#tears off my shirt and turns into a werewolf | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellecdc · 8 months ago

Note

DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩

okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.

this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols

p1 // p2

CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions.

He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy.

Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior.

Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.

His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door.

“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.

The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.

“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.

Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.

“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on.

“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”

“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.

“Barty...”

“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.

“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood.

“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.

“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.

You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”

Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”

More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.

You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.

“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”

“I...I just-”

And you passed out.

“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.

“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.

He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.

He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless.

His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...

Oh gods, your parents.

That’s why you were here.

You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.

Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.

“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate.

You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back.

“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”

You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain.

“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”

“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”

“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”

“Where were you trying to go?”

“The Potter’s.”

“And why can’t you go there now?”

You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.

“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.

He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.

He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all.

“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.

“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”

He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves.

“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.

“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.

Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.

Except something was very, very wrong.

The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.

“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.

He wished you could have kicked at him.

“Yes, Barty.” You cried.

“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.

“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand.

“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help.

Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.

Fortunately, there were ways around that.

Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.

“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”

Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be.

“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”

Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.

“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”

Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”

“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.

Help is coming, Treasure.

“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”

Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.

He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.

“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”

Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly.

“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius.

“Where is Regulus right now?”

Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless.

“Upstairs with Remus.”

Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”

Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”

“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”

“For what?”

Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.

“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.

Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding.

“Where is-”

“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”

“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room.

“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.

“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.

Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.

“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.

Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door.

“She...she was bitten.”

Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.

He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.

“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.

“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding.

“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.

You looked like you were dying.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.

“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”

“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.

“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.

“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.

Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue.

“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.

“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest.

“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.

“Where’s the silver from?”

“Slughorn’s supply closet.”

Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”

“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned.

Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.

Pure...

Toujours pur.

“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.

“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”

Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.

“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”

Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.”

Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.

“I don’t understand.”

“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.

“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”

“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it.

“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother.

Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.

Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful.

“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.

“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.

“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.”

“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.

“Yet you still worry?”

“Yet I still worry.”

Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.

“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.

Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.

You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.

He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.

“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.

Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.

“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door.

“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.

“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.

“Been worse.” Remus answered.

“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.

“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.

“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.

“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”

Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.

“No, well, yes...she-”

“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.

“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”

Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.

“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains.

“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly.

“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”

“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”

“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”

Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.

“She was bitten, Rem.”

All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.

“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.

“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”

“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser.

“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.

“Why not?”

“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation.

“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.

“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily.

Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.

“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.

Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.

“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.

Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.

“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.

“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.

The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses.

“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.

Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”

“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”

“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.

“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.

Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene.

“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.

“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”

You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.

“Remus will hate me.”

Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.

“Why would he hate you?”

“He hates werewolves.”

Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back.

“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.

“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.

“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t really there.

“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front.

You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.

“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead.

“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany.

“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly.

“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”

“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus.

“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold.

“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembered his older brother being.

What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?

How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?

“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.

“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.

“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.

“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.

“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.

“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.

“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.

Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment.

Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.

“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.

“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.

“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.

“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”

It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.

Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.

“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted.

“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

“Remus.” Sirius warned.

“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained.

“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.

“I know, dove.”

“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot.

“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly.

“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”

Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled.

“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.

Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement.

“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.

“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.

You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath.

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sodamnradd · 3 months ago

Text

(slightly nsfw)

Yards away from the ramshackle cottage filled with people who don’t like him, Draco lets his himself cry. Snape dumped him here an hour ago and left after a private meeting with The Order.

Footsteps approach. Draco wipes his tears.

It’s Granger, carrying a bowl of lumpy pasta.

“I was saving the box for a rainy day but figured you could use it more than me.”

He stares at the offering, and scrunches his nose. “That’s revolting.”

She says, “I’m sorry about your father.”

Draco’s eyes sting. Then, since she still hasn’t left, he tries the lumpy pasta and finds it offensively delicious.

Two weeks later he’s playing Wizard’s Chess with Weasley when Granger appears, a bag strapped across her shoulder.

Weasley hugs her so fiercely, her feet lift off the floor.

“There are only two rooms,” says Weasley, welcoming her inside. “But you can share mine.”

She shakes her head. “The sofa’s fine.”

Weasley hurls a howling werewolf against a tree.

Draco stuns two more, searching the field frantically for Granger.

A scream pierces the air.

He doesn’t think before he launches himself between her and the feral wolf. Something sharp slashes his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Draco takes Granger’s hand and touches the port-key in his pocket.

They land in a heap, gasping atop each other.

She’s bleeding profusely. Her forehead, her cheek, her chin.

It’s not until he’s cleaned her up, using magic to sew the scar on her temple back together, that she discovers his shirt is drenched in blood.

She makes a fuss when he removes his shirt. “This is worse than my scar. You should’ve said something!”

“We’re not keeping tabs, Granger.” Truthfully, he’d forgotten all about it when he’d seen her hurt.

Her hands are gentle as she cleans his wound.

They receive word from The Order that the battle was successful, but Ron has been reassigned to a different safe house.

“I won’t have to sleep on the sofa anymore.” She jokes, her breath warm on his spine.

It’s the oddest thing, but his cock stirs. Just the idea of Granger in a bed makes him feel too tight in his skin.

They play house for a few days.

Draco enters the kitchen one morning and falters when he sees her in his jumper.

“It was on the chair,” she says apologetically. “I was cold.”

“It’s fine.”

Seeing Granger in his clothes has a deeper effect than he thought. He’s hard again. Admittedly, he’s hard a lot these days.

They’re playing chess when Granger poses casually, “Who’s the last person you kissed?”

Draco says, “Pansy.” Without having to think about it. He meets her eye. “You?”

“Ron,” she says.

He tries not to wince, wondering if it was while they all lived together.

“Did you sleep with Pansy?”

His cock stirs again. He exhales. “Yeah,” he says, unable to ask the same question. He doesn’t want to think of Granger naked with another bloke.

“Do you miss it?” she asks. “Sex?”

He gives her a telling look.

She makes the next move on the chessboard, cheeks aflame.

He shoves his chair back and, when she looks up, he pats his lap. “Come here.”

He thinks she’ll say no. That she’s merely curious and that her questions didn’t mean anything. But she doesn’t do any of that.

He watches, fascinated, as she rises from her seat. And when she straddles him, he’s pretty sure his heart explodes.

Sex with Granger makes war tolerable. He’s addicted after one taste. More. It’s all he ever wants. More and more and more.

On the sofa, on the counter, in his bed, in the shower, against his bedroom door.

Her body is lush and responsive. Her skin is gorgeous covered in his love bites. When she moans his name, Draco aches.

She’s doing exactly that, riding him furiously on the sofa with her hair tangled between his fingers, when the door swings open and Snape enters.

Granger gasps, ducking away.

Draco curses, plucking his shorts from the ground.

Snape turns around, giving them a few seconds to become decent. He’s ramrod straight and possibly not breathing.

“I’m so sorry professor,” Granger apologizes profusely. Her voice a little raspy. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“I would hope not,” snarls Snape, peeking cautiously over his shoulder. “I dare say, when we thought you two were occupied, this isn’t what we had in mind.”

Draco bites his lip so not to laugh. He’s not sure who’s more humiliated. Granger or Snape.

“Where’s the research?”

“One moment.” Granger dashes upstairs wearing Draco’s jumper inside out and backwards.

Snape says, “What are you smirking about?”

Draco shrugs, untroubled. “Nothing.”

“Attachment only causes distraction, Malfoy.”

“Or something to fight for,” he rebuts.

“And if she dies?” He sneers. “If you fall in love with that girl and something happens to her, you won’t survive. I know you.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” he says firmly.

Snape narrows his eyes, realizing it’s too late for words of caution. “You fool.”

Draco says, “Don’t tell the others about this.” Because he knows they’ll separate them if they find out. “Please.”

Granger returns wearing trousers. She passes a ribboned scroll to Snape.

Snape stares in disdain, taking it after a beat too long. He glowers at Draco, his mouth forming a straight line. He says, “If you wish to survive, you’ll stop this.” Draco is about to protest, but Snape holds up his hand. “But as far as I’m concerned, I was never here. Good riddance.”

He slams the door on his way out.

Draco remembers the devastation of losing his father. Snape’s right. They probably shouldn’t.

And yet.

When Granger locks her arms around his neck and bursts into a fit of giggles, he melts.

To hell with it all. He’ll fight for them until the bloody end.

(976 words. Prompt: secret safe house relationship discovered by Snape from X).

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dramione drabble #dhr #sodamnraddrabbles #sodamnrad

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yandere-sins · 16 days ago

Text

Yan-Poll #28

[Continuation of Poll #27]

"Some food sounds nice," you mumbled hesitantly, forcing a smile on your lips and looking towards the werewolf while placing your hand on your stomach. A glint of victory sparked in his eyes as he raised his snout highly, proud to be the chosen option.

"As I said," he announced with a huff, and you got up from your seat to follow him out of the door. This was the perfect opportunity! You'd scout the area, try to sneak away when he was busy hunting, and be rid of this fearsome duo! Even if a night in the woods had the potential to be scary, you doubted the werewolf would let harm befall you if anything else tried to attack you. It was definitely the right choice!

A finger hooked underneath your shirt collar, tugging you back into a cold, firm chest while one arm wrapped around you from behind, leisurely holding you in place. "Ah, ah," the vampire chimed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"H-Hunting?" you questioned, looking up at the vampire, who quirked an eyebrow.

"You? Our sweet, incapable human?"

"Let them," the werewolf barked, stomping back through the door. His claws splintered the wood as they gripped the frame, the cracking a fierce reminder of his strength.

"Are you that dense? As if you could take care of a human while you're focusing on hunting. They'll slip from you, and you'll spend the rest of the night searching for them. How dumb do you take them that they wouldn't try to sneak away? No, you're not taking them on your mindless hunt; go fetch them some food alone."

You shivered slightly as the usual light and chatty tone of the vampire's voice turned into a snarl, clearly not amused about the idea of letting you out of their sight. On the other hand, you looked up at the werewolf, giving him your best impression of "puppy eyes", knowing that this was your best chance of escape. It had to work!

When he looked at you, his eyes softened, bared teeth disappearing beneath fur. But just as quickly, he looked back at his natural enemy, a growl vibrating in his throat as he spoke. "So you want me to leave them here? With you? So you can drink them dry before I even have the chance to feed them?"

"I won't," the vampire replied, a surprising firmness in his answer. "I'd rather see where this-" they waved their hand back and forth between the three of you "-is going to lead. It's been more fun than most of my meals in the last century, and I have the time to savor it."

"How am I going to believe you?" the werewolf bit back, and the vampire let out a long sigh while you imagined them rolling their eyes at this.

"You'll just have to. You do want to provide for your little mate, right? Look, they're famished."

The vampire hooked one of his cold fingers beneath your chin, lifting it to show you off. There were no mirrors to check your appearance, but famished wasn't how you would have described yourself. Still—and it made your mouth open in protest—the werewolf growled before giving a short nod with his snout and relented reluctantly, "I'll be back. And if they are missing just one drop of blood, I'll tear you limb from limb, you bat."

Then he was gone, his footsteps the only thing echoing through the mansion for a short while before you heard a door bang closed. How could he have possibly believed the vampire's sweet deception? Why in the world would he leave you alone with the possibly more dangerous monster of the two?!

"What an ill-tempered fellow," the vampire sighed, unwrapping their arm from you and stepping away. You stood there for a few seconds more, seeing your hope slowly fade away into the darkness of the hallway, when the golden chalice from before suddenly came back into view. You jerked away in surprise, but the vampire held it patiently in front of you until you had regained your composure, taking it from them. The pitcher followed in just as quick of a movement, and the dark red juice you had been given before flowed from its neck into your chalice.

