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aylish91 · 2 years ago

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New chapter incoming!!

Sea Of Hope Chapter 8

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!

Story below or AO3 above.

~~~

While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship.

The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”

Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead.

Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”

Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.”

“Been busy.”

“AS WE’VE ALL.”

Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down.

“Petty bastard.”

“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”

“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth.

“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH."

Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.”

“Bastard never does anything fer free.”

“And Yet, He Has A Point.”

Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.

It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.

It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger.

“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door.

You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels.

You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright.

Didn’t Rus call him a lord...?

Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze.

“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.”

You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...

By the angel, what would Axe think of all this?

Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.”

It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly.

Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier.

You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.

Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back.

One more breath.

The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.

The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor.

If only it wasn’t so short.

Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.

“I’m dressed, my lord.”

A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back.

“AS I EXPECTED.”

You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket.

You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist.

“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…”

Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath.

Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck.

You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.

“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!”

Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?”

Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”

Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.

“Sure that's all ya were doin’?”

The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—”

“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?”

With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–”

Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.”

His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?”

There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway.

“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”

Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you.

The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway.

You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under.

You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.

The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter.

Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over.

You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken?

...

A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks.

You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused.

Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.”

Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.”

You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.”

It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.

“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.

Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.

“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”

Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.”

“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.”

You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.”

Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?”

You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.

When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.”

You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.

It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness.

You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.

Blessedly, he turned to wait for you.

It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum.

His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.”

Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before.

With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously.

You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall.

You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain.

Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump.

“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.”

When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist.

“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”

With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

��

It was frightening, alone in the dark.

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

#sea of hope #aoi kanna #my writing #undertale #undertale au #piratetale #multiple aus #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #horrortale #underfell #underswap #swapfell #ao3 undertale #ao3 fanfic #undertale fanfiction #skelereader #skeleton reader

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 7 months ago

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Imagine Kaido sees potential in you and drafting you into his crew

You and your comrades: [defending your home by successfully holding off the Tobiroppo]

Kaido: hmm [evaluating your fighting techniques from a distance]

King: They're taking too long to get this over with. [Draws his sword and advances on your homes]

You: [watches King taking down your friends one by one using his fire, ] I need to do something, [looks around to see only a small fishpond in a neighbor's yard]

King: [sends a blast of flames in the direction of someone's home, only to stumble back in surprise when you leap through his flames, landing on his chest, with your weapons poised to gouge out his eyes.]

Kaido: King, stop, I want that one alive.

King: [grabs you, and holds you at arm's length, stunned you're alive,] Why the hell would you want this one alive!?

Kaido: Think about it. How many people can you say, with certainty, have been brave enough to charge your fire attacks, let alone come out unscathed?

King: [eyes you with irritation] Not a single person.

You: Fuck both of you, put me down! [narrowly miss clipping King's mask with your weapon]

Kaido: I think we've found the most valuable thing in this village, there is no need to waste any more time here.

King: [huffs in frustration before turning to the crew] Alright, it's time to pull back, Kaido has what he's looking for.

Sasaki: Ehh! But there is still so much we could take! We found a whole cellar of booze.

Kaido: [looks at you out of the corner of his eye before making up his mind] Leave it.

Black Maria: This isn't like you at all, leaving booze behind, I hope you'll share with me what's happening.

Kaido: What's going on is I want this one to join our crew [tossing his thumb over his shoulder, in your direction]

You and the Beast Pirate crew: WHAT!

You: Why would I join your crew?

Kaido: Not would, will. You will join my crew. Also, if you do, I will not only leave your village alone, it will fall under my protection, and I won't tax them.

King: You're not gonna even tax them a little bit?

Kaido: Not if they accept my deal.

You: [grits your teeth] Fine.

Kaido: Okay then, let's move out.

On Kaido's Ship

King: how did you make it through my fire?

You: I used Leidenfrosts effect in a two-part defense. I grabbed a quilt my neighbor had hanging out to dry on their laundry line, then dowsed it and myself in a nearby fishpond. I climbed up on the roof and used the quilt to make it through the brunt of your attack, to jump off the roof. When the water evaporated, I then tossed the quilt to the side and attacked you.

King: Leidenfrost effect?

You: When your fire hit me, it rapidly evaporated the water, creating a protective layer of steam around me. I wasn't sure it'd even work, I figured, fuck it, it was worth a shot. [shrugs]

Kaido: [cackles] I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.

King: so you damn near beheaded me with science?... I think I'm starting to see what Kaido sees in you.

You: please don't

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #beast pirates #kaido #kaidou #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #sasaki #black maria #animal kingdom pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #no beta we die like men

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alisonwritesimagines · 7 months ago

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I'm Wonderstruck, Blushing All the Way Home ~LA!Shanks x Reader~

Summary: You and Shanks grow close when you're not watching Luffy.

Author’s Note: My coworker is almost caught up with the anime One Piece which I think is crazy and impressive.

Part of the Enchanted Series

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: candy store -tooth rotting fluff

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You sat on Shanks's desk as he sat on his chair in front of you. After exploring his ship, the two of you made it over to his quarters where you two got to know each other more.

"So how did you get that scar?" You asked him as you lightly touched the scars that ran below his eye.

"One of Whitebeard's crewmate's did this to me," Shanks told you.

"Makes you look tough," you tell him.

"You think so? Not handsome?"

"Well that too," you say.

“Do you have any scars?” Shanks asked you.

“Just small ones from my clumsiness. Nothing interesting like yours,” you tell him.

“So what do you think of my ship?” Shanks asked as he leaned back against his chair.

“I like it.”

“Maybe when Luffy’s old enough, you can join me in sailing around the world? Look for the one piece?” Shanks asked you.

“I don’t like the sea,” you tell him as you shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid of what lies beneath the waters. It’s just a little too scary for me,” you tell him.

“And what if I tell you that a pirate like myself will never let you get hurt?”

“You can make the promise but can you keep it?” You asked.

“I’m a man of my word,” Shanks smiled at you.

“I’ll think about it.”

You looked out the window to see that it was already dark.

"I should probably get back home," you tell him as you got off his desk.

"You could stay the night if you like," Shanks offered.

"I think you're moving a little too soon," you tease.

"You can take my bed and if it makes you feel better, I can sleep somewhere else," Shanks insisted.

"Slept in worse places?" You asked him.

"You have no idea."

"Well, a strong and brave pirate like you can walk me home right?" You asked him.

"I certainly can," Shanks said.

The moment you stepped out of his room, the cold air hit you unexpectedly. You shivered a little but felt warmth again when Shanks put his cape around you. You smiled up at him as you both began to walk back to your home.

"You're not what I expected," you tell him.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes. The pirates I've met have been horrible," you explain.

"I'm glad I'm able to prove to you that not all pirates are bad."

"Me too. Will you be coming back to our village after your next journey?" You asked him.

"For you? Yes. I don't want anyone else taking a treasure like yourself away from me," Shanks says. You felt your face heat up from his words. You hid your face with his cape so he wouldn't see your wide smile.

"Well, this is me. Will I see you tomorrow?" You asked Shanks as you approached your home.

"Can't go without a goodbye," Shanks tells you. You began to take off his cape but Shanks stopped you.

"Keep it for tonight. Give us another reason to see each other tomorrow," Shanks tells you.

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight Shanks," you say before kissing his cheek. You quickly opened your door before hiding inside.

You could hide your smile from behind the door as you could feel yourself fall for Shanks a little more.

Today was your last day off before you had to watch Luffy again. You headed to Shanks's ship where you found his crew getting ready to set sail again.

"Shanks is in his quarters if you're looking for him," one of his crew members tells you with a wink.

"Thank you," you smile before heading over.

You knocked on Shanks's door before opening it.

"Hi," you say once you saw him.

"Hi," Shanks smiled as he walked over to you.

"Came to bring your cape back and brought you some food for the trip," you tell him as you placed a box of food on his desk. You took off his cape and handed it back to him.

"Thank you. We appreciate it," Shanks tells you.

"I guess I'll see you when you come back?" You asked him.

"We'll be back soon."

"Be safe," you tell him.

"You know, you should keep the cape warm for me," Shanks tells you as he put the cape back onto you.

"You're gonna come back for it right?" You asked.

"That. And you," Shanks said.

"I shouldn't keep you waiting. I need to go get some stuff ready before Luffy comes back tomorrow," you tell him before beginning to leave.

"Wait."

You felt Shanks grab your hand before pulling you back over to him. He cupped your cheeks before kissing you on the lips. You kissed him back until you had to pull away for air.

"I'll be waiting for you," you tell him.

"And I'll come back for you," Shanks tells you. You smile up at him before giving him one more kiss.

"Come back to me soon."

"And when I do, why don't we go on a proper date?" Shanks asked.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him. Shanks gave you one more kiss before walking you out.

"Tell Luffy I'll see him when I come back. I know he'll love to hear my stories when I come back," Shanks tells you.

"I will. Stay safe," you tell him.

"For you," Shanks said before kissing you once more.

#red hair shanks #red hair shanks imagine #red hair shanks x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks imagine #akagami no shanks #akagami no shanks x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #enchanted universe #alisonwritesimagines

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dovesdreaming · 2 months ago

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Pirates charm

Summary: You’re the daughter of Meg and Hercules, everyone always compares you to your mother saying your exactly like her. You couldn’t deny it either especially with how you wouldn’t let yourself swoon for Harry hook.

Requested

Masterlist

Being the daughter of Meg and Hercules wasn’t easy. On one hand, you were expected to live up to your father’s reputation. The strong, brave hero of Olympus who could move mountains and defeat titans. People looked at you like you were supposed to be just like him- noble, pure, a shining example of what a demigod should be. But on the other hand, you were also Meg’s daughter. And that meant you were sarcastic, quick-witted, and more than a little cynical. If your dad was all about heroism, you were about surviving in a world where happy endings didn’t always happen. Your mother had made sure you understood that. She’d been there, done that, and wasn’t about to let you fall into the same traps she had.

