#my first time doing something anything close to a landscape in.... years

[sachart]

There's always time for some mid-war banter

[star-suh]

Into the Wild

Choi Beomgyu x Male Reader

cw: fantasy au, top forest spirit beomgyu, bottom knight reader, some angst, happy ending?, fluffy smut, riding, bareback, nipple play, breeding.

an: there’s mention of blood and guts but just at the beginning.

—

the war of 1000 years was an ongoing conflict between two powerful nations. blood, guts, rusty swords and shields were scattered across the landscape, you could see the destruction caused by it everywhere you looked.

yn was forced to join the army of the white knights, whose purpose was to kill the last ones standing in the battle grounds but little did they know that it was all an ambush made by their rivals. screams and liters of blood filled the ground while a badly injured yn managed to escape. he went deep inside the forest not caring if he gets lost, anything would be better than die by the hands of another evil human. with the remaining strength he has he manages to get closer to a river of fresh water, wanting to drink some of it he crawls, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind him. his fingers mere centimeters away from the running water stopped its movements, yn fainted there. his low breathing indicated he didn’t have much time left, at least he could die in a quiet, peaceful and beautiful landscape…

“AHHHHH” yn woke up screaming and then letting himself fall in what feels like a fluffy cloud, “where am i?” he asks to himself, looking around to what it seems it’s a cozy cabin, with dim lit candles that smell amazing “what’s this place?” he stood up from the bed feeling a stinging pain on the side of his torso, seeing a piece of cloth wrapped around it. “you’re awake” a voice said, coming from another room. yn slowly walks towards there where he finds out a beautiful man with shoulder-length long hair with some highlights to it, wearing a white shirt with his face adorned with a cute blush. he looked so ethereal that yn just stood there with his mouth open “close it or a bug will enter on it” the mysterious man laughs quietly.

“sit there, i made some food”, yn obeyed waiting for the bowl of hot soup the man just prepared, “enjoy” he blurted out while sitting across the table to eat some soup too. “where am i?” yn asked. “my house” he replied, “deep in the forest, no one has ever come near here… except from you” he lifts the spoon towards his mouth while making direct eye contact with yn “you were so injured so i helped you a little”.

“thank you so much” yn thanked, “i thought i would die out there…” he sighed. “that’s what war leaves behind”, the man added. “b-but i didn’t want to” yn quickly replies “i was forced to” sadness and guilt washing over him. “they forced you huh? i’m familiar with that”.

“what do you mean?” yn asked back but the other didn’t answer, “the name’s beomgyu”.

as some way to return the favor yn stayed some days to help beomgyu with some home chores like going to collect some fruits, cutting the woods with an axe that by the way beomgyu could spend hours just looking how yn’s strong arms hold the axe and how the sweat ran down his body ‘so hot’ he thinks.

days turned into weeks and weeks into a month. their relationship went to a friendship to something more serious, the tension was there but none of them wanted to break it until one day, after drinking some fruit wine they got drunk and their emotions came out.

it started with beomgyu’s lips ghosting over yn’s who was desperate to feel the contact, he made the first move, kissing beomgyu with burning passion. he tried to get the dominance but beomgyu took it from him easily. beomgyu swallowed yn’s whimpers, caused by the first playing with his nipples, “it feels so good” he moans “i want more” and beomgyu nodded.

slowly they manage to discard their clothes with their lips still attached to each other “i can’t get enough of this” beomgyu says, “me neither” the other responds.

beomgyu guided yn towards the bed in where they fall and laughed. beomgyu went down while leaving a trail of kisses on yn’s body, every touch from beomgyu feels like a pleasurable burning, something that yn craved and he was getting now. beomgyu puts yn’s shaft on his mouth and sucks it, making sure to not leave a part unsucked. “so good beom” yn whimpers hiding his red face with his forearm. “is this making you feel good?” he asks and yn nods “then tell me if this feels good too” he kissed yn’s balls and buried his tongue on yn’s hole, drawing a surprised grunt from him “shit! it feels amazing” his moans growing louder and constant. after some more sucking beomgyu stand in all fours towering over yn’s quivering body “are you ready?” he asks, saliva smeared around his mouth “yeahh” he says “i want you”.

beomgyu’s shaft slowly opened yn’s walls, “so tight” he grunts, the back and forth movement making yn feel like he was in heaven, in a paradise. yn grabbed beomgyu by the neck and pulled him towards him so they could share another kiss. beomgyu lay down and let yn ride him, his ass wrapping his dick so perfectly, it was like it was made for just him. beomgyu played with his nipples, throwing his head back due to the immense pleasure, it was overwhelming. “if you keep doing that i might come inside you” beomgyu says worriedly in between groans, “then it means i’m doing it the right way” yn cockily replies with a smug smile.

yn hips were moving on his own at this point, he loved the way beomgyu feels inside him, he wants more, it was a pleasure he could not deny to himself. on the other side beomgyu hasn’t feel this way since so long, a mix of emotions clouding his mind. yn moved his hips to met beomgyu’s sloppy thrusts, “please beom i want it in me” yn started to beg and how can one deny that pleasure to such a cute dickrider?. beomgyu hugged him by the waist accelerating his pace, his balls slapping against yn’s ass “fuck yeah” yn smiles, tongue out and eyes rolled back. his dick spurting cum everywhere on the bed and sheets, “it’s my turn now. be ready” few sloppy thrusts later and yn’s gushy hole was filled with thick cum, lots and lots of it filling him up to the brim. “i feel so full” yn tiredly says hugging beomgyu while playing with his long hair. “i haven’t felt this way for so long… thanks yn” beomgyu kisses his forehead and falls asleep too.

war is over finally so yn decides it’s time to go back to his town and let everyone know that he was okay, “wait for me please beom, i’ll be back, i promise”. “it’s ok, i’ll always be here don’t worry” yn said a last goodbye and left but wondering why beomgyu doesn’t live in a town.

everyone that was still alive cheered for yn coming back alive to the town. he then goes to the cemetery to pay a visit to his dead parents, who died because of the war some years ago, a situation that some knight took advantage of to put yn in the white knights rows.in the cemetery was some kind of memorial for the ones who died in the war, yn curiously looked at it when something caught his attention, he felt surprised and sad and ran away.

“beomgyu, beomgyu” he yells when he arrived to the man’s cabin, “what happened?” he said anguished. “you.. you..” he pants unable to form a word. “...so you found it out..” a sad smile creeping over his face, “i was a knight like you before” he starts his explanation “they forced me to join their rows too.. just like you. bastards” tears forming on his and yn’s eyes. “i fought with all my strength but i realized it was pointless, i will die on the battlegrounds anyway” he wipes the single tear that rolled down his face “just like you i escaped towards the forest but the enemies found me and wel” he pauses “they killed me here”. “beom i’m sorry” yn gets closer to him and hugs him, “then are you a ghost?” he curiously asks. “uhm-uhm, so nature force or deity i don’t really know, brought me back to life to guard this forest”. “so this is why you don’t leave in a town”, “that’s right” he laughs trying to put the sad feelings aside, “i’m sorry for not telling you before”, once again yn hugs beomgyu tightly “guess there will be two of us guarding this forest now” he said kissing beomgyu right after, “but what about you yn, you deserve to be happy out there, with people like you” beomgyu worriedly spoke. “i’m happy here, with you. you are my happiness” his dazzling smile making beom’s heart flutter, the blush on his face becoming even redder “you’re so corny” he tries to disguise his shyness, “i know you love it when i’m like that” both laughed while beom hits jokingly the other’s shoulder.

the couple has lived happily since that day, with yn waiting to meet that nature force with the hopes of being turned into a forest spirit and live forever with his loved one.

[iphyslitterator]

"Hi!" Buck calls out when he hears the door open from where he's sprawled sideways on Tommy's couch, engrossed in a book on the history of vaccines. He vaguely hears the door closing and the clatter of Tommy's keys in the dish when he throws them across the foyer instead of taking three steps first.

After a moment his boyfriend appears, unceremoniously crawls onto the couch, and faceplants into Buck's chest with a groan.

Buck smiles as he wraps one arm around Tommy's back. He drops his book on the floor and cards his newly free hand through Tommy's hair, resting his chin on Tommy's head. "Long shift?" he murmurs.

"Mmm," Tommy hums. "Just tired."

They lie there quietly for a while. Tommy's worn brown leather couch is actually long enough to hold them comfortably, even in this position, and broad enough that Buck never has to worry about falling off when he fidgets. It's not the biggest reason he loves Tommy's house, but it's one of the little luxuries, like the house plants and the novelty mugs, that make him feel like he fits.

"What are you thinking about?" Tommy asks, muffled.

"How I'm grateful for your stupidly big couch," Buck says. Tommy chuckles and rolls his head to the side.

"Yeah, me too," he says. "Picked it up at an estate sale a few years ago. Belonged to a couple of men. A couple."

"Fit two guys then, fits two guys now?"

"Something like that," Tommy says.

His voice has that strange raw quality it gets sometimes when he talks about his time in the closet. It must have meant something to him to buy a couch where a gay couple spent time together, cuddled, maybe fucked. Buck turns it over in his mind. A few years could mean anything from two to fifteen with Tommy.

"Did you get anything else?" he asks.

"Yeah, actually," Tommy says. "Here, hold on." He levers himself off Buck with a grunt and heads to his bedroom. Buck stretches and sits up.

"I never got around to fixing it," Tommy's saying when he reappears, something small in his hands. "Probably should someday. But it had my name on it," he says with a smile, and the light bulb goes off even before Tommy hands him the watch and Buck turns it over to see the engraving: To Thomas • My love • My partner • My friend

Buck looks up, and Tommy seems taken aback by the shock on his face. "Where did you get this?"

"At an estate-"

"Their names, what were their names?"

"Well, one of them was named Thomas." Buck just keeps looking at him urgently, and Tommy adds more seriously, "Evan, I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"Was it a big house in Hollywood Hills West?" Buck asks. "Nice gate, lots of landscaping, lots of windows?"

"Yeah," Tommy says slowly. "It was."

"I was with them when they died," Buck says, and Tommy's eyes widen. "We were on a call, one of them, Mitchell, was crushed by their car, it was awful. And, and I was talking to the other one, Thomas, before he lay down and just, died, with his husband. They wanted to go together." Buck's eyes are stinging, and Tommy's kneeling with a hand cupped against his cheek. "I told him I hoped I'd find something that good."

Tommy strokes Buck's cheekbone with his thumb, wiping away a tear. Gently, Tommy takes the watch out of his hands and fastens it around Buck's wrist.

"Do you think you will?" he asks quietly, eyes lowered.

The watch is tight, grounding, even with the lump in his throat. "He said you don't find it, you make it."

Tommy looks up and slides his hands to cradle Buck's in both of his. "Do you think you will?" he asks again.

There's a wry smile tucked in the corner of Tommy's mouth but vulnerability in his eyes. His hands are big and warm, his hugs are nearly bruising when Buck wants it, the lines next to his eyes are so deep Buck can run his fingers along them when he's smiling, when he's sleeping. He's Buck's partner. His couch is big enough for both of them.

"Yeah," Buck says. "I do."

[pedropascallme]

The Weather Ain't Been Bad

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, Damien is a biter but we knew that, lots of begging and even more praise, Damien likes getting his hair pulled but we knew that. If I missed anything please let me know!

“You look dumb.”

“I’ll literally—look at me, look at me. Shut up.”

You listened to Shayne and Angela argue in the back seat, their back and forth had started as a game of I-spy and quickly devolved into improvised insults on hour one of the drive after a patch of traffic resulted in a lack of things to spy.

“Literally nothing you say could ever affect me I don’t care about anything you have to say to me.” Shayne deadpanned and you heard Angela let out a shrill sound as she tried to climb out of her seatbelt to punch him in the arm.

“Hey, you know what would actually be really fun?” Damien, driving, looked back at them through the rearview mirror, “If you guys would, uh, shut the hell up?”

You laughed quietly; head propped up on the window as you watched the California landscape go from dusty highway to snowcapped trees. Hours long car ride aside, you were happy to be making the trip. It had never occurred to you that upon Anthony’s return to the company there would be a renaissance of Smosh content that didn’t have to do with the main channel, but when they announced the return of the Winter Games you felt a swell of joy—it was nice to be part of something that went back so many years and still continued to entertain the masses, especially when that something made you feel a cathartic sort of nostalgia.

And now, sitting in the front seat and listening to your friends threaten each other in increasingly ridiculous ways, watching Damien’s hand on the steering wheel, it went beyond simple nostalgia: It was pure ecstasy. The low hum of music on the radio paired nicely with the long road ahead, and you leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

You felt a hand on your knee, giving you a short squeeze. You opened your eyes, grabbing Damien’s hand and squeezing him back.

“What?” You playfully pushed his hand back towards his body, and he gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re my GPS, you can’t fall asleep.”

“I could navigate!” Angela leaned forward, elbows on the center console.

“You—you would get us lost in your own house, you psycho.” Amanda piped up for the first time in several minutes, placing a hand gingerly on Angela’s shoulder and laughing.

“Hey!” Angela turned her attention away from the front seat, pushing against Shayne, who had started laughing at her expense once more.

Damien glanced at you from his peripheral, as if to silently lament about your friends in the back seat, and you glanced back, smiling.

You appreciated the moments you got to spend with Damien. It wasn’t like they were rare; since you’d joined the cast, he was always someone you’d found a sort of reliability in, and a shared sense of humor went a long way. He was always a beacon of tranquility amongst the chaos of the office. He could be just as rowdy as everybody else—and often was—but he was always able to weed out when somebody needed a moment to recalibrate, and it felt like he knew what you needed before even you did sometimes. But he seemed to have that effect on most everybody, and you didn’t want to push too hard for something that might not be there, despite how happy you were to feel his hand on your back when he guided you through crowded spaces, or to hear him say your name in that faux-crestfallen way when you cheated in cards.

