#i swear to the earth and all that comes from it quit spreading this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterforme · 7 months ago

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley starts building his daughter's playset with a little help from an unexpected visitor. He wants to finish all of his projects and take care of you and do as much as he can now that he's home. There's so much he wants to get done, it might be time to make a to-do list.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, oral, pregnancy, bit of angst

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. His afternoon nap the previous day turned into one that lasted into the evening when you got up with him and cooked him dinner before going back to bed. His plan was to come home and take care of everything so you didn't have to, but so far you made him homemade chicken fajitas and lulled him to sleep with your fingers in his hair, twice.

But today, he was determined to return the favor. He wanted to get started on building the jungle gym, and he wanted to get in a few reps on his own workout equipment in the garage. He'd clean up the kitchen and take Tramp for a walk later, too. If he got started now, he might be able to build the entire jungle gym frame for his daughter. His daughter. He ran his hands over his face as you snoozed right next to him in bed. Would he ever stop being on the verge of tears when he thought about it?

There was a list of names he liked in the Nugget notebook which was still tucked away in his duffle bag. He had a favorite, but he didn't want to try to convince you that it was perfect until he heard which ones you liked. But he knew it would be perfect.

"Roo?"

He was just about to slip out of bed when you rolled toward him, reaching for him groggily like you couldn't quite believe he was really home. "There's my Baby Girl," he whispered, letting his hand settle on your belly now that you were awake. "And my Nugget."

In an instant, you pushed him onto his back, kissing him as he cradled you with both hands. Your bump wasn't very big yet, but it was noticeable, and he didn't want to hurt you. God he missed waking up next to you, and it was obvious you'd missed him, too. You deepened the kiss, your tongue dipping between his parted lips until you were tasting his mouth. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest through a layer of cotton as you dragged your fingers through his hair before letting them trail down his body to the waistband of the shorts he fell asleep in.

"Okay," he grunted, already hard for you as you ran your index finger inside the elastic. "Take it easy, Sweetheart. Wanna make this last." He rolled you gently onto your back as you cupped him inside his shorts, your thumb stroking his length. You squeezed his balls gently, spreading your legs wide. He glanced down your body as you smirked at him. "If you're gonna show off that pretty pussy, I'll put my mouth all over it."

"Bradley," you moaned, turning your head to the side. How on earth that bashful smile could make him even wilder, he had no idea. But just when he ran his thumb along your wet slit and tickled your ear with his mustache, someone started pounding on the front door.

You squeaked and jolted beneath him, but not in the way he wanted. "What the fuck?" he growled, easing his body off of yours. Once he was standing, he tried to adjust himself in his shorts, but it was obvious he was hard. Then there was more pounding.

"It's your first weekend home. Did you seriously invite someone over here this early, Bradley?" you asked, squinting as you reached for your phone. "It's seven o'clock!"

"No," he grunted. "I didn't even talk to anyone! I just wanted to eat your pussy in peace."

He stormed out of the bedroom, adjusting himself as he went. Tramp was already pacing back and forth and whimpering at the front door when Bradley saw Jake's car parked in front of the house. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." He wrenched the door open and found Jake standing there with some grocery bags and a box of donuts. "What do you want?" Bradley barked while Tramp started licking the unwanted visitor's leg.

Jake strolled inside like he wasn't interrupting Bradley's blissful weekend of giving his wife head and finding out his Nugget is a girl. "I brought all of the groceries and everything," Jake answered, heading for the kitchen, completely unfazed by Bradley in nothing but his compression shorts. "Welcome home, by the way. Looks like the perfect day to start on that playset."

Bradley didn't particularly want to jump down his throat, especially since Jake had been the one to promise to get the damn thing built for the baby if he didn't make it home in one piece. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked, and then he heard your voice from down the hallway.

"Is that Jake?"

"Yes," Bradley and Jake replied at the same time. And then you appeared wearing that old shirt and a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and your glasses, and he wanted to drag you back to bed and put his mouth everywhere.

"What the hell?" you asked, stomping right up to Jake, clearly annoyed that Bradley's face wasn't between your thighs. "You practically woke us up!"

"Well, that's not completely true," Bradley muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from you.

Jake checked the clock on the microwave. "It's 7:18. When you texted me last night and said Rooster was home, you told me to come over around seven."

"I meant seven in the evening!" you said, flailing your arms. "Like a normal person!"

Jake just shrugged and bit into a donut. "I brought the groceries you asked for."

Bradley watched you and saw the exact moment you caved. The annoyance on your face melted away as you grabbed a cream donut from the box. "Wait, why did you ask Jake to bring groceries over?"

You nibbled on the donut and snuggled up against Bradley, looking up at him as you said, "I wanted to make Reuben his cookies today, but I didn't want to leave you to go to the store."

He kissed some powdered sugar from your lips and whispered, "You're the sweetest thing."

You pressed your cheek to his chest and said, "Since he's here, you might as well get Jake to help you with the pallets on the driveway since I can't lift anything that heavy."

Bradley cringed just thinking about it. "You will not be lifting a fucking finger, Sweetheart. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Jake over your head and asked, "Feel like helping me get started on the playset?"

He had half of a second donut in his mouth as he mumbled, "I thought that's why I was here."

----------------------------

Bradley didn't put any more clothing on, and that was a-okay with you. He just added his work boots to the mix. Those black compression shorts were working overtime as he and an equally shirtless Jake hauled everything from the driveway to the backyard. He already cleared out the area where the playset would go, framed it in with long wood planks and filled it with gravel, and today they would start assembling the frame.

Your plan to make five dozen cookies for Reuben kept getting derailed as you wandered over to the sliding glass door every five minutes or so. The yard wasn't very big, and now most of it would be taken up by the patio, shed and playset, but you'd let your husband build anything he wanted back there. He was so excited about the baby, it made you feel lightheaded.

You were pregnant with a girl. Maybe she'd have Bradley's wavy hair. Maybe she would look just like him. You leaned against the open door frame and watched the guys as they argued about a drill bit setting and smiled. When you caught Bradley's eye, he shouted out, "I love you," before continuing with his discussion. He loved you so well, you already knew he'd be just as devoted to his daughter.

The oven started beeping, letting you know it had preheated. You ran your hand down your body and whispered, "Your father is going to spoil you rotten." Then you put the first tray of chocolate chip cookie dough in the oven, and within minutes your entire house smelled amazing. You baked so many cookies for Reuben, you didn't see how he would even be able to eat all of them before they got stale, so you shaped the last batch into little heart cookies with your fingers before tossing them in the oven.

Then when you took a bite out of one of the cookies that was cooling on the counter, you felt her. It was that same light, fluttering sensation as last time when you tried to eat a piece of candy on Halloween. "Hi," you whispered, voice laced with excitement. "Do you have a sweet tooth?" There was more fluttering, and you grabbed at the edge of the counter as you laughed. "You do! Are you going to eat everything I bake just like your dad?"

You closed your eyes and chewed the cookie slowly, letting yourself linger in the kitchen over the feel of your daughter doing some kind of a wild somersault for you.

"It's getting hot out," came Bradley's voice through the open door. "Let's grab some drinks before we drill the brackets into place." Once he was inside with Jake, he started digging around in the refrigerator, retrieving two cans of beer and two water bottles. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he handed Jake a bottle and a can. He was eyeing you cautiously where you stood with your hand on your belly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, and now both men were looking at you. "The Nugget was just doing some backflips."

"She was?" Bradley asked in excitement, leaving his forgotten drinks on the counter next to the refrigerator. In an instant, he was on his knees in front of you, yanking your shirt up and kissing your belly button while his big, warm hands settled against you. "Is she still?"

"She?" Jake asked with a smile, and you smiled back while Bradley shushed him.

"I think it's still too early for you to feel anything this way," you whispered, tugging your fingers through Bradley's sweaty hair as his stubbled cheek came to rest on your bump.

"Hey, little Nugget," he murmured while Jake took his drinks and slipped back outside. "Can you let Daddy feel like one little thump?" You could feel her squirming around while he talked, but she was probably still too small for him to get what he wanted. "Please?"

You didn't rush him. Bradley just knelt there with his eyes closed for a few minutes while you played with his hair. Now that Jake knew you were having a girl, you may as well just call your parents this week and tell all of your friends as well.

Bradley groaned and hopped to his feet as soon as Jake started up one of his power tools on the patio. He kissed you, his sun-warmed torso pressed against you as he said, "I need to make sure he doesn't break anything." You were still laughing as he rushed outside.

---------------------------

The backyard was coming together nicely. After you fed Jake dinner and he finally left, Bradley undressed you and picked you up, setting you down on the edge of the counter where you could look out the window as the sky darkened. "You got a lot done today," you moaned while Bradley spread your legs and ate your pussy, picking up where he left off this morning. "Such a dedicated Daddy."

"Anything for the Nugget," he groaned before licking a long stripe up to your clit. His forehead bumped your growing belly which thrilled him as he slowly, meticulously brought you every bit of pleasure you should have had in bed earlier. His mind was swirling with all of the projects he had to do and the torn apart attic, and he was still exhausted from being away for so long. But he got lost in your taste and the sounds you were making as soon as he started sucking gently on your clit.

"You know what that fucking mustache does to me," you gasped while he tried not to grin. His fingers found your dainty tattoo, and he sucked on your clit a little harder until you were begging him to fuck you. He wanted to tell you no and draw your orgasm out of you on the kitchen counter, but then you demanded, "I want to come on your cock."

Carefully, so he didn't dare hurt you, he helped you slide off the counter and into his arms. "If this is uncomfortable for you, then you need to tell me, Baby Girl." But you were already spinning around and pressing your gorgeous ass back against him.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Bradley was more than happy to oblige.

He lined himself up with your slick entrance and pushed himself deep as he said, "I thought you told me you weren't as horny in the second trimester."

You were whimpering his name before you got control. "Well now that you're home, I guess I am."

"Music to my ears."

He went slowly, making sure you felt everything, and he cupped your belly and your fucking delicious breasts while you held onto the counter. Your body felt different to him, but in so many ways it was exactly the same. Your response never changed; you always welcomed him knowing he'd get you there no matter what. And you gripped him tight, rolling your hips back to meet him, stroke for stroke.

When he plucked at your nipples, you arched your back, and when he rolled your clit between his fingers, you started to come. He was right there, too, and you pushed him over the edge when you said, "Make a mess of my pussy, Roo."

"Damn it," he growled, lips pressed to your shoulder as he filled you up and kept himself thrust deep to enjoy the squeeze of your orgasm around him. When you straightened up but held him snug inside you, your head tipped back against his shoulder. "How was that, Sweetheart?" he crooned, and you moaned. Then your stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled.

"I'm so hungry. Didn't we just eat dinner?"

"My little Nugget is growing," he whispered, letting his chin rest on your shoulder so he could look at your tits. He brought his hands up so he could swipe his thumbs along your nipples. "I swear these fucking thing are getting bigger by the day," he mused while you reached for the plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. You held it up and let him take a bite before finishing the rest of it yourself. "Weren't these supposed to be for Reuben?" he asked.

You pointed to the island where several gallon sized bags were filled with cookies. "His are regular. The little heart shaped ones in this container are for you."

Bradley could have stood there forever with his hands all over the front of you and his softening cock still inside your pussy while you fed him heart shaped cookies and told him the baby was moving around again. "I want to feel her," he whispered.

Your head tipped back again as you said, "I know, Roo. Pretty soon she'll be kicking up a storm, excited about meeting her dad."

Then you started yawning and he finally took a reluctant step away from you. "It's time for bed," he said, patting your ass. "It was an early morning with Jake showing up and everything." He followed you to the bathroom and helped you clean up his cum from your legs, and then he waited until you were done washing your face and brushing your teeth to lead you to bed. He handed you a clean pair of his boxer briefs and watched you pull them up so the elastic sat just below your bump. He smiled, and before you could pull on his ancient UVA shirt, he pulled you closer.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, giving him a coy look. "You ready to go for round two?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you ready to go for round two?" You were smiling but already stifling another yawn when he guided you toward the bed and tugged his shirt over your head. "You need to rest. I'll fuck you twice tomorrow."

You pulled the blanket up and whispered, "This is all Jake's fault."

Bradley snorted as he pulled the blanket back down, yanked up the shirt and leaned down to press his lips to your warm breasts. You whimpered as he kissed both nipples and ran his nose along your perfectly soft skin. "I can't get enough of these fucking things. My god, Sweetheart." He forced himself to pull the shirt back into place when you started to squirm, quickly kissing your bump first. After he removed your glasses and set them aside, he reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Aren't you getting in bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll clean the kitchen and let Tramp out first, and then I'll be in. I love you both."

"Love you, Roo," you curled up on your side, already falling asleep when you added, "You know what I'm hungry for?"

"What's that, Baby Girl?"

"Hot sauce."

He had to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Finally. I'll take care of that tomorrow, too. I'll just add it to my list. Two rounds of sex, more playset building, and some hot sauce."

You were already sound asleep.

-----------------------------

When you got up on Sunday morning, Bradley and Tramp were nowhere to be found, but both Broncos were in the driveway. "Roo?" You were met with silence as you made yourself some coffee and filled a glass with water. He had covered the refrigerator in rows of ultrasound photos, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way he used up all of the magnets. You picked up one of the now stale donuts that Jake left, and that's when you found a note from your husband.

Walking Tramp to the beach. Back soon. I have my phone. Tell the Nugget I love her.

You smiled, looked down at your belly and said, "Your Daddy loves you." The way she immediately started to squirm and flutter around had you reaching for the counter. "Feels like you love him, too."

You moved his note to the side, and your fingers brushed a handwritten list, partially folded up and sitting on top of all of Bradley's unopened mail that you'd collected. The last time you went through his things, you ended up in a very dark place after you saw the results from the sperm test he took. You didn't want to do that again. You could just want until he got home. He wouldn't be long now.

But you stood there and read the first two things written which weren't hidden from your view. Contact lawyer. Send check to Nicole.

Who was Nicole? And why was Bradley contacting a lawyer without you? Your skin prickled as you reached for the piece of paper before pushing it further away. You considered going to get your phone from the bedroom to call him and tell him to come home, but instead you stood there and got frustrated. You did not want to do this to yourself again.

When he walked inside a few minutes later wearing snug gym shorts and a white tank, he was all smiles as Tramp ran for his water bowl. "Morning," he rasped, yanking his aviators down lower on his nose as he hung up the leash. "You look cute."

You didn't though. You hadn't showered, and you didn't even brush your teeth yet. "Can we talk about what's on this list?"

His brow furrowed and he froze. "What list?"

"This one," you said as calmly as you could. "The one where you wrote about contacting a lawyer and someone named Nicole."

He made his way over to you and asked, "How much did you read?" as he tossed his sunglasses on the counter.

You crossed your arms over your bump and frowned. "That's all I read."

"Good." He snatched it up, unfolded it and handed it to you. "It's my list of things I want to take care of today or tomorrow."

You read the list from top to bottom.

Contact lawyer

Send check to Nicole for permit

Order album for ultrasounds

Call Bradley Ross

Hot sauce reservation for my Baby Girl

Text Reuben

Offer to babysit Jeremiah

Order a new drill bit to replace the one Jake broke

Decide on Thanksgiving plans

"Oh," you said, meeting his eyes as you handed it back to him. "Who's Bradley Ross?"

He folded up the list again as he said, "The contractor who is going to re-do our attic however you want it."

"Oh." You pressed your lips together before you asked, "Are you going to tell me why you want to talk to a lawyer and who Nicole is?"

"Come here," he rasped, and you tucked yourself into his arms, your lips brushing his paper airplane tattoo. "I want a lawyer to add the Nugget to my will. And I think you should come with me to make sure literally everything is in order. for yourself, too." You nodded against him, and then he added, "And I really don't want to tell you who Nicole is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I've never even met her, and I have no idea who she actually is."

"That sounds weird."

"It's not, I promise, Sweetheart."

You looked up into his eyes, his gaze soft as he ran his hand slowly up and down your back. You already felt better just talking to him. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the surprise had better be a good one."

He nodded. "It's something for our anniversary. You'll love it. Now why don't you bring your coffee outside and keep me company while I work on the playset?"

You were starting to melt. "I could do that."

"Then we can take a shower together?" he asked hopefully. "You can wash my hair?"

You melted a little bit more. "I would love that."

"And then I'll take you out to dinner."

You sat out on the patio in the sun for a while, not doing much to help Bradley other than occasionally catcall and make sure he drank enough water. Then you took a luxurious shower, complete with hair washing and sex against the wall. He was taking you up to the hot sauce restaurant in Del Mar where you had your first date, and you squeezed yourself into the red dress you wore that night.

Bradley was acting like his brain was short circuiting, and maybe it was. "Holy fucking hell," he groaned, gripping the edge of the dresser when he came to check to see if you were ready to go. He was staring at you like he was in agony as he bit down on his knuckle. He let out a soft wheezing sound before he said, "You're pregnant. In your red dress."

You looked down at yourself; you didn't think it looked that bad. "Yes?"

He rushed forward and grabbed your hand. "That's so fucking sexy. We've gotta go. Now. Or else we'll never leave the house."

"Roo!" you laughed as he pulled you along. "I don't even have shoes on."

He threatened to carry you everywhere before you successfully put on a cute pair of shoes. Then you and he dropped the cookies off at Reuben's place, and you gave the other aviator a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for looking after Bradley. And then the two of you were back in the blue Bronco, winding up the coastal highway as the sun set over the ocean. It was nearly Thanksgiving. It was almost your first wedding anniversary. The Nugget was back to doing somersaults. And finally, you were craving hot sauce again.

-----------------------------

This man already loves his kiddo. BG is about to have a do over for the steak dinner that got ruined when she was in Annapolis. I still don't know what they are doing for Thanksgiving (good thing it's on his to-do list), but they will definitely be celebrating their first anniversary very soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

507 notes · View notes

pparadiselost · 4 months ago

Text

milk and honey.

bull hybrid! ushijima x farmer! human! reader in the midst of the summer heat, ushijima decides he wants to cross the line. warning(s): nsfw, hybrid au, hybrid x human, heat cycles, slight public sex, breeding, creampie, allusion to cock bulges, mentions of cervix kissing, reader described to be smaller in size than ushijima minors do not interact. author's note: hello! this is my entry as part of the house of solis occasum's summer-themed fic exchange! i was assigned to write for @stopisa, so i hope you enjoy reading this, isa!

it’s hot.

the air buzzes with the tremor of life awakening, and the heat hangs amidst the air like a thick quilt enveloping the earth. this is one of the few times throughout the year that you’re actually grateful to wake up early, otherwise you’d be out in the fields at the mercy of the summer sun. still, you can feel your skin start to stick to your clothes as you leave the comfort of your house and make your way towards the picturesque meadows where you’ll spend most of your morning.

it’s not much, being a farmer and raising a hybrid on your farm, but it’s honest work. you do your best to take pride in it, and being on a small farm means that you can form a special connection with every single little part of the land and its inhabitants.

maybe you’re going insane after staying in the countryside this long, but sometimes you swear your crops love you back as much as you love them. the tomatoes with their lanky vine-like hands wave hello as you spread fertilizer around them, and the summer-time flowers enjoy wiggling their petals at you like they’re little ladies dusting off their petticoat dresses. as much as you would love to tiptoe through the greenery and see what kind of gossip the chatty breeze brings you, you have a more pressing task at hand.

a picnic basket with a red plaid blanket wrapped around it bounces off of your hip as you make your way towards the small cottage-like structure on top of the hill. you chose to take the few minute walk to admire the sun-kissed strands of grass greeting you hello as the tiramisu cake dust-colored dirt crunched against the bottom of your boots. yes, this was all work, but finding the silver lining in the beautiful was what made the work worth it.

you give a small huff, feeling the summer heat pressing against your body as you knock against the entrance to the cottage. you can hear heavy footsteps from the inside, and you don’t have to wait too long before the door carefully swings open. the smell of clean hay and cloves of cinnamon emerge from the interior, an odd comfort amidst the stark darkness that linger within. your eyes trickle upwards towards the top of the doorframe, where a figure easily looms above you. his silhouette engulfs you wholly without another word, cloaked in the shadows and the safety of the little hutch atop the hill.

you beam innocently. “good morning! how are you today? did you sleep well? i hope i haven’t woken you up or anything…! i know summers are rough for you, since you have a tendency to go into h-”

he coughs loudly to cut you off as quickly as he can.

he steps forward slightly, and he ducks his head so he doesn’t bump against the wooden doorframe. you knew from the get-go that taking a hybrid into your care was no easy task, but you really had your work cut out from you when you first took ushijima wakatoshi into part of your life. you never regretted a single second of the time you’ve spent getting to know him, but you definitely had your work cut out for you in earning his trust. you like to think that you’ve done a good job by putting a roof over his head, food in his belly, a wide world at his fingertips to explore, and a companion in the form of you. the poor boy had always been formal, polite, and it wasn’t until too long ago that he quit keeping you at an arm’s distance and let you come in closer to his guarded heart.

you wonder what he thinks, sometimes. even now, when looking up at him, the two of you couldn’t have more disparate appearances. whereas you’re your run-of-the-mill human farmer, ushijima is huge. he’s a proud but self-contained bull hybrid, and he towers over you like it’s nothing. he’s built like a true bull too, with nothing but layers of muscle on him that honest to god makes you swoon a little if you think about it too much. perched atop his head of olive-greenish brown hair are some tiny cow ears with a little tag stating his connection to you, and placed firmly around his neck is most prized possession: a cowbell that you gifted specially to him.

he’s beautiful. hybrid or not.

he nods gruffly, and he hopes you don’t notice the light shade of pink dusting his usually stoic cheeks. “i slept well, thank you. how about you? do you have a lot of work?”

you would never do anything without his explicit permission, so everything he has to his name right now is all things that the two of you agreed on. he wasn’t fond of the idea of becoming your hybrid “pet” and opted to ask for a separate place to live, claiming that he preferred the hard boundary to remind himself of the rift between human and hybrid. and so you complied. in time, ushijima felt less like a bull hybrid and more like a neighbor that happened to be a hybrid, but there were moments where he’d remind you of the metaphorical line he had drawn in the sand.

