of aimless travelers surrounding the cabin on their way to nowhere, but the sound of their growls mixes with the horrible silence that usually reigned in the forest, preventing you two from sleeping. Lying on the floor next to Daryl, your breathing and his are soft sounds, but somewhat agitated due to the constant danger.
On the other side of the place, the young woman and her daughter, who is 5 years barely, (although she is a little smaller) sleep peacefully, ignoring the world around them after wandering through the woods for days. It is still strange to find people, because they were always wary of being robbed, or worse, but they were so hungry and hurt that they didn’t even ask what animal they were eating after Daryl hunted some squirrels.
But as you look to your left to look at Daryl, you can see Aeris too, clinging to the chair at the wooden table, staring out the only window, the little moonlight that filters through the thick branches of the trees illuminating part of her fur.
“You should try to sleep.” You say softly, thinking that night he will be able to sleep after days of sleeplessness.
But Daryl looks at you, with a deep gaze as he takes a look at your lips before stopping at your eyes. And it's intense, as always, like diving into a new kind of ocean.
“S’okay, peach. Ya sleep.”
And then, Daryl stares at the ceiling again. For a moment, you keep looking: the beautiful color of his eyes is still the same, and you remember his deep gaze on his almost always mocking, condescending expression on his almost stupid but very attractive face. During that time, a few strands of hair, dark blonde, fell over his forehead, framing that deep but accusatory look he had at first. But now his hair is long, darker, and you feel stupid thinking that he turned out to be even more handsome.
But at the same time, it is hard to look at him again. So, with a long sigh, you turn over with your back at him, as if blocking the view of him would stop your feelings from overflowing, and, closing your eyes, you fall sleep. Although it is a superficial sleep, because after a while, you can feel his strong arm around you, his chest against your back, his irregular heartbeats on yours. However, his breathing is calm in that chaotic world, and you stop yourself when the memory of him once saying that you were the reason why he could sleep at night, tries to emerge from the depths of your mind, the place where you sent that life you once lived by his side.
But when Daryl moves, you can feel something pressing against your thigh: and the memory of those mornings next to him come fast and it makes you chuckle.
“What’s so damn funny?” He asks, low so as not to disturb the others, his voice even more deeper.
“Can you please tell that monster in your pants that I'm harmless?” You whisper. “I feel like if I move it’s going to try to eat me alive.”
Daryl snorts, but he doesn’t move, eyes still closed.
“S’not somethin’ ya haven’t felt before, against ya… or inside ya.”
“Hey! Fuck you, asshole.” The damn audacity in his voice makes you hold back a laugh as you try to pull away, surprised when you should be annoyed, but he doesn’t let you go. “Can you move? You're breathing all my air.”
However, against your wishes, Daryl pulls you even closer.
“S’not somethin’ I haven't done before either. Now be quiet or ya’re gonna wake ‘em up.”
You sigh, part of you hating him but closing your eyes again because it is still night, while trying to ignore the tickle of his breath on your exposed neck.
But you don’t know well what time is it when you feel something sharp poking your forehead, a soft but firm blow that makes you open your eyes. The first rays of the sun are fighting against the darkness of the world, and then, you look up to see Aeris next to you, looking impatient. It’s still crazy how she can say a thousand words without being able to speak, but her dark gaze says it all.
She’s telling something is not right.
You sit up, so quickly that you wake Daryl as you turn to look at the opposite side of the small cabin, at an empty space no longer occupied by the young mother and her daughter, feeling suddenly the breeze coming through the half-open door.
“What?” Daryl sits up too, rubbing his eyes with one hand.
“Where are they?”
Daryl looks at the empty place, too.
“Maybe they went out to take a piss.”
“Leaving the door open?” It is still crazy, you know it as you stand up, your gun in your waist holster, but Aeris seemed to be tied too closely to you now to ignore the signals she sends you in the face of all kinds of danger, not just from the walkers. “Ruby, the woman, she can barely walk with that sprained ankle. Something is wrong.”
Daryl growls in frustration, but he gets up as well, taking his crossbow from the floor before walking out of the cabin with you. He is a natural tracker, too smart to find the footprints in a second, the different pressure of Ruby's feet against the ground due to the pain and April's small footsteps and how they left a long path between the dirt, as if her mom was dragging her.
Only a minute or perhaps two passes until you two find them, but the feeling of fear is so latent that it takes your breath away, suffocating and dangerous the moment Daryl shoots an arrow into Ruby's arm before she can shoot the girl in the head. April is crying, scared, and she runs towards you to hide herself behind you, your arms high as you point your gun at her.
“What the fuck are ya doin’, huh?!” Daryl is angry, his eyes fixed on the woman who, even with all the pain and an arrow stuck in her skin, just squeeze the gun even harder.
The air doesn’t seem to reach yours or Daryl’s body, you can feel it in his rapid breathing. The feeling is surreal, like watching a horror movie, like being pulled out of your body, but life happens in a single second, that short time in which Ruby raises the gun and puts it at her temple, pulling the trigger before you can shoot her in any limbs to stop her. And the sound of the shot sinks into the silence of the forest, awakening the walkers that apparently still roam the place.
“Fuck.” Daryl curses under his breath, placing the strap of his crossbow around his body before taking April in his arms, settling her small body against his. “We need to go ‘fore those things get too close. Call yer rat.”
He starts walking, but it takes you a second to roll your eyes before following him.
You lost track of time long ago without the aid of a watch, but when the rays of sunlight fall straight down from the highest part of the sky, you can bet is noon or close to it. Aeris rests on your shoulder now, always aware of the surroundings, and with no walkers or other danger in sight, she looks cam, so you can take a second to catch a glimpse of Daryl, who's still holding April, his naked forearms beneath her.
She looks lost, confused, but April seems calmer than an adult would be when faced with a loss. However, when April looks up and her eyes meet Daryl's, her expression turns serious, as if the depth of her little thoughts is sinking her frown.
“What?” Daryl asks, with his own brow furrowed in confusion.
“It is not okay to say that word.”
Daryl is confused.
“What word?”
“The F world.”
When Daryl understands her words, he snorts.
“When ya get to be as tall as I am, monkey, ya can tell me what the f to do.”
“I’m not a monkey!” Frustrated, April keeps looking at him with the same expression, but she doesn't seem ready to give in. “And that’s rude. You are rude!”
Daryl has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but to him, who had never seen a little girl that close, it's almost fascinating how that little monkey as he called her kept staring at him like that even though to people with common sense, he was always intimidating.
“Ya ain’t the first person who tells me that. Ya see that woman over there?” Then, he nods towards you. “Every single day, she told how rude I was.”
April looks at you for a few seconds, as if she is analyzing you, and you have to do your best not to laugh even when she looks back at Daryl.
“Is (Y/N) your sister?”
“No. She was ma damn woman.”
In a second, you slap his exposed arm, causing him to push away from you.
“Don’t say that to a kid, you as…” You stop yourself too, exhaling before talking again. “You don’t anything about kids, don’t you?”
“I know they’re annoyin’, jus’ like this monkey.” Daryl snorts, again, looking back at April. “Now be quiet ‘fore I make ya walk on yer own.”
For a long moment, you all remain quiet. But it is funny to think how Daryl and you spent part of your lives in the woods, because for both of you, the woods had been a way out, an escape from your reality. Daryl spent time away from home to avoid his parents, and you did too, just to avoid the cruel man your dad became when alcohol seemed to replace his blood. And when Daryl and you met, you two continued spending your time among the big trees, but without feeling so alone when you were together.
“Were you married to (Y/N), Daryl?” April’s voice is low, unsecure, but she looks at Daryl with a sweet interest. He gulps, but before Daryl can answer, she is speaking again. “I don’t think Ruby was married to my dad.”
You frown, confused.
“Ruby was not your mom, darling?”
April shakes her head.
“She was, but she didn’t like me to call her mom when we were alone.”
Daryl looks at you, and you both share an even more confused look.
“Did ya meet yer dad?” He asks, softly this time.
“No.”
After that, as if a great wave of sadness suddenly covered her, April rests her cheek against Daryl's shoulder, closing her eyes to avoid seeing the atrocities of the world in which she had to live now. With a final look between Daryl and you, before looking ahead, you both wonder what you two are going to do with a kid. You are not going to leave her, of course, but her suddenly present makes you asking yourself what to do next: before April, you were sure you were going to stay with Ellie and Mark for a few days, making sure to leave everything safe for them to go find Sam and Daryl's people, but now, the most logical thing is for April to stay there, with you.
But about Daryl, you are not so sure about that.
When the world gets dark, so dark it seems like it could swallow you up in a new kind of terror, you three finally reach Elli and Mark’s house. April is next to Daryl, who has his crossbow ready as you open the door of what was once a convenience store, closing it behind you all the moment you all step in. It’s dark, but the moonlight tries to filter through the small spaces in the wood nailed to the two windows.
“I’m scared.” April says softly, her hand finding Daryl’s as they walk behind you.
He squeezes it, gently. But why does it feel like something is not right for you? It's too quiet, like there's no trace of life there, and the feeling stays in your chest as if a high fever was born right there. And suddenly, in a second, you are scared to death. The way from the long hallway to the door that connects to the house feels eternally long, but when you finally reach it and you open it with the spare key, the loneliness of the place takes your breath away.
You turn around to see April as you take Aeris in your hand to place her on April’s shoulder.
“April, stay here with Daryl, okay? And take care of my baby for a moment, will you?”
April nods just like Daryl, and then, you leave the living room towards the main one. The windowless hallway is like walking blindly, but you know your way around to know where to go, however, you can’t stop a thousand of worries from stabbing your heart like daggers, and sadly, the moment you reach the open door of their room, life stops making sense. The closed window is covered by a thick curtain, but it lets in a small light that shines coldly beneath the lifeless bodies of Ellie and Mark on the bed. In shock, you cover your mouth with a hand, but nothing comes out of it, not a scream, not a cry, nothing, only the emptiness of your soul.
“Hey, don’t look…” You feel Daryl’s arms turning you around, holding you against him. Your fists are on his chest, and you try to breathe in the air that is suddenly so hot. “I’m so sorry, peach.”
You rest your forehead on his chest, trying not to give up.
“And April?”
“She’s okay.” Daryl says softly. “Yer rat is takin’ care of ‘er.”
But even in the midst of the confusion, you're able to chuckle a little bit as you hear that constant and awful nickname.
“There are some canned peaches in the kitchen. Can you give her that? I want to take the letter from Mark's hand before I close the door.”
Daryl sighs, because he always hated seeing you suffer, in any way.
“I can get it for ya, peach. Ya don’t have to go there.”
You gulp, almost hearing your own heartbeats in your ears in that lonely place that once, it was like a home for you.
“I have to. But I’ll be fine.” You look up, holding a broken gaze.
Daryl nods, but you can see the fear in his eyes.
“Don’t give up now, peach, please…” Daryl rests his forehead against yours, one of his hands caressing your cheek for a moment. “I can’t lose ya again.”
His words are overwhelming, and the plea in his small voice is as loud as the shot of a gun, that sound that paralyze you, that make you think you might go deaf, so you just nod, pulling apart from him. Daryl is insecure in that moment, you can see it in his eyes that were always so honest with you, but he just walks away, taking with him that warmth that he was always able to share with you.
Alone again, you walk in.
Lying both on the bed, Mark is holding Ellie with one loose arm around her body, trying to protect her as he always did. And it's sad, devastating, but at the same time is sweet to think that they both left together, always together. You can see the gun in Ellie’s hand, and the wound in his head and hers.
“I love you both, so much.” Your voice falters and the river of tears starts coming, threatening to fall from the edge of your eyes, but you keep them where they belong as you take the folded paper from Mark's hand. “If there is a heaven, I know you two are there right now. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but I hope to see you two there someday… if God is generous with me to let me in, too.”
With a long sigh, you walk out of there, closing the door forever.
When you reach the living room, you can see Daryl and April sitting down around the small table while eating the canned peaches, with a small scented candle in the center, but it is almost comical how you can see and hear them arguing about what cereal is better, as if that were a peace offering from life to make you forget the pain.
“Froot Loops is better.” April says as you sit down, as determined as a 5-year-old can be.
On the other end, on the chair, Aeris seems to observe everything but without any interest.
“How ya even know?” Daryl asks, with an incredulous expression. “Ya even know what a good cereal is?”
Frustrated, April frowns, but it's like watching an angry puppy try to fight a pit-bull.
“Of course I know! Ruby’s friend got it for me once.”
She basically just said she never ate cereal for breakfast like a regular kid, even before the end of the world. And that makes you wonder, what kind of life did April have?
“Once...” Daryl snorts. “I ate cereal for years growin’ up, kid, so I know damn well what I'm talkin’ ‘bout.”
April, knowing she’s losing, looks at Daryl straight in the eyes.
“Well, you are old. That’s why you know what you’re talking about.”
Daryl is getting frustrated, (like when he was arguing with his brother when they were younger) you can see it in the way he narrows his eyes at her.
“Well, ya are short, monkey.”
There is a moment of silent around the table, but their behavior makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay. That’s enough. Finish your food, kids, I’m tired and I want to rest.”
"Can the three of us sleep together, (Y/N)? Please?" April's gaze softens as she looks at you, but you can see a new kind of fear in her as she looks at Daryl too. “Please, Daryl?”
She’s sweet and so beautiful that not even Daryl can fight against her, so he just sighs nodding his head.
A moment later and while Aeris is out there hunting her food, the little room, the little bed where you used to sleep alone is full of people now, warm bodies that remind you that you are still alive. Lying on his right side at the other end of the bed, Daryl is looking at April, who is sleeping now in the middle, on her belly and covered by an old but soft blanket, her soft breathing filling the room.
“You seemed very fatherly in the afternoon until you started arguing with a 5-year-old girl.” You say softly, laughing a little bit.
Daryl's eyes meet yours, but he's staring at you so intently that for a moment, you fear what he's going to say.
