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#fic: who howls my name
mikecrewsteacup · 11 months
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will everyone forgive me if i admit the chapter count on "who howls my name" is a lie just in case i ever ended up axing chapter ideas. also will you all forgive me if i say it'll probably be around 130k. remember when i was first drafting this and i thought it would be done in 30k, and then tentatively said 'well maybe 70...'
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kitten4sannie · 10 days
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gold rush
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pairing: cowboy husband! san x wife! reader
genre: western au, smut
summary: san strikes gold, in more ways than one.
w.c: 1.2k
warnings: dom! san, sub? reader, sannie’s got a big cawk, cowboy themed pet names, one spank, praise, brief name calling, dirty talk (this man is out of pocket), tit play (reader also gives san a titty squeeze for obv reasons), lactation kink (don’t you look at me!!!!), unprotected outdoor sex (doggy, lotus position), brief hair pulling, finger sucking, breeding kink, impregnation kink, creampies
a/n: yes i just posted a whole ass fic yesterday b-but the voices…. the voicesssssss _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): AND NO I’M NOT OKAY. JUST LOOK AT HIM. grrrr ruff bark BARK anyways this is pure sannie brainrot so don’t expect much else fhwhwh that being said enjoyyy~~~
song recs: blind by ateez - slow down by chase atlantic - till the wheels fall off by cxloe
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“Push back on it, darlin’, just like that,” San groaned from behind you, one hand clutching the top of his leather Stetson hat, using the other to spread you wide open, admiring the way your soaked cunt swallowed up his thick, veiny length. He roughly smacked his calloused hand into the side of your ass, humming at the way it bounced. “Show me just how much of a whore you are for a rich man’s cock.”
“F-fuck, Sannie…” Your scratched-up knees began to grow weak underneath you, especially after being pounded into your ravenous husband for who knows how long, just knowing that he couldn’t keep his filthy hands off of you once you both had struck gold just a little while ago, clearly more concerned with painting your insides white, than with collecting the gold up and selling it off for a pretty penny.
“That can wait, sweetheart,” he had told you sometime earlier, his hands already slipping underneath your skirt, hiking it up to expose your pretty pussy, and using his teeth to undo the strings of your top. “Need you now,” he demanded, tugging your top down with the aid of his canines, unable to keep himself from running his tongue back and forth over your exposed tits, biting and sucking on them as much as he could, streaks of your milk dribbling down his chin to his chiseled chest, all the while he groaned and growled onto your slick skin like a ravenous wolf.
San suddenly wrapped his fingers around your hair at the base of your head, creating a makeshift ponytail, just in time for him to tug on it, forcing your back to arch, forcing even more of his cock inside you each time he rammed forward into you. “Don’t think ya’ heard me, darlin’,” he whispered breathily into your ear, hunching over your body so that his warm chest was pressed heavily into your bare back, reaching around to grasp your chin, turning it in his direction until your hazy, lust-filled eyes met his.
“It’s hard to hear you when you’re stirring up my guts, honey,” you replied in between shaky breaths, kissing the tip of his thumb when it slid over your bottom lip. “What’d you need to tell me?”
“Sweet thing, won’t you be a good wife and fuck yourself stupid on my cock?” He pressed a lingering kiss onto your flushed cheek, his middle and ring finger starting to slip into your open mouth, his wedding band cold against your hot tongue. “Can you do that for me? Can you remind me why I put a baby in you, darlin’?”
You couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan, sucking softly on your husband’s fingers, clawing at the hand sewn quilt underneath you. Just like your wedding night, you allowed your overwhelming love and lust to overtake you, driving yourself back onto his cock, timing your movements with his brutal thrusts, until you were both yelling and howling in pleasure like a couple wild animals.
“Oh, that’s it, that’s it, baby, fuck–” San growled through gritted teeth, his jaw tensing, wrapping his thick forearms around your middle just as he began to shudder. He held you tightly, forcing you to stay put, while he steadily pumped his load into your cunt, groaning loudly all the while. “Your sweet cunt’s milking me dry, darlin’. There wont be any left to breed you with when we get back to the cabin, if you keep this up…”
Your own release had splashed onto San’s cock and the soft cotton material below you, your knees wobbling, your arms beginning to feel like jelly. Your head and cunt were pulsing, but it still wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Before San knew it, you had jumped into his lap, exploring his broad upper body with your hands, running them up and down his chest, squeezing into his pecs just enough to draw a low whine from your husband’s lips, your fingers idly playing with the fringe that hung from his black leather vest.
“What’s this, hm?” San chuckled lowly, giving you a sideways smile, his dimples appearing. “Baby still hasn’t had enough? Does that pretty pussy of yours need more milk?”
You nodded your head eagerly, already lowering yourself down onto his hardened length inch by inch, whimpering at the sensation of being stretched out so incredibly wide by your husband’s oversized cock. “Fuck me, Sannie, please, need you so bad,” you voiced with clear desperation, hooking one of your arms around his neck, the other holding onto his leather hat.
“I will, darlin’…” San grabbed onto your thighs, kneading his palms into them like he was rolling out dough, slowly moving up to your hips. “Just need you to ride me first.” When you began to drive yourself down onto his cock, San nodded his head in approval, running his hands up your abdomen to your tits, leaning his head down, his small tongue already slipping out past his pink lips to lap at them. “Look at you, baby, riding my cock like a good little cowgirl.”
“Just for you, just for you, Sannie,” you whined in between gasps for air, pushing his Stetson hat off so that you could slip your fingers directly into his shaggy raven hair, bringing his face further into your chest. You angled your head up to gaze at the moon with teary eyes, feeling your husband’s cock throb heavily against your pulsing walls, listening to the noisy sounds of him slurping up the milk that you produced for him, shuddering at the sensation of his tongue and teeth on your puffy nipples.
San finally brought himself out of the fuzzy headspace he was in, licking the remaining milkiness away from his lips, before he clutched your face on either side, pressing his forehead to yours, his sweaty bangs sticking to your skin. “You want it inside, darlin’?”
“Inside.” Your gaze sharpened, quickly dropping yourself down onto San’s cock over and over, your fingers tugging at the choppy hair near his neckline, not relenting until he let out a series of broken moans. “Show me how much of a whore you are for a rich woman’s cunt,” you sighed out against his parted lips, clenching onto your husband’s twitching cock, wrapped tightly around him, like a serpent would be with its prey.
“Darlin’….!” the cash-rich cowboy cried out, reaching down to cement his hands around your waist, beads of sweat dripping off of his sharp jaw, sliding over and in between his pronounced pecs. Despite the instinctual urge to jackhammer his load into you, he instead found himself slowly rolling his hips up into you, releasing rope after rope of cum from his pulsing cock, emptying it into your willing womb. “M’ filling you up so much, fuck, gonna knock you up again, sweetheart.”
“Oh, Sannie…” Shuddering from your own release, your thighs trembling profusely around San’s slim waist, you pressed your lips onto his, exchanging a few gentle, loving kisses until your tingling bodies and minds slowly began to come down from their highs.
San pouted slightly, his lower lip jutting out, rubbing your tummy in small, gentle circles. “What if we really do end up having another kid?”
“Would that be so bad, San?” You pressed your forehead against his, humming softly, enjoying your dear husband’s company, the crackling campfire beside the both of you highlighting your rosy, love-struck faces with a warm, inviting glow, one that was reminiscent of the rising sun. “We struck gold, after all.”
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Surprise! We're Making Love
6.8k words
this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.
this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy
Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.
Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.
“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.
“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”
You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.
Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.
Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.
“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”
He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.
“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.
“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”
You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.
“Fine, turn around.”
Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.
“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”
Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.
He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.
What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.
“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.
“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”
Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”
You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”
And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.
Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.
Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.
“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.
“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”
Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.
“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”
Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.
He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.
Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.
But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.
He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.
He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.
“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 
He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.
“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.
“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.
“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.
“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.
“Help?”
“Right.”
You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.
“What exactly are you to help me with?”
“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.
You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”
Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.
Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.
All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.
He was fucking good in bed.
So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.
Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.
Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.
He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.
“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.
“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”
You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.
Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.
He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.
“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.
He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”
You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”
Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”
You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.
“Are we friends now?”
“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.
“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.
“Blood status, really L/N?”
You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”
It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.
“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”
“Perhaps we can be the first.”
“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”
Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”
And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.
“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”
“Likewise.”
And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.
There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.
Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.
“Let him go.” You said simply.
Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.
“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.
Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.
“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.
“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.
Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.
“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.
Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.
“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.
Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.
His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.
He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.
“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.
“This way.”
“L/N.”
“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.
Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.
“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.
“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.
“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 
“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”
Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 
Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.
“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 
“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?
Did he want you to stop?
“No.” He admitted.
Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.
He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.
“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.
“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”
And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 
“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.
“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 
He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.
“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”
You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 
“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”
“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
“Working on it.”
You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.
“Cum for me, L/N.”
“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.
“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.
You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 
“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.
Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.
“You have no idea.”
And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 
Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.
Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.
The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 
“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.
“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.
“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”
Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.
Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.
“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.
“Put me down!” You shouted.
“No.” 
“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 
“You’re fine, L/N.”
You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.
“Stop it.”
“Put me down!”
“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.
“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.
“That’s alright.”
You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 
Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 
This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 
He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 
That's what he’d tell himself for now.
It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.
“Stop me.”
“You stopped me first.”
You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 
“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.
Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.
“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”
“Okay.” He offered readily.
“I want it to stop.”
“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to forget.”
“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”
And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.
Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 
You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 
“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.
You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 
“I’m right here.”
And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.
You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 
You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.
Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.
“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 
You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.
“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”
This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.
Not then, at least.
“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”
He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 
So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.
But maybe…
Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.
Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.
Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 
Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.
Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.
Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.
And fuck.
He needed you.
Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.
One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.
He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 
This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.
You were friends.
You were friends who helped each other.
You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 
You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.
You were friends.
That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.
And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.
It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 
It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 
It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 
It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 
It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.
It ached for you to stay.
He wanted you to stay.
But you guys were friends.
And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 
So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.
He ached for you.
And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.
He didn’t just ache for you.
He yearned for you.
He loved you.
He was in love with you.
And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 
He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 
He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.
There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 
And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.
The jig was up.
He had been outed. 
Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 
You knew.
Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.
This was it, it was all going to be over.
He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 
Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 
He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.
He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.
Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.
He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.
He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 
That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.
You never asked for it.
You never offered it.
He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 
He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.
What a fucking mess.
He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.
He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.
“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.
“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”
Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.
He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?
You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.
“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.
“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”
He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.
He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.
He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.
“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 
Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.
You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”
“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.
“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.
“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.
“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.
“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.
But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?
“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.
“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.
“Anything.” He whispered.
I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.
I’m already all yours.
“I need to pee.” You said plainly.
Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.
“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”
Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.
“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).
“Always.”
And he kept that promise.
2K notes · View notes
hs-is-loml · 2 years
Text
Defending. (x.t)
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PART ONE OF TWO
Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: wednesday tells you about her suspicions about xavier but you come to his defense and are determined to find proof to prove her wrong
Warnings: mentions of making a small cut, very little like a drop of blood, hydes? (those ugly mfs) NOT PROOFREAD
a/n: this is going to be in two parts, but part two will be posted late 12/1 or early 12/2 depending on when i finish writing it! it's basically a smut fic for part two which is why i decided to split it up in case people are not comfortable with it!
masterlist - part two
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“Now, this is too far,” you said to Wednesday as she told you about her suspicions about Xavier being the monster.
“All the evidence points to him.”
 “Wednesday, it’s not him.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re in a relationship with him,” the girl argued back with her.
“No shit, Wednesday. I know him enough to know he’s not. You think I wouldn’t notice by now if he were going around town killing people?”
“You’re letting this blind your judgment,” Wednesday stated. 
“NEWS FLASH WEDNESDAY HE’S NOT THE HYDE! WOULD IT KILL YOU THINK FOR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?!” you yelled at the girl who just raised her eyebrows back at you.
“What are you going to do when you find out he is?”
“Nothing,” you answered softly you could feel a headache coming from yelling, “There’s nothing to find out.” You walked back inside from the balcony and exited the room before you felt like destroying anything, and Enid would get mad at the mess later.
You wandered around the school before you came upon the statute of Edgar Allen Poe. You sat down near the statute wanting to clear your mind for a second before you looked up and realized the mark beneath the book he was holding. You tried to recall what your mom would always tell you as a kid about the Nightshade Society. 
“He was notorious for his riddles. For it was not one alone, but each line was individual. One to remember is, ‘The answer will give a sharp cracking sound,’ that will help you once you find it,” was something she always mentioned when she talked about Nevermore. 
“A sharp cracking sound,” you repeated as you stood from your spot and it clicked, or more so snapped into place. You raised your right arm and snapped two times. “Thank you, Nightshade Society.”
You walked down the staircase into the dimly lit library. The portraits that hung on the wall of old members caught your eye as you looked about the room. At the end of the portraits you find your parents, they tell you to make a name for yourself, but how could you live up to them? 
“You put that bag over my head, I will choke you with that very rope in your hands,” you warned the people who stood behind you as you looked for your mom’s diary knowing that would be the only thing you could find answers in. “You should know to not mess with a witch with heightened senses.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n, we were just trying to have fun,” Kent joked causing the other to mutter in agreement. 
“I WASN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING I SWEAR,” Xavier yelped once he notice it was you and threw the bag in his hands to Ajax.
“Someone’s in the dog house tonight…” Yoko teased. Kent and a couple of the others gave a couple howls joining in the joke.
“You know Xavier you could’ve told me about this,” you said as you finally found your mother’s diary. 
“Babe, if I could, I would’ve-”
“He’s sworn to secrecy,” Bianca pointed out as she gave you a dirty look when you walked to a desk with the diary in your arms.
You pulled it out to see she sealed it with magic though not any kind of magic, blood magic. “My family was a part of the Nightshades long before you, although I thought it to be disbanded.”
“Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died,” Xavier explained which answered your thoughts as he walked up to you noticing that you were looking for something. 
“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves,” Yoko added on. 
“What are you looking for anyways?” Xavier questioned you.
“If you’re trying to open your mom’s diary, you can’t,” Bianca told you cockingly. 
“Maybe you can’t,” you retorted just when you noticed a letter opener sitting at the corner of the table. 
You reached over and grabbed it seeing that it had a sharp edge. You noticed from your peripheral vision that the group was crowding around you to see what you were doing. Xavier was right next to you with his attention on the knife you held in your hand. You lifted your right hand over the book and took the knife to your palm just before it touched your skin you heard shouts from around the room.
“Y/N!”
“Woah, girl, no need to prove a point.”
“No need for bloodshed-”
“What are you doing?!”
“No, no, no, no, absolutely not,” you heard Xavier say as he tried to grab for the knife, but it was too late. “Oh my god, only you. Literally, you’re the only one who would do this.”
You sliced the inside of your palm and allowed for the knife to drop down onto the table as you felt the sting in your palm. You closed your fist and put it directly above the lock on the book. You felt the blood sweep down near the bottom of your fist before it dropped down into the lock. 
“Blood magic?” Yoko asked in amazement when she saw the lock unlatch and you opened to the front page that held your mom’s portrait along with her signature. 
“Only the very best for mother dearest,” you remark sarcastically.
“That explains a lot!” Kent said from behind as Xavier looked around for a first aid kit. “Bianca was trying to open that months ago and nothing would work!” right as the words left his mouth, Bianca smacked him in the back of the head causing him to groan in pain, “Well, ow.”
When Xavier finally found a first aid kit that looked like it could be decades old, he went back to your side and held out his palm to you. Putting your sliced palm in his hand without him even having to ask you. 
“I couldn’t find any actual alcohol to disinfect it, so vodka will have to do,” he unscrewed the bottle with one hand and looked back into your eyes before you gave him a slight nod telling him it was okay for him to do it. “This might sting.”
“Oh shit, I can’t watch,” Ajax gagged as the vodka was poured onto your palm and the blood washed away with it. 
“Makes the both of us,” another member said.
“Stop being babies, people would think you’re the one with the cut palm,” you told them off as taking in the pain with no reaction. “At least I have a hot doctor patching me up,” you smirked.
“Only for you,” Xavier muttered as he focused on wrapping the bandage around your hand. At this point, almost all the members already left not wanting to see what you and Xavier get up to.
“Thanks, babe,” giving him a kiss on the cheek before returning your attention back to your mother’s diary. 
