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yourtamaki · 5 months ago

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o, come, be buried / a second time within these arms

zoro x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, sex as a form of comfort, fingering, cuddlefucking, creampie, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), cum play, cum eating, violent imagery, bit of aftercare

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there is a storm building inside you.

zoro can see it raging even as you keep your face turned from him. the room dark save for the moonlight that streams in through the open window, just bright enough to spot your outline curled up in bed, covers tucked up under your chin. lines of tension keep your back rigid and shoulders hunched, your breathing shaky and slow as you tell him to leave.

you’re vicious gales and crashing waves wrapped into one, devastating and beautiful.

“you don’t want to be around me right now,” you say, words muffled by your pillow.

“don’t tell me what i want,” he doesn't try to bite back the anger that laces itself through his tone. zoro has never censored himself from you before and he wasn't about to start now.

ire thrums hot in his veins, burning and boiling away beneath his skin. he has always given you every part of himself, heart served in his open, blood-stained palms, for better and most certainly for worse.

the thought of you holding yourself back from him, that there’s a part of you that he’s being denied, sets his teeth on edge. he'd been searching for you all day, prowling around the ship like a caged animal until finally found his way to where his search should have began, the tiny storage room that had become your shared quarters.

“you pissed at me?” he asks.

“no,” you say.

“want me to kill anyone?”

“no.”

it grates on him that there’s no enemy for you to sic him on, no bones to crack, no blood to spill. your pain deserves retribution and he is the blade that would carry it out, if only you would wield him, "then i'm staying."

"zoro, please. just go."

“who do you think you’re protecting by hiding yourself away?” he steps in closer, right to the edge of the bed but makes no move to touch you, “cause it’s not me and it sure as fuck isn’t you.”

you throw a dagger of a glare his way, so sharp it could make a man bleed before he even knew he’d been cut. he doesn’t care. a small price to pay for your gaze.

zoro is too loyal of a beast to flinch away the first time you flash your fangs at him.

you hold his gaze for a moment longer before turning back around to face the wall once more. in your silence, he resolves himself to sitting on the floor by your bedside until he can be of some fucking use to you. zoro would lick crumbs of affection out of the palm of your hand. if the closest you'll let him be to you right now is knelt on the ground, keeping vigil, then he'll take it. he's crouched halfway down when he hears you call for him.

“baby, get in.”

how you have enough sweetness in you to spare him a kind word even when you have none for yourself, he will never understand. zoro takes a moment to pull his swords free from where they hang on his hip, propping them up against the wall where they’ll still be in arm's reach before he pulls back the covers and settles in next to you.

you're cold to the touch despite having been buried under the blanket, dressed only in a simple shirt and underwear and zoro is quick to throw an arm around you and pull you in by your waist until you’re pressed flush against him, his other arm slipping under your head for you to rest on. he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathes you in and for a moment he can almost smell the scent of your hurt lingering on your skin, thick and bitter as blood.

there’s an urge, ever present and never sated, to dig his teeth into the side of your neck and bite down until iron coats his tongue, to taste you, know you, in a way no one else ever has or will. it’s an urge he can only hold at bay by pressing open mouth kisses to your throat and feeling your pulse flutter against his tongue.

you slowly start to melt in his arms, the tension you wore like ill-fitting armour stripping off you piece by piece with every kiss until you’re free from its hold, warm and light.

“better?” he asks, slipping his hand under your shirt and pressing his palm flat against your stomach just to feel it rise and fall, follows the rhythm of it and matches his breaths to yours. the reassurance that you're whole and safe is a cool balm to his worries.

“a little bit,” you whisper.

“but you need more,” it’s hardly a question that needs to be answered, not with the way you’ve started to shift in his hold.

“you don’t have to—”

“i do. i want to.”

and there’s more he could say, he knows there is. pretty poetry to comfort you, sweet nothings to soothe you. but what use would empty words be to you? they can’t hold you, can’t keep you warm, can’t wipe your tears.

zoro can. he will. for you, he’d do anything and everything. all and more.

the room settles into silence, his offer hanging in open air and ripe for your taking. you don't reach out for it, not yet, but zoro doesn't mind. he can wait.

“impatience is a swordsman’s undoing,” his master had once told him a lifetime ago when zoro’s palms were still soft enough to bleed and grief was a companion so new it still stepped on his heels as it dogged his footsteps.

of the two of you, patience has always been your strong suit rather than his. it was your patience that brought you together, when you stepped into his life with a hand outstretched and he met you the same way he met all good things that tried to enter his life, with a snarl and blood stained teeth.

zoro kept you at a careful distance with all the wariness of a distrustful stray, always watching but never getting close. it was you who slowly bridged the gap, gracing him with kindness and company he'd done nothing to earn but gorged himself on anyway.

it was only because of your patience that he knows the bliss of falling asleep and waking up with the warm weight of you in his arms. the least he could do is pay you back with what you've always freely given him. so zoro holds you close and waits.

and waits.

and smiles, sharp and proud, when you take his hand that still rests on your stomach and lower it until he’s cupping you between your legs, the heat of you searing his palm even through your panties.

your hips jerk when zoro doesn’t move, a soft whine catching in your throat when his other arm circles around your chest and holds you still against him, “zoro.”

“i've got you,” he says with a kiss behind your ear, toying with the waistband of your panties before sliding his hand inside.

he slides his middle finger down your slit, dipping his fingertips into the slick heat of your cunt to wet them before drifting back up to where you need him most. there’s no rush as zoro rubs neat, tight circles against your clit, slow and firm even as you buck and try to grind down on him.

he wants you to feel every moment of this, to savour it, to drown in pleasure so deep you never want to come up for air.

another kiss to your throat, one on your jaw and you finally melt back into him, legs spreading just enough for zoro reach lower and start to ease a thick finger inside you.

“there you go, baby, that’s it,” he says, “let me in.”

you swallow him down to his knuckle, trembling in his arms when zoro slips in a second finger and crooks them to rub against the spot that never fails to pull the prettiest sounds out of you.

he shifts, trying to move lower between your legs without pulling his fingers out so he can taste where you’re wet and aching for him but you stop him by threading your fingers through his short strands, keeping him in place.

“what?” he asks, “you don’t want my mouth?”

“no, not— not right now. just stay close. keep holding me. please,” he hates how small you sound.

“i’m here. i’m right here. fucking kills me knowing you were in here hurting by yourself."

"i'm sorry.”

"don’t,” the anger he felt when you tried to send him away rears up once more. an apology is the last thing he wants to hear from you right now, “just find me next time. doesn't matter when or where. you find me. got it?"

“yeah, i got it,” you start rocking back into him, soft ass grinding against his clothed cock, “zoro.”

“i know. i know you want it, baby, but i gotta stretch you out first. can’t fit when you’re this fucking tight.”

your answer is lost in a moan as he eases in a third finger, thumb pressing against your clit. the angle isn’t kind on his wrist but zoro keeps his pace steady, spreading and curling his fingers until you’re soaked and soft and ready for him. he pulls his hand out of your panties, kissing your nape when you whine from the loss before he licks the taste of you off his fingers.

“i'm not going anywhere,” he says, "keep your eyes on me."

zoro waits until you turn in his arms and he has your gaze before he gets out of bed and undresses, leaving his clothes in a pile next to his blades. you sit up to tug your panties down and kick them off, your shirt following soon after.

you’re bare and soft and holding out a hand for him to take. zoro laces his fingers through yours and joins you once more, stripped of his swords, his clothes, and his restraint.

you don't crash into each other so much as you collide into a bruise of a kiss. it aches more than it soothes but the shared pain of it only has him pressing closer to you, your soft tits pressed to his chest, legs intertwined and weeping cock trapped between your stomachs.

he reaches up to cup your cheeks and breaks the kiss to pull back just far enough to take in the sight of you, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. it takes a heartbeat longer than it should for you to focus on him. the storm is still raging inside you but zoro refuses to lose you to it. he stands firm against the buffeting winds that threaten to rip you away from him and swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“still with me?” he asks.

you turn into his touch and kiss the rough centre of his palm, “‘m here.”

"then take what you need, baby."

you slide a hand between your bodies, taking his cock into your hand and guiding his tip to your entrance. even with all the prep, it takes some time to sink inside you, time you spend peppering kisses across his face. he bears them as he bears the scars that litter his body. with pride. with honour.

zoro bottoms out with a low groan, grabbing you under your knee and hooking your leg over his hip to slip in that much deeper. every sense is flooded with you. the wet heat of you wrapped around his cock, the heady scent of your sweat and need swimming around his head, soft skin beneath his palms.

entangled and weaved together like this, heart and breath as one, zoro is drawn into the eye of your storm.

your pleasure is his, your pain his own.

still, clear waters surround you both as he waits for you to adjust. with how closely he watches you, he knows you’re ready even before you wrap both arms around him and start to roll your hips.

he keeps one hand under your knee, the other sliding down your back to rest on your ass, and uses his grip on you to pull you into a slow, dirty grind.

“oh fuck,” you moan as the two of you find your rhythm together. zoro barely pulls out, keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you. you jerk back as he rolls his hips just enough to grind your clit up against his pelvis, his firm hold on you the only thing keeping you pinned in place.

“easy now. don’t run from me.”

time slows to a crawl, every moment yawning and stretching into the next, slow and sweet as honey. you tip forward, closing what little space there still was between you to pull him into a kiss that has all the intimacy of a hard-fought spar, of learning to move together, of missteps and growing pains, of getting the wind knocked out of him only to be pulled right back on his feet.

you’re close, all worked up and sensitive from his fingers, cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as you near your high. zoro chases your pleasure down, a starving mutt set loose upon a feast. he uses the little leverage he has to wrestle you on to your back and fuck into you with short, heavy thrusts.

“c'mon, baby, that's it,” he says, bent low to brush his lips against your ear, “let go.”

he reaches down between you, thumb pressing firm against your swollen clit and you’re gone, swept out to sea as your high crashes down over you in waves. zoro hardly feels his own orgasm rip through him, too caught up in watching you shake apart and be remade in his arms.

all is still as you pant and come back into yourself. your hand slips back into his and squeezes once. he’s not sure whether you’re trying to reassure yourself that he’s still here or that you are but he squeezes back all the same.

“can i eat you out now?”

and for the first time since he stepped into the room, a smile breaks over your face, bright as the dawn sun breaking through an overcast sky. you pull out of his hold, his soft cock sliding out, and settle on your back, legs falling open, “go for it.”

zoro eases himself down between your legs, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, never letting your hand slip free from his. he takes stock of your fresh fucked cunt, clit puffy and hole clenching around nothing, dripping with him. the scent of you, of the two of you, is thickest here, heavy in his nose, and zoro breathes you in with deep, greedy lungfuls, spent cock twitching against his thigh.

he dives in, catching what leaks out of you on his tongue before pulling back and dribbling the mess of cum and spit all over your pussy.

“nasty,” you say and zoro wants to kiss the curl that sits pretty on the corner of your lips. he settles for kissing your clit instead.

“you like it.”

“i like you.”

you wield your honesty with all the ease and carnage zoro wields his swords, sliding it between his ribs and piercing his heart clean through. the pain is lost as he’s distracted by the light pouring in as the moon rises higher into the night sky.

or maybe it’s your eyes that take the pain away because it’s only through them that he notices how bright the moon’s light shines tonight.

zoro devours you, gaze fixed to yours, one hand still holding yours while the other arm keeps your hips pinned to the bed. he takes his time cleaning you up, lapping at your folds until only the taste of you remains. it’s only then that he sucks your clit into his mouth, slipping two fingers inside you to give you something to clench down on.

you are a vision in your bliss, one he has no right to bear witness to. a lifetime of blood and blades and butchery shouldn't be rewarded with the softness of you in his hand and on his tongue. it's not right.

but as you take hold of his hair to keep his mouth pressed flush against your cunt, zoro finds he couldn't give less of a shit if it's right. all that matters is if he does right by you. there's an oath in every broad stroke of his tongue, a vow in every kiss to your clit, to take care of you in all the ways you need, in all the way he knows how.

today and for all days.

your orgasm is a gentle thing that washes over you and steals your breath for a moment, smaller than the first but leaves you just as ruined.

zoro takes his rightful place by your side once more, gathering you up in his arms and running his knuckles up and down your spine.

"thank you," you press a kiss to his cheek, just below where his scar ends. he accepts the kiss but not the gratitude that comes with it.

a hound needs no thanks for fulfilling its nature.

later, he will carry you off to the baths, let you pop open bottles for him to smell that make his nose itch but that make you beam, wash your back, and wait with the patience you’ve taught him for you to share what’s trapped inside your head.

he may not understand, may not have the comfort of words to give you, but he will listen. and he will stay.

but that is for later.

for now, zoro holds you to his chest and watches over you, moonlight and peace washing over you as you catch your breath.

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and loml @saotoru

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader

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i-want-men-i-cant-have · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ꒰ Say ‘I Love You’ ꒱ .