"I know you were thirsty. Drink up," they encouraged you softly, stepping away while looking truly unbothered by your presence. It was as if it was no longer relevant that you were below them on the food chain.

"Are you... Are you not going to kill me?"

Turning around, you watched as the vampire placed the needle of an old gramophone standing in the corner of the room onto a record, soft music filling the room.

"What?" they squawked, uncharacteristically human, as if appalled by the thought. "Didn't I just say I wouldn't? You should listen when you are in a room full of monsters."

Instead of coming right back up to you, they sat on the armchair next to the couch, breathing out heavily as if a weight had been lifted before their eyes fell back from the ceiling to you. "Come," they beckoned, patting the soft cushion next to them. "No need to be so alert."

Reluctantly, you swayed on your spot, feeling the red eyes drilling into you as you had to convince your body to move. When you finally did, you left some space between the vampire's reach and your seat, just to be sure, before nipping at your juice again, your body relieved by the drink.

"I was human once," the vampire mused, and you jumped, almost feeling bad for your reaction.

"It's not a pleasure to drink blood, and most of the time, it tastes as awful as what it sounds like." They sighed once more, and you got the feeling they were quite dramatic.

"But having company, bickering, learning new things—that is fun! That is what's interesting! So," they sat up straight again, crossing their legs before giving you a toothy grin, "Tell me about yourself!"

You gulped down the tart sweetness on your tongue, unprepared for the overwhelming interest you suddenly received. Quickly, you averted your eyes, fearing the vampire's hypnosis and all the uncomfortable things they could order you to speak about to get a good laugh. But after a few moments, you caught yourself, rattling down basic facts about your life, going from your family to your hobbies, and discovering some shared interests between you two as the vampire chimed in with their own.

"So... do you have any other hobbies?" you asked, wringing your hands as you tried to keep the conversation going and push it away from you. Even after talking for a while, you were still running on survival instinct, knowing that the longer you kept the vampire occupied, the more time the werewolf had to return. If running wasn't an option, keeping the two of them occupied with fighting each other was your next best bet.

"Hm," the vampire hummed. "I love dancing. It has become awfully lonely in recent times, but we used to hold balls and celebrations in this mansion and dance all night. Those memories keep me alive in the dark times; memories I wish to always relive and cherish for as long as I can remember them."

Their words reminded you of a movie you had seen recently: nobles waltzing to music through a grand hall. It brought a sad smile to your lips as you felt a hint of sympathy for the vampire who must have witnessed the rise and fall of such traditions and, even more, the people who made them special.

"Well," they tore you out of your thoughts. Their hand stretched out towards you, long fingers with pointed nails, well-cared for yet inhumanly cold. "Would you do me the honors?"

Refusal made your lips quiver, but their gaze was almost bashful as they looked up at you, expecting the rejection yet hopeful you'd agree. You glanced back at the door, not knowing when the werewolf would be back. Dancing would bring you in a very close, very dangerous reach of the vampire's fangs, but it would also keep them occupied. You had to stall more time and force them not to kill you, but you didn't want to be served on a silver platter either.

"Don't I stink too much?" you laughed nervously, pointing out their previous comment about you needing a bath.

"Oh, I don't mind your smell as much as that beast's. In fact, you have a pleasant scent lingering on you now that he's not marking you up and down."

They seemed sincere enough, hadn't made a move except for petting the space that kept you two apart, seemingly disappointed. The conversation had been pleasant, going on for a very long time. Even for the hobbies they didn't share with you, they questioned and listened intently, glancing at your lips ever so often as if they wished for more and more information. Quality time seemed to be their thing, so if they were honest, agreeing to dance would probably put you in good standing with them, while refusing might anger them.

But that was if they were truthful about not harming you, given the chance.

#yan-poll #yandere talk #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere tw #yandere fanfiction #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabbles #yandere oneshot #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere imagines

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writememysticfalls · 27 days ago

Text

Monster | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: When your boyfriend Elijah finds you in bed with his brother Klaus, he turns into a monster.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Hot, angsty, No humanity!Elijah

Word Count: <1k

You didn't mean to sleep with Klaus. Again.

You’d think being pregnant with his monster spawn would have taught you a lesson. Also, you were dating his brother, Elijah.

But last night, you were crying for no reason, and Klaus kissed your tears away, doing that dangerous thing where he pretended to care about you. And then, it happened.

In the morning, your naked bodies were still tangled on top of the sheets, when Elijah walked in.

“Now,” he was saying, “I think I have developed the perfect cracker recipe for your sickness-”

He stopped speaking. His eyes dropped to the floor. “My apologies,” he said. “I appear to have interrupted something.”

Elijah turned and left the room. You threw on your T-shirt and jeans, ignoring Klaus, and followed Elijah into the hallway.

“Wait. I can explain,” you called.

Elijah was hurrying down the stairs. He calmly said, “You need not explain yourself,” but the wood of the banister was pulverising under his hands. Small chunks of mahogany rained down.

You groaned, moving her pregnant body down the stairs. “Wait!” you said. “Don't make me run.”

He froze at the bottom of the stairs. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders was the only sign of his distress.

You went round to face him, and pressed your hands to the sides of his stony face. “Elijah. It was one stupid night. It meant nothing. I swear.”

His whole body began to shake. “Please do not touch me,” he said.

“Look at me,” you said, gazing deep into his shining brown eyes. “You know I love you.”

“Klaus has murdered every woman I have ever dared to love. This hurts more than that,” Elijah said. “Because I expect betrayal from Niklaus, but I was foolish enough to trust you.”

Elijah moved so fast it was a blur, and pinned your neck against the wall. He was gritting his teeth, his face twisted in anger. Your mouth yawned for air. You saw white spots explode in the air.

Just as quickly, Elijah let go, staring at his own hands with wide eyes.

“Did I just…” he said, as if in a dream.

“I don't care, Elijah-” you tried to say, but Elijah was miles away.

“I swore to protect you, but I lost control, and I broke my word,” he said.

He staggered back, hitting the wall behind him. His eyes were filling with tears. “I broke my word.”

Klaus was standing above them on the stairs. “Dry those tears, brother,” he said. “That halo was bound to fade sooner or later.”

And then, Elijah did the strangest thing. He closed his eyes, like he was slipping into a warm bath. When he opened them, they were bright.

“Elijah?” you said. “Are you okay?”

Elijah’s mouth opened in a bemused smile. He brushed down his jacket, which was covered with sawdust. “Oh my,” he said to himself. “That was Ralph Lauren, too.”

“You're scaring me,” you said quietly. “Don't you have anything to say about - what happened?”

Elijah grinned up at Klaus. “Evidently, you two had sexual intercourse last night. It is hardly surprising. That is how we got in this situation in the first place.”

“But… I cheated on you,” you said.

“I understand,” Elijah said, flipping out a small mirror and fixing his hair. “You're a hormonal werewolf, and Niklaus is, well,” with a flourish of one hand, “Niklaus.”

you grabbed him by the shoulders. “What is this? Some kind of breakdown?”

Klaus laughed, walking down the stairs. “And we thought it couldn't be done. Elijah has turned off his humanity. He has shut off every ounce of pain and anger. Y/n, you are the first person in a thousand years to hurt him enough to enable this!”

Klaus clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Big brother, how do you feel about the fact that everyone in the Quarter is trying to kill Y/n and our unborn child?”

Elijah raised his eyebrows in comic surprise. “That sounds like - how do the kids say it - “steaming hot tea”?”

---

A few days later, you and Klaus were standing in the doorway to the living room, watching.

Elijah was naked, except for a bath towel tied casually over his hips. He was reading ‘50 Shades of Gray’. Two women were sprawled over the floor, their necks bleeding.

You found it hard to move your eyes from the sculpted planes of his chest, and the dark hair peeking out from under his arms. However, as thrilling as it was to see Elijah naked, this was a very bad sign.

“Hey, Elijah,” you said slowly. “Whatcha up to there?”

“This stuff is marvellous,” he said, not looking up. “Why did I not read it before? I seem to be swimming in an ocean of free time.”

“And who are they?” you said, looking down.

Elijah looked up. “Meet Martha and Angelique. I was delighted to find that the old New Orleans brothels are still operating.”

“Elijah!” you said in shock.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Elijah said. “You are welcome to join us in our lovemaking. You see, Martha does this thing with her tongue-”

“Give us the details later, old boy,” Klaus said, sitting next to Elijah with a look of utter glee. “Now, about my plan to murder all those blasted Crescent werewolves in the Quarter…”

“No!” you said.

Elijah drummed his fingers on the table. “Well… they tend to hide in underground caves, but perhaps if you blocked up a tunnel, you could starve them out.”

“They’re my family,” you said. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Well,” Elijah said, “Niklaus is my family. He’s murdered those I love, burnt every bridge I've ever built, and quite literally stabbed me in the back. Family is overrated.”

--- THREE DAYS LATER ---

As you walked into the Cauldron, the witch hotspot of the Quarter, you were resolved in her purpose. There were only three emotions with the power to turn a vampire’s humanity back on: hatred, fear and love. If her plan worked, Elijah would feel all three. And if it failed… well, you weren't going to think about that.

“I'm the one you all want to kill, right?” you shouted to the witches. “Davina is gone. Elijah doesn't care. No one is protecting me.” You fell to your knees on the pavement, raising your head to the sun and closing your eyes. “Come and get me.”

Elijah was watching with curiosity, leaning on a wall on the side of the street.

Three witches ran towards you from the shadows.

You screamed, grabbing the sides of her head. The pain was unimaginable. Your skull felt like it was being crushed in a juice blender.

Elijah only smiled, raising one eyebrow in scientific curiosity. “What power these witches possess.”

In that moment, your bravery left you. You forgot all about your plan. You would have killed yourself, your baby, and every wolf in the Quarter to stop the pain. But it was too late.

All of a sudden, something flitted over the pavement, and all three witches dropped to the floor. It was Klaus. Panting, his eyes glowing yellow, he crouched in front of you. He let out a snarl.

You gasped gratefully for breath.

“Big brother,” Klaus said, “as much as I love playing the hero, I would appreciate your help right now.”

Already, more witches were gathering. Their eyes were milky white, their chants growing faster.

Elijah’s cheerful voice turned bitter. “Who am I to get in between you and Y/n? You know each other so well...”

Hatred, you thought. It was working; Elijah was feeling something.

You crumpled as a new pain stabbed you in the stomach. The baby.

Klaus leapt towards the witches, but they threw him onto the cobblestones.

Panting on the floor, Klaus shouted, “No, brother, I don't know Y/n. However, I do know her body. I plunged my fingers into the deepest parts of her. I made her howl.”

Elijah’s eyes turned blood red, and veins splintered over his face.

Klaus kept taunting Elijah, with gritted teeth because of the pain. “It was the same with your other women. Women are happy to let you buy them a ring, big brother. but they all come crawling to my bed moaning Niklaus! Give it to me harder!”

As he said those words, Elijah moved at inhuman speed and grabbed Klaus by the throat. That must have put Klaus out of the direct eyesight of the witches, because Klaus suddenly got to his feet and killed three witches in turn.

Now, the witches yelled spells at Elijah, trying to bring him down. Elijah’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open.

Fear, you thought. Elijah’s next crucial emotion.

However, Elijah’s fear didn't last long, because he managed to seize the heart out of every witch’s chest, killing them all.