“What was so important that you have to look into your mom’s diary?” he asked you. “You’re looking for answers, but for what?”
“Any information about hydes.”
“That’s the monster, Wednesday was talking about right?”
“The same one she believes you to be, yes.” you look up from the diary to see his confused expression.
“Wait, me?” he wondered aloud.
“I told her it wasn’t you though, but that girl is the most stubborn person I have ever met,” you informed him taking one of his hands in your non-injured one to give it a tight squeeze in reassurance. “You have to be careful, I know you’re not the Hyde, but she is going to do everything she can to prove her point.”
“I love you.” he blurted out to you. “You could’ve easily believed her, but you didn’t.”
“I know you, Xavier. There’s no damn way in hell, I’m going to let you be falsely accused for something you so obviously are not,” you stated. “And, I love you, that’s why I’m trying to see if my mother knew anything about Hydes during her time here,” you smiled at him.
You turned to put the diary back onto the desk as you hurriedly flipped through the pages scanning for any kind of information on the damn monster. You were about to turn to another page just before you noticed a name you’ve heard of before. Francois Sylvanne. Xavier moved to stand behind you leaning over your shoulder to read the diary as well. He placed his hands on your hips to steady himself causing you to lean back into him.
“Seems like Wednesday’s little boy toy just got way more interesting,” you pointed to the name on the page for Xavier to read. 
“Who is she?”
“His mother. The same one he goes to therapy for, I heard she died a while back, and apparently the sheriff isn’t only bad at his job but bad at parenting too,” you explained as you read more of your mom’s writing.
There’s something about this girl. She keeps to herself. Quiet. Distance. Truly an Outcast. I have a feeling something is going on with her or at least something will. I’m going to keep a close eye on her, but she is graduating this year.
“Weird, your mom always has good intuition, I wonder if she’s right about this one too,” Xavier said after he read your mother’s entry. 
You flipped through more pages of the book and found nothing. You looked at every line on the pages, and your mother never mentioned her once again. It wasn’t until you got to the last page of the diary to see a quite messier version of your mother’s writing.
THAT GIRL IS A HYDE. FRANCOIS IS A HYDE. HIDDEN AWAY WITH A NORMIE IN THE TOWN. 
“No,” you gaped as you turned to see nothing more and reached the end of the book.
“Do you think Tyler’s the Hyde?” he whispered into your ear.
“It’s the only way. It makes sense too,” you claimed, “But the question is why?” 
5K notes · View notes
nothomegal · 4 months
Note
HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!
I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.
Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)
Welp, let's start the story!
"Innocent lamb"
(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)
Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞
Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.
Word count: 4.2k
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The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.
But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.
They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.
Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.
He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.
So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.
At first it was all jokes and gags;
'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'
'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'
'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.
But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.
They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.
That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.
Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.
Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.
The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.
Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.
Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?
What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-
A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.
They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.
The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.
—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.
—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.
—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—
—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.
—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.
The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.
—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—
Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.
For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.
(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.
Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.
They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…
—“WATCH OUT!”—
(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.
—“Holy-...”— she mutters.
Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.
They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.
His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.
The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.
The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.
It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?
So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.
Two done! Tree left.
A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.
However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.
A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.
What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.
With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.
They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.
Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.
David is down.
And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-
They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.
They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.
As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.
After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.
—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.
He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.
—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—
Huh? What-
As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.
The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.
They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.
—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.
(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.
Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.
Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-
—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—
They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.
David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.
—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—
As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.
Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.
They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…
The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.
They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.
This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?
(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.
—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.
The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.
Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.
—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—
Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.
The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.
Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.
(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.
Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...
Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.
But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.
Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.
They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.
Feng was caught.
It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...
And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.
He's down... Which means that-
Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.
He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.
(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.
Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.
(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.
It would be just that.
Just this bizarre staring contest.
...Right?
WRONG.
The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.
Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.
And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.
Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.
It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!
—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—
(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.
They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.
But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.
The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.
His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?
(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.
Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?
The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.
A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...
The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.
Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.
But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.
Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.
This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?
(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.
He must keep them...
He wants them...
W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝
As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).
The trial... Is over.
And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.
Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.
To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?
As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.
It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.
And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...
They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.
Poor (Y/N)...
983 notes · View notes
stormhearty · 3 months
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Pairings: Azriel x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Triggers: pregnancy trope, longing, mention of death, thoughts of suicide, blood, baby’s death, open-ended ending
Summary: Hiraeth definition: “homesickness, longing, nostalgia and a wistful desire for something irretrievably lost.” It had been several years since your passing, one that he cursed the Mother and the Gods for. Now he wanders the world, endless and lost, waiting for the day you would whisper in his ears to come home — home to you.
Note: From this request! Thank you @soulsansang (I cannot tag you for the life of me), for sending this request! I fought every urge to connect this to my Seer!Reader fics. The idea of hiraeth fit perfectly with a mourning Azriel; however, I needed something else. Needed an Azriel who was mourning not because of his actions, but due to unforeseen circumstances that fate seemed to have placed him in. I’m sorry for the “pregnancy trope”, I didn’t think I would be writing this one like this. If you do not like that trope, I completely understand and I respect you not reading this. But I do hope you enjoy, and I hope it fills the angst and sadness that you had requested!
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“Azriel~!”
He looked over his shoulder, his name echoing in his ears, as he stepped out of his apartment and into the pouring rain. Dull hazel eyes stared at the gray skies as the rain poured down, relentless and unforgiving.
It had been days since this rain had started, and it seemed as if it would never stop. It was torrent, heavy with the mix of strong that howled through the empty alleyways. Valeris was almost like an abandoned city — its inhabitants were locked indoors due to the storm that shook its walls.
Azriel’s form shuddered, the wetness seeping into his clothes. He barely wore something that would keep him warm in such icy weather — a simple black jacket, a long-sleeved tee hidden underneath, and black jeans. His leather shoes were soaked in the rain as he stepped into another puddle, not caring that the wetness soaked into his feet.
He walked through the deserted city, only a few who braved the torrential storm were running through the streets. Those out looked at the Spymaster with confusion and worry, but none voiced them out loud — he wouldn’t have listened anyway.
He had one destination — and he would make it there — despite the storm.
Stepping across the Sindra River, the cobblestone bridge was overrun by the river below. Waters crashed upon slowly decaying rocks, splashing over the sides and onto the bridge. Traversing it might seem impossible for any normal Fae, but for Azriel, it was easy.
He stepped onto the bridge, not minding how the cold waters of the river splashed onto him. He paused, at the arch of the bridge, leaning over the stoney rail to look at those rapid waters that raced down the riverbend. They crashed and crescented over rocks, splashing against everything and anything that stood in its way — and the downpour only amplified the river’s maelstrom.
Azriel looked into the waters below him, barely making out his reflection in them. He blinked out the water that tricked into his eyes, and when he looked back down into his reflection — instead he found a familiar figure — hair blowing in the raging wind, eyes looking up at him, hand reached out as if to tempt him into those frigid cold waters below him.
It was tempting, to say the least, the call to be submerged into the depths of the river, to feel the icy liquid deep into his skin — and make the river his grave.
He couldn't help it — the image was like a siren with its sailors, tempting them to their end. Leaning across the cobblestone rail, he leaned down — down into the depths of the water. Azriel had every mindset, every want to drown in that very river.
However, he felt his body pause, as if a tiny hand tugged on his shoulder — a child’s laugh echoing in his ears.
His body snapped up, his head whipping over his shoulder, frantically looking around, only to stop. Eyes noticed a fallen blue-violet on the drenched cobblestone. Azriel felt his body go rigid at the flower, remembering what it had meant. He turned around and knelt, shaky hands reaching down to pick up the soaked flower. He felt his eyes prickle with tears as he turned it in his hand, before bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on the petals, standing up and pocketing it.
Dull hues stared at the river below him, noticing his reflection once more — and not the mirage that tempted him to death. A frown tugged on the edge of his blue-tinged lips before making his way across the bridge once more, the call of death barely whispering in his ears.
He turned, his feet bringing him off paved grounds into a mud-soaked one. The mud squished underneath his feet. He weaved through familiar trees, and as he delved further into the forest the canopy above him blocked the gray skies above, the pitter-patter of rain on soil lessening. There, underneath the canopy, Azriel shook his wings out — the rain that had drenched his wings flying off in droplets. He raised a hand, running through soak locks, pushing them back away from his face. He fixed his jacket, dusting off the moisture from its soaked fabric before he continued walking.
Hazel hues saw the familiar clearing, watching as the downpour continued to drench the soil in its never-ending attack. He stood at the edge of the clearing, hues staring up at the sky once more. He silently cursed the Mother and the Gods above for this rain — all he wanted was to see the clear skies for once.
Azriel stepped into the clearing, the rain drenching his clothes once more — not that he minded anyway.
He stepped into the middle of the clearing where a lone headstone stood. A simple one, nothing to extravagant. Azriel felt his heart race in his chest as he got closer to the headstone.
Azriel kneeled in front of the headstone, a tearful gaze as he read the words that were etched onto the stone: Here lies (Y/N), the wonderful wife of Azriel. Mother of their unborn child. May the Mother and Gods bring her safe passage to the Havens.
It had been two years since he had to bury your body, along with your unborn child.
The Mother was cruel to him.
You and Azriel had been married for over three centuries — his life was full of color, full of happiness and full of love. You were everything to Azriel. He would miss you when he went to missions, kiss you silly when he got home from said missions; he would spend lazy time with you, your head on his lap or vice versa — just spending time with each other. And for those three centuries, both of you had tried for a child, but because Fae menstrual cycles were so sporadic, it had been difficult.
But two years ago, your miracle baby happened.
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“Azriel!”
Azriel turned around after shutting the door to your apartment, only to catch your body that flung towards his way.
“Hey love,” he greeted you, a chuckle escaping his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, looking down and noticing how your head tucked into his chest. He could feel your excitement vibrate through your body and he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten you so happy.
But at that moment, he just leaned down and pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, watching your head tilt up to look at him, your eyes shining.
“What is it?” he hummed out with a raised brow.
He watched as you bit your lower lip, fighting the smile that tugged at the edge of your lips.
“You know how I have been feeling unwell the past few weeks…” you had started off.
Azriel hummed out, shifting you in his arms so that you were at his side, his arm wrapped around your waist before leading you into the kitchen. He maneuvered you around, grasping your waist and lifting you with ease onto the countertop next to the stove.
“Azriel!!” You shrieked in surprise, your hands grasping his shoulders to stretch yourself.
He smirks up at you, settling himself between your legs, “Now what were you saying, love?”
He watched you huff softly before continuing your story, “Well I went to Madja earlier today and I told her of my symptoms—-”
“Nausea, headaches, bloating…” he listed off.
Azriel knew your symptoms, it had worried him to the max. Both of you didn't know what had happened — he was worried about some sort of poisoning… he thought of the worst-case scenarios. And you had to be the one to calm him down from those spiraling thoughts.
You hummed and nodded your head, “Well… it looks like you didn't have to be so worried about that poisoning scenario, my love…” you whispered as you leaned down to press your forehead against his.
He felt your hands slide down his shoulders, down his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Azriel always loved how you touched him — there was no hesitancy in the way you held him, touched him — whether it he sexual or intimate. You had always initiated touching him and now, he can't live without your hands or body near his own.
He felt your hands grip his own, sliding then to your lower abdomen, pressing his hands against the soft skin.
“… I’m pregnant, Azzie…”
Your words were a whisper and Azriel felt his eyes widen at the words that had left your lips. He stared up at you and watched as your eyes sparkle light the night sky at your confession.
Hazel hues looked up at you before sliding down your body to where your hand lay over his own. A wide smile tugged on his lips before he slipped his hands away from your own, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.
He poured everything into that kiss — all his love for you and this unborn child.
When his lungs screamed for air, he was content with pressing kisses on your skin while you giggled, feeling your hands run through his hair.
“We’ll be having a child…” he whispered in disbelief.
He heard you let out a hum, feeling your head nod, “Yes we are… after centuries… our beautiful child…”
Every word that you whispered was full of happiness, adoration, and excitement. He knew, from hearing you speak, that you'd be a wonderful mother… one that would dote on that child.
He was elated — after centuries of both of you trying, watching your family build their own little families — Azriel was worried that both of you would never be blessed with a child. Yet now, the Mother seemed to rain her fortune on the both of you.
But deep within him, worry festered like mold, slowly growing. He worried about the complications — he heard about it with Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian. And he worried for you — and all he could pray to the Mother that you would be spared from it.
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“What color should the baby’s room be?”
Azriel hummed and raised a brow, turning his head to gaze at you. He fought back a smile — he had found you so adorable. You had waddled, your belly large protruding your tiny stature. Your hand tucked in the crook of his elbow protectively.
Azriel had ensured you were in good hands during your pregnancy; and that he would always prioritize your health and safety. He would never let you go out without him, either himself or his shadows. He always had a hand on you — whether it be around your waist or, like now, your hand tucked into his elbow.
Your features glowed despite the exhaustion he knew you felt — you had looked so beautiful during your whole pregnancy and Azriel worshiped you like the Goddess you were to him.
He watched as your gaze went up to him, your head tilting slightly at the look he gave you. Azriel shook his head, “You know I'd be biased if you asked me, love…” he answered.
Azriel would choose blue, even if it was a girl or a boy, his siphon colors would be that room’s color.
He watched as you rolled your eyes, and felt your hand pat his forearm, “Why am I not surprised that, out of all the colors, you’d choose your siphon?”
The two of you walked into the paint shop, the doorbell ringing above you. You were greeted by a Fae, one who was shocked and nervous to meet the Spymaster and his wife.
Azriel patted your hand and slipped your hand from his elbow, “Go ahead my loves… I'll be here…” He watched you smile before following the Fae to the color room, and he watched with adoration.
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“You can't leave me, (Y/N)…” he sobbed, grasping your flaccid hand in his, pressing a kiss on cold skin.
The room was deathly still, his sobs echoing in the loud shared room.
You had gone into labor hours ago, and that labor… was difficult on your weak body. The babe, as Madja had warned you and Azriel all those months ago, had taken a toll on your body. You had been sick and bedridden for most of the pregnancy — Madja had stressed for you to terminate the pregnancy — it was either you or the baby.
Azriel had fought for you to terminate the pregnancy; begged and cried you to.
He could live without the unborn child but without you?
Never.
He watched you cry, begged him to let you keep the babe — he listened to your bargains, and promises; he listened to you cry in the night whispering to the baby all the while rubbing your stomach.
He watched everything… but he couldn't lose you.
But you had been stubborn, wanting to keep the pregnancy — pushing it to term — despite the consequences of it.
And so when you went into labor, the amount of blood you lost… was too much for Madja to replenish with her powers. The baby that was born was already too blue to try to bring back alive. Azriel was by your side the whole labor, watching you push your body to the brink — all for the child.
He felt your pulse slow underneath his fingertips, his hazel eyes frantically trying to find yours as he watched them roll backwards.
“No…No!” he yelled, dropping your hand onto the mattress and cupping your cheeks, “My love… (Y/N)…” he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, trying to pull you from the call of death.
Azriel watched you smile up at him, your eyes focusing on him, crescenting as you looked up at him, “…Azzie…” you whispered.
He fought back tears as he nodded his head, “Hey, my love, yes, I’m here… I’m here…”
“I’m sorry…”
It was as if you knew… this would be the outcome of your decision.
“No… Don’t be sorry… Please don’t… Just… Please don’t leave me… You can’t leave me…”
He watched as your eyes roll again and he brought your face closer to his own, watching them focus on him again, “…I don’t want to… But, I’m so tired Az…”
Azriel felt a heart wrenching sob escape his throat. His thumb caressed your pulse point, feeling it slow more. He looked up at his High Lord and the Healer and both of them looked at him with a somber look.
A shake from his High Lord gave his answer.
The tears finally fell, as he looked back at you — and you back up at him. He watched your brows furrow in confusion as you stared at him.
All he did was shake his head, leaning down to press one final kiss on your lips.
“Sleep… My love… if you’re tired. I’ll wait for you to wake up…”
He felt you take one last breath, a smile tugging on your lips as you whispered, “I love you, Az…”
Azriel felt your body go limp in the bed, your head roll back and your pulse stop completely. He watched your eyes dull, that smile still on your features.
His body shook, and tears never ended as he pulled your body into his arms, cradling your head as he let out a cry, pressing his face into the crook of your neck — the final time he’d ever feel you against him.