HOW THE FROSTHEIM BOYS WOULD ACT IF THEY HAD A CRUSH ON YOU. ft. jin kamurai, tohma ishibashi, lucas errant, & kaito fuji

wc : 2.5k

warnings : sfw, gender-neutral reader but implied afab for tohma's part

JIN is the definition of a cocky bastard. he acts high and mighty, always getting you to do the most insignificant tasks he can think of, all the while being a completely different person when it's just the two of you.

you have a test you need to study for? forget that. now you have to visit jabberwock to hand milk some beast king seal for his daily cup of tea.

if you're lucky and don't ask too many questions or take too long, you might get a sip. if he's in a good enough mood, he might even pour you a cup to commemorate a job well done. of course, this is rare when he prefers to share an indirect kiss without your knowing.

take a sip and position your lips wherever you want on the cup. he’s always going to put his own directly where yours were.

if he can’t sleep, he’s the type to wake you up at 3 am by phone call solely to have you look out the window to see the moon. he could fall asleep in the known presence of you, so calm and stable. just don't ask him if he’s going sentimental on you or he’ll hang up immediately without even wishing you a word.

don't let these small sweet moments fool you. the second you think he might be catching feelings, you see him out in public, and you’re nothing more than a fly on the wall that needs to be swatted (with utmost care).

even with his on-and-off attitude, he makes sure to become the lifeline you deserve. he can see that the second years don't exactly have the… disposition to take care of you as he could. lucas and the other one can try and protect you all they want, but he’ll be the only one to actually do something. he is the captain of frostheim for a reason.

the second you tell him about someone from his house even raising their voice at you, the best-case scenario is that they get shipped off to dig ditches in the desert for some mission and are gone for so long they have to retake the year.

of course, if you questioned the students' absence, he would wave you off, saying their families were too poor and needed their kids back home to help pay rent.

just remember, no matter how docile he may come off with you, the second someone else enters the room, those walls come shooting back up, acting as if he never caressed your hand, showing you how you could have easily checkmated him before he took out your queen and king all within four moves.

just pray it’s not tohma, or else jin would be taking jab after jab while trying to make him leave his room by any means necessary. all the while the vice-captain filled up your tea, sweet-talking you, and wondering why the door was locked while the two of you were alone all night; something you hadn't even noticed when coming in midday.

just hurry up and confess to jin already so tohma can stop his prying. he's not patient enough to deal with your mixed signals and dilly-dallying.

TOHMA wouldn't even try to cover how bad his excuses for everything were. it’s always going to be 50/50 on how realistic they sound. go fetch this work. go do this and that. he needs to help you study for an upcoming quiz. you need to try out this imported tea. blah, blah, blah.

there had been some minuscule to nonexistent complaints about the formal uniform at the dances and how it should be more elegant. buckle up because this man has ordered the most embarrassing things for you to try on.

the next week, there was a package filled to the brim with luxury clothes on your doorstep. the finest silk materials all adorned your body while he watched, camera and notes in hand. please excuse the quill in his hand writing everything everyone says; that’s just to track your true feelings. oh, the camera? it was for your candid reaction to pair with the pen. you really must work on masking your emotions more; maybe he could help you later.

starting off with a dress for someone your age was a nice start. nothing too sexy or childlike, being more on the modest side. the only skin showing were some ankles, chest, and all of your arms. the next few would be similar, only to ease you into a false sense of security.

somewhere sandwiched in the middle of the modeling session would be dresses tighter and smaller. you felt like your whole body was on display with him, the push-ups on your chest only contributing to your stress. when you asked tohma, he said he had no idea about when he ordered—as if he hadn't done research prior and took quick photos as you came out, pretending to act shocked when he saw the revealing clothing.

oh, the dress has a bit too much skin? well, that’s all the rage from what the female poll said they wanted for their dress uniforms. they did pay for their bodies; they should show them off.

to him, this was your way of opening up to him. if he's already gotten a sneak peek of what you have to offer, then what’s stopping him from seeing the rest? after all, you and he would complement each other so well.

not to mention he would work tooth and nail out of all his free time, dedicating it to figuring out how to get you to confess to him. he would never put his feelings on the line and somehow get rejected by someone like you.

you had to go to a random anomaly library to search for an anomaly book? that’s not too hard.

wrong.

two hours after being stuck in the never-ending location, and a mental breakdown later, tohma already secured the book without your knowledge. now he’s just waiting and making small talk, trying to rip out any piece of information he could use to make you sink your teeth into his hold on you.

both figuratively and literally, you were being brought together. the deeper you went into the library, the closer the shelves seemed to be.

when he had the chance to put the book on the highest shelf, watching the way your face lit up, he almost felt guilty putting this much effort into his plans. but you had to realize your feelings for him, not the other way around.

when you went to grab the anomaly book—along with the massive stack of books it was placed upon—it came avalanching down. instead of being swallowed alive by pages, you were pressed tight against the vice-captain, his shoulder saving you from your doom.

what you didn’t know was how tohma plastered your scent in his mind so he could hopefully find whatever perfume, shampoo, or just your smell somewhere.

LUCA would be the sweetest thing if he liked you. he would, of course, deny these feelings, thinking, or understanding them as platonic.

he would make you feel like you were in a classic, unproblematic, 90s shoujo manga. you could practically see the rose petals following him around whenever he’s with you.

it wouldn’t matter whether he recognizes his feelings or not or if he acts on them; no matter what, you’re going to feel special and wanted.

often, he would find you perusing the halls and randomly start a conversation. he would tell you about the differences between darwick and the uk campus, trying to find a reason to talk just so you wouldn’t leave. sometimes he finds himself purposely getting lost to spend just a couple of extra minutes with you.

he probably has some phone tracking app on you just in case something bad happens. of course, he would manipulate it in his favor—nothing bad, truly just misguided—so he could “accidentally” bump into you.

he’d probably subconsciously check his phone every few minutes hoping you texted him or anything. if you hadn’t seen him in a while due to being stuck at other houses for missions, he would use his favorite app at the moment to send a ‘stay safe!’ message for you to respond to and tell him how it’s going.

when you meet up, whether it be after a class or a whole week, he would, of course, grab your bags and make sure you're feeling alright. your feet hurt? here, get on his back. you have a migraine? here, have some medicine and a nice head massage.

what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t give his friends the courtesy of being comfortable?

he would take you to sho’s food truck, ren’s job, the cafeteria, or anywhere to have an excuse to spend more time with you (same goes for subaru).

100% a gentleman and doesn’t believe in splitting the tab 50/50. he invited you and you took the time out of your busy schedule to meet up with him.

yeah, there’s no way you're pitching in even a cent. he has money and he isn’t afraid to spend it on you.

he will open the doors for you and wait with bated breath as you walk by, thanking him each and every time.

he will treat you how you should be treated. he believes in the golden rule of treating others how you would like to be treated or how they would treat you, and you’ve shown him nothing but kindness. all he can do now is return the favor of being his first friend at this new school.

at one point, when his feelings were developing, he took them to yuri. instead of realizing any feelings, he thought your curse might cause him heartburn, only to be met with the doctor shoving him out and telling him to figure out his feelings before wasting his time on sappy romance.

it's safe to say everyone but luca knows about his feelings for you.

when he did realize his feelings were more than platonic, he cranked up that gentleman's act by one thousand.

you know those classic suave princely characters? that’s him to a t. patient and caring all without acting like a father and instead a friend.

if you did date him, it could only work out. it would be like dating your best friend, but not in an incestuous friendship-type way. an actual budding romance, no strings attached, but true undeterred love.

he would wait until he had completely understood his feelings until trying to make “moves” on you. think of things he’s heard kaito say to girls he’s trying to flirt with. suffice to say it only made you laugh.

instead of forcing you to confess to him like the rest, he’d much rather stake his emotions on the line than yours. he just wants you to be happy, even if it comes in the form of rejection or love. as long as you’re happy, he’s happy, whether that be as friends or something more.

be prepared to just enjoy time with him. if you do or don’t romantically like him back, it doesn’t matter. no matter what, you’re just going to be genuinely happy.

even if he’s not the best at picking up signs or reading people, he’s still going to be making sure you’re enjoying yourself.

his brother has already disappeared; he needs to cherish every moment with you, even if it’s one-sided, as friends, or as lovers.

KAITO'S unofficial love language is making you watch movies to make you fall in love with him.

scary movies? you can cling onto him, squealing into his big, strong, herculean muscles. romcom? maybe that can get you in the mood to stare at his plump lips and share your very first kiss. action? maybe you two can try and replicate a scene and accidentally fall on top of him, staring into his deep cerulean orbs, realizing he was always the one for you, not luca.

he is the most unorganized and delusional of the frostheim boys.

he will probably plan a few minutes in advance and, if not, he will get in his head and forget how to talk to you.

the most he’ll plan ahead of time is explaining how you two need to sleep in a bed together because he can't sleep in a pew of the church.

see, once you two finish binging a movie series, he can sleep and spend the night at your place. walking back is just too hard and dangerous at night, you know? besides, just one night in your small bed wouldn’t hurt. it would just end up with you two waking up in each other's loving embrace, confessing your undying love for each other.

in reality, he was scared he would accidentally fart or kick you as you slept and was too afraid to even move. he slept on the corner of the bed while hiding under the covers, trying to ignore the creepy shadow-like monsters of your room.

he has tried and failed to change his personality to match every single one of your interests, only to fail miserably. trust me, if you post a lot, he will stalk you back to your first-ever post by accident and have a mental breakdown after liking the post.

he wouldn't speak to you for a week after the incident until you liked his first-ever post to somewhat ease the burn.

the same goes for if you see him zoning out on you. do not try and provoke him in the wild as he watches you walk from class to class. if you even make eye contact, he's shriveling up to a prune.

unfortunately, everyone in the area sees him making an effort to stalk you and endlessly teases him for it.

even if he doesn’t necessarily look it, he will protect you. if you even seem somewhat stressed with a mission, he will be running across campus to help you out, no matter what the other house says.

he wouldn’t be a lap dog for you, more so an eager friend. not in a hundred years will he let you be stalked or threatened if someone took an interest in you. not on a yandere level, just a worried friend who would steamroll someone if need be, even if he had to fight. he will suck it up for you.

hopefully, you are genuinely interested in ranting or are a master at tuning things or people out because this man is insane. he will tell you all about his day while saying nothing at the same time.

he will send you his entire for you page and count down the seconds from when he posted to when you liked it. god forbid you take a day or week because you’re busy. if a form of snapchat exists in darwick, your streak will be insane. literally, how you track the number of days you started at the school.

“you forgot to open one.”

#x reader #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb #tdb x reader #frostheim #jin kamurai #jin x reader #tohma ishibashi #tohma x reader #lucas errant #luca x reader #kaito fuji #kaito x reader

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bandgie · 1 year ago

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Hi! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED your Beast of a Man tarzan!smut. Seriously it was so engaging and you wrote him so well (HES SO HOT AGHH). He's such a hot character idk why others don't write about him, I'm starved for Tarzan fics...

Could you please make a part 2 to the smut? You have such a great/smutty idea going I would love to see you continue it!!

It would mean everything to me!

( ^◡^)

a/n: hi yes thank you so much and ofc! it's been so long since I've written smut on Tarzan so please bear with me! (fic anon is referring to here)

synopsis: You have successfully brought back the ape-man for research. Despite behaving like an animal, he's a lot more human in more ways than you originally thought.

warnings: MDNI 18+, recording during sex, oral (m!), 69ing, semi-public oral sex, cumming in mouth (m!&f!), rough throat fucking (f!rec), cum eating (m!&f!)

2.8k words

"Who the fuck is this?!"

Your colleagues screamed and ran upon seeing who, more like what, you brought back to camp. They hopped up on tables and held up papers as weapons. They eyed you both wearily, on the verge of tears as you stood just a few feet away.

"I think that's a bit extreme," you sigh.

The ape-man was beside you, clinging onto your leg like a child would do with a mother. He, too, was very wary around these strangers. You could hear him grunting and pulling at you as if keeping you from getting too close.

Cute yes, but this would mean it would take a lot of work to build trust in the entire group.

Slowly, the fellow researchers began to try and communicate with the man. Talking slowly and softly, just like you showed them to. All of you agreed that this being could be the missing link, the answer to the question anthropologists have tried to find for decades.

It took over a month for everyone to be comfortable around one another, but of course, another issue was raised.

"So does he just not have a name?" Professor Porter asked.

As of now, you all were just calling him 'the ape-man' or 'hey you' to get his attention. It never crossed your mind to give him an actual name.

"We're not gonna name that beast," Clayton butted his way into the conversation. Clayton, as big and strong as he was, seems the most afraid of your new friend. He's hostile, rude, and arrogant. Even if the ape-man cannot understand the words thrown at him, he can feel them.

The best thing to do in these situations was to ignore Clayton, he just loves the sound of his own voice.

"No," you turn your attention back to the professor. "Not that I know of at least. Should we come up with one?"

"Oh great," there's heavy sarcasm laced in Clayton's voice. "Here you are naming a dog you're not even gonna keep."

"With no due respect Clayton, please shut the fuck up," Terk, the youngest of you, speaks. Terk is small for his age, but he has built. A hairy man who's lively, talkative, and one of the natives that live here. He and the ape-man get along well, a little too well sometimes.

Clayton flips Terk the bird.

"A name for him would be nice, yes." The professor looks as though he's sweating from the tense atmosphere. "Do come up with one dear, I think the missing link would rather you do it."