Finally, the street fell quiet. Whichever witches remained were too scared to come out. Thanks to Elijah, the Mikaelsons had won.

You pushed yourself up onto your arms on the street, fighting the velvet darkness of unconsciousness.

“Elijah…” you said, in barely a whisper.

Instantly, Elijah was cradling your body, cupping your head with one hand and holding your hip with the other. There was still blood on his hands and face, but he didn't seem to notice.

“How is the baby?” he murmured.

You bit your lip. You were happy Elijah had shown he could feel love again - but he hadn't directed it at you, but at the baby.

“Fine, I think. The pain’s gone,” you said. Despite everything that had happened, it felt good to be in Elijah’s arms. “Is… the baby the only thing you're woried about?” you said slowly.

Elijah looked down. “Y/n, I… cannot. If I let in tenderness, then anger, and jealousy, and most of all, guilt, will flood in. I - failed you. I cannot let myself feel that fact. I will crumble.”

You said, “I failed you too, once. Twice actually.” You laughed hoarsely.

Elijah’s body stiffened. “Was my brother correct in his taunting? Is it some… primal instinct that draws you to him?”

“Hell, no,” you said. “That was bullshit. The reason why I went to Klaus is because…” You could not meet his eye. “I guess I have this thing where I don't believe I deserve to be happy. And, we're so happy, that a part of me was trying to ruin it. To push you away. I did a pretty good job of it, didn't I?”

To your shock, Elijah didn't push you away. Instead, he pulled you to his chest, fiercely. You let yourself fall against him entirely. It was the first time anything in the world had felt right in the last week.

“We have quite a talent for hurting each other, do we not?” he said, his voice almost breaking.

“I want you in my life,” you said. “Broken promises, warts and all. And I want to be in your life - if you'll have me.”

Elijah held you tighter. “I will want you always, Y/n. I will not give you my word, as evidently, it means little. Let me give you this instead.”

And he kissed you, as you slipped into sweet oblivion in his arms.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 1 year ago

Text

Sick of Missing You

masterlist

summary: dean thought he had to let you go, but now he’s so sick of missing you

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.0k

warnings: language, (slightly) injured dean, cheating, i think that’s it?

gif source

“Dean?” you asked. “Is that you?” You turned on the living room light and, as you suspected, your boyfriend was sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room.

“Hey sweetheart,” he replied, his voice strained. “How was work?”

“Small talk, really?” you scoffed a little. “Dean, I can see your injuries from here, what happened to you?”

“Remember that job I told you about?” he laughed as he stood up, a pained wince leaving his lips. You hurried over to him, filled with worry.

“A ghost did this? How?” you asked. He had a deep cut on the side of his face, accompanied by an array of bruises. As he shrugged off his leather jacket, your eyes widened at the amount of blood seeping through the part of his shirt that covered his shoulder.

“A uh…A werewolf did this,” he said quietly. Somehow your eyes widened even more.

“Are you fucking with me Dean Winchester?”

He chuckled, “No, sweetheart, I’m not fucking with you. Werewolves are real, unfortunately.”

“I’m guessing they’re nothing like Jacob Black?” you muttered, eyes glued to his injuries.

“And Vampires aren’t like the Cullens, either.”

“Vampires!?” you practically shrieked. “You mean to tell me you’ve been fighting the fucking Salvatores this whole time and all you told me about was ghosts?”

“Salvatores?” He furrowed his brows.

“Vampire Diaries?” you replied, he nodded a little when he understood what you meant. “I guess that show wouldn’t be as fun to watch if you’d seen it firsthand.”

“Yeah, I’ve always been more into movies that don’t glamorize eating humans.” He smiled somewhat sarcastically. You rolled your eyes a little, before focusing back onto the blood he was sporting.

“So why the hell aren’t you at the hospital?” you asked him.

“Cause you were closer,” he replied, shrugging a little. He winced a little at the motion and your brows knitted with worry.

“Dean, I’m a veterinarian’s assistant, you shouldn’t have come to me for help?”

“Please?” he asked.

“Of course I’ll fucking help you!” you replied quickly. “Sit down at the kitchen table, I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

Keeping to your word, you stitched Dean up within the hour and let him shower as you found him some clean clothes to wear from all the times he’d stayed at your place.

“Thank you.” He smiled before he kissed you. “But, I can’t stay here tonight.”

“What?” you scoffed, smiling.

“I- I’m sorry but coming here tonight was a stupid mistake.”

“Dean, you’ve come here dozens of times this past year-and-a-half. What’re you talking about?”

“Look,” he sighed, “telling you about my job was a moment of stupid weakness, and if I stay with you now you have no idea the kind of danger you’ll be in.”

“So…?”

“So, this is goodbye.”

“What? No!” you exclaimed. You gripped his non-injured arm and forced him to look into your eyes. “This is not goodbye, Dean Winchester.”

“It has to be,” he whispered. Your eyes brimmed with tears as he stared down at you. “I’m sorry.” He started to walk to the door but you hurried and got between him and his destination.

“Dean Winchester I love you, please don’t go,” you exclaimed, tears running down your cheeks.

“I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” he whispered, eyes glued to the floor.

“What kind of fucking excuse is that!” you shouted. “Look at me you fucking coward!” He did as you asked, tears in his eyes now too. “If you walk out that door right now you will be hurting me so much more than anyone else ever could.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. Then he pushed past you and left. Out the door, out of your life. You locked the door behind him before trudging over to the couch and letting yourself cry.

You didn’t hear him, but before he left, Dean stood outside your door and whispered, “I love you too, Y/n.”

He never called. If he had you would’ve fucking answered, but he never even bothered.

He kept an eye on you, in a slightly-creepy way. (If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been very creepy. But this was Dean Winchester and his intentions were nothing but good; he just wanted to keep you safe.) He’d drive past your house or park outside where you worked to be sure you were still okay. To be sure one of the many monsters he’d pissed off hadn’t found you and taken revenge.

Once he watched as you carried two full bags of groceries into your home, and when one of the paper bags broke it took everything in him not to run and help. He told himself it was for the best, that he was keeping you safe and that’s all that mattered.

He hated himself every day he didn’t call you. He felt like such an asshole. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t say it back.

“Alright, I gotta ask,” Sam said one day when Dean had been staring at his laptop with an unusual amount of concentration. They had already finished the case and it was time for Dean to either get wasted and sleep with someone, or just go to bed. “What the hell are you looking at so intensely over there?” he laughed as he walked over and took a look at the screen. “Who’s she?”

“Nobody,” Dean mumbled as he closed the laptop, annoyed.

“Oh my god,” Sam exclaimed. “That’s Y/n!”

“Who?” Dean replied.

“That girl from Chicago you used to run off and stay with after we finished a case within a hundred mile radius of her house?”

“How…”

“I have eyes and ears and a working brain, that’s how.” He shook his head as he sat back down. Sam noticed the hurt in Dean’s eyes and realized there was a huge chance this girl had died and that’s why Dean hadn’t seen her in almost six months. “She okay?”

“Yeah, she- she’s fine. I think she’s seeing someone but I can’t tell if it’s serious or not.” Dean shrugged.

“So…you’re stalking your ex?”

Dean didn’t feel ashamed for ‘stalking’ you, even after Sam put it like that.

“Guess so,” Dean mumbled.

“Well what’s the new guy look like?” Sam asked, trying to be supportive of his brother’s obsession. “You’re sure they’re dating? Not just…friends?” Sam suggested. Dean took a moment to find the picture he had seen earlier on your FaceBook. When he found the page, he turned the laptop around and showed Sam, who cringe-clenched his teeth with sympathy. “Yeah, they’re dating.” The picture was of you and your new boyfriend kissing and the caption was a heart emoji. Clearly, you had moved on quicker than Dean.

Dean continued to keep an eye on you, but at more of a distance.

Until one evening, when he saw you his heart somehow broke more. You were stepping out of your car, wearing a beautiful, sexy red dress; but you were in tears. Balling your fucking eyes out, to be indelicate.

Before he could think twice, he was out of the Impala and hurrying toward you.

“Y/n!” Dean called out when he was a few yards away.

“Holy fuck!” you exclaimed loudly. Dean was the last person you expected to see right now. “Dean! What the hell?” You wiped your tears, trying to somewhat compose yourself.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He stood next to you now, and as he reached out to touch your shoulder you pulled your arm back.

You scoffed. “I just have the absolute worst taste in men, that’s all!” You brushed past him and he followed you to your door.

“Sweetheart please tell me what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?”

“Dean, come on! Are you really asking me that right now? This is nothing compared to the fucking tsunami of tears you caused me!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you aren’t, because if you were you would’ve called. You would’ve come back to me and apologized for taking my fucking heart out!” You walked into your house and slammed the door behind you, locking it before Dean could enter.

“I wanted to, Y/n, believe me!” he exclaimed against the door. “I wanted to call you every fucking day this past year. I thought I was protecting you but I’m fucking sick of this! I’m sick of sitting up at night and wishing I was with you. I’m sick of missing you, Y/n.”

“Why’d you come talk to me this time?” you asked, not opening the door.

“What do you mean?”

You opened the door so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ve seen that gorgeous Impala of yours parked outside the animal hospital and my house, you know.”

“Oh…” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward. “Sorry.”

“Every time I saw it- her, sorry,” you corrected yourself, remembering Baby had a name. You saw the way Dean smiled at your words. “Every time I wished you’d just come and talk to me. So why did you this time?”

“I- When I saw you were crying I thought you were hurt.” He watched as you opened the door enough so he could walk in.

“The guy I’ve been seeing for the past eight months just slept with my co-worker,” you told him as he walked in. “I just walked in on them.”

“Oh my god, Y/n I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t be,” you scoffed a little. “I didn’t love him.” You looked up into Dean’s bright green eyes as yours began to fill with tears again. “The man I really, truly, completely loved walked out on me after I told him.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Dean I want nothing more than to hug you and kiss you and let you tell me how much you care about me but I know it’s all a fucking lie. I know you’re just gonna walk out again,” you said. “If you need a place to stay tonight you can have the couch.” You walked toward the living room. “Fun fact, it’s the same couch I was glued to and crying on for about three days after you left. Got a pink slip at work and everything, so thanks for that,” you said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry!” Dean exclaimed, following you. “Please believe me; I was only trying to keep you safe! I didn’t want you to get hurt!”

“Hurt? Dean I told you that night you would be hurting me by leaving and you left anyway!” You turned back to face him, now both standing in the living room. There was a long pause as Dean thought of what he could possibly say to make you understand. To turn ‘man I loved’ into ‘man I love’. “So what’s different now? Why are you suddenly asking to be a part of my life again?”

“Because I’m so fucking sick of missing you. I’m so sick of this gut wrenching feeling I get every time I hear your name. I’m sick of not being able to call you when I want to hear your voice. I’m sick of missing you, Y/n. And I know it’s selfish as fuck to come back here, because I could very well be putting you in danger, but I’m just so sick of missing you.” Tears were streaming down Dean’s cheeks as he poured his heart out to you; hoping, praying you’d give him a second chance.

“Is that really the reason? The only reason you left was because you didn’t want a monster to follow you back here?” you asked, he nodded.

“Yes, yes Y/n, that’s the one and only reason.”

“Okay,” you whispered, his eyes widened. “Don’t look so suprised,” you let out a little laugh, “I still fucking love you, even though you may be an idiot.”

“You- You still love me?” he asked, you just smiled. “I love you, Y/n. I- I loved you back then but I- I just couldn’t say it.”

You reached your arms around his neck and quickly pulled him down into a deep kiss. He smiled against your mouth and you mirrored his expression.