“At some point in our life together…” He whispers, but you can hear the shyness in his voice. “Ya saw me as the father of our children?”
You think about it for a moment, wondering if it is okay to share your deep thoughts with him now, but there is something about the night, like a door that opens and allows you to be honest, or vulnerable.
“Yeah, I did. For a while I really thought that at some point in our lives we were going to start a family, perhaps a different one than the ones we had to live in.” You sigh, but you dare to be brave and hold his gaze. “You are a good man, Daryl, you always were, and yeah, you have a short temper but you are a good person, really. I just wish you are able to see yourself the way I always saw you.”
Daryl wants to say something about it, desperately, but he just doesn’t know how.
“What are we gonna do with her?”
“I really don’t know.” You exhale, deeply. “I wanted to go looking for Sam, but I know is not fair to expose April to danger.”
Daryl rubs his face with one hand, too tired to think clearly.
“We figure it out tomorrow. Try to sleep, peach.”
You nod softly, but you know he won’t do it.
“Can you sleep tonight at least? Please, Daryl?” You say, trying to use April’s sweet voice.
And Daryl loves that, but he is too shy to let you know as he snorts instead.
“Fine.”
You chuckle, closing your eyes too, trying that, at least for a few hours, sleep takes you to a better place, far from that cold world.
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I'm tagging the people who commented on the first chapter, but if you don't want it that way, please, just tell me :) thank you!
@fluffy-dixon
@stunkbiggu
@kurogxrix
@ffsjustletmesleep
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0vergrowngraveyard · 7 months ago
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what if i said a boscage mage version of sonic just forced his way into my brain and now him and mangey are all i can think about for the time being? what then?
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luvv4j4ybe11 · 11 months ago
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꧁𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖꧂
✧ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔<3
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✧ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕��𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒅𝒂, 𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒗, 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍, 𝒔𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒔 (𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒋𝒔 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒐), 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈/𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚/𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒅𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂, ’𝒔𝒊𝒓’ 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕. 𝑳𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔💕
✧ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔: 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒚𝒊̀𝒑- 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆- 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝑶𝒆𝒚𝒂̈- 𝒎𝒚 (𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆), 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖- 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒊̀𝒚𝒂𝒘𝒏-𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒗𝒐-𝒚𝒐𝒗𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒔𝒂𝒉𝒚𝒍𝒖- 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅, 𝑵𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒙𝒂𝒏 ’𝒆𝒌𝒙𝒊𝒏, 𝒐𝒆𝒚𝒂̈ 𝒕𝒊̀𝒚𝒂𝒘𝒏- “𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑴𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆“, 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒌𝒆 𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒊̀𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒈𝒂 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒏- 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚
✧ 𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊!! 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒐
✧ !!𝑨𝑳𝑺𝑶!! 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒔/𝒐, 𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒚𝒂!𝒔/𝒐, 𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒌𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒂!𝒔/𝒐. 𝑺𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚☺️💕
──☆*:・゚──☆*:・゚ ──☆*:・゚✧𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒄’𝒔
- they’re all extremelyy protective over you. And always so ready to defend you.
- very touchy, weather it’s a little hand hold or a full on thigh grab he needs to have his hands on you at all times.
- they’re all very fertile, and so are you. (So yk what that means😘)
- their aftercare is AMAZING 🫦
- NON-SEXUAL DOMINANCE 😩!! Like…
Putting his hand on your back to lead you somewhere
Saying “no” in a stern but caring tone
Opening things for you/ Making way for you
Giving you reasonable instructions
Telling you “come here” and/or pointing to the ground to where they want you
Fixing your appearance (like fixing your hair or loincloth)
Lifting your chin up
“look at me”
Fixing your posture
“Yeah?”
And so many more😩
- always so quick to do anything for you. Want food? He already out the door. Cold? Blanket is already covering you. Need a hug? Immediately wrapping his arms around you and kissing you gently. This man is in loveee with you😭
- they got the besttt hand placement 😩
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𝑵𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎
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❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- loves taking you out on late night beach walks, the bioluminescence of the pandora making you look even more gorgeous.
- whenever you two go on walks in the forest he always hold your hand whenever the path gets too uneven. And whenever he has to climb or jump over something he’ll always pick you up so you don’t get hurt.
“Teyam! I’m fine! I’m not a child you know.”
“Mhm. Yeah sure, yawntutsyìp. Now come on.”
- hates when he sees other guys looking at you, almost like he can hear their thoughts. So he’ll just wrap his arm around you and trail kisses and a few bites all over your soft skin, making sure everyone know you’re his.
- whenever he gets mad his jaw does that thing, and ik yall know what im talking about 😩
- keeps track of your period/heat cycle, so he knows the exact day you’re going to get it.
- he baby’s you a lottt during these days, making sure his girl is ok.
“Here tahnì, kiri made this for you. It’s supposed to take some of the pain away.”
“Thank you, baby. You’re the best-“ and there it was again. That sharp pain shooting up through your core. It felt like someone was trying to tear you apart from the inside out.
You yelp in pain, neteyam automatically leaping next to your side and pressing his big hand into where the pain was coming from.
“Shshsh, yawntu. It’s ok..I know it hurts but I’m here baby. I got you.” He coos, the warmth and pressure from his hand soothing you immediately. The rest of your body weight pressing into his chest.
“That’s my girl.”
- always is looking at you even when you’re not looking at him. You always manage to catch his eyes tho, it’s hard not to when he’s staring right into your soul.
- but when you finally do meet his eyes they’re always filled with love and affection, it makes you smile all giddy every time
- his tail always betrays his words, like whenever you feel like he’s getting jealous, you’ll ask him upfront. And ofc he’ll say no, but two seconds later you feel his tail coiling around your thigh possessively. Or when you guys get into a fight and are still mad at each other afterwards, his tail will still wrap around your calve as a comfort. But he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
- does the lil “come here” waist grab combo before he kisses you🤤
!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!
❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- loves seeing how flustered you get by him just doing the smallest things, like when he flexes his arms or lowers his voice a little just to see your thighs clench and face get all red/purple
“Y/n..you listening to me, yawntusip?” He questions with a smirk that tells you he already knew the answer to his own question.
“Yes, yes I’m sorry, baby. Continue.” You responded, mind still focused on how the way he was looking at you and his deep voice made your panties unbearably slick.
“Mhm.. no. I rather do something else instead.”
- has such a huge breeding kink. Like he’s downright obsessed with how pretty you look all cockdrunk with his cum just leaking out of you. Makes him feralll.
- also has a courruption kink, size kink, slight spit kink, biting kink, Dacryphilla, and yeah this mf js freaky asf (but he keep it on the DL)
- speaking of him being freaky asf, he’d definitely fuck you in public. Like this man is balls deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he thrust back in, and he’s over here telling you shit like “shshsh, yawne.. don’t want them to hear you now do you? Mhm~fuck.. you must want them to with the way you’re clenching around me huh?” Like MHM😩
- he’s a eater. He’s such an eater. (js like his brother and daddy) your pussy is basically stress relief to him😭
- puts his hair in a bun before he eat it🫦
- doesn’t mind when you ask to return the favor, bc he loves seeing you on your knees in front of him, pretty lips wrapped around his thick tip and hands desperately gripping at his thighs as you try to push the rest of him into your mouth. The sight makes him js 😵‍💫
-so whipped for you 😭like this mf will do ANYTHINGGG for you, just say the word.
- loves watching you try to hold in your moans and whimpers, the way your face gets all puffy and hands start shaking and squeezing him desperately makes something primal awaken in him. And watching the tears finally spill over your face when he makes you cum? Fucking perfect to him.
- has a ‘sir’ kink too, you found out about it accidentally tbh😭
“Make sure you clean that cut, oeyä yawntu. Don’t want it getting infected.” He ordered softly, making you smile at his gentle yet stern demeanor.
“Yes, sir.” You quipped sarcastically, looking down at the bandage infront of you.
His whole body froze at the name, ears perking up and tail standing up in a ridged way “What?” He said lowly, his switch in energy making your body mimic his.
“I-uhm sorry I-“
“No. Don’t apologize, yawntu.” He walks over to you quickly before kneeling infront of you, kissing you hungrily. “Say it again.” Your tail sways around excitedly at his tone, body getting hotter by the second.
“Yes, sir.”
“Mhm..again.”
- a titty man definitely, he loves watching them bounce whenever he fucks you in missionary
- whenever he punishes you, orgasm denial/control and spanking are his go tos. He just loves how needy and whiney you get from him not giving you what you want.
“T-teyam, please! I’m sorry!”
“Yeah? You pissing me off says otherwise.” Another harsh slap.
You writhe and squirm under him, but it’s no use. Tears of frustration stream down you face once you feel two more slaps to your sensitive flesh.
“P-please, teyam. No..more.” You whine, chest heaving and mouth dry from your screams of protest. His expression softens at your small voice, hand coming down to rub the irritated skin back and forth gently.
“Alright, yawntu. No more.” He coos, leaning down to leave soft kisses on the back of your neck, “but don’t think I’m gonna let you cum at all tonight.”
- loves kissing you when your sitting on something, weather it be a counter or your bed, he just loves kissing you like that.
- grabs your waist to grind you down onto him/guide your movements
- “I’ll make it fit, Yawntu.”
- when he starts getting close he’ll whisper the DIRTIESTT shit in Navi to you 🫦
“Mhm~..Teyam, please..” you whine, the feeling of him using you and stretching your small, leaking pussy proving way too much for you.
“I know, ma’yawntu. Need you to be good for me ok?” He coos, holding the side of your face gently.
You lazily respond with a head nod, slowly losing yourself because of the feeling of your 4th orgasm building up in your core.
He shudders when your pussy clenches around him repeatedly, making him lean down to cadge you in with one of his arms, while the other holds your leg. Leaving slow, sloppy marks and kisses all over your soft skin.
“Hah~fuck..Niftxan ‘ekxin, oeyä tìyawn..Tsun ke ne tìng nga a prrnen~“
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𝑱𝒂𝒌𝒆
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❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- likes having you on his lap while he does small chores that don’t require him to be standing
- and he does that thing where he pats his lap so you know where you’re supposed to be😩
- whenever your stressed he’ll always trace the same pattern on your back, and it soothes you almost immediately
- veryy affectionate with you,he’s a man after all. He loves to show his woman how much he loves her.
- he always lifts up your chin/ grabs your waist before kissing you
- when you guys argue (which is rarely) he’s definitely a “come here” typa mf, bc he hates making his girl feel bad
- likes to bring you to his meetings just to have you sit there and look pretty
“Baby, what does that mean?” You ask while looking up at him innocently, the sight making him smile softly.
“It means knowing our location, babygirl (knowing our 20)” he responds, placing his hand on your head as you let out a soft “oh..” and continue to listen to him talk to the other warriors.
- likes to form tsaheylu before you guys fall asleep
- hugs from behind 🫦
- loves you guys height difference so much
- another one that babies tf outta you, no matter what. Especially if you’re close to your period/heat cycle
“Hey babygirl, how you feelin?” He says with a soft smile on his face as he walks over to you with a basket of your favorite fruits and cold water.
“Oo! You got yovo for me? You really didn’t have to do that, oeyä tìyawn. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded is all.” You explain, sitting up on your hands so he can sit down in front of you. And that’s when the pain hits. A sharp pain going straight up your spine into your head that makes you cry out. The ringing in your ears getting excruciatingly loud.
Jake is quick to get to your side, placing you on your side so your spine is stretched out. Reliving the pain almost immediately. “I know babygirl, I know. I’m right here.” He coos, pressing firm circles into the base of your neck, massaging out the excess tension. “Just breathe, okay, hon? I gotchu.”
- the emotional security this man provides is AMAZING LIKE🥹🩷
- you always crave him, not even just sexually but physically too. Just his smell,his vibe, his company. Just him. And it’s the same for him too.
- he never stops trying to impress you, just because he has you it doesn’t give him a reason to stop
- he does that thing where he’ll say your name and then point with his head/eyes to where he wants you to be😩
“And I just don’t know how I could-“ you ramble, stressed out because of the celebration later tonight.
“Y/n.” Jake says sternly, but softly. His baritone silencing you immediately.
He looks at you before looking at the bed and tilting his head softly, making you obey his order silently.
Once you sit on the bed, he stands between your legs, cupping your face with his big hands gently. “Baby..” he pauses to kiss your forehead gently. Making you melt into his touch. “Relax. We’re gonna figure it out,ok?” You nod softly at this, letting your nerves leave you.
“Plus I can’t wait to see how sexy your gonna look to-“ “OK, Alright!”
!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!
❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- lovesss having you in mating press and missionary, something about seeing all of your expressions makes him drill into even harder, just to see how you react.
- when you start whining and whimpering from the overstimulation, he’ll just cup your face and place soft kisses on your skin while saying, “I know, baby, I know.” Not even bothering to slow his pace on your poor cunt.
- “you look so pretty like this, baby” and “that’s my good girl” are his favorites
- finds it so hot whenever your tail wraps around him when he’s fucking you in doggy, it’s such an ego boost for him.
- pushes your legs back whenever he’s eatin it😩
- he loves cockwarming after a long day lemme tell you 😮‍💨
- he absolutely loves praising you, but also degrading you a little too🙈
“Awh hon, this wet just from a little kissing? Such a needy little slut for me.”
- his biggest kinks are breeding and size kink
- likes using toys on you, and definitely slips one inside you before you leave in the morning, just to watch your knees buckle whenever he presses that little button
- definitely an ass man, he loves squeezing it and watching it bounce whenever he has you in doggy
- “sir” kink 100%, especially when he’s punishing you.
- speaking of this tho, his brat taming? Phew lawd😩 he gives you exactly what you want and also you nothing at the same time.
“Ja-Sir!, please! Im-sorry!” You yelp, voice bouncing from his harsh thrust and tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation.
“Nuh-uh. Too late for that shit now, babygirl. Wanted to act like a little whore, so I’m gonna fuck you like one.” He growled, leaving yet another hard slap on your ass, making you whine in pain.