It's no secret that the ape-man prefers you over the other researchers. He's constantly at your hip, following you like you have an invisible leash on him. Your colleagues, however, don't know how close you two actually are.

The conversation stays in your head for the rest of the day. A name. A name. Something everyone has yet is unbelievably difficult to come up with. Hundreds of possibilities run through your mind as you carry out your daily tasks. Even the ape-man, who's used to you ruffling his hair, grows confused about your behavior.

Nightfall comes with everyone in their tents and you still haven't come up with a name.

With a groan, you turn on your side to see the very person who's making you struggle already looking at you. His eyes are dark, but the candle in your tent lights up his features just enough. You reach out and brush a lock of hair out of his face, watching how he moves to try and get you to touch his skin.

You settle with resting the palm of your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it.

"A name," you tsk. You narrow your eyes and let your gaze travel over his body. He needs to look like his name, that's a must. "Hey, do you know what a name is?"

He doesn't answer.

"Something to call you. That's a name. Do you have one?"

He stares at you.

Well, this is going to be harder than you thought.

Pursing your lips, you say the first name that comes to mind, "Edward?"

He reacts to that. His calm expression turns into a scowl, bushy eyebrows coming together. You quietly laugh and shake your head, "Not that one okay."

"Tony?"

He frowns.

"Taren?"

He pouts.

"Okay, okay. I think I got it...Garrett."

The ape-man groans, mimicking the behavior he's seen you do hundreds of times. It shocks you to see him act so human, so you. It's equally adorable as it is terrifying.

He's gotten closer to you, a breath away. The proximity used to freak you out, but you've learned it’s how he shows his affection. His trust.

The ape-man is waiting for you to say a word he likes, a sound that comes off your tongue magically. Judging from your facial expression and earlier absent behavior, this is an important task for you.

You want the name to be strong, versatile, and not easily replaceable. The being you've found is one-of-a-kind, it's only fair his name is as well. You play with a few letters in your head, bouncing them in your mind until you think of one that suits him.

"What about Tarzan then? Do you like that one?"

His pupils dilate, watching your beautiful lips pronounce the word. His word.

"Yes."

You gasp, sitting up abruptly. Your sudden movements make him panic as he sits up with you. He scans the tent to find an intruder while you sit there stunned.

He spoke. The ape-man no! Tarzan just spoke to you. He understood language and used it, even if it was just a mere word. A one-syllable answer that has shaken you to your core.

"Oh my god. You just, Tarzan you just spoke. Holy shit, say it again. I need to capture this on video." You ruffle through your bag looking for your camera.

Tarzan stops searching the tent and looks back at you looking as confused as ever. Like he didn't just display human speech in a mere month.

Quickly, you pull out the camera and hit record, aiming the lens at Tarzan's hard, yet beautiful features.

"Repeat what you just said," you look at him through the monitor. Instead of complying, Tarzan stares blankly into the lens. "Do you like the name Tarzan?" You press.

No answer, his eyes flick from the red light to your eyes.

"Come on! Just tell me whether or not you like the name." You're starting to grow impatient. At this point, you're convinced he's just being an ass.

Finally, he adjusts his seating position. Tarzan glances down at his crotch then back up to you, then back to his crotch. You follow his gaze, trying to understand what he's trying to say. Then it clicks.

Compensation. If you want him to do you a favor, you have to do him one as well.

"Are you being serious?" You sigh at him. Tarzan gives a faint nod to you. Even if he can't do so, you swear you see him smirk. Asshole. Setting the camera down, you angle it towards the two of you. Might as well have fun with it.

You crawl your way towards him, parting his thighs slightly before giving him a playful glare, "You're such a man sometimes."

Unlike before, Tarzan wears cargo shorts rather than a mere piece of clothes from last time. Professor Porter made it clear that if he was to hang amongst you all, clothes were necessary.

They suited him nicely, even now. The way the material hugs his toned thighs, how his cock bulges through the shorts even when he isn’t hard. You couldn't help but run your hands along his muscular legs, finding his crotch.

He groaned as you palmed him, straining to not thrust his hips up. Tarzan learned to be patient with you, especially in the presence of others. Most animals didn't care whether they mated alone or in their pack. Even if Tarzan was raised by those animals, the thought of others hearing the sounds you make for him is repulsive.

Instead, he has to settle for brushing your hair from your face as you undo his buttons. Delicate fingers unzipping the seam until his half-hard cock sprouts in your face.

It doesn't matter how many times you've seen his dick, it makes your pussy quiver every time. All you can think about is how perfectly it stretches you, how the tip slides against your cunt deliciously. Your mouth salivates at the memory, and you let your spit drool off your tongue to land on his cock.

Tarzan loves the sigh. A pink tongue just hovering over his length. He also remembers the feeling of your hot mouth on him. The way your lips slowly come closer to the crown of his head, how your breath wafts over him. It feels euphoric when you finally make contact with him, mouth enclosing his flushed head.

It's so warm in your mouth, smooth as you lightly suck on him. The hand on your head slightly grips your hair, a sign that he likes the slow pace you've set. You hum around his cock, taking him a little deeper as you widen your jaw.

One of your hands makes way to grip the base, pulling the skin upwards in a stroking motion.

This makes his hips jerk, gagging you for just a split second. Your wide eyes look up at him, small tears peeking at the corners. Tarzan gives an apologetic look, but the sight of your teary eyes and pretty lips around his cock makes him fuck up toward you again.

You pull away from him, earning a whine as Tarzan throws his head back dramatically.

Maybe he thinks you're going to stop as punishment, but it's quite the opposite. Your cunt is sopping from tasting him, even if it was for a brief moment. Even if you have a task at hand, and your camera is still recording for 'research,' you have your own needs to take care of.

Tarzan is none the wiser as you put a hand on his bare chest and lay him down. He eyes you curiously but lets you push him all the way down before hopping on top. His eyes widen as he's faced with your clothed cunt. Underwear the same color as your tongue that holds the strongest smell of you.

He doesn't need any directions as he dives his nose into you. Tarzan is obsessed with your natural smell. His nose immediately grows damp from your wetness, his tongue poking out to lick the juices that leak out.

Softly moaning, you take a hold of his cock once more. You pump it a few times before taking it into your mouth. It's surprising to see that he's not humping in your mouth like normal, but he's so distracted with your pussy that he can't seem to bother noticing his own pleasure.

It's hard to focus on his hard length as his teeth tear off your panties. You gasp when you hear the fabric split, but it turns into a whine when his tongue finally makes contact with your bare cunt.

Tarzan has to grip your hips to keep you still. As much as he would love for you to grind on his face, he needs to have his meal first. His tongue runs over your folds, finding that little bud you love so much to be touched.

He sucks on it and pulls, stretching your clit. Your legs shake and you have to pull away from his cock to catch your breath. Lazy hands stroke his hard-on as you look back. You clench at the sight of his unruly hair peeking above your ass, the sounds his mouth makes as he laps at you.

Turning back to your literal task at hand, you find the energy to take his cock once more. You unhinge your jaw and exhale, taking Tarzan deeper and deeper until your eyes roll back. You hollow your cheeks and suck, moving your head back up until just the tip remains in your mouth, and go all the way back down.

Now Tarzan can feel the bliss of your mouth on him. He moans into your pussy and slightly jerks his hips up, making you gag around him once more.

Feeling you work so hard makes him want to reciprocate. He shakes his head left and right to try and bury himself deeper. He uses his grip to force you further onto his face. Tarzan's tongue finds the squeezing entrance that he's breached so many times. He digs his tongue into you, finally getting a taste of you from the source.

He's guiding your hips so you could drag your pussy against him how you like. Tarzan can feel your hips trying to pull away from him as the feeling of his tongue has gotten too much. And it has.

You're trying to distract yourself by deepthroating him, but it's no use. All you can feel is his experienced mouth, how he remembers every detail he knows you like. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and how it builds in your stomach rapidly.

Tarzan feels your legs shake. Your thighs trembling and giving out, full lower body weight on his face. He can taste how the wetness has changed, thicker and tart. Tarzan knows this taste like the back of his hand. You're going to cum, give him that white cream he loves licking out of you.

You've completely stopped paying attention to his dick. A part of you should feel bad for neglecting him, but you can't seem to care as Tarzan's tongue fucks you. Instead, you find yourself humping his face, his mouth following as you approach your high.

You squeal as you come, clamping a hand over your mouth as you finish. Warm gushes out of you, body quivering as the eager man under you happily drinks it all. Tarzan gulps and slurps until he's beginning dripping from the corners of his mouth.

He takes and takes until you're the one having to tell him no more, that you can't handle another orgasm.

Tarzan hears the desperation in your voice, the way you plead. It takes strength for him to pull away from your pussy, a soft growl emitting from his chest.

Then his thighs wrap around your head, securing you in front of his cock. You have no time to question him as you involuntarily take his cock into your mouth.

There's so much pre-cum dripping from the slit that all you can taste is its saltiness. He's throbbing, fucking his hips into your mouth as he holds you still with his legs.

All you can do is take it. Lips wrapping around his girth as he desperately slides his dick in and out. You gag and silently plead for Tarzan to be gentler, but he's having none of it. Your hands warp around his thighs to steady yourself, your head bobbing uncontrollably to match his movements.

Tarzan twitches in your mouth once, stilling his hips deep into your throat. Tears immediately prick your eyes and fall down your face, and you swear your vision goes black for a fraction of a second before he pulls out. You get the chance to gasp for air as he lines up his cock to your lips again and shoves it back in.

You think you might pass out. You're at the mercy of Tarzan, and he's still unable to see how much stronger he is than the average man. Your mouth is nothing but a fleshlight to him as he makes you choke around him. It makes you feel like a toy, a warm hole for him to fuck his seed into.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

The familiar twitch in his cock occurs again. Once, twice, then three times before he unloads in your mouth. Hot spurts of his cum find themselves in your throat, forcing you to gulp it down.

Tarzan's hips slow, letting his cock drag against your lips before he finally pulls out. You cough and pant as his orgasm drips from your tongue.

His thighs release you and you promptly plop down on them. You feel his hands rub soothingly over the curve of your ass, up and down your thighs. And an extra apology, Tarzan presses a kiss to your throbbing pussy. You chuckle and kiss his thigh back before sitting up, hoping off his face.

You have to crawl to grab your camera, breathing a sigh of relief to see the red light still shining. You aim the lens at his face as he too sits up. You can see the arousal on his face from eating you out, his swollen lips, and messy hair.

"So," you start. "Tell me, Tarzan, did you like that?"

Tarzan's lips quirk into what you think is a smile before he looks at you directly through the camera.

"Yes."

a/n: holy fuck I dont think y'all know how hard this was. I kinda went all out for the first one so the second one was hard as hell to match lmaooo. I physically and mentally can't do a third installment. this is the final one sowwy also I added some characters from the film! hopefully you caught that, I made Terk human, Tarzan needed a friend even if it's a fanfic

#smut #tarzan x reader #tarzan smut #tarzan 1999 #tarzan and his mate #tarzan #beast #jungle smut #tarzan of the apes #tarzan au #tarzan fanfic #holy fuck what do I tag??#professor porter

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yayll · 3 months ago

Text

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his coveting for you ~

If you were a burning car, he'd call shotgun. Not that he needs another reason to crash and burn, but it would be nice for him to indulge just a little for once. He watches the fireworks from the port, a contrast to his usual prison in his high rise office back at Mafia headquarters. Where you are. He can't even handle being in the same building as you anymore, not when he gets like this. He should be getting back to work, solving bigger problems that torment him on a daily basis, but you take priority Every. Single. Time. Oh, this isn't supposed to be this way.

He sent you on your way earlier after you stupidly worried about his sleep schedule, or rather his lack of one.

"... I still don't know how you manage to keep us afloat, sir."

He almost cracks a smile at that. You little idiot.

"Because I have to, of course. You all make it easier on me in your own way, the mafia supports one another. It's all one grand effort, no?"

You tilt your head, your eyes full of dreams and promise. He wishes he could take the stars out of your eyes and keep them in his pocket for a rainy day. Everyday.

"You think so? I'm not too terrible of a subordinate?"

Hmm, you want reassurance. Cute. It's not in his nature to beg, but in that moment he wants to drop to his knees, wrap himself around your legs and praise the absolute shit out of you until you kick him away like the stray dog he is.

Instead, Dazai just exhales deeply, and clears his throat. His eyes are solemn, yet solely focused on you. His voice betrays the coldness he's trying to exude, it's too soft... too reminiscent of kindness.

"... You're not terrible at all."

He holds your gaze quietly for a long moment, and he can see the way you struggle to move on from that sentiment. For a brief shining moment, you can almost see Osamu Dazai, not this pathetic void he presents everyday. He wants to lean over and hold you, to beg you to tell him that he's real and so are you, and that he's sick and tired of feeling half alive.

You end up nagging him to promise he'll get some sleep tonight, and he lies to you, a small smirk curling on his lips. It's as cruel as he can be right now. Once you're gone, he simply looks down at the mess of paperwork on his desk, and he whispers to himself, a silent mantra on his quivering lips, his face between his hands

"... I promise, I promise, I promise."