Azriel never thought heart break would be so painful.
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He stared at the tombstone, pulling out of his thoughts and memories to reach down and caress the marble stone.
“… Hi my love…” he greeted you, like usual, “It’s raining again… It seems that Valeris is in a typhoon of rain recently…”
Azriel sat himself down on the muddy ground, not caring if the mud and rain soaked through his clothes again.
He had sat there, talking to you about his day, what had happened recently with the family, what was going on with Valeris and Prythian in general. He talked for hours until he felt his voice go sore and his body shake due to the cold from the rain, but he didn’t leave… not until the skies turned dark.
Azriel laid himself down on the patch of dirt in front of your grave, laying on his back as he stared up at the sky. It seemed the rain ceased and the beautiful starry skies of Valeris peaked through the rain clouds.
He watched the stars twinkle, before a shooting star blazed through the sky before another one — much smaller — followed it.
“…Was that you, (Y/N)?” he whispered, thinking that those two fallen stars were you and the child, reaching out to him from the Havens above.
Azriel had been searching for signs, for the past two years of any sign of you in the Havens. Looking for signs that you were calling for him — looking for him. All he wanted to know was that you were out there.
And that shooting star was it.
He smiled and closed his eyes, “I’m coming back home to you…”
333 notes · View notes
softpascalito · 17 days
Text
I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 1 I
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Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.
But he doesn't stay a stranger.
Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added
AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist
notes: this work has been quite a while in the making and im very excited to finally share the first chapter! a huge thank you to the wonderful josie for being my beta reader and listening to all my rambling <3
this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.
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Chapter 1 - The Before
‘‘I will be very sad to leave here’, Yves said, suddenly. ‘I have never been happier than I have been in this house.’ ‘I have been very happy too. I wonder if we will ever be so happy again.’’  - Another Country, James Baldwin
You’d been on the run for what felt like weeks but could only have been days when you found the gas station next to an abandoned mall. It had looked promising, the half-rotten advertisements plastered to the walls, reminding your stomach that it had gone far too long without a proper meal, or any meal for that matter.
Maybe if you hadn’t been so starved or so tired, you would’ve heard them coming, the Infected that stormed through the back door practically the moment you slipped into the building. A yell escaped your throat, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife you kept buckled to your leg. You didn't even get the chance to pull it out of its makeshift holster before the creature was on top of you, pinning you to the floor with what felt like inhuman strength.
“Fucking- get off-” you grunted, but even if the thing on top of you had been one that listened to commands, your thin and shaky voice likely wouldn’t have impressed it.
So this was how you were gonna go out. In a town you couldn't even name, somewhere in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, after finally escaping the life you’d been stuck in for so long. You hadn't even made it a month.
For a second, you considered trying to reach for your gun, still tucked into your pants and pressing into your back uncomfortably. You could feel its outline against your skin, a pain shooting through your spine as the Infected seemed to double its effort to reach your neck with its mouth, half-rotten teeth close enough that you could recognize the foul smell of death.
Then, the gun went off. Or you thought it did. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in your ears as the Infected collapsed on top of you. But the feeling of your pistol pressing into your back was still there. It had been a gun. But not yours.
“I got her!” a voice above you bellowed out, an unmistakable southern drawl. “Tommy, give me some cover here, goddammit!”
You hadn't even noticed the second man, who was now aiming his gun at another runner storming towards him. He fired, once, twice, and the Infected let out a howl before its body hit the tiled floor with a thud.
“Hey, you with me?” The man above you leaned down, shoving the Infected that had been on top of you to the side unceremoniously. He was dressed in a worn jacket, jeans and boots, the latter two splattered with blood. His right hand, covered in a weathered leather glove, was stretched out towards you, an invitation to, well, you weren't exactly sure.
“She good?”
The second man approached the pair of you, your eyes flying over to him for a split moment. He was dressed similarly, except that he looked a little younger than his partner. He shouldered his rifle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your gaze flew back to the man in front of you, to the brown eyes that carried an unexpectedly gentle look, not quite matching the gruff way he looked. Shaking slightly, you placed your hand in his, and the next moment, he was pulling you to your feet.
“There you are.”
You nodded, a motion that looked more like your head was jerking on its own accord. But the man seemed to accept it. As the other one stepped towards you, the taller of the two men spoke again.
“You clean?” When no response came, he pressed on, his tone getting a little more impatient. “Did it bite you? Scratch you anywhere?”
The other one gently placed a hand on his chest, forcing your attention onto himself. “Can you walk? Our horses are two houses over, we've got a place where you can rest, get some food-”
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you blurted out. You'd had your fair share of people, of men offering you ‘help’ and it never stopped there. There was payment, always. In this world, it was stupid to think there wouldn't be, that anyone would help you out of the kindness of their hearts.
“You're not going anywhere else by the looks of it, either,” the man with the gloves muttered, more than loud enough for you to hear. “You won't last a week.”
“I've lasted longer, asshole,” you shot back, suddenly angry at the stranger in front of you. He didn't know you, he didn't know the things you'd gone through to get here. So what if he had saved your life? It didn't give him the right to predict your death.
The other man nudged his ribs, extending his hand to you as well, though it was more of a formality this time. 
“Name’s Tommy. The asshole is my brother Joel.”
He paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to approach this the right way. “Look, I'm sure you've been traveling for quite some time. We can give you a place to recover. You can leave anytime, I promise.”
You eyed him carefully. It did sound too good to be true. But it also did sound- good. A roof over your head, warm food in your stomach- two things you'd been craving for quite some time.
“Okay.”
The man who had introduced himself as Tommy gave a short nod and led the way to the horses, following tracks in the snow the two men had left while coming to your rescue. Joel pulled up the rear and you had a feeling that his eyes were trained on you, watching carefully, maybe for a twitch or anything else out of the ordinary. Again, you weren't sure why, but it made you angry.
“I told you I wasn't bit,” you repeated in his direction as Tommy began untying the horses. 
Joel raised a brow, clearly surprised by the attitude in your voice. “‘ts what they usually say.”
“Well, I'm not,” you replied, turning your back on him and focusing on his brother instead. Tommy pretended not to have heard either of you but somehow you were certain he had.
“C’mon, you can ride with me. It's not too far.”
Not too far turned out to be a good hour, the crisp autumn air making you shiver, and you were thankful for the warmth of both the horse and Tommy. But what the ride lacked in temperature it made up for in views, the sun coming out just as you passed the first sign that read ‘Jackson County’.
You didn't even mind Joel's occasional glances towards you as much, finding that with the sunlight playing in his brown curls, his look screamed less of danger and more of concern. Whether it was concern for Tommy or you or something entirely different, you weren't sure.
The answer came to you in the form of your housing arrangements. After getting over the first shock of riding up a busy mainstreet in what looked like an actual, functioning town, a thing you hadn't thought possible anymore, you had made use of what must have been the first functioning toilet you'd seen in months. You felt like a child being steered through the crowd at a busy carnival, if the food hall, the functioning plumbing and electricity and the music drifting from one of the smaller shops was any indication.
“You know we ain't got any unoccupied places and Maria and mine’s no good with the baby screaming all night,” Tommy muttered urgently and you frowned a little. The two men were standing a few feet away, clearly unaware that you were already back and you awkwardly shoved your hands in your pockets, considering going back inside for a moment. But then Joel opened his mouth and you couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. The older man seemed as much a mystery as the entire scene around you.
Tommy piped up before Joel even had a chance to argue. “It's just for a couple of nights. I’m sure Ellie and you will manage. You take her in, explain the basics and as soon as we got a place, you can go back to shutting yourself off from every goddamn person in this town-”
“I don’t-” Joel interrupted before shaking his head, a low grunt leaving his throat.
“Fine. Until Thursday, no longe-” He broke off at the look on Tommys face, one that was aimed directly at you. You shyly nodded in his direction and closed the distance between you in a few quick steps. 
The younger man cleared his throat, giving you a reassuring smile. “Find everything okay?”
“Yeah, thanks,” you replied politely. You hated how forced the conversation felt, already regretting listening in on it at all.
“Joel here’s gonna get you settled for the night, you let him know if you need anything else. I'll stop by in the morning and introduce you to Maria, she’s-”
“The boss,” Joel finished for him, earning a small glare from Tommy. 
“One of our elected leaders,” he corrected, another smile playing around his lips at the mention of what you assumed must be his wife. “Well, I'll leave ya two to it.”
Joel took you home. He still gave you that look, and with Tommy gone, you could be sure that it was actually aimed towards you. It was like he was still on guard but whether it was of you or something else, you couldn't tell.
“Here's how this is gonna go,” he started as he fumbled with the front door of the house clad in white. “You get a quick check-up, a shower, some fresh clothes- you get the idea.”
“I get the idea,” you repeated as he led you into the hallway, unable to keep yourself from glancing around for a moment, catching a peek of the dining room. “You live here by yourself?”
“Why?”
His question hit you out of nowhere and you stuttered for a moment, racking your brain for a good response, “Just- I was making conversation. Jesus.”
“Right,” Joel nodded, his gaze softening a bit. He placed his bag onto the floor and tapped his right thigh absent-mindedly. “Come on, follow me.”
He took you into the upstairs bathroom that smelled faintly of soap, reminding you that you hadn't had a proper wash in more days than you cared to count. There were a few small containers, mostly re-used mason jars, that were labeled ‘shampoo’ or ‘body wash’, sitting orderly on the small shelf next to the tub.
You felt more than heard Joel shift behind you and turned to meet his gaze. He was still watching, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for something.
“Do I- shower?” you asked softly and he sighed a little at that. 
“I need to check you for bites.” His voice was low but still carried a small note of sternness in it. 
Oh, right.
“I didn't agree to that.”
You could see his hand twitch, the handle of his revolver still sticking out the back of his jeans. “You're bit.”
It was more of a statement than anything else, like he already knew what was waiting for him under your clothes, maybe a bite on your leg, a scratch on your stomach. Joel had dealt with enough people that had been marked for death like that to know the signs of it. The thing was, he was wrong.
“Is this what it is?” you asked, quietly, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
“Excuse me?”
“Is that why you go outside, save people? So you can bring them back here, get them to take their clothes off for you-”
“Whoa-” Joel held up both hands, shaking his head very slowly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I need to check you for bites, it’s protocol.” His voice was still deep, that southern drawl you heard earlier in the gas station still present but somehow softer. His features had shifted, seeming genuinely surprised by the turn of your conversation.
“Now, if you want someone else to do it, I can get a lady and let her look you over. We just want to be sure we don’t bring Infected in, that's all.”
“That's all?” you asked as he kept his eyes trained on you, his hands still up in the air and his expression soft.
“I swear, that's all. If you can show me you're not bit, I'll get you that shower, some food, you name it.”
You gave a small nod at that, your body deflating a little. It had been an incredibly long day and the man in front of you seemed genuine. If he wasn't, you could still try and bail.
Joel turned slightly under the pretense of grabbing a towel from below the sink but you knew he was attempting to give you a bit of privacy- even though he clearly didn’t trust you enough to fully turn his back on you. With shaky hands, you began to strip, holding back a wince as you forced your bruised body to move. The fabric of your shirt clung to your skin, dry blood forcing another whimper out of your throat.
You felt Joel's head snap towards you at that but ignored him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing quite how uncomfortable you felt about going through this with him next to you.
He was quick and professional, his large hands brushing over your skin as he made sure you were clean.
“All good,” he commented shortly when he was satisfied, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he reached for a stack of folded towels. Then, his gaze rested on your head again, more specifically, on your matted hair.
“You want me to get someone to cut that for you? Might be easier than-”
“No,” you quickly piped up. You knew your body was malnourished and likely had a dozen other things wrong with it. You didn’t want to lose your hair too.
Joel nodded, his hand absent-mindedly trailing over a particularly nasty knot. “I think I got some soap conditioner in the closet. You want to give that a try?” 
“Yeah, that’d be great,” you responded curtly and Joel disappeared from the room for a few moments. He came back, as promised, with a soap smelling of jasmine and cotton. 
He didn’t seem as hesitant, now that he knew you weren’t bit. At least that’s what you assumed had caused the shift in him. It didn’t occur to you that it might be the fact that you were sitting on his bathroom tiles, shivering, assuming the worst in him, in men, hell, in society. That you looked like a wounded deer, ready to take off at the slightest notion of danger, no matter how badly you were already bleeding.
Joel was a lot more gentle than you would have expected a man of his build to be. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, reaching just far enough to cover your entire hair, but never letting any conditioner run down onto your face. It made you wonder if he was a father. Then you remembered his brother had mentioned a girl earlier, Ellie. Still, you knew better than to ask. You’d likely be gone in a few days anyway.
But, there was one question that you couldn’t keep from slipping out of your mouth.
“Why did you think I was bit?”
Joel paused for a moment, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he seemed to think about his words.
“You weren’t fighting hard enough. To stay alive, I mean. You were acting like someone who knows that their time is up.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt his hand brush over the crown of your head, lathering the matted mess that was your hair with soap in small, circular motions.
“I thought it was,” you whispered, honestly. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't bring yourself to explain it either.
He didn’t ask.
Neither of you spoke again until you were curled up in his bed, him insisting to take the couch for the night. He’d fed you some soup, relieved when he saw that your stomach could handle that. He’d warned you that it might not, after getting so used to going days without food. You’d gotten some worn but warm clothes to wear after the shower and now your body was sinking into an actual mattress. It was more than you’d dreamed of just that morning.
Joel paused in the doorway, his hand tapping against his jeans, a habit you had already picked up on. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands when they weren’t holding a gun.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”
Your mouth went dry as you tried to keep your tone nonchalant. His expression told you that it wasn't exactly working. “Who said I was leaving?”
“You look like you will.”
Again, a quiet fell over you and you shook your head softly. “What, you were a psychologist before or something?”
He smiled weakly. “Contractor.”
After a short pause, he went on. “I know it's hard to- to trust. When ya first get here. I felt the same.” 
You felt a small breath leave your throat at that. “But it gets better?”
“There's hot water, three meals a day, fair working conditions. I don't think it gets much better out there,” he pointed out softly before giving you a small nod.
“I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Good night.”
27 months later
The almost-empty soap sits on your bathroom shelf, the one that’s screwed to the wall just above the worn-out bathtub. You’ve gotten it refilled every few months, sometimes sooner if you wanted to allow yourself a little treat. It still reminds you of your first day in Jackson, of the safety that you so quickly felt in every room of Joel's house.
You still have some time before you have to head to work and the blue sky promises a cold but clear day so you decided to go and check if you’re in luck with any available refills today. Stock always changes throughout the week and while there’s usually something available, you prefer to get your chosen products if possible.
No such luck.
“Sorry, we’re all out. Think patrols cleared out the store that had these a while ago,” the woman behind the counter says apologetically. “We have some others if you’d like to try a new one, there’s-”
“I’m good,” you quickly insist, giving her a small smile when you notice you may have sounded a little harsh. “I’ll just wait and see if some more comes in.”
In one quick motion, you turn around and head towards the door- only to run face-first into a broad chest draped in a thick, brown coat.
“Whoa.” The deep voice above you immediately sends a gentle warmth through your body and you take a small step back to be able to squint up at the man you bumped into.
“Sorry, Texas, didn't see you there.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Joel mutters weakly, fumbling with the small bag he is carrying before handing it over to the woman behind the counter. She thanks him and quickly begins to sort the items he has brought back from patrol. He’s wearing the thick coat you see on him whenever it drops below freezing, his dark boots leaving small pieces of wet mud on the floor of the small store. He’s been doing the creek trails then, most likely.
You’ve rarely been on patrol yourself, focusing your energy more on tasks inside the community. If it hadn’t been for Joel, you know you probably would have taken off in the first few days, maybe stolen some food and been on your way. But he’d gotten you to stay. With him, for a few days. Then they had found space for you in a small guesthouse close to the mainstreet, to be shared with a young woman not unlike yourself that had offered up her vacant bedroom.
You’d taken an instant liking to Lane. Joel had dropped you off at your new home, with the few things you owned, and you and her had both stood in the small kitchen in awkward silence, racking your brains for a good conversation starter. Of course, you’d come up with the one she probably heard every other day.
“I like your hair.”