You were, as people liked to say, the spitting image of Meg. From your sharp wit to the way you carried yourself, always with a knowing smirk and a hint of sass in your voice. You weren’t a wide-eyed optimist like so many people in Auradon. No, you knew better than that. Which was why Auradon Prep had become.. a little boring. The whole "perfect world" thing? Yeah, it got pretty old fast. Sure, there were plenty of bright, smiling faces and happily-ever-afters, but after a while, it all felt a bit fake. Like everyone was just pretending everything was perfect all the time. You needed something different. Something real. And then… Harry Hook showed up.

The first time you met Harry, you were standing by the docks, watching the Isle of the Lost kids as they arrived on their ship. Ben had done his whole "integration" thing, and now, here they were, villains' kids walking the pristine streets of Auradon. It was all very dramatic, with people whispering and staring at the new arrivals, like they were some kind of dangerous animals let loose in a zoo. You didn’t care about most of them. But then, you saw him. Harry Hook.

With his long coat, swaggering walk, and that trademark hook hanging from his hand, he made quite the entrance. His sharp blue eyes scanned the crowd, taking everything in like he was already planning his next move. His smirk was lazy, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you raise an eyebrow. And when his gaze landed on you? Oh, he noticed you too. His eyes flicked over your figure, taking in the sharpness of your features, the confidence in the way you stood. Unapologetic, like you didn’t care what anyone thought. It was enough to make him pause for a second, his smirk faltering before returning even wider.

“Aye, what do we have here?” he murmured as he sauntered over to you, his voice dripping with a Scottish lilt that sounded both amused and intrigued. “Didn’t know Auradon had girls like you”.

You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down. “What? You thought we were all sunshine and rainbows?” He grinned, his hook tapping against his side as he stopped in front of you. “Somethin’ like that. But I think ye’re more storm clouds, lass. And I like that”. You gave him a dry smile, the corner of your lips lifting. “I aim to disappoint”. Harry’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. “Ah, ye’re trouble, aren’t ye? I can tell”. You shrugged, glancing at him with a bored expression. “If you’re looking for damsels in distress, you might want to look elsewhere”. “Damsels?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk full of mischief. “I don’t do damsels. I like girls who fight back”. You tilted your head, feigning interest. “Good, because I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than need saving”.

He laughed, a deep sound that was rough around the edges, like he wasn’t used to laughing much. But there was something about you that seemed to break through his usual bravado. “Aye, I can tell”. After that, it was like a game between the two of you. Wherever you were, Harry wasn’t far behind, and every time he tried his usual pirate charm on you, you gave it right back with a smart remark or a sarcastic quip. He’d call you “lass” and you’d call him “Hook” with a roll of your eyes, but beneath all the teasing, there was something else. Something you weren’t quite ready to name.

Because despite all the back-and-forth banter, Harry Hook was different from the others. He wasn’t like the perfect princes of Auradon, who threw themselves at you with grand gestures and shining armor. No, Harry was raw. Real. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t, and he didn’t expect you to either.You liked that about him, even if you’d never admit it.

One afternoon, you found yourself sitting by the lake, enjoying some peace and quiet when you heard footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was “Should’ve guessed you’d be here” you said, not even turning around as you leaned back on your elbows. Harry sat down next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. “Can’t help meself” he said with a grin. “Ye’re just too much fun to annoy”. You glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. “If this is your idea of fun, you need a hobby”.

“Oh, I’ve got hobbies” he replied, his voice teasing. “But ye’re definitely the most interestin’ one so far”. You rolled your eyes, fighting back the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “You must be really bored”. Harry chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted, turning more serious. “Ye know, ye’re different from the rest of ‘em”.

That caught your attention. You turned to him, curious. “What do you mean?” He tapped his hook lightly against his leg, looking out at the water. “Auradon, it’s full of people pretendin’ to be somethin’ they’re not. All smiles and pretendin’ everythin’ is perfect. But you?” He looked at you with those intense blue eyes. “Ye don’t pretend. Ye’re real”.’You blinked, not expecting the honesty in his words. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long deflecting with sarcasm and wit that someone seeing through you like that threw you off balance. “I’m just me” you finally said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “Nothing special”. Harry’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s where ye’re wrong, lass”.

There was something in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t used to this, this raw, unfiltered honesty. People didn’t talk like that in Auradon. They didn’t look at you like they could see right through the mask. But Harry did. And, gods help you, you liked it. You cleared your throat, breaking the tension. “And here I thought pirates only cared about treasure”. Harry smirked, his teasing nature slipping back into place. “Aye, well, maybe I found somethin’ better”. Your heart did another unexpected flip at that, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you gave him a lopsided smile. “If you think I’m going to swoon, you’ve got another thing coming”. Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t want ye any other way”.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, the sound of the water lapping against the shore filling the space between you. For once, there were no quips, no banter just a quiet understanding. Maybe you and Harry weren’t so different after all. Maybe, beneath the sarcasm and smirks, you were both just looking for something real. And maybe, just maybe, you’d found it in each other.

Thank you for reading!!

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empresskylo · 1 year ago

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4 ⬅ch. 3

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

...al mazrah…

you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal.

you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick.

“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”

“that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath.

soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”

“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones.

ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.

it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.

and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said.

“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind.

you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange.

“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear.

your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.

“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”

you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap.

“shit that was close!” another voice spoke.

and then, an urgent “second missile!”

you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.

“oh fuck…!”

“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”

your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths.

“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear.

you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.

“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.

“alpha, what’s your status?”

coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms.

“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency.

“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”

you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart.

“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine.

“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.

“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”

“roger that.”

“let’s move.”

ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost.

“force up to the house.” ghost whispered.

you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see.

the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves.

suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .

you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.

the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes.

“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.

you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees.

“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said.

another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”

“rog,” ghost grunted.

you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers.

“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted.

you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls.

“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”

you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly.

“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.

ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”

you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway.

shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.

soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did.

“prep for breach,” ghost said.

“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded.

he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves.

you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you.

“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted.

you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!”

“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room.

you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range.

you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”

a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel.

you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap.

you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone.

“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear.

“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.

“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear.

“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”

soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?”

the man nodded.

“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded.

“let’s go,” soap said down to you.

you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.

it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.

“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.”

you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.

you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you.

“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.

you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft.

“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said.

“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window.

as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly.

“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”

your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways.

“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”

you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window.

“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay.

however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him.

“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.

after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull.

“we clear?” soap asked.

“for now…” ghost replied.

you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out.

“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay.

“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said.

“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily.

soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”

you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.

the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you.

“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you.

“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours.

soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”

ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.

it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building.

soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said.

glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down.

“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance.

you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan.

“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute.

“negative on hassan,” soap replied.

you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.

“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him.

“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said.

arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion.

“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds.

ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free.

the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance.

“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.

the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness.

“wha–”

ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that.

your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you.

you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.

why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall.

a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go.

“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.

you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.

“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head.

well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own.

ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest.

oh my god, you thought.

you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate.

a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.

you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.

your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.

ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them.

oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!

ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours.

you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank.

“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears.

ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range.

it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.

“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained.

you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied.

ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time.

“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered.

“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough.

ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”

you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down.

jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes.

you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…”

you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off.

“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends.

“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio.

you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here.

“so he was here,” you muttered.

“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.

“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.

ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that.

“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms.

ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”

you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”

“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”

ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”

you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside.

you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse.

“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion.

you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision.

shit, shit, shit.

your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground.

“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath.

before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.

it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly.

you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.

you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement.

ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise.

his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”

you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you.

“hassan,” you said meekly.

ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact.

“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”

your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”

“already alerted.”

you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it.

ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.”

you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches.

day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest.

you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle.

you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance.

fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee.

you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first.

his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them.

you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really.

you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled.

you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap.

you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion.

you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.

he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you.

you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.

you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.

you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back.

chapter 5 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 months ago

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Rotten Hope (2)

Author’s note: Part two of the Typhus x Reader fics. I blame you all for the botflies that have spawned because of this. this 4,595 words long. Why has this man infested my brain so much? HELP Previous

Tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: dubious consent, attempted seduction, forced marriage (In that Typhus decides that you and him are married now), body horror, tentacles, oviposition, SMUT, mild cumflation, demon bees, please ask me to tag anything that makes you uncomfortable that I missed

Summary: You are brought to Typhus the traveler, herald of Nurgle, to speak with him. You get far more than what you bargained for.

You could keenly sense Typhus' presence upon this world. The powerful deamon marine of nurgle wasn't bothering to hide nor dim his curdling presence to your senses as you left the space port where your ship had been docked. Your ship - what used to be your ship - was a swift vessel that did have enough ammunition to defend itself against most pirates and would be attackers. Not that they could fend off the full might of a Gloriana class vessel, Her speed could fly circles around the much larger but slower vessel. You were also hoping that they would be focused on the suffering and agonizing souls were being ravaged by the plague, rather than a single vessel of healthy, un-touched souls.

As you make your way through the streets of the city, you watch as the plague marines and cultists go from door to door, bearing bowls of horrific looking and smelling liquid that bubbled and glorped unpleasantly. the ragged, sickly and confused mortals peering blearily at them, falling to their knees and thankful for the stew given to them, drinking gratefully as the foul substance seemed to soothe the ragged edges of madness that was part of the dreadful blight that had taken so many of the mortals of this world. You look away, focusing on moving through the streets of the city, hearing the grateful murmurings of the mortals around you, tears falling from your eyes as you knew that the horrid stew that they were gratefully drinking would bind them to the Plaguefather.

Ah... But you'd been the one to bring these bastards here. You'd been so relieved to have found an Astartes, you'd forgotten to check if he was chaos-tainted or not, having forgotten that not all of them followed the will of their creator in your desperate search for any kind of help... And you'd found help, as the violent madness did seem to fade from the minds of the afflicted as you carefully move across barricades, still in your hazmat suit, silently hoping that the uninfected mortals realized that Plague Marines had come to this world and they had ways to flee this world, this system before they were caught and either killed painfully or turned to Nurgle's side.