He watches the fireworks come to an end, and he thinks about himself in the context of it all, dying to find absurdity in the mundane to match his own mental state. He tugs at the frayed bandages that stick out of the cuff of his suit, he has a nasty habit of picking them every time he sees you, as if he could ever afford the luxury of having a ridiculous schoolboy crush. It's time to change them, and it's time for him to go back home. He doesn't mean his office, not his pitiful empty bed, but you. You make it anywhere home. But you are not his, and he is unfortunately yours, so maybe he will go home and sleep. You would like that, and he really likes you.

The man in black begins to walk into the night, whistling a tune as his maroon scarf billows in the wind, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

#oh goddddd whyyyyyyyyyyy #i don't know! idk!#put me down #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai angst #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #beast dazai #drabble #is this even a drabble. what are we #bsd beast #bsd x reader #osamu dazai #pathetic men god i love em #dazai imagines

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pinkmirth · 2 years ago

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I think we need some headcanons of cowboy Reiner

— ( save a horse, ride a cowboy! )

༉‧₊˚. — synopsis: just a cluster of fluffy and smutty headcanons for none other than the love of my life, cowboy reiner!

༉‧₊˚. — contains: (2k words of…) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader, (black coded), fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, southern setting, established relationship (married), fantasies of having a child, breeding kink (‘cause this is reiner we’re talking about duh!), mentions of pregnancy, bondage kink, oral (m!receiving/blowjob), cowgirl position, doggy-style, creampie, reiner calls himself “daddy”, use of the petnames (mama, sugar, darling, honey, cowgirl), reiner calls you “woman” once, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

༉‧₊˚. — mira’s note: oh absolutely, nonnie! here are some thoughts I have on cowboy rei-rei 💕 (check masterlist for other reiner fics!)

this man is always covered head-to-toe in classic cowboy attire— embroidered cowboy boots, blue denim jeans with a lasso hanging from his belt loop, and a trusty old cowboy hat. he’s got the whole getup, and he looks even sexier in it every time you see him! though, his best look by far is the shirtless one. it’s the highlight of your day when whenever it gets too warm outside, because he’s soon to peel off his top. from across the farm, he can feel your eyes burning into his lightly-tanned skin as he does the most mundane chores. his muscles tense and flex with every move, pecs gleaming with sweat. he shoots you a smirk, folding his arms across his bare chest. “y’like what ya see, honey?” you pray the weather’s even hotter tomorrow.

it warms his heart whenever you come around to watch him do his daily chores around the farm. your presence motivates him to work harder, so he can continue to provide for you and sustain your comfortable lifestyle. you try not to be too much of a distraction, but you can’t help wanting to be closer to your husband; so you tug at his leather belt and pull him in for a kiss. that gets him giddy like nothing else. “ya know how much i love it when y’do that… gimme another,” he puckers his lips, and you giggle. “i don’t wanna keep you sidetracked for too long, rei. you were busy before i got here,” you caress his stubbled cheek and he pouts in response, leaning forward to receive another pillowy kiss. “jus’ one more, mama.”

cowboy reiner loves to cook and bake! he often goes on farmer’s market dates with you, walking hand in hand as you help him pick out the freshest ingredients and spices. you chat and laugh amongst one another, dropping carrots and apples into the hand-woven basket that reiner made for you. after arriving back home, he allows you to relax in yours and his shared bedroom while he whips together a hearty southern meal for the two of you. he shouts from across the house, adorned in nothing but a short pair of checkered boxers and a flimsy apron, “supper’s ready, darlin’! come on down ‘n eat!”

he’s great with animals! reiner cradles an adorable month-old horse in his strong arms, feeding milk to the baby with a soft smile. it’s just about the sweetest thing you could ever see! all the little foals follow him around the ranch because they love papa reiner just as much as you do <3 he’s built something of a connection between himself and his beloved herd, which is why he’s able to bring the horses over to their stables with no hassle whatsoever. this man could practically be a veterinarian with all the animal knowledge he has!

he’s a locally known rodeo champion! reiner wins the prize for longest bull-riding every single year. he should allow someone else a fighting chance, at least 😭 but he’s just effortlessly good at anything he puts his mind to! he skillfully rides the beast with such ease, leaving the crowd in awe. courtesy of his natural-born strength, he hardly ever gets tossed off. reiner’s got medals galore hanging on his wall from every competition.

as a southern man, he’s very family-oriented. his loved ones are of the utmost importance to him, and he’ll always put family first before anything else. he utterly adores you, and can’t wait to start a tiny lil family of his own with you <3 when I tell you this man cannot wait to be a papa, I mean it! there’s no denying that reiner would be an amazing father, considering that he’s so caring and attentive. he knows the best tickle spots to target, and the silliest faces to make to get a child cracking up (both of which he discovered through spending lots of time with gabi when she was small.) he constantly daydreams about dressing up his little one in tiny boots and overalls and carrying them up on his shoulders. (yes, I’m pushing the daddy rei-rei agenda on this fine weekend!)

cowboy reiner has manners like none other— the epitome of a true gentleman! he’s a great listener, is always so patient, opens doors for you, pays for your things without hesitation, gives frequent massages, carries you when you begin to feel tired; the list goes on! he’s just so kind and selfless, and never fails to show it. cowboy rei-rei is truly the perfect husband. “your feet hurt? well c’mere, sugar. i’ll carry you. it ain’t too much for me, y’know i can handle ya! jus’ hold onto me. i gotcha, okay?”

cowboy reiner is a grown man who can wholly appreciate your body and every striking detail about it. he scrutinizes the small dotted beauty marks scattered across your skin, your cutely patterned stretch marks, the curves and crevices of your soft tummy and thighs, and he fucking loves it all. makes it a habit to kiss up and down your body, just to give you a well-needed confidence boost. this man right here surely knows how to make a woman feel special! “listen t’me— you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, y’know that?”

(nsfw) — reiner loves when you treat him to a surprise blowie during work. he’s up to the usual, arranging things around the barn and tending to the animals. you then make your entrance, wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him from behind. your plump lips curve into a sensual smile as you ask him, “can I steal you for a moment, baby? it won’t be for too long, I swear it.” in an instant, he's allowing you to pull him away from his duties, unknowing of where you’re taking him, but also uncaring because he’d allow you to do whatever you please. he follows you with the goofiest smile plastered on his charming face, because he knows that he’s about to receive the most knee-buckling blowjob of his entire goddamn life. you bring him into the hayloft, pushing him against the red-painted wall until he’s flat against it. you drop to your knees and bring his jeans down with you. “fuck, darlin’… kiss the tip ‘fa me.” he moans lowly. you do as he wishes, suckling on his cockhead with the most beautiful, glistening eyes. you’re so eager to please, and it makes him throb on your tongue. with a hand at the back of your head, he guides you further onto him until you’ve swallowed the entirety of his fat dick. reiner ruts his hips, fucking into your wet mouth. you always know just how to make him feel so good, so loved. he adores you like nothing else. “oh, that’s it, honey, right there… atta girl.”

(nsfw) — the bondage kink on this man is insane, I tell you! cowboy reiner loves to keep your hands tied behind your back and watch you squirm against the rope. “rei,” in a breathless whine, his name falls from your plush lips. you wiggle your ass in the air for him, anticipating his next move. he takes you from the back, raw-dogging your pussy with a merciless pace. you truly wonder where he gets all this unparalleled energy to drill you into the bed, especially considering all the hard work he puts into maintaining the farm every day. one large hand of his stays planted on your waist, hastily grabbing, while the other holds onto your tied hands for leverage. he delivers harsh, deep-reaching thrusts, with his firm hips sharply smacking against you from behind. your wrists struggle against the rope, and he can tell just how desperate you are to touch him. his gaze is fixated on your soft body; every jiggle of your ass and ripple of your thighs is more hypnotizing than the last. you mewl for him, stuttering out something along the lines of ‘t—too much!’ … reiner leans down until his chest grazes the arch of your back, so that he can say, “quit alla-that whinin’, woman.” he clicks his teeth, flooding your ears with that sexy southern drawl of his. “y’can take it all, you’ve done it before.”

(nsfw) — we all know it, the entire goddamn fandom knows it: cowboy reiner has a massive fucking breeding kink! he wants nothing more than to get you pregnant by stuffing your pliant womb with his thick loads of cum. giving you a creampie makes him go completely wild; he watches his seed drip down your slit with hitched breath. a sight such as that is enough to get him hard all over again. the lust takes over, and he’s thinking with his dick for the next three rounds. plowing into you and rubbing at your puffed clit with calloused fingertips, reiner asks, “want me to come inside you? hm?” he gently holds onto your chin, directing your gaze to him. you dazedly look at your husband, pulsing around his thick cock. seeing how fucked-out you are makes his chest swell with the utmost pride. his greatest achievement is being able to please you. “tell me how bad y’fuckin’ want it, baby.” he rasps. your pleading moans urge him to release for you. his warm, pearly arousal seeps into you for the nth time that night. all he wants is to fill you up until you’re walking funny, with your leg shaking from all the stimulation. or, at least until that little stick comes out positive one day. having you grow plump with his child is his ultimate fantasy. “you’d look so stunnin’ as a mama, carryin’ my baby… don’t’cha think so, sugar?”

(nsfw) — reiner likes to let you wear his cowboy hat while you ride him. mounting onto your husband with your legs on either side of his hips, you straddle him. your dainty hands are planted on his broad chest for balance. he pulls off his iconic hat, hair cutely tousled from wearing it all day, before sitting up to place it on your head. “since you’ll be the one ridin’ tonight. giddyup, cowgirl.” he teases with a slick grin. you tip the hat with a breathy laugh before sinking down on his fat dick, maintaining sharp eye contact with him as your throbbing cunt takes him in little by little, until your clit’s grounded and snug against the dark-blonde tufts of his happy trail. his warm palms rub along your body as you swivel your hips, slamming down on all nine girthy inches that he has to offer. he watches your tits bounce, one manicured hand of yours squeezing at your left boob while the other holds onto his hat that rests upon the crown of your head. you rock back and forth with fervor, and he swears he can feel every spongy ridge of your contracting pussy. he throws his head back onto the pillows and gazes at you with the prettiest set of honey-golden eyes, hooded and lust-blown. gravelly moans fall past his agape lips as he spurs you on, giving your ass a thorough smack, “bounce on it, jus’ like that— yeah, fuck daddy’s cock.”

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lomlompurim · 10 months ago

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What if Without A Cure were a different type of poison, like a cursed potion that will consume a person's body & mind, slowly and painfully while they transform into a creature with little to nothing left of their human consciousness, ending up like a beast. Like a dragon.

A victim of this version of Without A Cure would suffer a series of gradual changes on their body: developing scales all over their skin, claws growing in their hands and feet, painful reament of bones, teeths being replaced by fangs, several migraines for growing horns out of their skull, and a tail.

What if the sessions of qi transfers with Liu Qingge and the herbs can only do so much to keep the transformation at bay, forcing the changes on Shen Qingqiu's body to step back for a bit. But as the days go by, these changes come again slowly, each time a little bit harder to fight. And the flares of Without A Cure make these changes happen at a violent speed.

He can hide the worst of it with a veil, gloves and a hat while being in CQ mountain. Having LQG and MQF helping him almost daily. But the peaklords (Specially YQY) do their best to keep eveything as private as possible. No one truly knew what this Without A Cure was capable of, since the few records of it's victims mark them as dead within a few days of being posioned, having "strange deformities in their bodies" as the only clue.

Maybe Binghe never really knew the true effects of the so called poison with no cure. He only knew his master sacrificed his cultivation and now needs qi transfers to help him endure the pain.

SQQ never really tolds him, he saw how guilty Binghe felt about the whole deal, telling him that he was slowly becoming a feral creature will only make the poor boy feel worse!! Unthinkable. It wasn't so bad anyways (it was) for now his draconic features are minimal, almost non existent after the qi transfers, everything is going to be fine. Maybe becoming a dragon can help him avoid death? Uh that's a problem for the SQQ of the future.

After the conference, SQQ's grief made things a little bit worse. Just a little. The pace of the cursed posion is becoming more bothersome as days passed by, now he can't go anywhere without a veil covering his face, and the little poking horns on this head can't be hiden by his hair anymore. Maybe he just should die and come back in his plant body to put a stop to this prickly curse. A lot of people, in or outside of the mountain think he covers his face out of vanity or bc of an ugly scar. Some weirdos are even trying to take a peek under his veil. Is this what Liu Mingyan has to endure everyday?! The urge to bite out those curious fingers is becoming stronger.

Then, what if when Huan Hua Palace takes him as a prisoner, a flare up happens and with no one to help him w a qi transfer, his horns grow severly inches long, his hands and feet are completly covered in grey scales, big black claws ripping his robes because his skin is itching like hell thanks to the new scales. His pupils become slit, his tail pokes out of the rags that his clothes became, everything is a mess and no one can see him like these.

What if when Sqq self detonates, instead of dying he sacrificed what was left of his humanity to stabilize Binghe, and he completly transformates into a huge white dragon, flying away into the sky, disappearing in the distance. Leaving a very confused half demon and a devastated war god behind, memories of his human life becoming blurry and far away.

What if some despicable palace master and a particular greedy demon royalty of the nothern region put a price on the head of the misterious white dragon that has been seen floating around the skies?