The pace he set was fast and deep, avoiding your sweet spot every time he thrusted back in. And pulling out whenever you got too close. It was absolute torture. Yet you craved it nonetheless.
“Sir..please. I can’t..” you say softly, making him finally hit your sweetspot with his thick tip, turing you into a moaning mess. “Alright, babygirl. But this is the only time you’re cumming tonight.”
- forehead kisses after sex🥹
- speaking of kissing, he’s such a good kisser (obvi bc he has experience but still🙄) he always goes at the pace you want, he knows where to put his hands, and he always puts so much feeling into them like ugh🤤
- cockwarming with you while you sit in his lap>>
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𝑳𝒐’𝒂𝒌
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❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- such a cuddle bug, like my baby loves being touched and touching you
- when you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you close to him. (Even tho he’s eye level with you because he’s so tall😭)
- hates seeing you sad, angry, etc and he does everything in his power to get you out of it.
“Hey mama, I got you some chocolate norm had stashed in the fridge.” He announces while walking into your room, shutting the door behind him with his foot.
“Thank you, sweet boy. I’m not that hungry though..” you say softly, tone quiet and deadpan. His ears perk up and flick at the tone of your voice, brows knitting together at your mood.
“Mama, what’s the matter?” He says softly as he climbs into your large bed, fit for the both of you. You say nothing, instead just rolling over and wrapping your arms around his much larger frame.
Chuckling softly at this, he kisses your head lovingly. “It’s ok, mama. I gotchu”
- likes teaching you the lingo his dad uses on the throat com, he just loves how genuinely intrigued you are when he tells you about it
- gets jealous very easily, he’ll be so quick to pick a fight with someone it’s not even funny
- hates when people touch his hair but loves when you do it
- whenever you guys talk, he always does the triangle method without realizing it. And it gets you flustered every single time😭
- “my girl can wear whatever tf she want but if you touch her ima break your jaw, it’s that simple” typa bf
- loves playing with your hair/ braiding it
- always stares at you, always. Whenever you walk by him and flash him a quick smile his whole train of thought just stops, kiri and neteyam always make fun of him for it😭
- especially if you guys are talking in a group of people, just a lil hand hold or eye contact with you will have this man melting
!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!
❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥
- he’s definitely an eater just like his dad and teyam, but before he eats it he always kisses your thighs and ya lips (both of em…bc we all know know these men are js as much of pussy kisses as much as they are pussy eaters yfmm???)
- the second he puts his hair into that ponytail..phew yk you done for😩
- loves doing the finger + tounge combo js to hear you scream and cry out his name
- speaking of that he loves hearing you say his name, deadass makes his eyes roll back just because of the sound of your voice and the way your pussy squeezes him so hard
- does the knee thing whenever you guys make out (and always has his hands on ya tittes🤭)
- the make outs you guys have?..phew😩 sloppy and slow and bodies all pressed tg😩
- you put on a mini skirt one time as a joke and phew lawd..the way he bent you over so quickly and fucked your brains out🫦
- steals his dads camera to take pictures of you so whenever you guys are apart he has something of you to keep him company 🫶🏽
- absolutely adores your body, he loves how soft and squishy it is, especially your thighs and ass
- such an ass man, (like Jake😭)
- loves having you in doggy and missionary
- also I see him liking 69ing too, but he didn’t realized he loved it so much until you introduced it to him
- a switch, loves being in control and making you a cockdrunk mess for him but also loves when you fuck him
- he has such a huge oral fixation, like if you stick your fingers in his mouth while you’re riding him, he turns subby so quick 😮‍💨 or whenever you start randomly kissing and sucking on his hands his brain turns into putty, poor baby gets so overwhelmed by how good your mouth feels he almost cums untouched 🙁 breathing all heavy and face a mess.. ugh😍
- doesn’t really like quickies, but if you both are desperate he’ll do it. He just rather take his time with you, he loves watching you fall apart for him.
- he has a thing for whenever you touch his hands, like when you massage them gently and tell him how pretty they are or how nice they look he turns into a blushing mess, tail wagging and thumping against the floor wildly
- likes touching you in public to see how long you can keep quiet
- “Awh, what was that mama? I couldn’t hear you.” While having the most shit eating grin on his face
- loves teasing you about how much your tail sways and wags when you’re around him. And how much it’ll instinctively wrap around him.
- one of the ways he likes to punish you is making you sit in his lap while he tells you how to touch, cooing and teasing you when he sees your delicate, slow strokes turn more aggressive and needy. So he holds your hand to guide you at the pace he wants.
“Lo’ak!~ please..wanna cum so bad..” you whine frustratedly, moaning softly as he curls your fingers into your sweet spot. But it isn’t enough. You need him.
“Awe that’s too bad, baby. Shouldn’t have been such a needy slut before you got into this. Now you just gotta take it.” He says sternly, removing his hand from yours and placing them on your inner thighs.
“Lo’ak I-“
“I don’t care. Now keep touching, mama. And if I see you speeding up you’re not cumming at all tonight.”
- and yet anotha man that’s whipped asf for u, when you guys were officially mated, he swore he fell even more in love with you. Mf was already making plans for kids😭
- so so vocal😩 especially when you force him to be submissive(he acts like he hates it but yall both know damn well😭)
- another one who grabs your waist to grind you down onto him😩
- another “I’ll make it fit” mf, but he’ll taunt and tease you for how much your legs are shaking and the tears endlessly flowing from your eyes.
“Fuck!~ lo-lo’, wait..it’s not gonna fit..” you writhe and yelp, pathetically trying to push him away from you with your shakey legs.
He growls angrily at this, grabbing both of your legs with his hands and pushing them down next to your ears, folding you like a pretzel under his strong frame.
“Don’t, fuckin’ push me away, mama. Ever.” He seethes, your faces inches apart from each other. “Plus, your pretty little pussy seems to be doing just fine. Poor girl keeps getting greedier and greedier the more I push into you.” He places a slow, sweet kiss on your lips before pushing the rest of his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit to open you up even more.
The stretch makes you cry out and squirm, tears spilling down your face at the stimulation. “Awe, look at you sweet girl. Is my cock too much for you? You can handle it, baby. You said it yourself.” He teases, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face when you try respond to him, but all the comes out are little moans and whimpers.
He thrust into you softly, testing out the waters. You moan loudly at his slow movements, pussy clenching around him repeatedly as you reach for him aimlessly, mind already turned into mush. He chuckles at this, giving you his hand before carefully speeding up his pace. “My pretty girl, already cockdrunk? Mhm~ Fuck..can’t wait to turn you into my personal little cock sleeve~, want that, mama? Want me to fuck you so much that you only crave me?” His words make your pussy clench and squeeze around him repeatedly, letting him know everything he needed to before his pace turned ruthless.
──☆*:・゚──☆*:・゚──☆*:・゚
𝑨/𝑵~ bc why did this take sm more longer than an actual fic? Im done 😭 I tried to make them all as even as I could, but some of them have more than the other (let’s take a huge guess on who I’m talking ab😭). Might make another one for the girls tbh🤭 but I hope yall like this, and if you want me to write more lmk🩷 I had fun with this one🥰
𝑫𝒖𝒄𝒆𝒔🫶🏽,
𝑳𝒖𝒗𝒗4𝒋4𝒚𝒃𝒆11~
~
~
~
𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @professional-yapper @itchaboi-itchyboy @blue-slxt @hotdsworld @plooto @quicktosimp
𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒚 @eloquentreverie
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cruel-seduction · 18 days ago
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Theodore Nott Headcanons
Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.
(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)
mdni 18+
Theodore Nott 
6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).
Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).
He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).
(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)
Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.
His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.
Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.
"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."
You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.
His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.
“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.
Theodore Nott | Personality
He’s quiet, but it���s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.
(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)
His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.
Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.
"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."
Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.
However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.
Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.
"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"
Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.
Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)
Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.
Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."
(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)
A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.
Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.
"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."
Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.
Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)
Theodore Nott | Boyfriend
Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.
Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.
He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.
He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:
"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."
He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.
(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)
How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.
It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.
And then it hit him.
“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”
Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.
"What does this mean?"
"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"
"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"
Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.
"I love you."
You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.
"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."
Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.
Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.
"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."
Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).
The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.
"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."
(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)
The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:
At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.
If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.
"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.
Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.
He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.
Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.
Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.
Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.
Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion
If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.
The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.
"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"
Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.
But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”
(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)
Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.
"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."
He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.
And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.
Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.
"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."
Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.
Silk ties? Check.
Blindfolds? Of course.
Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.
And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.
Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.
"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."
Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.
"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."
And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.
In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.
"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."
Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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midnightwriter21 · 2 years ago
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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends
characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai
AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry
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TENGEN
- this isn’t just a little fling
-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf
-he wants to be your HUSBAND
- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP
- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband
- ur getting 3 wives too
- it’s a package deal
- overprotective!!
- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission
- my heart was bursting
- carries u around
- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor
- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are
- he’s bigger and taller
-he's big all over if ykyk
-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby
- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute
- he’s absolutely mocking you
-which brings me to…
- this man teases the HELL out of you
- but with love
- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives
- in his mind ur alrdy married
- and he is NOT letting you go
- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it
- 4 lifer fr
- id marry him
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SANEMI
-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
-he’d tear it UP
-and i’d let him
- loves you so much
- doesn’t show it in public
- but in private?
- clingy as fUck
- he’s like ur shadow fr
- will follow u around all day
- hands on ur waist
- arm around ur shoulder
- holding ur hand
- he will not let go of u when ur alone
- in public he’s a lot less touchy
- but he will still stand near you
- jealous af
- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar
- you belong to him
- makes sure they know it
- makes sure you know it
-hickey MASTER
-no i will not elaborate
- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges
- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you
- but he does try
- he’s got a reputation to keep up!
-gotta act tough
-no weaknesses!!
- except for u
-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it
- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)
-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone
-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder
-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place
-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir
-claims ur super light no matter ur size
-hence the nickname "feather"
-i love him
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GIYUU
-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up
-speaking of chokeholds... ;)
-put me in one pls sir
-anyways
-awkward as fuck
-but he tries for u
-terrible with physical affection
-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved
-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch
-and make sure he's not uncomfortable
-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you
-takes a very long time to say "i love you"
-but can u blame him??
-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(
-because of this he's veryyyy protective
-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is
-is hurt or killed
-100% will die for u without a second thought
-not really a nickname type of guy
-remember he's awkward as hell
-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name
-and even that is only when y'all are alone
-but still
-even if he doesn't always show it
-you are always on his mind
-he's on a mission and walking through a market?
-he's buying you a hairpin or som
-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?
-"i wonder if she'll like these"
-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET
-ugh soft for bf giyuu
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RENGOKU
-sunshine boy!!!
- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend
-all smiles all the time
-follows u around like lost puppy
-shows off for u
-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao
-thats him
-"did you see what i just did?!"
-if u didnt...
-he's doing it again
-wants to impress you so bad
-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence
-service bf!!
-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?
-he's on it
-you need help styling ur hair?
-welcome to rengoku's hair salon
-will attempt to dress you in the morning
-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head
-zipping up ur pants
-and tying ur shoes
-brags about you to anyone and everyone
-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow
-compliments compliments compliments!!!
-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it
-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart
-constantly confessing his love
-also lowkey speaks poetry for u
-some shit like
-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"
-ugh he's the sweetest baby
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MUICHIRO
-my airheaded angel baby
-i love him sm stop
-baby boy has a terrible memory
-that we alrdy knew
-but!
-he tries so hard for you
-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you
-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over
-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time
-can not and will not remember anniversaries
-unless they're written in that journal
-will pick u flowers
-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that
-but it's the thought that counts
-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts
-you wanna go on a date?
-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together
-maybe a picnic if ur lucky
-no nicknames from him
-he calls you by your name
-its all he can remember
-he's the cutest
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OBANAI
-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public
-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you
-at least not to the other hashira
-might not be glued to your side
-but he's got eyes on u at all times
-and someone is talking about you?
-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth
-he's tuned in
-and they better not say anything negative either
-mans turns murderous
-they will wake up to a snake in their bed
-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life
-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around
-cause he's got everything
-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of
-protective but not pushy
-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself
-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you
-you're not drinking enough water?
-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all
-haven't had lunch yet?
-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.
-on a mission with him?
-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything
-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either
-he's got ur back
-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames
-nothing too crazy
-especially in public
-mostly uses ur first name
-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while
-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"
-acts like a hard ass
-but he's soft for u
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suiana · 4 months ago
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yandere! harpy who tries offering you his mating feather because he just loves you so much! he wants you to be his and what better way than to make you his mate?
he had met you a few months back after you got lost in the forest. his part of the forest of course. the harpy was a little confused by the appearance of some random human in the dead of the night. what were you doing here?
unfortunately he never found out. but that didn't matter. if you didn't wanna share that's totally fine. (you were passed out and couldn't talk)
he's worried that you might die if he let you be though, so he decided to watch over you while you fell asleep on the floor of his cave. aw, you're so cute! humans are adorable! you'd probably scream and try to get away from him when you woke up so he'll hide away.
....what he didn't expect was to get smothered by you...
"eh? what are you-"
"fluffy birdman."
"ahahah.... yeah..."
and just like that, a beautiful friendship was formed. and he found out that you were actually looking for the harpy (him). he was... flattered? embarrassed? a human was looking for him? why?
"cause birds are cool. and you're a bird so why not? also, i'm a researcher :3"
"um... ahaha..."
you came back to visit him again and again after that encounter. bearing gifts, talking to him, sharing about your life, asking about his life... the harpy was beginning to become a little more than just protective over you. you gave him gifts! surely this must be some sort of mating ritual for humans!
how could a bird like him distinguish between pure interest and love?
and you realized that too. unfortunately by the time you noticed his change in personality, it was too late.
"will you accept my mating feather?"
his big round eyes, plagued with obsession as his cheeks flush a beautiful red. you could only step back in horror as the harpy flashed a deceivingly innocent smile.