He turned his gaze back to the road, and you found yourself leaning against the window again, passively looking at his reflection in the trees that darted by, and thinking things that you decided should remain unsaid.

~~~

The house was gigantic, and even that was putting it lightly.

In theory, you recognized that you worked for a multi-million-dollar company, but it was more than a little weird to be standing in the doorway of a house big enough to hold at least 20 copies of your own apartment inside of it.

But you understood the want to splurge; it had been years since the last Winter Games, and even longer still since there had been a Games with Anthony. It was exciting, and even before you had gotten to the cabin-style mansion, there had been a buzz in the air; cast and crew alike vibrating in anticipation of a vacation-like period where things would be more akin to camp than to work.

Filming started immediately, and you barely had time to think about what exactly was happening before you were back in front of a camera.

Shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the cast, Ian and Anthony made picks for their respective teams; it was easy to forget that you were in a new space—it was like you’d never left the office, still in good company and laughing until your cheeks hurt. You donned the bright blue shirt that had been handed to you, and wondered how many raunchy, snow-related jokes you’d have to hear over the next week.

“Be honest with me,” you put the shirt on over the one you were already wearing, joining the side of the room with the rest of your teammates, “Are we gonna lose?”

Damien laughed, “With that attitude? Probably.”

Maybe the best part of the trip was the fact that this year marked the first time that everybody got their own room. You’d heard the stories—not that they were all that bad, but it was nice to know that even when surrounded by your friends for two weeks, you’d still be able to duck out for some private time in your own space.

Except that your room was freezing.

You hadn’t noticed it upon your arrival, coat still zipped up and adrenaline on high, but once you had showered and readied yourself for bed, you recognized the deep, unwelcome chill in your bones. The source evaded you; the windows were closed, the ceiling fan was completely still—it was a frustrating end to a long day.

You gave up, putting on a heavier sweatshirt and deciding that locating the source of the frigid air was a problem for tomorrow. There had to be extra blankets somewhere, and you tried to recall whether there had been any on the couches downstairs. Even if there weren’t, getting out of your room and regaining a little feeling in your fingers sounded appealing.

You quietly exited your bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you shifted your weight awkwardly from side to side to avoid any sudden creaks from the old wood. The house was silent—save for the wind outside that howled against the windows every few moments—and you didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.

“I’m sorry—did I scare you?” The familiar sound of timely apologies, whispered from across the room. You felt your heart settle. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Damien,” you took measured breaths, “scared me.”

“Sorry,” his voice was low. He stood behind the kitchen island, hair messy, and it was clear he was struggling to sleep as much as you were.

“It’s ok,” you walked towards where he was standing, leaning over the island to grab at his arm reassuringly before letting go; his skin was warm against your palm, and even in the dark of the room you were unable to tear your eyes from him. “I didn’t think anybody else was up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not by choice,” he sighed, “my room is a sauna.”

“You’ve got your own room, you couldn’t just strip down?” You raised your eyebrows, teasing him, trying not to think about how he might look spread out on his bed with nothing on.

“There are only so many layers I can take off until it’s, like, my skin,” he smiled, and you broke out into a quiet laugh.

“Well, my room is freezing, so,” you collected yourself a little, “I came down looking for more blankets, but if you wanted to switch…”

“Is the window open?” He furrowed his brow, seemingly concerned by your discomfort.

“Not even a crack,” you clarified, “Your room sounds like a dream to me right now.”

You didn’t realize how it sounded until he let out a snort, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You know what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, and he reached over the counter to brush his hand against yours in a gesture of peace.

You stood quietly together, enjoying each other’s company and the calm of the house. You let your hand remain under his on the granite, and he didn’t make any moves to separate from you.

“Thanks for being a good sport about navigating,” Damien ran his other hand over his face, tired after the seemingly endless day. “I know it probably wasn’t your first choice.”

“Yeah, well. You better thank God we’re on the same team, otherwise I’d use 'competitive determination' as an excuse to get back at you for keeping me up." You shot back jovially, “But, you know…it was nice to help you out.” You paused. “I liked it, actually.”

He shot you a small smile, which you returned, and the two of you let silence fall again.

“How about I see if I can find the source of whatever it is that’s making you so cold?” He tilted his head, sincerely offering to help you, and you could never say no to an offer like that.

You could never say no to Damien.

“That would be nice.” You curled your pinky into the palm of his hand before turning to lead him to your room.

You were friends, always had been upon your entrance into the company; he was an undeniably important presence in your life for that very reason—he was there. He was always there when you needed him. He was supportive and kind and stupidly funny, and, yeah, incredibly attractive. But that didn’t mean it had to be something more. Just because you looked forward to the days he came into work with dark stubble that contrasted with the silver of his hair, just because you forgot the rules to certain games sometimes because you were too focused on the way his sleeves fit around his arms, just because you loved the way his eyes trailed over your face when you told him a story and he got just as animated as you did—it didn’t have to be anything more than friendship.

But realistically, despite your insistence to your friends and to yourself that you considered Damien a great, strictly-platonic friend and nothing more, you knew what you really wanted.

You knew you wanted more.

And despite the innocent context under which you were bringing him up to your room, there was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through your chest while he trailed behind you.

“Jesus,” he pushed his shoulders back upon opening the door to your room, goosebumps pricking his skin. “Some weather we’re having.”

“I told you,” you pushed past him, kicking a stray pair of socks into the corner. “You still think you can fix it?”

“They actually call me Damien “Fix-It” Haas,” he cracked his knuckles, “Don’t look into it.”

You smiled, shaking your head, spreading your arms out to signal that he could poke around freely.

It took him approximately ten seconds to locate the thermostat behind a curtain.

“Are you serious?” You kicked yourself for missing what should’ve been so obvious.

“I’m Damien,” he went straight-faced, “And this says sixty-five degrees—how are you not frozen solid?”

“Pure will.” Your head fell back in exasperation, “How did I miss that?”

“You’re tired,” he softened, “It’s been a long day, y’know, and I bet a lot of people are too dumb to look behind curtains—”

You cut him off with a curt but soft shove to his chest, and he grabbed your hands after they made impact, both of you semi-delirious from lack of sleep and falling into a fit of giggles. He removed one of his hands from you, leaning back to change the thermostat.

“It’ll heat up eventually,” he started, “What number do you want it at?”

“Warm.”

“So, that is not a number,” he smiled at you, “I’ll put it in the seventies.”

“Thank you,” you wriggled free of the grasp he still had on your wrist, “My hero.”

You stood facing each other for a moment, neither of you ready to part for some reason.

“I should go to sleep,” you finally spoke.

“Yeah.” He agreed, voice sounding raspier than it had before. He started to walk towards the door while you leaned back onto the pillows on the bed.

“Damien,” you didn’t know what you were doing, or if you should be doing it, but it felt only logical in the moment, “Stay.”

You watched him freeze in place, turning back to look at you.

“I mean…if your room is uncomfortable to sleep in—what, are you gonna sleep on the couch?” You continued, rambling to find reasoning behind your sudden offer, “You can just stay here tonight.”

“Seriously?” He scanned your features, trying to figure out if you were serious or if this was just a joke that he hadn’t caught onto yet.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that you have to spend the night in discomfort. Especially after you fixed the temperature in here.” You felt a red heat rising in your ears, but you soldiered on, still waiting for a yes or no. You watched as he turned to walk towards the door again, and your heart sank a little, before he closed the door in front of him and walked back to you.

“One hell of a sleepover—one bed, no snacks, and you don’t even have a Wii,” He feigned disappointment.

“But I hear when mom goes to sleep, they bring out Kevin’s mom.” You smiled, digging your heels into the comforter, and he laughed at the callback.

He sat on the mattress, leaning back on the pillows with you, and you used it as an excuse to angle yourself towards him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“I can sleep on the floor. If you want…” He whispered, and you felt his fingers trail up your own hand.

“No,” you turned to look at him, still on your back but suddenly very aware of the proximity to which you were lying next to each other, letting him continue to run his hand along your arm. “It’s still cold in here.”

“I can turn the heat up—”

You watched as he traced the curve of your elbow with his finger before letting it fall back to your hand, “Damien, stop being a gentleman. Just share the bed with me.”

“Ok.” He stopped moving, gaze falling on you and swallowing shallowly. You laced your fingers with his. You were certain he could see your heart beating through your ribcage, or at the very least he could see the way your pulse bounced in your wrist. “Yeah, ok.”

You didn’t undress, didn’t even get under the covers, but something felt so intimate; a shift in the air. Maybe it was the new warmth that permeated throughout the room, but it was different, in the best way.

It felt like more.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even graze your back when you turned over to get comfortable. But you felt his breath on the back of your head, rustling your hair and drifting over the back of your neck.

Your eyes stayed open, unable to let sleep take hold despite the tranquility; the moon bounced off the snow and caused a dim light to trickle through the window, and you were wide awake.

You shifted again, turning back over to face Damien. His eyes were closed, and you watched the subtle movements of his body, chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep.” He whispered, and you bit your tongue, unsure of what to say. Busted. He opened one eye and broke into a small smile. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You whispered back, nearly letting the sound of the wind outside drown you out.

“I could take you,” he propped himself up on his arm.

“Is that a challenge or a blanket statement?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because I wasn’t going to murder you, but those are fighting words.”

“What do you think?” He was goading you now, waiting to see if you’d back down from whatever this was, if there was a line you were going to draw.

“I think I could kick your ass.” You sat up on your knees.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, skeptical. You couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t tell what this was, or what would happen if you crossed the physical boundary into his space.

You threw caution to the wind for the second time within the hour. 

You launched yourself towards him, and he let his arm fall to the side, lying on his back as you clambered to straddle him. Grabbing his wrists, you pulled his hands above his head, letting out a small huff of victory.

You couldn’t recall a time where you’d ever been this close to Damien before. There was a pool of heat in your stomach that you tried to write off as a burst of energy—adrenaline hitting in the middle of the night—while you rationalized being in this position with him. With your friend. It was just wrestling; a playful act among companions. You’d seen people do it all the time in the office. Courtney put Spencer in a headlock the other day—you’d seen her do it to Ian the day before that. It was fine. It wasn’t anything other than roughhousing.

It didn’t have to be anything more.

“I told you.” You gloated.

“I was in a vulnerable position. This is hardly what I would call a fair fight.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m being a sore loser?” He smiled, all teeth, and you were about to respond, tell him that you had won, fair and square, and that if he wanted to lose again, you’d grant him the rematch he clearly wanted so desperately.

Instead, he flipped you onto your back, knee between your legs and one hand pinning your wrists above your head just as you had done to him.

“Never let your guard down,” He laughed, and you bit back a smile.

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s what a sore loser would say.” He taunted, and you thought you felt his grip tighten around your wrists.

You looked up at him, unsure where to go from here.

Surely, you’d separate, turn over and away from each other, fall asleep, and then act like nothing was different tomorrow—because nothing was different. Nothing had changed. This was nothing.

But you liked the way he looked like this; his knee caught between the V of your own legs, the muscles in his arm tense from the grip he had on you, his other hand planted on the bed at your side, just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of it. You watched him swallow.

“Tell me to let go,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to let go and I will.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t make a sound. All you could do was stare up at him, before you reminded yourself to speak, to say anything, to finally reveal what it was you wanted.

“Kiss me.” You were worried he wouldn’t hear it over the wind, words coming out small and breathy, but you saw the way the muscle in his jaw clicked.

He was on you instantly, colliding with you in a frenzied kiss. He let go of your wrists, and your hands came down to trail over his back, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. He bit at your bottom lip, and the sharp sting was counteracted quickly by the way his tongue darted over it, exploring you while you whined underneath him. He licked into your mouth, and you sucked at his tongue before letting his exploration continue, your hands reaching under the back of his shirt in an attempt to get closer, to let him suffocate you with his attention.

He pulled back, lips pink and cheeks blushed, his hand coming to hold your jaw and encourage you to open wider. He spit into your open mouth, before pushing on your jaw, encouraging you to close it. You did, swallowing his offering before opening your mouth again, sticking out your tongue as proof of your deed.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand still on your face when he reconnected his mouth to yours. It was needier now; sloppy and wet, and you could taste him perfectly like this, your spit mingling with his, licking into his mouth to get as much of him as you could.

He trailed down your body, leaving kisses on any skin available to him. The collar of your shirt exposed your clavicle, and he bit into the skin around it, sinking his teeth into you just enough for red marks to appear, before sucking a bruise onto the skin of the bone.

“Camera,” you reminded him haphazardly, “Nothing the camera can see—” You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling hard to ensure he listened to your warning, and he groaned at the pressure, removing his mouth from you.

“Right,” He was breathing hard, thumb rubbing circles on the bruise he had just made, low enough on your chest that your shirt would cover it—a secret between the two of you. He leaned back down, lips wrapping around the pulse point below your ear and peppering gentle kisses on it. You ground your hips onto him, his knee still planted between your thighs, stabilizing his position, and you felt the fabric of your pajamas catch perfectly on your clit, letting out a soft moan.

Damien watched, lips parted, as you bucked your hips against his thigh; some area of his brain wanted to let you continue, let you bring yourself to the edge by using him like this, but that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted so desperately to be the one making you cum; he wanted to make you fall apart, wanted to see how pretty you looked when he was making you feel good.

He moved his leg, effectively straddling you, and you let out a whimper of discontent, disappointed by the sudden loss of friction when you had been so close to what you needed.

“I know, baby,” his voice was cloying, clearly finding your whines enticing in a twisted sort of way; call it sadistic, but he didn’t want you putting in any work—he wanted to be in charge of all your pleasure. “I’ll let you finish, I promise,” he licked a stripe up your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“Want your mouth,” you were quick to answer.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, I want your mouth on me Damien—please.”

“You want my mouth?” He nipped at your jawline, “Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

You nodded, entranced by how devious he looked, pupils blown out, swallowing the moon’s reflection, silver hair messy from being pulled on and falling over his eyes, skin flushed pink; you were absolutely overcome with need watching him at his most primal.

He moved further down your body, situating himself between your legs and tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajamas; you lifted your hips when he began to pull the fabric off of you, slowly, and you tried in vain to push your pants off faster.

“Uh-uh,” he moved his hands to cover yours, “be patient.”

You removed your hands from the flannel waistband, placing them over your chest and trying to crane your neck to watch him. It felt like an eternity before he finally let the fabric pool around your ankles, sliding them off with help from you kicking gently against the air. If ever there was a time to be thankful that you didn’t sleep in underwear, it would be now.

Moving back towards your core, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, still concentrated on making you comfortable even while most of his focus was on your naked cunt.

“Do you always get wet this quickly?” He let you hook your knee behind his head, looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shut up,” you felt suddenly embarrassed, as if it was only now, with his breath fanning your spread legs, that he had become suspicious of your attraction to him.

“That’s a no, then?” He smirked and your embarrassment dissipated when you saw the prideful smile.

Damien’s eyes shifted then from your face to your inner thigh, turning his head to suck marks on it just as he had on your neckline. He bit into the supple flesh, just hard enough to leave an outline of his teeth, before kissing bruises onto the same spots. You let out a contented sigh, and he squeezed your other thigh before turning his head again to repeat the process on that side. Licking stripes up your legs and into the joint of your thigh, he stopped short of where you wanted him, letting out a hum every time you exhaled in frustration at the lack of attention your cunt was getting.

He liked riling you up, seeing your brow furrow and your cheeks redden in frustration at not getting what you had asked for.

He relented when you started whispering pleas of his name, hand buried in his hair and pulling gently at the roots for him to use his mouth on you like he had said he would. You gasped at the contact of his tongue on your clit, the way he flattened the muscle to slide over you before moving it in slow circles over your bud. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, holding them over his shoulders and pulling you closer to him when he finally started licking circles around your hole.

“Fuck—fuck!” you couldn’t get another word out, too focused on the way he dove into you and lapped up your slick. He was messy but masterful, letting your juices and his spit trail down over the curve of your ass while making your back arch off the mattress, hand still in his hair and unsure of whether you wanted to push him down further or pull him off due to the overwhelming sensation.

The sounds were pornographic, wet and filthy, and when you pulled harder on his hair he let out a low growl that displayed his pleasure while heightening your own.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned into you, spitting onto your dripping cunt before indulging once more in your taste. You became aware of the way his hips ground into the mattress with every flick of his tongue and every mewl you let out. “Cum for me like this, baby, can you do that? Let me taste it?”

You threw your head back at his words, pressure building in your stomach at the way he clearly got so much enjoyment from making you feel good, paired with the way his teeth grazed your clit, sucking on you until you saw stars and then pulling away to do it again. One of his hands fell from your leg, and he brought it to your cunt, spitting once before pushing two fingers in. You squirmed, moaning, as he curled them towards him and fluttered them over the spongy spot inside of you. He dragged his tongue over your clit one more time, and you were catapulted over the edge, dizzy with lust, pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Damien moved back up the bed, hugging you to him while you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm, muttering words of praise.

“Did so fucking good,” he kissed the top of your head, “Such a good girl—was that ok? Are you alright?” His thumb ran over your cheek, and he dipped his head down to leave kisses in its wake.

You let out a shaky breath, adjusting your position to throw your leg over his side before wrapping your arms around him to pull him down for a kiss.

“So good.” You muttered, tasting yourself on his lips. You rolled your hips against his lazily, reaching down to trail your hand over his evident bulge. “More.”

“Yeah?” He groaned, taking in the way your hand felt on his clothed cock.

“Please.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

He reconnected his lips to yours, moving slowly and swallowing your sounds.

“You want me like this?” He whispered, hands sweeping over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you into the mattress?”