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

Idk this is an idea for a bingliushen story. With without a cure having the effects of the first drafts that airplane had thought in this AU, when PIDW was not so popular yet. And no, the heavenly pillar can't cure this. In my brain this version of without a cure is older than the concept of dual cultivation with a heavenly demon being a cure to almost everything, so no magic dick can solve it, they would have to find another way.

In my mind Sqq's dragon form is like this from Zelda Tears of the Kingdom. Pretty big lizzard.

#svsss #人渣反派自救系统 #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #fic idea #but idk how to write #well I kinda now and tbh I'd love to try but rn I dont have the time #my semester will end up soon tho #I can give it a try during my vacation period who knows #a lot of my sparks of ideas are too long to just draw why am I like this #without a cure transforms sqq into a dragon au

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lxstfathier · 1 year ago

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Hello! This is my first time requesting something so sorry if it's weird or something.

But moving on I was wonder if I could request super southern s/o like she's from Texas has a heavy accent rides bulls in rodeos just pretty much a cowgirl reader for task force 141 + Alejandro please and thank you!

Omg nooo, it’s not weird, i think it’s cute. So i did a few headcanons for you anon. I don’t know much about rodeos but i hope i got it right lol, hope you like it! 💗

Cowgirl

Task Force 141 + Alejandro x Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Simon Riley

♡ He never thought he would be attracted to a cowgirl, cuz country girls were never his type, but he fell for you no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

♡ They don’t have rodeos in the uk, so obviously you had to explain everything to him when you became a couple.

♡ Simon thinks that you should be really crazy to ride those dangerous bulls, and if it were for him, he would make you quit. But he knows it’s your passion, so he supports you as long as nothing bad happens.

♡ If he can, he will go with you to the rodeos, helping you to get ready and then watching you ride, standing at the in-gate, hoping that everything goes well.

♡ And if you are the best rider of the night, he would definitely shower you in praises, giving you a big hug and maybe even some flowers that he bought at the fair.

Johnny Mactavish

♡ He kinda knows what rodeos are, so when you tell him you are a bull rider he thinks that’s the coolest thing ever.

♡ He’s kinda extreme too, so he begs you to teach him how to ride a bull, just for fun.

♡ Johnny absolutely loves parading you around, telling everyone that his pretty girlfriend is also a very skilled cowgirl.

♡ He texts you everyday after your daily trainings to see how you did.

♡ You both have very thick accents, so every time you speak together, having a fast conversation, no one can understand what you’re saying.

♡ He watches you ride every time he can, sitting on the stands, cheering for you while he eats popcorn.

Kyle Garrick

♡ He fell in love with you the moment he saw you riding one of those bulls as if it was something easy.

♡ He calls you “my little cowgirl”.

♡ A very supportive boyfriend. He loves going with you to the rodeos every time he can, helping you with everything and giving you a quick kiss before you ride.

♡ Most of the time he watches you from the stands, but sometimes he gets distracted and then you find him petting the horses.

♡ If you are the best rider of the night, Kyle takes a lot of pics and posts them on his instagram.

John Price

♡ He doesn’t like it at all. He thinks it’s really dangerous and that one of those beasts is gonna kill you one day.

♡ But he knows you’re not gonna quit just for him, so he tries to be supportive, letting you do it as long as you don’t get hurt.

♡ Deep down he loves seeing you wear the typical cowgirl outfit. He thinks you look super sexy in it.

♡ Everyone thinks you’re an odd couple. Cuz it’s really weird to see an english military captain with a country texan girl, who would have thought you’d be a match?

♡ If he can go to see you ride at a rodeo, (which is rare because he’s always busy) he will just watch from the in-gate, contemplating every movement while he talks with your trainer.

♡ At some point John tries to convince you to switch to barrel races, but then it backfires when you tell him that now you wanna do both.

Alejandro Vargas

♡ He’s the most supportive out of them all.

♡ He grew up in a little town in Las Almas, always seeing the colorful fairs with jaripeos, which is basically the mexican version of rodeos, so he knew exactly what you were into.

♡ He fell hard for you, captivated by your beauty and your skills to ride those animals.

♡ If you marry him, he’d definitely buy you a nice house in the outskirts of Las Almas, with lots of land for you to have as many horses and bulls as you want.

♡ Alejandro loves horses, that’s obvious, so he buys a percheron just to ride for fun while you are doing your daily trainings with the bulls.

♡ He sits with your family almost every time he goes to the rodeos to watch you ride, cheering loudly for you. And your parents love him, there’s no doubt in that.

♡ If you are the best rider of the night, he hugs you really tight while telling you that he’s really proud of you.

#call of duty fanfic #alejandro vargas x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #Alejandro Vargas fanfic

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cherry-holmes · 1 year ago

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Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña (series)

Chapter 2

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Javi fucked up things with you.

SERIES MASTERLIST PART 3

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +2.5k

Warnings: none. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! As always I want to thank you for your support! I hope you like this one and be ready for moreeee!🫶🏻✨ I love reading your comments and reblogs, so keep the coming✨

I’m open for requests. Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Loki, BBC Sherlock, Supernatural…😏

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Work made time fly quickly. You had a lot of paperwork to do every day, and it seemed endless – spending hours reading reports and files and then translating them on your typewriter. However, something had been making the last two weeks feel easier, or better to say, someone.

Every afternoon, Javier Peña visited your office to hand you his and Murphy's daily reports. You wondered when Messina would withdraw Javier's punishment, but you weren't sure if you wanted her to do it. You didn't have a lot of friends at work since your department consisted of only one employee – you. You had some conversations with secretaries and officers during your lunch breaks, but you always returned alone to your small office.

So, when Javier visited and talked with you for at least a couple of minutes, it made you feel less isolated in the demanding work environment. The couple of days when he didn't visit because he was on a raid out of the base, you couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. You became accustomed to the smell of cigarettes and men's cologne that lingered in the air whenever he was around. Sometimes he also smelled like black coffee, and on his roughest days, even like whiskey.

It became a small but pleasant routine, these short daily visits from Javier. You'd sometimes share a funny story or a piece of office gossip, and occasionally, you'd laugh together. Those brief moments helped create a sense of camaraderie between you and the charming DEA agent.

Until one particular day, as Javier handed you the reports, he leaned casually against your office doorframe, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "You know," he began, "I've been thinking. Maybe you and I should grab a drink after work one of these days. Get to know each other a little better, outside of this crazy office."

His proposition took you by surprise. You hadn't expected this kind of invitation. Your mind raced as you tried to decide how to respond. Javier watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You were about to say yes immediately, but you knew better than to let yourself fall into the den of the beast so easily. You had heard a lot about Javier Peña and his charming ways, known to lead any woman to his bed. And although you had been enjoying the friendly conversations with him, you didn't want to rush into anything too quickly.

You met his gaze, your own eyes locking with his. "Javier," you began carefully, "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But, I have to be honest, you have quite the reputation, and I don't want to misinterpret our friendship."

Javier's smirk hesitated, as he tried to process your response. He looked like it was the first time he'd been rejected, and it caught him off guard. He straightened his back and moved his hand as if dismissing the importance of it all.

"Wow," he said with a touch of sarcasm, "I never thought I'd see the day when someone turned down a night with Javier Peña. Guess I overestimated our connection."

His words stung, and you could see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, even though he was trying to play it cool. You had unintentionally wounded his pride, and it seemed he was determined to strike back with a hint of meanness.

"It's not about our connection, Javier," you replied evenly. "It's about respecting boundaries and not rushing into something we might regret later."

«That I might regret later».

He sighed, his tone softening just a bit. "Fair enough. I get it. I won't push," he said, his playful charm replaced by a more somber demeanor. "Let's just forget I ever brought it up. We can stick to our friendly chats. No harm done."

The atmosphere in the room grew tense, and you both lapsed into an uneasy silence. It was clear that your rejection had affected him more than he let on, and you couldn't help but feel a sting of guilt for hurting his feelings.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He didn't mean it.

"I never thought I'd see the day when someone turned down a night with Javier Peña"?

What the fuck was that shit?

As Javier left your office, he felt guilty and embarrassment for saying that. He knew his behavior wasn't correct, but the disappointment he felt really took him by surprise. He had been rejected a couple of times, he was prepared for your possible refusal. But what he didn't expect was the heavy weight he would feel when he heard you saying no.

For weeks, he had been feeling increasingly drawn to you, always wanting to be near you. He even used Messina's punishment as an excuse to visit your office, even after she withdrew it. Javier had finally come to the disconcerting realization that he was infatuated with you. So, he thought that perhaps by taking you out for a drink and even having you in his bed, he would get over it.

But as he got into his truck, he felt truly disillusioned. His ill-advised words had driven a split between you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had ruined any chance of building something more meaningful. Javier's fear of commitment was something that never kept him awake at night, not even after everything that had happened with Lorraine. He felt genuinely sorry for leaving her at the altar thirteen years ago, but he always told himself that she was much better without him. She needed someone with a lot more commitment than he had. Now, the topic seemed to be haunting him.

He wasn't mad because you hurt his ego; he was mad because you hurt the feelings he didn't know he had.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier didn't come to your office again the following week. It wasn't the first time a man stopped talking to you after you rejected him. You were used to it. The moment you made it clear you wouldn't give them what they wanted, they magically lost interest in you, sometimes even resorting to calling you boring or, occasionally, a bitch.

You could sense this double standard in society. On one hand, they encourage women to freely explore their sexuality, which is great, but on the other hand, if you prefer to wait for the right time and the right person, you get labeled as "boring" or "prudish." It's as if there's no middle ground, no understanding that everyone has their own path and timing.

You had always believed in waiting for the right person, the one you truly cared about, to share such an intimate moment. It wasn't about religion, you didn't even believe on the false concept of ''purity'' or ''santity''; it was simply your personal choice.

So you thought Javier was just another man like many. It made you feel disappointed because you really liked him, but there wasn't anything you could do about it.

As you entered the office dining room, you spotted your usual group of female friends. They greeted you, and you joined them. All of you spoke in Spanish.

"Hello" you smiled as you greeted as you took your seat. The chatter at the table was lively, filled with laughter and bits of gossip about the office. These women had become your companions, and you cherished the moments you spent with them during lunch breaks.

As the conversation flowed, one of your friends, Marta, leaned in and asked in a teasing tone, "So, we've been seeing Agent Peña hanging around your office quite often lately. What's the story there?"

The mention of Javier made you pause for a moment, and you glanced at your friends, slightly surprised that they had noticed. "Oh, that," you said, attempting to play it off casually. "It's because of Messina's punishment. She made him handed me his reports."

Ana raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Messina's punishment? Come on, you were chatting for like two weeks straight. That punishment lasts only a couple of days."

You felt your cheeks flush as you tried to maintain your composure. Your friends were sharp, and they clearly had their suspicions. "Well," you began, searching for words, "maybe he did something to bother her again. You know how bossy she can get."

The women at the table exchanged knowing looks, and one of them, Maria, couldn't help but tease, "Hmm, a bad boy indeed. He must really that bad."

You sighed internally. With a sheepish smile, you finally confessed, "Okay, fine. We've been talking a lot. But it's just work-related, I promise."

Marta grinned. "Work-related, huh? Well, you can't blame us for being curious. Agent Peña isn't known for spending that much time in one place, especially chatting with a colleague."

You shrugged, realizing that your friends had seen through your explanation. "I guess we've been getting along. It's nice to have someone to talk to during those long work hours."

Your friends exchanged knowing glances again, and Maria leaned closer, her voice hushed. "Come on, spill the beans. Is there something more going on between you two?"

You hesitated, then decided to be honest. "No, there isn't. It's just work and friendly conversations. Javier is a nice guy, and I enjoy our talks."

Maria leaned in again, her tone more serious this time. "That's good to hear then, because, you know, we found out that he slept with Kelly. You know her, didn't you? The blonde one."

You paused, your heart sinking at the revelation. It didn't surprised you, but you felt a hole in your chest.

"Oh," you tried to composed yourself, "Well for them."

Sofia chimed in, her expression concerned. "Yeah, we just don't want you to get hurt. These things usually don't end well. Men like him, they tend to move on pretty quickly."

"You don't have nothing to worry about," you tell them, mixing your food but you had lost your appetite, "There's nothing between us, so Javier is free to do anyone he please."

The conversation moved on to other topics, but you couldn't help but feel a ache of disappointment and confusion. Why did Javier's involvement with someone else affect you like this? You told yourself it didn't matter, that you had your own principles and choices to stick to. But deep down, something had shifted, and you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Javier had crossed paths around the office a couple of times during the following days, but neither of you made the effort to talk to each other. It was a bit awkward, but nothing that you actually mourned. You had heard that he spent at least two more nights with Kelly, until apparently, as you heard from Martha, she asked him to be more than just friends, and he said no. It wasn't a surprise; he had done that to more women at work. Everybody knew him.

On the other hand, Javier was desperate to get you out of his dreams. He told himself that he couldn't put a name to what he felt toward you, but the reality was that he just wanted to accept it. He had feelings for you, more than just wanting to be with you in bed. He wasn't in love - yet - but he did feel something. Your refusal had hit him harder than he expected. He couldn't deny that he cared more about you than he ever thought he would. But he had no idea how to approach you now.