“not today! i want to spend some time with you. if you aren’t busy…,” you gleefully hold up the basket into his field of vision, “do you want to have a picnic with me?”

his gentle, brown eyes widen. you want to hunt down whoever said bull hybrids were uncontrollable and dangerous and smack them upside the head. ushijima is nothing but considerate to you, and looking at the way his eyes twinkle at the idea of spending some time with you and sharing a meal only proves your faith in him.

“...if it’s alright with you, i would love to.” he nods again. he shyly folds his hands, and your grin widens. you grab for his big palms, tugging him out of his cottage and out into the beautiful summery world unfurling in front of you. despite his massive size, he stumbles out of the cottage and barely gets to shut his front door before you’re tugging on him like he’s a ragdoll.

and he lets you. he lets you usher him past his front gate and back towards the green, green meadows filled with flowers and sweet grass and all sorts of butterflies just waiting to become the backdrop to your lunch escapade. you’re so small and so sweet in comparison to him, and even though he could crush you like you were nothing if he so chooses to, you always come to him with open arms and a sunny smile that disarms him instantaneously.

he’s sure that’s why it didn’t take long for him to fall for you. as you practically dance in front of him, leading him past the thick wooden gates and into a secluded field onto your farm, he wonders if you have any clue as to how he feels.

…

it’s hot.

you’re glad to be sitting in the shade when the unrelenting summer heat amps up, and the sun lingers high in the sky as it takes its midday rule with an iron fist. ushijima’s grateful for the cool breeze under the trees as well, and he’s especially grateful for the fact that you had the foresight for the heat when he notices the ice packs placed inside of the picnic basket. the red blanket contrasts the vibrant green of the meadow, and he sits calmly in the center as you unpack the goodies you prepared for the two of you.

“juice? do you prefer watermelon or strawberry?” you hold up two chilled bottles up.

ushijima blinks at you. “you can pick the one you like better. i like both equally.”

“you’re being too nice!” you laugh as you hand him one of the bottles. he watches with keen eyes as you twist the cap open and take a hearty swig. his jaw tightens ever-so-slightly when he sees the way your throat bobs with each swallow, and a small dot of red juice beads at the corner of your mouth. you let out a clearly refreshed gasp when you lower the bottle, and the tiniest string of saliva connects your lips to the mouth of the bottle for a split second.

he forces a deep breath through his nose, and he lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment. no, this was no situation to act in such a profane way, and he had to know his place. he instead drops his gaze to his own drink, focusing on the way the cool material of the bottle felt against his hot hands, and he follows your example in opening his own share and taking a sip. the decadent taste of sweet fruit fills his mouth, and it goes down the hatch in one thirsty gulp.

“i made sandwiches! and don’t worry, they’re vegetarian just for you.” your singsongy voice breaks him out of his short lived reprieve, and you gesture at him to come closer to you. ushijima feels something deep inside of his stomach stir like a beast awakening from a long slumber when he sees your unsuspecting smile, but this one doesn’t go down as easily when he swallows again.

you pick one out of the basket and hand it over to him. “look, look! i found a guide online about cutting them into animals. and they even had a cow tutorial, see? i made them all cows, because they reminded me of you! what do you think?”

the sandwiches are tiny in his big palms, but he can see the care you’ve put into making each one. they’re a little crude around the edges, most likely because it’s your first time trying to cut them out in such a specific shape, but ushijima thinks they’re adorable. frankly speaking, you could have put slop on a plate and given it to him, and he’d still eat it all up so long as you were the one who made and delivered the food.

he stares at the sandwiches for a bit longer, trying to push the thought of your small fingers assembling the foot together or the way your face might have been scrunched up in concentration. he bites down on the inside of his cheek, and something akin to shame and embarrassment flickers like a flame in his gut. it’s wrong of him to feel this way towards you, to lust after everything you do. part of him wants to blame his animalistic nature, the undeniable instinct nestled deep inside of his brain, and the fact that it’s only a matter of time before his hormones overtake him and he’s plunged into the depths of his yearly mating cycle. there’s nothing more he would love to do than to overwhelm you with that primal yearning, to satisfy his own bodily cravings and make you his mate.

but it would be wrong. he knows it’s wrong. the rational part of him scolds himself thoroughly, that this was the entire reason he’s so adamant about keeping some distance between the two of you. it hurts him, but it would hurt you more both physically and emotionally, if he were to go rampant and tear into you like some kind of uncontrollable animal.

he lets out a deep exhale and decides to choke down his food. even entertaining these kinds of thoughts are dangerous, and he doesn’t want whatever thinly veiled restraint he has left in him to snap. you’re rambling on about wanting to take a nap in the afternoon sun next to him, but your words go in one ear and out the other. all he can focus on is the dulcet tones of your voice and how his cheeks are heating up. he wants to blame the summer heat, but he knows he can’t. the heat comes from somewhere far deeper, somewhere far more sinister, somewhere more base.

his belly feels unnaturally tight, and he hastily stuffs another bite of sandwich into his mouth to distract himself.

this is going to be a difficult picnic for him.

…

it’s hot.

ushijima’s hands are big, and his palms are rough as he grips at your waist. you can feel beads of sticky sweat trickling down your back and your forehead, and your legs tremble as he grinds down on you. he’s not pressing his full weight on you yet, but his body feels heavy. it makes your pussy clench around nothing, feeling the sheer size difference between your bodies.

“you’re… you’re torturing me.” he grunts. he has you pinned down underneath him, your back pressed up against the scrunched fabric of the picnic blanket. ushijima clings to your body. you can feel him humping your bulge against your soft ass, your clothed cunt, your plush thighs… his fingers claw at the waistline of your pants, like he’s itching to tear your clothes off and dig right into you. but ever the gentleman, his thinly veiled restraint is kicking in.

this is your fault. you know it is. you had casually brought up how attractive he had looked and what a shame it was that he was so distant at times, that had he maybe been a regular neighbor of yours rather than a hybrid, you might have given him a shot.

he huffs through his nose. “you have no idea what you do to me. you’re killing me. i don’t- i don’t know if i can hold myself back anymore.”

your stomach flutters, and you can feel your inner walls tightening up. fuck, you think the heat might be getting to you. it’s like being physically overwhelmed by the bull has flipped a switch in your brain, and you can feel your body acting before your mind can. you always knew ushijima was attractive, and you knew toeing the line by flirting with him was never going to land you anywhere good but you couldn’t help yourself. he’s everything you could ever want in a man.

a low groan lodges itself in his throat as waves of pleasure shoot up his body. he shouldn’t be acting this way, but something in the back of his brain keeps egging him out, the onslaught of the early stages of his heat gripping his sanity. you look so small and so caught off guard, and ushijima thinks you look ravishing. you’d look adorable folded in half underneath him, getting your brains fucked out by his thick bull cock in the middle of a field, getting that tight hole of yours fucked full of his cum.

your scent fills his nose as he bows his head, burying his head into the crook of your neck. you’re sweaty and sticky, but every part of you feels so good. ushijima feels like his body has been set on fire, and his cock strains in his pants. it hurts. his dick throbs and twitches, desperate for your attention. whatever little friction he’s getting from more or less mounting you and dry humping you out in the open isn’t enough for him. he needs more, needs to feel more of your tiny body, needs to indulge in you until he’s had his fill.

“ushijima-,” you gasp out. he bucks his hips into you, and you cry out unexpectedly when he nudges up against your clit. a shockwave of pleasure jerks through you, and you arch your back into his chest. “ah- shit-”

“say you want me,” he rasps into your skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he tries to ground himself. his head is spinning, and all he can register is how good it feels to have your body pressed up against his. “tell me you want this too. otherwise- get away from me. run away from me. i’ll hurt you.”

your voice is like a hard lump in the back of your mouth, and you wrap your arms around him. his skin is scaldingly hot, almost feverish as his heat starts to run its course through his body. he trembles when you touch him, and he leans into you, hungry for your attention. your own body feels hot too, and you want him to have his way with you, breaching past the tension building up between the two of you. your own selfish intentions aside, if it provides any kind of physical relief to him, that’s more than enough of a reason to let him have you.

“it’s- it’s okay,” you breathe. your fingers trickle up his spine, and he gasps into your skin when your fingertips brush over the cowbell. you can feel his bulge twitching in between your legs, and you don’t want to linger too much on how you can feel yourself getting wet too. it doesn’t take a genius to feel how big the tent in his pants is, and you’re simultaneously anticipating and fearful of just how monstrous his bull cock might be. “you can have me. i want you- i want to make you feel good too.”

those are dangerous words. you can feel his grip on you tighten, and you shudder as he pulls you closer, basically thrusting up into your clothed crotch. you know you’re both going to be leaking messes when you finally take each others’ clothes off, but you can’t help it when it feels so good to feel his whole body weight crushing you like this as he tries to imitate the motions of fucking you.

“are you sure?” his voice is deep and heady and heavy, and it makes your cunt clench. your thoughts are slowly clouding over. your stream of consciousness is slowing down, getting replaced with a gnawing sensation deep in your gut, and you let out breath cries as you grind against him, working your hips in tandem with his needy thrusts. “i’ll hurt you- you’re a human, and i- i don’t know if you can take me.”

you don’t care about any of that. all you can feel is how hot the air is around the two of you and the heat prickling all over your body. “i don’t care about that. i want you. i want you, wakatoshi- i want you to touch me.”

he grits his teeth when you choke out his first name, and his cock pulses noticeably. you have a precarious grip on his mind, dominating every single one of his waking thoughts, consuming him wholly with just how much he wants you. but if you’re not denying him, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep everything at bay.

you gasp as he tears your clothes off of you, and the shrill sound of his cowbell clanging desperately against his throat invades your ear. your shirt is quickly abandoned to the side, and your bra follows, tossed somewhere off into the grass. his hands are big as he gropes at your chest, calloused fingers playing with your pebbling nipples. you arch your back so that the softness of your tits fill out his hands better, and he moans as he grinds up against whatever he can reach. sparks of pleasure explode deep in his belly, and you shudder as he draws his hands down your chest and stomach.

“i’m going to ruin you,” he breathes. you’re not sure if it’s something he says as a promise or out of worry, but you don’t care. you want him, you want him to ruin you. you guide his hands down to your pants, and you fumble with getting the zipper down as he yanks the garment off of your legs.

ushijima thinks his heart is going to stop when he sees your nearly bare body, the expanses of your skin that existed only in his imagination now coming to life in front of him. his cock is so hard it almost hurts, and he wants nothing more than to tear your panties off and shove his entire length into you and thrust and thrust until the heat inside of his chest is gone. but he can’t and he won’t, not when he’s so viscerally aware of his shortcomings as a lover.

you watch him with wide eyes and your heart pounding inside of your chest as he wraps his fingers around the waistline of your panties. there’s a prominent wet spot in the seat from when he had grinded against you, a true animal in heat, and the thought of you being turned on as much as he is makes his mouth feel dry. your breath stalls when he drags them down slowly, past your thighs and down your knees, past your ankles until you’re left bare against the fabric of the picnic blanket, wetness dripping from your core.

he can’t tear his eyes off of you.

his hands wrap around your knees, and you lay there placidly as he separates your legs to slot his head in between your thighs. a wave of shyness overcomes you when he just sits in between your legs and stares, his hot breath fanning against your glistening folds as he takes a moment to simply process everything happening to him. his favorite human, his dearly beloved farmer, naked and laid out bare for him in a way that he might have only seen in the midst of his most intense wet dreams… it’s almost too good for him to believe.

“ushijima, i-,” your voice gives out mid-phrase when his tongue darts out from in between his lips and swirls around your cunt. he’s careful and cautious at first, mostly pressing sticky kisses to your throbbing clit and licking up and down your slit slowly. he lets out a heavy exhale, similar to a moan, when your fingers thread through his thick hair, gripping at him to ground yourself.

“i’m… i’m going to make you feel good first,” he mumbles against your entrance. “prep you for me… make you feel good so that my cum takes better inside of you.”

you gasp, tugging at his hair. his tongue swirls around your clit, and he suckles at you, swallowing down your arousal as if it’s the sweetest thing he’s tasted. you might as well be—his cock is straining like crazy against his pants, but he’s more caught up in how good it feels to have you fluttering and coiling around on the tip of his tongue like this. you’re so good and so sweet, so patient with him as his tongue explores your most sensitive parts.

everything about this was lewd, having a man going down on you in the middle of an open field where anyone could walk in and see you naked and moaning, but all you could focus on was the dull pangs of heat pulsing through your insides. he’s teasing your folds and circling your fluttering hole with his tongue so carefully, his ears perked for any sound you make.

he laps at your slit with his whole tongue, playing with your clit with each greedy lick. your thighs shake around his head, your legs pressed open by his strong hands. he’s being sweet to you, but at the same time, you’re completely at his mercy on what he decides to do.

“inside-,” you choke out, your voice so strained that you barely recognize yourself. “don’t just tease me outside, ushijima! put your tongue inside me too- feels so empty…”

you can feel his ears perk up when you whine for him, and you throw your head back with a whiny moan as he breaches your hole with the tip of his tongue. you might as well be a sugar cube dissolving inside of his mouth from how much you’re melting from the simplest of touches. what was it about him that made you act this way? you don’t get too long to think about it before he’s pumping his tongue in and out of you, searching desperately for that one sweet spot deep inside of you that’s sure to make you fall apart entirely.

you moan for him continually. pleasure dances all across your insides, and your walls keep coiling around him. ushijima savors the feeling, your soft gummy insides clinging to his tongue in search of any kind of stimulation. it’s a primal kind of feeling, having your bodies intertwined with one another out in the open, and ushijima likes the simplicity of it. he drools at how inviting your insides are, and his cock aches at the thought of finally plunging himself into you. he already knows that he’s going to basically fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until he’s slamming right up against your womb, making sure your body has no choice but to take his length and all of his cum as he mates you thoroughly.

“so good… you feel so good inside of me- ooh, you’re so deep-,” you grind your hips against his mouth, and he breathes hotly against you, matching your rhythm. he’s dreamt of your face all scrunched up in pleasure like this more times than he can count, and despite how awful he’s felt each and every time for thinking about his precious human farmer this way, he decides that he likes it. he likes the reality he has now, with you spread apart on his tongue, not caring for anything else in the world except for him.

“gonna make you cum-,” he breathes, darkly and firmly, determined not to let you go until he’s had his fill. “can you feel it? does it make you feel good? do you like it when my tongue is inside you?”

the warm weight that’s restless inside of you needs an out. your blood feels like it’s boiling, like you’re genuinely going to start running a fever with how much heat suffocates you both inwardly and outwardly. you nod feverishly, your nails scraping against the rough surface of his horns. you grip at them and his hair interchangeably, and it’s all you can do cling to him as he ups his intensity. his fingers pry into your flesh, hungry to taste more of you.

“oh fuck- ushijima- you can’t do both at the same time-!” your entire body tenses up when two of his fingers slide into you without any resistance, and his mouth latches onto your clit to suckle on the sensitive nub like he can’t get enough. he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, almost as if to really fully feel the sensation of your walls seizing up against his knuckles.

“let me,” the bull breathes. your walls won’t quit fluttering and stretching out around his fingers, and whenever he spreads his fingers apart ever so slightly, you’re tensing up all around him and whining out so prettily. there’s so much blood rushing downwards to his crotch, and he knows he won’t be able to think straight for much longer. but he’s entranced by all the sweet reactions you’re giving him and he wants to keep egging you on this state, to memorize every detail until he’s sure you’ll continue to haunt him in his dreams. “you can take it. i know you can.”

you grit your teeth, helpless cries escaping from you as your pussy drinks in all of the new stimulation. he’s not giving you a break as he thrusts his fingers into you. he fingers you deep and slow, making sure you feel every part of him entering and exiting you. having your clit sucked like that isn’t helping you out either, and your stomach coils and unfurls, thrashing wildly inside of you as the arousal starts to make your brain go hazy.

“gonna cum, ushi- if you keep doing that, i’ll cum…!” you’re digging your fingers deep into his hair at this point, tugging wildly. he moans when he feels the stinging pain shoot down his spine. there’s nothing he wants to do more than to fuck his cock into you, but you can’t take him as you are right now. he has to work you open, get you used to taking his big fingers first, make sure he’s taking his time with you before he lets his selfishness get in the way.

“go ahead,” he pants against your inner thigh. “cum- cum for me.”

you think you’re going insane. your toes curl into the fabric of the picnic blanket, the once pristine material now warping and moving with how much the two of you are thrashing around. the heat building up inside of you is almost too much to take, and your vision is blurring over with tears. your walls won’t quit milking his fingers, clinging to his knuckles as if they don’t want him to leave you, like they should stay buried deep inside you so he can continue pressing his rough fingertips against that one spot that makes you swear you see stars. you’re pulsing around him so nicely, and your voice keeps rising in pitch, a telltale sign that you’re at your limit.

“there! right there-,” you swallow past all of your drool, “don’t stop- don’t stop, ushijima, i’m so close! i’m gonna cum, gonna cum all over your mouth- your fingers too- oh fuck, i can’t think! can’t think, can’t think, just need you inside me! i’m cumming- cumming…! gonna cum so hard…!”

he keeps the pace the way you like it best, the possessive twinge in his eyes savoring and enjoying the sight of your hips thrashing wildly. slick keeps leaking out of you, and he can’t wait to imagine how much more pleasure he’s going to be able to give you with his cock once this round is done. but for now, he keeps fucking you out on his thick fingers, listening to your pretty voice keening and crying out, pride swelling up inside of his broad chest at knowing that it’s him who’s finally getting you to fall apart.

“cumming-!!”

your vision gives out on you as pleasure crashes down on you. the world turns to white as you thrash uncontrollably in ushijima’s grasp, heat gushing from between your thighs as you cum with a loud cry. it’s hot, and every part of you feels sticky and warm. but even as you wail and writhe like a wounded animal, ushijima keeps going at it, determined to lap up every last drop of your orgasm. you think you’re going to suffocate to death with everything overwhelming your senses, your body pushed to its very limit with how greedy ushijima is.

you don’t even get a moment's worth of reprieve to collect yourself. your folds are still sensitive and slick, your chest heaving as you struggle to put enough air into your lungs. your vision is blurry, and your entire body feels numb and heavy, your brain blown out and fuzzy from the electric tingles buzzing in your core. fuck, you didn’t think you could cum this hard from getting eaten out, but you have no strength as you simply lay on the blanket. ushijima watches you with a kind of morbid curiosity as he slides himself out from between your legs, seemingly satisfied with the first orgasm out of many he’s going to rip from you.

“ushi-,” you choke out as he grabs your thighs, and a lump lodges in the back of your throat as he carefully presses your knees to your chest. a weak whimper dies out in your mouth as your dripping cunt is exposed to him, and he swallows noticeably as he hastily yanks his pants down with one hand.

“...oh my god,” you breathe, your eyes widening to the size of saucers when you see ushijima’s cock for the first time. you had no doubt that he would be big and thick, like any bull would be, but seeing it bare with your own two eyes and thinking about how that monster of a dick is going to go inside you makes your body go limp with both shock and a sick sense of anticipation. “you’re going to kill me.”

“i’m not going to kill you,” he breathes. he guides you to hold your legs with your hands, the sight of you folded in half so obediently a blessing to the heat-stricken bull. you let out a high pitched whine as he smacks his length tentatively against your slick-soaked entrance, and your stomach lurches at the sheer weight of his cock. he’s big in every sense of the word, swollen and engorged like it’s been born to break your pussy in two, and you flinch every time his tip collides with your clit.

his tip is big and red, pre-cum leaking from it in a way you didn’t know was physically possible. you knew ushijima had been holding himself back for a while, but his self-restraint is practically a miracle now that you’ve seen just how aroused he is. you grit your teeth as he rocks his hips against yours, grinding his cock in between your pussy lips. he’s coating his length with your combined juices, and your body lurches when you can feel the pangs of heat bubbling up inside of your gut again. you shouldn’t get turned on this quickly again, but with the hybrid looming over you and caging you in between his broad chest and the ground, you can’t help but feel helpless and horny at the thought of him breeding you and fucking you to his heart’s content.