You knew that you'd been spotted hours ago, and stopped at the edge of the barricade that had been set up by the Death Guard and their accompanying cultists, despair and misery pulling at your heart as you see that the healthy mortals were being stripped of their protective gear and dragged across the barrier one at a time, being taken to where Typhus was. You swallow down the desire to flee, to hide. He knew you were on this world. You had no safe way off of this world, and if you willingly revealed your presence, perhaps you could have the remaining healthy mortals spared from the predations of the plague-ridden neverborn. You walk up to two of the guards as they glare down at the trembling, weeping mortals and call out as bravely as you can manage out "Excuse me -" Your eyes flicker over the corroded metal and twisted heraldry that both of the plague marines were wearing, searching for any clue as to what either of their ranks were. Aha! You spotted it, under the grime and muck "Sergeant, but I need to speak with your first captain, he is expecting me."

The Death Guard on the left leaned on his scythe a little, looking you up and down "The first captain won't see anyone in clothes like that, it's rude. He also said that he gave the one he's looking for a certain phrase to prove themself to be the eternal blossom he seeks?"

You swallow hard as you reach up and take off your helmet, doing your best to keep eye contact with the large marine, ignoring the horrified gasps from the mortals around you.

"No! Lady Trader, do not-" One of the scientists pleaded, running towards you and breaking the line that they'd been put in, trying to reach for your helmet.

Two of the cultists rushed the scientist who'd grabbed you and hauled them back into line, giggling madly "Now, now, don't be impatient! Grandfather is happy to bless all of you, you just need to be patient!"

"He said... He said that Typhus asked me, little Isha, to come to him while our minds touched one another." You respond, doing your best to keep your voice as even and confident as you can manage. Your grip on the hazmat helmet is tight, but you hope that they don't notice that.

Both Death Guards grin - their fused facial plates splitting open into needle-sharp maws with dozens of spiraling rows of teeth, and the mouths on their bellies opening up and laughing raucously "So he did, little blossom! Remove the rest of your protective coverings and one of our brothers will bring you to the Herald."

You nod, stripping out of the rest of the hazmat suit as quickly as you could force yourself to move, now dressed in the shirt, shorts and shoes you'd picked specifically because it would get very warm in the hazmat suit if you dressed too warmly. It was early spring in this hemisphere and in the blood-red dawn of day it was chilly, causing you to shake and shiver in the cold. "I have done as you asked."

"Darsas! Eleghra, the eternal flower has revealed herself at the gate and is prepared to meet Older Brother." One of the guards calls out.

Moments later, two massive, mutated plague marines walk up to you, one of them on each of your sides and pick you up bodily, walking you into the secondary area. You're set down before a half-dozen Nurglite cultists who begin to frisk you for weapons - as if you could physically stand up to the might of a standard marine, much less a favored chaos marine of one of the Four - before saying "She is ready to see The Herald."

You are physically picked up and carried over to a large, grimy tent where a massive marine is partially bent over a large table, speaking with the plague riddled governor and highest-ranking nobles of the half-dozen worlds under siege of this awful plague, each of the latter looking terrified and resigned. All of them look stunned to see you - and that you are whole and healthy, especially in the grasp of a plague marine. You should be in paroxysms of pain, gasping and spluttering as the infested flies that buzz around their supernaturally fucked up bodies devour from the inside out.

Despite his helmet hiding whatever facial expressions he might be making, you could feel the satisfaction and delight that Typhus oozes as his gaze falls upon you, dangled in the grasp of two of his brothers. "Excellent! I was hoping that you wouldn't be stubborn nor skittish, little Isha-"

At that... Petname? Lord Alleg'fel spluttered, his abhuman (not Eldar) pointed ears twitching a little, dark eyes widening in horror "L...Little what?"

"Mmm, I am surprised that you are unaware of the eternal flower in your midst. Such beings tend to be shy and hide themselves well, unless forced out into the open." Typhus purrs "While she is able to die, her soul returns to her mortal form swiftly, unable to truly die. She is blessed with psykery and an eternally youthful body. This lovely, shy flower was hidden amongst your worlds. Grandfather blessed me with her near location and we created this plague to bring all of you into Grandfather's loving embrace... And to bring her out of hiding. Grandfather noted that I had been... Lonely, wishing for a companion similar to the companionship He enjoys with Grandmother, and pointed us in this lovely flower's direction. You are dismissed. My little flower and I need to... Talk... Privately."

Slow burning horror and guilt would have caused you to crumple to the ground, despair and fury hitting you moments later. You'd done your best to stay out of the greater Game that was being played between The Four and Neoth, and had thought that you'd been largely successful. You hadn't realized that all of this was to trap you in one place, so that... What? You'd become a plaything for the favored pawn of Nurgle? As if you were going to lay down and meekly take whatever awful horrors he was going to do to you. A low, furious growl left your chest as your eyes began to flash the bright shining blue of warpcraft, your hands beginning to crackle with the power you'd long since learned to master, your voice booming with fury "IF YOU THINK-" you started to yell, the eldritch lightning sparking around your form painful enough to cause the two plague marines to drop you to the ground. You land on your feet, hissing wordlessly, ready to fight to your death over and over again.

But Typhus cut off your words "Come now, you asked for my help, little flower, and I have given it. Besides, I even ensured that the plague that ravaged these worlds did not affect the mortals you are closest to, despite them being exposed to it."

Horror hit you, cooling your fury like a deluge of ice on a lava flow "What.... What do you mean?"

"Come now, did you really think that mundane methods of infection prevention can actually stop one of Grandfather's plagues? Surely you're more clever - or at least not that naive, my lovely flower. Although it would be very cute if you are. they live healthy and untainted as a favor to you." Typhus crooned, all but teleporting in front of you. One of his massive, clawed hands cups your cheek. The stench of death and decay is nearly overpowering and makes you want to gag. It is not helped by the undercurrent of honey-sweetness that is, strangely enough, part of his scent as well as overripe fruit. "But if you try to fight me or my little brothers, I will remove that protection from them. I have brought an entire fleet with me. Your cute little ship cannot hope to escape my brothers in the void above us."

Despair and failure rip the fight out of you, and your eyes shine with tears. But you do know how to play coy, to bat your eyelashes. You can feel the desire and want radiating off of this chaos-twisted monster, and you desperately hope that you can use that to your advantage somehow. Which is why you lean into his touch, despite internally shuddering at that, locking your mental shields tight, so as to keep your emotions from the younger psyker. "Please don't harm my crew... they are as innocent of my nature as the mortals in these worlds, Lord Typhus. I..." You do not want to, but the false apology will likely stroke his ego "Apologize for lashing out earlier."

"Mmm, I expected at least a little bit of bite and fury, my lovely Rose. Of course you have your own thorns. You merely needed to be reminded not to prick your beloved's brothers when in a pretty little temper." Typhus purrs, giving a silent signal to his brothers, who swiftly cleared the tent of anyone else. "You're so used to hiding and escaping... To have your true nature revealed would cause a fit of pique... As long as that doesn't happen again, I am willing to forgive you easily enough."

"I... I'll try... Would you please let my ship full of mortals leave without becoming ill? they are wanderers by nature and to trap them in one place would be cruel beyond words, my lord." You plea, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Wouldn't you rather have them with you, my lovely flower? For you will be at my side now and for always. Won't you miss them if they are far from you?" Typhus coos down at you as he scoops you up and sets you down on the table, pressing in close to you as he does so. "When I found out that you're a rogue trader, I was rather expecting to you to be dressed in fine clothes, with pretty little gems accenting your lovely features..."

"Such things are not...uhm... Exactly reasonable to wear, especially in the protective clothing I was wearing over this, my lord. And I did not want to worry the mortals by wearing something... So flashy?" You offer, peeking up at h i m coquettishly, tilting your head a little before looking down "Besides... All of that artifice is... Tiring at times, not to mention ephemeral. And I'd rather my mortals be happy, if away from me, than at my side and unhappy."

"How sweet of you, my lovely rose... And I do like how simply you are dressed. It makes unwrapping you much easier. You are mine, as Isha belongs to my grandfather. We will become one, and you will be my pretty little wife." Typhus purrs, pressing you down on the table. You could hear something creak and shift in his armor before four tentacles slide out from hatches in his armor, each curling into part of your pants and ripping them off of you, as a fifth slid up between your legs and the tip rubbed against your core.

You gasp and squirm, trying to close your legs and shift away from the strange sensation, turning your head away from him as your face and neck burned in a blush that was revealed by more tugging tendrils to be a flush that spread down your chest and across your breasts "L-Lord T-Typhus! Does... Do... Right now? On a table? Is this... Is there somewhere more comfortable to... To..." You can't bring yourself to say the words that burned like acid in your mind.

"hmm? Would you like me to carry you to a bed, to ravish you properly, my pretty little flower? Is that what you'd like? I'll admit, that was my initial plan, but your sweet flirtation and compliance so far has worn away my patience. I try to emulate grandfather, but patience is not my strongest suit." Typhus purrs. You see him pull his face plat off, his face half rotted near to bone as he gives you a crushing, dominating kiss that tastes of over ripe fruit and dangerously sweet honey. When he pulls away from you, allowing you to catch your breath, you see that the sting of saliva that connects you to him has a golden tinge. "I could be... Convinced to take you for our first time together on a bed... But you'll need to do something for me, first."

You hadn't expected the bastard to be a talented kisser, nor to stir up long-suppressed wants. You blink up at him, feeling surprisingly hazy and warm from the kiss "What.. What is it, lord?" You ask, not having to feign the breathiness in your voice from the kiss.

"For you to taste a mouthful of the honey that my bees create. Considering your reaction to just the slightest taste of it, I suspect that you will enjoy more of it. But I get to share it so rarely with others, and my little darlings have plenty to spare." Typhus purrs, his hands lightly squeezing your upper thighs as he effortlessly pulls your legs away from one another.

You hate how much that casual display of strength turns you on, and the wetness that starts to drip from your core at that. It's been... A long time since you'd masturbated, and you hadn't had sex in... At least a century? Perhaps longer. "H...Honey?" You manage out, trying to focus.

The smug bastard definitely noticed, from the pleased hum and the smirk he's giving you with what remains of his lips - and he rubs one of his tentacles more firmly against your entrance "Are you certain you want to wait that long? You're already dripping for me~! And this table should be sturdy enough for me to fuck you properly on. I'd also be happy to feed you a mouthful of my honey either way."