The dimly lit room was filled with the lingering scent of passion and cigarette as Javier stood by the window, staring up at the distant lights of the city. Helena, lying on his bed, propped herself up on one elbow.

"Javi, what's been bothering you lately?," Helena asked, her voice soft and concerned.

Javier turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes meeting hers. He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "It's nothing, Helena, just work stuff," he replied, trying to dismiss her question.

Helena wasn't convinced. She had known Javier long enough to recognize when something was troubling him. "You can't fool me, Javier," she said with a knowing smile. "I can recognize a heart that's burdened."

He looked at her, his guard dropping slightly. "It's complicated," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Helena knew better than to press him for more details. As she watched Javier's back, her feelings were a complex mix of desire, longing, and a touch of sadness. She had known for a while that Javier was not just her client; she had developed a connection beyond the physical, even though Javier didn't.

She felt a heartache, waves of jealousy running through her veins, knowing that she could never compete with the other woman in his thoughts. Helena understood the nature of their arrangement – she was a hooker, and he was a DEA agent. Their worlds were inherently different, and she had resigned herself to the fact that he would never see her as more than a source of pleasure and information. Yet, despite her own rationalizations, Helena couldn't help but yearn for something more with Javier. She had developed genuine feelings for him over time, even though she knew it was a one-sided affair.

After Helena left his apartment, the night grew darker, and Javier lay awake in his bed, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He couldn't deny the growing feelings he had for you, and he knew he needed to do something about it. The distraction had reached a point where he couldn't ignore it any longer.

So he had made a decision. Tomorrow, he was going to approach you. He would apologize for the way he talked to you the other day, ask you out for a friendly drink, and see where things could go. It was a bold move for him, someone not accustomed to such personal pursuits.

As he mentally crafted his approach, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of your bright eyes and the way your laughter rang in his ears during those brief conversations in your office. Javier was convinced that there was something special about you, something that drew him in despite his best efforts to resist.

In the morning, Javier waited impatiently during the usual meeting in the office. He couldn't concentrate even when it was his turn to talk about the recent capture of one of Escobar's hitmen. Finally, as they left the meeting room, Murphy approached him and patted his back.

''Everything okay, Javi?'' he asked. Javier tried to keep it cool and waved a hand like it was nothing.

''I couldn't sleep well,'' he simply said as both agents arrived at their workplaces.

Steve chuckled, sitting at his desk and starting to gather all his paperwork. ''You were thinking about her, weren't you?'' he dared to ask. Javier and Steve trusted each other enough to tease one another. They never crossed the line but considered themselves friends.

Peña looked at him with annoyance, but it wasn't deep.

''Shut up, Murphy,'' he groaned as he gathered his own paperwork but didn't sit at his desk.

Steve looked at him with a grin, knowing his partner well enough to guess his next move.

''Two weeks without seeing her, and now you'll use Messina's punishment again as an excuse just to see her? What changed, Javi?'' he mocked.

''I told you to shut the fuck up,'' Javi said as he turned back toward your office, and Steve laughed.

Javier tried to remember the words he had spent the night trying to formulate and memorize. He was actually nervous. But just as he reached your doorway, his heart sank. He saw you engaged in conversation with Diego, another colleague from the office. The sight of you two talking, sharing a moment he wasn't a part of, left him feeling like an outsider. You were smiling, and there was a slight blush on your cheeks.

But not as flushed as she was with me, an intrusive thought echoed in the back of his head. He quickly turned away, his plans disrupted, and retreated to his own desk. Javier couldn't help but wonder if he had missed his chance with you. The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him in a state of frustration and craving.

NEXT CHAPTER

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baejax-the-great · 3 months ago

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Kintsugi

Achilles x Patroclus | M | Epilogue to Agua Caliente

Achilles is in his bed for the last time.

Patroclus sits in his desk chair, weight on its back two legs, his feet propped against the mattress, using his toes to tilt himself back and forth as he watches Achilles sleep. It’s so rare to see his face look so peaceful, for his brow not to be just a little furrowed in concern at all times. Serene like this, even in the orangey light from the streetlamps outside, he is so beautiful.

This scene plays out almost every night Achilles stays over. In his middle age, his body seems to have grown even more inflexible than his mind. Achilles can argue with himself for an entire weekend about minutely changing his schedule for Monday and eventually win, facing his victory with steely determination, but no matter what, at nine thirty, he will be nodding off wherever he is.

Patroclus has never been so lucky. He’s fought with insomnia on and off most of his life, and even when he isn’t struggling, nine thirty is a bit early for him. The nice thing is that when Patroclus does finally fall asleep, he sleeps like a corpse according to Achilles. It keeps the boys from waking him up when they’re in town, or so he’s been told, as they’ve never managed it.

Achilles is very easy to rouse, though if Patroclus wakes him up too soon after he’s fallen asleep whether on purpose or by accident, Achilles’ mood is so foul that he’s liable to fall out of love with Patroclus permanently. He can see it in his eyes. After the first hour or so of sleep, however, he’s easy to placate on waking, particularly if Patroclus has woken him up for the purpose of engaging in his favorite way of battling insomnia, which generally involves Achilles’ enthusiastic participation.

If Patroclus wakes him for any other reason, he can still assume the first thing Achilles will do on opening his eyes is kiss whatever part of him is closest. It’s Pavlovian at this point. Achilles informed him that on one of the few nights he’d slept alone in recent memory, his cat had woken him up at some early hour in the morning, and he found himself intolerably horny while shutting the beast out of his room, which he felt very weird about. Other nights he wakes up without Patroclus’s intervention at all, face flushed and searching for him on the bed. If he finds Patroclus still at his desk working or reading a book, he’ll ask, “Is it still too early?”

It’s such a change from the old days when Patroclus would fight against sleep for as long as he could because he knew as soon as morning came, Achilles would be gone, and he wouldn’t know when he’d be back. It took months to believe Achilles would stay in the mornings, that he would really come back after his daily runs, Patroclus nursing a tea and trying not to glower at the clock and lose his shit when it went past the time he thought Achilles should be back by. Everything was like that for a while, Patroclus thinking that if he pretended to trust Achilles, maybe eventually he would. Maybe Achilles would prove himself trustworthy. The only way to find out was to give him the space to fail.

Lately, Patroclus doesn’t even turn on the coffee pot the nights Achilles stays over because he knows Achilles will be back with his order sooner or later, sweaty and smiling and offering to drive Patroclus to work if he wants.

As of tomorrow, that won’t be a concern at all.

Read the rest here

#patrochilles #dropping fic on a friday night in august for maximum visibility lmao

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neetily · 3 months ago

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↳ EVENT 34. M!Alex DoL (Breeding & Hybrids)

— ✧ warnings: Breeding, Creampie, Hybrids, pregnancy mention, Heats, dubcon, Size Difference, Mating — ✧ word count: 3,959

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

There are certainly times that being a hybrid benefits him. Namely when it comes to his raw strength, and how it ties nicely into his career. Farm work ain't easy, y'know! But for him, and his natural born durability, difficult tasks are a lot easier to complete. It's nice to be not have to worry about the sheer amount of manual labour involved in his line of work, waking up each and every morning with the sure knowledge that whatever the day throws at him, he'll be ready for it. Lifting, weeding, fixing, building— thanks to his bull-like strength, nothing can even hope to stand in his way.

Another benefit is how much he can relate to his livestock. Sure, some may give him funny looks considering that he's a hybrid just like them, why should they bow to his feet? But he makes it abundantly clear that he only intends to care for them, a mutually beneficial understanding shared amongst beasts; not in the least because he can empathise on such an intimate level with them. Able to better help, attend to, and look after his stock as compared to a non hybrid farmer. Really, they should be thankful that it's his feet they must abide by, and not some unknowing, unhelpful human farmer. He understands their struggles like no other, because he experiences them in kind.

There are, of course, cons to the whole ordeal. One of which being his temper, or was it temperament? He never was the brightest, couldn't never get the difference to stick. How it can rise to terrifying heights, surprisingly fast, too. Stubborn as, well... As himself. As a bull can be, huffing and snorting and aiming his horns at anyone, or anything, that steps out of line. Innate intimidation working both for and against him, though he'd rather admit the former. Because a tall, imposing, intimidating presence is good around the farm, especially inside the barns. Tail swishing behind him, nostrils flared knowing that his mere existence is enough to get all the other hybrids back in line in a moments notice.

However, perhaps the greatest con of all, in spite of all the amazing positives, is that: he's just an animal at the end of the day. Just like the stock he cares for daily, a primal beast, a slave to his instinctive chains just as much as the rest of them.

Try to hide it all he wants, it's no use when he has someone as pretty and small as you near him at all hours of the day, helping on the farm as much as your little human hands can offer, leaving him feeling all fuzzy and thankful inside of his chest at the way you wipe the sweat off your brow. A pretty little thing like you is all it takes, really, for the animal within him to buck and gnaw and chew at his willpower until it's all too late. The immediate attraction he felt towards you hidden at the back of his mind resurfacing from a mere glance from you, a connection so strong that he's been unable to look away since your arrival on his farm.

It's that time of year again, isn't it?

He'd tried to keep himself contained. As naturally as possible— ain't got time to head into town for anything like medication or the likes, left to seethe by himself in private, avoiding your usual kind conversation in favour of petting himself into oblivion when he thinks you can't see him, or when you're too busy with one of the many useless tasks he's sent his favourite little farmhand on today. Anything to get you out of sight, though unsurprisingly, never out of mind.

Compared to him, you're tiny. A soft bodied little girl he can't help but to stare at, a yearn so deep in his heart to claim you as his own once and for all— and that's not just his instincts talking, though they certainly aid his drive. Over the course of your time spent on the farm, days and nights spent with him, he's came to appreciate you as a person, too.

One of the good ones, he promises his stock.

And while he can fuck around with his hybrids on any given day—he's done so before, particularly before you entered his life— there's just something about you. An intrinsic understanding that though he could break you in a mere second, still you cling to him for support. Staring up at him with those big puppy eyes he oh so adores; not that he's ever said as much before, often rendering him a blushing mess despite your smaller than his stature, build, and overall presence on the farm.

You're a good worker too, which gets to him. Honest with a strong work ethic, better than some hybrids he's came across. Like you're trying to prove yourself to him or something, which would be cute if that was the case. Y'need not prove yerself at all, sweetheart. He wants to coo softly at you often, fisting his fat cock to completion every night to the thought of his favourite little human between his meaty thighs with the look of adoration on your face. God, how long he's wanted to see you just there, those doe eyes fluttering back up at him, struggling to take his hybrid cock down your throat as— Well. You get the point.

Mans smitten, though the pill is a difficult one to swallow. Him, with a human? Look, he's not got anything against you per se, it's just not something he's ever considered possible in his lifetime. Resolved to picking a cute little hybrid all for himself one day once the farm was settled, and yet here he sits on his porch pining for someone half his size and half his breed. But that's just it, isn't it? The fact that you're so tiny compared to him, so easily picked up and thrown down, unable to escape his too big cock as his heat creeps up on him in the golden hour. It's too enticing, to see you prance around his farm without a single clue of the things you do to him. A curiosity, he lies to himself. Fate, his heart corrects.

"Fuck..." Escapes him, petting at his cock some more as you finish up tending to the plenty plots around the farmhouse, his brows knitting together in concentration, of you walking his way with that big cheesy grin on your face that he silently loves, or his big open palm stroking the outline of his bulge? He's not so sure. All that he knows for sure is that his cheeks feel a little warmer when you're around, that your scent invades his senses the closer you get to him, almost clouding his judgement as you take to sitting beside him, his cock twitching privately in response to the loud sigh you let out upon finally being able to relax.

You're so... God, so fucking annoying. The way you so effortlessly overwhelm his senses, his nose twitching with frustration as he huffs in your intoxicating scent. Can fucking smell your cunt from your side, tip leaking all over his pants with need. It's— sure, he's in heat. Breeding season and all that, not that you're fucking aware given how carelessly you bring up your shirt to reveal your soft tummy to him— oh, just a little bite? Just a small one, just to get a taste? Cleaning up the rest of your sweat that he'd rather lick off for you, exhaling heavily through his nose at the innocent look you wear when regarding him. But it's embarrassing how down bad he is for you, how out of all the perfectly good hybrid options presented to him throughout his life, a weak little thing like you gets to him the most.

"You good, Alex?"

Part of him wants to laugh, barked down at you with utter disrespect for how fucking stupid you're being right now. Dumb little girl, exposing yourself to his bull side so easily, on a silver platter up to his grinding teeth. But he's only half the animal he's acting right now, choosing instead to clear his throat before responding, staring you down with hazy eyes. He doesn't want to frighten you, really.

"Yup." Is all he allows himself to admit, tucking his cock into the waistband of his pants when you take a gander at all of your hard work; impressive, he thinks to himself. You're skilled, and it annoys him for some reason.

"You sure? You don't look too hot..."

The amount of worry in your tone irritates him, worsens his already agitated state as he goes to stand out of your way, intent on taking care of the tight ball of need nestled deep in his tummy until you reach out for him, little hand burning an imprint on his tense arm from the fire coursing through him.