“For the record,” you whispered when you pulled away. “I’m sick of missing you too.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x you #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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plumpedxprincess · 11 months ago

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once you mate with a werewolf there's no going back.

first they start out simple, plumping you up and getting you to put on extra weight. they care for you and cook and help you around the house, buying new clothes and squeezing and rubbing all the new curves that bloom along your hips, thighs, torso and breasts.

then they tell you what's coming. they're going into rut soon and they will fill you so full of seed you'll feel fit to burst. a shiver of excitement runs through you.

the night of the full moon you fuck for hours, and by dawn you're rubbing your belly, bloated with cum and happily sated. you don't think about what the next few months will bring until the morning sickness comes.

and it comes with a vengeance. by the time you realize you're pregnant, you're showing which should be impossible right? but no, werewolves reproduce in litters and you are full of more than five pups at least.

you grow steadily, halfway torn between loving watching your body grow and change and scared because it's only been a few months-- how are you so large already?

by six months you're struggling to get out of bed. your werewolf mate helps you dress in the morning and tears off your clothes at night, fucking you mercilessly into the mattress.

by seven months your nesting instincts are in overdrive. you prepare your delivery room and prepare the nursery and you enjoy learning to cook for your mate.

he comes home from work to see you bent over the oven, checking on the food. he squeezes your hips to alert you of his presence.

he kisses along your neck, leaving little bite marks as you lean against him. he lifts your belly with his strong hands and you moan as the pressure leaves for small stature for a few moments.

"smells good," he rumbles against your skin.

"it's almost ready," you reply, opening the oven to take the dish out.

"i meant you," he says, "you smell heavenly, wearing my mark and so full of my pups. perfect."

as soon as you turn off the oven he hikes up your skirt, which has barely been able to cover your ass for weeks.

he sticks his cock in you, rutting into you at a quick pace, leaving you breathless with pleasure.

it doesn't take long to come, and you feel his cum fill you up even more. you've felt so full for weeks, there's simply no room.

the pups inside you squirm, having woken up from the aggressive movements, and you groan as they kick against each other and you.

the pack's healer said he counted at least six during your last wellness check in, but the pups move around so much it's hard to tell. they are growing big and strong, constantly worrying you about how much bigger you could possibly get.

you'd seen other women in the pack with pregnant bellies, but they were also werewolves, biologically meant to carry pups.

it wasn't every day that a werewolf decided to mate with a human, and while it was perfectly safe, it was definitely more intense.

your belly expanded with each passing day it seemed. with so many pups to grow, you ate throughout the day, and watched as your hips widen, your walking turned to waddles, and your tits grew.

around the nine month mark, you still tried to cook, still gave into the nesting instincts, but you found yourself sitting more often than not.

your shirts barely fit, your hands couldn't reach around your entire midsection, and the pups squirmed every second of the day.

you were so full. your skin ached and your womb worked overtime to expand with the growing pups. they were heavy and strong, and you feared what labor would bring.

but your werewolf mate came home, and like clockwork he bent you over the couch, whispering possessive sweet nothings and bringing you to orgasm.

when you finally went into labor you felt bittersweet. feeling plump and overwhelmed by your belly had become normal.

you couldn't help but dream of doing it again.

#writing #werewolves #werewolf pregnancy #hyperpregnancy #pregnancy kink #multiples pregnancy #pregnancy #pregnant #pregblr #fpreg #werewolf #werewolf pregnant #a/b/o dynamics #ish

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loousir · 1 year ago

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[Werewolf] What about me?

Male Werewolf x Male Reader

Draven

Notes/Warnings: TW for reader breakup, mentions of an affair, non-aggressive confrontation, reader comfort, idk, this one is short but I'm content with it, haven't been feeling great lately lol, not very proof read

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You currently laid in bed, tears streaming down you face as you hugged your pillow. You trusted people too easily and it came back to bite you in the ass today. You had gone out for a dinner date with the guy you had been dating for a month. Everything was going great. He sat you down, treated you amazingly, like nothing you could have dreamed of. Made you think he was the one. But turns out he wasn't. While the two of you were together, a woman approached you and, albeit kindly, told you that this was actually her husband. She wasn't mad at you since she knew how he could act but you still couldn't help but feel guilty. You opted to leave so they could argue or fight about it, having felt so betrayed by who you thought could be the one.

A cab was called and you cried all the way back home, tearfully messaging your best friend about what had happened. You could see that he read the messages but didn't respond. You knew he would eventually and just figured he was busy. While you lied in bed, going over what happened and the things you two did while you were together, it almost made sense. He was being so nice to mask the fact he was doing something so horrible. You couldn't help but cry more, thinking how blind you were to the signs. While you were crying, you didn't hear the front door open or the heavy footsteps making their way towards you until you felt a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around you. At first, you were understandably panicked, whipping your head around to find out who it was only to see the soft gaze of the only man you've trusted for years.

You instantly turned around and hugged him tightly, crying into his chest as he shushed and comforted you. Even though he was thinking the whole 'I told you so' shtick, he kept quiet and let you get out your emotions. Once it seemed like you had calmed down enough, he pulled away and looked down to you with a smile. "Feel a little better?" He asked, wiping away some of the tears with his thumb. "A little..." You mumbled, hiding your face away again, the sound of his heart beat comforting you. "Let's get up and take a shower. Rise that gross memory away." He said softly, sitting up while you stayed, cuddling into the bed more as you didn't want to move. He stared down to you for a moment and rolled his eyes. "C'mon, get up, let's go." He said, pulling you up and out of the bed with ease.

You whined but held onto him as he carried you into the bathroom. "Do I need to help you get undressed or can you do that yourself?" Draven asked, setting you on the counter. He stood between your legs, making you blush and shake your head, pushing him away as you got up. "Just wait outside." You said quickly, voice still a little shaky from crying. With a small sigh, you closed the door and changed into the nude. You turned on the water and waited for a moment before getting in. It was still a bit cold for your liking but it didn't bug you, washing away the day felt nice. Draven knocked at the door and asked, "May I come in?" You mumbled out a yea before hearing the door squeak open. "Its just a change of clothes." He said before closing the door again. After a few more minutes of just sitting under the water, you stepped out and dried off, seeing that he brought a pair of comfy clothes for you to wear.

With a small smile, you slipped them on. When you got to the shirt you noticed it was big on you, making you blush when you realized it was Dravens. And it was still warm. You couldn't help but blush more knowing that he had given you the shirt off his back to wear. As soon as you stepped out if the bathroom, Draven instantly swept you off your feet, causing you to yelp and cling onto him. "I hate that you can do that..." You mumbled out, hiding your face. He chuckled and hugged you close. "You smell so much better." He mumbled, barely fluent enough for you to understand. "H-huh?" You pulled back and looked at him, blush traveling to your ears at this point.

Draven tilted his head like the big puppy he is. "What?" He asked, convincingly pretending like he didn't say anything. "You... Nevermind." You said softly, hugging him close as he carried you into the living room. Little did you know, Draven only made you shower cause you, to him, smelled gross, even if you were dressed in your best cologne. You smelled like a man he hated, someone disgusting. Which is also why he gave you his shirt, opting to rock the tank underneath. "Draven you didn't have to do all this..." You said, seeing all the snacks and blankets laid out for the two of you.

"No. But, I wanted to." He said, setting you on the couch. Draven didn't let you move as he wrapped you in blankets, giving you drinks and snacks to choose from. Even though you thought he would snuggle up under the blanket with you, he didn't. Draven made himself cozy next to you, turning on the TV and putting on your favourite thing to watch. The more you thought about it, why did he go out of his way to do all these things? You weren't together but he almost treated you like you were. While you thought and went over the possibilities in your head, you were unintentionally staring at him. He could only assume what you were thinking but ended up asking, "What about me?"

This time, you tilted your head. "What?" "What about me?" He asked again, locking eyes with you as you thought for a moment. You didn't fully understand what he asked at first before realizing. He was asking, what if you dated him instead? "I... I didn't think you were into guys..." You said softly, having only ever seen him with girlfriends before. Draven glanced away awkwardly. "I wasn't. At least I didn't think I was." He said softly, looking back to you with a small smile. "Not until I met you." Draven paused for a second and bit his lip gently. "I didn't actually break up with my last girlfriend cause she was bad or anything... I broke up with her cause spending time with you made me realize I was actually into men. I was into you, specifically." He pauses and chuckles. "I mean, I'm still into you but-" You didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Dravens hands naturally found their way to your waist, pulling you a bit closer. "Is there anything else important you need to tell me?" You asked once the two of you pulled away, keeping your eyes locked with his. Draven was contemplating if he should be honest or not. "I'm a werewolf?" He said, almost questioning what he said. Your brows furrowed, before a small smile a laugh left you. After your small giggle session you realized he was dead serious. "I dont believe you." You said, looking at him, slightly concerned. "Earlier when I picked you up, I said that you smelled better." He stated, one hand making its way up to cup your cheek. "You smelled like that prick still, his scent was all over you." Draven said, leaning in and nuzzling his nose in your neck. "Now you smell like me." He whispered, making you blush again, still unsure how to react to his sudden reveal. "I-I'm not sure if I fully believe you on that..." Draven pulled back and tilted his head.

"On the whole sudden Werewolf reveal..." You said softly, still being a bit shocked at the possible fact that he's a werewolf. Draven thought for a moment before using one of his large hands to cover your eyes. You protested at the sudden lack of sight and tried to pry his hand away but he wouldn't move. After a minute, he let go and you blinked a couple times. Your brows furrowed again when you saw two wolf ears sitting atop his head, perked and focused solely on you. "Haha, very cute." You said, thinking he was actually joking. You reached up and grabbed one of the ears, pulling on it gently only to realize it was actually attached to his head. "Wait seriously?" You asked, other hand shooting up to pet his other ear. They're super soft for a wolf. Draven blushed softly and nodded as you nearly crawled into his lap to pet and scratch behind his ears. He couldn't help but hide his face in your neck when you noticed he had a tail that was happily wagging behind him.

"Oh gods youre too cute..." You mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Draven hugged you close and kissed at your neck gently. "Is this ok?" He asked, making you nod and ask him to keep going. Dravens kisses were slow and sweet, as if he was savoring you, making you shiver. "Draven..." You mumbled out, hugging him as well when he pulled back to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You're too good for that asshole." He said, keeping you pressed up against him. Draven laid back, keeping you close while you snuggled into him, his tail still swishing against the couch. "I think we could work." You said, nuzzling your face into his neck this time. Draven smiled and squeezed you tight for a moment before loosening his grip again. "I'd like that."

#male x male reader #werewolf male x male reader #x male reader #xmalereader #monster x male reader #male monster x male reader #monster male #exophilia #m4m #monster lover #mxm #male reader

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gamerwoo · 4 months ago

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[Tales from the Pack] Jeonghan: Sold (Part Four)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, angst, reader is referred to as 'blue', mentions of death, mentions of human trafficking, murder at the end (no major characters are harmed)

Word count: 2,446

Summary: If Jooyeon and Baekhyun never went snooping around the black market, they would’ve never discovered the human trafficking ring and wanted to help. They would’ve never discovered you inside one of the many cages full of people, and Jeonghan would’ve never went against the alphas and demanded they help. But for you, Jeonghan would do anything, even if it means bringing back trouble from a past he never knew about.

Previous | Next | Sold Masterlist

Jeonghan was honestly surprised how soundly you slept considering everything that happened, but he figured you must’ve been exhausted. Kyung had told them everything Saoirse had said when they first visited, so it must’ve been heaven for you to sleep in a real bed.