Your hips bucked on their own accord, and you nodded feverishly. He sat up, pulling you up after him, and reached under the hem of your shirt to help you remove it. He got distracted by the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts and the way you looked at him expectantly.

“You’re so pretty,” he almost laughed, absolutely delighted by you, as he leaned down to suck a bruise on the valley between your breasts. He nipped at the pillowy skin, teeth skimming your nipple when he took it into his mouth, barely putting pressure on it until your hand flew to his hair in a gesture to make him continue, to give you more. You whimpered, sitting on your knees with his face pressed against your chest.

He stood up, removing his shirt quickly before untying the cord of his pants.

“There’s really nothing sexier than a man in pajama bottoms,” he made a face as he fumbled with the knot of the string, finally undoing it with a sharp tug.

“I’d have to agree.” You shot him a smug look and he shook his head, smiling. He situated himself back on the mattress, pushing you onto your back and kissing your neck. You let out a quiet yelp when you landed on the pillows, laughing softly. You still felt dizzy, the entire situation leaving you completely shocked but admittedly thrilled, and when you saw him looking down at you, you felt words leave your mouth before you could filter them.

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Damien smiled again, kissing your forehead before dipping down to trail kisses over your jaw. “Me too.”

“So, uh,” You let your hand wander down his body, stopping at the base of his cock and teasing your fingers around it, “You gonna fuck me into the mattress now?”

He grabbed your hand, and in a parallel to the situation that got you here, pinned it above your head.

“Is that what you want?” His pupils swallowed his irises, giving him the appearance of someone completely lost in desire. It made you greedy for more.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“No. The whole thing. Say it.”

“I want…” You felt dirty saying it out loud, and that was half the appeal, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

“That’s right. You gonna beg for it?”

You liked him like this, so cocky and domineering. It made you feel breathless, head swimming with what was to come. Dominance looked good on him.

“Please, Damien,” you swallowed, squirming slightly in anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He practically scoffed, “Beg.”

“Fuck me, please,” you felt yourself growing frustrated, and you could feel your heart beating in your cunt. “I was so good—I’ve been so good, please, I’ll take what you give me I promise just—please, please fuck me.”

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your wrist fisted his cock, and you tilted your head to watch him stroke himself while he lined up with your entrance. You whined, hoping that maybe it would make him move faster.

“What did I say about being patient?” He chided, and your head fell back onto the pillows.

“Please, Damien.” You couldn’t have hidden your eagerness if you tried.

“One more time.” You felt the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and nudging your entrance.

“Please—yes!” You gasped when he pushed his hips forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the way he filled you completely in one stroke.

“Good girl.” He grabbed your other hand, now pinning both your wrists down over your head, giving him a full view of your body underneath him. “You feel good? Worth the wait?”

You nodded your head, mouth open and eyes wide, mesmerized by the stretch and the feeling of him seated deep inside of you.

“Tell me—use your words,” His own patience was wearing thin, and you could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Feels so good, Damien,” you nodded again, “Move—fuck me, please.”

He exhaled, content with your answer and subsequent request. He drew his hips back far enough to nearly pull out of you, before slamming back against you and bottoming out completely. You let out a moan, and his free hand covered your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, baby” he whispered.

You nodded underneath his hand, remembering all the other people in the house, and he pulled it away from your mouth before pushing two fingers through your lips.

“That’ll keep you busy, right?” He smiled and you moaned softly around his fingers, tongue circling them behind your lips.

Damien copied his initial sharp thrust, pushing into you with enough force to move you up the bed repeatedly, watching the way your breasts bounced with the movement. Letting go of your hands briefly, he brought one of your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the position, and you whimpered around the fingers in your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. Sound so pretty, baby” he groaned, grinding his hips against you to get a feel for how deep he was inside of you, “So pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He took his fingers from your mouth, toying with your nipples and using the residual spit to lubricate his movements. His other hand left your wrists, focused now on holding himself above you while he drove in and out of you.

You squirmed under him, overstimulated and needy, and your newly freed hands grabbed at whatever they could hold onto; one gripping his arm, nails leaving crescents in his skin, while the other fisted the sheets, and Damien took note of the way your face contorted when his thrusts became rougher.

“You like that?” His voice was as kind as it usually was, but with an edge to it now, driving into you hard. “That feel good, baby?”

Your moans were increasingly high-pitched, and all you could offer was a jumble of reassuring whines. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips meeting for a feverish, passionate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, keeping it between his teeth and tugging at it, before letting his tongue push forward into your mouth.

You moaned into him, his cock pushing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back, silently begging for more, and he followed your unspoken instructions, fingers finding your clit between your bodies and kneading tight circles over it.

You let out a ragged cry of his name, cunt squeezing around him as you came; he pulled you into him, arm wrapping under your body, to kiss you fervidly, groaning at how you felt clenching so tightly around him.

“That’s right, baby, cum for me,” he fucked you through your high; long, deep strokes at a much slower pace bringing you back down to earth, “Good fucking girl.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, drowsy and overstimulated, happy to be enveloped by him.

“Where do you want me, baby?” His thrusts picking back up slightly, eager for his own release.

“Anywhere you want,” you kissed up the side of his neck, whining at the feel of his cock as he dragged his hips back before sinking back into you, “Wanna make you cum, please.” You rubbed your cheek against his, the friction from his short stubble soothing you.

“You want me to cum for you?” Even now, he kept teasing, “My good girl wants me to cum for her? So fucking greedy.”

You whined, wordlessly, trying to move your hips to match his thrusts, intent on pleasing him the way he had you.

“Spit,” he offered you his hand, and you licked his palm before spitting into it.

He squeezed you tight, using the arm still underneath you to lift you up slightly and get a few last thrusts in as deep as he could manage. Upon pulling out, he fucked his fist with the hand you had prepared for him, spilling over your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, and the thought of his cum mingling with your own between your legs.

Breathing heavy and uneven, Damien took a moment to collect himself. He leaned over the side of the bed, finding his discarded shirt and grabbing it; he wiped between your legs, careful to go slow and gentle over your more sensitive spots. He threw the shirt back over the side of the bed when he deemed you properly cleaned up.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, nuzzling into his side.

He hummed, kissing your head and moving stray hairs from your face. “Was that…it wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Damien,” you looked up at him incredulously, “It was perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

“The perfect amount of rough.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I wanted to make you cum?”

“Well—mm. Kinda gathered that that was the truth. No, I mean, when you said you’ve wanted this…for a while.”

“Of course I meant it.” You fidgeted with the fingers he had draped around your shoulder. “Did you mean it when you—”

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“What were you going to ask?” He quipped.

“Now I’m not telling you.” You rolled your eyes, playfully turning away from him. Damien used the hand he had on your shoulder as leverage to pull you back against him, and you landed against his chest.

“Did I mean it when I said I wanted this, too?” He finished your question for you, “Yeah. I meant it. One hundred percent, I did.” He pressed his cheek against the crown of your head, “Was worried that wanting more was a, I dunno, like a…thought it would make you uncomfortable. So, I just—not that I don’t like being your friend—but I tried to behave myself. Y’know? Even though...” His gaze flicked over your face, "I always wanted more."

“Is this where you tell me that you orchestrated this whole thing by turning down the heat in here?” You joked, tired and satisfied and so utterly content that he, too, wanted more than the friendship you had cultivated with one another—thrilled that you had been on the same page all along; the initial paranoia over the implications of being attracted to the other, and now basking in the relief that your affection was mutual.

“I’m flattered that you think I have that kind of forethought. But no,” he laughed. “Just got lucky.”

“In so many respects.” You giggled, listening to his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” He held you tighter, as if a loose grip would cause you to slip away from him.

“Thanks for staying.”

[tw1l1te]

𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖘𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔- 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔

ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

“Oh, I like her already.” Wars speaks. The Vet just seems to roll his eyes, muttering something about the Captain’s ego.

You rise back into a standing position, eyeing the group again. You look back up at Time, stating, “I presume you’re the Hero of Time, based off of your moniker.”

“You would be correct, although hardly anyone calls me by that title.”

You hum at his comment, finding his humble nature pleasing. Turning to the one named Sky, you motion your hand at him, “And you must be the Hero of the Skies, or the Chosen One. The first of us, if we go by technicalities.”

He nods hesitantly, curious as to where you got all of this information about them. He would’ve been more uneasy if you weren’t a descendant, but you were one of them, after all.

“Why… do you call yourself the Forgotten Hero?” he asks.

You smile solemnly at him, “Because this era has been doomed. Utterly and completely in decay. By the time my quest is done, Hyrule, or what remains of it will collapse and rebuild itself over thousands of years. I will be too hidden in the past to be remembered.”

You take a small breath before continuing, admitting the truth out loud.

“I will also be forgotten because I’m not you, or your descendants. I’m not the traditional male hero. Quite the anomaly, aren’t I?”

He seems conflicted by your statement, eyebrows furrowing together.

“But if you’re the only female so far, wouldn’t that make you more memorable? The heroine of Hyrule?”

“Maybe in another life, but not this one. I’m considered a disgrace of a hero by most people outside of my village and a few others spanned across the land.”

“Why would you say that? Didn’t you save everyone from destruction?”

You smile sadly, “The destruction happened years before I was born. If anything, I caused more of it.”

He takes a moment to think before asking the inevitable question.

“Link… who exactly did you defeat?”

Your eyes snap back up at him, making sure he was looking right at you. The information you were about to reveal was going to create the rift of the ages. It was now or never.

“Hylia.”

~

The room was silent for a few minutes, the only sound being heard was the loud blizzard beyond the splintered walls of the shack. The loud silence made you wish the shack would finally collapse in on itself.

Sky finally speaks, eyes glued to you. 

“W-what do you mean by that? You’re saying she caused all of this?”

You sighed, knowing he was one of the more… innocent followers of her. 

“Well, a few thousand years after the Era of the Wilds, there started to be a lot of… religious issues surrounding Hylia. A lot of questionable and downright disgusting practices. It caused people to start grouping up and separating, causing the nations of Hyrule to close off from each other.”

Looking around the group, you take a moment to let them process the new information before continuing.

“The Rito, Zora, Gorons, Gerudo, Sheikah, and Hylians all started to conflict more and more, eventually ascending into a 50-year war, or the Reawakening. The followers of Hylia formulated a plan to resurrect her in the flesh, killing Zelda in the process.”

“A life for a life.” Time muttered, deep in thought.

“Exactly. The plan was successful, the goddess being reawoken after millennias of being dead. She came back… unrecognizable, both physically and in an ideological sense. Her morality and character had been altered so much to the point of her followers becoming a cult. The cult killed my parents, thousands of people that questioned Hylia, essentially wiping out most of the kingdom.”

“And the land? How did it come to be so… bleak?”

“Hylia is the Sun, both literally and metaphorically. The sun is technically up beyond the clouds, but the amount of destruction and chaos she brought forth made the landscape unrestorable. The entirety of Hyrule looks just like this,” you motioned out with your hand.

“Hyrule is also significantly bigger than any of yours. Probably still larger than if you were to combine the size of each of your era’s Hyrule’s. It has been a cold, snowy abyss for over 30 years now.”

The brunette piqued up, head tilting slightly, “So where is Hylia now? Hyrule Castle?”

You shake your head.

“Hyrule Castle is in utter ruins now, most use it to scavenge for rock or old weapons. I’m… not sure where she is right now, I'm trying to track her down.”

“Didn’t you say you killed her?” the Veteran asked.

“I did but… her psyche is still present. She may not have a physical body anymore, as I returned it back to its dormant state, permanently, but her essence is somewhere. Everywhere.”

Time walks up to you, arms crossed over his chest. Curse your short stature, compared to his at least.

“From what you're telling us, it seems that we were brought here to help you. We came here through a portal, and from what we’ve learned, we can’t leave an era unless we’ve completed the task at hand, regardless of our own opinions or standing on the matter.”

“What were your original plans before being brought here?” you ask.

“The Shadow and his army. It took us months to finally pin him down and defeat him.”

You remember something being mentioned in the archives about a dark version of Link, but only being a mere shadow. Now a physical form? That was something you didn’t experience in your own journey. Lucky you, you suppose.

“Right now Hyrule is… in limbo, I suppose. Hylia’s first form was defeated about a year ago and we’ve tried to track her essence down since. We don’t know if she’s using someone as a vessel or if she’s resting in some sacred grounds to gather strength. Granted, the blizzards have made it significantly harder to even make it past the woods.”

Four, one of the shortest and most colorful of the Link’s speaks.

“So where exactly are we, based off of older maps?”

You ponder for a moment, trying to recollect exactly what town you could use to reference the location you were in. Something that was familiar to them.

“If I were to use my ancestor’s typography maps,” pointing to Wild, “I’d say we’re in the location of the Great Plateau. The plateau collapsed in on itself thousands of years ago and grew thick forest and brush, impenetrable if you were inexperienced with the outside world.”

You take a pause before continuing.

“Though if I were to be more accurate and precise… this would be almost the exact location of Ordon Village from the Era of Twilight.”

Twilight perks up at that, intrigued by your expertise and knowledge of their past eras. 

“How do you know that name?”

“Ordon?”

He nods.

You were revealing way too much about yourself within hours of meeting your ancestors. This is definitely not what you had planned.

Sighing, you reveal another ability you had kept concealed.

“I have the memories of every hero before me. I can see and dream of their travels, their fears, desires, secrets, everything. Even their own thoughts, at times.”

Twilight’s brow furrows, confusion emulating off his features.

“Isn’t that only what the goddess reincarnated can do? How can a holder of the Triforce of Courage accomplish that?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that it started when I was seven and I have them almost every day, multiple times a day.”

Time bristles at the age it started for you: seven.

…

He was the youngest hero to start his journey.

Of course, it made sense.

The memories of the hero began as soon as his purpose was ignited.

He was going to speak again, but you beat him to it, mentioning something about supper and needing to attend to some matters.

“Once you’re fed, I’ll come find you and find you a shack to board in. It will most likely be mine, as the village is full enough as it is. Dusk and Colin will show you around a bit, let them know if you need anything.”

With that, you bundle the scarf over your face again and leave through the front door, not looking back behind you.

“...You think they saw that time I rode on a bear in just my undergarments?”

“Definitely.”

ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 16 - Size Difference.

Erwin Smith x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/n: H/L/N = husband’s last name.

This is also a repost.

Summary: you rush into marriage and now your stuck with a lousy husband, however once you get recruited as an on-site nurse for the survey corps you get to know commander Smith very well

Word count: 3.3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, size difference, cheating, fingering, y/n has a lousy husband, slightly catching feelings, mention of blood, rough sex, unprotected sex, pull out, implied squirting, belly bulge and slightly commander kink.

You were never one of those little girls that wanted to get married and have kids, but here you were. You settled and got married young, you didn’t love your husband, you weren’t satisfied with your husband, the man wasn’t even your type. However thanks to some frightening life lessons from your old sister, you rushed into marriage and now stuck with probably the most boorish, narrow-minded and egocentric man in the walls.

“We have guests coming over tonight, so prepare extra” your husband demanded as he walked up behind you and rubbed a hand over your butt, before giving it a light squeeze, “alright, who’s coming? So I can prepare something they’ll like” you asked, trying to play the happy little wife and stopping yourself from recoiling from his touch, “honestly it doesn’t matter it’s just a couple of soldiers… so make anything, just a lot of it” he spoke flatly before he walked to his study.

You had finished making the meal and had now began to set the table, while you waited for the guests to arrive. As you set out the final plate of food you heard a knock on the door, “y/n, hurry up and get the door” you husband yelled from his office, you rolled your eyes and answer the door. You were then met with the three commanding officers of the military regiments.

Nile Dok, commander of the Military Police.

Dot Pixis, commander of the Garrison.

And finally, Erwin Smith, commander of the Scout Regiment.

It took you a second to come to grips with what you were seeing, at first you thought your idiot husband, must have gotten into some kind of trouble with the Military Regiments, however if he had, soliders wouldn’t be so civil as to knock on the door, they’d just kick it in and rush the building.

After snapping out of your minor panic, you gestured for the men to come in, “come in… you’re right on time, I just finished setting the table… be sure wipe your boots on the door matt” you stepped aside and let all the men pass through, “straight down, second door on the left” you instructed as you closed the front door.

All the men made their way into the dining room and you told them to make themselves comfortable while you went and retrieved your husband.

When you return to dining room with your husband in toe, you found the three men looking at the small hand carved statues and the landscape paintings, that you had created in all your spare time at home once you got married.

After marrying your current husband, he demanded you to quit your job as a nurse and become the home body, and so to pass the time you began wood carving and paint.

“Sorry if you find those unsightly, my wife picked up the hobby as a way to pass time” your husband quipped, before side eyeing and silently asking you ‘why you didn’t put them away’, however you just ignored him and walked over the the eldest man of the three, who was holding a small white horse that had a black spot over its eye, that you had caved a few weeks ago, “do you like it?” You asked with a smile, the man nodded “yes, my grandson loves horses but we’ve had some difficulty finding toys he likes” Pixis went to place the horse down, “you can keep it if you’d like, I’m not save these figures from anything special” you said, before quickly taking out a handkerchief out of your apron pocket and wrapped the small figure in it, then passed it back to the man.

“Well we should start eating before the food goes cold” you smile and walk over to the table.

You sat and listen to the men conversant as you all ate, however the topic of why the sudden visit hadn’t been brought up yet and you felt yourself becoming impatient.

“If I may impose, but what was the reason for this sudden visit” you look between the three soldiers, “oh right, of course… you see we’re here to request your’s and your husband’s services in the Military’s medical unit” spoke Nile.

Both you and your husband looked shocked, but for two very different reasons “I’m sorry, I was under the impression my wife would have no part in this, she’s not even in service anymore” your husband said sternly, and you glared at him.

“Well that’s correct, however we looked through her medical reports and were also made aware of the short amount of time she spent in the training crops before she moved on to be a nurse” Pixis stated, and your husband snapped his head towards you.