It's craving. Longing to make you his. He's never truly felt so fucking heated before though... Even when fucking his stock when his heat got too strong to bear, he's never felt so vulnerable, and then it clicks in him. He wants you to depend on him too, to look for stability in his arms, to mark every inch of your pretty skin as his so that he never has to worry about another heat again. Unable to ignore the growing creep of want in his chest with every inhale of your scent— the best he's ever smelled, annoying in how sweet and perfectly suited it is to his tastes. He knows what it means, he's been avoiding it for as long as he can. But the way your hand comes up to his forehead, the back of it gently resting against him, as if checking your child's temperature— you just don't know when to quit, do you?

Not that he's any better, immediately sat upon your tugging request, allowing you to touch and poke and prod at his warm cheeks, concern lacing your expression at the way he huffs and puffs before you. Look, see how he's trying to hold on to the last remnants of control he's got, but you just keep pushing. Leaning closer, pouty kissable lips just begging for a tongue shoved between them, his eyes rolling back and shut when you hum in sincere thought for him.

And it's like something snaps in him when he feels your hand on his thigh. Propping yourself up to assumedly get a better look at his flushed complexion, unwinding the tight ball of restraint within him in a mere second as his hands fly out to your waist, easily pulling you onto his lap to show you exactly what's wrong with him. Let you feel the way his big fat cock throbs against your tummy, nails digging in to your hips and arms flexed to keep you pinned in place on his lap.

You've got to know that wrapping your legs around his waist only encourages him, right? Even if you've only done so out of assumed obligation, his clouded mind and rock hard cock take that as an invitation to thrust against you. Just once or twice, the sopping tip of his cock fucked out of his cock in the movement, much to your surprise apparently as a rushed gasp escapes you.

"'M sorry..." He mumbles, though nevertheless pushes your body back, letting you perch precariously at his knees so that he can unzip his pants and free his cock. "Jus'... Um, gotta mate with you."

Not once has he worded it like that, carrying you up to his bedroom without waiting for your answer because of how downright desperate he is to show you how serious his intentions are, undressing you on the way and discarding your clothes recklessly across the old house until he's able to toss you onto his bed.

You unlock something so needlessly primitive within him, the bed dipping under his weight as he removes his top, revealing his tight and toned body for your glassy eyes to gawk at. Fuck, and the sight of you under him like this? How easily and readily he towers over you, safely twice your size as he hovers above, bull tail swinging back and forth in piqued interest at the way you seem to cower under him.

He'd like to look after you properly, wants to treat you the way you deserve, but that'll have to wait. He's unfortunately too fraught with uncontrolled need right now, greedy for his first fuck, to empty his taut balls into your little cunt to make it all creamy for him.

"It's— ah..." Automatically, he starts to jerk at his exposed cock. Letting his precum drip all over your front, a puddle of pre soon forming at your belly button from just how strong his heat is, how strong you've made it, your scent screaming breedable even as he looms over you, leaving him a little dizzy with desire. "It's because you smell so good, I can't— I mean, I tried to hold back but..." but the lust pooling in his tummy is too much to bare, and the way you're looking up at him with such expectation only encourages him to continue, and just seeing you submit so pliantly under him triggers his impulsive behaviours, and—

Mm... There's no use making excuses now. His inhibitions lowering with every passing second that his big cock hovers above you, the wide eyed look you give him back as he slaps his tip against your tummy a little, pressing it right against you, hissing at how good it feels just to even glide his tip against your skin and; "Look," He implores, following your vision down to his heavy cock as he continues to stroke pre out for you. To mark you up with his stink. "Look how big it is. Don't think it's gonna fit all inside..."

And when he looks back up at your pretty face, he's greeted to the sight of your adorable pout. As if you were just as saddened by that fact as he is, nonetheless drawing his hips back to give in to his baser instincts with a final stroke of his cock.

"S'okay. Will stretch my mate out real good, jus' give it time." He promises you, and despite the lewd intentions behind his heat stroke ridden words, he means it. For someone as soft, pliable, easily throwable, and sweet as you, he's willing to wait and train you to take his full size. After all, he's decided that you're his mate now, so you're gonna have to learn eventually. Or rather, nature has willed it so. A scent so alluring, so entrancing? He's but a man, after all. Giving in to his desires as he threatens to shove his cock all the way in at a moments notice.

He'd just rather you wanted too, is all. But it's not that important.

Not like you can escape him anyway, one hand on your hip, the other by your head to keep himself steady. He's much too strong for you, and so much bigger too in every respect. Try to escape his iron grip and he'll easily be able to tug you back down to meet his cock, letting his tip rest against you for just a moment as he steels his nerves.

A shaky sigh later, and his mind is settled. To prove how serious he is, he gives you a concerned look. Pained, almost, from how eager he is to prove himself to you.

"You're gonna be such a good mommy, little mate."

No time to fully recognised your confused expression, already pushing his cock inside of your perfect little mate cunt without warning. Just the tip, really, soaking your insides with his plentiful pre and you're already clawing at him. Nails digging into his tensed up arms, stroking his ego so well, just like how your cunt massages his tip expertly, little cunt sucking him off just the way he likes, like you were fucking made for him, attempting to drag him in further and further despite the way your walls struggle to stretch around his fat girth. Too fucking big for little girls like you, instinctively dipping his head low with a wince when your cunt squeezes him unfairly well. Fucking into you raw feels too fucking good, it's almost embarrassing how much he loves it already. Just the tip, and he's a mess. Panting heavily, periodically squeezing at your side to keep himself focused enough to feel every single clench of your insides.

"Here," He hums, almost begs for you to hear his words in spite of the pheromone haze settling thick in the room. "Hold on t'em. It'll help."

Not only in keeping you grounded enough to feel every agonizing inch of his fat cock splitting you in two, but also more selfishly, he likes it when his horns are grabbed. Feels like you're relying on him a little more, little fists wrapped around his tough horns as he hunches over you like some sort of predator, his body completely encasing your own in the sheer size difference as he humps his tip into you a little too fast for his liking. He doesn't mean it, he doesn't wanna hurt you, it's just that you feel so fucking good, fuck. Like he always knew you would, your hole eagerly doing her best to accept his throbbing cock, the tip finally popping all the way inside with a sickly squelch thanks to his dominating efforts, your cunt soaking his cock with every tiny thrust he offers your small, frail body.

And it's difficult for him to hold back like this, to keep himself in check when you're whining so pretty for him like that. All shy and choked, a mix of pain and pleasure as he takes to rocking your body up and down his cock rather than thrusting inside, the hand on your hip doing all of the work for you as you hide your enjoyment in the sheets below.

He'd love to see you struggle to take his cock, but he understands your reaction. Some hybrids have difficulty, too. The first time can be overwhelming, fucking you selfishly over every throbbing vein of his heavy cock, got him all twitchy and leaking inside of you, doing his best to help ease the glide inside but he only ever truly manages to stuff half of his cock in you before you're tapping out.

"Okay, okay," He grits his teeth at your surrender, allowing you some leeway for managing to even take half of him, a soft cooing tut escaping him at the affection he harbours for you. Pretty little mate, you'll get there eventually. Especially considering it's only the first night of his heat; he'll break you in soon enough. "I'm gonna— Ah, fuck, sorry—"

What he tries to tell you is that he's gonna move, provide you with ample opportunity to fully stop before the point of no return; but his body has other ideas. Pulling his hips back mid speech only to fervently thrust forward again, a brutally unfair pace settled from the get go as his instincts truly take over and he simply cannot fucking help himself from indulging in your meagre, shivering frame. A true treat to a bull like him, pampering himself with heady thrusts and loud grunts, every fast fuck into your over stretched cunt matched with tandem tugs of your pretty body down, made to meet him in the middle, his bed squeaking under the sheer weight of his fucks forwards.

He knows he's made the right choice in mating with you as soon as you start to squirm under him, gasping his name like some sort of mantra for him to drink up, his usual cocky smirk now replaced with an open mouth for him to moan and groan just for you. Drooling precum into you, saliva pooling in his mouth at how tasty your smell has become, how fucking strong it gets now that he's fucking you so full, the knowing that he's only half way inside understandably leaving you a little on edge given how just half his cock is all it takes to have you creaming so well around him. A little ring of it half way up his cock, your relatively tiny hands tugging on his horns as if asking for something else, but you're too stuffed with cock to voice it, aren't you baby?

It's okay, he's a good mate, he can intuit what you want. What you so desperately need, just like him, right? Like a good bitch in heat, you want the same thing he does.

A nice, warm, sticky creampie, huh?

And oh, the way you're sobbing for it so nicely, begging wordlessly with half babbles for more, allowing him to rock your body up and down with every greedy thrust his hips roll into you automatically, driven to impregnate you out of pure need. Like a reflex, or impulse. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as you pull his face closer to your own by way of his horns, his tail flapping behind him in impatience.

Someone as nice and tight as you was made for breeding, right? Little breeding bitch, all for him. Rubbing his nose against your own, taking a greedy inhale of your sickly sweet scent before imprinting his own with opposingly gently nuzzles against your cheek— always mindful of his horns.

"Look at me." He commands, voice rough and throaty from the amount of effort it takes not to just ram his whole fat cock into your perfect little pussy like how he wants to, lifting his head up just a little so that his forehead rests against your own and you can see just how much he wants this. Wants you.

"Want ya t'look at me when I get'cha pregnant."

And to prove his suspicions, it only takes another greedy stoke inside your cunt for your walls to clench down hard around him, mommy body begging for his strong bull seed, yeah? Feel so good cumming around him like that, God, he's not long to follow. Finding it difficult to continue thrusting into your tightly squeezing hole, and yet nevertheless allowing her to milk him as his full, thick seed shoots against your walls. Dumping a fat load right against your cervix, fucking it back into you with relentless thrusts— unintentionally, he just can't stop himself from seeking the too good feeling your cunt swallows his cock with. Thick cream seeping out from around his cock as it gushes out of you, turning your ass and thighs all tacky with his seed when he lowers his body further, keeps you as close to him as possible so that his load is more likely to stick to its intended purpose.

And like that he remains. Heaving against you, he keeps you there for a good minute or so until the wave of pleasure rolls over him and he's offered a miniscule amount of clarity. Enough to view your battered body, how sloppy and messy and stupid you look under him, a silent beg for more on the tip of your tongue as you smile dumbly up at him.

"Already?" He sneers down at you, rubbing his thumb across your cheek with a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose. "Fucked stupid? Oh," His cock twitches inside of you again, warming in your stuffed little hole, keeping his cum plugged inside for your own benefit. Still, he wants.

"We've only just started m'afraid."

#dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #alex the farmhand #alex the farmhand smut #alex🚜

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celticcrossanon · 6 months ago

Note

Hello Celta, just fyi @brf-rumortrackinganon has an ongoing discussion about the Invictus Games whining and begging about the lack of BRF senior representation at the 10th anniversary ceremony.. There was an article written in the Daily Beast by a Harkle sycophant.

Now there’s a Commonality tangent. She surmises that the Harkles will use any kind of success or recognition they receive in the Nigeria trip to try to bully and force the BRF into giving them their half in half out roles, or roles within the Commonwealth. Like lady C is saying, they with their ginormous egos think they are the solution to the problems the BRF faces with the Commonwealth, problems of the Harkles making I might add.

Now with the new tea that Harry is pestering the DOD for a big role in the Warrior Games, it gets even more interesting. IF that tea is true, then it shows that our American friends are aware of what a Hazard Harry is, and they know intimately of the problems that IG is facing and they want no part of his egotistical problems. The WG and IG family is a small one, so they must be well aware.

On a similar note BigFatPsychic did a reading yesterday about rumour about Mike Tyndall joining IG. Her guides/cards tell her that there are discussions behind the scenes, and Harry and Meghan have been told by those loyal to them. They are raging and insecure, and they were the ones putting the story about in the media through Angela Levin (she was Harry’s biographer). BFP says that IG reached out to William to ask him to take over, he said he personally couldn’t as that would cause enormous problems, but he recommended MT. The talks are still ongoing at IG, and nothing’s been finalized yet, but MT is aware that the Harkles are leaking the info, and taking up very defensive and attacking positions against him. Can you just imagine Harry and Meghan and their minions attacking MT in the press? I think he’s the right one to handle them and their shenanigans. He won’t give a toss.

Oy Vey. This summer is shaping up to be a doggy breakfast.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

It is shaping up to be a very messy summer, I agree.

I think something is happening behind the scenes at Invictus as well. There have been too many rumours about how unhappy they are with the Harkles for all to be well. It would be nice if MT took over as their patron, but that is up to them to decide.

I hope that the Warrior Games are well aware of what Harry and Meghan are like. Harry has no right to be part of them. He should stick with the imitation that was made for him (Invictus Games) or hand it off to someone else if he no longer wants it. Milking the IG dry and then running away to another organisation is not a good look.

The BRF can't support the IG. If they do, it will be taken as support of Harry and his behaviour, as the IG is his thing now. I think everyone but Harry can see this (and, apparently, the IG themselves).

The BRF can't give Harry any role within the Commonwealth. They don't have that authority. The only thing they can do is suggest him for a position in a country of which the King is Head of State, and the country has to agree to that.

Harry and Meghan are, using a word I have recently seen, delulu.

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tyitri · 9 months ago

Text

Entangled Heart - Chapter 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Summary: The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted.