It wasn’t a lie. Her hair was cut short but thick, and most importantly, it was blue. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen colored hair. It seemed to fit her though. The roots were brown and the overall color a little less vibrant than you’d seen in magazines of people before the outbreak. If anything, you liked this more.
“Thanks,” she said lamely, twisting her hand around the small cup she was holding. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m the worst at social shit,” she finally blurted out and it looked like she was half glad to admit it and half afraid of your reaction.
“Don’t worry. Me too,” you admitted, a grin spreading over both your faces, the silence seeming a lot more bearable now. She shrugged towards the counter, half a dozen muffins sitting on it. “You like blueberries? A friend let me nick these.”
She paused for a moment, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I mean, technically they’re not real blueberries, the ground here is too dry for those. I think they’re called juneberries, but we never call them that.”
You figured she’d be a solid roommate if she’d just met you and was already sharing her sweets. Half an hour later, when you had vomited the blueberry muffins back up in your shared bathroom, Joel’s warning about solid food still ringing in your ears, when she was standing beside you, holding your hair back and handing you a washcloth when you were finished, you knew she’d be more than a roommate. She’d be your friend.
She had also been the one to get you into teaching. You’d been fascinated when she first told you about her job in town, teaching the children of Jackson practically every subject she could. Neither of you had been in school before the outbreak so it was all the more impressive, the way she managed to control a class without the need to get loud or hand out punishments.
You’d taken a liking to the classrooms of Jackson as well, reminiscing on the last summer before the world had gone to shit and the way you’d looked forward to being in school, learning all the things big girls did. Not getting to sit in a classroom, and you didn’t count those at FEDRA as actual classrooms, had been only one of so many things you felt you had missed out on.
So it felt even more special now when, after you got Maria to assign you as teacher alongside Lane, you spent your days in the colorfully decorated classrooms, teaching a variety of subjects and a variety of ages. It was similar to life in Jackson, not without its fair amount of challenges. But, just as Joel had promised the first night, you learned to trust and the more you did, the easier it was to let yourself be. Above all, to let yourself be happy.
Joel steps outside alongside you, his head jerking back towards the small supply store. “Did ya get everything?”
His voice is soft, and you like to imagine that he sounds a little more gentle when speaking to you compared to the others. Not that you see him talking to a lot of people either way. You're pretty sure it's why he prefers the patrols, less people to bother him and less voices to listen to. Even though you had a feeling, about a year after you arrived in Jackson, that he also preferred being paired up with Esther, a pretty woman who took care of the horses and frequented the patrols. Especially those with Joel.
You had almost hoped for them to end up together, to drive the images of Joel alone at his too large dining table out of your head. But they didn't and the images stayed. You had him over for dinner, every other month. It started as a thank-you for helping you through your first days and quickly developed into a rare but regular thing. Ellie or Lane joined you occasionally, happy to get a nice home-cooked dinner and some of the wine Joel usually brought along.
You didn't see too much of him outside of your little gatherings, only the normal occasions that presented themself around town. But it was nice to know that he was there, that he would bring his wine and compliment your cooking and make small-talk and listen to the new developments of your life.
“It makes sense for you to be a teacher,” he’d agreed after you’d updated him on your new position, causing you to raise a brow. 
“What is that supposed to mean? Think I can’t handle myself out on the group patrols?”
His face slowly changed at that, Joel urgently shaking his head, “I didn't mean-”
You cut him off with a small laugh, no longer able to stay serious at how panicked he looked. “I’m messing with you, old man. I know what you meant. I think it makes sense too. I like it.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, grumbling a little under his breath.
It's Joel's voice that brings you back to the present. “I asked if you got everything?”
You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts, then it turns to shaking your head no. “They’re out of conditioner. But it’s fine, I can stretch mine a bit longer and maybe they’ll get some next week.”
“Ya still using the same one?” Joel asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and you nod. It's sweet that he remembers. It's been over two years, after all.
“Yeah. Liked it, never saw a reason to switch,” you explain lamely. He only gives a short nod, motioning for you to follow as he starts walking. 
You do, though perplexed. “School’s in the other direction.” “Thought your class didn’t start until ten today,” he points out. It never appears to you to ask how or why he knows this. When your steps slow down and your thoughts speed up simultaneously, he nudges you along.
“You want your soap or not?” he grumbles and your face lights up a little at that. 
“You got some?” 
Joel gives another quick nod. “Brought them back a few weeks ago. I would’ve given them to you if I knew ya still used them.”
You trot beside him like a puppy, making your way down Rancher Street and up the flight of stairs that leads to the small house clad in white. The noise of the wind chimes tied to a beam above his front porch drifts over to you, the gentle breeze creating a slow melody.
You haven’t been in his upstairs bathroom for years. It’s odd and it feels too intimate, seeing the place where he brushes his teeth in the morning, where he washes himself after a long day. You don't belong in a space this personal. You don't belong to him.
It felt different when you were curled up on the same white tiles, letting him check your bruised and battered body for signs of Infection. For a split moment, it did feel like you belonged, in a way.
Joel's hand brushes over yours as he hands you the soap, the one smelling of jasmine and cotton and safety. 
The rest of the day is a blur of lessons and grading, but the smell of the soap seems to linger, the comforting feeling in your stomach getting you through the work day. It doesn’t end until seven with you staying behind to tutor some kids for an upcoming exam and then to finish preparing said exam. The smell of food fills the air as you open your front door and you smile as you poke your head into the kitchen, “Smells good.”
Lane is seated at the table, a few papers in front of her. Likely an exam of her own, you think to yourself. Even after the world has ended, finals season still exists.
“My mum made that pasta you like so much today. Figured I'd save you some,” she says, nodding towards the tupperware sitting on the counter.
“You're an angel.” You whistle as you head deeper into the house, putting away your jacket and bag, fishing the soap out of the latter and placing it on the bathroom shelf. It makes you pause for a moment. You give a nod to yourself at the sight of the refilled container and make a silent vow to treat yourself to a nice bath today.
An hour later, your stomach is filled with warm pasta, the bathroom damp with steam and your hair soft, smelling just the way you like it. The clock in the small hallway reminds you that it's already past twelve and the knowledge that tomorrow is another day filled with teaching makes you want to crawl into bed fairly quickly. But you're thirsty.
Lane is still in the kitchen, her blue hair a little messy and crowned with a pair of headphones. The music spills out a bit, enough for you to be able to hear the low, steady humming of a song that seems mildly familiar.
You do remember a few songs from before the Outbreak- mainly the ones they played on the radio. But you know that Lane doesn’t, being a few years younger than you, meaning that she barely has any memories of the before.
You're already in your pajamas, shuffling to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Somehow it always tastes better at night. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks on you.
“Hey, you remember Joel is coming over for dinner on Sunday, right?” you ask with your back to your friend. When no response comes, you gulp down the last bit of water and turn around, giving a small wave in the air between you. 
Lane sits up a little more, pushing one side of her headphones back just enough to free her ear. “Hm?”
“Dinner with Joel, Sunday,” you repeat, a yawn escaping you. 
After a moment, she nods. “Right, I remember. We’re out of blueberries again, by the way.”
“I’ll make sure to restock this weekend then,” you agree, already halfway across the room. You give another small wave and finally head to bed. It looks exactly the same way you left it this morning, the blanket tucked into one side, the pillows arranged against the headboard.
“It's so good to be home,” you mutter to yourself as you crawl under the covers, stretching your body a little. Your left hand reaches for your nightstand and finds the book you've been reading, hoping to get just a tiny bit further tonight. With all the work and the winter festival coming up, you’ve barely made progress, the wooden bookmark still sitting near the front. You put it aside, glancing down at the finely carved piece of woodwork for a moment. Joel gave it to you for your first birthday in Jackson. Then you open the book properly, the worn-out spine cracking slightly. Just a couple of minutes.
But your eyes start to droop after just a few pages. After half a chapter, you're in a deep slumber, the book slipping out of your hands and onto the wooden floor below just as the front door slips shut.
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grandlinedreams · 3 months
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Hiya! Thank you for all of your fics! 🫡 They really make my day everyday! If you are still accepting requests, may I please request anything angsty with a fluffy end for Azriel 🥹 Whatever you can think of! ☺️
Hiya!! I sure can hehe, I hope this is to your liking!!
|| warnings: angst, blood, the war camp Illyrians are jerks, fluff
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Illyria is fucking cold.
Wind whips at your face, unforgiving chill biting at any exposed skin ㅡ not to mention the steady crush of snow beneath your feet. The sun is already sinking past the snow-covered line of pines that makes up the steppes ㅡ making you grimace and attempt to hurry your pace.
This was not how you'd expected to spend your evening ㅡ but then again, you suppose freezing to death is more ideal than whatever fate your supposed "group" had intended for you. Made of Illyrian males and wholly unfamiliar, they'd made it clear that you weren't welcome on this expedition when you'd started ㅡ even more so when they'd had the audacity to grab at you with enough force to bruise your skin.
You aren't Illyrian, and so perhaps the thought had been that you would be weak, made more vulnerable in unfamiliar territory ㅡ but you'd proven them wrong when you'd sank your dagger into the gut of one of them, wrenched yourself free, and promptly taken off with the speed of a frightened stag.
You know they could track you if they really tried, but with the snow that pelts from above and the darkening sky, you doubt they'll risk it. But you're facing a bigger problem now ㅡ you have no idea how to get back.
"Fuck," you whisper to yourself, teeth clenched to keep from chattering. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
If it weren't so goddamned cold, you would've been paying better attention. If you hadn't been chased off by a handful of alphahole males with superiority complexes, you wouldn't even be out here in the first place.
Which is why, you suppose, all you can feel is surprise as the ground underneath you gives way with the cracking snap of loose rock and earth. It doesn't give you time to react as you lose your balance, plummeting gracelessly down into the abyss below what'd apparently been a drop off.
Your body bounces once, twice ㅡ then your head rebounds off sharp stone, impact making your ears ring before silent black consumes you.
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Something is wrong.
Azriel can feel it, an undercurrent of tension that thrums in his veins like a second heartbeat. This entire place makes him uneasy, the churn of memories from his own time here as a child that reminds him why he avoids this place at all costs when he can.
But Rhysand had been adamant that he and Cassian make sure things were going well here, and you'd gone along to offer what support you could. Azriel appreciated the intent, but the way you'd been eyed by more than a few of the other males had set him on edge even further.
Cassian eyes him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy at the fact that he's just shy of pacing. Movement at the edge of his peripheral catches his attention, and he turns ㅡ it's the group you'd gone to scout the steppes with.
And, he notes with a fresh spike of fear to his stomach, you're not with them.
Azriel is moving before he truly registers it, eyes flicking from one face to another, fury rising like the maelstrom howling in the moutains beyond. "Where is she."
One of them has the audacity to scoff, and Azriel's blood boils as his shadows writhe, clamoring for bloodshed. Right now, he'd have no qualms about ripping every single one of them to pieces. His siphons blaze. "Tell me where [Name] is. Now."
One of them sneers. His arm is slung over his stomach, stemming the spill of blood from a wound to his stomach. Azriel hopes that you're the one who gave it to him. "She took off."
Azriel snarls, wings snapping out before he throws a rough, "Deal with them before I do" to Cassian before he's in the air and off in the direction they'd come from.
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The only reason you know you aren't dead is because everything hurts. Pain radiates from everywhere, from the tips of your toes to your scalp ㅡ but you're alive.
You're not certain if you're relieved or not. A quick tentative flex of your hands is first, then your neck, your back ㅡ and you hiss a sharp curse when white-hot agony starbursts from your left ankle.
It takes longer than you care to acknowledge to sit up enough to assess it ㅡ grimacing at the swollen flesh, bruised an interesting shade of purple.
Fuck.
There's no way you're going to get out of here, not like this. Frustration mixed with fear prompts the rise of tears to your eyes, and you grit your teeth against a sob.
You're going to die out here. And there's nothing you can do about it. You doubt those alphaholes told anyone what happened and while you know Cassian and Azriel will look for you, they won't know where to look.
You stifle another choked sob, then still at the sound of movement. Of course some wild animal would take advantage, you're an easy meal ㅡ
"[Name]," a voice calls from behind you, so Cauldron-blessedly familiar that it has you struggling to turn, raw hands scrabbling for purchase to haul you upright.
You don't know how your ankle bears your weight or how you don't immediately collapse back to the ground ㅡ all you care about is lurching into the Illyrian male's arms with a ragged call of his name. "Azriel."
How he found you is beyond you, but his arms are around you, warding off some of the chill as he takes on most of your weight. He doesn't ask what happened, and you don't ask what you look like. The way his grip tightens on you answers how he feels about both.
He's still gentle as he lifts you up, flinching when you still hiss in pain. And then you're airborne, cradled carefully against him. Pain and exhaustion make your eyelids heavy as you nestle against Azriel's neck, the subtle shift of his head against yours following you into sleep.
When you wake next, it's to the crackle of a fire and the warmth of dry clothes. Sitting up is still a challenge, and dried blood flakes beneath your touch when you bring your fingers to the tender throbbing of your temple.
"You're awake." You look up to see Azriel standing in the doorway. You've been around him enough to read him, the unspoken relief in his eyes as he approaches. "You don't have to worry about that group of warriors," he tells you, "Cassian and I handled it."
The gleam to his eyes turns wicked and cruel, and you have no doubts how he and Cassian handled it. It doesn't make you feel better. You look away, studying the blanket over your legs.
"They had a point," you mumble, hating the weak rasp to your tone. "I shouldn'tㅡ"
"Give people like that any kind of weight to the words they say," Azriel cuts in sharply. "Because they're wrong. Just because you aren't Illyrian doesn't mean you're not strong."
When you still won't look at him, Azriel approaches you and reaches, calloused fingers coaxing your head up to meet his gaze.
"You still deserve better, Az," you mumble. Azriel's eyes narrow, flashing before he's leaning down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is rough, demanding ㅡ and then he pulls away enough to look at you, eyes blazing.
"I don't want better," Azriel answers, voice low. "Because there isn't. I just want you."
Your lips tremble before you're kissing him again, softer and sweeter. "You have me, Az," you mumble.
"And you have me," he answers, quiet enough that only you can hear him. "Now and forever."
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guacamoleroll · 5 months
Text
𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍? 「𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦」 ༉‧
content. f!reader. (name) has an ex-boyfriend (not dazai), established relationship, delusional men, swearing, derogatory names (slut, whore), mentions of infidelity, fighting (one-sided), protective behavior. not proofread. 1.2k+ words.
author's note. for some reason, i have a bunch of these "ex-boyfriend" related fics in my drafts, so expect more of these!
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. you certainly didn't expect to reunite with your ex-boyfriend on a random trip to a coffee shop. but even with your terrible luck, it seems the universe is on your side as someone steps into the fray.
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"(Name)?"
You resisted the innate desire to furl out a groan as the shrill noise of a familiar voice called out to you from across a coffee shop. It had been a simple day, at least as far as the Armed Detective Agency was concerned—no terrorist attacks or massive genocide plots, only unexceptional cases that were resolved within seconds. With this once-in-a-lifetime chance to take a reprieve, everyone decided some delicious caffeinated drinks were a necessity for the laborious task of paperwork. And wouldn't you know it, you had both literally and figuratively drawn the short end of the stick—how were you supposed to know your ex-boyfriend was gonna be at this coffee shop the one time you had to stray from Cafe Uzumaki due to damages?
You decided it would be best to ignore the voice, hoping that it was simply a coincidental stranger calling out to someone else with your name and that you would be left alone, but you knew it couldn't be when a firm hand tugged on your shoulder.
"Woah!" he enthused with a beaming smile, capturing you into a hug without allowing a moment for you to react. You shoved him, inching away from him with an annoyed grimace.
"Don't touch me, Takahiro."
His expression shifted, mouth furled into a tight-lipped smile as his gaze sharpened. "No need to be so harsh, babe. I'm just happy to see you."
"Yeah, well, I'm not happy to see you," you grumbled, turning away as the line moved up. However, you were immediately drawn back away by a bruising grip on your arm, tugging you away from the line. Your eyes darted towards the other customers, who ignored the entire predicament as they filled the now vacant space. He dragged you through the side door that led to an empty alleyway.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" you yelled, rubbing your aching wrists after managing to push him away.
He only frowned as if unaware of his aggressive behavior. "I only wanted to talk outside, honey."