You could see the displeasure in his eyes, “you were apart of the training crops?” He raised a questioning brow and you nodded, “for how long?” He asked condescendingly, like he believed you were dropped from the training crops, “about two years” you answered and then looked to the three man, “so where do you need us?” You smiled.

Pixis shifted uncomfortably before answering, “we’ll place you, Dr. H/L/N in Orvud District of wall sheena, and you, Mrs. H/L/N will be placed mostly in Trost District of wall Rose” he looked from you to your husband, “why won’t me and my wife be working together” your husband stated. “Unfortunately there’s only limited spots in the Orvud District’s medical unit and your wife’s skills are more suited to be with the survey corps, however if you’d like to join her in Trost District, your welcome to” Nile spoke and your husband looked to you, almost begging you to reject the offer so he could work in the inner walls without looking like a horrible husband for leaving you to work in a lesser and more dangerous area, “why don’t you take the job in Orvud District?” You asked with a smile.

Your husband smiled back at you, “because dear, I can’t leave you with the survey corps that’s dangerous” he held your hand, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, besides it’d be good to get some extra money to put in our savings, it’d help when we decide to have a baby” you smiled and place your other hand over top of his.

The way you spoke made it seem like everything was your idea and you were the one who wanted your husband to work in wall Sheena, however you really couldn’t care less where he was or wasn’t, but it was always easier on you to make him look like the good guy.

You weren’t sure if the other men could tell what you were doing, nor did you care, but your husband definitely appreciated it.

The rest of the night went fairly smooth, both you and your husband signed agreement forms and got information sheets about the days you’d be picked up and your tasks in the regiments you were assigned to.

Then came the day, you had a bag packed and you were picked up earlier in the morning by carriage, you said your goodbyes and got in.

Once getting into the carriage, you sat down across from Erwin and watched as he knock on the roof to signal the drive you were ready to leave.

The ride was relatively quiet until Erwin finally spoke, “we didn’t get to talk much at the dinner but the meal was lovely” he said and you smiled, “thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it” you blushed, Erwin was a very handsome man and there was no denying that, he was your ideal type of guy, and everything your husband was not.

“So why did you drop out of the training corps? You were doing excellently, judging by the class reports we went through” Erwin held a curious expression in his eyes and you shook your head “I feel like I’d save more lives in medicine rather then in the survey corps ‘fighting for freedom’… no offence” you watched as Erwin chuckled at your words, his laugh was so hot… what were you thinking, your a married woman, you may not be happy but your marriage nonetheless.

“So what will I be doing when we get there” you asked, “well first, you’ll be given a uniform, I’ll take you to the training ground to see where you need improvement and then we’ll both write up a timetable, that will have your training times and your clinic times so you can take clients then” Erwin explained “so unfortunately for you, we’ll be spending a lot of time together” he smiled, and you chuckled, “I guess I’m lucky you’re so easy on the eye, commander Smith” you flirt and then mentally scold yourself.

You were all sweaty, hot and out of breath as you stood on a large tree branch, “are you alright?” Erwin asked as he stepped onto the same branch effortlessly “yeah, I guess I’m just a really out of shape” you chuckled and lean on the trunk of the tree, “you look like your in great shape” the man smiled and gave your body a once over, before you thanked him.

You both took off your ODM gear before moving on to hand to hand combat, you could tell Erwin was pulling his punch’s and that was until you got him right in the nose and he stumbled back a bit.

You when in for another hit, however Erwin grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, then pushing you to the ground and pinned your hands behind your back, you look up at him and noticed he was bleeding.

“Oh my god, your bleeding” you struggle out of his grip and get up to look at his nose, “we should go inside its too dark out here to tell if it’s broken or not” you said in a panic and Erwin chuckled, “it doesn’t feel broken” you frowned at him, “yes but it could be” you pull him to his feet and drag him to the office you were assigned earlier that day.

You sat the large man on the chair and dabbed at his face, after cleaning any blood off his face you felt his nose to check if it was broken, luckily it wasn’t and so you gave him some tissues paper and told him to hold his nose until the blooding stop.

“Well I guess now is probably the best time to start working on your timetable” Erwin said as he wiped off any remaining blood from his face, “I guess your right” you said as you got some paper, ink and dip pens from a draw in your desk.

It didn’t take too long for you and Erwin to complete the timetable, Erwin also wrote a information sheet stating what services you offer and if the soldiers had any questions then to come and asked you, at the appropriate times of course.

You copied the sheet a few times and posted them in popular areas in the survey corps headquarters, like inside the barracks and in the dining hall.

It had been a week since you started working and you had requested for everyone to do a mandatory physical exam, you had started off with the young soldiers, then moved to the older soldiers and then finally to the captains and commanders of the regiment. There was a harsh knock on your door, “just a moment I have to finish up with someone” you called as you jotted Moblit’s height, weight and any physical markers you spotted while doing his exam.

“Are you ready to leave?” You asked Moblit as he slipped on his boot and he nodded, you opened the door to reveal a small grumpy man, “oh captain Levi, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow” you smiled and ushered him in and let Mobile out, you shut the door.

“Yeah Erwin said that he was busy and asked if I could deliver the message” Levi’s frown deepened, “well while you’re here I can do your exam, if you’re comfortable?” You asked and the man nodded.

You went on with Levi’s exam, and the man was in top physical condition, took down everything you requested and asked him to dress, “while you dress I’m going to shout out some questions, please answer honestly” you said and began with your questions.

The sun began to set and by now Levi’s exam was over, you walked him out of you office and found Erwin standing across the hallway waiting for you to finish, Levi ‘tsk’ when he saw Erwin and then disappeared down the hallway.

“Oh my, I didn’t expect you here, I thought you were busy” you smiled and over the short amount of time you worked here, you’ve begun to feel for Erwin, his just so kind and handsome.

“Yeah, I finished all my work and figured if you ain’t too tired you’d be able to do my physical exam, or at least reschedule it” Erwin smiled sheepishly, “sure come in” you stepped aside and let the large blonde in, “I’ll do your examination today, please disrobe and place this towel around you” you lead him to an area with a curtain and you handed him a towel, “once your done disrobing, sit on that bed” you said and starting gathering some paper and placing it on a clipboard.

You almost dropped the clipboard as you watched Erwin sit on the bed, pulling yourself together you begin the exam with checking his ears, eyes, nose, mouth and head. “That looks all good now I need to take some measurements” you say and gestures for him to stand up, you take out your measuring tape and kick a little stepping stool over to him, for you to stand on while measuring him.

You start with Erwin’s arms, you had to fight the urge to squeeze his large muscles, but you finally managed to take length and then circumference and by god you nearly cream yourself at the width of his biceps, you then moved on to his chest measurements, your first instinct was to run your nails down his extremely broad chest and lick up his chiselled stomach, you tried with all your might to not give into your temptations, however you won’t so lucky, subconsciously you leaned in huffed in his delicious musk, while letting your finger trail down his front, tracing his abs and deep v cut, and once you realised what you did, you stepped off the stool and moved back from the man.

“I’m so sorry commander Smith, I don’t know what came over me” you said with a red face, you were obviously lying, you wanted Erwin more then anything but you were a married woman and although you didn’t love or care for your husband, you were above cheating… you think… “it’s fine, I understand, you miss your husband… it gets quite lonely here, doesn’t it?” Erwin asked take a few steps forward causing you to take a few steps back, until you bumped into the desk.

“Look at me and honestly tell me you don’t want this, if so I’ll get dressed and leave, but if you can’t…” Erwin stood over you, he grabbed your face and made you look at him, “and if I can’t?” You question and Erwin chuckled, “I’ll fuck you silly” you swallowed.

“If I’m being honest I want you, but about my husband?” You asked as you maintained eye contact, “and what about him, what he doesn’t know won’t kill him” Erwin picked you up effortlessly and walked you over to the bed, before lying you down.

You laid on your back naked moaning, shadowed by Erwin’s figure, as he pumped two thick finger in and out of you, while rubbing your clit with his thumb and quickly worked you over the edge.

Erwin pulled his fingers out of you “you should be ready for me” he pulled you towards him, so your ass was just on the edge of the bed and place his length on your mons pubis, before pushing his hips to meet yours and this aloud him to measure his length against you.

Erwin lifted his member off you and poked just under your bellybutton “this is where you’re gonna feel me baby” Erwin smirked as you blushed and told him to stop being like that. Erwin pulled back and began to rub the tip of his lofty manhood against your folds.

You moan at the way he teased you, “just put it in, I’m desperate commander” you whines and you then felt two of Erwin’s finger spread you lower lips apart before pushing his throbbing tip in you.

You gasped at the painful discomfort that came with the unnatural stretch, even your first time wasn’t this painful.

“It hurts… it- it hur- hurts” you cried as you grabbed the bed in a death like grip, Erwin gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him and once your cries of pain turned into whines of pleasure he then slowly pushed more of himself in, you cried out loudly and arched your back as his cock came to the hilt, you heard him groan as he placed a hand on your lower stomach, “shit you need to see this” Erwin said through grit teeth.

You looked down at his hand and watched as he lifted it, there you saw a bulge in your belly and you brought your hands down to it, then began to rub it.

“Mmmm so full” you moaned looking up at Erwin and suddenly the man started thrusting in and out of you, keeping your hand on your lower stomach you felt Erwin’s girthy erection drag against you tight walls, “it feels so good Erwin” you breathed out between moans. Erwin grabbed your hips and pulled you into his rough thrust, you reached out to grab his arms as you gasped out in an attempt to stop him and when you finally got a hold of his arms it just gave Erwin more leverage in his brutal pace.

When you dug your nails into Erwin’s biceps, he left you off the bed and tangled a hand into your hair, before pulling back on it causing your back to bend.

In this new position Erwin pace never slowed it just got harder and deeper, you put your face in the crook of his neck to muffle you pleads and cries.

Erwin felt you tightening around him and grunted, “you gonna cum for your commander? Huh baby?” He placed you back on the bed and roughly gripped your hips, while leaving his pace unchanging.

You nodded as the knot in your stomach tightened and your the pressure in you throbbing cunt became unbearable, just as you began to cum on Erwin’s thick cock, he quickly pulled out of you and you suddenly feel all that pressure in the cunt release in a gush, “fucking hell, baby” you heard Erwin moan and you felt warm liquid spurt onto you.

You laid on the bed with your eyes closed and panting for a while, until Erwin’s hands wiped you down with the towel.

“I know this wasn’t your first time, but there’s some blood here, is that normal?” Erwin asked as he started dressing you, you nodded “yeah, you were just too rough with me” you whine at the pain.

You were then scoop up in Erwin arms and he carried you across the room to the door on the other side of the room, which leads to your private quarters.

Erwin lays you down in bed and sat on the bed until you feel asleep.

When you woke the next morning you noticed a note on the pillow next to you, as you reached to get it you could feel a sharp ache all over your body, but most notably in your hips and lower back.

You read the note and it stated that Erwin requested the clinic be closed today because you were having a day off, after you finished reading, you dropped the note and went back to sleep, to hopefully rest off the pain.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 15 - Jiraiya: Seeing red.

Day 17 - Asahi Azumane: A/B/O.

[quimichi]

HEY. can i maybe possibly get some mika smut... it can be literally anything, there's so little content of him that i can't afford to be picky 😭

thank you in advance !!

↳ ❝ [SOME TIME SPEND WITH MIKA] ¡!

warnings: porn without plot, grinding, open start open ending idk, switch!Mika and reader

summary: a little quality private time with your favorite ♡

characters: Aged up!Mika x Creator!Reader

word count: 483

a/n: i 100% no Mika content is out there, its sad cause he's such a little cutie ♡ i remember when i started playing genshin a few months ago he was one of my first pulls, i was so happy and played him a looot

Leaning down, pressing your lips against his once more, and again...and again, like you have been the past hour. A small gasp slipping from your lips when his hands slip up your shirt. He has grown to be more daring over the past years with you. He was always fixated on touching you, but his favorite time was just like this. Hands sliding between you and your clothes, greedily taking in every soft shiver as he moved his fingers against your skin. Exploring your body like a new landscape.

A soft whine fell from Mika’s lips when you pressing yourself further into him. He was already hard; it really didn’t take much.

Maybe he was just a little bit sensitive, but he couldn’t really act like he isn't. Not around you. Not when he had already told you he only wanted to be with you, forever. That was a few months ago, but you seemed so content in keeping it this way; he didn’t want to change that. You always wore a soft expression when he caught you looking at him. He was aware he was your one and only favorite. He wasn’t sure if it was from you two being so close for so many years, or if you were really starting to feel something else for him. 

But he would've never risked it...telling you how he feels. In the end, you were the one who confessed first. “Fuck.” His voice was already shaky, and you took notice of it. You didn't expect him to be this needy already. You grind your hips against him, shifting so you could press into his aching cock even more.

“What’s wrong, Mika?” you innocently ask, the audacity you have, but you know exactly what he wants. You learned over these past few months what he was like when he wanted you, needed you. It was something you found pride in, being able to read him like an open book. “Speak up” you tease.

“Why do you always tease me.”

“Cause its to easy.” you grin against his lips.

It wasn’t long after that where you found yourself pinned under him. The softness of your silky bed gave you comfort as you stared up into his hungry eyes. Hair falling into his eyes, he looked so perfect. So pretty. So different from what you're used to.

You took advantage of these moments, when he was completely yours and you were his  He’d let you do anything you wanted to him... Whatever you asked, he’d give in like it was his nature. And that goes for you too, he'd just have to ask and you'd do what he said.

“Mika...” You were breathless again, the look in his eyes making it hard to focus on anything else than him.

“Hm?” His breath was hot on your neck again. He leaned down lips run lightly down your jaw....

♡ TAGLIST ♡

@junejunejun

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (04)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Teen (series will be explicit) Words: 1.3k Summary: At the Gate

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

He has no idea what has come over him.

Sure, he’d found the bounty. That part had been easy. But what the hell was he doing following her off to the Sierra Nevadas? The money was the other way, and every step they took was another chance for her to run away from him. Or get hurt.

It made no damn sense.

“So where you headed, Cowboy?”

He can’t resist. “Mountains.”

Another one of those laughs flows out of her. It does something to him, halfway between soothing his soul and grating on his damn nerves. “I meant before you decided to come with me.”

He considers just telling her the truth. It’d make things easier. No way she’d get away from him out here, the area is too flat with nowhere to hide. The best she could hope for would be to outrun him for a spell. Hell, she might not even do that much. She seemed more the type to try to talk him out of it. Beg a little and maybe try to use her wiles to get him to let her go.

The thought was tempting, he had to admit.

He lets his mind wander, ignoring the stream of consciousness chatter coming from her. He’d tie her up first, that usually got folks to start considering their options real quick. She’d look up at him with those glossy eyes and, hell, she’d already be on knees. Wouldn’t be the work of a moment to slip his thumb between those plush lips and-

“Where are you going?”

The thoughts scatter and he scowls at the landscape, reaching down to adjust himself. “The fucking mountains, like you said.”

“The mountains are that way,” she gestures, about thirty degrees to the right of where he’d been taking them. 

“There’s a trading post this way, unless you got enough on you for the trip.”

She makes a face at him but starts walking in the direction he’d set. With a sigh he reaches out and grabs her arm, correcting her a bit.

“This a’ways, darlin’.”

He doesn’t hold on. Doesn’t wrap the rope on his belt around her wrists and tell her she’s just a job for him. Doesn’t fess up to how and why he found her.

If he did that, he wouldn’t get to hear that bone-jarring laugh again.

She also didn’t seem to care. Striding beside him companionably, as though they’d known each other years. Fuck, she was going to get herself killed. 

Not that it mattered to him. Would be a waste of a few thousand caps though.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?” he drawls back.

“The trading post, are there landmarks?”

Adjusting the pack slung over his shoulder he glances at the sun. “I’ve been there a fair few times over the years.”

“Do they take anything besides caps?”

He cocks his head, “Why, you not got any?”

She’s frowning at the ground ahead of her, studying it like it insulted her momma. “Some. Would they accept trades?”

“I do not know,” he responds truthfully. It’d been a good forty years since the last time he was there. Who the fuck knew how they ran their business now. “But we should get there around sunset. You can ask them yourself.”

“That close?” she seems surprised. “I didn’t see anything from the tower.”

“You wouldn’t.” 

She doesn’t ask for clarification and he doesn’t bother to give it. She’d see for herself soon enough.

He spots the first guard before long, back to a boulder not far off the path. He flashes the signal, middle and ring finger straight up. The man squints but lets them pass.

He’d just have to hope the signals haven’t changed in the last few decades.

Another mile and she actually sees the guard first. “To the left, behind the ridge.”

Squinting, he spots them, rifle tracking their movements. “Good eye.”

“You gonna signal them too?”

Huh, he didn’t think she’d noticed last time. “You want do the honors?”

She waves her hand at the person on the ridge, middle two fingers up in a ‘V’. Again they don’t get shot.

Yet the gates to the post remain closed as they approach, no wave from the ramparts or shout of greeting. The post blends into the landscape, half buried in the rubble of an old visitor center. Someone had dug it out a while back, created caverns and fortified it against people like him.

“I seem to remember a rather warmer welcome.”

She glances at him, then the wall of sheet metal. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe.” He takes a step forward, holding his hands up. “We’re here to trade, Martha still around?”

“Martha’s been dead sixteen years,” a voice calls back. “And we don’t take to ghouls in these parts. Move along.”

A growl threatens to escape from his throat, his vision going red at the edges. He needs another hit of chem but now isn’t the time. “Just looking for some supplies for my cold-blooded friend here.”

“Cold-blooded?” she mutters defensively.

“She’s welcome, you ain’t.”

“I’m not coming in without him.” She steps up next to him, putting a hand on his wrist and gently pushing it down. He lowers both hands, giving her an assessing look. “We’re just passing through, we don’t mean any harm.”

“That’s what people who mean harm say.”

“Fair,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Maybe this is where we part ways,” he tells her. It’s not as though he wouldn’t know where she was. He could wait for her to come back out - hell it wouldn’t even be the work of a moment to follow her in. He could think of at least three ways into the place he’d bet his left nut no one remembered anymore.

“No,” she snaps, taking him aback. “We both go in or neither. This is ridiculous.” Louder she says, “I’ve got some old world gear. It’s not a lot, but you let us in and I’ll offer you a fair deal.”

“Leave the ghoul outside.”

“We go in together or not at all.”

Something shifts in him and he presses the heel of his hand to his chest for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had laid a claim to him. Not that he worked with others often - but most people were as eager to get away from him as he was to be rid of them.

There’s silence from the post, then a new voice. “What you got?”

“Circuit board,” she calls back easily, “ultracite, gold.” The Ghoul’s eyes widen and he takes a step to block her from view.

“The fuck you have?” he snaps in a low snarl.

“I told you I needed to trade.”

“You didn’t fucking tell me you were carrying fucking gold in your damn pack, they’re liable to kill us on the spot.”

“I’ll trade,” she calls past him, “in exchange for supplies for us both for two weeks. And meds.”

“What if we just take it?”