"sorry..."
silence filled the air as the harpy's smile dropped. ah. you rejected him?
"w-why? was my feather not pretty enough? should i pick another one?"
the harpy's chirps soon turned frantic as e grabs you by the arms and stares right into your very soul. why, why, why? weren't you interested in him? you're his mate aren't you? you love him!
no, someone must've tried to steal you away from him.
"is there someone else? someone tried to take my mate from me?"
you could only let out a shaky whimper as you stared at how his expression did a 180. no longer was he smiling or staring at you like a lovesick fool. no, now he was... looking right into your very being like you belonged to him.
"must be some other human... no worries, i'll just keep you with me. you should be with me anyway. my mate."
oops. looks like you fucked with the wrong bird.
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drcranessweetestdoe · 10 months ago
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heyyyyy
could you do a Tommy shelby fic?
in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!
hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx
Finally mine
warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness
pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader
summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18
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(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.
It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.
One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.
For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.
That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.
“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.
(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”
———-
Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.
It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.
Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.
“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.
He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.
Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”
—----
From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.
Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.
He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.
—-----
Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.
When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.
She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.
Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.
~T.S
She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.
——-
By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.
She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.
She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.
A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”
He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.
He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.
While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.
When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.
“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.
“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.
“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.
“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.
“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.
“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.
“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”
He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.
He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.
“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”
He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.
Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—
“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.
“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.
He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”
“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.
“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.
Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.
“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.
“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.
When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.
He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.
After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.
“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”
He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”
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taglist: @your-nanas-house
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bamsara · 1 year ago
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Some side characters/cult members for The Rehabilitation of Death. This originally was just supposed to be some light sketches but now they're all fully lined up and colored oops
Info about all of them under the cut:
All followers were designed based off of the actaul follower forms in game. Characters in order:
Bremar 🦊 (He/Him): Boy that often gets peer pressured into doing dangerous or scary things by his friends/bullies. Good heart, not a lot of spine yet.
Finor 🐰 (She/They): Elderly follower.  A devoted follower, but much too in the habit of behaving like an overbearing grandmother to those who aren’t even her kits. Comes from bearing so many in life before losing them to heretics in the wilds. Lambert found her already aged out in the forest after her husband and family were slaughtered, and she has been caring for others ever since her rescue. Stern and not a big fan of PDA, but good heart.
Cow Nurse 🐄 (No Name yet, She/Her): A nurse that works in the healing bay; takes care of the injured and sick while the lamb is gone. Stern and easily frustrated but it comes from a place of concern.
The Shrew and The Otter (No names yet) 🐁🦦 (Both She/Her): Lovers that often leave their work posts to be affectionate with each other in secret (even though everyone already knows). Eventually asks the Lamb to officiate their wedding.
Joon 😺 (Any/They/Them) (Otherwise known as 'the yellow cat' from that one COTL short): The best farmer the cult has, wasn't born until long after the bishop's defeats, and is a part of the generation that is blissfully unaware of Bishops prior tyranny. Bright but a little nervous at times, the Lamb asks them to watch over a certain 'new arrival' as their own hands are full, and Joon becomes the unaware caretaker for a certain God of Chaos.
Paazi 🐸 and her parents🦅🦇: (She/Her for Paazi, Unnamed: Eagle is He/Him, Bat is They/Them): Paazi is a orphan rescue from Anura found as young as a tadpole, later adopted by this older couple. She is the frog that fell from the cliffside and was later saved by Narinder, in which gains him her parent's appreciation.
Grekimar 🐷 (He/Him): A lumber worker who was exiled from his village in Anura, and taken in by the cult as 'all past sins are forgiven here'. Very critical of Narinder's presence, and is one spit away from dissension
Jayen 🐻 (He/Him): One of the two followers Narinder killed during his dramatic arrival to the cult grounds when Jayen was just trying to protect his leader, later resurrected by Narinder and Lambert in Chapter 2. Conflicted about Narinder's presence: grateful to be resurrected (Lamb told Jayen that Narinder helped) but still traumatized from the murder. Feels tingly in his hand and arm often. Sweet but nervous.
Tyren 🐶 (He/Him): One of the stone miners. Rescued from Darkwood. The very 'golden lab retriever' personality makes him one of the more friendlier types; this dog has a big crush on the Lamb that goes past prophet idolization.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago
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could we get some gally headcannons please?👀
Whatever you want to write🩷
Thank you ❤️
gally in a relationship headcanons
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masterlist
finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.
the glade
enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.
he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.
sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.
you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.
'there's a thin line between love and hate'.
other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".
but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.
honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.
he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.
you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.
suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.
everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides
gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.
would probably end up in a fistfight over it.
he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.
he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.
despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.
guards you whenever you shower.
would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.
y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.
your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.
love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.
his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.
arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.
when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.
the last city
when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.
gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.
he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.
the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.
the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.
he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.
he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.
you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.
would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.
the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.
would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc
wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.
well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.
"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".
trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.
after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.
all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.
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erenjaegerwifee · 5 months ago
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Omg, you write so good!
Can you write something about Neteyam a little possessive about his secret crush towards his human female friend? I WOULD LOVE THAT SJSJSJS
OFC I CAN! This is such a fucking cute idea!!!!
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✧₊⁺ Crushing
Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader
Warnings: 18+, mentions of explicit actions
Disclaimer: my characters are aged-up! If u are uncomfortable reading don’t both interacting with my account
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Neteyam grew up with you. From since you were a babygirl he was always around or with you, neteyam was fascinated with your small form. The way you learned to walk long after he did even though you were only months apart.
He thought you were weird at first cause you were so small and not blue like him. You had no tail and no point ears, no golden eyes instead you were kind of dull, the only thing you both had in common was your black hair.
Other than that it was wavy not straight like him, your eyes were a different color from him, your skin was brown? A shade of brown? He didn’t know the name of the color. But one thing he does know, you were absolutely beautiful.
In your teen years when you went through puberty you didn’t think much off it, your body was changing but you changed with it so it wasn’t so shocking to you, but neteyam had a hard time keep his eyes to himself. The way your scent changed slightly every month, your body filled out in ways he didn’t know was possible.
He never knew why you stopped wearing na’vi clothes until he saw you in a little tank top and shorts running around with Yuk. The way you tits bounces in your bra, the way your thighs were squeezed into your little denim shorts, he knew your body would just fall right out of na’vi clothing.
Yet still he found you amazingly beautiful. It was weird but it worked out, he would never get to truly mate with you but his mother already liked you. You were probably the only human girl she allowed around. It was perfect for him yet, Neteyam was so scared to tell you how he felt.
What if you thought he was too big and scary? What if you laughed in his face at the thought of being with him? What if you didn’t like him back? His thoughts pledged his mind, he didn’t want to embarrass himself, he didn’t want to face rejection of the first women he had every loved.
But still, his mind never drifted to another woman. Even his family saw the way he looked at you, like you were his very own gift from Eywa. Neteyam had been the only person that put himself in danger to protect you and no matter how much cuts or bruises he received he was happy with himself knowing he kept his special girl safe.
Neteyam loved the way you tied your hair up, he’d spend hours out of his day watching you style your long pretty hair if he could, and he has a few times. Watching the way you’d make different braided hairstyles or ponytails you called them. He especially loved how cute you’d look when you got mad the Pandora humidity made your hair look like you’ve been electrocuted. He thought it was adorable the way you’d continuously run your hands over your head and nothing seems to keep down the frizzy mess.
He loved your sense of human style even though you didn’t have much to work with the clothes you would make from repurposed avatar clothing when they joined the Omatikaya clan and didn’t need them anymore. Or when you would use big petals and leaves to make cute tops and skirts that always seems to fit your figure perfectly.
Neteyam was undeniably in love with you and he would do anything for you to love him back. Tonight, he walked his way to the human outpost, it was late at night but thanks to the humans moving closer to the clan, your bedroom was only about 4 minutes away from his hut.
Neteyam knows you stay awake all hours in the night so he thought nothing off it when he saw the faith glow through your bedroom window. You had a nice view of the forest from there, it faced away from the clan so people couldn’t see you unless they looked. Neteyam made a habit of checking on you before bed so he went to the window before anything else.
He walked up to it you were in clear view, luckily since your bedroom light was on your window acted as a mirror for you, but he could see you clear as day from outside. He watched you lay in bed in an oversized t-shirt undoubtedly an avatar’s, your legs were bare and shiny, you shaved. Your hair was loose, it curled so pretty over your shoulders and you laid on a big pillow snuggled up to your fluffy sheets and blankets.
You looked like you were drowning under all that warmth you looked adorable. When you got up off your bed and walked across the room to your desk, your back turned to him letting him see the back of your t-shirt.
Neteyam was not prepared. Your t-shirt stopped right under your ass and you bent over to pick up something from the floor displaying for him your pretty pink panties that were riding up your ass just perfectly.
It’s been a long time since neteyam saw some skin on you, it make his cock harden just seeing a sliver of what no one else does. He dropped to him knees by your window sill now only his face was in view, not that you could see him. You were so sexy for a little thing. He wants so bad to lay it down on you.
Neteyam pressed his forehead up against the window starting at your plump pretty ass until you stood back up. Only then did he blink refocusing on your t-shirt and then it caught his eye.
His brain lagged taking in the word he knew all too well, on the back on your shirt was the word big and bold ‘SULLY’ it was undoubtedly his father’s old t-shirt but seeing you sport something with his name on it made him shiver.
You had to be his, you’re literally carrying his name. He swears if you pumped you full of his babies it would be when you had his name written down on your skin, maybe he could convince you to get one of those human tattoos, he had hear they were permanent. He’d love to fuck into you seeing his name displayed pretty on your lower back over your ass, of above your collarbone so he can watch you tits bouce and see his ownership at the same time.
You have to be his. He has to tell you how he feels. He can’t let you get away and fall for someone else no. If Eywa didn’t give him a sign you were meant to belong to him before, she did now. Or at least that’s what he got out of tonight.
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Tags: @rivatar @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp
✨ Part 2 is out! Here!
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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 6 months ago
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Old writing especially on Bo's and then Vincent's part. I realised that I was writing as if their s/o showcased their strength during later on into their relationship in the first three slashers, apologies.
A/n: I am no longer writing for Hannibal or any hannibal characters as I myself have forgotten my own perspective of them.
Slashers x reader who's stronger than them but doesn't look like it!
Warnings: blood and death on the ghostface duos part, very slight mentions of nsfw. But mostly fluff.
Slashers in this: Bo sinclair, Vincent sinclair and Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (poly)
Relationship: romantic!!
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Bo
It clawed at his ego, he's a pretty mean bastard and you know it 🫵.
He first thought of you as the most fragile and weakest person ever (and cutest), I mean, could you even lift a pot half filled with water?
Undoubtedly he used this assumption to 'help you' or more so at times tease you. He loves seeing your reactions and most definitely not because you're so small and kind to him, pfff of course not.
He just absolutely loves lifting you up and over his shoulder and he's definitely an ass guy. He loves ogling and smacking your ass but he won't get to that level until many many months later on. But he's still going to stare.
“Oh Bo, I think there's a rabbit under the truck!” You exclaimed to Bo as you noticed something white and moving below.
"An animal? *sighs* hold on, I'll get rid of that p-" He suddenly loses his ability to formulate words as he witnesses you lift the goddamn fuckin truck with one arm, and indeed there was a rabbit underneath.
“*gasp* it's so cute!” Bo cannot believe what he just saw. Damn, he gotta stop smoking so much it's messing with his brain. He's just staring at you as you pet the timid rabbit with your 'scrawny' arm.
He must admit he does fantasize about you lifting him up and shit, or topping him in bed. Whatever he's feeling that day, and he would rather swallow sand than ever admit that last part.... But y'know if you're up for it-
His cocky and prideful attitude seemingly making an apparent change, he would hold a cup or item you need above your head with a shit eating grin watching you get frustrated with him. Or when he would make jabs about you being too weak to lift three chairs at a time and would offer to help you. (So he could walk beside you.) But now... He still fucking makes jabs at you being weak, just to fuck with you even though he knows it's far from the truth. He loves making you seem like the little helpless princess and him being the asshole shining knight in armor.
You wouldn't mind tho would you? It's a win-win, you get to spend more time with your boyfriend and he gets to spend time with his girlfriend.
Vincent
So gentle and caring with you. He's gentle and caring with whoever he is with but your size just makes him think one wrong move and he's accidentally breaking your arm. And cause of this he can't help but be a worry wart at times and way too protective. Not budging even if you reassure him you're perfectly capable of doing something that requires strength.
During one of the dark evenings you walk with your lover in the forest, the side of the forest where there isn't roadkill so that you can breathe without torturing your nostrils. And finding some fire wood to spend the next dark hours star gazing and ranting to him while the sound of the fire crinkling and burning the wood serves as a nice background music.
Every step you take you hear the crunch of the dead leaves get crushed under your foot, both of you holding your flashlights. You have the warm and slightly calloused hand of your Vincent holding yours affectionately as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand and knuckles, gently tracing over and feeling the ridges and bumps.
You notice some fallen bark and shine your flashlight on it. "Vinny, look there's some firewood over there!" You exclaimed and shined your flashlight elsewhere, looking around more until you had shined it directly on a tree right in front of you that was occupied by a scary looking arachnid, its front limbs moving in a sluggish and relaxed fashion.
You let out a startled yelp and out of instinct your fist went to swing at the spider who somehow successfully managed to not get hit in the nick of time. This also startled your boyfriend who looked worriedly at you, his eyes scanned over to see that you were.. Fine! But the tree you punched wasn't. It has a big dent in it while the flesh of wood was cracked and damaged severely around the impact along with many splinters.
"I'm so sorry Vincent! There was a spider and I got scared!"
He almost let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn't anything serious but he can't get his eyes and mind off the injured tree. Did you... seriously do that? He gently took your hand and examined it, it seemed perfectly fine except for redness, light bleeding and a couple splinters on your knuckles.