“this-,” he sounds strained, “-this is why i ate you out. made you cum. otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to take it.”

his gaze falls on your face, and you swear your heart stops when his eyes lock on yours. his gaze is always firm, head held high, a little steely, but now, there’s a hint of warmth that makes your heart squeeze. his cock prods at your hole, his cockhead nestled right at your fluttering entrance almost as if he’s asking for permission.

“look at me,” he tells you. the strain in his voice is sweet, and you want to taste the sweetness against your own mouth. “i want you to look at me while i put it in. can you do that for me?”

you nod wordlessly, and you suck a deep breath in through your nose. you do your best to relax your tense body the best you can, but a sharp inhale breaks through your thoughts when you can feel him breach your cunt. a high pitched sound curls in the back of your throat as he pushes himself in, and you can immediately feel the stretch. your smaller body is already struggling to take him in, and your walls are clamping down on his girth, the ache in your muscles spreading across your crotch to the lower part of your stomach.

he’s trying to be so good for you, trying to be slow and gentle, but his mind nearly goes blank the instant he feels your velvety insides fluttering around him. he clenches his teeth. “fuck- ah- fuck-... i-i knew you’d be tight, but still- this is too much-”

“s-so big-,” you murmur, starstruck, struggling to keep your eye contact with him. he’s looking down at you as if he’s about to go mad, and you know he is. whatever minimal scrap of sanity left inside of his brain is hanging on by a thread, his animalistic instincts clawing and howling and screaming for the control he won’t give.

inch by inch, bit by bit, you do your best to focus on your breathing until he bottoms out inside of you. you’re suddenly grateful that you got at least a round in as prep; otherwise you’d be suffocating on the sheer size of his bullcock by now. it feels like he’s deep in your belly, and you don’t need to look down to feel the bulge from him nestled inside of you.

“oh fuck-,” he groans. the veins on the side of his neck look like they’re about to pop. “it went in… the whole thing’s in. oh god- you’re so tight… and wet- i’ll go crazy…��

he laid on top of you, your breaths mingling with one another as you both soaked in the sensation. you can feel him buried so deep inside you, reaching places that nothing else would have been able to. masturbating or using toys had never gotten the same effect as him putting his cock in, and you swear you feel him inside your stomach, pressing against your diaphragm. your chest feels tight, and you’re growing light-headed as you cling to ushijima’s body.

“can i- can i move?” ushijima moans. “please- you’re squeezing around me so much already- i can barely take it-”

“go ahead… i’ll be okay,” you reply. you moan when you feel him shift his hips, drawing them back. his cock rubs against your sensitive walls as he pulls out before slowly sinking his cock back into your hole, and the slow friction makes the sparks welling up inside of your gut go crazy. he’s moving so carefully, like he’s savoring every second of having your pussy wrapped around his cock.

it feels good. the stretch is getting to your head, and your body feels so much more sensitive than earlier. you blame your previous orgasm. his muscled thighs make contact with the underside of yours as he rocks his hips, fucking his cock in and out of you. you can feel him growing more and more bolder with each slow pump of his dick, your cunt enthusiastically suck him in and try to guide him towards the entrance of your womb.

you like whatever this fuzzy feeling consuming you is. you’re sure this is how ushijima wanted you from the very beginning as you start to lose your grip on reality. all you want to think about is the cock stretching you out, his heavy balls slapping noisily against the curve of your ass. there’s a slight ache in your hips and legs from being folded in half, but the angle at which he’s rutting against you makes you swear you see stars. he’s not letting a single stroke go to waste, grunting under his breath.

all that’s on his mind is keeping you like this. submissive and sweet, built to take all of his stifling affections, ushijima thinks that this might be the perfect reward for how long he’s waited and waited. edging himself to the thought of taking his human farmer wasn’t enough for him, and even though he knew that you were no hybrid, the right thing just wasn’t going to satisfy him. and now that he’s had a taste of your sweet cunt, he doesn’t think he can go back.

“faster-,” you mewl, your legs shaking. “you’re so deep inside of me, so big- so good- ooh, i can feel so much of you-”

the sound of your slurred voice, all fucked out and weak, makes him grit his teeth. he snaps his hips a bit harder into you, and you recoil back into the picnic blanket. pleasure slams and rattles against the inside of your skull, and you can hear the wet sounds of your cunt squelching around him. the two of you are being so ridiculously greedy, absolutely lost in the physical bliss of devouring each others’ bodies. ushijima’s fucking into you faster now, his cockhead bullying your deepest parts with each sharp plow.

you’re crying out incoherently, sobbing out broken moans each time he fucks into you. you can tell he’s doing his best for you, focusing more on your pleasure despite how much more he’s craved this. you feel heavenly wrapped this snugly around him, your juices leaking all around his swollen length. he doesn’t ever want to go back to jerking off using his hand now that he’s gotten you, and just feeling your smaller body tremble and having your sweet scent invade his senses makes him almost wonder if he’s dreaming.

“ushi- ushijima-,” you cry out to him. “oh, fuck, it feels so good! feels so good to have you inside me. waka- wakatoshi, please…!”

his hips stutter when you blurt out his first name. it’s like he doesn’t know how to process it, and he stops dead in his tracks. “you… you said my name.”

you whine loudly when he stops moving, the incessant hunger in your womb coming back with a fury. you want him to go back to fucking you, to bullying you with that stupidly huge cock of his. you grind your hips up towards him, desperately trying to stuff more of him inside you. “wakatoshi, please-! need more- need more of you, waka-”

he grits his teeth, and without another warning, he snaps his hips and fucks his whole cock straight into you. your words immediately die out on your tongue, and your mind goes completely blank as your body struggles just to process the feeling of his entire length getting stuffed up your tiny cunt. you can’t even breathe as he starts fucking into you roughly, slamming his hips down against yours, forcing you into a brutal mating press as he moves in and out, tip to base, leaving you with no choice but to take him.

whatever frayed restraint inside of him has snapped.

“you-,” he hisses. you’ve let go of your legs, and yet him being on top of you keeps you folded perfectly in half. you flail and struggle to grab onto whatever you can to anchor yourself, but he keeps plowing into you, like he’s determined to break your poor pussy. “you can’t just do that- you’re dangerous to me. i’m dangerous- you can’t just do things like that-!”

“sooo- so rough-!” is all you manage to cry out. pleasure and heat boils inside of your body, and your brain can’t seem to process all of the stimulation being shoved onto you. all you can manage to do right now is to get fucked out on his cock, the tightness building up inside of your womb now so big and restless that you think you can feel it in the back of your throat.

you’re really not going to last like this. not when he’s being so brutal, so possessive, so merciless with the way he’s fucking you. like a switch has been flipped in his brain, he’s gone from emulating the gestures of a touch starved lover to a true animal in heat.

“wanted to do this to you so fucking badly-,” the bull mutters under his breath. there’s a brutal thrust after each one of his pointed words. he looks down at you as if he’s going to eat you whole, and your pussy flutters at the sudden shift in his demeanor. “but you had no clue. no clue about the monster you made. everything i am right now- it’s all you. it’s all your fault.”

he’s rambling. you know that he’s not thinking straight right now, but god, you’d be damned if you said that it didn’t do something to you too. he was mating you so thoroughly and so roughly, like he was going to die if he spent even a second away from your body. he’s ravenous, slamming his hips down into you, trying to force as much of his cock into your tiny hole. you think you’re going to die right there, drowning in the inhuman amounts of pleasure threatening to shred your body to pieces, right there underneath ushjima and his huge form, succumbing entirely to whatever madness he’s transferring onto you.

“waka, you’re so deep-,” you moan lewdly. you can feel your wet slick dripping everywhere, your lower lips and your inner thighs drenched. he’s sliding in and out of you so quickly, and your pussy can’t even offer much resistance just from how wet you are. “you’re gonna break me- gonna break my pussy- you’re too big!”

“you can take it,” he mutters under his breath. his breathing is irregular, soaking in as much of your scent as he can. he feels dirty, like a true animal that can’t seem to resist the most base of his instincts, like he’s tainting you by touching you this relentlessly, but he thinks he’s going to die unless he gets to have you like this. his cock hurts too much, his balls threatening to spill into you with each sharp thrust into your warm and welcoming hole. he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to keep up this long with him, especially when he’s being so unreasonably greedy, but he needs to keep going like this. “you’re already taking it.”

he’s pounding into you like he’s determined to shatter you. it’s good, good in a way that you know you’re never going to recover from. you know you’re done for, that you’re going to get hooked on whatever pleasure is taking your body captive as is, that you’re going to end up no better than he is in the climax of his heat. you can already envision it in your head, the vision of you crawling to him in the dead of the night to beg him to fuck you, no human lover enough to satisfy you now that both of you have crossed the point of no return.

but morals are secondary. he’s smitten with you. with every part of you. even outside of your body, ushijima has pined after you for longer than he can fathom. the cowbell ringing incessantly around his neck is proof to him of that.

“gonna fuck so deep into you. gonna make you take everything i give you.” the bull grips at your body. “gonna cum right into your pussy, into your womb. that way everyone’s gonna know what we did today. that i’m not letting anyone else take you away from me. that i’m yours. you- you don’t mind any of that, do you?”

you shake your head side to side. you don’t care anymore at this point. all that matters is how good it feels to have his dick buried inside of you, stretching your gummy walls out until your vision blurs. your skin prickles with sweat and skin, drunk on the feeling of him on top of you and pinning you down into the grass. it’s equal parts intimate as it is ferocious, and you want it. you want him to cum deep inside of you, to fill your womb and pussy up, to leave you cock-drunk and helpless to soak in all of his monstrosity.

he grits his teeth. your kind voice makes his brain go fuzzy too quickly, and his balls keep tightening up against the curve of your soft ass. he’s not going to last much longer, not when you keep squeezing him. you’ve already been so much more than he could imagine, even better than whatever lewd fantasies he would play out in his head all alone, and he’s coming undone. his abs tighten with each thrust, his rigid pace starting to grow sloppy as he shoves himself into you.

he wants to cum so badly, so so badly inside of you. it’s all he wants right now, and you’d be so good for him. you’d let him empty his load, let him drench your insides white and stuff your womb, whine about how full you feel as the excess leaks out of you, coating the outside of your sweet hole the same shade of white as your insides. he’d get entranced at the sight, fully intoxicated at the thought of claiming you so wholly from the inside out.

he grunts, unable to form full words. you feel so tight and so good around him, milking his cock incessantly. it’s enough to make him think you want it just as much, that your pussy also wants to cum, that you were made to take his cock like this and carry his cum inside of you. what a good human you were, to endure all of this so gracefully, and it’s just too much for his heat-stricken mind to fully comprehend.

“cum inside me-,” your voice breaks through his muddled mind, “-i want it! cum inside me, wakatoshi! want it- i want your cum!”

you can see his jaw visibly tighten, and his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. your cunt unconsciously clamps up around him, and you let out a pathetic sob when he angles his hips and fucks hard into you. your gut won’t stop writhing painfully, your oncoming orgasm like a chokehold on your consciousness. it’s all you can think about, cumming with ushijima, and you think you might actually pass out if you don’t get it soon.

the effect you have on him is deadly. he pulses inside of you, slamming straight into what feels like your cervix. you can feel the desperation coming off of him in waves, and you wonder how he’s managed to survive this long holding everything back. maybe this act of frenzied heat was for the better, maybe this could teach both of you how to be more honest. but all of that is secondary to the physical reality, the pangs of arousal and need consuming you from the inside out, your brain a captive to the pleasure making all of your limbs go limp.

“you said- you said you want it, yeah?” his voice is uncannily soft. the afternoon sun casts a dreamy glow on him, making him almost golden as he looms over you. “take it- take it all… i won’t let anyone else have you. someone like you- you’re only for me.”

your eyes meet his for a fleeting second, and using whatever little strength left inside of you, you smile up at the bull. “i’m only for you.”

his chest heaves, and his hips stutter. you cry out when he slams harshly into you, burying his whole length into you. your insides clamp down on him, the sudden intrusion making you coil around him deliciously. the friction has your mind up in outer space, numb to the world except for the heat burning all around. ushijima lets out a deep cry, wanting to stay buried deep inside of you, and you can barely register the shift in his weight before you feel him cumming inside of you.

it’s hot and heavy, and it burns. the warmth sears you from the inside out, flooding every part of your already overwhelmed pussy. you already knew that sex with a hybrid would be far from normal, but you didn’t account for the sheer amount of cum pumping into you. his dick keeps pulsing inside of you, releasing what feels like unending spurts of virile semen straight into your womb. you feel it seeping into you, filling you up until you think you’re about to burst. it’s sticky and runny like thick milk, and you can feel it starting to ooze out of your plugged hole and down your thighs.

ushijima grits his teeth. you can feel the pressure mounting in your belly, and when he shifts, something inside of you breaks open like a dam too. you blame the cum stuffed into your cunt, but you can’t linger on the thought too long before you find yourself cumming from being creampied.

“wakatoshi-!” you throw your head back, and something wet gushes everywhere. you can’t tell if it’s his cum, your cum, or a mix of both. it’s probably the latter, but that’s not what matters to you. your vision spins on an axis, and everything seems to dissolve into pure nothingness. you feel so full, your stream of consciousness blown out and tossed to the wind, savoring the sheer ecstasy of having a big cock to stretch your insatiable cunt out and enough cum to breed you into a submissive mate. it’s perfection, and you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the literal bliss coursing through your veins.

the two of you are drunk on each others’ bodies. ushjima doesn’t show any sign of wanting to get off of you, staying where he is, keeping you folded underneath him. it hurts to keep his cock shoved into you as it starts to soften, but he’s willing to endure it. he needs to see as much of his sticky cum stuffed into your pussy, make sure it takes inside of you so that all of his physical efforts don’t go to waste. you’re starting to feel the strain in your muscles, the ache that’s settled in all of them long ago, but much like him, you don’t want to do anything about it.

your mind’s buzzing like it’s been lit on fire, like the flame refuses to die. the summer heat that encapsulates both of you is unbearable as it is almost comforting, smothering in the way that he must have wanted for longer than you could imagine. you want to melt away in it, and you let him hold you here, tangled in one another’s limbs out in the middle of what would otherwise be a pristine meadow.

“you- you did well, but-,” he manages to get out, “stay with me here for a little longer…”

“mmm. yeah-,” you reply softly. you maneuver yourself, and ushijima shifts so that you can finally put your legs back down properly. the relief that shoots through you is like a gulp of fresh air, but you’re more focused on clinging to the man laying on top of you. chest to chest, his strong heartbeat began to match up to yours. his breathing was rhythmic and welcoming, and you let your eyes flutter shut, simply basking in his presence.

you felt sticky and spent, undoubtedly tuckered out from everything he had put you through, but you would gladly do it again. would this be what they called affection? a kind of special connection? the exact label wouldn’t matter as long as the two of you were happy and satisfied with one another, and you preferred focusing on things like that anyway.

…

it’s hot.

you wake up to a cozy dim room, and the first that hits you immediately is the ache that’s spread all over your body. you wince, the blanket that you didn’t even realize was draped over you falling into your lap, as you slowly try to maneuver yourself into a semblance of a seated position. grogginess clings to your senses like thick honey, but you fight through it to make heads or tails of where you ended up.

the smell of clean hay and cinnamon is your first clue, and the next follows shortly after.

“are you awake? you were out for a while. do you need to go to the hospital?”

you peek up to see a familiar but worried face peering down at you. ushijima extends you a water bottle, and only then do you also realize that you’re absolutely parched. you give him a grateful nod as you take the drink from in, downing half of the bottle in thirsty gulps before you pull away to haphazardly wipe at your mouth.

“just a little sore and a little tired. nothing i haven’t dealt with before. it doesn’t hurt or anything, so a few days of good rest should do the trick.” some of your questions seem to answer themselves. you recognize the inside of ushijima’s abode and the little ways in which he’s made the place a home. you must have fallen asleep from exhaustion not too long after, and ushijima must have carried you back and let you rest in what looked like his bed.

“you should have something to eat before i give you some painkillers.” he extends a hand towards you. his voice is demure and gentle, like he’s scared that you’ll run off if he approaches you too quickly. “do you think you can walk? or should i carry you? it’s pretty late out, but i prepped a few quick bites for you to have whenever you woke up. it’s dark, so you can stay over for the night.”

he pauses before sheepishly looking away. even through the dimness of his room, you can make out the shy glimmer in his eyes and his nervous body language, and it’s endearing to know that even after plowing into you like his life depended on it, his feelings for you ran much deeper than a quick fix for his heat. there’s a boyish pink tint to his cheeks that’s unlike any of his usual stoic demeanor that you’re used to from him, but you don’t dislike it. if anything, it makes you like him even more, wanting to see more of this romantic side of him.

your hand slides silently into his, and the cowbell around his throat clinks melodically as he helps you up. he slides a gentle hand around your waist as he guides you towards another room of his house, where, true to his word, a board with fruits, bread, jam, and what looks like a bowl of soup awaits you. your stomach rumbles at the sight and the scent of food, and you’re itching to dig in by the time you’re situated at the table.

you’re not sure what to make of the whole thing as you eat, empty chatter filling the air in between your bites. but it’s the kind of spontaneous tension that you like, one where ushijima can’t quite look you in the eye, where his blush only deepens every time you call him in that siren-like voice of yours, where sharing a meal feels like healing for the soul as much as it is nourishment for the body. you’re still processing everything that went down this afternoon, and you’re sure you’re going to be chatting with ushijima deep into the night to decide where to take things from here. but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel a surge of excitement gnawing with bated breath inside of your stomach, like you’re a younger version of yourself giggling over a school crush and unable to go to sleep.

summer has always been a fleeting time for you. filled with life awakening and the earth extending herself into her finest majesty, you were more than aware of everyone else how temporary this summer heat was, and yet, there was something comforting in its cyclicality, in knowing that the summer would always return year after year with its stifling heat and dazzling sun.

you hope you can see many more summers with ushijima. you’ve shared many before with him, but this is the first time that the heat has brought you closer, in more ways than one. you hope that the summers will turn into autumns with him and that those autumns will turn into winters and that the winters too will turn into springs to repeat the seasons over and over again. the sweetness that lingers in the air between you and him, the human and the hybrid, farmer and bull, feels inexplicable. and you’re sure it is—you doubt that there are enough words in the universe to properly decipher the complexities he’s plunged you into, but if it’s for him, you’d happily delve into the unforgiving waves.

isn’t that the whole point of love?

as summer continues to close in, the heat wafting throughout the expanse of the night, you bring yourself closer to ushijima. he guides you carefully back into his bed, and you motion for him to join you. he hesitates for a second, but the way you grab onto his wrist makes him acquiesce. before you know it, you’re pressed happily against his broad chest. his strong arms are wrapped firmly around you, pulling you close to him and keeping you safe from whatever night terrors might rest underneath. but you have nothing to fear, not when you’re this close to him, savoring his embrace, his existence, his warmth.

it’s hot, and you like it.

author's note: happy hybrid tuesday to the house! i had a lot of fun writing this, and truth be told, this fic ended up a lot longer than i had anticipated. double than what i had planned on writing, if i'm being completely transparent. but i think the result was worth every second of it, and it reminded me of how much i love working with hybrid aus! now that this exchange is done, i'm going to start finishing up the last of the requests in my inbox and get ready for kinktober.

i'm also going to start working full-time soon, so the rate at which i'm going to be writing might slow down drastically. thank you so much for all of your patience and support with the blog so far, and thank you even more for reading this far!

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to help shahed muhammed and her family evacuate gaza. time is running out for her family, so if you ever had any thoughts about tipping or commissioning me, please extend that generosity to those in need.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi #x reader #fem reader #my writing #house of solis occasum

301 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 3 months ago

Note

Tfa Autobots fearing J reader, would be Optimus, Bee, Starscream and Jazz, also J reader is part of the elite guard

TFA Fearing the Murder Drones J! Reader

Characters: Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Starscream, and Jazz (Transformers Animated) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: These are short due to lack of many ideas, but I do hope you like it otherwise. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing bad ⚠️

Disclaimer: This contains zero spoilers for the show Murder Drones

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Optimus Prime ══════════════════════════╝

⚔️ You scared this guy a lot. No other words.

⚔️ Known for your slight arrogance and obvious workaholic nature, all that had energon flowing through their cables knew that you were not someone to mess with under any circumstances

⚔️ Optimus was surprised to see you come out of the Steelhaven with your two fellow Elite Guard members, Velocity and Nickel, and the other two guards, Sentinel Prime and Jazz, along with your leader, Ultra Magnus

⚔️ It was when Starscream lunged at Ultra Magnus that you merely blasted him away, a cocky smile appearing on your face as you criticized him

"You're pathetic. Going at someone from behind? Just shows how much weaker the Decepticon cause has gotten in the past many cycles."