"I... haah! Oh! Please... Hnngh..." You start to say, groaning as one of the tentacles that had been content to hold your arms down slid over and began teasing and squeezing one of your breasts, flicking it with the tip of the squirming appendage. His stench was overpoweringly awful, but somehow that did not help you focus through the embarrassing amount of lust coursing through your system.

"Mmm? Please what, my cute little wife? Please take you now, on the table? Or would you rather I carry you to bed, holding you close as my tendrils work you open to receive me? There may be others out and about as I take you to a nearby bed, precious flower of mine. Not that I mind others knowing for a fact that you are mine and mine alone to tease and pleasure in such a way." Typhus rumbles, the sneaky bastard's hands coming up to cheekily squeeze your ass cheeks.

You’d rather not be paraded around naked for who knows how long it takes him to find a bed for all to see… But the table is hard and deeply uncomfortable as it digs into your back. “Honey please, my lord. I… Would I have to be seen by others like this, on the way to bed, sir?” You’re gambling on what his likely kinks might be, from what you’ve observed of other marines throughout your centuries of life. “Wouldn’t you rather be the only one to see me like this… Shivering and wanting for you and you alone, my lord?” You spread your legs a little, hooking your ankles around his hips as best as you can, pulling him in closer, one hand coming up to caress the tentacles teasing your breasts, making it difficult for you to think. But not impossible.

His gaze nearly scorches you with the intensity at which he looks at you, before a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest and he pulls you in close, giving you another searing, breath-stealing kiss. “You are correct, my lovely rose. Now open up, let me feed you my honey.” His four of tentacles have shifted, wrapping around your back, arms and legs to keep you in place, while the fifth keeps rubbing and teasing your entrance and clit, sending waves of guilt-laced pleasure shuddering through your body.

Obediently you open your mouth wide, going “Ahhh~!” as if you’re eagerly anticipating whatever foul substance he’s calling honey is being fed to you. Even if the substance kills you, it won’t kill you for very long.

A smaller tendril, several shades lighter in color than the others comes out from his body and presses it’s way into your mouth, and he orders “close your mouth around this and swallow once your mouth is full.”

A thick, sticky substance quickly fills your mouth, and you let out a little sound of surprise as you swiftly close your lips around the appendage, swallowing as much of it down as you could. Still, you could feel some of the surprisingly sweet and delicious substance trickle out of the corners of your mouth. The appendage in your mouth flexes and slides deeper, causing you to let out a muffled sound of surprise - the cry getting louder as the tendril teasing your entrance abruptly slid deep and fast into your core, as your walls fluttered and squeezed around the breech helplessly “Mmm-Hmmm!” You garble out around the tendril.

Typhus chuckles, his glowing red eyes dark with lust “That’s it, gorgeous, you like the taste of my honey, don’t you? Take another mouthful, and try not to spell my cutely messy little wife.” He accentuated his words with a thrust of the tentacle inside your spread open cunt. You really hoped his cock was the size of the tentacle shoving itself deep inside of you. You can’t imagine being able to take anything bigger.

Shamefully, the nod you give him when he asks if you liked his honey is entirely truthful, and you can’t help the needy whines that leave you when the tentacle filling your pussy slowly slides out of you, your walls achingly empty. You can taste another gush of warp-infused honey fill your mouth, which you do manage to swallow all of this time. The tendril in your mouth retreats to merely pressing against your lips. Hazy warmth begins to envelop your mind and causes a pleasant tingling sensation to spread throughout your body. “Sorry… Didn’t meant to spill first time…” You slur out, one hand coming up to collect the spilled honey off of your cheeks and neck, licking it off your fingers as you peer up at him. “Please… Husband… Take me, in bed, for our first time?” You peer up at him through your eyelashes, pouting a little as you press your naked breasts to his corroded armor.

The rumbling sound that Typhus made almost terrified you, if not for the insistent way he nuzzled your neck, leaving little kisses and bites all the way down, from just under your ear, to where your neck met your shoulders. You realized a moment later that he was purring, and the tentacle that had shoved it’s way inside your cunt earlier was steadily pumping in and out of you, prompting needy little gasps and moans to leave you as he presses you hard against the table. “OH… I understand now why Grandfather holds onto Grandmother so closely… Why she is such a precious treasure for him… Mrrr, you are a tempting little treat, but I did promise to fuck you on a bed if you tasted my honey, and I tend to try and keep my promises.” You could hear the buzz of his demonic bees that accompanied him everywhere he went at the end of his little speech..

“Ah! Hah… Please… Amngh! Ty-... Typhus! AH… My lord! Hah… the table… hurtss…. Please my lord husband! Ah! Hah… Please!” You plead, the fuzziness in your mind and the pleasure - somehow amplified by the warmth spreading through you threatened to break what little control you had over yourself and this situation into tiny little pieces. You deliberately squeeze as tightly as you can manage around the thrusting tendril inside of you “Please… bed? Now? Oh! You… You’re gonna… haha! Make me c-cum soon, siirrr!”

The pleased growling rumble that provoked from Typhus you hoped was a good thing. “Such a good little wife I have… fuck! You are such a tempting little thing. Hold on close~!” He purrs. You feel another’s warpcraft weave it’s way across your body, and you fight the urge to resist with all your strength as Typhus teleports you and himself to somewhere else.

Wherever it is, it’s softer under your ass than the hard metal and glass table. Warmer, too as Typhus starts leaving more bites across the skin of the other side of your neck and shoulders, his tentacles teasing your breasts and bending your legs back and away, nearly folding you in half, as the tentacle fucking your cunt moves at a maddeningly quick pace, curling and shifting inside of you in all the right ways.

You hazily watch as he pulls away, his large hands fumbling with something at his waist - a metallic thunk of something hitting the floor. You're still keening and moaning at the way one of his tentacles is filling your core full when -

Something larger begins to press inside of you, while the tentacle is still inside. You realize after a moment it's Typhus' cock "Please! Husband... Lord... I... I can't take both at once! You're too big for me, I'll tear!" You plead tearfully, the pain coursing through your body so much more than the pleasure that had nearly sent you to an orgasm.

Typhus chuckles, kissing your cheeks and licking up your tears "Easy now, my cute little wife. You'll be able to fit in both, I promise. Just breathe through the pain. I'll move slowly, I promise... Though you are sinfully tight around my cock... Such a good little wife~! Good girl... Deep breaths... That's it..."

A tiny part of you hates how his praise does seem to somehow be helping you. Your breathing is jagged and shallow as the bastard continues to press in, his thick, long cock sliding in slowly alongside where one of his tentacles is already buried deep inside your cunt. It feels like it takes an eternity for him to stop pressing inside of you, and twice that for the pain to subside.

All the while, Typhus is purring lewd praises in your ear, nibbling on the skin of your neck, and drinking up your tears. "Such a good girl... My precious, eternal flower, taking all of me in... That's it, just breathe in and out as you submit to me... Good little mate. Are you ready for me to move?"

You nod weakly, well and thoroughly trapped beneath his bulk "Y-Yes, please move, lord..."

Typhus starts purring again as he alternates thrusting in with one of his tentacles and his cock, never not filling you with one of them, a filthy string of curses and praises leaving his lips as he fucks into you hard and fast.

You claw at his back, moving your hips in time to his thrusts as best as you can, the intensity of the sensations too much for you to do more than instinctually respond back, moaning wordlessly in pleasure, clinging tightly as your first orgasm hits you.

Typhus doesn't so much as slow down as your walls flutter and squeeze around him, the bastard as he continues to fuck you, somehow able to move even faster as he fucks you through your orgasm. He does, however, bite down hard on one of your shoulders, enough to draw blood.

You couldn't say how much time passed as Typhus fucked you over and over again, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your increasingly exhausted body. Eventually both his cock and the tentacle he'd been using to fuck you for what must have been hours at minimum deep inside your core at the same time, pressing up against your cervix (causing you a whimper of pain, which he ignored) flooding your womb with cum. You swore you could feel your belly begin to bulge outwards at the amount he pumped into you, prompting another whimper to leave your exhausted and chapped lips.

Typhus chuckles, kissing you again as you feel the tentacle press harder against your cervix, before feeling something other than cum begin to fill your womb, bump by bump.

"Wh... what is...?" You slur out, too tired to form the words properly, sending the sensation through the light mental bond that Typhus had formed with you during the sex at some point.

Typhus chuckled and purrs "Geneseed, lovely one. Which you will hold inside of you until it is ready to be implanted. You make a wonderful wife, my lovely little flower." He pats your lightly distended belly with an enormous hand, clearly pleased with himself. He holds you close to his body "Rest, little flower. You are safe with me."

You very much want to demand what the fuck he meant by that, but the psychic pressure behind his command - and your own exhaustion worked against you as you slumped into his embrace, sleep overtaking you.

#warhammer 40k #my writing #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #typhus x fem reader #perpetual!Reader #cw tentacles #cw dubious consent #cw attempted seduction #cw forced marriage #cw body borror #cw demon bees #cw oviposition #please tell me if I missed anything and I'll tag it #cw cumflation #Read the tags and ye be warned

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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nsfw - mdni. self ship coded. kakashi is in his mid 30s, reader is in their late 20s. f!reader, mentions of female anatomy. kakashi is a virgin welcome to my ted talk. there's not full blown sex but we're talking about the lead up OKAY.

“Can…can I?”

You ask the question from atop Kakashi, straddling his hips with your thighs framing either side of his. Hands are clasped, yours and his, fingers entwined and held at his sides. A breath catches in his throat when he glances up at you, brows knit together in anxiety, his body on fire and his mind racing.

You’re so beautiful it makes his racing mind quiet for a moment, long enough that his brow unfurrows and his eyes rove over your form. He’s awed at what he finds when he truly looks at you in all your glory. Supple and soft, freckles and faded stretch marks dotting your skin but he finds they only make you irresistible. They serve as reminders that you’re a human with a life lived behind you covering your body, something he wishes he could see more of in himself.

He’s scarred and gouged and hard, nothing in comparison to you. He has never let another soul see him like this and he’s starting to remember why, humiliation weighing him down so heavily he can hardly think despite the goddess atop him.

Despite his trepidation, his body isn’t all that is hardened though. He’s reminded of this when you wiggle your hips atop his, shifting enough that your eager cunt drags wetness along the hardened length of his cock that rests between the lips of your labia. You hum softly at the sensation, heat rising from your core to your chest and your face.

The sweet noise, the sound of you, is what finally gets him to nod, swallowing down his uncertainty at being so exposed to you.