He slowly raised one of his hands, pointing towards the punched tree. 'Did you do that?' Is what's probably going through his head. You chuckled sheepishly and nodded in confirmation. He sighed. For now, he'll worry about your fist.
Does this interaction change how he treats you?... Kind of. He isn't too pushy as he was since he now knows how capable you are of handling yourself but there's still that feeling in him, something that gnaws at his inner core for him to help you. He wants to feel useful and to serve you in any way he can, so...please let him dote over you still..? (Of course you will, you can't say no to him.)
If you want to pick him up he'll entertain you, though he'll be extremely flustered and giddy about it. He likes this way more than he should (in his opinion). How comical is it? He's a large 6'1 grown man being carried princess style by his tiny s/o. Despite all this, he still hopes you need him as much as he needs you.
Thomas
Trust me when I saw it really took Thomas by surprise. He's a really big guy and you say this little thing is stronger than him? Oh please, humor him after dinner.
He's a busy man with a lot on his plate, and you seemingly looking like the most harmless person in the world doesn't help, he constantly feels like he has to tend to you and supervise you from a certain officer.
Will usually not allow you to help him when he's working, it depends. He feels guilty letting yourself get caught up with all this but if you insist he'll gladly accept the extra hand with honest gratitude. But generally- 'Back away honey, you might get dirty.' Is what he wishes he could say.
In his eyes you're a saint, an angel. Made perfectly to fit in the space between his thighs he's sitting down and there's no flaw in the way his large hands cups your cheeks with those pretty eyes of yours staring into his – no room for mistake or complain. You're adorable.
The first time he allowed you to help him you admire your handsome behemoth of a lover chopping wood. Appreciating the rolled up sleeved that gave you a good view of his arms, his muscles flexing as he brought the axe down – after he was done with the first small batch of logs you hurried to grab the others.
Tommy watched with amusement and adoration before shifting his weight to help you but stopped as you started walking towards him five logs resting effortlessly in your arms. It didn't even seem to faze you as if it was just you were only a bunch of baby ducks.
Tommy watched in silence as you laid them out on the table, still kind of processing it before nodding his head in gratitude and resuming to chopping them up. He'll bring this up later, maybe. For now he'll focus on getting his work done and spending more with you, and your soft words.
He doesn't really care if you're stronger than him or not, as long as you love him and don't try to run away it's all good. If you want he'll stop trying to do everything for you even though he knows you don't need any assistance – he's so used to working around the house he feels restless not doing anything at all.
If you want to carry him, do it. He's all yours but please do it in private he won't be able to handle the embarrassment if his family sees it. And although he prefers to be the dom he doesn't mind it if you wanna take charge every once in a while and throw him around.
Plus, it creates something pleasantly warm in his stomach.
Michael.
He thinks he's going insane. (He already has.)
He's Michael Myers, the most ruthless killer Illinois has ever seen for the past decades. And you're saying this small creature that he's inhabited has greater strength than him... Yeah, no.
And then he sees you picking up three bodies out of the house with your bare hands while cleaning up the evidence of his the murder he left, quietly observing you. He won't admit it but it kind of irks him. He's supposed to be the one with power in this relationship and quite frankly he doesn't know the true extent to your power.
He warms up to it eventually – although it's more of he doesn't give a fuck anymore. You're not completely weak and helpless? Great, he doesn't have to worry about you as much. Key word: as much. He still does worry a lot when you're out for long hours – he's not worried you're injured or in danger (not anymore) but more as in you're not leaving him, right? Or ratting him out to the police?
Do not ever attempt to pick him up or anything even remotely close to that unless you want a glare from those void, soul-less eye sockets of his mask Or if you want a love tap on the head and cheek. If you give him enough guilty smiles and let go of him he'll let you off the hook. if not, bear the consequences. (They don't even do anything anyways, lmao)
He feels so incredibly annoyed when you start treating him like a child, telling him to go sit down or lie down in bed after he pulled a few all nighters and the fact you successfully manage to pull him back into bed: God dammit, why the hell are you even so strong and you're so small!? Grumpily he does stay put but only if you're with him too.
A man feared by hundreds, if not thousands because of the sheer power and mercilessness he leaves in trails of every step he takes in public... And then there's you, you're half his size and you have more control over him than he'd like. He'd never kill you though, not intentionally, but that will also most likely not happen.
Speaking of killing, don't think he won't murder someone if they attempt to hurt you and gets their ass kicked by you anyways. You attack, he lands the finishing blow. Don't protest, he won't listen.
Billy n' Stu
They're both pretty lean so you can believe it, if not for your given figure. They both adore it, so who cares? Billy and Stu will, eventually.
It was in the heat of the moment, you tell yourself but you remember in vivid detail the day where you saw the bloody escaping victim running towards you – adrenaline pumping in your veins, your mind immediately went into fight mode and swung a fist at their skull. You remember the sickening crunch as blood slowly pooled from their fractured cranium when they lifelessly fell down to the floor.
They first helped you with the lingering guilt first before Stu started annoying you.
''Can you punch me like that next but with a bit less-''
"No!"
Alright, no worries but now he's asking you to lift him up to reach things that he does not need help on. Maybe even just carry him and run around the house. (Don't be fooled, he just wants to be carried around like a child again.) Fluttering his eyelids at you and holding up a jar of pickles. 'Y/n, I can't get this to open!' Yes he can.
Billy, although tries to act neutral but can't help but let his thoughts wander. 'Wow... Strong girl... Can choke me...' He thinks to himself as he watches you and Stu. Not as if he'd ever admit that. He pretends he's disinterested in getting in your arms - no, he just doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But if you persist he'll begrudgingly agree. He indeed liked it.
Stu obviously takes a positive reaction, he loves getting dominated. You can take that however you like. Billy on the other hand feels conflicted, if he's not stronger than you then how will he stop you if you try to leave them or plan to rat them out? Assuming this is during the beginning of your relationship. But overtime the more he takes a good look at your face those thoughts will slowly drown away, there's no way you would, right?
The slashers will probably swoon if you agree to help them place the bodies where they want them to, like hanging them in the trees or something.
Billy keeps it more lowkey. Preferring to keep you in his lap and rest his chin on top of your head. Stu takes your strength to his advantage. When he gets drunk he'll whine and ask you to carry him to bed, and take his socks off. Annoying fuck but you love him either way. And Billy too.
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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago
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— His Mate
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Pairing || Yandere werewolf! Ghost x gn reader
Summary || Working on a dangerous mission, you and Ghost re-meet after being separated. However, something goes wrong— making Ghost reveal his trust identity and his obsession for you, to come forth.
Warnings || yandere, lycropathy, imprinting(?), and smut: dubcon, gender-neutral genitals, descriptions of the reader having pubic hair, talks about kids, size difference, blood obsession(?), oral (reader receiving), breeding, knotting, and slight somnophilia
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It’s a dire situation. 
To the explosions, nearly being hit by a bullet, and now being separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigate north to a safe house, rather a cabin dispatched amongst the coms you’d flipped too. 
The language was hardly understandable, but you were able to pick up some words. 
It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain pouring down on you as lightning cracks above your head. Gear soaked through, hair damp and covered in likely blood and mud; if not more. The moisture and ice surrounding you was working to create a deep freeze into your narrow bones, and it’s working– pretty damn well, too. 
Mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, heart lurching out of your chest as your soaked fingers fumbled with your gun to the sodden ground.  
The moist and crispy air of midnight caked your face with frozen lids, blood staining your face. Your lungs were burning, legs cramping and stinging from the amount of running you’ve achieved. 
You continue going, thunder rumbling in the clouds above, exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you shoot and cut-throat enemies from behind, their thick blood staining your face, and hands. Creating an emotionless barrier; nothing behind your eyes but annoyance.
If it weren’t for your radio, you’d be pestering Ghost. But due to the stray bullet, that certainly would’ve ripped through your heart if not for the layers of plastic settled over it, you had to count on your distance and not for help.
Just a little more, and you’ll arrive. And from there, you can focus on radioing the team; shooting a private message to Ghost to ensure your safety. He was protective, after all. But, for now, you had too—
Crack. 
Before you could react, chaos erupts — the sounds of trees cracking down as an explosion comes from behind you. The wave of warmth and smell of gunpowder settled into your lungs. A bomb had gone off. 
Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages. The thumps of bodies and flurry of shouts shot you to your very core. Breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you find yourself hiding behind a sturdy tree.
The bark cutting at your palms, a reminder of the unforgiving chaos that surrounds you as you brace for incoming fire. Instantly, you gripped the gun slung behind your shoulder and started reloading it; cursing at yourself for not doing it sooner. 
As it clicked, ready and loaded, someone shouted out a name. 
“Ghost!” someone wails, and your blood runs cold, eyes widening. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping mercenaries into the mud beneath them. 
You hear yelled orders, fighters urged to retreat by the incoming deaths, like a poison parade. 
Before you know it, all that’s left is the sound of your ears buzzing, the aftermath of the familiar bomb — the infinite number of trees swaying as more lightning struck ahead of you. Your brain was splattered, focusing on your inner voice instead of the upcoming footsteps. 
“Cobra, come out.”
You hesitate, teeth digging into your bottom lip. But with the thick, British accented voice familiarized to your brain, you eased your head out, clenching your grip on the gun as you checked for any more enemies before your eyes landed on the man itself. His hulking build that you could recognize anywhere. 
You’d be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight, fallen enemy combatants surrounded him, his gear covered in blood, as was his skull mask stained with gore. 
It was considered normal — but with the moon outlining his silhouette, the light bouncing off the turbid forest floor behind him, it was intimidating. 
Almost as if it was a warning about what was coming. What was ahead in the future. 
“Price sent me your last coordinates before you went AWOL,” Ghost states, clearing his throat as he bent down. Knees loudly popping as his hand curled around the knife, deepened inside a soldier’s head, and pulled it out with a thick sound. 
The gush of gore, and the slick sound of the knife easily coming out, made you cringe. Your throat tightened, you wanted to gag but stopped yourself as he shot a look at you. 
“Left quite a mess back there,” he added, looking at you with sharpened eyes as he stood back up. His knees popping yet again. His gun shuffled as he wiped the bloody knife onto his pant leg, before putting it back into the original place. 
You forced a smile, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “It’s what I’m best at, no?”
He let out a chuckle, something that wasn’t rare or common to hear. But it was something. Something that left you tingling. 
He stayed quiet and looked at you — almost like he could see, and feel you. Though, he spoke up after noticing your awkward stance.
“Le’s get going, safe house is ahead. From there, I’ll radio Price.”
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Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you’re soaked, the scent of iron and mud assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood off your face and hands. 
Though, as you look up at Simon, you quickly notice his demeanor is off; something amiss. Sure, he’s cold. But, he’s colder – brown eyes that are seemingly covered in nothing. Almost like something has taken over him, nothing of him is there; non-exist, and non-recognizable.  
His distant and blocking agency seems somewhat peculiar – lost in thought, intermittently clicking his tongue whilst cleaning his gun. Concerned, you gently approach, offering a caring inquiry: “You okay?” you ask. 
To which, he nods with a grunt. But you didn’t buy it, it was clear something was bothering him. But he’s known for being stubborn and not one to let people in unless necessary. 
Ghost had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room – looking quite ridiculous. He was attempting to fit himself in the short-legged chair as he was cleaning his weapons, and you had to hold back a laugh. You dipped the dripping rag back into the hot water, dragging it across your skin.
“Y’know…” you started, making him stop before looking up at you. “You can tell me whatever is botherin’ you. I’m not like Johnny.”
“I’m fine.” 
You raised your eyebrow at his reply, making him grunt as a less efficient, threatening way of ‘quit it before I make you’. 
“Are you sure?” You pressed on, “It definitely seems like something is on your mind. And while I may not—”
Ghost said your name in a threatening tone. His brown eyes watching you from beneath the mask. Eyes boring into you, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime and gore that failed to wash away. 
You sighed, and puckered out your lips like a duck, “Whatever you say, Mr. Grumpy-pants.” 
Minutes blurred by you, and before you know it, the small fire had set itself out; embers flickering around as that was the only thing keeping you two sane. You groaned, looking behind you the next minute before standing up.
“Going to get more wood,” you say out loud, and Simon had nodded — letting yourself feel a bit more relieved before your hand barely curled at the knob, and it’s when you heard it; the most guttural sound that sounded like a blend of a growl and snarl.
He said your name in a painful whisper. Not your code name– your right name. 
As you turn, you see him on his knees; his large hand grasping his chest. Heart attack? No. Something highly on not happening. But… panic attack?
“Ghost?” you asked, concerned, stepping forward before stopping at his shaking head. He was in pain and it was hurting you.
“Fuck—” he grunted, heaving as his body started to shake violently. “D-on’t come closer.”
Your eyebrows raise automatically, looking at him eerily. “Why can’t I get close to you?”
He grunted, moaning out in pain again, as yet another growl erupted from the bellows of his chest. And before you could say anything else, his holster gun fell from his arm to the floor. The sound of clattering and the smell of aforementioned sensed you to reality. 
“I- we need to get you up, what’s going on—!”
Almost as if the universe tricked you, ripping came next — the man you knew was no longer there. But instead, a hulking black-wolf took his place, boring holes in you and cracking each bone in his skeleton into places. 
Like a Cobra, you stiffened. Ready to attack the friend you once knew. 
“Ghost…?” you confessed, heavy breathing as adrenaline shot through you. By the time you whispered his name, he grew in size. Being too large. Too inhuman. Monstrously. Midnight mass fur grew onto his body, the sounds of bones breaking and reforming, his gear tearing off like nothing as scarred ears, a large snout, and patched fur grew all over him like parasites — paralyzing you like venom. 
You couldn’t fathom his form, taking a few steps back as he whined out in pain; teeth, once human, now becoming a famous creature that you imagined as a myth. 