⚔️ Now he understood Sari when they first showed up on Earth...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Bumblebee ═════════════════════════════╝

🐝 Bee admired, yet was scared of you, when you came in during one of his classes with your fellow teammates, Velocity and Nickel, behind you. You tried teaching them fighting skills, only to fail with Bee's idiocy

🐝 You glared at him as he tried stinging Nickel, he may be a weaker member of the Elite Guard, but he could be useful. Sometimes...

🐝 Nodding at Velocity, she smiled sadistically, jumping in with her servos transformed into multiple spinning-blades. She then attacked Bee, making him panic and run

🐝 Sentinel scoffed as you looked at him, your head tilted slightly to ask him what was wrong

"This Guard is getting weaker by the cycle... I swear..."

"Completely agree with you there, Sent'."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Starscream ════════════════════════════╝

💫 You were one of the best Autobot fighters, and when you saw Starscream aim his blasters at Ultra Magnus, you just snapped into work-mode

💫 Jumping up, you spread your wings, flapping them to push you towards the Decepticon as he looked at you in shock

💫 Your long tail emerged and wrapped around his neck, causing him to fly into the air with you while the others observed. Sentinel, Jazz, and Ultra Magnus just sighed as you inserted your tail's tip in the 'Bots neck, injecting him with acid

💫 He wailed in pain as you scoffed and kicked him away. Starscream then stood up shakily whilst yelling about how he'd find you and make you pay sometime

"Go ahead, 'Screamy. I'd love to hear that squeaky voice of yours scream in pain as I tear your wings apart."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jazz ═════════════════════════════════╝

🎷 Jazz liked being around you, but he had to admit, you could be quite scary despite your seemingly-polite front

🎷 This was proven when you grew tired of listening to Velocity and Sentinel argue. You slammed your servo against the panel, wrapping your tail around the two 'Bots before slamming them into the nearby desktop

"If you two don't shut your intakes, I'll shut them for you. Capiche?"

🎷 The two nodded erratically as you let them go, throwing a datapad at Nickel before walking out of the control room. No doubt you were going to train your heart out against a dummy

🎷 The white mech just watched with slightly widened optics and a nervous demeanor as you walked away, thankful that he wasn't the center of your anger

120 notes · View notes

hoonven · 2 months ago

Text

Beautiful Creatures | Preview

❝We’re all beautiful creatures of the night, vampires and witches.❞

PAIRING! vampire!kim seonwoo x witch!female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, vampire au, witch au, kinda strangers to lovers, second chance romance?, a sprinkle of forbidden love, reincarnation au

WORD COUNT! almost 3k

WARNINGS! mc is an orphan, physical violence, prejudiced behaviors from the town’s people, death, suicide? (this will make sense later), i think that’s it? lmk if i missed anything

SYNOPSIS! in the gloomy town of Eldritch Cove, a coven of witches resides deep in the marsh, never to make contact with outsiders, it's safer this way. But when a mysterious young man passes through town everything changes

AUTHOR’S NOTE! hi! please note that every setting and character in the story is of my own creation therefore i have copyright so please do not steal my ideas and claim them as your own! hope you enjoy the preview for my upcoming fic!

The fog clung low to the ground, swirling around your ankles as you moved carefully through the marsh, your basket half-filled with herbs. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and the distant hum of cicadas. The marsh was a place of silence and secrets, where even the wind dared not whisper too loudly.

Beside you, Winnifred, with her wild, curly red hair, bounded through the mist like a fox on the hunt, her bright green eyes gleaming with curiosity. She was the youngest in the coven, her energy and playfulness a stark contrast to your more cautious demeanor.

“Winnie, slow down. You’ll scare off the moonwort,” you called softly, your gaze scanning the ground for the pale silver leaves of the plant you and her sought.

Winnifred stopped mid-step, a mischievous smile spreading across her freckled face. “It’s not going anywhere, Y/N! The moonwort isn’t afraid of me. Look, I’ve already found some!” She darted forward, pulling up a clump of the shimmering herb with a triumphant grin, holding it up for you to see.

You sighed, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You’re lucky Mother isn’t here to see you uprooting the plants like that.”

Winnifred rolled her eyes. “Mother always says to respect the marsh, but I swear, sometimes I think it respects me more than I respect it.” She winked, dropping the moonwort into your basket.

As you reached down to gather your own handful, a sudden chill ran up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. The marsh grew eerily still, and the familiar sounds of insects and croaking frogs faded into silence. Something was different.

“Winnie,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “Do you feel that?”

Winnifred straightened, her playful expression faltering as she glanced around. “Feel what?”

You couldn’t quite explain it, but the marsh—the very air around you—felt charged, like a storm about to break. There was a presence, something close, something ancient. Your heart quickened, though you didn’t know why.

Without a word, you rose to your feet, your eyes scanning the fog. Then, through the thick mist, you saw it: a figure standing at the edge of the marsh, half-hidden by the shadows of the trees. He stood unnaturally still, too still, like a predator waiting for its prey.

Winnifred saw him too. “Who’s that?” she whispered, her tone no longer playful.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man—tall, but not too tall, and draped in black clothing that seemed to blend into the surrounding mist. His hair was dark, his face pale against the shadowy backdrop. But it was his eyes—sharp, deep, and old, far older than the body they belonged to—that caught your breath. They were fixed on you, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a strange mix of fear and…something else. A flicker of recognition, though you had never seen him before in your life.

“Come on, let’s go,” Winnifred urged, tugging at your sleeve. “He’s giving me the creeps.”

You didn’t move, your gaze locked with his. Something in those eyes tugged at the edges of your memory, a sensation you couldn’t explain. The air between you felt electric, like the space itself was charged with something ancient, something that had always been there but just now revealed itself.

The man took a step forward, and you instinctively stepped back, your breath catching.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

For a moment, the man said nothing, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile, as though your question amused him. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, his voice mellifluous, smooth, and strangely familiar, like the echo of a dream you couldn’t quite place.

You frowned, confused. There was something unsettling in his presence, but there was also an undeniable pull, like a thread that connected you to him, a thread you didn’t know existed until now.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, unsure why you were compelled to answer at all.

“Y/N…” The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, as though he had spoken it a thousand times before. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Again?” your confusion deepened. You had never seen him before in your life, and yet…there was that flicker of recognition, as though a part of you knew him, a part buried deep within you, hidden beneath layers of forgotten memories.

“Who are you?” you asked again, more insistent this time.

The man’s smile faded, replaced by something softer, almost melancholic. He stepped closer, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been searching for you.”

Winnifred stepped in front of you, her red hair flaming in the dim light. “You need to stay back,” she warned, though her voice trembled. “We’re not afraid of you.”

The man’s gaze flicked briefly to Winnifred, then back to you, almost as if he hadn’t heard the younger witch’s warning. “I mean you no harm,” he said softly. “But we need to talk… do you—”

Your mind raced. Who was this stranger, and why did he speak to you as if you had known each other for lifetimes? The strange connection, the way your heart seemed to leap into your throat at the sight of him—none of it made sense.

But before you could ask another question, Winnifred grabbed your arm, pulling you back. “Y/N, let’s go. Now.”

The fog seemed to thicken as the tension in the air grew. You hesitated for a moment longer, staring into the man’s eyes. There was a sadness there, a longing that felt as old as the marsh itself, but something in you told you to trust your sister’s instincts. This was too much, too strange.

Without another word, you allowed Winnifred to pull you away, your heart pounding as you retreated into the mist. But even as you fled, you could still feel the man’s gaze on you, lingering like a shadow.

And somewhere deep within you, a memory stirred—faint, fleeting, but unmistakable.

As you and Winifred disappeared into the safety of the trees, the man remained still, his eyes fixed on the place where you had stood. He could feel it—the stirring of your power, the faintest glimmer of recognition in your eyes.

You didn’t remember him. Not yet.

But you would.

Soon.

The mist began to lift slightly as you and Winnifred made your way back through the winding paths of the marsh. The air was still heavy with moisture, and the twilight sky was slowly darkening, casting long shadows between the trees. Winnifred walked ahead, her pace faster than usual, her usually playful nature subdued as she kept glancing back at you.

You, for your part, were quiet, still shaken by the encounter but not afraid—more curious, unsettled by the strange man and the unexplainable pull you’d felt in his presence. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him, though you didn't know what.

“Who do you think he was?” Winnifred asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was softer now, laced with worry. “He didn’t seem like just a normal person. Not from around here, that’s for sure.”

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “I don’t know, Winnie. He wasn’t like anyone I’ve met before. There was something different about him.”

Winnifred chewed her lip thoughtfully, slowing her pace so she could walk beside you. “Different how?”

You hesitated, struggling to put your feelings into words. “He felt… familiar, but not in a way I can explain. Like I should know him, but I don’t.”

“Maybe he’s from another coven and he’s just passing through town?” Winnifred suggested, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Maybe,” you murmured, but you didn’t believe that. There was something far older, far deeper in the way he had looked at you. Not just like someone passing through, but someone who had been searching for you.

Winnifred frowned, casting a sidelong glance at you. “He didn’t scare you, did he?”

You shook your head. “No, not really. But we don’t know him, and that makes him dangerous enough.” you didn’t want to admit how calm you had felt around the stranger, even as your instincts had warned you to stay away.

By the time you reached the large wooden cabin nestled deep within the marsh, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the windows, and the scent of sage and rosemary drifted from the porch, where dried herbs hung in bundles.

Winnifred opened the door first, her tension easing slightly as the familiar warmth of the home welcomed you both in. The sound of quiet conversation drifted from the kitchen, where your other sisters were likely preparing dinner, but it was Mother who stood in the hallway, her tall frame draped in a dark cloak as though she had been waiting for you.

Mother’s sharp eyes instantly fell on you two girls, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You’re late,” she said, her voice calm but always carrying an undercurrent of authority. “I trust you found what you were looking for.”

“We did,” you answered, holding up your basket of herbs.

But Winnifred, ever eager to share news, didn’t wait another moment. “Mother, we saw someone in the marsh! A man! He was just standing there, staring at Y/N! He was strange! He had these dark clothes, and these weird eyes, and—”

The moment Winnifred said it, Mother’s smile faltered, her expression tightening as she fixed her gaze on you. “A man?” she repeated, her voice strained. “Where?”

“In the deeper part of the marsh,” you said cautiously. “Near the black pool. He didn’t try to harm us, but—”

Mother stepped forward, cutting you off with a sharp look. “And what did he look like, exactly?” Her voice, though controlled, had an edge to it that sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Winnifred, oblivious to the shift in mood, eagerly described him. “Average height, dark hair, pale skin. He was wearing black, and his eyes were kind of… intense. He looked like he knew Y/N, or something.”

At this, Mother’s expression grew even more severe. She stared hard at you, as though searching your face for some hidden truth. “And you didn’t recognize him?”

You shook your head, your stomach tightening. “No. But there was something strange about him. It didn’t feel like the first time I’d seen him, but I don’t know why.”

Mother’s lips thinned, and for a moment, you thought you saw fear flicker in her eyes—a rare and unsettling sight. But just as quickly as it appeared, Mother’s face smoothed into an unreadable mask. She turned away, busying herself with adjusting the herbs hanging by the doorway.

“I don’t like strangers wandering around the marsh,” Mother said, her voice clipped. “Especially not near the black pool. It’s a dangerous place.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Mother, is something wrong? You’ve always said the marsh belongs to us. Why would anyone else be here?”

Mother turned to face you again, her expression unreadable. “The marsh is our home, yes, but it draws many things—creatures, spirits, people—things we can’t always control. You should be more careful. This man could be dangerous. We don’t know who he is, or what he wants.”

“But he didn’t feel dangerous,” you pressed, your instincts telling you there was more to this than Mother was letting on. “You seem upset.”

“I don’t like strangers here,” Mother repeated firmly, her voice closing off the conversation. She stepped forward, placing her hands on your shoulders, her touch firm but comforting. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him if you see him again. I don’t care who he is, or what he says. He doesn’t belong here.”

You searched your mother’s face, but all you saw was a hard resolve and a trace of something else—fear, or maybe something deeper. You nodded slowly, though you didn’t believe for a second that Mother was telling you the full truth. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” Mother said, releasing you and turning away. “Now, both of you get cleaned up for dinner.”

As Mother disappeared down the hallway, Winnifred leaned closer to you, her voice low. “That was weird, right? She seemed really upset.”

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your mind racing. “She’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but she knows more about that man than she’s letting on.”

Winnifred’s wide eyes were full of curiosity. “Do you think she’s met him before?”

You shook your head, but doubt gnawed at you. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

As you made your way to the kitchen to join your sisters, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the encounter in the marsh was only the beginning of something much bigger. And whoever that man was, he had stirred something within you—something that even Mother couldn’t protect you from.

You had to know the truth.

NETWORK! @kstrucknet

THE TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC IS OFFICIALLY OPEN! PLEASE COMMENT TO BE ADDED!

#⸺ THIS IS HOONVEN’S ANNOUNCEMENTS ☘︎.ᐟ #i’m actually so late to posting this lmao it was supposed to be posted in september #but i just decided i’ll make it a halloween special so hopefully it’s out by then #kstrucknet #kim sunoo #sunoo scenarios #sunoo drabbles #sunoo angst #sunoo soft hours #sunoo imagines #sunoo x reader #sunoo fluff #enhypen sunoo #sunoo #enha sunoo #kim sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x you #kim sunoo fluff #kim sunoo imagines

54 notes · View notes

lilacskyly · 11 months ago

Text

Honored Ones: Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

(This might be bad idk :,> not that proud of it)

Throughout Heaven and the Earth, he is the honored one.

Then what does that make you?

“Oh goddess~ You aren’t hiding from me, are you?” you heard Satoru Gojo coo as his steps echoed throughout the abandoned building. You covered your mouth, trying your best to cover your shaky breath. “You can’t hide from me forever~ You know we’re bound… right goddess?” You heard him laugh and then a chain rattled. You froze, staring at your wrist to see the spirit bind chain that was shackled to your wrist. “Stop fighting me. You already know I can sense you… right?” he questioned. Tears fell out of your eyes just as Gojo teleported in front of you. “Found you~”

You jumped before he covered your mouth. He put a finger to his lips, “Sssshhh my dear…. Ssshh… I’m here… those special grade curses are gone… there’s no need to cry!” He smiled for you before planting a small kiss on your forehead. If you didn’t know better, he would’ve just been his normal self. But, after you saw him kill those curses and some of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers for ‘getting in the way’, you knew you couldn’t trust his smile.

“S-satoru…”

His smile only grew upon hearing his name come from your lips. God.. those perfect lips of yours. He was practically salivating.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts. “Yes my goddess?”

“W-where are the others?” you asked.

“The others? Oh… you mean the pests. They're gone now. They can't bother us now~” he whispered in your ear. “You cryin’? It's okay my goddess… you're safe now.”

He took your hand in his and lifted you off the ground. Despite your fear of him, you hugged him and started crying even more. He engulfed you in a hug as well. “Never do that again.” he said, getting scarily serious for once.

“I-I won’t! I swear I won’t!” you cried. He knew better than to take your word for that.

He sighed, “Let’s go home goddess. You’ve had a long day..”

You couldn’t track how long it took you to get to his place. Time always seemed to mush together when you were with him. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Gojo locked the door behind you two when you entered his place. He collapsed on the sofa, pulling on the spirit bind chain to get you to come over.

“Y’know goddess, I never imagined being this close to you…” he started. “After all, you’re barely a jujutsu sorcerer my dear… it’s a miracle we even met.”

“... y-yeah… I-I’m sorry, I’m really weak..” you said, looking down at his hands.

He shook his head. “Stop lying to yourself. You may not be as strong as you want… but soon enough you will be.”

“H-how?”

“I’ve been hinting at a surprise haven’t I? I think it’s about time I finally reveal it.” he smiled softly at you.

You tilted your head, confusion spread across your face. “W-what do you mean?”

“You’re almost entirely mine, my precious goddess~ Did you figure out what I’ve been doing yet?” he asked innocently.

Wait. He didn’t.. He fucking wouldn’t.

He smiled after seeing your expression. “You’ve figured it haven’t you? You’re so smart my goddess! I’ve been putting drops of my blood into your food I’ve prepared for you… and you know how your cursed technique works.. Right?”

Of course you did! You weren’t stupid.. Were you?

“Your cursed technique isn’t very practical… at least for you. You have to quite literally consume a part of a person to gain their strength. But but but! If you ingest too much, your life becomes officially theirs to control. It’s funny really.. You get stronger but you become less and less you the more you do so!”

“G-gojo… w-what..?”

“Look my goddess… I know someone as holy as you could never be mine… so, I’m taking fate into my own hands. We will be together now, forever. No matter what you do, you won’t be able to die as long as I’m alive. You can’t even escape me in death. We’re bound, remember goddess? You’ve sealed your fate the very moment you agreed to this.” He grabbed your wrist, showing the spirit bind you two established. You both had to ingest some of each other's blood to even establish it. You just wanted to be stronger… to be protected by someone…

You should’ve died to those curses in that building earlier.

Before you knew it, Gojo tore at his wrist till it bled heavily. He held it up for you to drink his blood. He chuckled as you looked at him in horror. “H-how… how long have you..”

“Oh, since we made the pact. I’ve had my sight on you for quite a while my dear.” he said nonchalantly. “Now, drink up. Haven’t got all night.”

You shook your head causing him to laugh loudly. “Seriously? You’re still being stubborn? You really don’t get it dear… you’re mine.” His blue eyes pierced your own, seeming to tear into your brain. “Now, drink.”

Your body moved without you as you downed his blood. The taste was repulsive, you hated doing this. Gojo however seemed to be enjoying it as he petted your hair muttering ‘good girl’ every now and again. He pushed you away after some time. “Now now dear, we don’t want to suck me completely dry, do we?” he teased.

“Mhm…” was all you managed to say.

“Y’know… the pact is fully made now, right? Ha! How funny! I can literally control you now!” he laughed lightly. “We can claim this world as ours… and ours alone. After all, we’re gods… together we are the honored one…”

He pulled on the now fully materialized chain around both your wrists and hummed cheerfully.

“Let’s go have some fun, shall we?”

#jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere trope #fanfiction #really not proud of this one #might rewrite it eventually

139 notes · View notes

lonelystczennie · 1 year ago

Text

"How could my day be bad when I'm with you?"

Jisung x Reader

Summary: Jisung always feels better when you're around. Inspired by the song Bad by Wave to Earth

Word count: 500+

Warnings: one swear, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I got a little stuck, but I think it's still cute, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Today had not been Jisung's day.

He'd missed his alarm and woken up late, forgot his phone charger, fought with the members during rehearsals, and had managed to drop an entire coffee right on his brand new white shoes.

Normally at this point, he would be counting the minutes till he could go home, crawl under the covers, and just try to forget about everything for a while. Instead, he was sitting anxiously in the park by himself, bouncing his leg nervously as he waited,

hoping he wasn't too late or that you'd decided not to come, even though you always came on Thursdays.

"Hey you."

His head whipped around at the sound of your voice, a relieved smile spreading across his face for the first time today at the sight of you coming down the path towards him.

"Hey!" He said, jumping quickly to his feet to greet you.

"Were you waiting for me?"

“I-uh, maybe.” He admitted, rubbing his neck self-consciously.

You grinned at him, biting back a teasing remark in favor of an invitation. “You wanna grab some coffee or something?”

“Yes, please.” He responded.

The two of you had met purely by chance a few weeks ago, and what had started as polite conversations in passing had progressed to both of you intentionally planning your walks for the same days and times so that you could meet up.

You never did much, mostly just talked about whatever was on your minds that day, but your random little afternoons together had come to be the highlight of Jisung's whole week.

Normally, he was quite introverted, preferring to just keep to himself, but with you, he found himself opening up an almost alarming rate, talking easily for ages, without worrying about whether any of it made sense or if he fumbled over his words. You had a way of putting him at ease that no one else quite managed, able to make him laugh even in his worst moods.

Even now, as you walked togther, he found himelf feeling lighter just from being near you. He couldn't help studying the details of your face, the way the sunlight brought out the color of your eyes, looking away quickly whenever you turned them towards him.

You had your drinks and then slowly began to make your way back, reluctant to part yet.

“Can I ask something that’s been bugging me?” You asked as you neared the park entrance.

“Sure.”

“What happened to your shoes?”

“Ah,” He let out a flustered laugh, glancing down at the stained sneakers he’d forgot he was still wearing. “I spilled coffee on them this morning.” He explained, going into a full accout of the day.

“Damn, I’m sorry you had such a bad day.” You said.

“It wasn’t bad.” He replied, making you look up at him confusion.

“How was that not a bad day?”

“I got to see you.” He said, immediately ducking his head as his face flushed in embarrassment. “Agh, that was cheesy, I'm sorry.”

“No, it was cute.” You said, taking his hand, making his face heat up again.

“Can I also ask something that’s been bugging me?” He looked at you nervously.

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“Could I please have your number? I can’t take maybe getting to see you anymore.” He confessed.

You giggled. “Yeah, me neither.”