“Told you.” he grunts, but she lays a steadying hand on his sleeve.

“I’m tougher than I look,” her voice is strong and loud and suddenly he believes her, “and my friend is… well you know what he is. He isn’t going to go down easy either.”

“I won’t,” he chimes in, letting them see his wide grin. “I got a lot of miles on me, if I take a mind to it y’all ain’t gonna live to see the sun rise.”

“See?” she sounds charming, like she’s listing the brunch specials at one of those old Hollywood restaurants he used to take his wife to. “We can all die, or we can all live. Personally I’d prefer the latter. Why don’t we agree to be friends for a bit then we can all move on?”

Silence hangs heavy in the air for a full minute before a loud squealing noise breaks through. The gates slowly part and a woman steps through with a rifle slung over her shoulder.

“Well, you’d best be getting on. Once the sun goes down ain’t nobody coming in, I don’t care what you have.”

☢ ☢ ☢

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[stedefxckingbonnet]

Past Lives | Izzy Hands x Reader

Izzy Hands x Gn!Reader

Summary: Quite some time has passed since you joined the crew of The Revenge per being saved, and you've grown particularly close to the one who brought you aboard. One night in particular is breathtaking and you decide you cannot contain your feelings anymore, but you had never learned exactly how to express these sorts of feelings to another person, let alone Izzy Hands. So, you do so in the only way you know how.

Warnings: slight angst/tension, slight avoidant attachment style (w/resolution though), kissing, some strong language

Word count: 2264 (some longer ones coming your way in the near future, though!)

A/N: hi hi lovely people! This is honestly the first x reader I've written since I was probably 14-15, so please bear that in mind! My interpretation of Izzy I feel like, isn't always 100% representative of him in the show itself, but I feel like I tried to capture him at his core while exploring this more sensitive side of him that we are getting in season 2, perhaps more of a what he is on the pathway to being, and therefore already is, if that makes any sense. Just has to be unlocked in levels. Plus, Izzy deserves the world so I just wanted to write something sweet to dip my toe back into this sort of writing. Anyhow, I'd like to get back into the habit of writing these so please, do request! I hope you all enjoy this one, comments are much appreciated xx

The stars illuminated the sky in such a way that it almost looked like a painting—a bit too picturesque, like one of those artworks that only aristocrats could afford to have on the wall of their ornate mansions passed through the centuries, or even built and curated just for them. Nonetheless, it was breathtaking, and the fresh air coursed through your veins and senses so effortlessly and made you feel alive. Nights like these weren't meant to be spent hidden away in your quarters and you knew that. Once you were sure everyone had retired for the night, you quietly crept onto the main deck, ready for your moment of solace that you had been seeking for weeks now.

You approached one of the railings, scanning across the deck still to see if anyone had been lurking nearby. The coast was clear, and finally, you found somewhere to lean on as you stared out into the night sky, the wind blowing through even the hairs on your neck, making them stand. On occasion, you'd be sprayed by the sea but it was the most at peace you had felt in weeks.

"Rough night?" you heard someone quietly call from a short distance away. You almost jumped, but you quickly turned around only to see Izzy Hands. Relief washed over you, as did a nervous feeling that had only begun recently. You inhaled sharply as Izzy waltzed over, thanking the stars for not illuminating this spot too much, therefore being no way he saw you craving that much air in your lungs. He leaned beside you on the railing, awaiting your reply.

"Not at all," you admitted. "Quite the opposite. It's so beautiful out tonight."

Izzy only nodded. He joined you in looking out at the landscape presented before him. In all of his years of sailing, it was all he had ever known--the sky and the sea, yet, he had never thought it to be this ravishing before. He never noticed how lovely it could be. Being here with you, he saw it all in a new light. He discreetly glanced over at you once again. He had noticed the way your lips slightly parted when you saw something you liked, and the way your shoulders lowered when you were relaxed. He noticed that you'd twiddle your thumbs when you were truly happy—in fact, you happened to be doing it right now. Izzy allowed his lips to curl into a smile upon realizing this. Finally, he broke the silence.

"I've never seen anything like this," he admitted, almost out of breath whilst he was still looking over at you. You still hadn't noticed.

"Isn't it...divine?" you chuckled. "Beautiful seems too weak a word."

"I feel the opposite. I don't think I've ever described anything as beautiful before."

"Really? Not once?"

Izzy shook his head. "Saving it for something special, I guess."

Silence filled the space between the two of you once again, but for once in your life, it was a comfortable silence. You looked out at the sea, but this time, you could feel Izzy's eyes on you. You attempted to discreetly glance his way, and you couldn't help but smile when you locked eyes. You looked away as you practically felt your cheeks burning and your stomach turning, and you hoped to the sea gods that you weren't falling ill. But these forlorn feelings felt honestly incredible, for once. A wave of confusion crashed over you, and it was growing more and more difficult to ignore.

"You alright?" Izzy inquired with genuine concern. This entire time, his eyes have not left you.

"What? Me?"

Izzy chuckled. "Who else?"

"Fine. Just fine."

"Just fine?"

"Do you believe in past lives?" you suddenly heard yourself ask, and already you were cursing yourself for it.

"Past lives?" Izzy repeated pensively. You nodded, looking over at him intently. It took him a moment to think of a response, and even still, he seemed unsure. "This sure as hell feels like the first time I'm living. Otherwise I probably wouldn't have made a lot of the decisions and mistakes I've made, I suppose."

You felt your heart sink, and it almost felt like there was no way to retrieve it. "I see. Well, goodnight."

Without letting Izzy have another word, you scurried back to your quarters, tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in your chest. You winced as you forced yourself out of bed, though as you dressed, the feeling began to dissipate. You almost teared up again upon reminiscing last night. What were you thinking, asking something like that of Israel Hands? Where did that even come from? Why did his answer hurt so terribly? A million thoughts swarmed around in your head like flies, and there wasn't much you could do to swat them away. You felt like holing yourself up in your room but you knew that with Stede as one of the captains, this wasn't much of an option. After hovering your hand above the doorknob for what seemed like ages, you finally twisted it, revealing yourself to the crew. Already, everyone seemed to be intertwined in their usual antics and fuckeries--it would have been fun and refreshing to see if not for the somber mood you were in. Lucius waved you over, and you seriously thought of walking right past him, but he was your dear friend, like a brother to you and you wouldn't have forgiven yourself if you dismissed him. You trudged over to him, and he immediately recognized your gloom.

"Well good morning, mopey," Lucius teased, nudging you in the shoulder.

"Not today, Luci," you mumbled. "Not today."

Lucius' smile dropped, though he raised a brow. "Talk to me. Who do I need to punch?"

"No one. I'm just having a bad day."

"You are such a bad liar."

"I just don't wanna talk about it," you grumbled. Lucius was at a loss for words, but thankfully you knew just what to say. "The sky was lovely last night. If only you'd been awake to sketch it. You're the only one who would have done it any justice."

"Maybe I'll have another chance tonight," Lucius said hopefully.

"Maybe you will," you breathed out as suddenly, none other than Izzy himself appeared onto the deck. You gulped and turned away from him immediately.

"Whoa, whoa. What's going on with you and Iz—“

"—I don't wanna talk about it," you almost seethed. Before you knew it, a finger tapped your shoulder. You swiveled around, fighting the tears in your eyes.

"Got a minute?"

"Not exactly."

"What better do you have to do?" Izzy demanded. Your jaw dropped, and you were waiting for your thoughts to catch up with your mouth but they never did. "That's what I thought. Come on, Y/N."

"Later, okay? Not right now. Tonight," you promised. "That's my best offer."

"I'll hold you to it."

You immediately realized the mistake you had made, and how difficult and miraculous it would be to get through this entire day before possibly knowing what Izzy wanted from you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The shadow of the moon was present once again, and for once, you dreaded the wonders of nighttime. It felt perilous and peculiar now, like a friend you didn't quite recognize anymore. But, a promise was a promise, you'd be damned if you broke one, let alone this one. As frustrated and almost devastated as you were, you'd never allow yourself to break a promise to Izzy. You pulled your favorite capelet over your shoulders and started toward the deck to find Izzy already waiting in your usual spot. You hadn't realized it until now, but this really was your and Izzy's spot. It's where you wiped away his tears when he cried in front of you the first time, it's where he sat with you countless times when you couldn't sleep, it's where the two of you conversed until dawn frequently. Always this spot. It took everything in you to fight off a pang of joy upon experiencing such an epiphany. Izzy didn't notice that you had appeared beside him until you looked over at him finally.

"Are you alright? You seemed a bit...I don't know. Not yourself this morning, and last night."

"I'm fine," you shrugged, knowing Izzy would see right through you like you were a phantom.

"I don't buy that for a second," Izzy rolled his eyes. And with that, silence surrounded you both once again. It frustrated Izzy to no end that he couldn't figure out what was plaguing you. He always felt as if he was able to put a finger on whatever it was that bothered you, he prided himself on knowing you that well. The last thing he wanted was for you to become a stranger after all the two of you had endured together. The thought of losing you filled him with a sorrow he had never felt before.

"I'm sorry about what I asked you last night. About past lives and stuff," you suddenly said. Yet another moment where your mind and mouth weren't synced. You regretted saying this as soon as you began to speak, but you knew that once you did, there would be no stopping, no taking anything back.

"What was that all about, anyway?" Izzy implored. You almost scoffed at his tone but when you met eyes with him, you instantly realized that he genuinely wished to know. His eyes sort of twinkled when he was curious, and this was the first time you noticed such an endearing phenomenon.

"I just," you exhaled, pausing before you spoke again, this time choosing your words carefully. "Why'd you save me that day at Jackie's?"

Izzy was taken aback at such a question. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not at all, actually," you laughed in annoyance, which was only a coping mechanism for the extreme anxiety you were undergoing in this moment.

"I honestly can't give you an answer you'd want," Izzy admitted. "I just felt...called to. I could tell it would be nice having you around here. I wanted to give you a place you could call home."

"So, wait, you care about me?" you inquired seriously, which only earned a chuckle of disbelief from him.

"Of course I do, dammit!"

"I don't know, Iz, I just...from the moment we met I felt this connection to you and I can't explain it. No matter how hard I could try, I won't be able to. I felt like I was meant to be around you."

"You think I didn't feel that way, too?"

"You did?" you asked, a glint of hope looming in your voice.

"Of course I did. And, I do. I can't explain it either. But I felt as if we were meant to be around each other, in each other's lives. I don't know," he rambled nervously. This was the first time you had seen Izzy like this. It was a side of him you weren't even sure he possessed until now.

"I guess I sort of caked that to the past life shit," you sighed. "And when you said you didn't believe in past lives, I freaked out and took that as you not caring about me and everything we've built just felt like a huge lie."

"Everything we've built," Izzy repeated.

"I'm so sorry," you laughed embarrassedly. "I don't know what I'm talking about."

"No," Izzy cut you off, putting his gloved finger to your lips. You could feel Izzy's breath on your face. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have asked you to come with me. I had only known you for a few moments and I already knew you would be...important to me."

You were absolutely baffled. You opened your mouth to speak, and not a sound escaped it. Izzy took a step closer to you, slowly moving his hand to cup the right side of your face.

"And it helps that you are just...beautiful," he whispered as your foreheads touched. You could've sworn your heart was going a million miles a minute and that you would need some sort of village medic after this. As if it were instinct, your hand made its way into his carefully swept hair, and it felt like silk between your fingers. All of your worries suddenly melted away as you melted into one another, your lips brushing up against one another's. You nodded pleadingly, yes, you wanted this, followed by a nod from Izzy and finally, like puzzle pieces, your lips connected. It felt effortless and so, so right to share such closeness. Two becoming one, two souls merging to create a love bigger than either of you. A love that had been carefully crafted ever since the first day of meeting. A love that the both of you knew would inevitably take hold, because it always did in all the stories you devoured and then later went on to show to Izzy. A love that you had craved since you heard of the concept of it. A love that Izzy never thought he would attain in his lifetime.

You gasped happily for air, yet your foreheads still touched. Izzy gazed at you as if you were the only other person in the world and the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

"Perhaps I haven't had any past lives," Izzy breathed. "but I will have love for you in all my next."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was i the asshole for telling my wife to work on something else from me while we play Minecraft?

Low stakes lol

So me and my wife just finally both got Nintendo online accounts and my wife just got a copy of minecraft for herself. I have a normal switch that's hooked up to the TV and she has a switch lite. Today was the first day I've ever played Minecraft with someone else and 4th or 5th time for her over the years. I'm not used to playing videogames with other people (I had a 3ds/dsi a majority of my life and was never into mmos or anything. Had a PC but it was parents work so I didn't get to touch it) and I have ocd so I tend to have a very specific way of doing things with different things I like to focus on.

My wife has ADHD so she's all over the place. Today we played Minecraft together for the first time and although it generally went great, she would often run into me or not know what to do.(we we're building a mansion for ourselves). This was mildly irritating so, nicely, I asked if we could work on separate things. I was working on some landscaping while she was working on laying the floor. She seemed a lot quieter after that but I can't tell if I upset her, she was as focused as I was or bored. I didn't mean to upset her, I was just tired of running into each other and messing up each other's jobs. We still collaborated on picking colors and how things looked but overall, I'm terrified I killed the mood.

I have autism so I totally get it I gave her rsd. I think I may of been taking it a bit more seriously than she was and squashed the fun. I never told her what to do (beyond coming up with a job when she didn't have anything to do) nor criticized her for what she did but I ended up sort of taking a job of planning things for the foundation and she followed. It wasn't me drowning out ideas, she just didn't end up providing any.

All in all I think it could be I'm just too sensitive and assume she's mad when she's not (I do that often, thank trauma) so I don't miss when she is mad. Idk I'll ask her but was I the asshole for asking from some space while building so we weren't in such close corners?

What are these acronyms?

[worldruins]

Meet the Remnant, my "slugcat" oc. Because I have no sense of moderation, it has an entire campaign loosely mocked up in my head- I don't have the modding ability or time to make anything of it but I enjoy thinking about it! The two iterators on the sheet are the central npcs of the campaign.

Remnant is larger, more aquatic, and faster on all fours than a slugcat. It struggles to use the same tools, carries items in its mouth, and can eat batnip and bubble weed. And, though it doesn’t know it, it is one of the last four of its kind left.

More about the campaign below VVV

BONUS: Remnant obviously resembles a slugcat, and they are sort of a slugcat ancestor! The genomes of the pipe slugs slugcats evolved from had remnant DNA as well as the simple tool-worm base that ancients used for many creatures. The blueprints were present in the modified organisms, and over several generations and mutations began to express themselves once more. Anyway…

To start, the Remnant is living with their family in an idyllic natural landscape much like survivor and monk at the beginning of their campaigns. The incident kickstarting their journey would be them wandering off from their kin and- gameplay starts here- getting lured off by something interesting, before the wall closes quickly behind them and the player realizes they have been trapped. They find themselves in a crate lined with wet plant matter, which gets shaken and turned around for a bit before settling down. It continues with a gentler rattling and remnant is clearly being taken somewhere, but the game acts like you're in a den and, once you've eaten the food set out for you in there, you sleep.

You are woken when the train carrying you crashes. You are able to escape and wind up in a light drizzle. Numerous overseers, some purple and others seafoam green, follow you around. The artificial, dilapidated surroundings are alien to the remnant.

During the first cycle an overseer will direct you to the nearest den, but you don’t have a rain timer until the first time you hibernate. You’ve never experienced rain like this before, after all.

The fact is that the remnant and their family are primal fauna, from the old world before bioengineering and iterators. They have spent their whole lives in a carefully controlled environment, maintained at first by ancients and then the systems the ancients left behind. The mass ascension happened, and nobody really knew what to do with these creatures- depending on the species, animals in captivity were generally released to fend for themselves or set for years of being maintained by machines scheduled in advanced, automated to care for them.

Remnant is taken when the iterator Ink Stained Palms orders a specimen of one relatively hardy species to study and potentially have the rest delivered to their regions. Something goes wrong- their delivery is sabotaged by their semi-active former senior, Calls To Stony Skies. And out Remnant goes into an alien land, with each of the two rival iterators trying to lure or force it to go to them.

This generally takes the form of projections like Iggy uses to get the slugcats to Moon, though it’s two different kinds of overseer guiding you in opposite directions at the same time. There may also be introduced environmental hazards- some of the chases in Little Nightmares come to mind- to corral you toward wherever the iterator causing it wants you to go.

ISP was the one who was getting the remnant delivered to her facility. They’re a bioengineer interested in long-term ecosystem restoration. It’s come to believe there’s a natural ‘balance’ to the world that could, in time, let living things leave the cycle of their own accord if it was realigned properly.

CTSS is in a condition not unlike spearmaster moon, though his decline has been steadier and over a longer period of time. They’ve been replaced by another iterator as group senior, and derailed your journey in the hopes of using a rare animal as collateral to get ISP’s help. Watching the remnant’s struggle to survive, however, he ends up very attached to it and can’t bring himself to kill it as he originally planned to.

Though they might want to, CTSS can’t save the remnant from a more insidious fate. The air, the soil, the water itself is toxic to you, whose kind has lived countless generations shielded from the heavy metal byproducts of industry and the artificial metabolisms of those great boxes in the sky. Ascension is an option, but so is going to ISP, whose body itself possesses a complex with artificial environments much like the one you began in. It can’t protect the remnant fully, but it can offer them a longer life. There are multiple endings to the campaign, based on the order you visit the iterators in.

If you read all this thank you so much and feel free to send questions!! About my little guys.

[hedonistpoet06]

What If The Storm Ends? - Part 1 Five Hargreeves x Female OC

'What if Five's time during that first apocalypse was slightly different, what if he wasn't alone for all those years?'

Synopsis: On April 1st 2019, the world ended. Icarus had indeed flown too close to the sun when Five Hargreeves pushed the limits of his power. The boy desperately yearned to use his powers to time travel and when he succeeded, he found himself trapped in the future apocalypse. Octavia Maddenfield had spent her whole life hiding her ability to shield and protect, only for it to save her when an asteroid collided into the earth, effectively wiping out all of humanity. The two teenagers are ecstatic to find that they are no longer alone in the apocalypse, however they must learn to navigate their newfound dynamic as Five tries to time travel back to the past and stop the end of the world from ever happening. Octavia is intrigued by the boy's sarcastic demeanour but also incredibly frustrated by his secretive nature, especially towards his past. And Five despises how easy Octavia can make him vulnerable, he tells himself that he cannot become invested in their obvious connection but something about her is so undeniably captivating.

Authors Note: This work is also available on my Wattpad under the users 'hedonistpoet04' and AO3 'heartofthehedonistpoet06' if you wish to read it there!

Word Count: 5099

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈 - 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫̶𝐨̶𝐦̶𝐜̶𝐨̶𝐦̶ 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞

i. 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Octavia Maddenfield met Five Hargreeves during the second spring of the apocalypse.

The young girl had surprised herself with how long she had kept herself alive during the end of the world before she found him. During those first two years Octavia tried to tally the days but it was often difficult to keep track of the passing of time.

It was just before midday and Octavia had left the safety of her base to scavenge the city for anything resourceful, mostly food since that was of the utmost importance for her survival. She climbed the endless wreckage of concrete, metal and broken glass for what felt like hours. Octavia had explored most of the outskirts of the city but this was the deepest she had ever searched into it. She hoisted herself up onto a particularly large piece of concrete until her movement was suddenly paused by the foreign sound of something moving, something alive.

Octavia immediately froze at the reverberation of the sound throughout the otherwise lifeless landscape. She then quickly hid behind a particularly large piece of debrief, shielding her silhouette before turning her head to pinpoint the source of the noise. Her heart thudded painfully in the cavern of her chest, she could practically hear its pounding resonance deep within her eardrums. Octavia found herself polarised by the sudden prospect of seeing another person, another human being who was alive and made of flesh and bone. Her heart's incessant beating stopped abruptly when she identified the clear figure of a boy who had to be no older than herself. His back was turned and his face was hidden but she was able to extract some of his key features.

The boy had dark brown hair which looked somewhat overgrown and a slender physique, both were probably attributed to the apocalypse. Octavia felt slightly at ease by the knowledge that the first human she had seen in two whole years was most likely around her own age, however, she was also terrified. She stiffened when she saw the large hunting rifle he had strapped to his back as he continued to burrow through the wreckage like a hungry marsupial.

Octavia couldn't help but grow jealous at how fortunate this stranger must have been to have come across a gun in this desolate wasteland, as she was forced to make do with the few knives she could find that weren't completely rusted.

He was muttering to himself whilst digging through the debris, as if he was intently looking for something. Octavia peeked her head out a bit further out to try and hear what he was saying only for the attempt to be futile. She felt an overwhelming surge of curiosity and adrenaline coursing through her body, encouraging the girl to get closer and decipher what exactly this boy was doing. Careful to not disrupt him, she slowly started to crawl on all fours until she reached a fallen pillar. Octavia decided that this was close enough and inched her head out to get a clearer look. The boy in question was still oblivious to her presence, he continued to mumble to himself and she noticed his demeanour grew irritable. He swore under his breath before throwing a chunk of rubble into the distance, as if that was going to alleviate his frustration.

Octavia flinched at his sudden action and instinctively sought refuge behind the pillar. Unfortunately the sound of her quick movement had caught his attention. She froze and clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle the small surprised gasp that was about to leave her lips. It was too late, the boy knew that she was here or he was at least aware that somebody was watching him. Octavia was painfully aware of the large, lethal rifle strapped to his back as she heard him load and cock it, preparing to shoot.

She was stuck in a rather complicated situation, she couldn't run in case he decided to shoot her and if she tried to jump out and defend her honour he'd probably also shoot her. She was trapped with nowhere to go, so Octavia did what she told herself was a last and final resort. She used her powers on him.

She swiftly emerged from her hiding spot behind the pillar and met the eyes of the boy in front of her. Although he was still a good few strides away from her, Octavia could see the bewilderment in his eyes at her appearance. However, the barrel of the gun was still pointed in her direction and this made her panic. Octavia quickly outstretched her hands and focused all of her energy on manifesting her powers. She drew all of her focus into conjuring a forcefield big enough to encase the boy in front of her. Soon, the familiar lilac light of Octavia's ability had erupted around him, encasing him in a small but sturdy forcefield. She watched as he lowered the gun and darted his head to examine the newly formed forcefield, obviously taken aback by the abrupt manifestation of her power.

"Don't you dare move!" Octavia called out. She tried her hardest not to sound intimidating, after all she did have the upper hand in this situation. Although, the girl's voice slightly faltered, intimidation bleeding through her attempt at assertion. The boy took a step back in his new confinement, as if he was analysing the sphere around him. His eyes then darted from the forcefield to her.

"I wasn't going to attack you!" He snapped back, although the pitch and the youth present in his voice made it sound rather half hearted.

A complicated pang resonated in Octavia's chest at the realisation that this was the first person she had seen in two entire years. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to the situation at hand, should she laugh? Cry? Or maybe just focus on making it out of here alive without a bullet between her eyes.

"You were pointing a gun at me!" Octavia retorted, gesturing to the rifle.

"You snuck up on me!" He bickered back and she quickly became aware of just how young they both sounded, like true teenagers quarrelling with each other.

"You have a gun!" She reiterated.

"You trapped me in a bubble!" The boy exclaimed before he demanded to be let go "get me out of this thing!"

"It's not a bubble!" Octavia countered, slightly offended at his belittling choice of words, "Besides, how do I know you're not going to hurt me?" she interrogated him further, eyeing the rifle in his hands.

"Okay, no gun. See? I'm not going to shoot you." He quickly shuffled the weapon to its original spot on his back and put his hands up as if he were surrendering.

"Not now you certainly aren't." She said, clearly referring to the forcefield around him. "Struggling is pointless by the way." Octavia tried her hardest to sound cocky.

The boy's eyes shot Octavia a withering glare, he saw straight through the facade of her confidence. "Yeah, obviously," he muttered back, trying to tug against the force field only to no avail.

He gives one more useless tug before he stops, scoffing. "Can you get this thing off of me?" The boy huffed, his irritation only growing.

Octavia had actually considered letting him out, a part of her youthful naivety believed that he was harmless enough but she was brought back to reality by the weapon that he carried and the fact that he was a total stranger.

"Only if you can promise me two things." She finally said, lowering her hands slightly but kept the forcefield maintained. She watched as the boy raised a brow at the bargain, clearly somewhat puzzled. He looks her up and down again, still eyeing her warily and Octavia suddenly felt extremely self conscious, like he was trying to dissect her with his eyes, which he was.

Five was still slightly disorientated by the purple light which surrounded him. A small part of him was impressed at the supernatural ability this girl obtained, the other part of him was pissed that he couldn't use his own to spatial jump out of her stupid bubble.

"And what exactly is that?" His voice was filled with dry amusement as she noticed him slowly but smugly cross his arms behind the lilac force field.

"Firstly, you'll tell me who you are..." Octavia started to speak as she looked him up and down again, examining to see if he had any other hidden weapons on him "and secondly, you have to promise not to kill me." Her cheeks slightly flush in annoyance as she sees him let out a chuckle at the girl's request, as if he found it humorous.

"Five," He announced matter of factly. "My name's Five," he glanced up at the force field again. "And I promise not to kill you," he responded with a bit of a scoff, in disbelief at the absurdity of his own words.

"Like the number?" Octavia raised her brow in surprise as she was genuinely taken aback by the absurdity of his name. The numerical nature of the boy's name was certainly not what she was expecting.

The boy, now renowned as Five exhaled a frustrated breath before pinching the skin between his brows. "Yes, like the number," he responds with a monotonous voice, like he's answered that question one too many times before.

"You only promised me two questions for my freedom, so let me out!" He said, growing increasingly more infuriated. Although Octavia had an abundance of questions regarding the peculiar name she subdued her curiosity into the back of her mind as she remembered their bargain.

"Right, sorry." She quickly muttered an apology and focused her energy on levitating the boy through the forcefield, hovering him just above the ground and moving him closer to where she stood. A perk of Octavia's unique ability was being able to control the contents inside her forcefields, including making them float. She watched in amusement as Five looked absolutely perplexed at his sudden levitation, his eyes flickered between his feet and back up at Octavia.

"What the hell—" he muttered, startled at the lack of ground underneath him. Octavia closed her eyes and focused her effort into deactivating the force field, slowly but surely the lilac light began to melt away. She watched as Five fell to the ground in a not so graceful manner, his sense of balance obviously disrupted by the sudden air trip.

"Crap! Sorry-" Octavia grimaced at the sound and started to move towards him to help him back to his feet but she held herself back. He's stunned, trying to re-ground himself for a moment before shooting an annoyed look up at her and she can't help but feel slightly guilty.

"Could've tried to make that a bit more graceful." Five huffed out, somewhat breathless from the abrupt descent to the ground.

Octavia watched as he stood up and dusted off his oversized black jacket. Five was now only a few feet away from her and this granted Octavia the opportunity to get a good look at his appearance. As much as Octavia was reluctant to admit it to herself, he was undoubtedly the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. Even when all things at the end of the world were considered, he was most certainly not that unfortunate looking. Five was definitely not in the cleanest state, neither was Octavia as their personal appearances were the last of their concerns when it came to their respective survival.

Octavia never considered boys her age to be cute or even somewhat appealing, her only understanding of what made a boy attractive were the boy band posters on the wall of her childhood bedroom. But something about Five was so endearing to her, from his slender cheekbones, to his green eyes or the way his messy, outgrown hair slightly covered his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he was the first boy she had seen in two years or perhaps it was just the subconscious desperation from being alone for so long. As Five stood a few steps away from Octavia she was able to discern that he was hardly taller than herself, maybe a few inches give or take.

Five had never taken a particular interest in girls, especially before the events of the apocalypse. He respected them of course, he had two sisters after all, Allison and Vanya. Despite the fact that they could often get on his nerves, he admired his sisters, although not to the same degree as Luther who habitually made heart eyes at Allison across the dinner table. Five didn't understand the appeal of them as he watched Luther practically drool like a puppy over his adopted sister. Perhaps the boy's mind was too preoccupied with other more important things such as mastering his ability to time travel through his spatial jumps.

But when Five's eyes first laid themselves on Octavia up close he felt an unfamiliar sense of intrigue consume him. The boy was quick to disregard it as natural curiosity in response to seeing another human being after the considerable amount of time he spent alone.

Octavia didn't look like any girl Five had known before. She looked like what you'd expect from someone who had survived the apocalypse this long. Her skin and clothes were dirtied. A slightly beaten, oversized green cargo jacket covered most of her young yet malnourished physique. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled back into two braids that hung next to her neck and effectively kept it out of her face.

What surprised Five the most about her however, was the way her lips had suddenly curled into a laugh, a bubbly girlish laugh which was unlike anything Five had ever heard before.

"I really am sorry!" She spoke between a gentle laugh which made Five's ears flush under the aviator helmet he wore.

"I haven't exactly mastered the whole 'levitating your captors' trick yet." She continued.

"Yeah, I'd say you don't quite have it down yet," Five responds with a scoff, raising a brow as he looks at her hands which she was unknowingly flexing and contracting. This was a common mannerism of Octavia's which occurred after she manifested her powers, it was a way to release the built up energy that resided in her palms once she conjured a forcefield.

"How did you do that...?" Five asked, his voice more docile now. There was no residue of impertinence, his question was sincere.

"The 'bubble' thing?" Octavia replied playfully, recycling his little insult from earlier.

"Yeah." He said dryly.

"I've always been able to do it, ever since I can remember." She replied honestly.

"When's your birthday?" Five asked suddenly, the question puzzled Octavia immensely as she tried to determine the relevance of his question. Five however was stunned by the occurrence of finding someone else with a supernatural ability outside of his siblings. As the boy eyed her appearance he realised that she had to be no older that himself, unless she had coincidentally time travelled to the future, which he highly doubted, this girl must have been born years after October 1st, 1989. "Why? Do you want to know my star sign?" Octavia teased, she tried to find the humour in his abrupt and seemingly random question.

"Answer me damn it, when were you born?!" His voice was stern and Octavia was even more confused by his bizarre infatuation with her birthday.

"Jesus fine! It's June 20th 2007." She caved just to shut him up.

"Shit..." Five muttered to himself, almost in disbelief. There was no conceivable way that Octavia could have been one of the forty three supernatural children which Five himself was a part of. She was technically born eighteen years before him, so the chance of meeting someone who also had supernatural abilities was next to impossible, or so he believed.

"So you were... you were young when this all happened, huh?" He spoke up, trying to swiftly redirect the conversation.

"Yeah. I was twelve." Octavia confirmed and Five is painfully quiet, his eyes still examining her with an intense precision like that of a scientist, "What about you?" she asked softly.

"Thirteen." He admitted.

"Only a year older, huh?" Octavia concluded, and Five mentally winced at the complicated situation. Hypothetically yes, he was only one year older than the girl in front of him, however, he was also born almost two decades before her. This was such a mind fuck for Five.

"I guess you could say that." Five shrugged, trying to deflect the possibility of this conversation going any further.

"So you're fifteen?" Clearly his attempt didn't work.

"Correct. Which makes you fourteen now?" Five indulged her.

"Also correct." Octavia shot back and Five had to bite back a small smirk at her sharpness.

"You know, you interrogated me about my name so I think it's only fair that I ask yours." Five figured that he might as-well be polite and ask the name of the bubble conjuring girl who both mildly irritated and intrigued him.

"Octavia." She declared and Five felt his stomach tighten at each syllable that left her mouth. It was an uncommon name, Five certainly couldn't talk when it cam to abstract names but something about Octavia sounded so eloquent, almost old fashioned even. Although he didn't see much of the future as he jumped forward in time he assumed that it was defiantly not a common baby name for someone born in 2007.

"I would say it's a pleasure to meet you Octavia, but these aren't exactly the most pleasurable of circumstances." He said, the formality and authenticity of his voice made Octavia avert her gaze from his own, almost shyly.

"It certainly isn't..." She agreed.

There was a prominent silence between them until Octavia spoke up.

"Sorry for trapping you by the way. I should have known you weren't a fan of bubbles." Five was caught off guard by her genuine apology.

He then replayed the past few minutes in an attempt to put it into perspective, and in all fairness, he was the one with the hunting rifle strapped to him.

However, as Five thought to himself a mischievous idea weaved its way into his mind. He was ready to even the playing field between them.

"It's fine, those were just your flight or fight instincts. Like how mine would be something like this if you didn't trap me first..." ​​Before Octavia could even respond to Five's cryptic response, he suddenly erupted into blue light before her.

He shifts in a split second. Instead of being several feet in front of her he was now only mere inches away. Five looked rather satisfied with himself, a cheshire grin dripping from his face as he watched Octavia's face morph from shock to that of confusion.

"Holy shit!" The girl jumped back in sudden surprise at his sudden manifestation. She stumbled backwards onto her rear, she hit the rubble covered ground and watched as Five let out a small but genuine laugh at her reaction. The boy had missed the dramatic reactions of surprise which he gained from people whenever he used his power. He took a small step closer as he stands over her, looking down with a dry smirk.

"Not feeling so intimidating now, are you?" Octavia watched in disbelief as he extended a hand out to help her up off of her ass. She takes it gratefully although she should have been mad at his little prank, she was fascinated by his own supernatural ability. Five lifted her back to her feet and was slightly stunned at the feeling of another humans skin gracing his own.

Although Five wore a battered pair of fingerless gloves he could feel Octavia's skin against his own, she was warm to his touch. He noticed the way her fingers clasped around his as he helped her to her feet. He admired the callouses which she had evidently earned from surviving this long by herself.

"So you're like me?" She asked and Five retracted his hand, the lingering feeling of her skin on his was plaguing him still despite the loss of contact.

"More or less." He said bluntly, not wishing to elaborate more.

"Wow, sorry." Octavia said shakily, still trying to process everything. "I'm just a little shocked, my whole life my parents told me that I wasn't like other kids and that nobody could know about my ability. But here you are..."

"Alive and breathing," Five said smugly.

"Wait. if you can teleport... Why didn't you just teleport out of my force field?" She asked, smirking slightly as she watched Five roll his eyes.

"You didn't think I tried that, smart ass? It seems you have complete control of the energy in your little bubble, including that of your captors, meaning I was rendered powerless." he retorted "and I don't teleport, that's such an amateur word for something so technical! I prefer to call it spatial jumps, it's the precise manipulation and calculation of spatiotemporal boundaries which I can manoeuvre to get from point A to B-"

"Wow. Nerd alert." Octavia can't help but scoff in amusement at his scientific explanation of his powers. She then proceeded to laugh even harder at the way his eyes squinted in irritation at her reaction.

"You little shit..." He replied at her display of immaturity.

"So, Five, how have you made it this far?" Octavia felt his anger brewing and quickly changed the topic of conversation and gestured to him, referring to his well equipped getup.

He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a small shrug, turning his gaze back to her.

"I just... did," He responds, unbothered with providing anything more.

"I just did." Octavia mocked his ambiguous response, changing the pitch of her voice to sound more serious and stoic, like Five. She felt his eyes glare daggers at hers in response to the childlike mimicry.

He stepped forward now, looking even more annoyed than before. Nobody had tested Five like this, not since his youth when his siblings were still around.

"Watch it." He warned in his typical dry tone which Octavia was starting to grow acquainted with the more he spoke.

As Five stepped forward Octavia quickly manifested her power again, a rectangular shield emerged just in front of the boy as he began to walk towards her.

"Or what?" She said as he walked straight into the shield. The scene before her had reminded Octavia of those embarrassing moments when you would accidentally walk straight into a glass sliding door.

"Oof-" Five grunted as he walked face-first into the force field, nearly toppling backward at the unexpected collision. He stumbled backwards several steps, rubbing the centre of his face where he just collided right into her shield. He looked back at Octavia, a somewhat annoyed but less menacing glare was painted in his green eyes.

"That wasn't funny." He mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Oh come on, that was pretty funny to me." Octavia deactivated the forcefield and she held her stomach as a deep genuine laugh left her lips. It was probably the hardest Octavia had ever laughed during her whole two years of being stuck in the apocalypse alone.

She didn't notice it then but Five's expression had softened for a fraction of a second as she laughed, the reverberation of her voice had filled the otherwise barren space.

And there it was again, that disgustingly unrecognisable feeling that consumed the deepest pits of Five's stomach.

Her laughter had stood out the most to Five, stunning him slightly although he would never admit it in that moment. Octavia's voice was bright and melodic, it didn't irritate him in the same way that Klaus's laughter had when he stole from Allisons wardrobe and proceeded to be chased by her through the mansion, taunting Allison with her favourite skirt. But now, the apocalypse for himself had been characterised by the sound of despair, from the burning debris to the deafening silence.

Octavia's laughter juxtaposed everything else desolate and decrepit which he had become accustomed to hearing after all this time. It was so full of life.

Five then understood why people often referred to others' laughs as being infectious. Octavia's laughter had ignited something, this unfamiliar warmth and queasiness started in his abdomen and soon expanded out into his bones and through to his skin. He felt it everywhere and he hated it. Was this just a symptom of the adrenaline? it had to be.