You snarled at him, practically chest-to-chest, as your anger spiraled. "First of all, asshole, I am not your honey. I'm not your baby. Get that through your thick fuckin' skull," you sneered, knocking the edge of your knuckle against his forehead. "And second, what in your right mind thinks it's okay to grab me? Ever! Who in the hell do you think you are!"
And he stood there as if your beratement was the most insane thing he had ever heard. "I'm your boyfriend."
Your jaw couldn't have dropped any further to the ground, mouth agape from the sheer potency of audacity and stupidity radiating from the man in front of you. "You're joking. You can't be that fuckin' delusional."
He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch with a sharp laugh. "You cheated on me. Four years ago. I haven't been your so-called 'girlfriend' for four years!"
"Baby," he braced his hand against your shoulder once more. "Stop it. You're making a scene."
You tried desperately to muffle your laughter with your hand, but it was useless as you practically howled, doubling over against the wall. "Trust me, Takahiro." You wiped the tears from your eyes, though they just kept coming. "You are not my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend, and he's certainly not anything like you."
Your moment of humor was interrupted by a hand slammed on the wall next to your head, the eyes of an enraged man-child scanning over your face. "You're cheating on me!"
You blinked, staring at him dumbly. "Huh."
His nostrils flared, teeth gritted as outrage bubbled up through his throat. "You fuckin' whore—!"
"Excuse me."
Both of you turned to look at this new entry into your little predicament—one confused, the other bewildered. A familiar face, framed with somewhat matted but wavy brown locks and capped off with a cheeky smile, appeared before you. You couldn't help but find the entire scene incredibly awkward—this was definitely a way to be found. However, he wasn't focused on you; his gaze was entirely focused on a perplexed Takahiro, the brunette's face shifting from unreadable to overly cheerful.
"I'm afraid you have something of mine!" Dazai exclaimed with an overly mushy voice.
Takahiro sputtered. "Y-Yours—?" He managed to cut himself off, glancing between the two of you as the gears in his mind turned. His brows shot up with a realization, directly the peak of his rage toward Dazai, grabbing him by the lapels of his trenchcoat. "So you're the bastard who this little slut—!"
He was cut off—cut off by a punch to his cut. He crumpled, groaning in agony as his legs quaked underneath him, only to receive a swift kick to the ribs, forcing him to topple over onto the ground like a bowling pin, saliva oozing out of his mouth as he grabbed at his chest.
Dazai crouched down, tilting away enough to hide his face from your view as his voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm feeling generous today, so I'll let you off with a warning." His voice lost its dramatic, pitched tone, cracking his knuckles with a look that would make the most hardened soldier weep. "Lay a hand on her again, and you won't have hands left to stroke your cock with at night. Okay, pal?"
He patted the quivering man's hair, watching him for a moment with a sinister smile curled up on his lips before that expression completely vanished as he threw himself towards you. "I know she's pretty!" he cried. "But don't touch the merchandise."
You struck Dazai with an odd look as he escorted you out of the alleyway, looking all too happy with himself. "What're you doing here?"
He grinned. "I came to help you with the drinks!"
"You just wanted to skip work, didn't you?"
He gasped, hand against his chest as if he were struck. "How could you say such a—!"
Before he could continue with his dramatic charade, you sighed with a surrendering smile, grabbing his face to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
His expression melted, like a lovesick dope, as he leaned into your lips. You were about to pull away, but he refused to let you as he brought you into a tight embrace, dashing kisses across your face.
"Osamu!" you giggled, weakly pushing against him in a vain attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.
He relished in those sweet sounds, bouncing like a dog with his tail wagging as he swayed you both side-to-side, not caring about the pedestrians looking at you with confused and concerned expressions.
"I think we should go on a date! Maybe to that new restaurant down the street. They have a special crab dish—!"
"You're not getting out of work, Dazai."
He pouted. "But honey bun! Can't you reward your knight-in-shining armor with a feast?"
You scoffed, intertwining his hands with your own as you hid your equally lovesick expression. "Later, Osamu."
He hummed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a longing kiss against your knuckles. His eyes settled around the sore spot of your wrist, expression contorting into something darker as his thumb dashed across the bruised spot before it shifted back into a smile.
"I guess I can settle for that, love."
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ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @sillyspookycat @aureatchi
© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.
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getodrools · 4 months
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after reading 'drunk in love' i can now only think about drunk toji, sloppy makeouts and pussy kisses 🎀
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໒꒰ྀི。•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ omgeee yes ! drunk toji is so filthy ! he's a dirty old man who would do anything to get his paws on you – he just gets extra nasty with liquor sobb ꩜ ᯅ ꩜
+ here is that drunk in love fic – w/ toji and others that's about the same concept if you enjoyed this one ! <3
𖣠﹒﹒content﹔mdni ୨୧ f! reader. pussy drunk! toji (quite literally). dub con (both parties are drunk but this is all consensual sex). lots of sloppy kisses and sloppy pussy kisses. dry humping. cunnilingus. fingering. pussy spank sob (he could get mean). clit biting. squirting ! ! he cums in his pants ;c. | wc –> est 1.1k+
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toji initiated this gently – playful with soft kisses and you in his lap, cradling the small of his waist. when he'd feel your plush thighs squeezing then and there he'd tip the bottle to your mouth. but at every brush of one's lips lasting longer began to slip with more drool. your maws wet and leeching.
he’d pour some more.
it burned. your face scrunching up so cutely he couldn't help but think, ‘fuck, that's my pretty girl.’ his cock stiffens up rock hard at just the drunk simmer in your smile, reminding him of the same faces you'd make when his tongue lapped at your pussy…
your eyes squeeze together, no tighter than the vice your thighs shake around toji’s head. twisting and turning, he groans at your tremble. slapping your thighs back open and giving them a mean pinch so he could fix where he wants his tongue planted down on you.
“quite whinnin’ baby.” hot mouth still smothered between puffy folds, the deep grumble vibrates a mess of bubbles from between his lips – a mess of mixed salvia and sticky sap you glisten more than his lower face with… you could almost hear the squelch when he'd slurp you right up too, tongue catching your clit and giving your nerves a gentle nibble. the sharp suckle forces your hands to knot in sheets and get lost in his shaggy hair.
gruff and sucking hard but not forgetting your little hole. toji hooks a finger deep in your cunt and he curves it just right your eyes knockback.
toji’s own flutter open or droop closed, getting lost between your legs or watching you get lost in the clouds. not only did the firewater still boil in your blood, it mixed deliciously with the slop of mess puddling at his chin, and you swear you could feel the wet muscle all the more.
drunk and a filthy mess.
toji wraps tight lips around your clit, sucking a mean pull ‘til the puffy nerves popped out his mouth. hips bucking, your boyfriend sloppy and just as drunk, yet the pistoning of digits and lethargic lapping gives your tummy a coil.
drunk on spirits or lust – either one, you spew out incoherent words, babbling long syllables and howls of his name, “toji! oh fuck– toji!” and he lets you roll your hips into his face. he finds it cute how you desperately mush his nose into the fat of your lips with the help of your hand-knotting in his hair, tugging at him in fervor.
he follows, taking a breath before scissoring a long tongue harder and between crammed fingers. the boozed man spreads you open, two digits keeping you wide to stuff a slippery tongue in your sopping hole. plugging you up with a constancy of flicks, you almost beg for a break, too wasted to other than moan.
your legs tremble. cumming and whining all over again.
toji himself moans into your cunt. not noticing every time you cried out his name, his hips looked for friction. cock too hard to be ignored, even off the rocks, his body knows what gets him off.
he gives a wet kiss to your lower lips; sliding his mouth up and down with a slosh, it almost tickles ‘til he gives you a mean swat. that hurt. your eyes squint open, mouth humming out an, “ah, tojii..” expecting the ceiling in your view, toji had already crawled up your body – now hovering an overwhelming gloom above you.
but that silver smile makes you giggle. falling pliant into his ragged touch again. it was anchoring and strong, handfuls of you squeezed into his grasp, he was reaching for every warm inch to hold close to.
“so messy...” toji grumbles. his mouth, chin, and his chest was wet— illuminating. you didn't even have to see the aftermath on the sheets, already feeling it puddle at your ass…
but catching a glimpse between your bodies as he clanged around, your brow hooks in. giggling at his own mess in his pants. a sludge of cum damped in his briefs and it was thick, oozing in strings through thin fabric.
“what're you giggling about? you.. you should be asleep..” you should be asleep. your body was already begging to fall into rest, but you couldn't help but giggle.
toji was scruffy and messy as is, but watching how he felt in his natural state with sap in his stubble and batter coating down his leg, and some liquor brewing in his system. he just looked so haggard. it was alluring, a timeworn man with rough edges made your cunt clench…
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<– BACK: PINNED 𖣠 NEXT: MORE TOJI FUSHIGURO –>
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mikecrewsteacup · 11 months
Text
"who howls my name" spoilers but
I'm hoping to finally start working on it again soon, partially bc I miss Gerry and Jon obviously BUT ALSO I miss Mike, who features importantly at the start of the chapter >:3
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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months
Text
it will come back.
"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back
pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)
a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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this is your fault. it’s all your fault.
you know better, or at least, you should have known better.
what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.
that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.
you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.
maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.
but this is love, he tells himself.
this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.
this is his love.
he loves you.
he swears he does.
in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.
something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.
it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.
he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.
he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.
"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."
that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.
"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."
he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.
his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.
it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.
if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.
from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.
he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.
first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.
it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.
soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.
"bucky, we're friends, right?"
he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"
"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."
"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?
"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."
"oh."
your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."
he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."
it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.
and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.
he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.
all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.
you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.
you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.
you can't feed someone starved for decades.
you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.
you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.
or he'll come back.
"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"
"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.
your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"
"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."
"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."
he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.
"i'm okay. i promise."
run, he silently warns you.
run.
run.
"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.
too late.
it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.
he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.
you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.
and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.
"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."
"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."
"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"
your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."
"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."
"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."
"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."
you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."
you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.
"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"
"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.
"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."
"you got into a fight?"
"he said some things. about you. about us."
"about me?"
"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."
"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."
"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."
"i would do anything for you."
you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.
you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.
it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.
if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.
but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?
no. not a chance in hell.
he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.
you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.
he'll always come back.
can’t you hear him just outside your door?
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1
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ohbo-ohno · 7 months
Note
If I chant noncon puppy play enough times will you grace us with more ghoap x reader noncon puppy play?
I would really love to see what you could do with Ghost coming across Soap and reader who are in a relationship but it’s rapidly becoming toxic with Soap becoming pervy and flirty with other people and reader being frustrated with it and the unsatisfying sex she’s having now because of it. And Ghost just takes one look and goes “yeah, I can make them happier” and then puts them in crates.
I like to think he’d put them in separate crates so they can’t actually touch each other but he’d make sure they were tied together so they couldn’t escape each other -💙
if you THINK noncon puppy play hard enough i'll probably feel it through the force and try to write it
also i fucking LOVE this ask and concept i love you for sending it in. this post is kinda scatterbrained though because i didn't want to write an actual drabble lol
im not a big fan of cheating in fics so im gonna exclude the idea of soap flirting with other people, but!!! i really really enjoy the idea of soap and reader being wrapped up in a toxic relationship and ghost going "let me get in on that". peak humor tbh.
i think this version of ghost would be sort of like howling and barking ghost - way more... subtle? puppy play. he's not taking you two home and shoving you in cages, he's getting you two conditioned to certain tones of voice and his whistles.
this is kinda difficult to come up for something with, because im trying to think of ways for ghost to slide himself into your relationship that even feel a tiny bit natural
my fave one (off the top of my head) is maybe you and johnny have been trying to pick up a third like every weekend to spice up your sex lives (you end up having near violent sex and arguing through the third person, and they're usually not down to hook up again) and one weekend you just so happen to ask ghost. he'd usually never take up an offer like that, but he sees the little fissures in your relationship pretty immediately and figures "what the hell?" might as well wreak a little havoc. unfortunately for him he gets far too attached as soon as he gets his hands on you two
i like to think he sort of just... becomes your third. at first it's just hookups (regularly, because you and johnny are fighting a lot recently and you love to do it with a third there instead of alone in your apartment and ghost never says no a threesome) but he pretty quickly establishes himself in your lives
from there, the training is easy. you and johnny are both fighting for power in your relationship, and you're too focused on your little game of tug-of-war to realize that ghost is swooping in and taking control of both of you instead. you're too busy working against each other to realize what he's doing to you
to be fair, he actually is helping you and johnny out quite a bit. you two are both hotheads with a lot of energy, fights happen very quickly and get very heated. ghost is there to step in, to knock the two of you on your asses and make you talk. you would not believe how often he sticks you in time-out, otherwise you two would say things you don't mean and end up pissy
he kinda literally talks to you two like you're dogs. a sharp "hey!" for bad behavior, scruffing one of you by the neck to hold you back, whistling to get your attention instead of saying your name, one word commands like "sit", "stay", and "come" instead of "wait a minute" or "come over here". pups need simple commands they can actually understand
he works on fixing your manners too :/
first step is to get you two waiting for permission to start dinner. sits down at the table and glares when either one of you eats before him, clears his throat all obnoxiously, does that horrible "thank you" when you drop your utensil. it's too awkward to push back against him (especially when you know how quickly he could stomp you down) and it's easier to just... listen. you get a pleased hum and a solid pet over your hair, a "good boy/girl" and the trade-off of waiting for permission to eat is worth it
(ghost places both yours and johnny's plate in front of you, smirks when he walks away and neither of you move to eat. fixes himself a plate, sits down, takes a few bites. neither of you move, you both get a little squirmy, huff a bit. he gives you the command word, and praises you both so good in bed that night. neither of you even notice that he's the only one at the table with utensils)
he sleeps between the two of you in bed because you both get jealous and possessive :/ wakes up to johnny snarling over his chest at you, grabs him by the jaw and hisses don't make me fuckin' muzzle you, rumbles all satisfied when johnny settles a bit
anyways you and johnny genuinely are happier with ghost <3 you're also more well-mannered and understanding of your positions!!! you're just a pup, pups shouldn't have an attitude, and they wait to eat until they're told, and sometimes they have to sleep in a crate when they've been bad :/
(when he crates one of you he has to crate the other. if he locks johnny up you spend the whole time trying to taunt him, and vice versa. also you two are more well-behaved when you know you both get in trouble for your misbehavior)
it took a bit of work to get you two used to the crates. really ghost fights you with the pure power of nonchalance. you're both already Attached, and he's in control of so much of your lives (more than either of you really know), and he treats the crates like they're normal. Expected. he's not someone who changes his mind, and both you and johnny know that. you can pitch as much of a fit as you want, but you're going in that crate no matter what. there's just... a sort of inevitability around ghost
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twstfanblog · 7 months
Text
*~Period Drama~* Monday
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A/N: SCREAMS. There was no reason why this took me so long to get out. But it's here and I hope you guys like it! Another thank you to @bun-lapin for allowing me to use their lovely OCs for this fic series! I love them so much and I'm having so much fun playing with them! Word Count: 8.4K Words (God damn the next part is gonna be even bigger...) Warnings: She/They Pronouns OC, Period talk, Mentions of labor and pregnancy. Pairings: JamilxOC (Poly), Paternal Crewel &OC ~TagList @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Here), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2)
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Yuu felt awful, just total dog shit in a bag and on fire awful. But, that was to be expected when they had their period and hadn’t been able to take any pain medication. So, in all honesty, they should be fine.
Yuu checked themselves over in the bathroom mirror. Huffing under their breath and trying to get their hair to settle in a less haggard fashion. They weren’t too sure if they should even go to class. But then they thought about the fact they enjoyed school in Twisted Wonderland. They had teachers who, begrudgingly, took time out of their days to help them understand the coursework. It felt like some kind of disservice to skip out just to laze around their dorm in pain. Not to mention Crewel would have to either visit himself or have someone else bring them food and pain medicine for the day. It just sounded like a lot of unnecessary back-and-forth for everyone else that Yuu wasn’t in the mood to put their loved ones through.
 So, Yuu had put her big girl panties on - with a hand towel between her legs for blood catching, hoping she wasn't going to bleed through it - and got out of bed to go to school. She should also try to pick Grim up from Scarabia. While she’s sure her cat companion was having fun being held and hand-fed gourmet crackers, she did miss the furball and if Jamil’s update texts were of any merit, he was pouting about being away from her for so long.