As you finished typing you number into his phone, you didn’t miss the way his hand twitched, as if wanting to take hold of yours again, but hesitating.

Without saying anything, you offered your hand out to him, letting him make the decision on whether or not to take it, which he did immediately, weaving your fingers together tightly.

Maybe he was right, maybe it wasn't a bad day at all.

#nct jisung fluff #park jisung fluff #park jisung fic #park jisung drabble #nct jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #jisung x reader #nct x y/n #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct fluff #nct reactions #park jisung x reader #lonelystczennie

233 notes · View notes

featherwingfae · 9 months ago

Text

Gonna try to make this a "Quick post".

(warning some light swearing)

Maybe, just maybe one of the reasons we're seeing so many new Therians nowadays is because humans have fucked up the earth so bad that the universe just went fuck it and threw in a bunch of nature brains to balance things out. People who wouldn't just be able to look at the devastation of wildlife and their homes and just move on like nothing happened. Because they can see themselves in those creatures, and it hurts them to know that they are suffering. And maybe if there's enough nature brains, seeing themselves in the withering world around them, then more and more people might stand up and say this isn't right. We need to fix this. And maybe in a human world where one of the most lovely traits of humanity is being able to work together a bunch of nature brains with human faces can make a difference. They say animals can't speak human. Well they can, and are. Maybe Therians are the voices of nature coming out from the wilds, to places and bodies where they're not comfortable, where the air is heavy with pollution and trash litters the ground. And they have to learn weird shit like math, and work exhausting jobs that are often just to pay the bills that allow them to keep surviving. All so that they can see the damage from the other side and better understand the problem and together find solutions to stop it.

I'm not saying humans (and others) can't and/or dont do anything. I'm saying it's harder to do nothing when you look at creatures suffering and see yourself. Empathy is a beautiful thing. It helps connect us. But in a world where almost no one can afford the barest minimum just to survive. Where finding happiness feels like a struggle because you're constantly grinding and pushing yourself beyond your mental, emotional and/or physical boundaries, how easy is it to just shut yourself off. To put on the blinders because you're stuck yourself and you don't feel like there's anything you can do, so why upset yourself further by caring. It's sad. Terribly sad. Soul crushingly, heart wrenchingly sad.

Most people nowadays suffer from anxiety, depression or some other mental illness. And yes those illnesses are more known and understood now, and are more easily diagnosed. But I think the reason we see them everywhere now, is as simple as everyone is suffering. The human world in its current state, is not a healthy place. Fun times are often merely distraction from the crushing reality around us. It hurts to accept how much hurt there is right now.

I'm not saying it's all on the shoulders of Therians. I'm not saying you have to quit your job or your school and run off into the wild picking up every piece of litter and chaining yourself to trees. That's not what this post is about.

This post is about the increase of Therians and my personal hypothesis as to why there's so many now. And it's as simple as this. One Therian does not shoulder all the burden of the earth. Just as one human does not. But if there are Therians in schools, going "hey look at this little/big guy isn't he cute/cool" showing their friends and classmates"it's so sad he's going extinct because his home is being destroyed" , Therians on trails, streets, beaches seeing litter and using just a little bit of their time to remove at least some of it. Therians in stores refusing to buy certain products because of animal cruelty/testing, Therians manifesting/praying to help even if it's just a little bit, Therians on the Internet/TV spreading awareness, Therians in government actually trying to do what's best for the environment and the people, instead of just what's best for their bank account etc etc.

In reference to that horrible math stuff, a million ones together doesn't equal nothing. No matter how small an act it still adds up to something. Therians everywhere means more people who can't forget, who can't move on, who can't just shutdown and hope for the best. People who feel like they have to do something. So they don't eventually see themselves disappear (go extinct).

The universe and the earth can sometimes have a funny way of balancing things out. Maybe Therians are one way to at least try regaining that balance.

I'm overjoyed to see more Therians. Because I feel like more Therians means more voices for nature, and more chances to save this beautiful planet ☺️✨🌍🌎🌏💚

Anyway that's my two cents. Sorry this post ended up being longer than I intended 😅

And now my fascinating and fantastic creatures, great and small, furry, feathered, scaled or whatever-ed, and all others of open mind who took time to read my ramblings, I wish upon you a most glorious day/night. May we all follow our hearts/souls to do what we feel we can for this magnificent planet. ✨

👁️🪽✨🌟🌱❄️🪻🍀🌎🍄🌹💚🌍🌵🌈⛈️🌠🦊🐁💙

Till next time

#nonhuman #nature #otherkin #therian #therianthropy #stop therian hate #alterhuman #alterhuman community #kintypes #Therians For Nature #otherkin thoughts #alterhuman things #faerie kin #fae kin #Fae kin thoughts #Therian love

83 notes · View notes

billsbabydoll · 4 months ago

Text

“𝒾 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ.”

contains:PURE FLUFF<3

summary:me and tom have been having a 2 year long friends with benefits relationship since he moved to LA, and id be lying if this hasnt caused me to build real romantic feelings.today i decided to finally speak up, soon out finding i wasnt the only one feeling them too!

WARNINGS:cringe fluff lol, friends with benefits, situationship, crush confession, kissing, new found relationship.

me and tom knew each other from various mutual friends who then later introduced us to each other once at a party, that night tom and me slept together and have been ever since for the last two years.

other then that me and tom had quickly grown closer and closer as time went on, we were best friends (who hooked up occasionally), we talked about everything, he even once told me if he didnt marry anyone hed just end up marrying me, which i mean i wouldnt be complaining.

all the small flirting, the pet-names, the “casual fucking” seemed completely meaningless to him, i wonder if he was just trying to play it cool like he always did.but to me it was far from meaningless and in reality it was really driving me crazy.he understood me as well i understood him, he made me feel things no other man had ever made me feel, i know its cheesy but he gave me butterflies.

everytime he would introduce me to his new girlfriend of the month i wished i was that girl, the jealousy and envy coursed through my veins every single time.

that girl he was hugging, kissing, touching, calling “baby” should really be me.

today tom called asking if i wanted to go get some lunch and then watch the sunset at the beach, this was a common occurrence of ours so of course i quickly accepted.

tom soon came to pick me up, honking the horn of his car as a sign to “hurry the fuck up”.i quickly rushed out of the door, rushing into his vehicle closing the car-door as i sat down.

“hii dollll.” he said in a sing-song voice with that same little smirk he always had, looking me up and down before beginning to pull out of my driveway onto the road.

“heyy tomm, where are we stopping for lunch?” i replied nervously trying to not be bothered by the use of his pet-name and the way he looked me up down.

“oh you know already where babe, your favorite obviously.” he replied nonchalantly as he continued driving his eyes focused on the road, unaware of the pink blush spreading across my cheeks.

i nodded thinking to myself, “should i just tell him today, what if he doesnt feel what im feeling too, what if he gets upset?”a billion what ifs filled my head.

after a few minutes of driving we finally arrived at my favorite restaurant here in town, he parked the car before getting out of the car first, coming to my side to open the door for me.

i stepped out of the car with an appreciative smile as he shut the car door and took my hand in his, leading me inside the restaurant.he had already called and made a reservation so we were quickly seated, we were ushered to our booth by our waiter before sitting down tom on one side of the booth me on the other, the waiter then asked for our drink orders before slipping away.

the waiter later came back with our drinks placing them down, giving us a minute to settle in and to take a look at the menu, before coming back and taking our orders and quickly scurrying away.

“so hows work been tom, you and bill still working on some new lyrics?”

“yeahhh, ive been going to bills place everyday trying to work on theses lyrics but me and him keep clashing so who knows if well even finish a single fucking song.”he chuckled, looking down at his drink as he swirled the straw in the glass.

“how about you babe, you still at your miserable 9-5 job?”

i sighed dramatically at the mention of my job it was hell and tom knew how much i hated it, it was quite literally hell on earth.

“yup unfortunately i swear that place is gonna be the death of me!” i joked with a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

we continued catching up for a bit, until the waiter soon arrived back with our meals, placing them down on the table.we thanked the waiter before digging into our plates continuously conversating throughout the meal, laughing and joking like we always did.

after we finished eating tom insisted on paying like he always did, afterwards we made our way out of the restaurant back into his car.now driving towards venice beach, making a quick stop at the gas station to pick up a pack of beer and some cigarettes.

now we were sitting on the sand, taking in the view of the pinkish-orange sky, the birds flying above, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.i could just stay here forever with him, but every fantasy has its reality and it was now or never if i wanted this future with him i had to say something.

“tom i need to tell you something..”i spoke up anxiously taking a huge swig of beer from my bottle trying to pump myself for what was to come, looking up slowly meeting his eyes.

“okay whats up?”he answered curiously.

“i love you,i- i mean uhh..tom you mean everything to me and i know were just friends and when we hook up its just sex but i really like you and ive really tried to stop and i cant!-”

suddenly my nervous rambling was stopped by his lips pressing against mine.the lips that i only kissed for sex were now kissing mine sweetly, slowly, and delicately.

he was first to pull away, looking into my eyes with awe and love, pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear before cupping the side of my cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb gently against my skin.

“i love you more.” he whispered his voice content and sincere, a small grin growing on his lips.

“you dont know how fucking long i was waiting for you to say something baby.”he added.

i laughed not only feeling relieved that my feelings were reciprocated but happy he wasn’t upset nor angry!it felt as if a 100 pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

“why didnt you say anything tom?!”

“i was scared of ruining the friendship!”

“YOU WERE SCARED?!”

“YES!”

we both continued laughing at each other and at the fact of us both being too afraid of each others rejection to confess to one another, sharing a couple more giggles and few kisses before tom then began to speak up again.

“so does this mean your my girlfriend now babe?”he asked with a tone of seriousness and anticipation.

“yeah if you stop bringing those “girlfriends of the month” around.”i replied a soft giggle escaping my lips, playfully placing a kiss on his cheek.

“you got it gorgeous.”

THE END

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #georg listing #gustav schäfer

43 notes · View notes

socially-awkward-skeleton · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 9

Summary: The trio have arrived in Russia, it's the last bit of quiet they'll get before they strike out to find Hadir and the gas. AKA a little aside chapter that's mostly there for me to play with the characters like they are barbies. Warnings/Tags: drinking, smoking, swearing, gambling, sexual tension.

A/N: Author is terrible at playing poker and had to borrow from famous movie poker scenes to understand the rules in play, also used google translate for the Russian that appears in this chapter

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 4.2 K

[AO3]

October 30, 2019 16:35 - Undisclosed airstrip, Russia

One five and a half hour flight later, arriving to a relatively “balmy” six degree celsius afternoon, gray clouds streaked across the sky in long, loose fluffy tendrils. Not entirely abandoned, the old Soviet era hangars worn with weather and age circled the dying, brown grass and cracked cement where the small private plane had landed. As the door swung open, a staircase was brought over for the passengers to exit. The trio of Brits, no longer dressed in tac gear and camouflage, but rather civilian wear in drab grays, black, and navy – anything not to stand out in a crowd, blending in with the masses – descended, their feet hitting ‘The Motherland's’ earth.

Rory's long coat flapped in the breeze behind her as she adjusted her turtleneck. The appearance of a jetsetter was one that seemed to work for her, a small hint at her life beyond that of the military, one that consisted of wealth and refinement, glamor and grace wielded the same way she carried a rifle.

“Have to say, I was not expecting Kate to charter us a flight,” she said over her shoulder. “CIA travel expenditure budget must have gotten quite the boost this last quarter.”

Price chuckled low. “Might've been all she could get on short notice. Either way, I'm not complainin’,” he rumbled, wetting his lips before slipping the cigar between them. “Nice to ride in something more akin to a limo rather than the bloody boot of a Volkswagen.”

Flicking the lighter on, the flame a dancing blue ghost against the cherry as it began to burn, Price’s gaze traveled over the flat expanse of the tarmac, noting the movement inside the traffic control tower overhead – always alert, always at the ready.

“A touch of the good life before we're about to be knee deep in shit again. I'll take it.” Her hands slipped into the deep pockets of her coat, boots clunking against the asphalt as she strode forward with purpose.

As they made their way from the plane, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time she had arrived undercover in Russia. That mission with Price – the first they had worked together – had taken place two years ago now. Rubbing absentmindedly at the scar hidden in her hairline as she combed her fingers through fluttering strands caught in the breeze. A passing reminder of how close she came to never coming back home, a fateful moment that brought her and Price to where they were together.

Glancing over at Garrick, she called over her shoulder to him. “I trust you enjoyed the flight, Sergeant?” She asked, brow lifting, her curiosity genuine. “First time in Russia?”

He nodded, fixing the baseball cap on his head, adjusting the brim of it. “Never been in a private plane before. Hell, never even flown first class,” he said with a little shrug. “Well, I would say ‘welcome to the Special Forces’, but quite frankly, we don’t usually get that sort of treatment either,” Rory joked, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she laughed. A large cloud of smoke coiled past Price’s lips as he exhaled, leading the other two members of his team towards a waiting vehicle, the exhaust pumping out of the tailpipe with the same fervor as the chimney-like stream from the captain. “Heads up, our ride’s waiting.” He nodded towards the driver with a lift of his chin.

Drawing closer, the smirk on Price’s face grew more evident at the sight of one of his ‘old comrades’. A tall Russian with slicked-back, dark hair – Nikolai – had a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, resting nonchalantly against the hood of his SUV.

“Nik,” Price called out, “Always a pleasure.”

With a quick shake of hands, the dark eyes of Nikolai darted to meet Rory. “Sinclair,” he boomed, becoming slightly more animated upon seeing her, “Good to see you again.”

“You as well, Nik,” she said, holding out a hand to shake before being pulled into a much friendlier greeting. With his hands resting on her shoulders, the smoke of the cigarette held between his fingers coiling around her head, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to each cheek, making her laugh. “Bloody hell. You weren’t lying, were you?” she teased, her giggle bright and warm on the cool autumn wind.

“Never,” Nik said with a smirk. Looking past her, he noticed the other member of the crew. “Picking up more strays, Captain?”

Price puffed on his cigar. “You know me, got an eye for picking out the talented ones worth keepin’ about,” he said before nodding his head in Garrick’s direction. “Sgt. Garrick, meet Nikolai. An old acquaintance of mine.”

More like an accomplice.

“Sgt. Garrick.” Nikolai stuck out his hand towards the younger man. “Welcome to Russia.”

The sergeant was quick to stick out his hand, taking part in the formalities. “Good to meet you.”

“Well with the introductions over, let’s say we get the hell out of dodge, eh?” Price pushed, ready to focus on the next part of the operation.

The safehouse was a different experience this time around. No longer in the heart of Moscow, instead in the urban sprawl of St. Petersburg. One that included a few more of the comforts of home while still maintaining that derelict-chic look Rory had come to acquaint with places of this nature. Flying under the radar in a place that would barely be considered a two star accommodation – but it was more than a couple of beds and a bathroom, so an upgrade nonetheless. She was delighted to also find that the awkward tension from the last stay no longer plagued the group, despite having little to do and too many bodies in a confined space, their heads were all firmly focused on the job. Consummate professionals.

Under the yellowed light of an incandescent bulb hanging above them, they sat in mismatched chairs around the circular scope of a laminate kitchen table made to look like wood. Any talk of plans had been held off, Nikolai refusing to talk shop and preferring to act as host on the eve of the operation. A pack of cards and containers of pirozhki and chebureki from a nearby street food vendor were pulled out to keep the group entertained and well fed.

A half-burned cigarette hung from the corner of Rory's mouth as she looked over the five cards in her hand, changing the order of them, as if that would improve the luck of her current draw. Tapping the end of her fag into the empty styrofoam box on the table beside her to rid it of the ash, she slipped it back between her lips.

“Call and raise,” she said, placing five cigarettes down onto the table before her and sliding them into the pot at the center, joining the collection that had already begun to amass there.

She had to admit, playing poker with a Russian with criminal, intelligence, and military ties was an interesting experience. If anyone had a poker face that could hold up against her scrutiny it was likely him. There would actually be a challenge when it came to the bluff, especially since Price had decided to sit this round out, relaxing back in his seat with a cigar clenched between his teeth.

The smoke coalesced in a foggy haze around them, obscuring faces and the small tics that could give a person away. The perfect habitat for card sharks.

Her warm eyes glanced over to Garrick who placed his cards down on the table. “Fold. Anyone want another beer?” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchenette.

“Not for me, thanks.” Rory combed her fingers through her hair, folding her arms on the tabletop, sitting forward in her seat as the cigarette maintained its precarious position dangling from her full bottom lip.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Price leaned back into his seat and watched the game unfold, his mouth curled into a half grin. There was a sparkle in his eyes that usually didn’t appear while in the field, deciding to allow himself to loosen up just a tad for the night. Nikolai smirked at her from the other side of the table, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke through his nostrils. “Captain’s rubbing off on you, Принцесса.”

“Is that so?”

Sitting there, still as a statue, except for the lift of her brow. Waiting, watching, for his next move. This was no high stakes game of poker, only harmless fun amongst allies and yet she made sure to give nothing away. An unreadable mask to match the one of the man sitting beside her.

“Certainly. Make for a good student.” His gaze dropped to the cards in his hand, while his other started tapping one of the cigarettes in the pile beside him. “A student?” A smile finally broke through the barrier she had erected to maintain her poker face. “Is that all I am still?”

Her ears began to burn, the instinct that told her she was being observed kicking in. Glancing over to the side, she noticed Price ogling her, the impish grin remaining on his face as he twisted the cigar between his fingers. She rolled her eyes, watching him stiffen and his stare fall away from her as Garrick returned to his seat with a fresh drink. Kyle, sipping his beer, glanced over at the Russian and then his pile of cigarettes, a mix of brands. “You gonna smoke all those or place a bet?”

Pouring himself another glass of vodka, Price’s lip curled into a barely perceptible half grin, filling Rory’s empty one while he was at it and sliding it back towards her with a nod as their gazes briefly met and their fingers brushed against each other.

“He has a point, Nik. This isn’t Casino Royale, darling.” Her smile grew wider, her laugh bubbling out of her and carving dimples into her cheeks as she nodded her head to his pile. “We’re playing with fags like we’re in bloody prison.”

Nik lifted his brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he threw down five cigarettes into the pile. “Call,” he said before tossing another ten in, “And raise.”

“Oh, we’ve got a real round goin’ now, haven’t we?” Garrick said, sitting forward, placing his beer bottle down on the table.

She put out the burned down butt of her cigarette in the container, singeing a small hole into the bottom of it with a squeak of melting plastic. Her hazel eyes, ones that she had trained to be ever-perceptive both as a sniper and an interrogator burned, scouring the man before her, reading him like he was another target. “Now, Nik, you wouldn’t be bluffing, would you?”

“What makes you say that, Sinclair?”

“Spent an awful long time debating putting down that bet to begin with. And then to double my amount?” She asked skeptically, her brow arching. “It’s a tad fishy.”

His mouth drew into a straight line, placing his cards down on the table in front of him, and resting his hands folded on top. “Could be. Suppose you’ll find out soon enough, Принцесса.”

“Princess? Ты же знаешь, что я подтягиваю свой русский, да?” She replied with a smirk. (Russian: You do know I’ve been brushing up on my Russian, yes?)

He hummed. “See? Captain’s taught you well. Good student.”

Rory’s cheeks warmed and the mask dropped as a rosy blush bloomed on her apples causing her to lower her head and glance over the top of her cards, shooting daggers towards the Russian sitting across from her.

“I’m going to get you back for that, mark my words,” she muttered under her breath.

The low chuckles of Nik and Price met in sync with one another and drifted over to her, making her all the more aware of the flush on her face. Rolling her eyes, she kicked out at Price’s foot under the table, offering him a scathing look as well.

“Cards?” Garrick asked, grabbing the deck, breaking the stream of the obvious inside joke he was being kept apart from.

“Two.”

“One,” Nik taunted, his brown eyes glancing up at her.

“Someone’s confident.” Kyle passed the two players their cards so the round could continue.

“Call and raise.” Sliding twenty-five cigarettes towards the pile, Rory sat back in her seat and crossed her legs, returning to her perfectly still position.

Nikolai slid an entire pack of cigarettes into the pot.

Rory’s brow lifted. “I’ll call.”

“Four nines,” he said, laying them out flat on the table for all to see.

Her eyes dropped, raking over the cards set down on the table, clenching her jaw and running her tongue along her teeth, then sucking them. “Good hand,” she said with a little bob of her head before her eyes narrowed into the sharp stare of the combat ready veteran she was. “Not good enough, however.”

Placing down her hand of a straight flush: the 7, 8, 9, 10, and Jack of hearts.

With a smile, Rory stood up, coiling her arms around the hoard of cigarettes in the pot and dragged them towards herself. “Spasiba,” she said before leaning back and checking the clock on the wall in the kitchen, feeling the heady buzz of the vodka taking effect on her. “Right, it’s nearly one in the morning. Perhaps we should all think about turning in for the night? Let’s hope the springs in the couch aren’t too worn down for me, eh?”