“Yes you can,” he finally expresses and you bend at the waist, pressing your chests together to envelope his mouth in a kiss. He is no stranger to kissing you, the two of you having shared more than just pecks in the past, but he bristles at how much more intimate this is than anything the two of you have previously done together.

It was less intimate for him to have his tongue laving through your pretty folds than it is for him to be nude in front of you, giving you access to something he has denied anyone who was ever brave enough to try in the past. He hopes you know the power you wield and that you use it responsibly.

The worried voices in his mind fade into a murmur when your tongue swipes against his bottom lip, teeth gently nibbling to follow the motion and he groans. His hips cant and you giggle, pressing your own hips down against his to create some kind of friction that’s satisfying for both of you. The sensation makes him whimper, a noise coming from somewhere deep in his throat and you break the kiss, lifting your face so that it's hovering over his.

His lips are slick and partially open, eyes wide and full of depths of emotion and wonder you can’t quite place but you focus on making him feel good rather than the particulars, kissing down his jaw and his neck. You take liberties, gently nibbling at the skin on the front of his throat and his hips jerk again, reflexive and desperate for something. He’s no stranger to that familiar feeling, the nights when he’s longed for more than just the strong grip of his fist, imagining the way you’d feel wrapped around him, hot and wet and eager.

Some wishes really do come true, he supposes, watching while you continue your barrage of kisses down his chest. Your fingers dance over the scars that dot his chest, no hesitation or revulsion, and he exhales deeply.

He can relax, he’s in good hands, the sweet ones he loves to hold between his own. The hands he loves to watch write and pet the dogs and pluck flowers from your garden. He’s in the only pair of hands he ever wants to be in and his head swims, your kisses delving ever lower across his torso and leaving a hot trail in their wake. He feels each wet mark you leave on him, the trail glistening in the light.

“You okay up there?”

Resting your cheek on his chest for a moment you pause, taking the time to look at him. Shifting your position so that you can continue to work even lower across his body, he groans at the loss of your warm cunt over his cock. You respond with a gasp of your own, drinking in the sight of his sticky cock and the way it rests against his stomach naturally with gravity.

“I’m great,” and he means it. He has never been better, felt more loved, than he does under the weight of your gaze and your hands and your body. His cock jumps and you smile, sitting back on your haunches between his spread legs for a moment to truly show him how much you love to merely look at him.

He may be hardened and scarred and gouged, evidence of a life lived hard and fought for, but he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He deserves some pleasure considering all the pain and you’re going to be sure to give it to him. It may be his first time but he deserves to have the best one a person can possibly be given.

“You are beautiful,” you mutter lowly and he chuckles nervously in response, cheeks heating with your praise. Your hands remain locked with his despite your change in position and you view him from above like one may view the world from atop a mountain - powerful and humbled all in one.

He’s your land to be discovered and you plan on mapping out every single inch of him.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kendall writes #fine shrine #the way i literally could not get this out of my HEAD...........

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animatedjen · 9 months ago

Text

Cal slipped.

Rock shattered under his foot and skittered down towards the treeline below. His knee and face took most of the impact, crimped handholds biting against his fingers. On his back, BD readjusted his grip with a whir of concern. Twice he’d told Cal this idea was stupid, both times after Cal fell into loose shale while approaching the wall. After that the droid hunkered down and kept his opinions to himself, if only to prevent throwing Cal off balance.

“It’s okay buddy,” Cal grunted the assurance as he looked for new footing. He tasted dirt and maybe blood, his arms were completely spent, and yet somehow it was the best Cal had felt in weeks. He shifted his hips lower and let his weight settle over his left foot, then inched his right up the wall to another toehold. Not great, but it should be enough.

He'd first found the crag while exploring with Mosey. “This path would take us all the way round Raider territory ‘cept for that bluff in the way,” she explained, steering her nekko away from the large outcropping. Cal remembered looking it over, instinctually tracing a line up through the various shapes and grooves in the basalt rock face. A project for another time, after they found Tanalorr.

Now halfway up the cliff, Cal can’t think about hidden planets or fallen friends or a looming Empire. All he can do is inch sideways and slot his hand into a nearby crevice, adjusting until the meat of his palm is wedged firmly into the gap. The next hand follows, then he finds his feet. Instinctually Cal matched his breath to each movement, a soft inhale followed by a deep hiss of an exhale. It’s a form of meditation that he’s never truly found while on the ground.

At the temple he climbed everything. The other younglings in his creche turned it into a game, pointing out interesting walls or columns that could potentially offer a challenge. Wynne once dared Cal to climb to the top of the Archive without touching the floor, and he made it over the railing and onto the second story bookshelves before a bewildered librarian sounded the alarm. His punishment was to dust those same bookshelves, which was wildly boring aside from the ever-present audience: Cal made sure every passing Jedi knew why an eight year old padawan had been assigned cleaning duty. Master Catrine called him a tree-goat and it became Cal’s nickname for the rest of the year.

Learning more of the Force only improved his physicality. Master Tapal had taken one look at his tiny human padawan, bouncing around the halls of the Albedo Brave, and immediately added aerobatics to the training regiment. “You won’t be able to overpower your opponent,” he would say while Cal learned to dash across walls and flip higher into the air. “Use your size and speed to maneuver through your surroundings, adapting to the environment and using it to your advantage.”

Years later, Cal scaled the hull of a half-scrapped Star Destroyer faster than anyone on his shift. The rusting, jagged pieces of metal were nothing like Venator-class training halls or the trees in the Temple meditation gardens. These ships were covered in tragedy, rotted by war and the incessant Bracca rain. He learned to climb with rigging gear, climb with too many pounds of scrapper kit, climb with gnawing emptiness in his stomach and torch burns across his knuckles. The Force was no longer an aid, only a dull, haunted reminder of his past. But years of training were etched too deep into his muscles to be completely forgotten, and the Guild valued those skills enough to employ a destitute liability of a child.

Above, two relters cut across the late afternoon sky, their shadows racing each other along the rockface. Cal tucked his knee against a well-placed indent and ground his foot into the wall until each side felt secure. The kneebar in place, he released his hands with a sigh, shaking out tension and letting the breeze wick away sweat. Guilt gnawed at Cal’s consciousness– he should be at the saloon with the others, helping pack supplies for their next trip through the abyss. The Raiders would likely be wiped out by the Empire anyway, and that’s a problem that no new climbing line can fix.

The Force hummed softly. Cal continued to the end of the fissure, finding another rest point just off to the side. He pressed a hand against a flat portion of the wall, testing its integrity.

“Ready BD?” he called. One beep later, a metal spike launched over Cal’s shoulder to his waiting hand. It would’ve been easier to rewire the entire Mantis than convince BD to swap out his stim canisters for pitons, but Cal didn’t want to risk losing any of his hardware mid-climb. He lined up the spike and let the Force gather around it, then with a Push drove it into the wall. The impact echoed across the treeline below with a satisfying boom.

That was the last piton, BD trilled as Cal added a carabiner. Leaning back, he checked the dangling rope below, tracing it through the previously embedded spikes. Everything’s holding. He checked in with his body. Everything’s hurting. Great. A stim would’ve been nice right about now.

The rope was threaded up and through the final anchor as Cal scouted the last section of the ascent: two sloping holds and a column that juts up over the top of the cliff. He moved his hands to each sloper, mantling up and to the side until there was enough space for his heel to meet his hand. Both hands shifted to the left sloper, and his other foot met them there. Slowly, achingly, he rotated upwards.

BD launched from Cal’s back with a whoop, his thruster carrying him just high enough to disappear over the cliff’s edge. Immediately the whirr of his scanner filled the quiet evening air. Cal laughed despite his weariness, reaching up to grab an edge on the column. Another reach, another foothold, and he had made it. Scrubby grass poked out from gaps in the basalt while thick clouds silhouetted the distant rock formations in pink and gold. In the valley between them lay Rambler’s Reach, just barely outlined in the sunset.

Everyone Cal loved was in that tiny speck of a settlement. Everyone else was gone. He sunk to the ground, keenly aware of each complaining muscle as he wiped the dust off his face. BD finished scanning and joined him at the ledge.

“What a view, huh BD,” Cal said quietly. Together they watched the rest of the sky fade to dusk.

–

One relter ride later, Cal was collecting leftover gear at the base of the cliff when nekkos trotted up from the ravine. Mosey emerged first, a lantern swinging from her pack. To Cal’s surprise, Merrin was following her.

“We thought that was you,” Merrin said, dropping from the nekko to greet BD. He immediately asked if she brought stims. “Toa and Zee set up a telescope on the roof of Pyloon’s. We wanted to see what was drilling into the mountains. Thankfully, just a Jedi.”

“Shoot, you really sent that.” Mosey was staring wide-eyed at the rock face, the rope carving a thin brown line to the top of the outcropping. “Incredible. I knew you were good in a fight Cal, but this is something else.”

“With the anchors in place, you should be able to add additional aid,” Cal said. “Make it as easy to climb as possible.” He imagined Turgle dangling from a rope ladder while somehow completely wrapped in another rope ladder. “With some help,” he added.

“This could be huge.” Mosey examined the approach, kicking shale and other loose rocks to form a potential new path. “What’s the backside look like?”

“Not sure, there wasn’t enough light by the time I got up there. But–” Cal glanced over to Merrin, weighing her expression. “We could probably get a rappel system set up, if we stayed on Koboh a little longer.”

Merrin tilted her head. “You said we should establish the Sanctuary as soon as possible,” she said. “Staying on Koboh would delay that.”

“That’s right." The gnawing guilt crept back to his mind, and immediately he wished he was back on the wall again, which only increased the guilt.

“But,” Merrin cut into his thoughts. “Our goal is to help those who need it. That includes the people here.” She looked up at the cliff, now a shadow against the emerging stars. “I think a new pathway away from Raiders and Empire could be very helpful, and would give Greez time to finish packing the saloon. He’s collected too many trinkets these last few years.”

The dust was back in Cal’s eyes again. “Would that work for you, Mosey?”

Mosey grinned. “Sure does. It might even be fun.”

#not my usual contribution to the fandom but wanted to try something different!#and any excuse to shove rock climbing into my creative hobbies because it's my other favorite hobby #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #cal kestis #bd 1 #mosey cimmaron #merrin #nightsister merrin #jen writes jedi stuff

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damianbugs · 10 months ago

Note

You need to tell us what you think of your favorite Bruce ships. Pls

i should preface by saying i usually prefer bruce (in my own works and others, including comics) to not be in a relationship at all because i can't think of a time he's like ever emotionally stable enough for that. like ever. THAT BEING SAID isn't that all the more reason to throw him into a ship? doomed tragic romance you will always be famous to me

and because i am insane, here are some comic recs to go with my fav bruce ships!!