Five quickly broke away from his thoughts and returned to his traditional, irritated demeanor.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" He asked, taking another step towards her again. A small part of him knew he'd probably walk into another force field again, but he was a little too mad to care right now.

"Hey, give me a break. You're the first person I've seen in how long... like what... two years?" Octavia asked, her laughter subsiding and Five finally felt like he could somewhat relax.

"Have you been by yourself for two years?" Five was curious at her revelation, eager to know if she too had spent the last two years in solitude.

"Yeah. Since day one." Octavia explained. Five noticed a distant look which painted her eyes as if she was recalling the first day she had realised she was alone in this concrete hells-cape.

"And you've made it this far?" Five asked softly and he mentally cringed at how patronising he sounded, he didn't mean for his question to sound that why. The truth was Five was incredibly impressed that she had endured two whole years by herself, finding enough food, water, shelter and even fighting off sickness.

Surviving an apocalypse was no easy feat, Five knew that all too well.

"What? Do you not think that me and my bubbles could have lasted this long?" Five was silent for a moment. Of course he didn't think that, in actuality her power would be incredibly resourceful for the conditions the both of them found themselves in. Five struggled to articulate a defensive statement to her teasing but Octavia spoke up again before he could formulate anything worth saying.

"Do you have a group or something?" She asked and Five subconsciously thanked her for changing the topic.

"No. I'm alone." He admitted.

"Well, I guess that makes two of us." Octavia crossed her arms over her chest before she spoke again, "Your powers.. Are they the reason you survived the initial impact too?"

"Yes." Five looked down at the ground as he answered. He wasn't technically lying, he had survived the destructive impact of whatever ended the world because he had spatial jumped too far into the future. That could theoretically be interpreted as him using his powers to survive the mass extinction of all of humanity, right?

He just simply twisted the truth, that's all. Besides, there was no way Octavia would know if he was lying or not.

"You're a boy of few words, Cinco." She retorted and Five shot his gaze back up towards her.

"God- please don't call me that." Five groaned. The nickname not only irritated him but it was the very title his brother, Diego used to call him and hearing it fall from Octavia's lips was painfully nostalgic.

"Can you blame me?" Octavia shrugged and Five clicked his tongue.

"So... what were you doing out here?" She asked, gesturing to the mountain of concrete behind him.

"Looking for food, what else?" Five explained, his voice straightforward and apathetic.

"Fair enough, we all have to eat. Although I don't think you're gonna find much in that pile of concrete." Octavia wasn't judging the boy for his attempt at searching for resources, more so where he was looking. The landscape before them was nothing but grey desolate rubble.

"Well, I can't exactly afford to be picky, can I?" Five rationalised.

"Touché." She said in an approving tone.

Five didn't exactly know how he should continue the conversation as an elongated silence is exchanged between the two of them. Octavia tried to look anywhere but Five's piercing green gaze as the absence of noise consumed them. Although Octavia had been weary to the boy as a potential threat, she couldn't find it in herself to depart from him so quickly. As for Five, he couldn't extract or define the unknown inquisitiveness that overwhelmed his thoughts. He was standing before another living, breathing human and he couldn't quite believe it, these weren't the rotting bodies he had found buried under the remnants of the city.

Five did not want to depart from her presence so quickly, and he hated it.

"Hey.. I have some baked beans I found not too long ago, you're more than welcome to have some. If you want, that is?" Octavia offered and Five had to replay her voice in his head to ensure what he was hearing was correct.

"You're seriously willing to share your food with me during the apocalypse?" He pointed to himself, his head tilted in disbelief. Was this girl actually offering her own food to him despite trapping him in a bubble only mere moments ago?

"Look, do you want food or not?" Five panicked at her question, like she was threatening to take away the prospect of food so quickly.

"Yes." He said sharply, not caring how desperate he sounded in that second. However, Five felt his face begin to grow warm again when Octavia let out a small giggle at his eagerness.

He despised how easily she could get under his skin.

"Okay, just promise not to murder me on our walk back to mine?" She began to adjust the backpack she had resting on her shoulders and Five took that as the cue that they were leaving.

"If I wanted you to, you would be dead already." Five said proudly. Although his words were grim they carried a weight of truth to them, he probably could have killed Octavia instantly once she freed him from her bubble, but why would he want to do that? Not when he had been alone for so long already.

Even if Octavia was incredibly infuriating there was something about her wit and charm that Five found slightly familiar, somewhat comforting even.

"That's reassuring." She said sarcastically.

"I promise I won't try anything. Cross my heart" Five said, sounding so sincere that it was almost jarring to Octavia.

"Hope to die?" She asked warningly. Five raised a brow at her childish question that he believed to only exist on the school yard.

"You're hilarious. But yeah, cross my heart, I won't kill you. I promise." He shoved his hands in his pockets as they began to walk with Octavia leading the way.

"Watch out, I might just have to bubble you again if you try anything." Octavia held out her hands playfully mimicking how she would manifest her powers. Five rolled his eyes and subdued a small smirk that formed on his face.

"Hey, I always keep my word!" He was almost offended at her skepticism, however he didn't blame her, they were still strangers.

"I'm holding you to it, Five." She replied, looking back to face Five, throwing him a small smile.

[highwayorgantrade]

Baptized By Fire (I)

Pairing: Ghost x (F)Reader

Request: Nope :)

Story Summary: Reader loses themselves to the mission - Ghost brings them back.

Chapter Summary: On your first specialized mission with Ghost and Soap, you were praying for everything to go right. Whether the idea was a sick joke or naivety, you did what you had to do to survive. Unfortunately, all actions have consequences.

Word Count: 2.8k

Song/Playlist:

Author's Note: Reader's callsign is Corpse! I got the idea for this fic by some ad I saw with these really cool titanium fangs, so I saw that and I was like yo lemme steal that rq so yeah I imagine reader having those but I don't really think it's necessary to the story! This is gonna be my first multi-chapter thing so I hope I can get everyone hooked bc LORRRDDDD the amount of stuff I have planned for this!

"When did intel say this guy was going to show up?" Soap grunted next to you, his rough voice teetering on the edge of being whiny. You knew the answer, everyone did. Three hours ago, a truck loaded with international weapons smugglers should have pulled outside of the house that you were sheltered in. The town had seen its last inhabitant months ago, right when this group began using it as a trading post. You were supposed to be in exfil by... Now, actually.

Ghost had parked himself in a barely-lit corner of the room, leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. You wondered, every so often, if he was actually asleep, but when he ran through the motions of checking his gun, you were reminded of exactly who he was. Ghost would never fall asleep on a mission, no matter how late it was running.

"I'm going up to the second floor." You finally sighed. "Gonna see if I can scope anything out." You used to opportunity to stretch your legs - you had stayed crouched for so long, and the cold simply was not helping. And the longer you were in the presence of Ghost, the more your mind ran wild, and the overwhelming desire to impress him got worse and worse as time went on. Soap said nothing, and Ghost simply nodded at you.

Well, good enough.

The stairs were old, and it felt like they were screaming your presence when they creaked under your footsteps. As you walked past, the memories that this house once held were clear at every footstep. Picture frames of the family, forgotten behind, had dust collecting on the frames, and various pieces of artwork littered the walls, varying from classic Kahlo to children's messy fingerpainting. You pushed the door to each room open, trying to buy time by yourself. Each room was more or less the same - dresser, bed, window. Maybe a tapestry here and there.

You kneeled in front of a large, busted out window at the end of the hall, pulling binoculars out of your bag, and settling in. You held the binoculars up and sighed. Still the same landscape you've been staring at for the past three hours. The same faded market signs, dead outdoor plants and... Different SUV. You don't remember that being there, parked in an alleyway between two businesses. The windows were tinted dark, almost completely blacked out, so the hope of seeing anything inside was dashed.

The low, hushed voices of Soap and Ghost downstairs met your ears. You should tell them about the car. See something, say something, right? Part of you slightly resented the connection they had, but they've been working together for years. Countless missions and days together. These were your early days in Task Force 141, and this was your third mission with them. First mission using a specialized group like this, which is exactly why is was extra important that you didn't fuck up.

An uneasy feeling locked in your chest, and you stood, electing to rejoin the two of them. You shouldn't be alone, especially if a fight was about to break out.

"Contact!" Ghost's rough voice cut through the quiet, and almost as if on cue, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around your mouth and torso, setting off every single danger alarm your body had. Your vision darkened from the panic, and your desperate attempt to free yourself was going mostly unnoticed. The small point of pressure in your back told you that the barrel of a gun was pressed into your spine.

"Stop fucking fighting. They're not coming for you." A low, vaguely Eastern European voice growled into your ear before pulling you back into a random room. It was familiar, one of the parent's rooms, you'd assumed.

How did they get in? How the fuck did they get in without you noticing?

The window. The busted out windows in every room of the house. They came around the back entrance, and Ghost and Soap are about to be ambushed. Your eyes widened at the realization, and the man in front you smiled. Your target. This was him. Along with three other men, your outlook did not look good.

Panic clawed its way into your throat, but nonetheless, you made an effort to keep your face as stoic as possible. Your target leaned against the now-shut door of the room, and the sound of gunshots was echoing throughout the house.

"You are the one they call Corpse?" He looked you up and down, and gestured to one of his men. "Take her gun. And the knife. Scream, and I'll kill you and your friends." They followed his direction immediately, and the hand that was once around your mouth was removed. "Do you understand the situation you're in?" He was speaking to you like you were a child, and anger licked at your chest. Yes, obviously you understood the situation. You were trapped, with no chance of fighting, no weapons, and no way to communicate. You felt like a cornered dog, surrounded by people you know would kill you in a heartbeat.

You simply nodded, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek so hard, the metallic taste of blood was leaking into your throat.

Your target walked around the room, almost casually, and he smiled at the floor.

"There is a way for you to walk out of this alive, you know." He stopped, his back to the window. "Your force is rather... Mysterious. You come with us, and answer my questions. Any question I have, willingly. You'll be answering either way. The only question is how I'll be able to get you there." He smiled at you, like you two were having a pleasant conversation about world affairs.

The memory of Ghost's voice echoed in your head. "Don't let anyone take you to a second location. No matter what they are promising, they will kill you."

They will kill you. They want to kill you. They will hurt you. They will hurt Ghost and Soap, and who knows who else. You felt like a cornered animal, and all you could hear were gunshots and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You spoke for the first time in a while, and your own voice was unrecognizable to you.

"Fine."

And with that, your vision went black.

"See any more?" Soap's ragged breathing cut through his words, and Ghost's eyes were still trained on the street. Enemy bodies littered the world outside, and his vision was still adjusting to the world outside the scope of his rifle.

"No movement." Ghost finally put his weapon down, slightly grateful that the mission was over so they could all finally go back to base.

"Would've been easier with some fuckin' help." Soap grumbled, and cast a glance up at the stairs where he last saw your retreating back. Ghost didn't take a second thought about you going to scope out the landscape, he knew you were nervous around him, and in his chest, he felt a pang of regret. He could've been nicer to you, talked to you a little bit more, but he simply had no idea how to navigate his feelings around you. You simply showed up to base one day, and that was that for him. At first, he thought you were... Slightly aggravating. How easily you became friends with the Task Force, the sunshine that radiated out of you... He figured that you must not have seen that much war if you were still that damn happy.

It was difficult for Ghost to accept that he was wrong about your skills. At the firing range, in hand to hand combat, in everything, you were just ever-so-slightly better than him, and he tried to let some of his feelings known through the small things, like allowing you to enter a room before him, or simply sitting next to you during debriefings.

A resounding thud pulled him out of his thoughts, and immediately, his head whipped toward the direction, his heart sinking in his chest.

"Corpse, status!" Soap shouted, and his command was only met with silence. Before Ghost could think, he was on his feet and creeping up the stairs silently, his weapon at the ready. Soap followed closely behind, knowing that if Ghost was doing this, it was for damn good reason. A noise echoed through the house, and out onto the street, and both men stopped dead in their tracks. A scream, so guttural, animalistic, and angry pierced the air, and it chilled Ghost to the bone. He had heard a lot of noises during war, but none he heard were like this.

Of all the doors in that hallway, only one was closed, and Ghost nodded toward it. Soap and him stood on opposite sides of the door, and Ghost's heartbeat was racing as he thought about what could be on the other side of this door. You could be injured, dead, or worst of all, gone altogether. The door creaked open, and the sight that lay in front of them caused Soap and Ghost to freeze.

You were standing over four dead bodies, carnage spread around the room. Your uniform was covered in blood, and your hands and face had the same fate. Blood dripped from your chin, and your teeth were bared, a low noise emitting from your mouth as your chest rose and fell rapidly. The one fact they couldn't ignore: Every single body in that room had their throats shredded into oblivion.

"Corpse?" Soap spoke softly, the horror in his voice being poorly masked, but Ghost couldn't take his eyes off you. You were shaking, and the usual light that was in your eyes was gone, replaced by brutality and viciousness. Ghost handed his gun to Soap, wanting it clear out of the way if you decided to attack him as well. He stepped forward, the bottom of his boots leaving bloody footprints on the way to you. His grip on your chin forced you to look at him.

"Corpse, snap to. Come back, soldier."

"Corpse, snap to. Come back, soldier." Ghost's voice was the only clear thing in your mind, and you felt like you had just woken up from a very long nap. Your mind was hazy, and you focused on Ghost's eyes searching yours for any hint of remaining humanity. The last thing you remember: The target advancing toward you with a knife. That was it.

"Ghost, I- The target-" Your voice shook, and you finally took note of your surroundings. The target in question was long dead, sat against his wall, and his neck- "Oh, my God." As soon as your eyes set on the carnage in the room, Ghost wrapped his hand around your arm and began pulling you.

"No, don't look. Don't look." His hand came around your eyes, so the only think you could see was a slight hint of the blood-stained floor. Soap said nothing as Ghost led you out of the room, down the stairs, and into the freezing air. When you were outside, Ghost unclipped your helmet, and Soap rounded the corner.

"What the fuck was that massacre, Corpse?"

You wracked your brain for a good explanation, a hint of any memory that would allow you to explain something that you simply cannot remember, and you came up dead empty.

"I- I don't know, I can't remember." Your voice was small, almost lost to the wind blowing through the town. You had never seen Soap upset, and his response certainly wasn't helping your confusion.

"You don't know?" He looked at you incredulously. "You don't know how you... You tore open their throats?"

"No! I don't know! I can't remember!" You wished you could lie to him. You wished you could remember any minor detail of what happened, but after the target came at you, the only thing you remember is Ghost bringing you back.

The bright headlights of a familiar van approached, and you jumped at the sudden brightness.

"Soap, that's exfil. Get in the car and tell them to wait." Ghost's low tone was commanding, and Soap could only sigh and place himself in the passenger seat, undoubtedly already coming up with a mission report.

"Corpse, focus on me." Your eyes left the van, and Ghost had placed himself directly in front of you, so there was nowhere to look but in his eyes. "Do you or do you not remember what happened?" The intensity at which he spoke made you want to cry, the fear of disappointing him feeling real.

"No, I- I don't remember anything. All I can remember is him coming at me with a knife, and the other three guys, they said they would hurt you and Soap, and they wanted to take me somewhere else, but you told me to never go to a second location, and I just... I don't know."

"Hush, love, I believe ya. Did they hurt you?" His hand moved to grasp your bicep, and you looked down at the ground.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure."

Ghost sighed, and looked back at the vehicle.

"Right, then. We'll get ya checked out, just in case, okay? Come on." He began walking, but stopped when he realized you weren't following him.

"Ghost, did I-" You took a shaky breath, your question stuck in your throat. "Did I fuck up? Am I going to be kicked out?" Ghost stared at you, your question hanging in the air, until he took a step toward you.

"Corpse, you killed our target. And then some. You won't be kicked out for completing a mission. Price might tell you have to see some kind of psychiatrist or therapist, but that's it. That's all, I promise. Now, you're going to get in the van, we're going to go back to base, and you're gonna shower. Get to."

There was no arguing with Ghost, you knew that. You knew he was right, but that still didn't stop the little fire of annoyance lighting in your chest, and it was made worse that you didn't know what you were annoyed more by - The fact that he was so confident about the hypothetical outcome, or the thought of having to re-explain the situation to your Captain. You sighed as you wrenched open the back door of the car, the copper scent of your actions filling the enclosed space.

The ride back to base was quiet, the radio occasionally tuning in to a random station, speaking in a language you had no hope of understanding. The sun had begun to rise on the horizon, an orange glow cast on the landscape, and you sighed at the sun hitting your face, the feeling unmatched after being submerged in darkness for what felt like forever.

A few hours had passed, and Soap's snoring in the front seat was almost peaceful. You hadn't dared sneak a look at your Lieutenant - you weren't sure what curdled your heart more, the thought of him staring at you in disgust or disappointment, or worse, not at all. When the car passed through the security checkpoint for the base you called home, you couldn't seem to focus on one problem or thought at a time. Finally, the car stopped, and the growling engine cut off. Ghost gave Soap a rough shove to his shoulder, startling the man awake.

"Soap. Go." Ghost's voice seemed almost impossibly rougher after staying silent for hours. Soap cast you a remorseful look before exiting the vehicle, along with the driver. Anxiety held its place in the base of your throat, the scent of blood suddenly was drowning you, and your hands shook as you began to fidget with the seatbelt latch. "Corpse. Captain wants to speak with you."

Ha. You're fired. You're so fired. Your one passion, the one thing you know you were born to do-. "You're not in trouble. He just wants to know what happened." Ghost sighed, and pressed his thumb into the latch, releasing your seatbelt. "Damn it, soldier, fuckin' look at me when I talk to you." His voice immediately took on a harsher infliction, and you stared up at him, reminded of what exactly your relationship is to him - he is a Lieutenant, you are a Sergeant. Nothing more. "Obviously..." Ghost's eyes looked you up and down. "Get showered first." Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke.

"Yes, sir." When your boots made contact with the ground, it felt like the weight of... Everything collapsed on your shoulders. The sun felt too bright, your gear heavy and sticky, and Ghost's eyes boring holes into the back of your head all combined into the worst storm possible. You shook your head, your own eyes trained on the ground in front of you as you walked to your barracks. Just keep it together until you're alone. All you have to do is make it to your room. That's all. Don't fall apart until you're there.

Do not fall apart until you're there.

[kimosims]

The winter air was sharp and clear, crisp with a touch of frost that painted the garden in a delicate shimmer. Florence pulled her coat a bit closer around her shoulders, glancing toward Albert, who sat beside her on the old stone bench that overlooked their snow-dusted landscape. He had insisted, almost pleaded, for her to remain indoors, worried about the chill lingering in her frail state. But Florence, with her subtle gentle stubbornness, had persuaded him otherwise; she knew that once she shared her news, he’d likely forbid her from stepping outside until she was either fully recovered from this illness or until their child was born—whichever came first.