He didn’t sleep, though. Even though you were safe at home, he was afraid someone would come looking for you. So he sat up in a chair in the corner of the room and watched you sleep. Which was kind of nice since he knew when people started arriving home, and he knew all of his brothers and sisters were safe.

He did, unfortunately, hear about Saoirse not making it from Jihoon telling Kyung downstairs.

As Jeonghan watched you sleep throughout the night, he couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe he finally found his mate. He waited years to find you, and now you were sleeping in his bed, already so trusting of him. It made his heart swell. He may have shed a few tears that night out of pure joy.

In the morning, he had to make a plan. He was sure life couldn’t just carry on as normal, so he had to figure out how to help you adjust, as well as mourn the loss of the girl he assumed was your friend.

It was late morning when you finally roused from your slumber, your joints popping as you stretched and yawned. Your eyes fluttered open from your dreamless sleep to see Jeonghan already kneeling by the bed, looking at you with warm, curious eyes. He’d introduced himself to you last night, telling you his name and what he was. And when he said he wanted to keep you with him that night, he seemed confused how you’d so easily agreed. But you didn’t see any reason to fear a werewolf, especially when they were the ones who’d saved a large group of people from a human trafficking ring for seemingly no reason. You’d never seen any proof to be afraid of werewolves.

Well, maybe except for Eunjin, who Jeonghan told you about once he’d brought you upstairs.

“Good morning,” he smiled softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Amazing,” your voice was groggy as you smiled back at him, closing your eyes for just one last moment of bliss. “Thank you again.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he chuckled. “Hungry?”

Your eyes snapped open, and he laughed a little louder, “I guess that’s a yes.”

Jeonghan had given you clean clothes when you arrived last night. The house had been silent and appeared empty other than a couple of other werewolves who were awake – they’d said their names were Mingyu and Joshua – and of course, Eunjin, who Jeonghan told you was a banshee. Still, Jeonghan had warned you it was a ‘full house’ so you were unsure of who you’d run into this morning.

He led you downstairs, taking your hand delicately in his and keeping it there as he led you down the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen where you heard a plethora of voices, and even the voice of a baby. Upon entering the kitchen, you saw it was indeed full, but you also saw it was full of humans.

“Oh!” one of the girls with dark brown eyes smiled warmly when she noticed you, causing other heads to turn as the individual conversations hushed. “You’re awake! It’s so nice…to…”

Her sentence died off as she noticed you slowly move behind Jeonghan. You gripped the back of his shirt for dear life, your eyes flitting around the room, examining every human in the space. They all seemed to be women, but still, it didn’t make you any less wary of them.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft as he turned his head to look at you, “none of them will hurt you. They’re werewolves, remember? Like me.”

You slowly shook your head, eyes not leaving the women in the kitchen, “Not them…”

Well, this is new, Jeonghan thought.

He’d never met a human who was afraid of other humans rather than werewolves. None of them had, actually. The mates looked around at each other and the other werewolves, unsure of how to approach this situation.

“Blue– Erm– Hey,” a new man with dark hair and golden eyes stepped forward with a small but friendly smile, “...why don’t we bring you somewhere else away from…the…humans?”

You nodded eagerly.

The man exchanged looks with Jeonghan before Jeonghan turned and began to lead you back upstairs to the bedroom.

Seungcheol looked over his shoulder, nodding for Kyung and Cooper to follow him. He figured having two women might be a little helpful, and they were two of the handful of obviously non-humans that were awake and in the kitchen.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Arinya pouted.

While Joshua wanted to tell her it was probably because she was mostly clueless to most things, he settled for messing up her hair and saying, “Maybe when you’re older.”

The small group filed into Jeonghan’s bedroom before Kyung closed the door. You sat on the bed looking up at them while Jeonghan sat on the bed beside you. You looked each one over carefully, noting their golden eyes. None of them were human. Good. That was good.

“Firstly, I never got to properly introduce myself,” the man with dark hair smiled warmly. “My name is Seungcheol. I’m one of 4 alphas of this pack. You remember Kyung, I assume. And thi is Coo– Uh, Rin.”

“Cooper’s fine,” the girl shrugged.

“So, what should we call you?” Kyung asked you.

You looked between them all and shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Maybe it sounded silly, but you didn’t have a name. You were sure you were given one at birth, but you didn’t remember it. A whole bunch of unfortunate circumstances led to your name being lost along with your parents, and every unfortunate circumstance involved humans.

For the pack, it was quite the pickle. They had been referring to you as Blue, but it seemed a little…awful to do that. It tied you to the shock collar that used to be around your neck. It felt almost demeaning to call you that, as if you were just some animal with no real name.

But unfortunately, it was all they had to go off of.

“Is…Blue…okay?” Jeonghan asked, deciding he should be the one to step up and say it. He wondered if you’d even put two and two together.

But of course you did. Every so often, the men would do their counts. Counting all the different colored collars. Making sure they were all accounted for and none had somehow managed to escape. You were one of eight with a blue collar, but you were the only one in your cage with one.

Instead of saying anything, you just nodded. If it came from Jeonghan, Blue was okay.

“Blue,” Cooper began almost hesitantly, seeming to be testing the name out to make sure you wouldn’t suddenly decide it offended you, “so…you’re a…human, right?”

“Y-yes…” you replied almost nervously. You didn’t know why she was asking.

“No, no,” she quickly said when she saw the strange look you gave her, “I’m only asking because…well, you seemed to be…afraid of the humans downstairs.”

You scoffed, “Are you not? They’re monsters.”

The four wolves almost started laughing. In fact, Jeonghan accidentally let out a snort and had to cover it up as a cough. They never thought the tables would turn like this. They were always the ones being called monsters by humans.

“Can I ask where you came from?” Seungcheol wondered. “How did you end up there?”

“I don’t…really know,” you confessed slowly, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to remember exactly what happened. “I was on the streets, and suddenly, I was in a cage. I don’t remember anything between those times.”

That didn’t help them at all.

“What about before that?” Kyung asked. “Do you have a family? We just want to know so we can maybe help you get home.”

You shook your head, “No family. No home.”

“Nothing?” Cooper asked incredulously.

“Humans,” you replied grimly.

That gave them more questions than answers. Questions that they weren’t fit to be asking just yet. You were afraid of humans and didn’t trust them, yet their house was filled with them. There was no way you’d trust them enough just yet to give everything about yourself away. If anything, they were worried they’d have to make sure you didn’t try to run away.

So, instead, they’d have to start working forward. They’d have to get your trust before prying. Jeonghan was sure he could do that. But he didn’t care about the prying. He only cared about your trust.

It wasn’t often the wolves frequented the pub for a good time considering they typically wanted to lay low, but for this meeting, they felt it might be nice to celebrate their victory over a pint or two. So the alphas of the four packs – except for Kyung, who opted to stay home and spend some time with Hansol – met up at a pub in the Capitol to talk about their mission’s success.

“How’s the new mate adjusting?” Hanbin chuckled.

“She’s terrified of humans,” Soonyoung scoffed before taking a big gulp of his beer. He noticed the shocked looks and nodded. “Yeah, plot twist, right?”

“How is a human afraid of humans?” Chris wondered.

“A very traumatic upbringing from what we could gather,” Seungcheol nodded, gripping his glass like he was having flashbacks to something traumatic as well.

Jeonghan still hadn’t gotten much from conversations with you, but he was sure something would come up with how much time the two of you had already spent together. He was always with you. They explained werewolves were significantly stronger than humans so he could protect you from them. He became almost like a guard dog for you.

“What about the refugees?” Jihoon asked, deciding to change the subject to a slightly lighter topic. “Everyone doing okay?”

“We still have a handful at our place,” Junmyeon reported. “Just a couple of them getting patched up by Yixing. We want to make sure they’re fully healed before we let them off with Dr. Minjee. I know she’s perfectly capable of healing them the old fashioned way, but…Yixing is more convenient, and he’s more than happy to do so.”

“All of ours got picked up by Sura and taken to safehouses,” Chris nodded with a smile.

Though, the alphas did notice that Chris had a few new scars on his neck and arms. Given their knowledge of his power, they knew he must’ve done some help with managing their pain before they were sent off with Sura.

“All but one of ours went with Prajya today,” Hanbin told them.

“Just one?” Seungcheol asked.

Hanbin chuckled with a smirk, “We think Baekhan finally imprinted.”

The boys began whistling and howling – nothing noticed by the other patrons since they were even rowdier than the wolves sitting at a table together – for the pup of Hanbin’s pack. He was the only one that wasn’t mated – unless they counted Rika, but she was a human – and he was one of the shyest members of the pack.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet,” Hanbin explained, “so we’re just saying we’re healing her until he finally speaks up.”

“Speaking of,” Junmyeon looked back to the three alphas, “did Jeonghan tell…Blue everything?”

“Not the imprinting thing, no,” Seungcheol stated. “I’m sure she’ll take it well, though.”

“But also speaking of mates,” Chris spoke up, looking worriedly at the eldest of the three alphas, “does she know anything about the pack that they were being sold to?”

Seungcheol shook his head, “They weren’t given many details, but we’re keeping an eye out for any stray wolves or any new packs in the area. We figure since we’re a little spread out that you guys should do the same and keep the group updated so we can plan accordingly.”

Unfortunately, even though they had rescued you from the black market, it didn’t mean you were completely safe. Because now there was a pack of werewolves out there that weren’t getting the mates they had paid for, and the packs were sure they would go searching for them.

The sound of the man’s back hitting the metal bars rang out in the night, the breath getting knocked out of his lungs. His hands clawed at the strong hand around his neck, squeezing his throat and blocking any way to inhale air back into his lungs.

“Where the fuck are they?!” the man in front of him roared just inches from his face.

“I-I-I’m sorry!” the guard sobbed. “A bunch of wolves showed up and tore the place apart! We tried to stop them but there were fifty of ‘em! I swear, we–”

In an instant, the man’s nails extended into claws and sliced through the guard’s neck. His body fell with a gurgling sound, laying among the other dead guards and captives that littered the place.

The man took a deep breath and let it out in annoyance as he rolled his eyes and walked around what used to be the inside of the tent, inspecting the cages that had been broken into. The place had been burned down to ash, along with some of the bodies of guards and captives that had died. Some humans lay lifeless in werewolf traps around the perimeter, their flesh burnt off from their bones. Others had bullet holes in their skulls or half-burned bodies. The grass was completely burnt up and covered in dried blood that had bubbled from the heat and then cooled into a hard, sticky goo.

“What now, Jaemin?” one of the other men asked.

Jaemin’s red eyes continued to scan the room one more time before he turned to look at his pack. The four men studied him carefully, waiting for his instruction.

“Well, we’re definitely getting our money back,” he chuckled. “And I think we’re owed some reimbursement for our missing goods.”

As Jaemin turned to leave, the other four followed him out.

“Who do you think did this?” another asked.

“And why?” wondered a third, eyeing the place over one more time before leaving.

Jaemin easily found the metal box where the men were keeping their money, breaking it open effortlessly and counting through the bills inside.

“No idea,” he sighed as he began counting the money, “but you bet your ass I’m gonna find out who did, and I’m taking back what’s ours.”

»»————-　　————-««

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#k-labels #seventeen #jeonghan #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fic #werewolf!seventeen #jeonghan au #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenario #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan fic #werewolf!jeonghan

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bingwriterxo · 1 year ago

Text

a love more than love

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: in which wednesday breaks her normal routine to visit you

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 750+

author's note: i posted this on wattpad a while ago, but i really enjoy it, so i wanted to bring it over to this platform, too!