Now fully dressed, and stiff with muscle aches, Yuu sighed as they walked out of their dorm. At least they were able to leave much earlier than they normally were. No Grim to drag out of bed and the fact they had been awake for hours beforehand playing a very key role. With the Sun just barely peeking over the thick woods, they started their journey to the main road to the school.
But, stepping onto the dirt path that branched off from the paved walkways of the school’s actual borders, Yuu pauses, calling out, “...Jack?”
Tall gray-furred ears perk up, the massive figure they were on freezing at the call of his name. Jack turned around slowly, almost in confusion at being called out to. But seeing it was Yuu who called to him, his wide-eyed expression shifted, his eyebrows creasing as his eyes darted to the dorm before moving back to Yuu, “Why are you outside?”
“No, no, good boy. This is still my property. I ask the questions first. What are you doing out here?” Yuu raises an eyebrow, walking closer to Jack and watching as he seemed to grow more nervous.
“I was…Just on my morning jog…”
“...At 7:30am?” Yuu smiles, tilting her at different angles with each question, “Without Vil? In your school uniform? Walking at a leisurely pace?”
“Yes, what of it?”
Yuu smiled, covering her mouth as she playfully batted at Jack’s arm, the other freshman scowling and twitching his body away from her hits, “Aw~. Were you checking on me?”
“NO, stop hitting me!”
“Oh, by the seven. I lived to see the day! Jack Howl, caring for his classmates. His heart has softened! He shows his emotions on his sleeve! His tail is wagging with glee!” “Shut up! It’s not!” Jack quickly looked behind him, just to double check his tail wasn’t actually wagging before he turned back to Yuu, “That’s not important! Why are you outside? Go back inside!”
“No? I’m going to class.” Yuu shrugs, moving to walk past him before the towering freshman steps in their path, “Jack. I was in a silly goofy mood, but not enough for this. Step aside.”
Shaking his head, Jack folds his arms in front of his chest, “No. You’re injured. You should be resting, not going to school. We’ll bring you your notes or something. Go back home.”
“No~.” Yuu tried to step past Jack again, only to lock them both into a half-step and jump dance that quickly had Yuu groaning in frustration, “Fucking move your enormous self!”
“No! You’re going back to Ramshackle to rest properly.” Jack moves forward, hands braced to clearly pick Yuu up to carry them back to the dorm physically.
“Jack.” Yuu steps back, a hand held up in a motion of ‘Stop’, “If you fucking touch me, I will eject blood on you so hard it’ll bruise you and never come out of your jacket.”
Jack instantly steps back, hands pulling back to his sides in mild fear. He…had no idea if that was even a thing. Was it a thing? Could Yuu actually somehow spray him with blood with enough pressure to harm him physically? He didn’t want to find out. Looking away, Jack steps back another pace, “I just…Should you be walking around? You don’t look good…”
Yuu sighed, tilting their head back, “I’m…gonna live. Don’t worry about it, I’m gonna get a quick pain potion from Crewel and just…fucking deal.” Rolling their neck, they shrug their shoulders and finally falling in step beside Jack to slap his back, “Come on, good boy. We got an education to get.”
“...” Jack sighed, quickly falling into pace with Yuu’s lazy stride, “Stop calling me that. Leona-Senpai keeps mocking me for it.”
“Good, you’re too big. You need to be mocked before you get any taller.”
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The walk to the main building was longer than Yuu cared to remember. It was only longer with Jack constantly pointing out that Yuu counted as ‘ill’ and that it would make sense for them to skip class for the day. Then, when Yuu would simply state they were fine, Jack would offer to just carry them on his back to the school since they were clearly in pain.
“Jack, you’re very sweet. I will literally bleed on you just to prove a point. Drop it.”
The beastman huffed, looking away in annoyance but not bringing it up anymore on their walk. But in the semi-crowded hallways, Jack didn't leave for his own class. He looked conflicted, glancing at Yuu then down the hall to where he was supposed to be. He didn’t want to leave his friend unattended. The scent of their blood was stronger the longer he walked with them and he could only guess how much stronger it would get during the day. Looking around, he could see the other beastmen glancing at them in various degrees of concern and bewilderment.
“Don’t you have to go to class?”
Looking from their surroundings, Jack turned back to Yuu. He sometimes forgot just how small they felt beside him. Sure they weren't the shortest of their friends and they wore heels whenever they could, not to mention they fit into Night Raven almost too well with the number of students they've sent to the medical wing. But smelling their blood, seeing how tired and simply weathered they looked…it made a part of him want to just scoop them into his arms. Try to hum and growl the obvious pain away, like how his own parents did when he hurt himself in his childhood.
But, he'd rather Yuu actually spray him like some kind of demented blood skunk than say that to them, "Yeah I'm…Yuu. You know you smell…weird right?"
The look in Yuu's eyes literally made a bead of cold sweat form at his temple. Piercing yellow eyes quickly looking away from deep, near soulless appearing black pupils as he stuttered. Yuu somehow managed to learn Crewel-Sensei's famous "I will skin you alive and wear it as a coat" glare, something that quickly put anyone on edge because they weren't sure if they'd actually try to do it.
"Not! Not like 'smell bad' weird! Just…off…like…" he blushes, a hand coming up to nervously thumb at a pinned back ear, trying to find the right words, "You…you smell like a lady…"
The glare had thankfully faded to a simple "That was the dumbest thing I ever heard in my life" expression. Yuu tilted their head both in question and to look Jack directly in his sheepish eyes,"..." They sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose and gesturing down the hall with their other hand, "Jack, go to class."
"But-"
"Go to class."
"Bye, Yuu."
They sigh, watching Jack's hunched figure scurry down the hall and into a classroom. Honestly, the fucking men of this school…
With a spin on their heel, missing the crowd of beastmen who jump and scramble out of their way, they walk toward the teacher's lounge. Hopefully, they'll catch Crewel before he made his way to homeroom for the morning roll call.
Instead, Yuu ran into Jamil and Kalim. The two second-years standing in front of a classroom and seeming to be arguing. Grim held in one of Jamil’s arms and clearly pouting. Whether it was from the lazy hold or his own bad mood, Yuu couldn't tell.
"I can take Grim with me to class. You already have issues focusing and Grim won't be any help in that avenue."
Kalim pouts, trying to take Grim from Jamil only to be denied each time, "Come on! You won't cuddle with him and he'll be so sad until lunch. Shouldn't we do our best to keep him happy until Yuu is feeling better?"
Jamil rolls his eyes, smacking Kalim’s hand away once again, "Yuu doesn't even try to keep Grim happy at all times. He can handle not being cradled for a few hours."
Yuu walks up beside the two, hands easily snatching Grim from Jamil’s grasp in his surprise, "I don't indulge him, Jamil. There's a difference." Yuu smiles, feeling Grim instantly start purring under her grip, shifting him until he was able to rest his arms on her shoulders in a lazy hug, "Sup buddy?"
"Why the hell are you here?"
"Hello to you too, Jamil, my love."
Grim grumbles, nuzzling into Yuu's shoulder, but pulling his ears back at their scent, "You still smell weird…" his grumbles turning into purrs as Yuu scratches behind his ear.
"Yeah. I'm still on the bleed, but I should be ok."
"How!?" Jamil looked ready to either burst a blood vessel, or simply grapple them to the ground to drag them back to Ramshackle. Which was fair, but Yuu felt like if anyone besides Grim touched them they'd start swinging.
Yuu shrugs, "It's fine. I'm…living. I can handle a day at school. Did it all the time back home."
"Yeah, I don't think that was healthy…" Kalim gives them a nervous smile, clearly wanting to gather them up in a hug but having enough sense to take note of their expression, "You look…upset…"
"Oh, I am. But, that's normal."
Jamil finally relaxed, if only to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Why are you here? You should go home, you're not well."
"Jamil." Yuu placed a hand on one of his shoulders, stepping closer to press their sides together and let the second-year wrap his arms around them, even though the contact was slowly worsening their mood, "It's gonna be fine. I'm on my way to get a pain potion from Crewel. I'm going to be sitting all day. So unless by some miraculous, horrible, divine intervention and periods become contiguous? Everyone else is gonna be fine, too."
"..." Kalim suddenly stepped back, his hands covering his lower stomach in brief panic, "Wait, it's contiguous?"
"No, you fucking- I'm gonna go." Yuu pulls away from Jamil, managing to pry the second-year's hands from their jacket, " I'm gonna go before I clock Kalim in the face."
"Me!? What'd I do!? I'm sorry!"
"Stop talking." Yuu took a breath, moving their arms to properly support Grim slung over their shoulder, "No offense Kalim,  but the sound of your voice is activating my fight response. So I'm leaving before I put it into action." They nodded in farewell, almost stomping away from the confused duo. Missing the panic that slowly grew over Jamil’s face before he pulled his phone out and started texting someone.
Yuu walked down the hallway, doing her best to keep her mood above the poverty line. Beastmen bobbed and weaved through the crowds, watching Yuu through doorways and running back around corners when they saw she had noticed their staring. Normally she’d attribute it to Savanaclaw reacting to one of her and Leona’s public squabbles, but too many uniforms were sporting non-yellow ribbons to only be the Beast King’s dorm.
Showing up to the ornate door of the teachers' lounge, Yuu saw a group of beastmen from various dorms crowded around it, whispering sharply among themselves. Yuu stood back a few moments before speaking up, “Are you guys gonna move or go in?” 
The yowl the cat beastmen let out made everyone jump. Yuu stepped back as they all turned to look at her in what could be described as ‘horror’. 
“...Um…Hi?”
“Do you need help!?”
“...” Yuu looked at the other beastmen, each one almost shaking with panicked expressions, “I gotta…get into the teachers’ lounge. So can you guys move?”
They move as a unit, one of them even shoving another to get him out of their path faster. They stood in a single file line beside the door, looking at them in a mix of respect and fear. One started to scramble to remove his jacket, placing it on the ground for Yuu to walk on as if it were some kind of tiny red carpet. The taller boy smiles sheepishly and gestured for Yuu to go into the room.
Yuu looked down, doing their best to not walk on the jacket, “Okay…Thank you…Please leave.”
There was a second scrambling, the same student shoving the other straight to the ground as they all tried to leave. The cat beastman doubled back. He stood fidgeting with his fingers and biting his lip. Looking at him closer Yuu could see he was from Heartslabyul. Seeming to gather up his courage, he looked at her with a firm nod, “You’re doin’ great!'' Then he turned tail and ran down the hall. The group of them peeking from around the corner before fully disappearing.
Grim pulled his head from Yuu’s shoulder, looking at them in sleepy confusion, “What was that about?”
“I…I wish I could tell you, Grim…Let’s just go see Crewel.” Yuu leaves the jacket on the ground, stepping over it awkwardly and opening the door, “Oh, papa dog? Your favorite puppy is here.” Crewel’s head snapped around from his seat at a fast speed, Ingrid giving his neck a concerned look at the audible pop she heard from across the table, “Why?” He looked Yuu over in bewilderment, standing up and rushing  to them, “WHY ARE YOU HERE!?”
“Well, I'm in this room to get some pain relief. But, I’m in the building to go to school? That thing you guys really want me to do? To get an education or something?”
“WHY-” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down. He bends down and places a hand on Yuu’s free shoulder, pulling her closer to speak softly, “My sweet puppy. My little mongrel. My mini menace…Why are you coming to school when you are actively bleeding from your vagina?”
“Because I’m not a little bitch?”
“You wanna repeat that?”
“Okay, okay!” Ingrid stood from her seat, gathering up the designs and fabric swatches she and Crewel were going over and quickly getting between the ‘father-daughter’ duo, “You two hotheads can cool down. Crewel, she’s here and willing to stay for classes. Now, as teachers, we’re not going to try to dissuade a student from attending classes now are we?” 
Ignoring Crewel’s grumbled response, the redheaded woman turns to Yuu. Her smile turning strained as she gets a good look at the first-year student. A part of her filing away the cutting remark of ‘hit by a truck chic’. But she keeps smiling, tilting her head in a questioning manner, “Yuu, are you…sure…you wanna go to class?”
Yuu sighed, taking one arm from supporting Grim to pinch at her nose. Copying the pose Crewel had just done only moments ago.
 Ingrid tried to keep her coo to herself. By the 7, she really behaved like a mini Crewel at times.
“Ms. Oster. I'm fine. This is totally normal, it'd actually be weirder if I didn't go to school. Unless I'm like…dying, there's no reason for me to not deal with my daily burdens while on my period. I just need a painkiller and I'll be good for the day or at least until lunch.”
Ingrid looks from the corner of her eye, taking in Crewel’s upset face before the bicolor-haired man scoffs. He rolls his eyes and turns on his heel, red bottom lace up loafers clicking against the floor.
“I swear, you were born to a damned dystopia. No one should be leaving their home, let alone their bed when bleeding like this!” He threw open the doors of a medicine cabinet roughly, fully stocked with all sorts of pain relievers though most of them were formulated for headaches. Being a teacher was hard enough, being a teacher at Night Raven College was a gauntlet.
Yuu shrugged, managing to catch the potion Crewel had flung at them. They were sure if they hadn't the teacher would have used their ‘decreased hand-eye coordination’ as a reason they shouldn't be in school. Uncorking the bottle, they gulped it down. While the pain was easing, none of the other symptoms did. They still felt awful, bloated, and as the fizzy thick syrup settled in their stomach, nauseous. 
Hearing the small groan Yuu made, Crewel clicked his tongue, “Puppy, I'm serious. Go back to bed, you're not well.” His stern tone dipped into worry on his last word, expression changed from angry to concerned as he walked closer to them.
Yuu waves not only him but Ingrid off, breathing evenly to get their body back in check, “I'll be fine…period never stopped me before, no reason for it to stop me now…” they sighed, letting Ingrid press a hand to their forehead briefly.
“...” Ingrid hummed, pulling her hand away to instead pick and straighten Yuu's uniform, “They don't have a fever…and they did manage to walk all the way up here. She might be okay to stay, Crewel…”
“Ha!” Yuu smiled at Crewel, “Get outvoted, bitch.”
“You wanna stay for classes!? Fine!?” Crewel slapped his crop in his hand out of frustration, growling under his breath before waving the crop as he walked, “Well then hurry up, puppy. Follow me to class. You're lucky it's a joint class day. Homeroom and potions will just be lectures.”
Even though Grim groaned in their arms, complaining about how boring just sitting was going to be, Yuu was pleased, “Perfect. I don't have the beans to actually measure shit out right now.”
“Amazing. It sounds like you shouldn't have come to classes.”
Ingrid chuckles, waving the two away as they leave the room, still nipping comments at each other in annoyance. Once she was sure they were gone, she whipped out her phone. Typing furiously into the teachers' chat room. If Yuu was going to be on campus, she needed to make sure Hui-Yan kept a certain someone in Diasomnia for as long as possible.
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Yuu and Crewel walked into the room, the teacher lightly shoving Yuu toward their seat, “Sit. And if I see blood on the chair when you leave, I'm dragging you back to Ramshackle.”
Their response was to quickly flip Crewel off, rushing over to their seat when the teacher raised his crop in a threatening manner. Sitting down, they nod their head in a greeting to their friends before placing Grim on the tabletop, “Sup?”
Ace and Deuce were staring wide-eyed, each leaning on the table in an effort to get a clear view of them. The duo looked at each other, then both looked across the room to Jack and Epel. Jack carrying a pinched expression, the look of guilt just barely coming across as Epel ogled aghast. The purple-haired boy gestured as subtly as he could, not wanting to call attention to himself as Crewel started to write on the board.
Deuce cleared his throat, hesitantly nudging his arm against Yuu's, “Yuu…do you really wanna be here right now? With everything going on?”
“Do you wanna die, Deuce?”
“...” The spade card soldier shared a fearful glance with Ace before answering, “No…?”
“Yeah, but you're gonna do it one day anyway. That's how I'm doing right now, so don't talk to me.”
Ace winches, tilting his head in confusion, “ If you don't feel well why didn't you just stay home?”
“Ace, I don't…wanna speak. I don't feel good. Just leave me alone and we can all get through today with our bones.”
The Heartslabyul duo clearly wanted to say something else, hoping to wear down their friend into going home. But the resting bitch face was stronger than normal, and neither wanted to test if Yuu was willing to actually attack them during class. So instead they sat quietly, taking their time to send messages with the other first years across the room.