>batcat

a classic favourite, batcat!!! i will admit i am not the biggest fan of their rebirth stories, and the whole wedding fiasco and most of what tom king wrote about them (and in general) was. not enjoyable. but pre crisis/golden age batcat? MY PARENTS. just. silver and bronze age batcat too. what a refreshing and entertaining couple. the thing that really makes them compelling is at the end of the day they have the same goal; protect the people of gotham. the ways they go about it can be different, and selina especially faces some serious mischaracterisation in order to make bruce look like the "hero" in the relationship, but at their core and simplest expression of love, they share the same dream, and they both know that. it's this selflessness that connects them deeply.

> "The Autobiography of Bruce Wayne" (Batman the Brave and the Bold #197) is, in my opinion, essential batcat reading. a very bittersweet story!

> for a more modern read, "Only Takes a Night" (Catwoman #32) is a delightful read about how hopelessly in love they are. bruce is such a devoted loser.

> ghostbat

every character needs that one irreparably damaging young adult tragic romance that changed their life forever and that is what ghostbat is. khoa is the perfect foil to bruce, in that ultimately, they are two ends of the same spectrum. fiercely stubborn and confident in their own moral code but in the opposite way. this ship is particularly fascinating because even now, the respect and love they have for each other years later is so deeply consuming that it is prevalent in how they interact now. i don't think bruce would have been the person he is without his relationship with khoa pre-batman, in both a good and bad ways. i also really love the hc that khoa is bruce's first heartbreak (refer to: the Snow and Gun incident).

> "Batman The Knight" is like ghostbat religious text. this is all you need. let it destroy you.

> batlantern

no long paragraph about this one because its my silly guilty pleasure. sometimes u need a ship in which they just don't get along except for the times they do. hal brings out such an irritating (said fondly) side to bruce and its even funnier because it works mutually. i think another really wonderful thing about this pairing is that they are really not so different from each other (nothing says romance than being consumed by your guilt and stubbornness), but they both think otherwise, so they knock heads while also begrudgingly respecting about one another in a colleague-friend-crush way. they want to make out so bad it makes them look stupid.

> "Batman: Universe" is a great and short silly story that shows their dynamic really well. amused me greatly. not ship focused though hal is there for like. a single issue unfortunately. but fun!!

> i usually never recommend any new 52 books to get INTO a character, but if you're interested in this pairing and its most 'popular' fanon interation, then "Jutice League (2011)" is the best place to start. you can get to their better stuff afterwards! (there's also an animated movie about it!)

> brutalia

AND BEST TILL LAST. THE BRUCE SHIP OF ALL TIME. ruined my life. CHANGED my life. i wish i could explain how insanely important this relationship is in words. i love my pairings tragic and there is quite literally no other ship quiet as dramatic or poetic than brutalia. talia is often seen as bruce's "one true love" with great reason, and him hers, and despite that they will probably never actually get back together. in a wider lense, the al ghuls and bruce have an insanely complicated dynamic, and this inherent conflict about missions bigger than themselves makes brutalia's forbidden love drama all the more compelling. talia brings out the best in bruce, and bruce respects and loves talia in a way i don't think he does anyone else in his life.

to complain for a moment, it's no wonder that because their relationship (since it's very first introduction) was so irrevocably pure and consensual (they were both so ridiculously obsessed with each other), that Certain Writers had to pull out the most out of character and disgusting stories to make it clear the tone of batman was changing. talia is always a victim to racism, misogyny and just unbelievable ooc writing — most evidently in her stories with bruce, unfortunately.

AND YET. recent comics have realised how truly ridiculous it is to write her as anything but kind and strong, and bruce being anything but hopelessly infatuated. i think my favourite thing about brutalia is that bruce and talia is a relationship that has been separated for actual Decades and so both their characters have been developed to have their own tragic stories and growth. then when we get small moments that bring them back together and letting that past show through the cracks in their carefully constructed walls, it's all the more romantic.

beautiful heartbreaking ship. the kind of relationship historians would cry over. would have the romantic period publishing fifteen books over.

> "Batman: Son of the Demon" is ESSENTIAL brutalia reading. also, if you are insane and delusional enough, it can be the true origin of damian.

> the comic moment that inspired all romance the moment of forever the blueprint even is in the famous "Batman (1940) #244"

> for a more modern take, very recently in fact, is her appearances in Ram V's run of detective comics, starting from #1062. its not brutalia focused, but a great take on how natural and yearning their relationship is now.

#for a guy who is notoriously shit at relationships he sure does find himself in them constantly #but truly is there a single fail loser man that yearns as much as batman #bruce wayne #batcat #ghostbat #batlantern #brutalia #saki comic talks

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shdo-xplosion · 2 years ago

Text

INTRO: BEGIN TRANSMISSION

warnings: general warnings on the MASTERLIST! this chapter contains elements of fear, language barriers, and choking (not in a fun way) 1.4k

notes: this is just the beginning ( •⌄• ू )✧ plzplz tell me what you think!!!

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

Securing your helmet, you glance at Shinsou through the convex lense and laugh. “A little late to be asking that, don’t you think?”

“Just giving you the chance to hide under your blankies until this is all over,” he smirks.

“You mean hang out in the ship for the next two years? Think I’d die of boredom.”

When you’d first joined the crew you probably would have been able to entertain yourself for that long, exploring all the nooks and crannies of Hermes, but after years of learning all its secrets most of the mystery is gone.

“Just remember I gave you an out.”

“No outs allowed,” Kendou pipes up, voice distorted by her helmet speaker. “We’ve been preparing for this for years. We’re all ready.” She flexes both of her bionic hands, a subtle indication that she’s just as nervous as the rest of you.

The main door of the ship slides open in front of you, and Kendou leads the way out of the familiar territory and onto the shuttle platform, seven other crew mates following.

You’re all a very long way from home—light years away. The people you’ve left behind have all aged many years while you slept through the journey. Your entire home planet has changed drastically. And it’s only going to keep changing, keep degenerating. It’s why you’re here now.

Nobody knows exactly how to say this world’s name, but they sent a simple message that included something of an alphabet. Shinsou, your language expert, translated as best he could.

“The closest I can get as far as pronunciation is Destro, but they don’t really have vowels, so it’s more like dsst-ruh,” he tried to explain.

“Sounds a lot like ‘destroy’,” you had pointed out, trying to laugh off your unease.

Monoma snickered while throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you if anything spooky happens.”

It’s hard to get that out of your head as you make your way down the catwalk. Don’t look down, don’t look down, you repeat to yourself. The landing port and platform seem to be surrounded by nothing, a single lit up construct in the darkness. Though the station is in view, it looks very small.

Every step closer makes your stomach crawl higher in your throat, and by the time you make it to the massive doors that will grant you entry, you feel like throwing up.

“It’ll be fine,” Kendou’s voice sounds through her speaker. “We’re doing this for all of humanity.”

“You sound very brave,” Monoma snorts.

Shinsou, unwilling to wait apparently, steps forward and pounds on the door, unfazed when a large sphere drops out of nowhere, red light pointed in his face.

“Probably a camera,” he says.

“Or some kind of laser that’s about to melt your face off.”

“Helpful, Monoma. Very helpful,” you comment sarcastically.

Shinsou slowly holds up a gloved hand for the supposed camera to see, then speaks clearly: “Planet Earth. Humans.”

You don’t know what good it will do since they don’t speak your language, but whoever or whatever is on the other side of the doors must understand enough to know that you are not invaders but visitors.

The grind of the doors opening echoes in the abyss, a bone-chilling sound. You rest your hand on the gun at your hip, eyes widening as you’re finally able to see what lies ahead.

A handful of strangers are waiting for you, and you try to take in as much as you can in a short amount of time. Humanoid in stature aside from size, the same number of limbs, even their faces look similar to yours. But their eyes are different—sharp, the sclera (or what you assume to be), filled in red rather than white. What could be hair looks coarse and glitters in the light. There are markings on their cheeks and noses, different colors, and their skin, ranging in human hues, is smattered with scales.

Shinsou has his tablet ready, projecting a hologram of their alphabet so that he can point to the different letters that spell out ‘hello’ followed by ‘peace’.

The alien at the front of the group nods, grunts, then raises a hand and points at the device to spell something else out. Shinsou’s tablet collects each letter and translates them so that he can look at the rest of you and relay, “decontamination. I guess that’s the first thing we need to do.”

After a few more typed exchanges, the possible leader turns and motions your crew to follow his.

They’re taller than all of you, averaging anywhere between 7 and 8 feet, but the similarities are a little baffling to you. You suppose if their planet is anything like earth, the shared traits make sense. Maybe they’re taller because this world is richer in oxygen. Maybe their longer fingers have more webbing in between because they spend more time in water. Maybe the serrated teeth one of them flashes at you are for tearing apart tougher meat.

Or for ripping the throats from their prey.

You force a smile at the one looking down at you, hoping it isn’t an aggressive gesture. The way it puffs its chest out and shows more of its teeth makes you think it might be trying to smile back.

Despite your crew outnumbering theirs by three, you can’t help but feel watched, like there are many many more eyes on you that you can’t see. It makes your skin prickle, and you keep your hand close to your gun.

Another, smaller set of metal doors opens, and once inside the creature in charge points toward a room that looks to be made of glass. You can see through the walls, spot dozens of fixtures that resemble sprinkler spickets. Decontamination.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” you ask Kendou. “We don’t know what they’re going to use on us. What if it’s acid or something?”

Her jaw is set, eyes trained on the room you’re being led to.

“It won’t be. If they wanted to hurt us, they wouldn’t have offered their help,” she reasons.

You’re not so sure about that.

“Suits off,” Shinsou says, holding up his tablet as if anyone else can read it. “There’s enough oxygen that we’ll be able to breathe.” He takes his helmet off to demonstrate, and you’re relieved when his head doesn’t explode on the spot. “It’s sort of like breathing at a high-altitude, though, so be ready for that.”

You have to fight every one of your instincts in order to strip yourself of your suit and helmet—your protection. It’s your life support when you’re traveling the stars. You feel completely vulnerable without it.

In nothing but underclothes, the 8 of you walk into the strange chamber. All you can think is that these might be the last few breaths that you ever take. This could all be a trap, no large step for mankind.