Albert was recounting the details of his newest project with animated pride, his gaze shining as he spoke of the goods being prepared for the Duke von Baden. Florence listened, nodding and smiling at all the right places, but today, it was only half genuine. Her heart beat anxiously beneath her composure, and she felt herself sinking into a sea of uncertainties with each breath she took. She was often reminded of the early days of their courtship, the way Albert had once pursued her, words soft and full of warmth, trailing her through that summer garden with a gentleman’s grace. And though he remained a devoted husband, years of marriage had placed a quiet distance between them. She, too, was absorbed with the rhythm of managing the household and their children, while he poured himself into his art to provide for them, each absorbed in their responsibilities, growing in parallel yet at times apart.

As she stole a sideways glance at him, her thoughts spiraled: What if he didn’t receive this well? What if this child, whom she already felt a rush of love for, was welcomed with less excitement than their others? What if they didn’t have enough for the renovation? What if… Her worrying train of thought faltered, interrupted by the gentle, concerned voice beside her.

“My love?” Albert asked, eyes soft and searching her face. “Are you feeling unwell? I knew we should have stayed inside.”

Florence shook her head, managing a small smile. “No, no, dear, it’s not that,” she reassured him softly. Her hand sought his, fingers tightening around his familiar warmth. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I… I have something to tell you.”

Albert leaned closer, his entire attention fixed on her. She closed her eyes briefly, savoring the moment, then exhaled the words she had held close to her heart. “Albert, I’m expecting our fifth child.”

His eyes widened, filling with the kind of joy she hadn’t seen in them for what felt like years. Before she could finish her sentence, he was beaming, his hands enveloping hers as he showered her with a flurry of delighted kisses, tender yet filled with energy and care. Her heart melted as she laughed, mirroring his happiness, the relief so overwhelming it brought a rush of tears to her eyes.

“Are you certain this is good news?” she asked.

“I can hardly imagine anything better than this, my love!” He took her hands in his, giving her such a genuine look of joy that it left her breathless. She blinked, trying to still her happy tears, feeling lighter than she had in days.

“But, and the house?” she murmured, worry creeping into her voice again. “We’re running out of space. The girls… they’re growing up so fast. And Daisy will soon join them, leaving little room left for Rowan…”

Albert’s gaze softened, and he reached up to brush a stray tear from her cheek. “We’ll find a way. We always do.” He smiled, warm and reassuring. “Florence, my dear, I never want to be a source of worry for you. I know this won’t be easy, and it’s time we think about proper help for the household. But that’s something I’ll take care of.”

Florence shook her head, placing a hand over his. “Not alone, Albert. It’s a concern for both of us.”

He nodded, and they sat in the quiet of the garden, the pale winter sun casting a gentle light over them. “I love you,” he whispered, the warmth of his words a promise that seemed to chase away the cold around them.

“And I love you,” she replied, her voice barely above a breath.

[youssefguedira]

wrote this instead of doing any of my actual tasks <3 tw for brief mention of animal death (by hunting)

Yusuf has been dreading this since the moment they left for Akkala. He had made as many excuses as he could to stay in Goron City for as long as he could, but every one had run out in the end, and he could no longer put off the inevitable. 

The first time he had walked this road, his father had accompanied him with a platoon of guards, still cautious, still reeling from the attack that had taken Yusuf's mother. The second time there had been fewer, but still many. 

In the years after that, the number of people sent with him had decreased even further until it was only two or three guards, enough to keep him safe. His father stopped accompanying him on these journeys after he turned fourteen and there had been no sign of their worth. 

Now, only Nicolò. 

He follows, keeping a respectful distance away from Yusuf, but closer than he had walked before they had gone to meet Nile, to ask for her help. He doesn't ever ask to stop, or to slow down, letting Yusuf set the pace. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword and does not speak. 

What is there to be said? Nicolò knows what lies at the end of this road, even if he does not know what it will mean for Yusuf. 

Yusuf can feel Nicolò's eyes on his back. It is bad enough that the whole kingdom knows he is a failure: he does not need Nicolò to watch him fail and say nothing. 

The sun is low, casting the landscape in burnt orange. It would be beautiful were it not so horribly familiar. There is a cabin nearby, and not far from it, the Spring. They will stay in the cabin tonight; they will leave for the Spring in the morning and spend three days there, then return to Goron City and after that, the castle. 

Yusuf thinks about returning, about his father's inevitable disappointment, and feels sick. 

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, sounding uncertain. He is not yet used to calling Yusuf by his name. “We are not far, yes?” 

Yusuf had forgotten that Nicolò does not know every cursed inch of this road the way Yusuf does. “No, not far. In a moment you'll see the cabin.” 

Nicolò says nothing. Yusuf glances back just long enough to meet his eyes before looking away. 

What is Nicolò thinking? Yusuf can never tell. 

Yusuf catches sight of the cabin a moment later. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach. 

When they get closer, Nicolò takes hold of his elbow, gentle. It startles Yusuf all the same - he hadn't realised Nicolò was that close to him. 

“Let me go first,” Nicolò says. “To check. But stay close.” 

Yusuf nods, and lingers barely a handspan from Nicolò's back while he surveys first the outside, then the inside, of the cabin. Once he's satisfied, he gestures for Yusuf to enter. 

“You should rest,” he says, and he is being so gentle with Yusuf it almost hurts. Perhaps Andromache has told him what this will mean for him: she has accompanied him before. 

Yusuf shakes his head, because sleep means dreams, and dreams will be worse. “What are you going to do?” 

“I am going to find something for dinner,” Nicolò says. 

“Let me come with you,” Yusuf says. Anything is better than sitting in this cabin alone with his thoughts.

Nicolò looks at him for a long moment. Perhaps he takes pity on Yusuf, or perhaps he thinks that it will be easier to keep Yusuf safe if he stays with Nicolò. Either way, he nods. “All right.”

----------

Finding something for dinner means that Nicolò leads Yusuf a little way into the woods, far enough that the foliage and the dying sunlight makes it difficult to see, and bids him hide beneath a tree, in a space formed by the roots, while Nicolò crouches beside him with his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth, seamless motion. From his vantage point, Yusuf can see a small clearing with a few fallen trees.

“Do not move,” Nicolò instructs him in a whisper, “and do not make a sound.”

Yusuf rests his head against the tree and watches the leaves move in the breeze. It is quiet enough that all he can hear is their rustling, the sounds of birds and animals calling to each other, the rushing of the stream nearby. After a moment, and with nothing else to watch, Yusuf begins to watch Nicolò. 

He has gone as still and as quiet as the trees around them, barely breathing, his shoulders rising and falling only slightly, like he has become a part of the forest. Faron Woods is much further south from here, but Yusuf supposes that this forest must be somewhat similar to where Nicolò grew up. He wonders who taught him to hunt; who taught him to be so comfortable in this place. Why he left it behind to travel to the castle and work for the king.

There are a lot of things Yusuf wonders about him. He cannot tell if Nicolò is aware of Yusuf’s watching; he must be. Still, Yusuf cannot help but watch.

It happens faster than Yusuf can track. Nicolò goes entirely still, and draws his bow swiftly, silently. Yusuf holds his breath and so does the forest.

Nicolò lets the arrow fly.

Yusuf doesn’t see whether it finds its mark, but Nicolò looks for a moment and then stands. “Wait here,” he says to Yusuf, and then heads for the clearing. When he returns he’s carrying something behind his back, the arrow in his other hand. Blood drips onto the grass. 

“You can wait inside while I prepare it, if you prefer,” Nicolò says haltingly. Yusuf shakes his head, and so he sits on a log outside while Nicolò skins the rabbit, arms wrapped around his knees and chin drawn up to his chest. Nicolò keeps his back to Yusuf, shielding most of it from view. 

Who taught him this? Yusuf wonders. It is a part of Nicolò he has never seen before.

When it is done, he takes it back inside to cook over the fire, and they eat it alongside the bread and cheese they brought from Goron City, across from each other at the cabin’s little table.

“When do you want to leave, tomorrow?” Nicolò asks softly. 

“I don’t,” Yusuf says before he can stop himself, and then adds, “I don’t know. Early, probably.” The thought bursts the little bubble he’s been in since they arrived. He doesn’t want to leave, could stay here for the three days they’ve been allocated and return to his father without even having tried and it would change nothing. 

“Just after sunrise, then,” Nicolò says. “It is not far, you said?”

Yusuf shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not far.”

----------

The water is freezing.

It has always been freezing. But Yusuf knows well enough that if he stands in it for long enough, it will start to warm. It reaches to around halfway up his thigh; when he was younger, it felt deeper. 

The stone in front of him offers nothing. No sign, no indication that anything is listening to him except for the water and Nicolò, who has been standing at the gate of the Spring for however long he has been in here. Has he been listening? Has he heard Yusuf pleading for something, anything, dreading the moment he returns to the castle and his father looks down at his left hand and sees nothing there? 

What does Nicolò think of him now? If he did not see a failure before, does he see one now? 

His legs may be going numb. They tremble beneath him, struggling to hold his weight. How long has he been standing here? 

“Tell me what I am doing wrong,” he begs the stone. His voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. “I know I am not the one you wanted, but I am trying. I am trying. I have given everything. I do not know how much more I have left.”

The stone says nothing.

Nicolò says, “Yusuf.”

Yusuf hears him without listening, falls to his knees in the water and does not even feel the chill. 

“Please,” he pleads. “I cannot return – I cannot give anymore.”

There is a splash behind him, and then there is Nicolò, pulling him to his feet, pulling him from the water. Yusuf tries to hold fast - he cannot leave now or it will have been three days in the Spring with nothing to show for it. 

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says again. His grip is gentle but unrelenting, and he is warm. Yusuf, shivering as he is, can’t help but lean into it. “You are exhausted. You are going to freeze. Come with me.”

“I can’t,” Yusuf says, even as he lets Nicolò take his weight, lets him guide Yusuf out of the Spring. “I can’t.”

There is a small paved area where their camp is set up. Nicolò has kept the fire going, or restarted it, while Yusuf was in there, and he half-carries Yusuf over to it now. Yusuf’s legs buckle under him the moment Nicolò lets him go, and he sinks onto something soft laid over the paving stones. He blinks, and there is a bowl in his hands, warming even if he does not really taste it. 

“It was never supposed to be me,” Yusuf says without really meaning to. 

From across the fire, Nicolò watches him.

“It was supposed to be my mother,” Yusuf whispers. The only sound between them is the crackling of the fire. Yusuf is so, so tired. He has never said this to anybody else, not even Andromache, but he cannot keep the words from rushing out of him now.

“It came to her when she was nineteen,” he says, “and that’s how they knew it would happen in her lifetime. So she trained, and she mastered it, and we were ready. And then she was killed, and because I was the oldest, it came to me.”

He does not like thinking about this. He has not thought about this in years. They do not speak of it anymore.

Nicolò is still watching him.

“I was asleep when it happened,” Yusuf continues. “I dreamt it as it happened, but I didn’t know until later. The moment she died, I woke up screaming. They told me afterwards that I was– I was glowing, bright enough that nobody could look at me for long or get close enough to see what was happening to me. They just had to wait until I came out of it. It felt like I was burning.” If he closes his eyes, he is there again, twelve years old and terrified.

“That’s how we know it should be me,” he says after a moment. “Who can do it. Because I did, once, but never again, despite all of this.” He waves at the Spring, the water, the stone. 

Exhaustion tugs at him. His eyes will not stay open, but he cannot let himself fall asleep, not yet.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he tells Nicolò. “There’s still time.” It cannot be late yet; the sun has gone down, but it is not quite dark. “Don’t let me.”

“You have to rest,” Nicolò says. It is the first thing he has said to Yusuf since he pulled him from the Spring, and Yusuf cannot tell what he is thinking. 

“I can’t fall asleep,” Yusuf insists.

“At least let yourself warm up first,” Nicolò says. There is a pile of dry clothes in his hands - where did he get them?

Nicolò convinces him to change and to sit back down, to rest a little while longer. This time he  steers Yusuf to sit down on his bedroll instead, and Yusuf’s grip on his arm goes tight.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he says again. 

“You cannot go on like this,” Nicolò says. “Sleep, and I will wake you in a few hours’ time.”

Yes, a few hours. That, Yusuf can afford. “Promise me,” Yusuf says, but his eyes are already closing unbidden. 

Nicolò says nothing.

----------

When Yusuf wakes, it is still dark outside, and there is a cloak that is not his own draped over him. Nicolò is crouched over the fire only a short distance away. He catches Yusuf’s eye, but doesn’t say a word.

It all comes crashing back at once: the water, the stone, Nicolò. Yusuf sits up.

“You didn’t wake me,” he says.

Nicolò watches him for a long moment. “You needed the rest,” he says finally. 

Suddenly his consideration stings. “That wasn’t your decision to make. What time is it?”

Nicolò glances at the sky. “It will be sunrise soon.”

Yusuf’s heart sinks. Sunrise means return, means return to the castle and his father with nothing. He gets up, pushes Nicolò’s cloak aside. “You should have woken me.”

Unexpectedly, Nicolò pushes back. “You would have only made yourself ill. You were barely conscious. I would not have done it if–” “That was not your decision to make,” Yusuf snaps. “I am not a child, Nicolò. I am capable of handling myself. I have lost hours.”

Nicolò does not say anything. Yusuf almost wishes he would keep pushing, but he does not. He simply folds himself back into the same blank expression he always carries, and again, Yusuf cannot read him.

“If the sun will rise soon, there is not much use in staying here for much longer,” Nicolò says eventually, quiet. He doesn’t meet Yusuf’s eyes. Guilt twists his stomach. 

Did Nicolò know? Did Andromache warn him? Or was he just worried?

Yusuf nods. 

They pack up their camp in silence, side by side. By the time they set off on the road back towards Goron City, the sun has risen, and the early light turns the world around them to gold.

Yusuf walks, and Nicolò follows behind him, as always.

[ninigummysmile]

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐨

Summary: Your girlfriend needs to stop the car to relieve some of the desire she’s feeling for you

Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.257

Early in the morning the sun shines brightly, giving you the certainty that your family's country house will be great for hiking and entering the lake, which normally has very cold water.

You've taken this road trip many times before, but it's your first time with your girlfriend. Since you were a little girl, you memorized some parts of the landscape and every time you do the route, you check to see if everything is still the same despite the several years that have passed.

When you and Jisoo go on car trips to nearby cities, you already have a road map that you like to follow. You go from the drive-thru to breakfast in the car as you watch the sun get higher and higher as the hours pass, put on your travel playlist (something that when you first went traveling, Jisoo insisted that you make a special playlist to cheer yourself up in the car until you reach your destination), you make small talk and many times you take a nap, even though you say you're going to keep your girlfriend company.

At the moment you just enjoy the traffic-free road, you hum along with the background music as you wait for the next question she's going to ask you.

“Okay, what about that dice game?” you have the intimacy to talk about anything and even if in the beginning you were shy of some subjects, nowadays it is something very natural.

“What dice game?” you have an idea what she's talking about, but you need to make sure it's what you’re thinking.

“The one where you have two dice. One for a body part and one for an action”

“Like, kiss on the boobs?”

“Yeah, like that” she laughs at your example.

“You want to buy? I’ve heard of it, I think it would be cool if we tried it”

“Do you think you would be able to come just from that?”

“I don't know” you shrug. “But I'm sure it must be pretty exciting. Better than the last card game we bought”

“Hey, don't talk like it's my fault” she defends herself. “You were the one who insisted we buy and didn’t have the patience to follow the rules”

“It's because it was too complex! An erotic card game shouldn't have so many rules, the only objective is to feel pleasure and the only thing I wanted to do was lie down and sleep” you laugh.

“Alright” the subject seems closed all of a sudden, until her words escape her mouth without a second thought. “Now I need to buy these damn dice because the image of us playing while you're in that red lingerie won't get out of my head”

“The red one, your favorite… I even think it's the one I'm wearing right now” you smirk.

“Don't do that, baby” she swallows a moan. “I need to focus on the road”

“I didn't do anything, you're the one who gets wet with your own dirty thoughts”

“Because you are the one who induces these thoughts” she replies, taking one of her hands off the steering wheel and placing it on your thigh.

“No way, both hands on the wheel, Jisoo”

“I'm multitasking, I can drive and touch you at the same time” her eyes don't leave the road.

“What kind of touch do you mean?”

“And I'm the one with dirty thoughts, huh?”

“Always with the answer on the tip of the tongue” you mutter and roll your eyes.

“Unbutton your shorts for me, love”

“Are you serious?”

“I will stop at the next exit, but until then I need to prepare you”

“Fuck” your curse is camouflaged by the buttons and the material sliding down your legs.

“Don't take your panties off,” she warns. “Like I said, the red one is my favorite”

She moves her hands up as she massages your thigh and tucks the lacy fabric to the side.

“Hmm” the sound comes from the back of her throat as she feels your wetness.

She collects your discharge to lubricate your clit and makes small circles on it. You sigh and spread your legs to give her more space.

Her finger teases your entrance and enters you at once, she groans low in surprise at the ease with which you swallowed her.

She likes to take her time appreciating every detail of you, whereas you're impatient and like to feel overwhelmed with pleasure and this leads you to move your hips in search of more friction. The second finger is added and your loud moans begin to mix with the music that plays low on the radio.

One of your hands grips the seat belt as if your life depended on it and an avalanche of intense pleasure rushes through you. When you open your eyes, the car pulls to a stop on a small dirt road and is parked near a thicket.

“Back seat, my love” she instructs as she wipes her fingers with her mouth.

With wobbly legs, you take off your seat belt and sit in the back seat, while she sits next to you, you remove your blouse and panties, wanting to give her the satisfaction of your breasts covered by the red material.

She takes off all her clothes and pulls out a double dildo from a backpack that's on the floor in the backseat.

She lays down with her back on one of the doors and you do the same on the other. Lubricating one end in her wetness, she inserts it and is momentarily gasped for breath.

“Come here, angel. Let me help you” she calls you with her voice full of desire and slowly inserts the other end inside you.

You stand still to enjoy the feeling of the dildo tearing you apart from the inside. She moves her hips and moans escape your mouths.

With her head thrown back, she grabs her breasts and says “Baby, I need you to move too. Your pussy is so tight that the fucking fake dick barely moves inside you”

You whimper aloud as much from the pleasure as from Jisoo's uttered words, you know it won't last long and you'll come again quickly.

Your girlfriend pulls you closer and you practically scream when you feel the material seem to touch your stomach. You're lost, dizzy in the oncoming climax, but you can hear her ask between moans “Are you going to come with me?” you nod fervently. “Yeah?” you nod again “So rub that pretty clit of yours for me” she begs doing the same to her own sex.

You are a mess. Sweat pouring from your foreheads, moans being screamed inside the hot car and liquid oozing from both sides of the dildo as you come together, moaning each other's name incessantly.

Your heartbeat finally slows and you hiss as she takes the dildo out of you.

“We better go because we have at least an hour to get there”

“I don't know if I'm able to drive with my legs now, they feel like Jello” she notes with a smile.

“Take your time, love” you kiss her temple. “In the meantime, I'm going to get ready for my nap, enjoy that you made me tired” you laugh in her face and put your clothes back on.

“You're lucky that I love you” she says even though she knew before leaving home that you were going to sleep whether you were tired or not, breaking the promise to keep her company.