Throughout the class, Yuu's glare only got worse. A headache almost forming from just how strained their facial muscles were. Crewel snapping his crop more than normal wasn't helping either. The professor kept dead stopping in his lecture to demand the attention of the class. Yuu didn't hear anything that would normally call his ire. Sparing a glance around the room, they noticed a few beastmen quickly look away from their eyes.
Yuu managed to make eye contact with one, the canine beastman jumping up from his seat, seeming to ready himself to vault over the table.
“SIT DOWN!” The crop hit Crewel’s desk so hard Yuu was afraid that the poor wand would just snap in half at some point.
The yell was enough to send the beastman crashing back into his seat. The Ignihyde student blushing furiously as he tried to curl away from the view of his classmates.
The class settled into an uncomfortable silence, Crewel grumbling before he turned back around to aggressively write on the chalkboard, the chalk squeaking harshly with each swipe.
Yuu sighs, gathering an already snoozing Grim into their arms and using him as a mock pillow. Laying their head down, they closed their eyes and welcomed the half nap that quickly took them over.
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If coming to classes was a ‘bad idea’, going PE was a horrible, shitty idea. Yuu had only gotten into their uniform by the grace of the Seven and however many other icons decided to help. The fact they'd need to change again after class only made their stomach churn.
By the time they walked out to the field, they were the last one to line up. Jack sends them a glance but straightens up as their teachers call for their attention.
Vargas boomed out a laugh, “Now that you’re all here, let’s get those muscles primed and trained! Let’s do some quick stretches then you’ll pick which training to do today. Either endurance training with me or strength training with Professor Dubhghall.”
Iomhar Dubhghall was a tall, quiet man. From afar he looked like an average person, but standing closer, you saw just how large the man was, broad-shouldered and long-limbed. While he did teach physical education like Vargas, he spent most of his time focusing on a sparring-centered class that was only open to the 3rd-years. Yuu had met him only a handful of times, delivering staff handouts in Crowley's place was the only real way their paths crossed. He rarely spoke but Yuu had the impression he was pleased enough with her. He had once called her back during a delivery to teach her a few moves on a practice dummy before sending her on her way.
Yuu didn’t mind the other gym teacher, she kind of preferred his quiet judgment over Vargas’ bombastic demands to ‘build muscle’. Overall, a more balanced teacher.
Sadly, neither PE activity was high on their list to do. They groaned and grumbled through the stretches, Jack muttering back to them that the stretches were almost over, to hold on for just a bit longer. Touching their toes made their stomach roll, having to swallow down what they feared really was vomit. Once the warm-ups were done, Yuu groaned, sitting down on the ground as the other students quickly divided themselves among the activities.
Epel tried to walk closer, a nervous expression on his face before he was called back from one side of the field. Someone obviously taunting him about not being brave enough to spar. The Pomefiore first-year growled, looking at Jack before the two of them nodded, Epel running after the student who mocked him. Instead of picking an activity, Jack stood vigilant beside their seated form, eyes scanning the crowd. Every now and again, he’d growl or increase his glare in a direction.
Ace and Deuce ran around the track, Grim hot on their ankles as they would look over every time they passed her. The Heartslabyul duo checking on her in their own way.
Vargas looks from the side, opening his mouth to call Yuu over, only to stop at a firm hand resting on his shoulder. Iomhar didn’t turn to face Vargas’ confused glance, only shaking his head. Vargas huffed, folding his arms but not calling out to Yuu, “I don’t see why she should be allowed to sit out…If she had the energy to come to class, she’s got the energy to build her muscle.”
Iomhar shook his head again, “Just because she had the will to get to the mountain doesn’t mean she has the might to climb it. Not today at least…”
“What does today have anything to do with it?”
“...” The other teacher looked at Vargas with an exasperated look, “Do you not check your phone?” 
Yuu sat silently, hands gripping and ripping into the grass in a method to distract themselves. Luckily, Jack kept his strange guard around her. The Savanaclaw student every now and again rushing around to grab and offer Yuu a cold water bottle that she would only accept half the time. Mid swallow, a familiar Heartslabyul student walked closer, ears pinned back as Jack growled at the cat beastmen.
“Jack…Calm down.” Yuu titled their head at the Heartslabyul beastman, questioning glare just a bit fiercer than necessary, “What do you want?”
“...” The cat beastman suddenly got nervous, shuffling his feet and looking down before breathing out, “We made you something…Come see?”
“...I guess?” Yuu groans, standing to their feet and sighing, “What’s this thing?”
The student perks up, gesturing behind him to the bleachers, “It’s under there! Me and some others worked hard on it so it’d be extra comfortable for you.” A beat of silence passes before the beastman steps closer, “Do you need me to carry you?”
Fuck no? That was what Yuu was going to say. Instead, they had to force down a gag as they felt themselves being scooped up and jostled into large firm arms. Once the nausea faded they realized they were in Jack’s arms. Their Savanaclaw friend glaring daggers at the shorter student.
“I’ll carry them. Just lead the way…” Jack looks at their bewildered face, ears pinning back in embarrassment, “Sorry…Should've asked…”
“You shouldn’t have in the first place.”
Jack hummed in what had better be agreement, following the jittery Heartslabyul student behind the bleachers. When they arrived, Yuu still wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be looking at. On the ground, protected from the dirt by a tarp, was a pile of fabrics. It looked like a mess of school uniforms all piled together and formed to give it a side so that someone could lay lounge style. Looking longer. Yuu noticed a few pieces of clothing that belonged to her friends. Epel’s ruffled dress shirt, Ace’s tie with a playing card tucked into the back folds, and what seemed to be Deuce’s track hoodie.
Silence passed, until Yuu spoke up, “What the fuck am I looking at?”
The group all deflates, turning to start whispering to each other. ‘They don’t like it.’ ‘I told you we should have put food nearby!’. ‘We didn’t get enough of their friends' stuff…’
“No, don’t ignore me, tell me what the fuck I’m looking at!”
Jack huffed but didn’t demand an answer either. Readjusting them in his arms before turning away with a mutter of, “Pitiful…” Exiting the bleachers as the group of beastmen start to mobilize again.
“I’ll go grab snacks!” “You! Go grab some blankets and pillows from your dorm!”
“How did I not think of it!? Pomefiore is a haven of proper materials!”
Yuu scowled, upset from still being unanswered, “Jack. What in the green eyes of the thorn fairy was that bullshit?”
Jack glanced away, ears pinning back as a conflicted expression crossed his face, “...” He opened his mouth.
“Jack. If you tell me something along the lines of, ‘I smell like a lady’ again…something…will happen to both of us…”
And his mouth snapped shut, the clinking of his teeth being the only noise he made. Reaching back to their plot of free space, Jack moves to place Yuu back on the ground.
“No.”
“Alright…” Jack stood up straight, keeping Yuu in his arms. Eyes scanning the surrounding area for various “dangers”.
From the side, Vargas looked up from his phone and groaned, “Iomhar, look at this! They’re not even sitting anymore! Howl’s carrying them around. I’ve had plenty of muscle cramps in my life, this can’t be as bad as everyone is claiming it is.”
Iomhar again shook his head, “Yuu’s already primed to fight anyone they please. It’s even more so now and I don’t believe any fondness they hold will keep them from actually trying to hurt someone…So if they attack you, I’m not pulling them off of your neck.”
“Phhht. I doubt they’d be able to reach my gloriously robust neck. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of fighting Little Ramshackle?”
“I don’t fight children, Vargas. I at most spar with them, and at least, train them.”
“Oh, and I assume flipping the Schoenheit boy three times in one match was sparring.”
“It was. It was in the ring and everything.”
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Yuu glared at her friends, Grim held firmly in her arms, “Literally…All of you?”
Epel smiled, a bead of sweat just barely rolling down his temple as he tried to steady a clearly distressed Sebek who was clawing at the hallway wall in a bent-over position, “Sorry…Sebek’s really not feeling well. Ace, Deuce, and Jack are helping me since Diasomnia gives me the creeps. We’ll try to be back by lunch! To keep you company!”
Yuu shook her head, walking past the group of nervous boys, “Don’t worry about it. Take little bitch boy Sebek back to Diasomnia. I’ll…take notes or something I don’t know…”
Deuce spoke up, nervously rubbing the back of his head, “Do you…wanna come with us-”
“NO!” Sebek jumps up from his huddled position, the panic clear in his expression as though Deuce just suggested they all go line up to punch Malleus in the face. He realized his outburst, turning to Yuu with a fearful expression, “Uh…I mean…Please don’t come to Diasomnia.”
“...” Yuu blinked before shaking her head and walking into Trien’s room. Whatever was going on today with everyone was something she did not have the bones nor spoons to try to figure out.
The potion had started to fade, already feeling the tightening pressure doing nothing to help their rolling empty stomach. Their mood had also not gotten any better. For the rest of gym class, the same beastmen students had continuously called Jack to carry them back behind the bleachers and show off increasingly elaborate piles of fabric. They still refused to just tell them what the fuck the mess was supposed to be, only growing more determined to ‘get it right’. But when they had failed by the end of the class, they had actually apologized to them profusely and wished them luck before rushing off to their own classes.
So, by Night Raven boy standards, very fucking weird.
Yuu should have asked at least one of her friends to stay behind in class with them. One of them to act as a buffer against the wide-eyed stares of various first and second-year students who possibly hadn’t seen them yet today. She clicks her tongue, looking around the room and breathing a sigh of relief seeing Ruggie. The hyena beastman had a half-eaten donut shoved in his mouth, slowly chewing to make it disappear, and rifling through his beaten-up bag. And just her luck the seat next to him was empty.
They sat, letting Grim crawl out of their arms and getting comfortable, as much as they could with the cramps slowly returning and the feeling of a moist hand towel against their pussy, “Hey Ruggie.”
“Hey-Hold the fuck on…” Ruggie whips around, looking at them as though they were back from the dead. The hyena leaned closer to them, sniffling deeply before pulling back so hard he almost tipped out of his seat, “By the seven, are you okay!?”
Grim gave Yuu a nervous glance, waving a paw as he tried to warn Ruggie to calm down his concern, “Uh…Hey listen-”
“Ruggie, do you wanna be okay?”
“...” The Savanaclaw sophomore actually looked down, seeming to weigh his options before he looked up and nodded, “Yeah?”
“Okay, then I’m gonna need something from you.”
“Sure! What ya need? You want some water? I think I got a bottle left, hell just take the one I had too. You must be hungry, you’ve probably been working hard all day. Let me see if I got anything in here to eat-”
“Ruggie.” Once Yuu was certain they had his attention, they motioned him to lean closer again. He did, though he looked mildly reluctant to do so. Once he was close enough, Yuu gripped him by the collar and pulled him even closer to whisper, “I want you to shut the fuck up. Just…Just shut the fuck up for the whole class. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Less intensity.”
“Yeah, I can do that…Do you want the water though?”
“...” Yuu sighed. Maybe water would help their growing nausea, “Fine. And a sucker if you got it.”
Ruggie turned and searched through his bag, quickly pulling out a fresh water bottle and a handful of brightly colored suckers to dump on the table, “Here you go. Made them myself. The yellow ones are lemon; you like lemon right-”
���Ruggie.”
“Sorry.” The hyena raised his hands, scooting away as much as he could without pressing against the other student beside him.
The joint history class was passing by. That being the best way Yuu could describe it. Trein’s dry voice, while being the dullest kind of ASMR, was a calming effect to Yuu's thoughts. While it was history here, Yuu couldn't help but hear the lecture as a very detailed fairytale being read aloud in a fancy library. She could feel herself finally relaxing, stomach being only slightly appeased by the sweet-flavored lemon suckers.
If she had bothered to look around, Yuu would have noticed how the beastmen around her were finally calming too. The clearly distressed mood from the Ramshackle prefect doing more damage than she thought it would have.
But the peace was broken, just as Yuu crunched down on their second sucker, the cracking being more audible than they were expecting. But seeing how Trein didn't stop speaking or even turn to them, they grabbed another sucker and started to open it-
“Sensei? Is Ramshackle supposed to be eating?”
It was like time had frozen. Trein’s writing had stopped abruptly, the chalk in hand snapping off in his tightened grip. Every beastman nearly stopped breathing, turning to glare at the Scarabia student who had spoken up.
Ruggie turned to Yuu, opening his mouth to tell them to not mind the student, they could keep eating their sucker. Only to jump back as Yuu stood up, slamming their hands on the table.
Trein felt his face pinch, watching Yuu gather up the half-empty water bottle and numerous unopened suckers. He sighed as Yuu walked toward the small wastebasket by the door, “Yuu, you don’t need to-”
“No, it’s fine!” Yuu shrugged in an almost frantic motion, slamming the water bottle into the wastebasket hard enough the poor plastic bowl had nearly tipped over, “It’s fine. I just can’t fucking have anything!” They had moved onto the suckers, whipping each one into the basket with enough force that everyone was able to hear the candy being broken on impact, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine!” At the end, they simply threw all of the suckers into the trash.
The room remained silent, waiting in bated breath as Yuu stomped back to their seat, ignoring the concerned looks from Grim and Ruggie. Without saying anything, Ruggie slipped his hand into Yuu’s, holding it firmly as a form of silent support. They looked over, expression clear that they were not pleased, but didn’t pull their hand away.
Trein looked over his class. The beastmen not close to Yuu were spending their energy glaring at the student who had spoken up, those closer were trying to subtly pass items to Bucchi. Hidden juice packs, different candies, savory snacks. All things that were forbidden in his classroom besides a Pomefiore beastmen trying to hand over his gallon-sized personalized water bottle. He sighed. If he had the time to properly speak, he would have told the student to pay attention to the lesson and not his classmates sitting silently, minding their own business.
Sighing, he turned back to the board, grabbing a fresh piece of chalk, “Now…as I was saying…”
The lesson continued on, the air clearly tense as Yuu started to tap on their table in an increasingly aggressive manner.
 Trein turns to the class, “Can anyone tell me what was the tactic used in the battle against invaders of the East Kingdom?” Seeing no one raising their hand, he unfortunately fell back on muscle memory. Yuu had shown great promise in his class, excitedly asking questions about historical events and even reading text for the second or third-year classes on their own time. So it didn't occur to him that calling on them in their current state was not the right move to make, “Yuu? Would you care to enlighten the class?”
“...” Yuu stood from their seat, leaving behind a confused Grim and Ruggie, and walked out of the room. The door slamming hard behind them and rattling the surrounding frames.
Trein sighed, turning back to the chalkboard and continued writing, “Does anyone have the answer?”
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The botanical gardens were always pleasant. Perfect temperature no matter the season, full of fresh smelling air. Even when the magical dome had its annual rainshower, Yuu wasn't above gathering their friends and sitting under a tree to chat in the sprinkle. Which is probably why the gardens were the first place their legs took them.
Just where he normally was, Leona laid down with his arms folded under his head in a relaxed pose. The third-year napping peacefully in his patch of overgrown grass. She sat beside Leona, moving to stretch her back as she did during gym.
Leona’s eyes snap open after a few beats of silence. He sat up on his elbows, looking at Yuu with wide eyes, “...” He tilted his head, eyes flickering to their lower body, “Are you okay?”
Yuu sat up, winding back their fist and punched Leona directly in the chest.
“AUH! You little-” Leona had pulled his hand back, fully prepared to backhand Yuu in retaliation before he paused. Taking in Yuu's face, he noted how pathetic they looked even though they were glaring at him. He groaned and clenched his hand tightly. Having to remember his key reasons for not just striking back the non-magical student at every sucker punch Yuu managed to land on him. ‘They were younger than him’. ‘They didn’t have magic’. ‘They knew better than to just hit him, so they clearly want him to do something’. He breathed in, putting his hand back down and raising an eyebrow at the angry scowl on Yuu’s face, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with everyone else!?” Yuu waved their arms around, as though Leona could see the examples all around them, “This whole fucking day, everyone’s been acting so weird! Jack was basically a fucking bodyguard for me during gym! Hell, Ruggie was almost trying to hand-feed me during history!”
Leona mumbled under his breath, realizing just how late in the day it had become, “Fuck, I overslept…”
“Plus, like, I think every beastman is acting like I’m about to explode if they don’t treat me like the most delicate little flower.” Yuu turned to Leona, confusion easily bleeding into their scowl, “Like, what the fuck is going on today!?”