The door closes, and you stare through it, catching the red eyes of the alien who had been walking next to you. You think you see his mouth begin to pull up on one side just as a substance begins spraying from the spickets all around you.

It isn’t liquid nor is it gas—more like some kind of powder that coats your mouth and makes you cough. If it was hard to breathe before, it’s getting impossible now, this stuff clogging your throat and the throats of those around you.

The room is filled with violent hacking. Monoma vomits next to you, his watery eyes caked with whatever this is.

You wave a hand in front of your face in an attempt to dispel some of the flakes floating around you, searching for Kendou, for Shinsou, for an escape as you realize with terror that your gut instinct has been right. You never should have walked into this place, never should have taken one step off Hermes. This was a fruitless mission. This was arrogance, humans thinking you deserved to be helped.

Your vision is almost non-existent, and it feels like every inch of you is caked with whatever poison is pouring down on you. You bang on the wall with a desperation you’ve never felt before, screaming pleas you know the creatures don’t understand.

We’re dying. I’m dying. We came all this way to be killed.

The smiling alien watches you as you grow more and more light-headed. Whatever you’re inhaling burns your lungs, your mouth, the very inside of your skull.

The last thing you see before blacking out is the smiling alien’s split tongue running over its lips, a hungry beast waiting for its next meal.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #tw dark content

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andkisses · 1 year ago

Text

♡ it's a promise | sunghoon ♡

sunghoon has been your friend for the longest time, and he gets you–which is why you fell in love. and you’ve been sending out feelers to see if he, well, feels the same. and now it’s time you found out.

♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 1.2k ♡ genres/tropes: banter, confessions (?), fluff, friends to lovers ♡ mentions of/warnings: pet names (u call him pretty boy) ♡ a/n: this was originally something i wrote for hyunjae from the boyz but i for the life of me cannot remember if i posted it or not </3 this is also a revamp rather than a repost because ended up writing some more for it ^^ ♡ masterlist ♡

The moon hangs high against a curtain of glassy stars, casting soft electric light through the small kitchen window. It’s hard to play without any light, but he refuses to turn on the overhead. You watch as he deliberately stares at the other side of the board, deep in thought. With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, Sunghoon leans back, eyeing you over top of the Battleship board. “E4.”

You fake a giant frown. Then, you offer a small tut-tut, shaking your head as you pick up a white piece to taunt him. “Miss.”

Sunghoon sighs again dramatically, rolling his eyes and slouching in his chair. “Why do I invite you over if all you ever do is make me lose?”

“I’m sorry?” you laugh, relishing in how well you’re playing and how bad he’s doing. “You lose all on your own, pretty boy.”

There’s a slip in his façade as he offers you a small laugh before going back to staring at the board. “Go on.”

Sunghoon’s apartment is small—a kitchen, a bedroom, a bath, and a room that’s somehow meant for dining and living but is not large enough to fit the appropriate furniture for both uses. It’s crowded and cramped, but feels so much like Sunghoon you can’t imagine him living anywhere else. There are his favorite albums on the wall, a stand of plants in the corner. Elements of brushed gold whenever they can be—pots, trays, the hooks on the wall for his keys. It’s cozy, even if you’re just sitting at his tiny two-person kitchen table playing what appears to be an ancient copy of Battleship.

“C8,” you say, and laugh when Sunghoon smiles again, waving around a white piece of his own in similar fashion. You take it from him, fingertips brushing his own. A spark, surely. “See, if I was the one making you lose, I would have hit that time.”

“Y/N, you’ve already sunk three of my battleships,” he says.

He’s good at hiding, but you’ve known Sunghoon long enough, been his friend, to see when his armor cracks. When your compliments affect him more than they should, more than just friends. When the names you choose to call him sink into his skin and stay there. Ever since you realized your feelings, you’d been testing to see if he felt the same way back. You like to believe you’re reading the signs and reactions correctly, but then again, there’s no better way than asking. Being upfront, being honest.

But could you really ask?

As brave as you feel, as confident as you are, it’s your best friend you’re talking about. Wouldn’t asking if he likes you—like-likes you? Like, for real—make things between the two of you weird if he didn’t feel the same way?

But there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same way. Surely friends don’t always invite the other over, pay for their food, help them cope when work is stressful. Sure, maybe friends do that, but a single friend? Doing everything? All the time?

Lost in your thoughts, you’re oblivious to the boy across from you, even if he is the subject of your worry, Sunghoon has slowly leaned forward, just enough to see around the board and locate your ships. “Hey, not fair!” you say, reaching forward to bat him away with your hands. “That’s cheating!”

“No, it’s not! You were thinking so hard you were on another planet, what else was I to do?” he argues, reaching to hold your hands in his to stop you.

You stand up, trying to see Sunghoon’s side of the board, trying to see if you’ve done more damage to him and can still win, even if he knows exactly where your boats are. Sunghoon stands too, lacing his fingers between yours, pushing back against you, laughter on his lips. As soon as you clear the table, he’s pulling you close.

You're trapped in his arms, but you can’t help but laugh too as you curl into his touch, his warmth, and smile as you feel Sunghoon do the same. You’re still shuffling, fighting for purchase, but in the small space, you end up tumbling over the back of the couch, Sunghoon now inches away above you. Your laughter dies down, the smiles still present, stuck in this haze around you.

You see the stars from before in his eyes, a happiness you’ve only ever noticed when he’s with you, just you. He smiles wider somehow, as if he can’t believe what’s happened to him. “I have a question,” he asks.

“What?” you whisper, even though there’s no one else.

Sunghoon’s smile fades slightly, his eyes darting back and forth between yours, before returning. It’s like he’s already confident in your answer. “If I kissed you, what would happen?”

Your own smile grows, your hands anxious to pull him closer. To finish this. It would be so easy—him only just propped up by his hands on either side of your shoulders. All you would have to do is wrap your hands into the front of his shirt and pull. Your words are ones you’ve imagined saying for a while. “I think I would fall in love with you.”

He leans in, and you desperately want to touch his face, run your hands through his hair, but you feel stuck in the moment, denial small but loud enough in your head. “Is that a threat?” he asks, in a whisper so low it feels almost like a hiss, like a dare.

It breaks you from your stupor. You reach up to thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him closer. “It’s a promise.”

He tastes like coffee and chocolate, and his warmth is more than you could have ever imagined. His hair is soft beneath your fingers as you dig into his scalp. It feels like time has stopped and restarted all at once. You gasp when you feel Sunghoon’s arms scoop beneath you, pulling you close to him and upright. Your legs are a tangled mess, half in his lap half off the couch. Sunghoon moves away first, and if you weren’t so damn content you’d frown at the absence of him.

His hands come up to cup your face, bringing warmth up your neck. He stares at you, eyes wide in the moonlight. Like you’re a dream come true. And maybe you are, because you’re certain you’ve dreamt this exact moment yourself, so what’s to say he hasn’t either?

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you ask, leaning forward to chase after his lips. And he lets you, pulling you closer. Your nose bumps into his and your teeth clack against his but you don’t care. One hand leaves the side of your head to roam down your back, splay large against your ribs. His warmth is everywhere, intoxicating. Your hands, which had found purchase gripping the front of his shirt, are back in his hair, nape of his neck. You savor how he shivers beneath your touch.

But then, his lps leave yours and start a trail down your jaw, making you shiver and laugh all at once. What a unique feeling–warm and ticklish and absolutely divine. Sunghoon stops himself when he gets to the corner of your jaw, just below your ear, and places one more kiss on your lips. You get everything you ever read about being breathless after kisses. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes shut, with the happiest smile.

His hands flutter down to lace themselves in yours. “I would do everything for you,” he whispers. He opens his eyes and looks at you, and you feel it in your core that he’s telling the truth. “Anything. Everything.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen #sunghoon #prose #fluff #all

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starrystevie · 1 year ago

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(rolls up stoned to your drive-thru window) yeah, can i get uhhhh… one steddie drabble combo, extra spicy with a side of trope and a large vibe to drink?

{happy early birthday i’m SO excited about this! can’t wait to see what you come up with. i’m down with any rating you’re feeling and any topic except cheating or non-con, so other than those two go wild}

wyn! i hate that this took me so long to get you but thank you soooo much for sending it in and making me chuckle. thank you for choosing steddie drive thru, here you go, but sorry. we were out of the spicy combos so i hope plain is okay <333

ship: steddie | trope: one bed | vibe: bittersweet | length: 1000-1500

the clock on steve's bedside table shows that it's 6:24am when the group calls it quits, its bright red numbers breaking through the haze of a cloudy morning. steve can hear robin in the guest room next door with nancy, max and el as their voices bleed through the walls. if he really tried to listen, he could probably hear them whispering secrets about how scared they really are, how el is putting on a brave face and how max isn't really ready for a fight and how they're all acting fine when they're not.

it's their reality now. fighting in a war that none of them want to fight in.

the boys are rowdy downstairs still until steve hears lucas yell at them all to shut up. he smiles into the back of his hand as he yawns and pulls out a pair of sleep shorts, yanking them on and untangling his shirt from where it got caught around his neck. face planting on his bed is easy with how bone tired he is. his head hurts from drafting plans and his stomach hurts from not having enough rations to go around and his body has been broken enough times that the pressure from the thunderstorm rolling in has his joints inflamed.

steve expects it when his door creaks open, when the light from the hallway bleeds in and mixes with steely grey light coming from his window. "steve?"

eddie's voice is low when he speaks like he's afraid to wake up steve even though the whole point was that they'd be splitting up rooms. his chest feels too bare against the sheets but he's too tired to pick up a new one let alone put it on. he turns his head on his pillow so eddie can hear him without being muffled.

"bunking with me, ed?" he doesn't hear eddie answer but sees his silhouette shift against the door frame, moving his weight from one foot to the other. his fingers are twisting a ring and he looks like a little kid. steve's too tired to think about how they're all still kid of kids fighting a battle like they're grown ups. "if you're coming in, shut the door. it's too bright out there."

without waiting for an answer, steve scoots over gracelessly in his bed and nuzzles his head into the other pillow, winding his arms between the pillow and mattress. eddie walks silently, the swish of his jeans and the clinking of his chains the only thing that tells steve he's in the room. when he doesn't feel movement, he turns his head on the pillow and looks up at eddie with one eye peeled open.

"just get in the bed," he says firmly when he spots eddie standing by the bed like he's waiting for permission.

eddie hesitates and doesn't look at steve. "i can just sleep on the floor..."