"Isn't this your designated writing time?" Enid asked her roommate, watching with curiosity as the raven-haired girl dug through her wardrobe, looking for a specific piece of clothing.

Wednesday sighed, drew away from the piece of furniture, and turned towards the blonde. "Yes, Enid, but more important things have arisen."

"Such as...?" The blonde knew it was a dangerous game to pester the other girl, but she wasn't used to Wednesday going against her calculated schedule. It intrigued her more than it should have, and she wanted answers.

"If you must know, I'm going to visit Y/N," Wednesday admitted. "It's been one year."

Enid's gaze flitted to the floor for a moment before returning to her roommate. "Oh."

A heavy silence blanketed the two girls, and the Addams turned back around to continue her search, though it only lasted for a moment or two before she faced the werewolf again.

"Have you seen my sweatshirt? The one with the zipper?" she asked, tapping her foot on the floor as she impatiently awaited a response.

"Thing dragged it under the bed the other day," Enid said, pointing towards Wednesday's mattress. With a curt nod as a thank you, the raven-haired girl walked over to her bed before dropping to her knees and reaching beneath it, her fingers finding the offending item. She pulled it out, dusted it off, and then put it on over her shirt. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Wednesday ignored her question. "I'll be back before night fall."

* * *

The cemetery was completely empty of anything living when Wednesday arrived. She wandered through the area in search of your gravesite as she hadn't returned since the burial, but it wasn't hard to find: your tombstone--a stark white granite and surrounded by vibrant flowers, all left by friends that had visited that day--stood out amongst the others.

She sat in front of the gravestone, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them, her arms wrapping around her legs. For a moment, she merely stared at the epitaph that had been engraved in the stone:

We loved with a love that was more than love.

It was a quote from your favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem, "Annabel Lee," and was a sentence that Wednesday had heard fall from your lips numerous times. It slipped off of your tongue in such an elegant way that it had seemed almost as natural to you as breathing.

"We loved with a love that was more than love," Wednesday recited in a murmur. She reached a hand out, traced the words with her forefinger, tried to ignore the feelings that were stirring within her. "I loved you with a love that was more than love."

Softly, she pressed her palm flat against the stone as though you would be able to reach out and touch your hand to hers, run your pinky along the edge of her own before looping the two together, bring her hand to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of her knuckles. But you were no longer able to do any of these things, and she would never experience your fingers interlocked with her own again, and that thought alone caused a tear to slip from her eye and roll down her cheek.

"You weren't supposed to die." She pretended not to notice the crack of her voice, the guilt that was weighing in her chest, the sadness that invaded her heart. "It was supposed to be me."

It was Thornhill that caused your death: a single bullet had exited the chamber of her gun, and it had found its home in your stomach rather than Wednesday's. Minutes later, the raven-haired girl was left cradling your lifeless body with a horrible emptiness settling inside her.

"You loved everyone with a love that was more than love," she whispered, frowning. "It wasn't meant to end so soon." A sob threatened to erupt from her throat, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, cara mia."

With a shaky hand, she pressed her fingers to her lips before touching them against the stone, a gesture that the two of you had made your own. When you first began dating, on days when Wednesday couldn't stand much physical affection--which was quite frequent--you would kiss her by doing that exact motion, and she often found herself returning it. It quickly turned into a normal act of appreciation, and the two of you found yourselves doing it on a daily basis.

"I will always love you with a love that is more than love."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday series #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix

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dragon-chica · 2 years ago

Text

Enid Sinclair - Heat (NSF W)

Fandom: Wednesday

You asked, and now I deliver.

Enid will tell you, by far the worst thing about being a werewolf is having to deal with heats. Even before she was able to transform she still had to suffer through them.

When she was younger and they first started it was bad enough, a 3 week period of bleeding and hormones and feeling like absolute shit. That was supposed to change when she got older, and it did. It got worse.

Now she goes from bleeding, and hormones, and feeling like absolute shit to all of that plus a burning fever, a deep and primal yearning for a mate, and the endless urge to hump something until it breaks. And break it again.

When you got together, Enid fell in love with you fast and hard. In no time she was writing 'Y/n my Mate' in hearts instead of just 'Y/n + Enid' in hearts and daydreaming about your life down the road together.

When she first thought to herself that maybe you'd even spend her heat with her, she popped that bubble quick and shook it out of her head. no. that would be dangerous and bad.

She could hurt you, she could scare you off, she's broken her bed frame on her own before and could definitely break you by accident. That would so not be a good way to convince you she'd be a great mate.

Her plan was great. Her plan was safe. She was going to ignore you for her entire heat so she couldn't be mean to you (when it's just starting she can say some hurtful things, bad enough for her brothers to shut up and could make Wednesday proud), and no way of her hurting you.

It was great.

Until you showed up at her dorm and she wanted to cry because her mate was here and wanted to take care of her and she did start crying and you held her in your arms because you're the best mate ever and then she thought maybe it would be okay for you to stay for a few days. Until she gets worse.

She swore she would make you leave once her heat really started coming into effect. For now you could comfort her and hold her and it'd be no problem, that alone honestly did bring her a lot of relief, you being by her side and caring for her.

Her plan was sound. And you're so doting and wonderful and the perfect mate that a little part of her purposely ignored the signs and she snuggled into your embrace and breathed in your scent

When she woke up it was already too late.

The heat in her room was unbearable, her silky pajamas felt like sandpaper but the only thing that really mattered was getting release.

She had started growling in her sleep awhile before, teeth longer and having gone from nuzzling into your neck to scraping her fangs long it and saliva drooling down against you.

The shift in her had been quick, cuddling against you had turned to her still sleeping form purposely pining you to the bed beneath her, and by the time Enid woke up your leg was soaked from her humping your thigh.

She adjusts herself for a better angle to drag along your leg, pressing closer for more friction and groans.

She swore she would kick you out, but now the thought of you trying to leave has her seeing red without you even having moved.

"Mine" she growls into your ear and picks up her pace, claws coming out and pressing against you, pricking into her mattress as she chases her high enough to have the bed shaking.

She cums with a low drawl out groan that makes your throat go dry. Aftershocks leave her twitching while bent over you, her hair is a sweaty mess and hot breaths panting in your face and for a moment you think she feels better, that she got some relief.

"Fuck me." She looks up at you with blown pupils and crazed eyes, her voice gravely and deep like you have never heard before and the moment to admire her is too long because she adds "Fuck me, or I'll make you fuck me myself."

You've never seen Enid so frenzied and you're not sure you'll be allowed to make it out of this alive, and when she yanks you into sitting up, sharp claws shredding through your shirt and nicking your flesh while she tries to tear your pants, you're not sure if you care about that either.

When she really goes into heat, she wants it rough. She will use you and bruise you without noticing, the burn between her legs and need for more clouds out everything else.

Her werewolf strength is out without meaning to be, she doesn't even notice.

She wants to scent you, she wants to be drowned in your scent, she wants you to bite her.

It doesn't matter that you're not a werewolf, you're her mate and that's all that matters. Sink your teeth into her and her moan will almost become a howl of ecstasy.

She craves all of you, kisses and plain closeness too, but that's just as harsh with her teeth knocking against yours and a bruising kiss after another.

Usually Enid's moans and whines are extremely cute, high pitched and sweet, in her heat she sounds like a rabid animal with her voice in a worked up growl.

Almost forgets your name and couldn't care less about hers, calls you her Mate, chanting the word as she rides you, staring into your eyes.

Anything you say is lost to the blood rushing in her ears.

She wants you to fuck her as hard as you can, soft and sweetness can be for every other time, in her heat you will either give her what she needs or she will get it by herself.

She craves closeness, needing you pressed against her, wants you to pin her down, press you both into the mattress and be as close as possible. She needs you.

Normally she loves when you eat her out but there's not time for that, fuck her or fist her but your arm hurt so much.

Her claws are out the entire time, your back is shredded and stings no matter how you move, her mattress needs replaced and there's gashes in the wall.

She can go for a few hours straight before she calms down enough to rest, and even then she's in a heart eyed bliss and doesn't want you to leave her side.

If she even thinks you're going to leave her she will be up in an instant and ask "Where do you think you're going?" "You're not trying to leave me are you? ARE YOU?" extremely possessive but if you don't get some water she might actually be the death of you.

When she finally calms down you're too sore to move and she seems blissfully content, laying with her head over your heart and sounding like she's purring, a sweet smile on her face and long fluttering lashes as she's falling asleep.

Luckily for your lifeline, her heat is significantly shorter when riding it out with someone and getting what she craves instead of by herself.

The morning after she's finally come to her senses, the heat wearing off to a bearable pulse and back in her right mind, Enid is horrified.

Her room smells horrible, her bed looks like carnage of a wild animal's attack, and you, oh god.

She panics not knowing what she did and wakes you up and you expect she's ready for another round, when you actually did collapse a few hours prior, but instead she's looking over you panicked, seeing her claw marks, bruises littering your skin, her fluids all over you...

In that stressed out observation she also feels quite a bit of pride before being horrified with herself again and running out to get a first aid kit and some water.

In the bathroom she catches her reflection in the mirror and her face, which had finally calmed with her fever gone, turns bright cherry and she can't help but stare at herself a moment, hands clutching the small first aid box tight enough for the plastic to crack.

There's numerous bite marks along her shoulders and neck, some dark bruises and some healing punctures and she remembers demanding you bite her harder. Harder. Heat crawls up her neck just thinking around it.

Her own hips have fading bruises, her lips and positively swollen and she looks mussed as if she'd been in a fight. There's hickeys down her chest and really everywhere else, scratches down her back from your nails and she realizes that she's completely nude.

And despite the fact she's been that since her true heat started, she lets out a cute "eep!" you hear from the other room and chuckle because she's back.

When she returns she's thrown on an oversized shirt and you almost want to laugh at her sudden modesty.

She can't stop apologizing while patching you up, but you're just relieved it's over and barely staying awake trying to tell her it's okay.

You feel like you just went through a speedrun of the opposite of No Nut November and are glad werewolves only go into heat once a year.

Enid notes that she feels better than she ever has before after a heat, not just that the aching need is receding, but was actually taken care of, satisfied. The ache between her thighs is burning, her clit and pussy are definitely swollen, but she feels wonderful.

"is there like, some kind of steroid or potion I can get so I can try and keep up with you next time?" you weakly ask, half joking and half pleading that there is.

"Next time" is ringing in her head, you already plan on spending her next heat with her, her heart feels like bursting and if you weren't looking like you were on death's doorstep she'd jump your bones again right now.

You are sore. Full body muscle aches sore and exhausted, for at least two weeks afterwards while Enid's bounced back to normal within a day of it ending.

She's very apologetic and tries to do everything she can to help you out so you don't strain yourself further.

You definitely get teased for the most obvious, worn out, 'morning week after' but you can't really bring yourself to care.

You may want to thank your lucky stars that it'll still be a few years until she fully transforms during her heat.

#Enid Sinclair x reader #Enid Sinclair imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #Enid Sinclair #my stuff

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abarbaricyalp · 1 month ago

Text

Written for the @sambuckyhalloweenbingo !!!

No archive warnings apply for this story

In Every Mask, I See You

Bucky was in DC on Halloween. Which sucked because he'd promised Cass he'd help with the werewolf costume and all the bloody makeup. He'd gotten two sets of sad Wilson eyes when he'd face timed to let him know--from Cass and Sarah, which he hadn't understood until a few hours ago when he'd seen Sam posting about being home to take the boys trick-or-treating that year. Sarah had totally conspired to get them in the same house at the same time.