“...” Leona points to between Yuu’s legs, nose wrinkling as he sniffles the air softly “What’s happening down there?”
“I’m on my period…”
“Yeah, because I clearly know what the hell that is, Feral.”
Yuu groans out, the force of it almost making them slump over before they snap back up, “I’m bleeding out my pussy. Don’t freak out, it’s normal for me,”
Leona brought his fingers to his temple, sighing, “Yeah, that’ll do it…”
“Do what!?”
“Send everyone into a fucking panic. You smell like you’re in active labor…” Leona suddenly looked at them from the corner of his eyes, “You aren’t, right? If that lizard actually knocked you up while you’re still in school-”
“I’m not pregnant! This is literally happening because I’m not pregnant!”
Leona leaned away, doing his best to not roll his eyes, “Okay. By the seven…I'm just saying if he did, you can sue him over that.”
“Leona, I'm not suing my boyfriend just because you've got some kinda one-sided blood feud with him.”
“One; it's not one-sided. Two; it's sound legal advice. You two had a binding agreement and if he broke it you have right to-”
“Words can not express how much I want you to shut the fuck up…”
Leaning back, Leona scoffed. Arms going back to their folded position as he reclined on the grass, eyes closing, “Fine. Get fucked over for all I care…” After a beat of silence, he sighs out, cracking an eye to look at Yuu, “What happened? You're supposed to be in history. You're a little goody for Trein normally.”
“...” Yuu sighs, taking the standing silent invitation and laying down beside Leona, hands folded over the growingly tense muscles of their pelvis, “It's just been…a lot today. I can normally handle my period just fine but…” 
The following silence quickly sombered their conversation. Leona gave Yuu his full attention, raising an eyebrow as a silent gesture for Yuu to continue. His concern almost showing on his face when they don’t respond to him, “Yuu-”
“YUU!?”
Leona’s ears press against his head at the yell echoing in the garden. He grumbles under his breath and sits up again, sniffing in the direction of the yell before calling out, “Stop making so much noise. We’re over here.”
Ruggie comes rushing around the corner, Grim just barely hanging onto him from his shoulder. In his arms were blankets and multiple kinds of snacks and drinks, “There you are! Are you ok? Ya hungry? I got some cold juice on the way over here. Leona, how's it looking? Are the contractions far apart still?”
… Yuu rolls over to fully press their face into the ground, frustrated screaming slowly growing in volume as they banged their fists against the grass. Ruggie had attempted to rush over, dropping the bundle in his arms only to be stopped by Leona’s outstretched hand.
“Calm down, she’s not pregnant. Just being a little bitch.”
“Wait, what?”
The screaming had died down, Ruggie and Leona speaking in quick mumbles to each other. Grim slipped off of Ruggie’s shoulder, cautiously nudging at Yuu’s prone arm.
“Hold on…this is normal?”
Leona shrugs, running a hand through his hair as he sighed, “I’m guessing from how pissed they’re being about people worrying over them…” His green eyes looked over Ruggie, noting his empty arms before he scowled, “And where’s my lunch?”
Ruggie rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue and picking at the collar of his too-big button-up, “Well, forgive me for being more worried about the potentially pregnant person about to pop out a baby to get you a damn sandwich…”
“That’s not an excuse to not do your job-”
Grim whined, pushing against Yuu’s arm even harder than before, “Yuuuuuu! Come on, henchman, I'm hungry! Don’t you wanna go get lunch-”
“NO!” Yuu snaps up, their yelling sending Grim rolling away from them and scrambling to hide behind an equally stunned Leona and Ruggie, “No! I wanna take a shit and die. Just fucking pass away from the mortal coil!”
“Yuu-”
“It shouldn’t be this fucking hard!” Yuu pulled themselves up from the ground, kneeling as they look at their hands, trying to find the answers to their boiling-over questions and concerns, “It’s normal! It’s fucking basic as fuck for me normally! Periods shouldn’t be this hard, things shouldn’t be this hard!”
Ruggie and Leona share a look with each other, the second-year trying to step closer, “Hey, bud, it’s okay-”
“IT’S NOT RUGGIE, AND THAT’S THE PROBLEM!” Yuu was almost shaking from the force of their welling emotions, “Everyone is acting like something’s wrong! And that has never happened to me past just ‘Oh fuck, your period started? You need a tampon?’ And that’s it! Like, I knew things were different here, obviously. But I don’t think about it, you know? But now I am because everyone is acting weird when it’s just my period, it's not a big deal! But it is a big deal here! A lot of shit is a big deal here. And I'm thinking about where I came from a lot now and holy shit, I'm never gonna see those people or places again. And I'm okay with that! But, oh my fucking God, I am craving comforts and shit that I'm never going to have again. And I'm spiraling thinking about the few things I do regret and how I'm never gonna be able to fix them, I won't even get to try! Does anyone even know I'm gone? Did anyone care? I'm in a place where I don't actually exist, bleeding out my pussy with basically no support, and I'm realizing I have never felt more alone.”
The only sound was Yuu’s harsh breathing, the magicless human trying to take deep breaths to calm her rolling stomach and fight against the tears threatening to spill. The three males all shared a look, having a silent conversation with a series of eyebrow raises and glares. In the end Leona sighed, leaning over to place a hand on Yuu’s shoulder.
“Oi…Feral…You okay?”
“...Yeah…” Yuu’s face pinches up, a single sound of struggle slipping out as she shook her head, “No…” Turning, she dry heaved into the grass.
“Oh, by the Seven…” Leona moved, reaching over and pulling Yuu’s hair back in time for them to let out a wet-sounding retch that finally brought up a bit of watery bile. He held their hair, silently directing Ruggie to wrap up the food items in one of the many blankets. He only looked back to Yuu once the vomiting had stopped, helping them to sit up, “Feel better now?”
Yuu looked at Leona, tears clear in their eyes and quickly losing the fight to not cry. They shake their head again, tilting it down as they whimper, “I wanna go home…”
“Alright…” Leona slips his arms around Yuu’s body, easily scooping the smaller into his hold and cradling them close, “You shoulda stayed home in the first place…”
“Shut up…”
Leona looks to Ruggie, using one of his hands to grip the makeshift bag of treats, “Watch the weasel, I'm taking them home.” He made his way out of the garden, calling over his shoulder, “And you better have my lunch by the time I’m back!”
Ruggie sighed, sharing a look with Grim before he gave a disgusted look to the puddle of vomit on the ground, “I should find a hose or something to clean this up…smells awful-”
“Uh…Ruggie?” Once Grim was sure he had the hyena’s attention he pointed a paw to the top of the greenhouse dome, noting the fast-rolling dark clouds, sparks of green lightning seen inside them, “Should we be worried about that…?”
“...Fuck…”
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“Cozy?” Leona pulled away, making sure Yuu was completely covered by the blanket. The prefect was curled up on the couch, sniffling and getting themselves fully comfortable before nodding their head, “Good.” Leona pulled a basket closer, the snacks Ruggie had gathered filling it almost to the top as he offered a juice box to them.
Yuu took the box, the tops of their arms leaving the warmth of the blankets to open the drink. Sipping once from the tiny straw, before speaking, “Thank you…”
“Yeah, yeah. You owe me for this. Coming to school when you were basically sick and then throwing a tantrum like that…you know better, Feral.” but looking at Yuu's pitiful face, he felt his own frown soften. Kneeling down, he pets at Yuu's head, subtly checking for a fever, “...Are you gonna be alright alone?” he asked it so softly Yuu almost missed it.
They smile, sniffling and wiping at their eyes, “Yeah…I think I just need a good cry…if it gets bad, I'll call someone. Promise.”
He nods his head, standing up and walking to the doorway of the lounge, “On or off?” At Yuu's soft call of ‘off’, he flipped the light switch. With the room in darkness, Leona gave one last grunt of goodbye, walking away as he heard Yuu's silent crying turn to choked-back sobs.
Outside of Ramshackle, he noted the shift in weather. The clouds he had noticed on the walk in had completely taken over the sky, still rolling like the bubbles of an overheating potion. And as he stepped onto the path leading away from the building, he saw a growing spark of green lightning. The lights crackling and seeming to follow the path of something, or rather someone walking in the direction to Ramshackle.
Leona sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking forward. Seems like he'd have to be the one to talk to Malleus…
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kitchenisking · 6 months
Text
Sterek Fic Rec
Seventh Night of Chunnuka
I Howl When We're Apart by victurius - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,433, sterek)
In which Derek takes possessiveness to a whole new level...
A Window to His Soul by OKDeanna - (Rating: T, Words: 3,627, sterek)
When Stiles takes a tumble in the Preserve, it's Derek who helps pull him back up to safety, making Stiles realize just how often the other man has managed to save him. How much they've managed to save each other... while somehow avoiding the one thing they both seem to want the most.
Until now.
Timeline: Post Series - Movie? What Movie?
Where The Wild Things Are by DeadWalker - (Rating: T, Words: 30,049, sterek)
Derek finds a boy in the woods. He might not have realized it then, but that is the moment his whole life changes.
Mountain To Hide Behind by Hedwig221b - (Rating: T, Words: 3,352, sterek)
“Did you honestly think Stiles wouldn’t notice your absence? He can’t even stomach his dinner, because he knows you’re busy fucking side-chicks as he does so.”
A stunned silence filled the room.
Right then, faced with the sentence he was too scared to even think of, Stiles realized he couldn’t take it anymore. At his first mortifying quiet sniff, Derek swerved around to look at him.
He looked horrified.
Once Upon a Dream by gryvon - (Rating: T, Words: 14,043, sterek)
Stiles has been dreaming of the Hale family burning alive since he was a child. After being locked in Eichen for a year, Stiles learns to keep his visions to himself. That doesn't stop him from keeping an eye on Derek Hale while he waits for Kate Argent to make her move. Only watching Derek becomes loving Derek and stopping Derek and Kate from getting together turns into Stiles dating Derek Hale. He's in love with Derek but his visions haven't stopped, only now he has to watch Derek die with the rest of his family. He'll do anything to keep that dream from becoming reality.
A Letter From Mom by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 32,906, sterek)
After waking up at the age of 11 without any memories of his past Stiles spends eight years with his father in the tiny town of Shelter Cove, California. After his father's death he receives a notice from a storage facility in some town called Beacon Hills. Stiles is confused and thinks the manager made a mistake until he finds a letter that should have been for his 18th birthday that his dad never gave him. It's from his mother, who he has no memory of. Weirdly enough, her letter mentions Beacon Hills and some woman named Talia, who he's supposed to trust. Confused and angry at his father, Stiles sets out for Beacon Hills anxious and determined to find out what his dad had been hiding from him all these years.
Gimme Shelter by SophieTrancy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 22,910, sterek)
Things aren’t exactly going Stiles’ way. With all the bad things that have happened in BH, Stiles seeks refuge with the only person Stiles truly trusts. Derek. Stiles left everything behind, finding shelter in Derek’s home in a small town away from everyone. In a mix of bottled up feelings, lust and traumatizing pasts, they find peace in each other. 
Set after season 5A - My take on their 'Sterek' happy ending
Rumble by clairell - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,405, sterek)
Derek and Stiles have sex during a thunderstorm.
Say My Name by Giggles96 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,867, sterek)
Prompt: Can you please pretty please write something where Stiles is unable to call Derek anything other than daddy or da-da? Please oh my God, please? Prefer it to be sexual but non-sexual’s fine too.
When a witch’s curse renders Stiles unable to refer to Derek as anything other than Daddy, it never occurs to anyone that Derek may just have been granted his deepest, darkest wish.
Love You in the Dark by thedevilyousay - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,682, sterek)
Prompt: Person B knowing they’re undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they’re bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out.
It’s the ringtone that wakes him. He’s only been asleep for an hour or two, maybe, and to his sleep deprived brain it’s the most obnoxious noise he’s ever heard. He blindly flails for the phone, knows it’s buried some where in the bed. He finally finds it mid chorus, “got my heartbeat running away” still echoing as he slides to answer.
" What?” He snarls.
“Derek! Derek. H-hey, hey, were you asleep? I figured you’d still be awake but I’m going to guess you were asleep because of your voice and I –“
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lya-dustin · 2 months
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The Last Wolf of Lankiveil
Part 2 of Queen of Light, King of Darkness ft the poll thanks to @jennathearcher @lady-phasma for the idea of the were-feyd fic
Taglist: @avidreader73 @emilykaldwen @cljordan-imperium @beebeechaos @dunefandomhub
Cw: murder, blood, lycanthropy
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For all his reputation as a Beast and Count of Lankiveil, Glossu Rabban had not inherited their mother’s true nature thanks to their father’s wretched human blood.
Feyd Rautha had inherited more than just Onir Rautha's name, he had inherited his lycanthropy.
A true Beast, like those who ruled Lankiveil's icy lands before the Harkonnen's hunted them to extinction.
A shame his mother had to die to keep his true nature a mystery from his beloved uncle. As his mother’s son, Feyd will make sure her death wasn’t in vain.
The universe will be ruled by the last Wolf of Lankiveil.
And for that to happen, Paul Atreides and his wife, Feyd’s own sister-in-law had to die. He’d done away with Atreides’ pet and the bastard in her belly, and you deserved a gift as magnificent as the one you gave him that morning in Arrakis.
“We were hoping you could join us for a hunt in my son’s honor.” Feyd gives no indication of what he has planned for the Muad’Dib and the wife he refuses to even touch.
It is not that difficult; his wolf form could not be sensed, and he had received enough training to hone the abilities that would have created the Kwisatz Haderach. He can hide from their visions and escape their control completely.
“I am sure my wife longs to see her sister and our nephew again. We will be there, cousin.” Paul’s eyes hold some suspicion, but their alliance has chipped away at most of it. As far as his cousin knows, Feyd is a simple man with simple pleasures. Give him something to respect in you and a weapon in his hands and he will massacre entire planets in your name.
But the young baron is a father now and his perfect little heir can’t aspire to be his uncle’s heir when his lady mother is far more deserving of the Throne.
You, his Queen of Light, his Nurbanu, deserved the universe.
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There is something other about him. Something related to his violent nature and the moon.
You had heard the rumors of the lycanthropy that plagued House Rabban, but one thing was hearing stories about the wolves of Lankiveil and another one was seeing her husband leave for a hunt on a full moon and hear a wolf’s howl unlike aby you’ve ever heard.
Irulan and Paul would be visiting some village across the forest that had myths of the Kwisatz Haderach they wanted to take advantage of.
You weren’t supposed to follow, you were supposed to stay home with Murad who would turn one year old tomorrow. But you wanted to confirm your suspicions.
You arrive at the village to find it in chaos. It had been destroyed as if something ravaged it and its people. Like a one man army.
“The Wolf of Lankiveil!” they shout in fear and adoration. “The Kwisatz Haderach has been destroyed!”
Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate your sister. She annoyed you and stood between you and your throne, but you didn’t hate her. And while you knew this day would come, you knew you would feel terrible for murdering her.
Feyd didn’t understand that part, he didn’t have a single positive memory of his brother nor any chance to be a friend to anyone.
You find the wolf at the edge of the village and you smile at the sight of him.
Your guards beg you to keep away, fearing what would happen if the wolf carried you off.
None recognize the blue human eyes in the wolf.
Your Feyd, your husband.
You believed yourself immune to him, that his violence would keep you from ever falling in love with him, but in the end he grew on you. Like mold on rotten fruit.
“So this is where you went off to, dear husband?” you ask the man beast covered in the blood of innocents.
Come with me.
No need to tell you twice. In a fluid movement you’ve gotten on his back and he takes off at breakneck speeds.
It is thrilling, to feel the icy wind around you as you use all your abilities to remain in place. You can hear his laugh echo in yours as you ride through the woods.
Not long after the wolf begins to shift, the fur thinning, the canine body losing its structure in favor of something human like and soon you arrive to his hideout clutching his back. You must look ridiculous piggybacking a bloody and very naked Feyd.
“Did you like your gift, wife?” his black teeth still have blood from where he tore apart his victims and the red staining his snow like skin paints a beautiful picture.
“How could I not, my baron?” you kiss his bloody mouth and show how much you love his gift, how much you love him.
Your daughter ,Asena Rautha, conceived that night, is born a wolf.
Just like her father.
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