And these eyes, they were wide and bright as Amber and honey, the color that contrasted greatly through the darkness. They were large and squinted, and the sound of snarling brought you to know you were being threatened.
But yet, you couldn’t do anything. 
His military boots outgrew, rising and shredding apart as the feet he once had, turned into paws with long claws. The curving nails scraped into the wooden floor, snapping of planks and splinters flew around his feet, echoing the noises of his cracking bones and whines of pain. 
It was practically towering over you, all muscle and height, and it made you feel powerless underneath it, trapped under its hardened gaze and intensity of its possible strength.
You let a small gasp out, uneven breaths being snaked out as he licked his chops, rearing back, bending the wooden-planks and the fallen gun underneath his weight. Turning his canine head at your expression. 
“S-imon…?” you whimper, hands shaking as you winced at the bones still cracking. 
His large head came down, eyeing you deeply at one side before walking forward, nudging at your leg. The sound you didn’t want to let out was paralyzed by fear, you didn’t want to let him know you were rather scared, as you watched with no knowledge of what he could do next. 
He left you no room to move, the fear finally choking you of words. And you could only babble out words that would normally leave you embarrassed.
“Who— what… are you?” your gaze turned to him, reminding yourself that your demand was weak. You knew so, but a bigger part of you was buried in denial. He was Ghost. Still is.
His eyes, once cold, a beautiful brown, and stood on deck, now were sharp and bright with yellow, contrasting so strongly against his scarred, ripped fur and inky shades. His head barely grazed the top of the ceiling, his ears flickering as more bones cracked in place. The snapping and crunching was horrifying. 
“Smell– your smell… sweet,” those words fell into your stomach and sank like lead. His whiskered lips and sharp teeth curved around his spotted gums. He growled, smelling– grinning at your feared state, “Mine. You’re mine.” 
Before you could think, your feet kicked his chest backwards — he roared, taking a few steps back from your move. 
Seconds blurred by you, and right as you lunged toward the door beside you, nearly skinning your knees on the floor, you heard a thick snarl from the beast behind you. 
His claws, bigger than your head, were suddenly pinned at your hips and yanked you back, making you face plant onto the floor before he dragged you enough feet away for his satisfaction. Capturing you more into the depth of his hold.
Blood– you tasted it before feeling it, your nose bleeding from the impact, and you groaned; the smell of iron making its way back to you, and he noticed this. 
He turned you right-side up, his claws ripping holes in your clothes. You let a small whimper out, as his large head came to nudge at your shoulder. Almost as if he was trying to calm you, showing he wasn’t a threat.
He whined out, taking your quiet frame and heaving breaths as more fear — apologizing for hurting his beloved. 
And with that, his warm wet and pink tongue suddenly started lapping at your arm, then your neck and finally a rough lick from your jawline up towards your nose. Starting at, licking up the very same blood that’s coming down your face — nearly suffocating you with his rough texture. 
He needed to comfort his mate. His, his, his!
You grimaced at his tongue, the rough black and pink muscle not stopping when you moved side to side, trying to dodge it. Was he now tasting you for taste? 
You pushed at its brawny chest to get some space, but he didn’t listen– his rough tongue continuing his assaults. Behind him, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him; the thick tail slightly wagging at your blood. 
Fuck. What was he going to do? Rut you? Fill you? Mark you? Kill you?
Suddenly, he growled — earning a gasp from you, as you watched his pupils dilate, his tongue coming out to heave; dried blood on his muscle. 
“Don’t mean to scare ya’. Jus’ drivin’ me insane, sweetheart,” he states, licking your jaw one last time before his claws – trying to on being careful – shreds your gear and pants to bits. 
You answered with your frozen stiff body, a long wine erupting from the man above you as your teeth chatted one against each other.
“Let… me go, Simon. Now!” you demanded, but his claw rose from your bruised hip and cocked a sharp nail to your chin, making you look up at him; his golden irises digging holes into your soul. Deepening his animal need for you.
“I jus’ got you, I promise I’ll treat you well.” he purred in your ear, licking yet another strip at your face before making his way down to your sex. 
“Simon–!”
“You’ll be mine, nobody will take you away from me; fill you full of my cum. Mark you, take care of you. Until I’m satisfied.” he said while lifting your lower body up from the ground, grabbing your ankles to set them beside his head, his hot breath shaking you to your core. 
“NO!” you screamed, suddenly snapping back to reality. His ears folded in an angry expression, the sound positively jarring to his sensitive ears. “No– you can’t, no, no! You won’t–!” 
His body was heavy, one paw leaning against your stomach to keep you still. You didn’t even realize you were squirming until he applied more weight, earning you a whine that you didn’t even know you could let out until now. 
“Mine,” he growled, “That’s what you are,” Simon pressed his wide hips forward, making you feel his cock– his long, swelling hot, and erect cock that was awaiting to be stuffed inside you. His knot pulsing, as if it was begging to feel your taut walls clenching around it. 
You shook your head, denying his claims. Denying his appearance. This is a dream, this is a dream. A dream!
But when he tore away your undergarments, flattening his tongue over your fluttering entrance, the sensation caused you to realize —- nothing of this ‘dream’ was fake, but instead of a standing still. 
He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet, and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”
You attempt to swat him away, but to no avail, he growls at your antics, showing his teeth as a warning.
“Tastes good,” he purrs, his deep and raspy voice shuddering you. He started licking long, broad strokes and making unwanted moans escape your lips — fingers digging into your bruised thighs, and his saliva adding to the sensations. 
You cry out, bucking your hips into his maw as he grunted– licking up all your juices like his last meal. Walls clamp down on his thick tongue, thrusting it in and out of your hole as you’re subjected to the pleasure. 
Though, just as your stomach starts getting warm; your abdomen heating up like a lamp, he pulls away. Making you whine out. 
“M’ make you cum in a few.”
Ghost towers over you — his thick structure showing off his heated, non-sheathed cock. Making you realize what he’s referring to as his swollen tip nudges at your entrance; the pulsing heat making you clench your thighs unintentionally. 
“Won’t fit–! No. Simon—!”
You cried out as he growled in response, his tongue licking your neck to soothe the oncoming pain. It hurts so bad. Yet so good as he fills you so full. 
You prayed he’d be gentle– but you knew better. And in a rough instant, your stomach swelled, and fire consumed you. Air rushed out from your lungs from his thick, girthy cock into your tightening, barely prepped channel, and you quiver in ecstasy at how utterly full you are right now. 
The beast, Simon, grunts and heaves; some of his drool drops on your face as he tries to calm you down with him nudging his head into your face. 
“Oh– fuck,” you whispered, panting as your teeth bit into your bottom lip.
Simon’s thick paw continued to press on your stomach, hitching out breaths as his cock slowly started to piston in and out of you. “You’d look so pretty, filled with my babies. Getting all swollen and full of my cum.”
He smirked– his thick teeth shining in the dim fire, dragging his tongue up your neck.
“Breed– need to breed you,” he gave a harsh thrust, making you feel the thick part of his cock pushing inside. He let you cry out as your legs curled around his lower hips, tightening your hold as he hit that part. 
And without another word, he shoves his cock back out and in, pounding into your soaked hole with animalistic, determination and vigor speed. With Simon being so deep into you, you didn’t even realize you were begging for more, and more. 
“Wa—eugh” you gurgled, smearing your tears against his fur as with each slap of the furry balls on his body, he sank further. His fat cock splits you open and makes a mess of sweat, tears, and drool on the wooden floor of the abandoned shack. 
It’s too much, too much— it’s too good.
Your walls tighten up around him, making him snarl out, bullying his cock into you at a more rapid pace as he pulls away from your neck; grunting in your ear with promises. 
“Fill you with my cum– belly so full. Full of my pups, I promise.” 
As if he didn’t nearly split you in half, he took himself almost out; gripping your hips before turning you on your stomach, making you support yourself on your bruised knees as his claws nicked your skin. 
He spread apart your ass, plunging back inside, and continuing with his animalistic pace; heaving and snarling above you. 
“—plea—god!” your nails scraped at the wood, leaving marks that you didn’t care about. All you cared about was his knot. His, his, his. Everything of his cum. “Fuck–! Knot… Wan’ your knot!” 
You babble nonsense, your body growing tired as his knot was slowly getting bigger– creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But, interrupting your soon-to-be climax was Simon coming down, leaning on your lower back for support as he snarled, aggressively nipping at your shoulder before licking the open wound. 
You were his — his mate, his to claim in every way. 
Without hesitation, he bit on the back of your shoulder. Hard. You cried out, feeling blood trickle down your arm and neck, tears pricking in the corner of your ears. And Simon whined. 
He didn’t mean to do that! He was so out of focus on breeding you, he had hurt you. Comfort. He needs to comfort you.
Simon didn’t stop licking– not until he saw that your tears were long gone, and the smell of fear and shock had gone away. But instead, blinding lust and more was demanded. 
And you could no longer talk, pain lingering, but pleasure buzzing on the edges of your nerves. Numbing every sensation but the beast within you and blanked the world but him, and his inhuman cock stretching you too big. Time didn’t exist. 
Your body grew tense– a white-hot flash washing you whole. Your abdomen was tightening so much it hurt, and then it snapped. And suddenly — everything grew too much. 
You cried out, tears forming out of stimulation, but he wasn’t done. You couldn’t think anymore, and after several moments of his vigorous fucking, he howls– his knot expanding painfully, stretching it to unbeknownst size, and his cock twitches violently as he spills inside, the large load obscene within you. 
The stretching ended with an audible pop, stuffing you completely as he bucked his hips at your squirming. “G—” you stumbled with the start, “G-get out of me!” you tried elbowing him, pleasure growing to a near painful degree before his claws grabbed your bicep gently. 
Then, your stomach felt heavier. It hurts so good, and so hot.
He purred, “Be quiet, honey— m’ filling you real hot.”
He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to ‘clean’ you. Nudging you with his wet nose into your neck affectionately, 
You’re a proper mess now. The load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky. He held you against his taut chest, rumbling in a way that felt like a cat purring; somehow soothing you. 
His thick claw gripped under your chin, forcing you to look at him as he huffed quietly, “I’ll take real good loving care of ya’ and our lil’ pups.” he jostled you somehow deeper to just the right spot, and you whimpered; quite in a state of being fucked raw by a beast who has it’s knot stuck inside you. 
“…are we staying like this?” you asked, looking down, curious and intimidated by the sight below. Mustering some strength, you slid down a tingling hand to support you as Ghost licked your shoulder. 
“For a while, I reckon,” you arched your back as his teeth slithered across your beating pulse. 
Fuck, a single movement by him has you wanting more. But you’re tired. So, so tired. 
You tremble and whimper, feeling his cock still hard — your limbs now coming limp with exhaustion as your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re so tired on Ghost’s monstrously cock that you don't even notice that he lays down with you, cradling your body close to his warm one.
“You’re mine. All mine,” he mutters, feeling your heartbeat succumb to sleep before he starts grinding into your ass. You whined, murmuring something. But he shushes you, making you fall into a blissful sleep as the man, the monster you once knew, keeps rutting into you from behind.
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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slamminslamminmcgill · 4 months ago
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Can you pretty please write a fic where Logan and Deadpool are having an argument about how they should be fucking the reader, like going over techniques while the reader is just drooling and mindless like “whaaa”
hell YEAH i love getting fucked stupid by big strong men >:3333€
this is a rly good prompt btw so i could GLADLY expand on this but for rn here’s a snippet 😌
warning: dp, painal, sadomasochism, mild transphobia, slurs, degradation, overstim, dubcon, daddy kink
anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/bussy
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They talk about you like you’re not even there.
Well, physically you were right there with them. Mentally you were nowhere to be found, certainly not on their conversational level. Wade had been bouncing you in his lap for god knows how long. His cock in your cunt had thoroughly fucked your train of thought off the tracks. Your internal monologue was nothing but bitchy whimpers and primal burning for more. Welp. What do you expect? Back to back orgasms will do to that to you. You couldn’t even recall how the argument started, and context would’ve really been helpful.
“Wow! Okay! That’s a shitty thing to say to our guest! Wanna apologize and maybe try that one again, JK Rowling?”
"Oh, get fucked. That's not what I meant and you know it." Logan kept his firm hands on your shoulders, assisting your bounce, since your legs were damn near liquified.
“Mmmmm, ah, gah-fuuuck… Wh... Wha? Huh?”
“How is that not what you meant?" Wade, questioned, maintaining his steel grip on your ass. He felt that he had to protect you from the big bad wolf and his transphobia. "You just said he’s not a real man because he has a pussy. A tight, sweet, JUICY pussy that feels like a fleshlight full of microwaved angel dust. And yet SOMEHOW this makes him not a real man to you? Maybe you’re just not man enough for HIM, sugar-tits!”
"I said you gotta fuck him like a real man. You’re being too good to him. It's gonna fuel his ego, and I’m not letting you turn him into a spoiled brat. Fuck him in the ass, that'll teach him a lesson. Show him this shit ain't a joke."
"No way! Ass is ass is ass is ass. Everybody's got an asshole, peanut, and newsflash? They all feel the same. But this boy's pussy? This hot buttery premium A5 wagyu bussy that's—SQUEEZINGmyfuckingdicksotight, oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, angel baby, sweet boy, you feel so GOOD! Making your Daddy feel so good, good boy!"
Praise was easy enough to process. It didn't require any cognitive effort on your part. You didn't have to weigh in and have an opinion, you just have to take it, and be grateful for it. "Hah, fuck! Thank—thank you, Daddy! FUCK! Wade! WadeWadeWadeWade—WADE! WadeWadeWade..."
But Logan wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious. Make him take it up the ass, or I will."
“Un-be-lievable. You know something? You must be the one guy in this universe who could see a whimsical forest path that leads to a magical unicorn fountain, and says 'Oh, no, none for me. Let me go spelunking in the poop-chute, thank you very much!' And if that's not the single gayest thing I've seen in my entire—"
"WADE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Eeep!"