What doubly sucked was that the whole reason he was in DC and not down at a neighborhood party, watching Halloween projected on someone's garage door and stealing candy from the boys, was a super important meeting, which had ended up being canceled an hour beforehand. He hated this job.

The house he bought--and pretended like he didn't share with Sam when they were not both in DC at the same time--was in a nice enough neighborhood and the sounds of kids shrieking and laughing had started up well before dark. Bucky didn't have a costume or a kid or even a dog to justify wandering around outside, but he couldn't help himself. His chest literally ached with missing Cass and AJ, and it's not like he really wanted to stay in and watch horror movies by himself.

He threw on a baseball cap (even though his neighbors knew Bucky Barnes lived in the neighborhood) and put on a shirt with the shield on it and a jacket. It had been getting a little cooler in the evenings and he didn't want to draw more attention to himself than was necessary by flashing the metal around. Besides, he was not in the mood to hear any how the colors weren't right or the plates didn't align or whatever other inane thing people could critique a Winter Soldier costume for.

He had expected the usual fare of costumes--ghosts and zombies and princesses and whatever teenagers passed off as costumes nowadays. He had not been expecting to open his door and immediately see Captain America running down the street, shield jostling on his little back.

There were so many Sams. There were plenty of other heroes too-- Captain Marvel, Bishop and Khan, Thor, the spider kid. But by and large, Captain America had the run of the night. There were babies in shield themed onesies and kids in bought costumes and adults in fancier handmade ones. Boys, girls, young, old, all decked out in Sam's white outfit or the sleek, new, darker one he'd been wearing recently. All of the wings were pretty priceless. Everyone was trying to take off in flight.

It was a little disorienting, actually. Since Bucky had been assigned to the whole Thunderbolts bullshit and Sam had had to take on whatever fresh hell Ross concocted, they hadn't seen much of each other. Bucky had fucked that up. He usually did. It was complicated. It was stupid. He was stupid. And none of it was fair. Especially not to Sam, but not to him either when he was reminded of how good and noble and wonderful and inspiring Sam was by a hundred people in his neighborhood. He hadn't been able to so much as look at or smell or even hug Sam in months and now he was completely overwhelmed with Sam and people's love of him.

Someone tapped Bucky's hip while he stood at an intersection and greatly debated going home and going to bed. Night had fallen, but there were enough streetlights, car lights, and patio lights illuminating houses doing far more than they needed to for trick-or-treating to keep visibility fairly high. Bucky turned and found yet another Sam staring up at him. The kid couldn't have been even ten yet and he looked just about on the verge of tears, big dark eyes shining.

"Hey, Cap," Bucky greeted and then felt like he was on the verge of tears too.

"I lost my Bucky!" the kid cried and then plastered himself to Bucky's leg, just about taking out his knee in the process. "I don't know where I am!"

"Woah, woah, hey," Bucky babbled while he freed his leg and squatted down in front of him. "It's alright. We'll find him together, okay? That's what Cap and Bucky do best. Work together. Do you live in this neighborhood?"

The boy looked at him again, tiny fingers twisting in Bucky's jacket sleeve fretfully. "I'm not supposed to tell strangers where I live."

Fair enough, but deeply unhelpful. "You know me," Bucky cajoled. "I'm Bucky. I'm Captain America's best friend right? If you want, I can call him and you can tell him where you live." And wouldn't Sam love that. Bucky using a lost kid as an excuse to call. But desperate times and all that.

The boy's eyes alit for a split second before his whole face shuttered in embarrassment. "No! I don't want Captain America to know I'm lost." He let go of Bucky's sleeve only long enough for it to unwind so he could twist it in the other direction. "I live on Oak Drive. But we weren't anywhere near my house."

"Well, do you know where you last saw your Bucky?" Bucky asked. "This is Magnolia Lane.

Captain America's lips trembled. "No. There was a big Frankenstein in the yard."

Bucky had not seen a big Frankenstein yet this evening. "Hey, buddy, can I see your shield for a second?" he asked.

It was hurriedly handed off and Bucky checked down the back of it and across the straps until he found a piece of masking tape with a sharpie'd phone number on it. He grinned, pleased with himself. Sarah had done the same thing a few years ago when AJ had been Sam.

"Is this your mom's number?" he asked, looking up at the boy, whose eyes went wide.

"Oh! Yeah!"

"Is she with your friend?"

"Yeah! Can you call her?"

Bucky could do that. "C'mere, little bird," he said, holding his arm out so he could lift the boy when he stood and hold him on his hip. "You can have this back," he added, handing off the shield. "Go ahead and tell me what that number is." He pulled out his phone and typed in the number as Cap read it off to him.

The line barely rang once before a worried voice answered, "Andre?"

"Uh," Bucky said unhelpfully. "Is your name Andre?" he asked the Captain America pinching the corner of his jacket collar now. The boy nodded. "Yeah, this is Bucky Barnes. I've got your Captain Andre," Bucky said. "He was helping me cross the road. Real Captain America stuff. Helping an old guy out. Can I return the favor and help him back to you? We're at Magnolia and Deer Ridge."

The mother on the other end of the line told Bucky where she was without nearly as much babbling as Bucky had provided. They were only one street over from each other. Bucky let himself be thankful for that, especially when Andre started to explain to Bucky why he was Captain America and his friend, Dylan, was Bucky. It did not seem to matter that it was Bucky holding him when it came time to explain that Andre was the better action star, but don't tell Dylan. Also Dylan had blue eyes.

"Dre?!" someone called before Bucky had spotted a worried mom. Then yet another little guy was trying to take Bucky off of his feet by way of his knees.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Bucky cried, putting a hand down to slow down the racing kid. He let himself glance over the Winter Soldier costume. It had had the silver arm, but someone had gone in and tried to recolor it. Which was kind of cute. "I'm gonna drop Cap. His wings are faulty right now."

The tiny Winter Soldier stared up at him, a hard set to his jaw that was kind of familiar. He could understand how he got relegated to playing Bucky. "Don't. Are you okay?" Dylan asked.

Bucky almost responded, but Andre, reasonably, beat him to it. "Yeah. I found another Bucky," he said. He let go of Bucky's collar and hopped out of Bucky's hold when he was close enough to the ground as Bucky squatted down again.

Dylan put his hand on Andre's shoulder solemnly, then they tucked into a half hug that quickly turned into a brawl when Dylan tried to snatch the shield away.

Bucky kept half an eye on them, ready to pull them back from the street, even though it seemed like this street had been blocked off for traffic. When a woman hurried over, he felt some of his anxiety bleed out of his shoulders, but a new wave of social anxiety took its place.

"Thank you!" she sighed as she caught up to the boys and stood a few steps from Bucky. She was younger than he was expecting and dressed like a 50s ad. He could see Andre's features in her face plainly. She took a second to look over him and her eyebrows rose a little. "Oh, wow, you're actually Bucky Barnes. I thought you meant you were dressed up."

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. He recognized me, so I guess I was safe enough to ask for help."

"Yeah. It's kind of weird to be able to tell your kids they can ask superheroes for help if they need. Got any sugar I can borrow, neighbor?" she joked, then cringed at herself. "Is, uh, Cap around?"

"Oh, uh, no," Bucky admitted, cheeks reddening. People still expected them to be connected at the hip, even though they were never in the house together. They were never together at all anymore. "He's with his family down south."

"Why aren't you too then?" she asked.

Bucky's cheeks warmed even more. He could feel it scorching down to the bone. "Well it's his family, y'know. And I had to work, so. "

The woman's brows knit towards each other a little. She looked over at the boys still roughhousing with the plastic shield. "You know, they'd call each other family," she said slowly, measuring her words. "Those two are such a handful. They'd rather be in trouble together than out of trouble alone. They get antsy if they can't see each other."

Bucky snorted. "Yeah, I know how that goes."

She shrugged. "I'm just saying, I can guarantee Dre was more concerned with getting back to Dylan than to me."

"Well, Cap shouldn't be without his Bucky," Bucky said before the words actually sank in. The blush erupted into flames. He needed to go climb a tree and sit in it for a few days.

"Yeah," she agreed with a grin. "I think that's right. Boys!" she called. The roughhousing calmed and they both turned to look at her expectantly. More candy imminent in their future. "Would you mind a picture?" she asked Bucky.

"No," Bucky said quickly. "I love taking pictures with celebrities," he said louder for the boys to hear.

They beamed at each other, ran over in a race, and attached to his knees again.

Once the pictures were taken care of--Bucky even asked for one on his phone--he retreated from the thick of the party, towards a house with all of its lights cut and the only decorations ghosts drifting in the breeze on invisible strings. He pulled out his phone, faced the tree trunk, and dialed Sam's number.

He wasn't exactly surprised when Sam didn't answer. Kind of disappointed. Kind of relieved. When the answering machine picked up, he took in a shaky breath and said, "Hey, Sammy, it's Buck," exactly the way he knew Sam would make fun of him for. What else is the Caller ID for, Buck? "I just wanted to say I miss you. Like, so much. I don't... I don't wanna be doing this without you. I kind of hate it without you, actually. I've always hated it. You know that. But with you, it means something. I felt like I was doing the right thing if you were next to me. But now I don't have that and it feels bad. Everything is bad and wrong and I just miss you so much. God, it's so obvious Buckys shouldn't be without their Caps and I'm the first example of that. The worst example. I don't even wanna watch scary mov--"

The machine cut him off and he dialed Sam's number again instantly. It went to voicemail again, but it rang all the way through, so it's not likely Sam was ignoring him. It was much more likely he'd turned the noise off on his phone to focus on the boys.

"How come spam calls can leave ten minute voicemails but I barely get two minutes, huh?" he asked Sam's voicemail when it clicked through. "Listen, I just want to say it again. I miss you. And when you feel up for it, call me back. Maybe I can dig myself out of this one. I just need to come home to you again. Love you. I mean...shit. Just. Whatever. Miss you, Sam."

Bucky really considered climbing the tree. But it wasn't his tree. He beelined back for his house (there was a giant Frankenstein on Moss Lane that he had to pass again). He'd never been so happy to close the door and block out most of the noise of the neighborhood.

By the time he was dragging himself into bed half an hour later, a text buzzed in. He opened it as he plugged in his phone. It was a picture of Sam, surrounded by about as many Captains America as Bucky had seen, and a fair few Winter Soldiers too.

You're grumpy at every age, btw.

Okay, yeah, I miss you too.

You in DC? I'll see you soon.

Like tomorrow.

Love you too, old man.

Bucky let out a long breath and dropped himself across the bed. Finally, whoever he had been pretending to be fell off of him, like a bad mask. Bucky Barnes settled back into his bones.

How'd the werewolf turn out? What did AJ decide to do this year? He hadn't picked last time I called.

Hey, when you get home, do you wanna call? We can watch that new witch demon haunted house movie on Netflix together.

And maybe he did thrill when a text came in almost immediately. And he answered immediately again.

"Trick or treat?" Sam asked later that night, both of them half asleep on their respective couches, another shitty horror movie starting up on the autoplay.

"Treat," Bucky answered into the throw pillow Sam had bought.

"I still miss you."

"What was the trick?"

"I dunno. Making you fall asleep finally. What would your trick be?"

"Probably making you fall in love with me."

"I dunno, Buck. Seems like a lot of people dig us being together. Can't be such a bad idea."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "Buckys belong with their Cap. I dunno how I messed that one up so damn bad."

"Yeah, I think Cap needs his Bucky too," Sam laughed.

"Trick or treat, Sam?"

"Treat."

"I love you."