When it came to sleep, Rory was at best a light sleeper. That only became more apparent when on a mission, practically sleeping with one eye open. Her subconscious mind was stuck half clinging to the lucidity of consciousness. Roused by the sound of quiet footsteps moving around her, disturbing her dreams, she was pulled into a state of wakefulness. Rubbing at her eyes, she pushed her hand back through her mussed up hair with a yawn, and sat up with a jerk from her spot on the sunken couch.

Across from her, sat on the old, worn recliner, a form resided in the shadows. Not moving, not breathing. Still. A stalker in the night.

Her hand slipped under her pillow, reaching for the gun stashed there on first impulse. Narrowing her eyes, not entirely sure what she was seeing was real, or the half-awake remnant of a dream. “John?” Rory’s voice was a rough whisper, still thick with sleep.

The curtains by the window fluttered softly in the night breeze, carrying the smell of cigar smoke and the musk of spicy cologne over to her, suffusing the room – scents she knew all too well – causing her finger to ease off the trigger.

“Yeah, love,” he husked in the dark, “Couldn't sleep.”

She chuckled quietly, shaking her head in mild disbelief. “So you decided to come out here and watch me do so instead?”

The dark mass across from her shifted slightly, broad shoulders twisting against the back of the chair as he stretched out his lower back. “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“You've watched me sleep?” Her brows furrowed, confusion settling in the lines there.

Sitting forward, he was washed in the dim light from outside cutting through the room. His steely eyes never steering away, locked onto her with the stare of a trained killer. “Is that so hard to believe?”

She shrugged, angling her head. “Just not what I expected to hear, is all. You're not exactly a romantic, my darling.” A little smirk curled at the corners of her mouth. “It is a good way of getting yourself shot though.”

“I might not read you bloody poetry, but I remember the important stuff.” He sat back, arms crossed over his chest. “Actions speak louder than words, after all. Isn't that right, my girl?” His gaze roamed over her tangled hair and rumpled clothes before a half smile curled at the corner of his mouth, turning downright Cheshire. “Do you have any idea how much effort it takes when you're with me to not find some secluded hallway to pull you down?”

Rory laughed. “Christ, you must be desperate if that's your first thought when I'm in this state.” Her cheeks turned rosy, an alluringly bashful grin on her face. “But you're far too professional for that, yeah? It has to wait until the mission's over.”

“Especially when there's someone else in the other room.” Price nodded his head toward the bedroom door where Garrick was fast asleep. “Could walk in on us at any moment. Can't have that, can we?”

“Never,” she whispered.

Price lifted out of his seat, circling the coffee table to sit down on it, the furniture creaking slightly under the weight. Leaning forward, he cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over the soft flesh below it.

In the dark of the room she could just make out the flicker of his gimlet eyes, shifting from the depths of her hazel gaze to the pout of her lips.

“Careful, John,” she cautioned.

He drew back, looking her right in the eyes. “Always.” His hoarse whisper was a quiet murmur in the room.

Watching one another in the dark, the tension of having to pretend to be nothing more than soldiers carrying out their duty together held them like a tether, a magnetic pull neither could retreat from. The ache to touch too hard to ignore at times, hiding away in the shadows to feel anything. Unseen. Their love had to be left unspoken.

The way he looked at her was near reverent, as if he were committing every detail of her to memory. “Christ, you are so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” he rumbled.

“Certainly hope I’m more than just my looks.” A warning disguised as a jest. “‘Course. You’re the whole goddamn package, Ror,” he said, his tone sharp, if anyone ever tried to suggest the opposite it would result in him breaking their legs.

The distance between them closed once more, an attraction too impossible to ignore. Warm breath mingled and fanned over one another, their lips nearly touching, his whiskers prickled against her, tickling her skin and making her smile.

“Care to join me for a break?”

“Indulging me in my vices?” she asked with a lift of her brows.

“Won't deny, there is something incredibly sexy about watching you smoke, love.”

Rory hummed. “I think that's the oral fixation talking, you dirty bugger.”

Price chuckled darkly. “Could be. That mouth of yours is somethin’ special though, darlin’.”

“Well, perhaps I need to give you something to tide you over until we're in the clear, yeah?”

Tilting her head to just the right angle, she curled a finger under his chin and brushed her lips against his, grazing against them before wrapping her lips around his lower one, sucking softly.

Parting from her, he growled quietly. “Fucking hell, woman. You're gonna be the death of me.”

“Not before the lung cancer or a bullet,” she said with a smirk, patting his shoulder as she grabbed her cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table beside him and rising to stand, making her way over to the open window.

Slipping one of the cigarettes from her pack, she placed it to her lips and before she could reach her lighter, the flame was swiftly lifted to the end for her, the golden light producing shadows and highlights on her and Price's features.

“Cheers,” she murmured around the cigarette, muffling her thanks.

Responding in a low grunt before he flicked the lid of the zippo closed with the quiet chiming clink of metal.

She took a long drag, glancing sideways at him before exhaling the smoke in a stream out the window, blowing little smoke rings – one of the few party tricks she had up her sleeve – and passed the cigarette to him.

"Bloody hell," he drawled, a hand reaching out to brush a stray chestnut strand from her forehead. "I'll say this for you, darlin’. When you're not busy bein’ a lethal soldier, you've got a talent for showing off." Price placed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sighed quietly. “Still prefer my cigars though.”

“Yes, I'm well aware. But I think you've had quite enough of those for one day, yeah?”

He growled quietly and passed the cigarette back to her before releasing the coil of smoke from past his lips. “So, whatcha gonna get me with all those winnings of yours, darlin’?”

Rory giggled and nuzzled up against him teasingly. “For you, love,” she said, caressing the underside of his jaw, the stubble there grazing against her fingertips. “The world.”

He did his best to suppress his chuckle, resulting in a quietly huffed snort. “Bloody trouble you are.”

“Trouble you chose not to live without.”

He hummed, “Trouble I can't live without, sweetheart.”

“Semantics.”

His hand lifted, gripping the back of her neck in that possessive hold of his, thumb softly stroking the tender flesh of her nape. “The truth.”

She smiled softly, contentment clear on her face. “So,” Rory said, changing the subject, “We get Hadir, find the gas, prevent all out war between the West and Russia, and then what? Go for pints?” Sighing, she looked out the window, her gaze far off but not looking at anything in particular, taking a drag of the shared cigarette. “Whether he uses that gas again or not, Russia’s going to want him. And our allies will readily hand him over.” Her gaze returned to him, her brow furrowed. “You know that, yeah? Despite knowing full well what they’ll do to him.”

“Far as they’re concerned, he’s a criminal.”

“Who will be put in the hands of a nation with a terrible record for human rights violations especially for political prisoners.” Rory rubbed her hand down her face and inhaled sharply before releasing a heavy breath. “I fucking hate this part. All the backdoor bureaucracy and political bullshit. Shaking hands and making dirty deals. There’s never any bloody nuance. It’s all well and good when someone at the top decides to bandy their missiles about, but one person decides they’re done being bullied and, well, suddenly the ULF is a terrorist organization.”

“I sometimes forget you’re not quite as cynical as I am.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Still got that soft part of you that thinks the world’ll ever change.”

“I’m not so naive that I don’t already know I’m a cog in the machine, but if I don’t believe that things can change it makes all the sacrifices I've made sort of useless, love.” She sighed and raked her hand through her hair before passing Price the cigarette. “A man’s life hangs in the balance, and I’m sure some would say its for the greater good, but Christ… it’s such a fucking clinical way of looking at it.”

“Same could be said about what we have to do,” he said with a shrug. “The greater good. It’s not pretty though, is it? Never is.” Taking a drag from the cigarette, his eyes scanned her. “But we manage to sleep at night, don’t we?”

“You say to the woman who wakes up screaming with night terrors,” Rory scoffed, “Speak for yourself, my darling.”

“You know this is how things work, Rory.”

“Yes, yes, I know. The world is a terrible place and according to one Captain John Price there’s only one way to fix that, yeah?”

He huffed out a stubborn laugh and shook his head. “As gentle as a bloody lamb, you are. You know that?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said with a little sneer, scrunching up her nose as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, stroking her fingers along his spine as she rested her head against him.

Price’s arms coiled around her, holding her firmly against him, fingers carding through her hair, wrapping sections of it around his calloused digits. “That’s why I won’t let anything ever hurt you, my girl.” His voice low and hoarse as he rested his chin on top of her head. “I like you that way, all soft and sweet for me, darlin’.” His thumb brushed over the soft skin of her cheek, the smell of tobacco smoke clinging to them both. “Don’t know if I deserve ya sometimes, but you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Her head lifted and she gazed up at him, the lights of the street lamps outside glowing on her skin. “You know I am,” she whispered softly. Her warm doe eyes twinkled with fondness, loyalty, devotion.

His chest puffed out, a sense of accomplishment and ownership that overtook him each time he claimed her. A fierce protectiveness that was never far, but particularly sharp in the quiet, intimate moments they shared. Nuzzling into her hair, he gave a low chuckle. "Well, you're stuck with me then, love. There's naught I'd change about that. You're mine, Rory. And I'll take care of you, no matter the cost." It wasn't just a line, not with Price, she already knew he would do anything for her.

Trailing kisses down her neck, a soft growl rumbled in his chest. "And I'll be damned before I let you go, Rory. Can't bear the thought of it, not ever."

“Well, there’s no need to worry about that,” she said softly, her fingers combing through the short, cropped hair at his nape. “I’m your girl, remember? That’s never going to change. Not ever.”

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #john price #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #nikolai cod #oc: rory sinclair #john price x oc #skelly writes #fic: evening of score #chapter 9

19 notes · View notes

dailycharacteroption · 11 days ago

Text

Pactbound Intitiate (Pathfinder Second Edition Archetype)

(art by Kalfy on DeviantArt)

Yesterday we looked at those who swear oaths in order to gain power, but sometimes accepting a pact means taking on a great burden first and foremost. If you’re lucky the vow comes with some neat powers or privileges, but for the most part, it’s all about the duty that one accepts.

Such is the case with today’s entry, one that’s gonna take some setup to understand.

In the real world, the saumen kar, or Tornit or Tuniit, are sometimes compared to the legends of sasquatch as seen through the lens of Inuit culture, though online resources are admittedly rather limited, so that may be entirely wrong.

In Pathfinder, however, the saumen kar are a horned, yeti-like people with glowing blue runic brands covering their bodies, shining through their fur, who typically live in isolation but occasionally interact with the peoples of the Crown of the World.

Not much is known about the Saumen Kar, even to themselves, for it seems that most of their own history has been lost, with not even the purpose of the runes on their bodies being remembered beyond the passive and active elemental benefits.

It wasn’t until the Monsters of Myth book in Second Edition did we get the reveal of what little these people of the snow remember. I recommend reading the full version in the book, but the cliffnotes version is that the saumen kar discovered the source of the black blood of Orv deep belowground, and in a bid to seal this great evil away, they made a deal with their god, erasing nearly all knowledge of their culture and identity (including their worship of said deity) in order to bind a seal around the great evil and the blood-corrupted undead and whisper-corrupted mortals (including several of their own) beneath the earth.

The runes and spells of the binding are spread about on the skin of every living saumen kar. The exact amount of writing on each on fluctuates with the deaths and births of their people.

There’s just one problem: The saumen kar are dying out. Not only do they lack a stable population for reproduction (many haven’t seen another of their king in ages), but over time the nature of the magical burden they carry has worn down the life expectancy of their species. What once stood for several millenia now reach elderly age after only a few centuries.

Nobody knows exactly what will happen when the last saumen kar dies. Maybe that final sacrifice will complete the seal and lock the evil away for eternity, or maybe they’ll break free. Either way, some saumen kar are not willing to let the world find out. To those among other ancestries they trust, they sometimes offer a chance to share their burden, adding willing beings from outside their species to the binding to help keep the world safe.

Which is where today’s archetype comes into play, representing those that have chosen to accept the responsibility, gaining some of the secrets of saumen kar magic in the exchange. So without further ado, let’s begin!

The base dedication of the archetype requires initiation by a saumen kar. After which, other saumen kar can sense the bond and what it means. Meanwhile, as a base benefit, the initiate gains the ability to blend in with falling snow, hiding their presence.

The saumen kar once could infuse magic into ice to make weapons and items that never melt. What’s more, they are infused with a primal power similar to cold iron, making them quite effective against certain foes.

The pact sworn by their ancestors was meant of the saumen kar alone, and as such, many who accept it find their bodies changing. One such transformation grants a strong sense of smell, stealthy instincts, and mighty horns of the icy primates.

Eventually, many find the icy runes of their patron appearing on their skin. These ward the initiate against evil, let them sense the presence of undead. Meanwhile, they also chill ice-crafted weapons and their horns, dealing additional harm to foes.

Just as many saumen kar trap their foes in icy domes, so can some of these initiates, entrapping foes to be dealt with later.

Finally, there is a point of no return where mortals become truly bound to the pact, becoming very saumen kar-like as their bodies grow. With it, their bodies become even more resistant to cold, and their runes finally provide protection from fire as well. Finally, they gain the ability to reflexively discorporate into icy wind and snow, avoiding attacks and punishing those they engulf with chilling frost before returning to their corporeal form.

This archetype is extremely thematic, so much so that it’s not going to see use outside of a campaign that takes place at least partially in the arctic. That being said, it grants some fun utility such as crafting magic items from ice, as well as melee options for passive extra damage and attacks, as well as escaping harm at the zenith of their power. Pretty much any class can make use of this power, but it seems to do best with natural attack builds.

Now, like yesterday’s entry, this archetype is begging for homebrew. After all, there are a lot of mystical forces and the like that one could take a binding oath to serve and protect, even at great personal cost, so this archetype is a handy template for just that!

Though massive for a shoony and always cold to the touch, Billbram has been a loyal caretaker of his people’s lore for ages. He was not always so, however, but returned from adventuring to the far north with the blessings of the “wise one” that he speaks little of. Even so, the process blessed him with a very long life as a fixture of the community, but even one such as he cannot live forever.

Rimed by frost and bearing a legacy of curses and duty, two foes are set on a collision course. One a disgraced warrior turned graveknight seeking purpose in a power hidden in the farthest north, while the other is blessed by the icy-blue runes that mark his role in guarding that power. When they finally meet, the ice will tremble with their battle, and many forces watch the outcome.

They say that in the center of the ruins of Pelgana lies an ancient weapon that spelled the city’s doom. Greedy nations, blind to the danger, have tried to claim it, but they have all been thwarted by those who guard it, ordinary men and women mostly descended from the citizens of fallen Pelgana, who bear on their brow the rune of the bleeding eye which is emblazoned on the side of the weapon’s outer casing.

#pathfinder second edition #archetype #pactbound initiate #shoony #graveknight #Monsters of Myth

9 notes · View notes

reds-skull · 8 months ago

Text

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

So many projects, so little time... anyway, here's chapter 11, "The Battle-Sick"

Page 3 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable ?:

I was a wonderful thing, shaped for fighting, Loyal to my masters, I slayed living warriors, Friends and foes, I was a weapon of war. I shall never be avenged, shall I fall in battle, As I am cursed, in the eyes of kin and enemies, To be not a man, but a monster. I am starved, of blood and flesh, Alone I roam this land, a damned Beast.

Soap can feel Ghost’s gaze burning at his nape, questions left unanswered in the silent space between them.

In the span of a few hours, Soap saw someone else come out of Ghost’s actions. A man, buried years ago in dry earth, dead in all ways but physically. The man Captain Price mourned, the man he aspired to be.

The man that saved those children wasn’t the infamous Ghost.

Soap brushes a shaky hand over his mouth, the metallic taste of blood still sticking to his teeth. He’s running out of adrenaline, he knows, and the wheezing of his breath seems to be only getting louder in the empty alleyways.

He trips over nothing, barely catching himself on the cold wall, when strong arms pull him up.

“Coffee shop, on our three. Hold on just a little longer.” Ghost murmurs, hand coming under his shoulders to support his weight.

Soap goes to answer, finding his voice weak and scratchy, “aye.”

Ghost’s breath on his neck is somewhat soothing, in a way Soap shouldn’t find from a man like him.

The coffee shop has seen better days, to say the least. The stairs to the first floor have collapsed, and the ground floor is completely trashed. Quite like everywhere else in the city, Soap bitterly thinks to himself.

Ghost lets him down on the only chair that seems stable in the shop, and turns to clear it of hostiles. Soap gets up to follow him, but his vision darkens the moment he tries to get on his feet, and he falls back with a huff.

It would’ve made him angry, to be left so useless, but…

Simon has been left paralyzed, defenceless, shoved a knife to his palm and bared his scarred throat, and still trusted him. Never looked at him with any less than…

Than what? What is that emotion, in Simon’s eyes, when he looks at Soap? He blinks away the dark tendrils encroaching on his vision, brows furrowed as he tries to keep a semblance of a train of thought.

Ghost returns before he can veer it back on track. “Please tell me you found somethin’ teh drink.” Soap groans.

“Affirmative, got us a tea.” Ghost spreads the supplies he gathered from around the shop on the table next to Soap, teabags among the bottles of water and scrap fabric.

Soap sneers, “awa’ an’ bile yer heid, we’re in a fuckin’ coffee shop and ye pull out tea, fuckin’ Brits-”

His list of expletives is cut by rough coughing, and Soap has to spit out the excess mucus on the floor. Ghost crouches down, and gently cups his cheek. Soap’s eyes snap to his. Whatever emotion is swirling in those dark brown eyes, he still can’t name, but it makes his heart twist.

Ghost tilts his head up, brushing fingers over the probably bruised skin of his neck, “have any trouble breathing?”

Soap’s breath catches, not from any physical wound, “no. Jus’... throat pain. Ah didn’t lose consciousness.” cold hands soothe over his bruises, making him involuntarily sigh.

Ghost nods, “tea will help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles as he pulls back his hands, Soap almost chasing them. Fatigue is starting to take its toll on him, and his head feels like it weighs more than a LTV right about now. A tap to his cheek makes him open his eyes (when did he close them?), “can’t sleep yet, Sergeant. Gonna clean your face.”

That’s the only warning he gets before a wet towel brushes over his mouth, sweeping over flaking, dried blood. “Surprised the wee ones weren’t afraid o’ either of us. One skull-faced bastard, the other looks like a damn vampire.”

Silent laughter shakes Ghost’s shoulders, “those kids were tough ones, swear they were about to fight me when we first met.”

“Tougher than they need teh be, at their age.”

Ghost’s movements become somber.

Soap catches one of the many questions floating through his tired mind, “why’d you save ‘em?”

The towel is thrown to the side, replaced by a dry one, “...I wanted to.” Ghost simply answers.

It doesn’t satisfy him, “that why ye worked with the Hunter?”

Ghost’s hands freeze for a short moment, before continuing to softly clean Soap’s neck. His words weren’t said with anger, but the harshness of them remained all the same. It leaves a bitter note in Soap’s mouth.

At what point did seeing Ghost get hurt by his words stop bringing any sort of satisfaction?

“I worked with the Hunter because… I worked with anyone. No questions asked, no job too dirty for me. Not that it was ever about money.”

Ghost lowers his hands, resting them in his own lap. His eyes drift downwards, lost in the past, “I did what I did because I didn’t know anything else. Survival meant fighting, and it didn’t matter who.”

Ghost rises to his feet, taking a cup off the nearby shelf and setting about to make the tea, “as long as there was blood on my hands that wasn’t mine, I knew I was alive.”

Soap opens his mouth, cruel words at the tip of his tongue, but he falters when Ghost’s really hit him.

Because he knows that feeling.

That hunger for violence, that need to feel bones break under his hands, a yearning stronger than anything for fresh blood. It is not a want, it is not something they take pleasure in. It’s simply the only way to feel alive. For Soap, it may be only for the Hunter and their soldiers.

But when you’re constantly trying to survive, won’t the whole world start to look like an enemy?

“Why didn’t you stay with the civilians?” Ghost shakes him from his reverie.

The answer is stupidly simple. “I told ye we’re doing this together.” Soap stares deeply into Ghost’s widening eyes, “and I meant it.”

“But…” Ghost sighs, “we don’t have a way to find the Hunter.”

He hands Soap a cup, the aromatic tea somewhat pleasant for once. It is cold, but it does help the scratchiness in his throat as it goes down.

“Aye… We’ll-” a yawn cuts off Soap’s sentence, “we’ll need teh catch another fecker, maybe…”

Ghost’s eyes narrow at him, “what you need to do is sleep, Sergeant. You can’t even stand on your feet, can you?”

Soap scoffs, “‘course Ah can, ye weapon.” he thumped the mug down on the table, and held on it for dear life as he tried to rise from the chair.

Ghost caught him no more than 2 seconds later, when Soap’s face was about to have a very personal meeting with the dirty floor.

“Of course you can, huh?” Ghost goads.

Soap drops heavily back down, “wheesht.”

“Speak English.” he can fucking hear the smirk on Ghost’s lips.

Soap drops his head, finally giving in to the need to just crumple, “means shut yer puss…”

A hand on his hair surprises him, but Soap doesn’t dare move as fingers card through the tangles. It feels really nice… almost putting him to sleep.