Oh, you poor thing. He nearly gave you a heart attack! It's terrifying when someone yells out of nowhere, especially when that someone has you naked and vulnerable in their hands. Logan had slammed you down on Wade's cock when he yelled, completely stopping the scene and trapping you between them. Woah. Time out. Shit has officially just gotten real. You and Wade held bated breath, and traded a glance that said "We're cooked. Nice knowing ya."
But Logan just laughed at you both. Delighted by the atmospheric tension he had just created.
"Heh... heh heh heh..."
Then he relaxed his grip on you, and those big strong calloused man hands started to explore. They massaged your shoulders, rubbed your neck and jaw, and groped and squeezed wherever they pleased. All the while, his hot breath, tinted with whiskey and malice, ghosted over the shell of your ear as he talked. He spoke very firmly. Targeted. Slow. He wanted you to get every fucking word.
"Listen, bub. I’m not about to question whether or not you’re a man, okay? But I’ll say this. When real men wanna take cock? It hurts. Oh, it hurts real bad. And most of ‘em don’t get the luxury of a cushy little cunt that’s meant to take a pounding. No, son. Real men get ripped apart by cock. It makes them cry and scream and sometimes their tiny little rims even bleed because of it. And you know what? They love it. They love how much it hurts them. Cause they’re men. Strong men. And you’re no fuckin’ better than them, you know that? You think just cause you got another hole that you can take the easy way out? Everything's gonna be peaches and cream, huh? Nuh uh. Not on my watch, you little shit. You wanna act like you're such a fag? Well then you’re getting fucked like one of us too."
“Jesus fucking Christ, babycakes, if you don’t want him up your ass I’ll GLADLY take the heat for you.”
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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago
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A witch and her werewolf Pt1
Male!Werewolf x Fem!Witch Reader
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 25th
Oct 19
Oct 26
summary: You meet a lone wolf in the woods, and realize he’s more than you thought.
a/n: this is a reskin of a Kurapika x reader fic I wrote, but never got past the first chapter. If you want a continuation, please comment or send me a Kofi.
WK: 5k+
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It was finally spring, a time where flowers bloomed and the snow melted away to reveal all kinds of herbs and plants for the little witch (Name) to gather.
Today she was doing just that, gathering herbs to begin making more potions. Through the winter, her stock of salves and potions had grown smaller and smaller, until she only had a few left.
(Name) had customers that would be coming by any day now to buy her goods, so she was determined to go out and hunt for all the ingredients she would need.
She was a good witch, focusing on healing salves and helping the villagers nearby. It was partially out of the goodness of her heart, and partly because she wanted to keep a good relationship with the townspeople so they didn’t grab their pitchforks and torches to chase her out of town with.
So (Name) grabbed her hat, wearing a thick pair of boots to protect her feet from the thorny vegetation. She was always careful when visiting the forest. After all, there were rumors that many magical beasts made it their home.
Along the path, she spotted small clusters of mint, frowning. “Mint is so invasive, I thought I told the villagers not to plant it in the ground…”
(Name) did her best to dig up and pick what she could, then moved on along the path. Mushrooms, herbs, and pretty rocks all found a new home in her basket. After searching for a while, she wiped the sweat from her brow. ‘Hmm… I should still have some time to go by the lake before I go home… I wonder if anything is growing near the water's edge..?’
(Name) stepped on a branch as she neared the lake, ready to search for aquatic plant life and maybe even find a good spot to go fishing!
But before she could get too close, (Name) heard a loud howl that made her freeze in her tracks. When she turned, she spotted it.
There was a large, golden wolf near the water’s edge, its ears pinned back and snarling. From the water dripping from its furry chin, the witch assumed it had just been drinking from the lake before she interrupted it by making noise.
She was quick to hold up her hands in a sign of surrender, talking in an even voice. “Easy, boy, I’ll go,”
Backing up slowly, (Name) made sure not to meet the wolf’s eyes, though she did notice they were a sparkling shade of scarlet she had never seen before.
The beast huffed, watching her for a moment longer before turning back to drink. Once it did, she broke out in a sprint, her basket held firmly against her chest. (Name) knew the forest wasn’t exactly safe, but she had never encountered a wild animal besides some chipmunks and bunnies.
‘I’ve never seen a wolf with that coloration before…’ (Name) thought, putting away her foraged goods once she arrived home. ‘Maybe it’s an albino or something? But wouldn’t it’s fur be more white then?’
Despite being a little afraid, (Name) couldn’t get her mind off of the wolf she had seen before. It was easily the top predator in the forest, yet it only gave her a warning growl before minding its business again. Was that normal wolf behavior? She had no idea.
‘I’m thinking too much…’ (Name) thought, changing into her pajamas. ‘I need to sleep, or I’ll be late to the coven meeting tomorrow…’
Turning over, (Name) wondered what exactly she would even speak about during the meeting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident witch, often being spoken over or ignored due to her shy nature. No one would think she was the very first apprentice Ania Quell, the head of the very coven (Name) was a part of.
‘I may have been her first apprentice, but I’m definitely not her best. Miles and Gil have me beat for sure…’ she thought, rolling over onto her side to stare out of the window.
Through the gaps in the curtains, she could see the moon shining up above, big and full. It’s light bathed her in a soft glow, and made her feel both rejuvenated and relaxed.
‘It’ll be okay… after all, I have friends there. Everything should… be fine…’
(Name) drifted off to sleep, the last image on her mind before she was taken to slumberland being the golden wolf peering at her with those scarlet eyes.
—————
(Name) packed a small basket full of jams and jellies, humming a tune as she carefully stacked a small jar of syrup on the top. “I know Jill won’t be there today, but Ania loves my jams and jellies. Hopefully I’ll actually have a chance to speak with her…”
Ania, being the head of the coven, was always busy. She was usually stuck talking with several other witches about various topics, or leaving early to conduct business with other covens. Getting the opportunity to talk to her was rare enough, but being able to sit down and have a conversation was nearly impossible, especially these days.
There had recently been several cases of witches and their familiars disappearing, or even familiars turning on their masters and killing them, so Ania was especially busy dealing with the aftermath.
Each witch had a familiar bestowed upon them during a ceremony after becoming a full fledged witch. Some even had two or three, and witches with high status and great power possessed up to 10 familiars.
And there was (Name), with no familiar at all. At the ceremony, the wizard conducting it simply turned her away, saying she was not yet ready to become the master of familiar. Every other witch present had received their lifelong friend, while she went home empty handed.
It was lonely, all on her own. Watching the other witches go about their lives with the help and support of their familiars made her feel awfully… jealous. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed harboring, so (Name) tried her best to be positive!
Ania herself had said that it wasn’t unheard of for a witch to not receive their familiar during the bonding ceremony.
“Some witches just haven’t found their match yet, or perhaps they haven’t really found their true selves,” Ania had said after the ceremony, in hopes of comforting (Name).
(Name) huffed, loading her basket onto her broom. “So much for being a late bloomer. It’s been nearly five years since I became a full fledged witch, and still nothing! No familiar, not a cat or owl, not even a frog! Hell, I’d settle for a tarantula at this point!”
She flew over the forest, tilting her head when she spotted a spot of gold walking slowly near the lake. (Name) flew a bit lower, her eyes widening when she spotted the same wolf she’d seen the day before.
This time, it seemed to be walking with a bit of a limp, a small trail of blood behind it. Her heart ached to see an animal in such pain, so she landed a safe distance away from it.
“Hey there, pup.”
The wolf stiffened, quickly turning its head to growl lowly at her. (Name) held up her hands, her broom floating behind her in case she needed a quick escape.
“Woah, easy. You’re hurt, and I can help you if you’ll let me.”
She didn’t know why she was talking to it, but she kept it up. “There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart. Shh…”
The wolf’s ears flattened against its head, and it began to bare its teeth. (Name) yelped when it began to approach her, jumping on her broom just in time to escape its jaws. It snapped at her broom bristles, but she was thankfully in the air by then and bar away enough from its jaws to not get hurt.
But… the wolf didn’t seem to be trying too hard to chase her. (Name) had a feeling it wasn’t actually attacking her, more so just trying to scare her away.
She frowned as the wolf became a small speck, her heart hurting for the poor thing. (Name) hoped that the poachers that her fellow witches had chased out from the forest years ago weren’t back.
‘I’ll have to talk to Ania about it… if I can talk to her that is.’
—————
(Name) landed in a vast meadow, wild flowers of various kinds softly swaying in the spring breeze. She took a moment to relax, bending down to pick a daily and place it in her basket.
‘Oh, I always forget where the doorway is…’ she thought to herself as she held out the stick end of her broom to feel around. When it bumped off of something solid, she grinned.
“There it is!”
(Name) reached forward and patted the surface until her hand landed on a doorknob. She turned it, and walked forward.
The empty flower field was replaced with a dark forested area, with lampposts leading down a snowy, worn down path. She could see the moon shining down through the canopy, filtered by the thick leaves until only small rays of light were visible.
‘I see the meeting is being hosted in the northern lands this time…’ she thought, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The northern lands were often cold, even when spring came, snow still covered the land.
Each meeting was hosted in one of the four sectors of the world, North, South, East, and West. The north was her least favorite, due to the cold weather and people. The citizens of the north were often blunt and rude, having to time for warm pleasantries.
(Name) lived in the southern lands, where the weather was always warm and pleasant. Even the most severe winters in the south were not as cold as the northern spring.
She spotted the soft warm glow of a candle shining from a canon window. ‘There it is!’
(Name) opened the cabin door, revealing a bustling meeting hall. Witches all ages and genders walked around, speaking to one another and trading goods.
“(Name)!”
The woman yelped when she was tackled to the floor, knowing instantly who had done it.
“Miles, what did I tell you about jumping on her like some wild animal!?”
“Miles, Gil…” she smiled as she watched Gil drag his friend off of her, pinching his cheek.
“Hi, (Name)! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to see you!”
She laughed, ruffling their hair. “Yeah, nearly three months. You weren’t able to attend the last few meetings due to Ania’s training, right?”
The two shuddered. “Uh… we’d rather not talk about that.”
(Name) could remember her own training, which would have been way less intense than theirs due to her weaker body. Even so, she collapsed nearly every day from exhaustion, so she could only imagine the horrors they had endured.
“Ah… okay, how about you show me how your training has been coming along then?”
The three sat in an empty room as the two showed her new, complex spells they had learned. Gil was able to summon lightning and use it as a weapon, while Miles was able to harden his body. Both were spells even she couldn’t do.
“Oh wow, you’ve grown so much! Maybe that training was worth it then?”
Gil groaned. “Barely, I didn’t think we were going to survive another day of it.”
“Aww, it wasn’t that b- no, actually it was that bad. But I’m still grateful Ania taught us so well!” Miles replied, giving her a smile.
She gave them both a hug. “I’m proud of you both. You should really come visit me sometime. Spring is here, so you can go play in the forest. There a lake~”
This excited the two, who both enjoyed swimming. “We'll definitely be coming by this summer!”
Before they could speak anymore, they heard a bell chiming. “Oh, we’ll talk later. The meeting is about to start!”
(Name) took her seat near Ania. As her first apprentice, she had to be at Ania’s side for every meeting. That didn’t mean she got Ania’s attention, though. She couldn’t blame her mentor, for she was the leader of this coven.
“Hello, my friends. Our monthly meeting has begun, and I will announce any upcoming events before opening the floor for discussion.”
(Name) looked around the room, unsurprised when she saw multiple witches waiting impatiently for the floor to be open.
It was mostly the same elderly witches that always had some mundane problem… but what was surprising was Ember, one of the fledgling witches that hadn’t yet gotten her familiar, anxiously tapping her well manicured nails against the oak table.
“And with that, the floor is open to discussion.” Ania said after finishing her announcements. Ember was quick to speak up, interrupting an elder.
“Some creature has been lurking in the south, killing my father’s livestock and scaring what it doesn’t eat half to death! It’s some kind of magical beast, I already did the identifying spell and it’s either some type of fae or a…”
She trailed off, her face going pale. Ania raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “A what, Ember?”
“A… a werewolf.”
The sound of gasps and whispered conversation filled the meeting hall, only silenced when Ania held up her hand to motion for the noise to cease.
“And you’re sure that’s what the spell said?”
Ember nodded, standing up to offer her grimoire. Ania’s eyes scanned it, then she sighed heavily. “I see…”
(Name) frowned deeply, glancing from ember to Ania. She knew that Ember lived only half a day’s walk from her home, meaning if there was a werewolf causing trouble for her, it could potentially move onto (Name).
“As we all know, magical beasts are drawn to witches due to their magical power. This is good when it comes to making friends or getting a familiar, but leads to some… detrimental outcomes when the wrong creature gets attracted. And with the recent uptick in werewolf based attacks, I wouldn’t doubt this has troubled you, Ember.”
Ania stood, walking around the table. “But be that as it may, werewolves are not evil in nature. They are simply beings that are different from us, and can be reasoned with and befriended just like most magical beasts.”
One witch scoffed. “Miss Ania, with all due respect, all witches know werewolves are dangerous beasts that deserve to be put down to keep ourselves safe. I mean, haven’t the last three witch deaths been caused by werewolves?”
Ania scowled. “That’s the kind of attitude that causes entire species to go extinct. A few werewolves have done wrong, yes, but how many humans have killed each other or other creatures? Do we all deserve to die due to the actions of a few individuals?”
The witch who spoke up immediately shrunk into herself, grumbling under her breath. (Name) noticed that several other witches also looked displeased with Ania’s words, but said nothing.
“Ember, I’ll send you home with a spell that will ward off any fae or werewolves. It’s easy, and very effective.”
“Thank you, Ania!”
The woman turned to the rest of the coven. “Now, what else needs to be discussed?”
———————-
“I respect Miss Ania’s opinion, but werewolves are dangerous beasts!”
“I know, right? My friend’s cousin’s aunt’s stepbrother was killed by a werewolf!”