And if Sam answered, Bucky didn't hear it as he fell asleep easy to the sound of Sam's breathing.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sbhalloween2024 #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #writing

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awkward-walking-potato · 3 months ago

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PROMPT IDEA? (not x-man x wolverine but it can be if you’d like)

um a y/n that’s part werewolf and logan and y/n share comfort after her first transformation? (it hurt a lot lol)

like i said, can be with another mutant if u don’t want to write that :3

The moon hung heavy in the night sky, a silver orb casting its pale light over the sprawling woods surrounding Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The mansion was a beacon of safety and learning for so many, but for me, it was a place of constant struggle—struggling to keep the beast within me at bay.

My mutation was a curse as much as it was a gift. While others had powers that could be controlled with practice, mine was tied to something primal, something that ripped through my body with agonizing force every time the full moon rose. Half-werewolf, half-human, I walked the line between both worlds, never fully belonging to either.

Professor Charles Xavier had been patient with me, trying to teach me techniques to manage the transformations, but no amount of mental exercises or meditation could change the fact that every time I shifted, it felt like my entire body was being torn apart. The bones twisted, broke, and reformed, stretching my skin until it felt like it might split at the seams. Every night, I dreaded the transformation, knowing the pain that awaited me.

Tonight, I couldn’t stay in the mansion. I didn’t want the others to hear me scream, to see the raw, feral side of me that emerged when the change took hold. So, I fled to the woods, where the only witnesses would be the trees and the cold wind.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I stumbled through the underbrush, the telltale ache beginning to settle into my bones. The transformation was coming, and there was no stopping it. I fell to my knees, clutching my sides as the first wave of pain hit me, a white-hot agony that stole the breath from my lungs.

The sound of bones breaking filled the air, a sickening crack that echoed through the trees. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, trying to muffle the scream that clawed its way up my throat. My hands dug into the earth, fingers curling into the dirt as my body convulsed, the beast within me demanding to be set free.

It felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes, but eventually, the pain subsided, leaving me panting and trembling on the forest floor. My mind was a haze of exhaustion and lingering torment, my body aching from the force of the transformation. I could feel the roughness of fur on my skin, the sharpness of claws where my hands used to be.

But the worst part was the aftermath, the moment when the beast retreated and left me in its wake—broken, naked, and utterly vulnerable. The transformation reversed just as painfully as it began, my bones snapping back into place, muscles tearing and healing all at once. By the time it was over, I was left curled up on the cold ground, shivering and crying from the overwhelming pain and exhaustion.

I didn’t know how long I lay there, tears streaking down my face, my body too weak to move. All I could think about was how much I wanted it to stop—how I wanted to be free of this curse that ripped me apart every time the moon rose.

That’s when I heard him.

The snap of a twig underfoot made me freeze, my heart lurching in my chest. I was too tired to run, too broken to fight, but when I turned my head to see who—or what—was approaching, my fear was replaced by something else. Recognition.

Logan stepped out of the shadows, his usual stoic expression softened by something I couldn’t quite place. He didn’t say anything at first, just took in the sight of me—shivering, naked, and covered in dirt and dried blood. His eyes, usually so hard and guarded, softened with an understanding that pierced through my haze of pain.

“Come on,” he said quietly, kneeling beside me. He shrugged off his jacket, pulling his shirt over his head and handing it to me without a word. The night air was cold, and the warmth of his shirt was a small comfort as I pulled it over my head, the fabric soft against my aching skin.

I tried to speak, to explain, but the words caught in my throat, and all I could manage was a choked sob. Logan’s hand found my shoulder, his touch gentle, but grounding, and he stayed there, waiting until the worst of my trembling had subsided.

“I get it,” he said after a long moment, his voice low and rough. “I know what it’s like to have your body ripped apart, to feel like you’re losing yourself every time the change comes. It ain’t easy.”

I looked up at him, the tears still falling, but something in his words cut through the despair that had settled in my chest. Logan wasn’t one to offer comfort lightly, but there was a sincerity in his tone that told me he understood—maybe better than anyone else could.

“It hurts,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “It hurts so much, and I can’t… I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Logan’s grip on my shoulder tightened just a fraction, enough to let me know he was still there, still with me. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said. “Takes guts to keep goin’ through this, to keep fightin’. But you ain’t gotta do it alone.”

I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel completely alone in my struggle. Logan’s presence was a steadying force, something to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“Come on,” he said again, helping me to my feet. My legs were shaky, barely able to hold me up, but Logan’s arm around my waist kept me steady. “Let’s get you back to the mansion. You need rest.”

I nodded, too exhausted to argue, and leaned into him as we made our way through the woods. Each step was painful, but with Logan beside me, the weight of the transformation didn’t feel quite as heavy. He kept a steady pace, never rushing me, his presence a quiet reassurance that I wasn’t alone in this.

By the time we reached the edge of the woods, I was half-asleep, the adrenaline from the transformation wearing off and leaving me drained. Logan carried most of my weight, his arm firm around me, and when I stumbled, he caught me without hesitation.

As we approached the mansion, I felt a flicker of embarrassment—of shame—at being seen like this, so weak and vulnerable. But Logan’s grip on me never wavered, and when I looked up at him, there was no judgment in his eyes, only that same understanding that had been there from the start.

“You’re gonna get through this,” he said quietly, his voice rough but steady. “It ain’t gonna be easy, but you will. And I’ll be here when you need me.”

I didn’t have the strength to respond, but the warmth in my chest was answer enough. Logan was right—I wasn’t alone in this. And with him by my side, I knew I had the strength to keep fighting, no matter how hard it got.

Together, we made our way back into the mansion, leaving the darkness of the woods behind us. And for the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope.

#marvel imagine #x men imagine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine one shot #wolverine #deadpool imagine

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writememysticfalls · 1 month ago

Text

Toxic | Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: "I'm not a good man," Klaus whispered. "You should run away from me, as fast as you can."

Being Klaus's girlfriend feels amazing... until he loses his temper.

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Hot, angsty, Toxic relationship

Word Count: <1k

You were sat on the couch in the Mikaelson residence, gnawing at your fingernails. It was an old habit that only came back when you were extremely stressed.

You were waiting for your boyfriend Klaus to return home. He had entrusted you to look after his one year old daughter Hope whilst he was gone.

Klaus walked through the door. He pulled off his jacket and flung it onto the sofa.

"Hello, love," he said, smiling. "How was your day? I hope my little monster didn't give you too much trouble."

Klaus stood behind the couch where you were sitting. He leant down and kissed your cheek. His lips were soft, and his stubble tickled your skin pleasantly.

Klaus's lips roamed further down towards your neck, but you pushed him off.

"Sit down, Klaus. I need to tell you something."

Klaus's brow quirked up, but he obeyed, sitting beside you on the couch.

"Everything alright, love? You're shaking."

You bit your lip. "Okay, here goes. First thing's first - she's totally fine, completely healthy, snoozing away in her cot."

Klaus's brow went up. "Okay…"

You drew in a shaky breath. "But… and don't be mad, but… I left Hope alone for a minute and she knocked a glass off the table and cut her hand open."

Klaus's face fell. His features went from mildly confused to deadly serious in a second. His dark blue eyes bore into yours.

"What?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "You let Hope get hurt?"

"I'm so sorry, Klaus. I know it's the first time you've left her alone with me, and I really wanted to do a good job but… accidents happen. She's fine now, vampire healing and all!"

Klaus was eerily still.

You laughed nervously. "There was blood all over the carpet, but I've sent it to the dry cleaners."

Suddenly, Klaus reached forward and gripped your throat with his hand. He squeezed your neck tight, cutting off your breath.

"How dare you be so… nonchalant about harming my daughter!" he growled. Klaus's eyes turned an eerie luminescent yellow.

"Can't… breathe!" You gasped. You clawed at his hands around your throat, but Klaus’s vice like grip was unrelenting. Black spots filled your vision.

Klaus snarled, bearing sharp werewolf teeth. But then he saw the tears wetting your cheeks, and he snapped out of it. His eyes turned back to their natural blue, and he loosened his grip on your throat.

You jumped off the couch away from him, rubbing your neck.

"I said I'm sorry, okay?" You said, between fits of coughs.

"I leave you alone for one day with her and this is what happens?" Klaus hissed. "You're lucky it's me you told and not Hope's mother, because Hayley would have removed your head from your body by now!"

You wiped your tears. "I promise it'll never happen again."

Klaus stood up, he came towards you so that you were face to face. You tried your hardest not to shy away from his thunderous gaze.

Klaus brought his hand to your cheek. You flinched, unsure of what he would do. But Klaus just swiped your tears off your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your boyfriend was so wild… so unpredictable. It was one of the things you found so irresistible about him. He made you feel alive.

Klaus's dark gaze fell on your lips, then skirted lower, across your neck, to your chest. You knew he could hear your heart accelerate.

"I'm not a good man," Klaus whispered. "You should run away from me, as fast as you can."

"Don't tell me what to do," you murmured. Your eyes slipped shut as Klaus ran his hand over the fresh bruises on your neck. He kissed your jaw solemnly.

"You must know something, Y/n…" Klaus said, as he unbuttoned the top two buttons of your thin white shirt.

"What?" You whispered, shuddering at his touch.

Klaus slid his hand under your shirt and placed his palm on your left breast, right over your heart.

"When I give you Hope, my heart is in your hands," Klaus said. "I hope I have not made a mistake in entrusting you with this responsibility."

Klaus's unsaid threat hung in the air. He could have your heart out in seconds.

You could feel the coarse skin of Klaus's palm on your chest. You could smell his scent, see his muscled shoulders rise and fall as he panted.

You should be scared, but right now, all you felt was one emotion, crippling and insatiable.

Desire.

You sprung up on your tiptoes and smashed your mouth against Klaus's, kissing him hard. Klaus grunted with surprise. Then, he pushed you against the wall. You kissed each other, opened mouthed and dirty.

Klaus's hand slipped under your bra as he squeezed your breast. The other hand gripped your waist, tight.

As you made out with Klaus against the wall, you opened your eyes, searching. You saw a silver blade resting on an ornate holder on the cabinet beside you.

You let Klaus kiss your neck as you stealthily reached your hand out to grasp the knife.

You took hold of the knife and plunged it into Klaus's side. You heard the squelching of flesh.

Klaus yelled and staggered backwards, gripping his side. You knew a stab with a metal knife wouldn't kill an Original, but that was not your intention.

"What was that for?" Klaus growled. He winced as he pulled the blade out of his waist. He dropped the bloodied knife onto the floor.

"Never manhandle me again, Klaus." You hissed. "I may be a human, but I can give as good as I can get. I said I'm sorry about Hope, so you need to grow up and accept my apology."

Klaus looked at you, hair falling wildly around your face, cheeks flushed dark, eyes glinting.

He smiled, dimples appearing on his stubbled cheeks. "I'm impressed, Y/n. I didn't know if you were fit to be my queen, but now I am sure."

You folded your arms, scowling.

Klaus stepped towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We all make mistakes. I'll admit, ever since Hope learnt how to crawl, I may have lost her more than once."

You sighed.

Klaus closed the gap between you. He wrapped his arms around you in a hug that was surprisingly tender.

"I am sorry for hurting you, Y/n. You have my word that I will not lay a finger on you ever again." He leant down to your ear. "Unless you beg for it."

Your breath hitched.

Klaus smirked. He put one hand around your waist and lifted you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling. Klaus held your entire body weight in one arm.

He pecked your lips. "Let me check on the little one and then I'm all yours, my darling."

You smiled. "I can think of nothing better. "

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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