Ghost’s voice is soft when he orders him, “c’mon, I’m sure we can find you a better spot for a nap than on a stool.”

He doesn’t really answer, far too knackered to be coherent. Soap feels the hand recede, and footsteps echo farther and farther away from him. A few minutes later, Ghost returns to urge him up, “set up some blankets and pillows behind the counter.”

Soap appreciates the attempt to keep him in the know, but at this point he’d let Ghost lead him over a cliff, and he won’t complain one bit.

The makeshift bed reminds Soap of the shitty pillow forts he would build with his sister back when they were kids, and the blurry memories make him suppress a laugh. With the way Ghost is staring at him, Soap thinks the giggles make him all the more concerned.

And what a concept that is. Ghost, concerned over his well-being.

Ghost lets him down carefully, wrapping him with moth-eaten blankets. Compared to the last “bed” Soap slept in, this is as good as a five-star hotel.

He can barely keep his eyes open, but Soap, as aware as he is in his compromised status, can’t let his guard down when Ghost turns to walk away. He manages to catch the sleeve of the giant man, and dark eyes turn to stare at him.

“Yer… yer not gonna leave me, right?” he mumbles.

Ghost stops, “just gonna go keep watch by the window. Not leaving.”

Sleep claws on Soap’s eyelids, and it takes far too much willpower to keep them open, “stay ‘here Ah can see ye… Don’ run off now…..”

The last thing he hears before he goes unconscious is, “never, Johnny.”

Gentle fingers card through his hair.

“Johnny.”

John groans, unwilling to open his eyes and start the day.

“Wake up, love.”

“‘S too early for that shite, let me sleep.” he burrows deeper into his pillow, enveloped in warmth and safety.

His pillow starts, very rudely, shaking with laughter, “fine, you lazy bastard.”

That voice… sounds familiar. Familiar in the way a knife’s weight is in John’s hand, in the way blood spills over his wounds, like the buzz of adrenaline in a fire fight.

Yet John feels… safe.

Gentle fingers card through his tangled hair. Why would it be tangled? Isn’t he at home?

“Can’t sleep yet, Sergeant. Gonna clean your face.”

John frowns, “my face is clean.”

Hands tilt his face up. There’s some sort of tackiness to his skin, he notices. A metallic taste bursts on his tongue.

John opens his eyes.

Dirty blond hair, messy from a mask pulled off non too kindly, rich brown eyes wide in surprise, dark like a grave’s fresh dirt. Scars leave valleys and hills on pale skin.

The features are there, but John can’t make sense of them. A stranger’s face, yet it feels so familiar.

Perhaps it is only the emotion carved into it, fear and shock twisting the man’s eyes.

Soap wakes up with a start, grasping tightly at the thin blankets wrapped around him. It takes him a few seconds to shake off the dream’s warmth, to feel again how cold the coffee shop really is. He takes a cursory look around - Ghost must have left for overwatch while he was sleeping.

He eventually forces himself to get up, encouraged by the fact that his legs stay somewhat steady under his weight.

“Ghost?”

Soap walks over to the wider area of the coffee shop, where once there were floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed patrons to bask in the sun while drinking, but now are shattered.

In a dark, hidden corner, that Soap almost dismissed immediately, a huddled shape rested against the wall. Ghost’s dark gear blends near perfectly into the shadows. Soap is sure, if he wasn’t looking for the damn man, he’d never find him.

He has to step closer to actually see his eyes through the mask and darkness. Ghost is completely out, so still, he might as well be dead.

Soap huffs. In the entire time they’ve been fighting together, he’s never seen him asleep. The nearest thing to it was the rest in the shed, but even then Soap knew Ghost was constantly ready to strike, if it were needed.

Here, curled into a small ball, hands wrapped around himself, Ghost looks so unnaturally small and harmless.

Soap doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Ghost shifts, murmuring something under his breath and curling further into himself.

He scoffs internally and turns to find something to eat. The fuck is he doing, thinking this giant international criminal is cute. He blames that weird fucking dream he had, as well as a million different other excuses.

Soap repeats the mantra in his head ‘He’s not fuckin’ cute, he’s not goddamn endearing’, as he finds a couple of sandwiches that seem to be edible enough. He collects enough for Ghost as well, for when the bastard wakes up.

Whining from the dark corner makes him freeze.

Soap turns to look at Ghost, his shoulders now taut and shuddering, “...Ghost?”

“N-no… I wouldn’t… I’m sorry…” Ghost whispers, eyes scrunched shut.

Nightmare. Soap wonders if that’s what Ghost saw back in the shed. “Ghost”, he calls again, louder, the previous calmness he felt washed away.

Ghost’s hands crease his black jacket, leather gloves cricking in his tight grip, “I’m sorry… P-Price…”

He knows he shouldn’t get closer, that night terrors can make the friendliest of soldiers hostile, when shrouded by conjured nightmares and warped memories. But the sight of Ghost in that state makes Soap feel the need to do something, anything to help him.

He chances a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, “...Simon? Wake up, yer safe-”

Muscles bulge as they shoot up at him, Ghost wraps his hand around Soap’s, and in a blink, they’re on the floor. He pins him down by the neck, heavy breathing and shaking.

It hurts tenfold, to be choked for the second time in a few hours. Soap claws at the massive arms, attempts to lessen their heavy weight on his windpipe. Even in his sleep, Ghost is a force to be reckoned with.

When Soap sees those dark eyes open, searching wildly for hostiles, he thinks that perhaps, in his sleep, Ghost is even more terrifying. Fighting against the worst his mind can think of.

“S-Simon-” Soap manages to whisper.

The hands retreat instantly, and Soap turns to his side, coughing and massaging his wounded neck.

Ghost has crawled backwards until he hit the wall, eyes still wide open, their whites standing out over black painted skin. Soap heaves himself to his knees, moving closer to the shivering man. But Ghost shakes his head.

“Don’t-” Ghost says between breaths, “stay back.”

Soap, as he often does, refuses to listen, “why?”

Brown eyes flicker down to his neck before returning to his, “I’ll hurt you.”

“Ye won’t.” Soap stops in front of him, sitting back on his haunches.

Soap can see the tension still wrecking though Ghost, muscles trembling with fatigue and soreness. He chances a hand again, laying it on Ghost’s shoulder. The body under his palm freezes.

He leans in closer, tries to see inside Ghost’s eyes to his thoughts.

This close, he can see just how pale his eyelashes are, how there are flecks of black shoot through the rich brown umber of his eyes. Something about them draws Soap in, in a way an oil painting would. How dark Ghost’s eyes are, how his pupils blend with the sclera.

“Johnny-” Ghost whispers, “the mask…”

Soap’s brows crease, “ye want me to take it off?”

“Please.”

At his begging tone, Soap doesn’t hesitate, and slowly slides a hand over the skull, pulling it up and off.

Simon stares up at him, his eye black running down his cheeks, from tears or rain, he's not so sure anymore. At that moment, Soap realizes what emotion lingers in Simon’s eyes wherever he looks at him.

Faith.

Simon… has faith in him. More wholly than Soap remembers ever seeing.

Not just in life and death, but with this as well. With his most vulnerable moments. It shines through so clearly now, the serenity over Simon’s features the longer he looks at Soap.

He looks…

“Beautiful…”

Simon frowns in confusion, “what?”

Soap presses a thumb to the dark tear tracks, swiping under Simon’s eyes. “Yer bonnie. Never… noticed before.”

Simon opens his mouth to answer, and it breaks Soap from the trance he was stuck in. He pulls his hand away, as if it was burned, and wrecks his mind for a way to veer the conversation away from his stupid, weird behaviour.

Stupid steamin’ dream, stupid Simon with his stupidly pretty eyes, stupid-

“Ye said Price’s name. When ye were…”

Simon looks away, lips curving downwards minutely, “don’t remember.”

Soap sighs. Should’ve expected the deflection-

“He was… my captain. Before.” Simon murmurs, eyes on the broken shards of glass scattered on the floor. “I haven’t seen ‘im in years, not since I became legally dead.”

Soap can imagine. He remembers, even in his brief interactions with the Captain, just how much it was obvious that Simon meant a lot to him. If he knew Simon was Ghost, surely Price would-

“That’s it.” Simon murmurs, eyes alight with a new fire. Soap raises an eyebrow, and Simon turns to face him fully.

Gone is the softness in his tone when he says, “I know how we can get to the Hunter.”

Ghost stands up, offering a hand for Soap, “we need to get our hands on a radio.” Ghost leaves him behind as he starts collecting their equipment.

Soap follows him, shoving a still wrapped sandwich in his hands, “what are ye planning, Simon?”

Those dark eyes stare at him with newfound conviction, as Ghost pulls the mask back over his head.

“There’s only one other person who would be able to locate the Hunter in this city.”

Soap’s brows shoot up when he understands.

“Captain Price…”

22 notes · View notes

its-a-snood-silly · 1 year ago

Text

Wenclair Headcanon 🖤🩷

Wednesday realizes her feelings. Pt. 2

Enid’s POV

I can feel my mouth hanging open, but honestly, I don’t care. THE Wednesday Addams just confessed her feelings for me. My brain feels like it’s spinning with a million thoughts, yet is completely blank all at the same time. My chest feels tight and my cheeks feel hot.

Say something, Enid. Anything.

Why can I not form words right now?

“It would be nice if you could say something right now, Enid.” Wednesday says in a tone that’s way too quiet for her usual demeanor. I’d almost go as far as to say she’s showing some shyness right now.

God, she’s probably feeling totes vulnerable right now, say something you spineless furball!

“I- um… I like you too Wednesday. I have for awhile. I just didn’t ever think you’d feel the same way towards me, so.. I buried it and told myself that I can just work it out with Ajax, but… You’re the only person that truly stays on my mind-“

Really Sinclair, freak-a-zoid much?

“Wait- I uh mean… Um…. I mean, I-“ My palm flies up to my forehead in shame. I can tell I’m nervous from how fast I’m talking. She’s totally going to be weirded out.

“You’re the only thing that stays on my mind as well.” her voice says, her tone a bit more confident this time. I can feel myself blushing. The atmosphere around us feels as though it softens, and just as I sense myself moving closer towards her, the bathroom door flies open. Wednesday instinctively jumps back a couple feet, and I can feel my heart racing as I turn around to see who came in. “What on earth is taking so long? What is going on in here?” Professor Lavinia questions.

Omg… How long have we been in here? Class for sure ended a long time ago.

Before I can even form a sentence, Wednesday has already started. “You’ll have to excuse us, Professor. We got carried away in a debate against the effectiveness of being burned at the stake versus hanged. I’m sure you understand, being a history buff yourself,” she says. Professor Lavinia’s jaw clenches, and in that moment I swear you could visually see her pupils narrow. “Watch it, Miss Addams. Inappropriate wasting of time when you should be in class is not a great way to start off the new school year. You both missed the entirety of the orientation presentation. Go on off to where you’re supposed to be. Now!” Lavinia scolds. I lower my head and follow shortly behind Wednesday on the way out. While we’re walking, a sudden wave of euphoria washes over me, and I can’t help but to add a skip in my walk.

“Sooo…. Where are you off to next?” I ask Wednesday, hoping our schedules for this year line up. She glances at me, and then moves her eyes back to the hallway in front of us. “The main office. I have a meeting with advisory to decide on a focused major,” Wednesday replies. I can’t read her tone this time. “Oh-em-gee, you should totes go for Mortuary Science. It just screams Wednesday so perfectly!” I squeal. Wednesday’s jaw tightens. “Enid, please. Can you take it down a notch?” she says, colder infliction this time. “Sorry.. You’re right. Just kind of feeling giddy. You know, after everything that…. Nevermind. Anyways- Good luck at your meeting roomie! I’ll catch you later!” I say, leaving her with a wink. I notice the slightest upturn in her lips. It makes my stomach flutter. As I turn the other way, I catch a glimpse of Yoko and hurry to catch up with her.

“Hey Yoko! First day going great for you too?” I greet, hoping my manneurisms aren’t more enthusiastic than usual. “Oh, as great as lectures, first-day homework assignments and moody outcasts can be. You’re in a good mood. What’s happening in Enid-ville?” Yoko immediately questions.

Oh hell. Am I THAT obvious?

An uncontrollable smile spreads across my face. “It’s been quite a first day, for sure.”

(aaah i don’t know if this is good, it was a bit more challenging writing from enid’s pov! hope u like, more to come xx)

#wenclair #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #enid x wednesday #wednesday x enid #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #emma myers #jenna ortega

85 notes · View notes

imliketheiceifreeze · 1 year ago

Text

Nightmares with Miles Quaritch

Recom Miles Quaritch x AFAB reader (fluff)

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, minors DNI.

1,833 words

It had been a long shift, and you were beyond tired as you trudged towards your room quietly as you could. Bar work was always hell, most days you wanted to quit and return back to earth; not only due to the long, unsociable hours and the endless amounts of vomit you had to clean, but also for the constant comments and harassment you faced from the soldiers at this base.

It had always been an issue, and something you were acutely aware of being a relatively young bottle girl, but these military men were something else, they had absolutely no decorum that's for sure...you wondered what their mothers would think...

However, your meandering mind was calmed instantly at the sight of your boyfriend spread out on your double bed, sheets draped haphazardly over his enormous cyan body, the stripes on his back peeking out from the crisp white linen enough to make your eyes graze over them thoughtfully.

He was the main reason it only took you a few minutes to shower and dress for bed, eager to not only feel sleep take over and soothe your aching limbs, but also to encase yourself in Miles' strong arms as you nuzzle into his chest, or to hear the raspy edge in his voice as he murmured nonsense in your ear and draws you close, like he always does when you get off a night shift.

Slipping under the sheets you shivered at the fevered body heat he provided, shuffling close to Miles and leaning your head on his torso.

"Mmm, baby, com'ere," he slurred as one arm wound around your waist like a vice, the heavy limb lulling you to sleep like your own personal weighted blanket, and it wasn't long before your eyes fluttered shut and the world around you spun out of view.

You awoke with a start, gasping for air and sat up straight like a statue, to your right your eyes laid on a figure, a shadowy outline, staring right at you, yet you were unable to move, eyes bulging in horror at the clawed fingers of the hunched over thing.

"Hey, sweetheart, sweetheart, whats wrong?" You vaguely hear a voice in your ear, everything moving too fast for you to register that you're even awake, all that sears into your mind is arms, grabbing and pulling you in the dark, causing your stomach to drop, that icy feeling rising up your body again as you attempt to fight off the attacker.

"No, please stop," you whimper out, struggling with all your strength to escape the suffocating grip.

"Shit, baby it's me, look at me, Y/N." A hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your skin as it forces your head to the side. When your gaze finally slips from the ghost like figure and your eyes readjust, Miles' piercing amber eyes to come into view, his gaze is clouded with desperation.

"M-miles?" You stutter out in confusion, until your brain finally decides to become fully conscious, and the realisation that there was no one hurting you, or watching you and that you were safe washed over you immediately.

"Miles!" You exclaimed again, effectively leaping into his open arms and burying your head in his shoulder, allowing your tears to smear against his skin whilst you nose into his neck for comfort.

"That's it darling, fuck... you scared me" he paused, you could feel the tension in his voice as he seemed to hold himself back from the words he needed to speak. "You know I'd never hurt you right? Ain't gonna let nothing happen to ya angel," he rasped, voice barely above a whisper as his fingers tangled themselves into your hair, massaging your scalp, and you were unsure if it was more to soothe yourself or him.

"I know," you smile, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, earning yourself a pair of warm lips, pressing gingerly against your hairline as large blue fingers run lightly across your face and upper arm.

The moment reminded you so much of a dream you'd always had when you were younger, you'd been so scared to sleep back then that you'd kept a knife under your pillow. You'd promised yourself that one day you'd marry a tough military man and make him sleep next to you every night, and that way you'd never have to be scared to sleep again.

And he didn't say anything, didn't make you explain yourself, or make you feel embarrassed, just held you keeping you safe in his arms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are we gonna talk about it?" Miles' deep voice rang out in the silence, your head jerking up instinctively as you hurriedly pulled on your jacket.

"talk about what?" you smiled, tilting your head to the side at his serious demeanour, arms crossed, feet planted firmly as if he was scolding one of his underlings.

"Don't do that," he balked, eyes narrowing, observing your twitchy state. Sighing, you stilled yourself, pausing whatever menial task you were fulfilling so as not to have this conversation.

"I just prefer it when we don't talk," you murmur, eyes widening as you realise what you're saying, watching Miles' own stance loosen, arms dropping to his sides in surprise.

"No, that's not what I mean, Miles," you scramble, rushing to his side, hands running over his arms in a soothing motion as his eyes meet yours, unimpressed expression beckoning you to continue with one eyebrow raised. "I just mean...I like that I don't have to explain things to you, I feel like you understand already, you know."

His expression softens, one large hand coming to cup your jaw in his calloused palm. "Course I understand ya baby, but only as much as ya let me, I ain't a mind reader."

He sounded frustrated, the vein in his neck popping out as he spoke, more candidly than you'd ever heard him before. "Look... I know I aint' the most affectionate boyfriend, but I want ya t' know you can talk to me, 'bout anything baby."

You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as a smile ghosts your lips, you love moments like this, where his eyes are focused on you and only you. "Okay," you breathe deeply before continuing "You want to know?"

He only looks down at you in silence, his penetrative stare was enough to make anyone crumble and you could see why he drove fear into the hearts of so many soldiers.

"I just, get nightmares sometimes...and sometimes I see things when I wake up....and then I can't move, other times...when I wake up, I'm not in my bed..." You trail off, a rosy blush blooming on your cheeks as you avoid his judging eyes.

He blew out a low whistling breath, drawing your attention back to him. "And you didn't think to tell me this?"

Pursing your lips you cross your arms across your chest defensively before replying meagerly "Thought you'd laugh."

"Get over here," he commands you, closely followed by his arms pulling you in, not giving you much choice in the matter. One hand rests on your head as it collides with his stone wall of a chest, though the sound of his steady heartbeat always manages to soothe you.

"I know about nightmares sweetheart, sometimes, these guys, when they've seen too much, didn't have anyone to talk to, they get something like that. Now I know it ain't the same but I've calmed down enough soldiers to know about fear baby, and I could see you were terrified...shaking like a leaf...like you were looking right through me... giving me that same look."

He paused, giving you room to speak if you wanted to, but you stayed silent, wanting him to finish his piece. "Now if you don't wanna talk to me about it, that's alright, I respect that. I just don't want ya to think I don't wanna know...cos I do...I wanna know everything about ya baby."

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, you could see this was hard for him, and hadn't expected to pull such intense emotions from the usually stoic man, especially so early in the morning.

"Miles," you call out to him, drawing him out of his thoughts with a gentle hand against his chest. "You're so sweet to me, I-I, god, I don't know what to say," you whisper, leaning up on your toes, forehead meeting his, with a little help from his bent knees.

"What do you want to say?" He grunts, eyes flicking down to your lips as the gravitational pull between you both starts to come into effect, bringing you together like magnets until your lips were brushing his, sending shivers down your spine.

You knew exactly what you wanted to say, in fact you had so much to say, but as always you were held back by fear. To avoid the question, you press your lips more firmly against his, kissing him gently, with a flick of your tongue against his lower lip, trying to grant yourself entry. However a tight grip on your jaw pulls you away from your target, and the somewhat bemused eyes of Colonel Quaritch meet yours once again, his own tongue running across his lips suggestively.

"Stop trying to distract me darlin'," he grins a little despite himself, raising his eyebrows impatiently.

"Is it working?"

"Don't make me ask you again Y/N, tell me what you want to say,"he growls a little, fingers now brushing a little more exploratively over your waist and hips, his mind visibly wandering.

"Nga yawne lu oer," you whisper against his ear-a little phrase of Na'vi you'd picked up after hanging out with the scientists for too long. You wouldn't have said it if you'd ever, even for a second, thought that Miles might have understood you. You weren't ready to have your heart broken in front of your eyes, not right now, you needed some more time, that's what you always told yourself.

Yet when his hands stilled on your body and he dropped to his knees in front of you like a rag doll, you couldn't help but take in his expression, his hands shaking ever so slightly as they cupped your face with a lovers tenderness, making you wonder if he'd really heard you. Your fears, however, fully dissipate as he kisses you gently, holding you like you were his last life line.

"I love you Y/N." He whispers it against your lips as he pulls away, eyes smiling as he meets your gaze, his brazen confidence always throwing you off guard in these moments.

"I love you," you say it again, just in case, you need him to hear it, to know how much he means to you.

"I love you," he repeats it back as you both melt into one another, more tender whispers are shared between you both as your lips meet over and over in a passionate embrace.