“And I heard that once a werewolf has seen you, it’ll tell its whole pack to come and eat you!”
“Oh that’s not the half of it! I heard-“
(Name) rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping witches, ushering Gil and Miles away. “Don’t listen to them, I’m sure not a single one of them have ever even seen a werewolf in person.”
“Have you, (Name)?”
(Name) paused when Miles asked her that innocent question, sighing softly. “Yes, once before. It was only for a moment while Ania went to meet with one for a trade. It gave her some of its fur for a potion in exchange for a protection spell.”
“So… it didn’t attack you or Ania?”
“Nope, so don’t listen to those witches. Not one single creature is the exact same as its kin. Some are more peaceful, some are violent, just like with humans. Once people come to accept that, we could possibly form an alliance with the werewolves.”
Gil huffed, digging in her satchel. Once he found what he was looking for, a bag of handmade candy, he swiped it. “Hey, you remembered to bring it!”
“Of course I did, silly. It’s your favorite.”
Gil popped one of the candies into his mouth as they walked, humming in delight. Miles grabbed one too. “Did you get to talk to Ania, (Name)?”
The woman sighed, handing out her jam and syrup to a few witches she traded with. “Not yet, but I hope I’ll be able to catch her before she leaves. You know Ania, she’s always busy.”
“You’re not wrong, but today I have a little bit of time to spare.”
The three jumped when they heard Ania’s voice from behind them. “Ania!”
(Name) jumped into her arms, easily being held up by the seemingly young looking girl. Everyone in the coven knew that Ania was much older than she seemed, but little knew of her immense physical strength.
“Oh, (Name) my dear, you’ve gotten a bit bigger haven't you? It feels like just yesterday I was carrying you home from the orphanage and giving you your first wand.”
“A-Ania! That’s embarrassing…”
The woman laughed, setting (Name) down. “Alright, alright… what is it you wanted to talk about, dear?”
(Name) gave Ania a shy smile, handing her the jams and jellies she brought for her. “I wanted to give you these and ask how the situation with the rogue familiars has been going.”
Ania stiffened, glancing at the two boys before digging. “Come, (Name). Let’s discuss things in private.”
With a wave of her wand, (Name) and Ania were transported to a vacant room. Ania made sure the door was closed before beginning to speak in a hushed voice.
“I didn’t want to scare anyone, so I’ve been keeping some of the information private. But…” she sighed, looking out the window, into the snow. “Every single familiar that attacked their witch was a werewolf.”
(Name)’s blood ran cold at the revelation, her eyes widening as Ania turned to meet her gaze. “Every single one? That’s…”
“Unusual, I know. Werewolves in and of themselves are rare to have as a familiar because they’re reluctant to be bound to a witch… so the fact that each familiar was a werewolf is suspicious.”
“What could be the motive? I find it hard to believe a familiar would just kill its master like that! In all of witch history, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Ania opened her own grimoire. “I agree with you, it is hard to believe. But the detection spell pointed to each familiar being a werewolf. We have yet to find and question any of the suspects due to them fleeing the scene once the bond to their master was broken…”
(Name) frowned deeply. “And with what Ember said today, if this news got out, the entire coven will be in hysterics. There will be werewolf hunts and-“
“That’s why they can’t find out. You are the only person outside of my trusted inner circle that knows of this, (Name).”
She looked at Ania, confused. “But why would you tell me, Ania? I’m not as strong or intelligent as others, so why would you give me this information and not someone more qualified?”
Ania smiled at that, chuckling. “That, I cannot say my dear. You are destined for great things, and I just want you to be informed so when it’s time for you to make decisions… you’ll have all the information you need to make the right choice.”
“That’s really cryptic, Ania.”
The older woman only smiled, beckoning her to follow. “Come, I must take my leave. Let’s walk and talk.”
The two continued to chat as they walked towards the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll send you home with a spell, dear. It is quite late in the southerners sector by now, hmm?”
(Name) nodded, grabbing hold of her broom.
“Oh, and (Name)?”
She looked up as Ania raised her wand. “Yes?”
“Kindness and patience is always key.”
With that, she was sent home. She appeared in her cottage, the fire lighting the second she stepped close.
“I wonder what she meant by that…”
———————
(Name) brushed off her dress, staring out into the forest. She really had to go back into the forest to gather supplies… but she was worried she would encounter that wolf again.
With a sigh, she pocketed her wand and carried her broom. They were just there in case she sensed any danger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t great with defensive or attack spells, it was why she took to healing magic and concoctions instead.
But she knew a few illusion spells that may buy her some time to escape… hopefully those would work.
(Name) walked along the work down path, much more alert than usual. She listened for the sounds of the forest, making sure to listen for any branches snapping or leaves rustling.
She was able to make it back to the lake with no problems, sighing in relief. There, she unloaded her jars from her basket and began placing shells, underwater plantlife, and some of the nutrient rich soil to add to her garden.
Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched from a distance, a pair of scarlet eyes following her as she walked along the lake’s edge.
Once she finished, (Name) was surprised to see the wolf with the golden coat standing only a few meters away from her. Although it growled when she moved, it showed no other signs of aggression, only watching her… as if it was curious.
“Hello, again…” (Name) said softly, staying still as it approached. She kept her hand in her pocket on her wand, but began to relax. It only circled her, chuffing when it moved behind her.
She tensed, but relaxed again when it appeared on her left side. It was inspecting her, sniffing her… was that normal behavior for a wild animal?
Its scarlet eyes focused on her, and she noticed it still had that slight limp when it walked. “Are you… injured?”
As if it could understand her, the creature tensed, the fur on its back rising. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”
Taking a chance, she slowly reached out her hand to place it on its head. She had a connection with animals, having rehabilitated many woodland creatures. A wolf couldn’t be that different, right?
Well, she was wrong. The beast growled before snapping its jaws at her hand, barely missing her fingers. It then ran away, slower than it usually would be due to its injured paw.
Her heart hurt from the sight. Had it been trying to ask her for help? It was possible the poor thing was someone’s pet that had been let go after learning how hard it was to take care of a wolf. Maybe that’s why it was both comfortable around humans and also weary of them?
(Name) made a decision that day. She would gain that wolf’s trust, and maybe… even make it her familiar.
———————
As the days turned into weeks, (Name) visited the forest every day she could. She saw the wolf often, sometimes from the corner of her eye, and sometimes it came in direct contact with her.
She always sat patiently, letting it come to her. (Name) had learned her lesson, and eventually she was able to sit in silence with the wolf by her side as she did mundane tasks like cleaning out her jars or sewing by the lake.
It had yet to let her touch it, but she didn’t mind. She would get it to trust her… it needed medical attention, more than she thought. It was scrawny, hungry looking, as if it was having trouble hunting by itself.
She started bringing out raw meat from the market and leaving it by the lake for it, and when its condition started to improve slowly, she knew that it was eating.
Once she started feeding it, the wolf began trusting her a great deal more. It now followed her down the pathway when she walked home, a slight sway in its tail.
She was making great progress, and the two seemed to have a mutual trust that neither would hurt the other. Every time she came to the lake, it was waiting there for her. It would eat, then sit nearby as she did what she needed to do, then walked her home. It had become her routine.
That’s why it surprised her when it wasn’t there when she came.
“Pup?”
(Name) called for it, patting her thigh and whistling. Usually it would have come to greet her by now…
The silence in the forest was almost eerie, as if everything was holding its breath. There was no birdsong, no squirrels skittering from tree to tree… just silence.
“Something is wrong…”
It was growing dark, and she was hurrying back as quickly as she could. (Name) had heard from some other forest dwelling witches that when the sounds of the forest stopped, that meant there was a large predator around, something that made the squirrels and birds hide in fear.
Had the wolf gone into hiding too?
She didn’t have to wonder for long. As she neared her cottage, her eyes widened in horror. There were bloodied paw prints leading down the stone path to her front door, and laying on her doorstep was the golden wolf.
It panted loudly, its fur matted with blood. (Name) immediately kneeled at its side, trying to hold back tears. The injured paw was stuck in a bear trap, and it had gashed on its belly and back… as if it had been attacked with a knife…
When it growled at her touch, she simply shushed it. “Shh, shh, I’m here. You came to my home for a reason, right? I can help you…”
Although it still snarled and yelped as she hoisted it into her home with great effort, it made no attempts to sink its teeth into her flesh.
As soon as it was inside, she summoned as many bandages as she could, along with a metal bar to help her pry the bear trap off.
“This is going to hurt, pup. Don’t bite me…”
The wolf laid its head down, as if telling her it trusted her to help. It growled and snarled in pain as she pried open the bear trap. Once its paw was free, she examined the damage.
His paw was barely hanging on… thankfully she focused on healing magic. She was able to reattach his paw and clean the wound, bandaging it before moving onto the gashes on his body.
(Name) collapsed in exhaustion after hours of working on the wolf. Her efforts had paid off, as it was now sleeping peacefully by the fire.
‘At least one of us is able to sleep…’ she thought, rising from the couch to wash the blood from her hands. She exhausted all of her magic saving the wolf’s life, which worried her slightly. That meant if it were to attack for any reason, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
After much thought, she realized that even if it wanted to hurt her, it would be unable. The thing couldn’t stand, much less leap out and attack her, so she decided to sleep next to it… just to watch over it, of course… the fact that it was so soft and warm had nothing to do with it…
———————-
(Name) woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even up yet. She could have only been asleep for a few hours, as the fire was still going…
She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes… but paused when she took a second look at the fire.
She hasn’t remembered putting that second log in the fireplace… before she slept, she had even cursed herself for not doing so.
(Name) felt a chill run up her spine and immediately turned to see if the wolf was okay… but instead of seeing its beautiful golden fur and large form, she was met with something much smaller hidden under the blanket…
Smaller, but still bigger than her, whatever it was wriggled the second she spoke. “U-um…”
She expected the wolf to perhaps be some kind of magical beast that turned into something smaller when injured to conserve power… and she wasn’t that far off.
When she pulled back the blanket, instead of a furred creature, she came face to face with a handsome… man?
“… hello…”
For finding a man in the place of the injured wolf she saved, (Name) took the situation well. And by well, she screamed and scooted away, wielding her wand.
“W-who are you and what did you do to that wolf!? Are you some kind of poacher? A pervert? A poaching pervert!?”
The person squinted at her, sighing. “No… I’m neither of those… I-“
He winced in pain, whimpering as the blanket fell around him. (Name)’s eyes went wide as she saw the bandages decorating his form, the same ones she had applied to the wolf last night…
The things that finally clued her in were the wolf ears perched atop of his blonde head, and tail limp on his back.
“Y-you’re…”
“A werewolf…” he muttered, his ears flattening against his head. “You… helped me, and… I understand if you no longer want to help now that you know what I am. I simply ask that… you let me recover until I am able to move…”
She swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you are. You’re hurt, and I won’t let you suffer.”
The man looked on in mild shock as she helped him onto the couch. “This should be more comfortable… I’ll need to redo your bandages soon…”
The man watched her work silently. She redressed his wounds with a skill that was uncommon for women in their era. Once she was done, it was only then that her eyes trailed down his torso to look for anything else that she may have missed when his thick fur was in the way…
“Oh.”
Her face warmed, her eyes going wide.
He was completely and utterly nude, barely covering his groin with the blanket. His wolf ear twitched as she turned away, flustered.
‘I forgot, werewolves lose their clothing when they turn…’
For now, she simply covered him with a blanket, too tired to do anything else. With that, she left him to sleep on the couch and headed to bed.
‘What am I going to do? There’s a werewolf on my couch, right after Ember mentioned one eating her livestock. Is it the same one..? Could it… be connected to the familiars going rogue?’
She sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. ‘Well, whatever the case is, it’s my responsibility now. I decided to save its life, and I don’t regret it. Once it’s back to full health, I’ll think of what to do…’
With that decided, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long day.
———————
In the living room, the werewolf stared up at the ceiling, his head filled with the images of the events he had been through.
‘I thought they lost my trail… those damn poachers will do anything to complete their collection…’
His heart ached to think of his pack, their coats skinned from their bodies after they were forced to transform and fight each other for their captors’ amusement. It made his blood boil to think of how scared the pups must have been, how the elders must have died comforting them with their final breaths, just for all of their words to mean nothing in the end.
He hated humans and their endless lust for money and power. For years he had avoided human contact, staying in his wolf form and attacked anyone that came near in fear of being hurt again…
That was until he met her.
Even before they officially met, he had been stalking her through the woods for months. At first, he had planned on killing her and taking over her cabin for himself. In his mind, it was only fair. Humans killed and stole from nature every single day, honestly he thought he was doing the world a favor taking one of them out.
But (Name) wasn’t like other humans. Every day, he watched her take only what she needed, and left behind gifts for the fairies and animals. She tended to the wounded creatures and made sure she never overstayed her welcome.
It would be dishonest to say he liked her, but she was the closest thing to tolerable a human could get in his eyes. So when he met her, he found himself unable to hurt her.
Though at first he kept his distance and attempted to bite her if she strayed too close, he never intended to actually hurt her. If he wanted to, he could have easily tore into her throat and feasted on her flesh… but he didn’t.
This human, this girl had become something akin to a friend to him. Despite his hatred for her kind, he couldn’t help following after her and staying by her side. It felt soothing, safe… almost familiar in a way. It reminded him of when he was just a pup and would follow behind his mother while she hunted or gathered ingredients for dinner.
So when he was attacked by the very poachers that killed his family, he escaped with only one thing in mind.
‘I have to find her!’
He followed her scent, barely dragging his wounded hide to her home and collapsing on the front step. He never would have thought that he would trust a human to help him, not after what he had been put through.
Even now, as he laid there powerless and unable to move, his mind was still conflicted. Was this really okay? Could he truly rely on this human to tend to him when he was utterly defenseless?
‘It doesn’t really look like I have much of a choice…’
Winning his trust would not be easy, but if she could… (Name) would gain a loyal companion.
Only time could tell what would become of these two…
—————————
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