steve groans. not this again. "eddie, c'mon. it's late, we both need a good night's sleep and you're not going to get that on my hard ass floors. i don't have cooties, i promise."

eddie lets out this sound that's not quite a sigh but steve can't place what it really is. he expects eddie to put up a fight like he normally does when he's being weird about sharing the bed but then the mattress dips not a second later and any subsequent movement stops. he doesn't feel eddie situate himself, doesn't hear him take off any clothes, only the thud of his sneakers falling to the floor.

"you can get comfortable, you know," steve says, huffing out a breath, thinking about getting up and getting eddie a pair of sweatpants so he won't be sleeping in jeans.

"i've slept in worse," is all eddie says before laying flat on his back.

steve rolls his eyes, too tired to argue, and curls back up on his side. from here, he can look out the window and see the wind rustling the treetops against the grey sky. even outside looks angry, unsettled, like it knows what the group is feeling and showing it back to them.

eddie lets out a sigh and twitches minutely against the mattress enough times that it starts to bug steve. he can feel the energy in the room shift because he knows that eddie wants to move, wants to take off his jeans at least, but won't for some unknown reason. eddie sighs again, more of a huff than anything and steve sits up out of frustration.

"okay, what's going on man," he asks and rubs a hand over his too tired face. eddie's eyebrows are pulled together, lips quirked down like he's forcing himself not to say something.

"just go to sleep, steve."

"fuck that," steve halfway shouts, his voice too loud in the stilling house. "i can't sleep when you're over there doing your best impression of a wood board."

eddie lifts himself up onto an elbow and scowls at steve. "really? that's that best metaphor you can come up with?"

"shut up, it's late- or well, early- so excuse me for not waxing poetic about how you're laying there like the mattress is going to bite you."

they're in a stalemate. steve is staring at eddie who's staring right back like he's waiting for something, waiting for the shoe to drop or for the world to open up and swallow him whole. they've gotten to a point where they can read each other fully especially after everything that happened in march. they were by each other's sides more often than not and when you're that attached to someone, when you've put them back together piece by broken piece, you learn their tells quick.

but then it happens. something shifts in the early morning hours and steve can feel it happen because suddenly he feels small and eddie looks young and it's like they both understand each other without saying a word.

steve settles back down, laying on his side, facing eddie. he curls up and keeps his hand between them, reaching for something he doesn't even realize he's reaching for. eddie does the same when he lays back down, jeans crinkling as he adjusts and pulls his legs up close to his chest.

"what's wrong?" steve's voice is soft in that 6am way when he asks. his eyes are soft in that eddie way, too.

"i'm scared, i guess," eddie mutters out, his eyes focusing on his hand as his fingers dance along the fitted sheet. "today was a lot and it... got me thinking."

he hears a thud in the guest room and a hushed 'sorry' from robin followed by giggles from the girls like they're at a sleepover and not at the end of the world. he wishes it was a sleepover and not boot camp for an end of the world army.

"uh oh, you thinking?" steve says in that soft way again, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "that's dangerous."

eddie huffs out a laugh and keeps his eyes down. "ha ha, nice one. haven't heard that before."

they get silent again and the rain that was threatening to pour starts coming down in a pitter patter against the windows. it picks up quickly along with the wind and the thunder and it doesn't escape him how eddie flinches at the sound every so often. steve wants to distract him, shield him from whatever is scaring him because that's who he is. the shield, the protector, the guy who's there to keep them all from falling apart with brute strength and biting sarcasm.

"so you were thinking..." he prods, trying to fill the space with something other than the noises outside that serve as a constant reminder of how close eddie was to dying. "care to share?"

eddie looks up as thunder booms somewhere in the distance but he doesn't look scared this time. he's determined, steady. steve doesn't have time to think about how much he loves that look on his face before suddenly there's a hand over top of his own, warm where it presses into every open space his hand offers.

"i think i'll keep this one a secret for now, if that's okay with you, king steve."

the warmth on the top of steve's hand spreads like molten gold through his hands like he is but an object under king midas's touch. it spreads to through his veins, up his arms to his heart and it thuds harshly against his chest at the feeling. when lightening lights up the early morning sky, steve can see it reflected in eddie's dark eyes.

"m'not a king anymore," is all he can get out, afraid that if he keeps talking for too long, 6am secrets will spill out across the mattress and he'll have no way of taking them back. eddie's hand twitches, squeezes steve's gently before leaving it there and closing his eyes.

"sure you are. always have been."

#rollfor2023 #steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #wynnyfryd #answered

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finalgirlkateausten · 9 months ago

Text

stay by your side every night

post-4x11, but in a fix-it 'verse where Elizabeth never got taken by the replicators. established john/elizabeth -- just a soft little hurt/comfort epilogue to that wonderfully whumpy episode. (assumes Elizabeth took Woolsey's place in the episode plot)

John finds Elizabeth in the makeshift control room as soon as he makes it off the Traveler ship. She’s leaning against the wall, listening to Zelenka’s account of the conditions aboard the cobbled together vessel. Even in the flickering emergency lighting, John can tell from the hand pressed to her forehead that she’s probably having a night even worse than his.

“Radek,” she sighs, “my czech is rusty on a good day, if you can’t get your point across in one language, can we switch to polish, maybe?”

“Tell her later, Radek,” John interrupts. “Elizabeth, Jen needs you in the infirmary.”

He takes her arm, but she goes willingly. “Are Rodney and Daniel okay?”

“They are, but you’re not,” John mutters. “I want you to get checked out.”

“We were never hurt, John,” she sighs, “only stunned. And besides, we both know I have the least to worry about in that regard.”

“Sure,” he agrees sarcastically, “so, you could walk in a straight line right now? If I let go of you?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just a headache. I guess a self-repairing system doesn’t make me immune to dehydration.”

John leans over and kisses her hair before guiding them down the hallway again. “Humor me, sweetheart. Let Jen stick you in a scanner real quick.”

“Only if Daniel and Rodney are out of the woods.”

“Deal.” He squeezes her hip where his hand has settled.

Jen is on his side when he gets there. “Oh, Rodney’s fine, and with Doctor Jackson it’s just a waiting game,” she says. “Elizabeth, go ahead and lie down in the main scanner, will you? While that’s running I’d like to change your bandages, John.”

Elizabeth scowls as she turns to him. “Bandages?”

“Just a few shrapnel scrapes,” he mutters. “You get looked at, I get looked at, yeah?”

He takes off his jacket and shirt, wincing as the bandages and cuts pull with his movements. This is always the worst part of a mission, the coming down, when all of the pain and fear settles in and he has nothing to distract himself. And Keller isn’t super gentle un-taping the gauze, either.

She’s running a stinging rinse over his wounds when her tablet beeps. “Oh… well, no wonder you’re not feeling well, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth slips out of the scanner. “God. Do I even want to hear it?”

“It’s not a huge deal, all things considered,” Jen assures them. “Your nanites must’ve been affected by the wraith stunner-- makes sense, since they’re electric, even if you’re the source of their electricity. I’m sure when they do their thing and replenish themselves, you’ll feel much better. But I’m guessing that could take twelve to twenty-four hours.”

John reaches out to take Elizabeth’s hand. “I guess you’ll just have to sleep it off.”

She nods, her eyes flicking over him in a distracted manner. “You’re one to talk… John, your back…” her fingers brush over his sensitive skin, but Jen clears her throat.

“Doctor Weir, please don’t touch any of the area I’m disinfecting. None of his wounds are deep, but I’m worried about infection if I don’t clean them properly.”

“Sorry, Jen,” Elizabeth murmurs. John hisses as the doctor douses him again. Elizabeth’s frown deepens. “You got pretty roughed up, huh?”

Her worrying over him is exactly what he <i>doesn’t</i> want. “My ears are ringing a little and I won’t be sleeping on my back for a couple days. I got lucky, really.”

“Don’t forget the two broken ribs,” Jen interjects.

Elizabeth’s expression becomes vacant, but she comes back to herself enough to give him her ‘brave face’ smile. “Looks like we both need a little R&R.”

He leans forward to bury his face in her shoulder. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

Elizabeth’s fingers card through his hair, and just when the niceness of holding onto her is starting to overtake the pain from his back, Jennifer interrupts again.

“Elizabeth, please,” the doctor sighs. “You two can hang on as tight as you want as soon as I get the clean bandages on.”

“Sorry, Jen.”

Before they escape the infirmary, John steals a few shelf-stable cold packs. In Elizabeth’s quarters, he finds his way through the dark in concession to her headache, looking for a washcloth or something in her bathroom. Returning to bed, he finds her in one of his old air force t-shirts, hugging a pillow with her eyes screwed shut. He leans down to press a kiss to her temple, laying the wrapped ice pack on her head when she whimpers slightly. “How’s that?”

She lets out a sigh of pleasure. “Really nice. Are you too sore for me to use you as a pillow?”

“Never,” he promises, slipping into her bed. “You scared me today, ‘Lizabeth.”

She pouts at him. “Me? You got blown up.”

He pets her hair absently. “You may be nearly invincible, but if the wraith had decided to feed on you, the nanites wouldn’t have done shit.”

“It was all just terrible timing,” Elizabeth sighs. “I’m just glad we’re back in our own bed.”

“Get some sleep, hon,” John mutters.

“You too.” She nuzzles into his neck. “I’ll still be here if the nightmares wake you up.”

He closes his eyes. “Which one of us d’you think will wake up screaming first?”

“Probably me,” she sighs, “but I’m expecting you to be restless tonight, with your back covered in bandages.”

He grimaces. “If I don’t move, it doesn’t hurt… just feels kinda hot and sore.”

“I’m jealous,” Elizabeth groans. “I swear my head is only getting worse, not better.”

“I can crack a fresh ice pack for you if you want,” he offers. They’re within reach on his nightstand.

“No, it’s cold enough.” She nestles against him even closer. “I just need to fall asleep. Should’ve asked for more sleeping pills.”

John knows she has to take a higher dosage thanks to the nanites processing the medicine out of her system. “I can rub your back until you fall asleep?”

It’s almost too dark to tell, but he thinks she smiles. “You’re too good to me.”

He begins tracing patterns up and down her spine. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

Her voice is already slow and sleepy. “I love you, too.”

#sga #stargate atlantis #sga fic #john sheppard #elizabeth weir #sheppard x weir #stargate atlantis fic #julie writes

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