Taglist:

@ab-haya

@isabellekenway

@mechformers

@lvangel98

@htnw004

@jayedillon

@violet-19999

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@holysaladapricothero

@misscaller06

@fanboyluvr

@forestcottageboy

@adaydreamaway08

@ancientbeing10

@kai9999901

@jatwow

@okig3

@personaldemons-stuff

@ok-boke

#miles quaritch #avatar fanfiction #stephen lang #avatar the way of water #colonel quaritch #avatar #miles quaritch fluff #recom squad #recombinant miles quaritch #avatar movie #miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #recom quaritch #miles quaritch x you #Miles quaritch x y/n

111 notes · View notes

downtoncoquetteroach · 11 months ago

Text

Notes: Damn I wasn't expecting this to be that long, I'm really sorry for taking all this time to update, this chapter took a lot of me, I was planning something lighter and smutier for it but man, these days have a heavy load of darkness, fortunately the sun rebirth is already upon us so, I hope this words bring some sort of cozy feeling, I wrote it with all my heart as a way to embrace all of the beautiful souls that read this words, you mean the world to me. I hope you have a lovely holiday and merry Christmas to you all 🎄❣️.

TW: swearing, angst, drugs consumption.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 🎀 dancing at our own pace 🎄

Y/n was reading out loud her notes from potions so Neville could see how messy and intelligible they were. They were alone in the common room laughing and it was really late. There was a beautiful song playing but y/n couldn't figure out who it was. She was sitting with her legs spread over Neville's, about to ask him who was the singer but she realized that Neville's fingers started distractingly caressing her left knee, she went stiff and felt her flesh trembling below his tender and warm touch, goosebumps raising all over her skin, a warm feeling coming over her chest, the simple sight of his hand touching her was providing such pleasure... He suddenly realized what he was doing and stopped apologizing nervously. She slowly incorporated into the couch oddly sure of herself while he was compulsively telling her how sorry he was, she sat on his legs facing him, arms around his neck, legs clutching his. He went silent. She slowly touched his lower lip mildly open while he went stiff. "Neville I don't want you to stop touching me". He was speechless but y/n felt his hardness right below her ass. It was really warm and hard, the pleasure was increasing while she rubbed her ass again and again as he started to moan in her ear, his hot breathing causing goosebumps on her neck, she needed more pressure, some how it wasn't enough, somehow Snape was reading her notes making fun of her while the singer was making pancakes that filled the common room with a delicious smell.

Oh fuck...

Y/n was now fully awake, her eyes facing the sun coming through the window. She was being embraced tightly by Neville's arm around her waist. His body fully pressed to her, she was actually feeling his boner on her ass and she was fully wet as a result. They must have fallen asleep while talking about the party and how her muggle friends were like.

Was she actually rubbing against him before? Or was it just in the dream? She felt so embarrassed she couldn't move. Was he awake? By his deep slow breaths she dared to guess he wasn't, otherwise he would definitely not be pressing his hard member against her bum. She didn't knew what to do, if she moved she was risking to wake him up and face the humiliation of what was happening but if she stayed... The thought of staying and seeing how it could go increased the humidity on her panties. She decided to be quick and stepped out of the bed pushing Neville's arm, almost running to the bathroom and took care of her troubled feelings taking a shower. Her grandma was still humming when she went downstairs for breakfast. Neville was already there, helping. They didn't stared at each other too much that afternoon, y/n couldn't quite figure if it was the morning accident or the prospect of the party but Neville was nervous as fuck, clumsy and stuttering. When it was time to go she approached him

Nev if you don't want to go its ok, we can stay here and watch a movie or something, I'm sorry for putting so much pressure on you with this and not telling you before, I didn't even ask if you wanted to go... I was stupid, I'm sorry.

The first thing Neville saw that morning were y/n's legs despairing behind the door. He realized that the wonderful dream he was having made an effect on his body in the real world. He had an immediate urge to disappear from the face of earth, Y/n must have felt it and she was so disgusted with it that she felt the need to cleaning herself as soon as possible. He felt so guilty and ashamed he couldn't bare to look at her in the eye's. He spent the hole day struggling with the urge to leave, but he was a coward and he actually didn't wanted to go, but he just couldn't found the words to apologize. He was a horrible friend already, having a secret crush with her and now this?, what a fucked up retard he was, always spoiling everything... Ginny had told him to be careful with his feelings, but he was familiar with rejection, he had already lost, as always, since the beginning so...what worried him the most was preserving their friendship, but after the way he was acting he wasn't sure he could remain beside her, he didn't deserve her, not as friend, much less as a lover.

But he looked her in the eyes for the first time that day, she was gorgeous ...and worried about him, she wasn't even saying a thing about "the incident". He felt a weight in his stomach. He had to man up and sucked up all of his self pity thoughts, he couldn't stand to be the motive of her concern. It was in his hands to make her happy, so he changed his attitude and cheerfully exclaimed

Nonsense y/n. Let's go.

******************************

Angie was y/n's childhood friend. They grew apart after y/n got her Hogwarts letter but they still cared for each other a lot and spent a considered amount of time walking and biking around the neighborhood when y/n was home for vacations. Angie was under the impression that y/n attended to a Catholic private school far away as a consequence of y/n's parents divorce.

Angie was tall, bony and very attractive, her attitude and mindset were a little bit too mature for her age, sometimes it was hard to believe that her and y/n were at the same grade at some point, but that day was her birthday and she was excited like a little girl, jumping around and talking so fast and so loud it was highly contagious. When Neville and y/n showed up at her door she started jumping like a bunny, hugging y/n so tight Neville was concerned she might suffocate her.

The decorations in the living room were a combination of birthday balloons and Christmas lights, there were several amounts of teenagers talking in different groups, most of them seemed posh but a few of them looked like regular town kids, it was also very curious to Neville the lack of girls, being so used to be surrounded by them he was a little nervous when the male energy was higher. He tried very hard not to look uncomfortable and wave but there was no time for the crowd to respond because as soon as y/n showed up behind him everyone was really excited and cheerfully greeted her friend. She introduced him to everyone, they were totally curious about him and the school they went together, Neville tried as hard as he could to keep the details of Hogwarts and magic out of his mind and really soon he discovered that it was really easy because most muggles hated school as much as him and unfortunately, everyone had some really nasty stories about abusive teachers just like him and they had parents with great expectations that made them feel overwhelmed, so, for the first time in like forever, he actually felt understood, like he belonged. Everyone was drinking and after a while, Neville offered to bring some refreshments to give y/n and Angie time to talk in private.

So, did he dye his hair or that's not Fred... -Angie went straight to the point, y/n was dreading Angie interrogation but her friend deserved some explaining, after all those years hearing all about her pinning over Fred, she had gained the right to know the details, specially now that she finally had something more juicy to tell than the eternal description of how Fred's hair could shine in the morning. She told her everything that happened between them but she did an special remark on how she started to be friends with Neville, she told her how amazing that Sunday on the greenhouse had been, and described the music, the feelings, the light, the plants, how good was Neville rolling a joint and how he saved her from the awkwardness of encountering with Fred.

Angie was curiously listening to her, clearly having her own thoughts on the matter, she suddenly stopped y/n's discourse on Neville's incredibile music taste.

-Wait, So do you like this guy now?

-No, he's my friend

-Ha!

-What?!

-Are you really playing out that card then?

-If you don't mind I'll love for you to be clear darling.

-Do I really need to tell you?

-What?! - y/n was laughing but starting to lose her patience, sometimes Angie made her feel so dumb and clueless. Y/n didn't had older sisters but she was positive this was the dynamic between them.

-It's better if I show you. -Angie gave her one of her sassy signature looks while chewing her plastic cup and walked away. Y/n was confused but instead of following her she went to the kitchen to find Neville, he was gone for quite awhile and she was worried of leaving him alone for too long around strangers specially when he didn't know that much about muggles although, she was really impressed with how he had handled everyone's interrogation earlier. The party was crowded and the lights were dime, she greeted some friends she hadn't seen and after a little while, she found Neville surrounded by local stoners, smoking and congratulating him on the good stash. He was laughing, blushing and mingling, so comfortable and confident it was hard to believe it was the same boy who suffered so much bullying on school. He was wearing a black shirt, black coat, black trousers and stripped socks on Gryffindor colours, legs and arms crossed, not out of discomfort, but as a power move, for the first time, the boys around him were seeking his approval and not otherwise. Y/n haven't noticed how handsome he looked when they leave the house, must have been the awkward day they had... She remembered the dream, a guilty but delicious sensation invaded her... Fuck, she needed a drink.

In that moment Neville saw her, he already had a beer, he was sensible to alcohol so he wasn't planning on drinking too much, specially because he felt responsible for y/n's safety, but he needed a few drinks to relax and be able to talk to her about that morning... She was lovely on that little black skirt and those elegant black stockings, her black t-shirt was a bit transparent and he was able to see the strap on her bra...he definitely needed to stop looking at her in that way. He approached her, leaving his public behind.

-Excuse me little girl, I can't help but wonder, are you old enough to drink?

Y/n laughed, continued pouring herself a drink.

-Oh I see, you are breaking the law young lady, I have to scort you out of these hole full of decadence and lust - hi's joke was lame but it was working, she was laughing and as a response she drank up the whole cup and started to pour another one, eyes fixed on him, a mischievous smirk on her wet lips.

He gasped dramatically and then went serious

-Are you defying me? - he came closer, towering her in such a way she ended up against the kitchen bar, her eyes lifting up to meet hi's, she was nervous, y/n stoped hearing anything except her heart racing, her hands sweaty and everything she could percibe was just Neville's sent, she could have never imagined Neville acting like that, but it was so thrilling, everyone else in the room disappeared, it was just the two of them, his body so close to hers, his hands on each side of the wall behind her, cornering her, looking at her deeply, getting really close...

But they weren't alone.

-My guest told me about that amazing stash of yours, handsome - Angie was right behind Neville whispering in his ear, leaned on his shoulder, y/n's gutts twisted. The moment was gone. Neville turned, smiling shyly, his whole body language shifting.

-Oh, it's an exaggeration, don't trust them, they are high you know!- Neville was tapping his feet nervously, y/n couldn't stop her eyebrows from furrowing

-Oh, come on, birthday spliff? - Angie was pouting, she was actually pouting! trying to look as cute as she could. That was not new for y/n to witness, she had long experience watching boys fall out for that old cheap trick, but Neville was resisting. He wasn't even look at her, his eyes were glued to the floor.

-You can have this if you want it that much - he handed her a small bag of weed and took y/n by the hand - we were on our way to dance, happy birthday! - he pulled y/n out of the kitchen through the sea of drunk teenagers and into the hall, where a lot of drunk boys have just arrive, screaming and laughing and bumping into things. The party was about to become a mess.

-Nev, I think it's better if-

-Yeah, let's go

They walked back home commenting on the party, Neville was very critical about the music

-Oasis? Can you believe it? Ugh, I'm insulted - y/n couldn't stop laughing, she was a bit tipsy but the thing that got her high was the fact that the boy who was walking with her in the cold darkness had rejected Angie. She couldn't helped, she was mesmerized. But she was also a bit hurt, why would her friend do such thing to her, she must have known she... oh

-FUCK!

-What? Did you forgot something? Are you hurt? What's wrong?

She remained silent, looking at him, he was so stunningly handsome. Her heart twisted again, she couldn't believe it, this was what her friend had tried to show her, that thing she was trying to hide so desperately, the fact that she was actually falling for Neville.

-Nothing, don't worry, Im fine! Really! Damn it's cold isn't it?...uhh let's keep going! Almost there! Are you freezing? Coz I am.

-You sure you are alright?

-Yeah yeah, don't mind me, it's just past bed time.

Neville took and extra glance of her and kept going. Y/n went silent the rest of the walk, lost in her own self conscious thoughts. If she was falling for Neville, what about Fred? How could this possibly be? After all those years pinning for him, when she finally got her must deeply desire in her hands, would she just walk away from him? He was a tosser sometimes, but very good at pleasing her, incredibly talented actually but he was also excellent by getting under her skin. From the moment they got "intimate" they started arguing like never before. It was nonsense and besides, he had been so rude to Neville... Neville? Did she really like him? She turned to look at him, he was walking bedside her, softly humming a tune looking at the trees on the way home, his long nose, his black hair falling on his forehead, the dreamy eyes, the red lips, bunny teeth's slightly showing up and his amazing hands playing with each other as they usually did...she sighed deeply.

***********************************

It was Christmas Eve, Neville was very close to the tree, it was full of multicolor lights and shiny mismatched ornaments and random wrapping paper, handmade small trees, little deer's with red noses, some grandpa's in red velvet pijamas as well as some cute house elf's wearing green hats. None of them moved or dance but they had catchy tunes coming from their plastic belly's. There was definitely a melancholy sort of magic in all of that, it made Neville wonder for the first time in his life how everything could have turn if he wasn't a wizard. If his mom and dad had been muggles and lived as common people in that town, the song coming through the plastic lights in the tree had started to make him weep. Maybe it was because the next day would be the first Christmas away from his mom and dad in the hospital. Y/n approached him.

-Do you wanna lay down?

She was wearing a Beatles t shirt and a black skirt, he spent the whole dinner trying to hide how pleased he was knowing she liked the Beatles.

-What do you mean?

-Come, I'll show you how

She sat beside him and he did the same, then, she pushed herself to be closer to the tree until her head was right below it. He did the same.

They were admiring the little universe inside the decorated branches, looking as high as they could, an immersive exercise that caught their imagination for some time in silence. After a moment, she said

-When I was a kid I cried so much because it was Christmas, I hated it. My parents used to discuss all the time, yelling and cursing, making me choose between them... I never believed in this holiday spirit everyone's talk so much about, for me it was hell. But my grandpa, he, well, one year there was a horrible dinner, mom and dad were screaming so much he went home and rescued me just because I called him. I was crying all the way here and I was ashamed of being such a cry baby, I was nine and I had this specially tragic sensation that my childhood was ending and everything was horrible and hopeless -y/n made a pause, she recovered her breath and laughed a little - my grandpa wasn't an affectionate man, he showed love in that way very few times but that night he did, he holded me and brought me to the tree and taught me this. He said "there is more ways to look at things, even when you think you know all about something, if you change your perspective, you'll find out a new world". I stood in silence down here the rest of the night, imagining that I was 2cm long and this was an extremely tall magic tree I had to climb and all the adventures I'll had, it was so comforting I kept doing it every year.

Neville's throat was a rock, but he managed to say

-You know? There's a forest in California that has the tallest trees in the world, most of them are over 100mts, if we go there you could feel as if you were 2cms tall.

-You can also cast a shrinking spell on me right here and now you know

Neville laughed

-Merlin's cracking knees, I'm such a horrible wizard I didn't even think about it.

-You are not! It's just too much time in the muggle world

-Yes I am, and you know? I wouldn't mind being a muggle, being here, with you, all of this, I never thought it could be this easy not living stressed about every single spell, pronunciation, wand work, keeping my bloody wand safe, my own life safe, all of the trouble wizards go through can be avoided perfectly, I wish I could just relax and press a button to had my light on instead of using a stick that might end setting the room on fire.

-You are definitely not that bad Nev

-I was, and I kept being the worst even when I got better and I wish my grandma and McGonagall and everyone could just give up on me and let me be the hopeless toad I am, they should just turn me into one and throw me in the lake so the giant squid could have me for dessert, it would be a perfectly believed accident and no one would miss me, I bet it would take weeks for someone to notice that I'm gone. My only concern is Trevor but I bet I can convince him to suicide with me, he doesn't look that happy being my pet or a toad anyway.

Y/n was rolling in the carpet, laughing so much her stomach hurts.

-Oh Neville! You have thought about this so much oh my god.

Neville was laughing too, y/n laughter was one of his favorite sounds now, he was really proud of himself for being capable of making her laugh that hard, suddenly he realized he wasn't sad anymore, he was actually quite happy and content, laying down with his best friend, just talking, admiring her features illuminated by the tree lights. She was coming down from her laughter outburst, looking him with shinny dream eyes, a strange tension started building inside Neville's chest. He swallowed hard without breaking eye contact, finally she asked

-So, what do you think about your first muggle party?

-Oh it was cool, I had fun, I like muggles, did you had fun?

-Yeah, yeah, I mean, it's weird

-Weird?

-Well, I don't know, I never really see them anymore, not like I used to, I don't even hang out with Angie as much as before and every time I see them is to catch up... and that's weird

-Catching up is weird?

-Yes, I feel like I already lost them. Like, everytime I see them I got a glimpse of the life I lost. The person I could have been, the friends or relationship I could have had, careers I can't pursue, experiences I'll never know... And I don't really feel entitled to feel bad about it because IM A BLODDY WITCH I mean I do magic! And I've got the chance to be at a magical school in a bloody castle with other witches and wizards and I can do a lot of wicked stuff, so, I know I'm privileged, but deep down I feel like I don't know, like I'm losing something, a part of me I'll never know, a life I'll never had and it's a little disturbing to find out that in this magical world is normal to just forget about all of that and be happy with my second class citizen status and be quiet about this grief I feel for my friends, my family even and my old self.

Neville was bewildered. He had never thought about the wizarding world in that way, he felt like such an idiot.

-We should run away then, I mean, I hate being a wizard, you hate living your life broken in two, so, fuck it.

Y/n grinned at the thought.

-Can you imagine? What would you like to do?

-Well I don't know that much about muggles...OH! I want to go to the record store! Andromeda says that's where she gets the vinyl's she sent me, I don't know where the record store Is tho

-There's plenty of them! We could go to everyone! We could own one! It could be a cafe too, when I was growing up my dream was to own a cafeteria.

-What's that?

-A place where you drink caffeine

-You can only get that sort of thing there? Like an opium bar?

-How do you know about opium bars and not cafeteria's?

-One of the guys at the party was obsessed with going to Berlin to find one and he was on and on about it.

-What?

-Yeah... He was about to tell me about something called LSD but then - Neville's voice went low - I saw you

-Oh, sorry for interrupting - she was speaking softly too, the memory of THAT moment in the kitchen with him was hitting hard, nervousness crawling over her skin, he was looking at her, lost in his thoughts - I'm glad you had fun.

-I did, well I just, I have one complain

-The oasis thing again?

-Nooo, I mean, yes of course but, no it's just that, ugh I expected it to be more dancing - he covered his face with his hands full of embarrassing

-Yeah, you must be the only man I know that likes dancing so much, boys are not really into it.

-I thought It was a wizards thing, I'm really disappointed

-No, unfortunately it's a men thing, sorry.

-Guess I'll have to wait for your granny to wake up so I can have a partner.

-I'm not good enough for you? - y/n was raising an eye brow, she didn't even knew she was capable of that. Was she flirting? Neville's red cheeks were a confirmation, she was actually flirting, damn.

-Would you dance with me? - his throat was dry, he wasn't expecting this conversation ending up that way.

-Of course - how could she dance if her knees were trembling?

-Neville stood up and offered his hand to help her, she noticed his sweaty palms, or were her's? He went to the record collection and choose a record he couldn't stop thinking at dinner. After a moment With the Beatles started playing.

-Oh...- she blushed- you got me.

-I mean it was quite in the nose actually - he pointed at her t-shirt, she laughed while started nerviosly moving - oh common, you can do better than that, I ve seen your moves girl.

-What? When? Where?

-Uhm - he could have slapped himself, why was he bringing that up right now? He didn't wanted to screw up the moment but he carried on carefully - well, that night at the party, you were dancing by yourself to Cocteau twins, I was looking at you, you seemed so carefree and happy, I wanted to dance with you but

-What?

-He got you first.

-Oh

-They went still, an awkward silence filling the air for what seemed an eternity, she was actually really confused about Neville's declaration, the fact that he witnessed everything and the thing that happened after that made her feel so vulnerable...

And then All I've got to do started playing.

-Common, it's a slow one.

Neville took her hand and brought her closer in one single elegant movement and suddenly her arms were around his neck and his on her waist, slowly guiding her to the beat of the song. Looking down at her he softly said

-Sorry for what I said, I didn't mean to hurt you, I know you don't like to think about that night.

-No, don't be, I, well I don't know how to feel about that night but, I just, I guess I was surprised, I didn't knew someone was paying attention.

-I know. Sorry. I feel guilty about it.

-Why?

-Well I wanted to run after you but he beat me to it, maybe if I just had run faster I...

-He didn't forced me you know? I wanted to.

-Yeah, of course - of course she wanted to, of course that wouldn't change anything, Neville was feeling stupid for thinking that any of his actions could have changed the outcome, she liked Fred, not him, that was a fact.

Y/n felt a stone in her stomach, was Neville implying what she thought he was implying? There was a shadow covering his eyes, some sort of sadness she haven't noticed before. She felt the need to hold him tight so she did.

She was up in her tiptoes, even with high boots she barely got to his neck so she rested her head against his collar bones, he held her tightly, his scent filling her every sense, the soft but strong grip he had on her body provoked an involuntary throat sound produced electrical shivers on his collar.

All my loving was coming through in the record player but despite the change of rhythm they didn't pull away. He held her while they played the whole record, dancing at their own pace, singing along until she felt asleep in his arms.

#hp fandom #neville longbottom #fred weasley #neville longbottom x reader #hp #neville longbottom x you #fred weasely x y/n #neville longbottom fluff #Neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom fic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #christmas fanfic

32 notes · View notes