The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were.

They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports.

It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

You're part of that fucked ecosystem now together with a few survivors who made an oath to save humanity or at least whats left of it. One of them in particular doesn't seem to like you, everyone calls him Ghost. And you're pretty sure it's not because of the report when you were found nude, nestled between a bush of Goldleaf Fern itself by some Scientists.

Tags: Post Apocalyptic,Slowburn, No use of Y/N, Nicknames, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Mild Gore, Violence.

Wordcount: 2,6k

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

"What do you mean, you're in charge of the medbay for today?"

The chair you were just sitting on tilted backward as you suddenly got up. Your palms slammed onto the typical school desk that had been brought over from the neighboring facility. Old, wobbly, and already smelling musty from years of use. The table had seen better days, probably even before the apocalypse.

"Come on, Milow! Max! You two can't leave me alone with this group!"

You looked at the two of them with concern and disapointment. You were almost sure that Milow would accompany you, if you would ask Desperately.

"Your little sister needs help, so please don't let me hanging, maybe you coulds ask if one of the medics can switch-"

before you could even finish speaking, Max raised his hand to stop you.

"No chance, Ghost explicitly said I should keep an eye on the newcomers. Who knows what they might have brought in."

He took a sip from his steaming cup and looked at the locked door across the room. It had a sign with a radioactive symbol on it, at least you think that that's what is displayed on it. It had seen better days for sure.

"Milow, what about you?"

You looked pleadingly at the gaunt guy, silently sitting in the corner of the old sofa. He was currently solving a crossword puzzle in an old soggy newspaper, but Milow just shook his head and gestured towards Max. He wanted to stay with him

"Alright, I see. Fine, just great."

You narrowed your eyes into slits before a sigh escaped your throat and you repositioned your chair, sitting down in frustration.

The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted. The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were. They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports. It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

There were reports of wandering locusts searching for habitable areas. Fish died due to lack of food. The sun's radiation increased, making daily wandering through the city torture. Then the animals went berserk, attacking their owners as if they were all rabid beasts, and ultimately, people started behaving differently. Once at the top of the food chain, now they fought for survival. But against what? What was the cause of all this? If one glanced out during the day at the streets of Berlin, one could see golden reflections, a shimmer that might lure a greedy fool.

Too late the humandkind realized that it was a mere plant, the Goldleaf Fern that changed people, animals, and the whole ecosystem. No one knew what it really wanted, if it could even think, but in many eyes, it had a goal: to eradicate all life to create something new. There were some who thought differently.

"I won't forget that."

You murmured as a warning. Your feet swung onto the table. Coughing could be heard from the next room, a side effect when exposed to the spores of the Goldleaf Fern. Just recently, the 141 team had rescued a group of survivors from an old collapsed farmhouse.

They talked about being locked up, how the strange plant had blocked their way, as if it came from a completely different genus, the genus of Dinonaer, the Venus flytraps. But you had no idea about that, you couldn't remember anything, at least the two years you apperantly were out there and survived on your own. Milow and Max were in charge of medicine and gardening of useful vegetables. Secretly you were nervous that the tomatoes they harvested last week might turn into concious venusflytraps too. They, along with 6 others, observed the quarantined survivors.

If one of them was infected, surely they all were. Max talked a lot about the events in the quarantine areas when he had the chance to. People died left and right. It usually started with shortness of breath, then with ravenous hunger, and ultimately with plant-like growths and complete brain death.

Despite the morbid disease, Max could never stop making jokes. He teased you about believing as a child that if you swallowed the seeds of a watermelon, a tree would grow inside you. Now that horror had become a reality.

As you looked back at Max and Milow, they strangely raised their gaze as if looking behind you, observing something that made them uncomfortable.

"Morning, Lieutenant."

Came from Max, who then returned to his book. As you leaned your head back to look up at the lieutenant, you were first met with his cold gaze.

"Rookie, we expect you downstairs in five."

Lieutenant Ghost. That's how everyone else here knew him, nobody except for his closest friends knew his real name. Since your arrival, he hadn't been very hospitable or inclusive. You couldn't even answer before he was gone. He was very taciturn and seemed to enjoy making your life a living hell.

He was also in charge of assigning tasks, and more than once, he had given you tasks that were the worst. Cleaning the restrooms, getting rid of any biodegratable trash, so that no plants can access it or the guarding dayshifts. After those dayshifts everyone kept their distance. Understandable noone wants to sit or stand next to a sweaty and sleep deprived piece of shit. The few times he did speak to you, he only asked about your file, which wasnt ready when you departed in the USA, or if you had done your blood test yet. You could deliver neither, and honestly, it probably never would be, not with what the other doctors and scientists at the US base had discovered.

Even in front of Max, you kept the past at bay. After he flew to Germany for his medical studies, everything went downhill. Frank died, and you were left alone in a shitty suburb in the USA. A few old friends of Frank's, from his biker gang, occasionally stopped by, after all, they had known you since you were a child and you had worked in the diner next to their Gas-Station.

You would argue that it had been tough years, had you not retreated into the world of video games and occasionally attempted hacking for some money, albeit unsuccessfully. In hindsight, it would have been much easier to strip in the local pub, had you had enough courage.

You still remember the day when the spores took over their hosts. It was January, doctors suspected a simple flu wave. No one could have guessed that the affected people would become more aggressive, whole stores would be looted, and countless people would die. But once again, it was blamed on something else. Theorists blamed it on some radiation, others thought it was the video games.

No one could have guessed so quickly that it was an unknown plant species posing as a normal shield fern. Biologists only became aware of the plant when it was too late.

"So then Max, Milow, have fun nursing the sick."

You gave them a brief, not entirely serious, contemptuous look.

"Have fun searching for the sick."

Max repeated, grinning.

"Go on, your buddy is probably waiting for you."

He added smugly. Chuckling, you shake your head and leave the break room. The right corridor was guarded by a few other rookies, ensuring that no one left quarantine or entered without permission. So your path was the left one.

With heavy steps, you shuffle along the corridor, your gaze fixed on the wall. The wallpaper was partially torn, probably out of fear of mold or something similar. Sooner or later, everyone would succumb to the Goldfern anyway. A little mold should be the least of the worries. You disliked the smell of the building as much as its appearance. Musty and uninhabitable, but you'll have to manage. With a certain bounce in your step, you took the stairs to the ground floor and headed to the hotel reception, to Jade.

"Evening, Jade."

You lean half on the counter and grin at her warmly. Jade was one of the few female survivors here. Just like you, there were occasional issues with feminine hygiene products.

Since you weren't able to stock them up yourself yet, she was kind enough to share with you, as long as you shared your findings with her.

"Evening, Fern."

She smiled casually at you while checking a vest, as well as a revolver and a rifle.

"Ghost already informed me. Your first outing with the team, huh?"

Her long golden hair fell over her shoulder, down towards the rifle.

"That's right. He seems to talk a lot about me, if thats the case"

You show her a broad grin and accept the equipment she had just inspected and now passed over the counter.

"Might not be a good thing, Take care of yourself, okay?"

Her gentle maternal smile had disappeared, and she now looked at you warningly.

"You know me."

You respond amusedly and casually grab a packet of ammunition. The packet, you can barely grasp properly with your delicate hands; you can still remember when König teased you for it during training in the USA.

"I mean it, Fern. Ghost and his team have often returned without rookies."

You pause and then look at her. "You're just trying to scare me," you reply cautiously, laughing to lighten the mood. She, on the other hand, just shakes her head.

"The last one was shot because he went alone into a building and apparently had official contact with the Goldfern."

She emphasized the 'apparently'.

"Then it was probably his mistake," you say cautiously. Jade rolled her eyes and sighed strenuously.

"Fern, listen to me, even if Ghost and Price have command here, you shouldn't necessarily trust them or turn your back on them. With a snap, you're gone. If you're not worth it, you're gone."

She hissed and roughly placed a knife on the counter, which you promptly stuck into your boot.

Ghost seemed like someone who would shoot you in the head without a second thought if you didn't follow an order. Price, on the other hand, seemed different to you. Neutral. As if he cared about everyone. "Jade, hey. I'll be careful, okay?"

You shoulder the rifle and knock twice on the wooden counter, which wobbled a bit. Already musty.

"Until later."

You give her one of your familiar grins and then quickly head for the exit. Speaking of not following orders. you were late.

"Two minutes late, Rookie."

Atleast his watch was working. Ghost admonished you, looking at you disdainfully. You could be wrong, after all, he almost always looked like that.

"We won't let it happen again, Sir."

You assure, hoping that would be the end of it. He nodded to Price, who then pointed in a direction.

"We're patrolling within a one and a half kilometer radius."

He explained and marched with Ghost leading the way. Just the thought of it made your feet hurt. How much you'd give to sit in the break room with Max and Milo right now, browsing through an old comic or doodling in a magazine. You walked in the middle and kept an eye on your surroundings. You were just starting to register who was there. You could spot another rookie trailing behind Price and Ghost, playing the lapdog.

You knew Soap as well; he was close with Ghost and Price, also pretty team-oriented and accommodating. There weren't any more, probably not necessary anyway.

The world had changed, and honestly, you thought it looked more beautiful than before. Everything was overgrown. The Goldfern seemed to have an influence on the local flora as well. It spread faster and grew better.

Even during dusk, you could see the newly discovered property of the plants luminescing. Probably a mutation or a simple selection of plants that were no longer able to survive and had to find other ways to prevent going extinct.

Surprisingly, the life-threatening environment calmed you, as if it were something familiar, something rooted deep down in your heart.

Suddenly, you ran into the backpack of the person in front of you, and you stumbled back a few steps.

"Watch it."

he hissed, looking at you hostilely. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Soap, amused by your mishap. Price and Ghost had stopped. A figure sat on the road worn down by roots and vines. She was wrapped in fabrics and seemed to be twitching, as if crying.

"Why are we stopping?"

you ask and take a few steps towards the person. Soap held you back by the arm and shook his head.

"Nuh-uh, we don't do that."

Your brows furrow, and you look at him confused.

"Someone needs help, and we have beds available."

But before you could protest, the rookie sprinted ahead of the group and raised his assault rifle. "Damn it, hands up!" He shouted and aimed directly at the figure on the ground. A bit too intense for your likings. The figure stood up but made no noise, no sound.

"Are you deaf, hands up!"

Now Ghost and Price also drew their weapons, aiming at the figure wrapped in rags. You remained rooted to the spot. Soap followed. It's movement were too soft for it to be human.

As you examined the figure, something caught your attention. It seemed not to touch the ground; it seemed to be floating?

There was an unpleasant crack, and the figure seemed to lift its head; it was pale, bony. Its eyes milky. It didn't move on its own; it was as if it was being moved.

"Get back, that thing doesnt seem safe!"

You screamed and tried to reach for the guy. Everything happened so fast; a root shot out from the lifeless body of the figure and surged towards the rookie. The tangle pierced his stomach, and the root, which had formed barbs within seconds, clutched onto his back. A blood-curdling scream pierced through the seemingly pointless hail of bullets which had started only mere milliseconds ago, and he was dragged across the ground slowly, as if the thing was teasing and humiliating us.

The rookie desperately clawed at every uneven surface, hoping to fight against the monstrosity.

His horrified gaze fell upon us, who could only shoot and watch as he was pulled towards a small hole in the wall of the ruin, pleading bitterly.

"Make it stop, get me out of here!"

Shooting at the vine was futile; you'd either hit him or just the ground beside the root. It was a waste of bullets. You watched in horror as the rookie, who had just been alive moments ago, fought against his inevitable death.

"There must be something we can do, damn it!"

Just as you were about to go after him, a final shot rang out from Ghost's direction, abruptly cutting off the screams and pleas.

"Let's go, it's had it's fill,"

the shooter replied disgustedly, throwing you a brief warning glance, as if to say, don't make the same mistake as that idiot.

Just as you were about to turn your head towards the group, you heard a crack and a sound akin to the preparation of meatballs.

He had disappeared into the hole. All that remained were some shreds of fabric and the blood trail leading to his ultimate end. You could only stare into the darkness of the hole for a moment until Soap nudged you in the side and pulled you out of your stupor.

"Come on, we're not waiting long."

With those words, you absentmindedly continued with the others to continue the patrol.

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #simon riley x you #ghost x reader

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yanderecrazysie · 1 year ago

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Dark Horse (Yandere Barbarian Bakugou)

A request from my Quotev!

I’m not entirely sure how to write barbarians, so it might sound a little like a pirate- please forgive me XD

Title: Dark Horse

Pairings: Barbarian!Bakugou x Fairy! Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mentions of violence (not towards reader), Bakugou let her go you jerk

Summary: Bakugou is a bloodthirsty human and, you, a sweet animal-loving fairy. Can you really expect a barbarian to move on without you?

“So you wanna play with magic?

Boy, you should know what you're fallin' for

Baby, do you dare to do this?

'Cause I'm coming at you like a dark horse

Are you ready for, ready for

A perfect storm, perfect storm?

'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine

There's no going back”

-From “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry

It was no secret that Bakugou was a killer. A bloodthirsty beast of a man. A barbarian.

He lived his days like a carnivorous animal- ripping and tearing others apart for his own gain. Betraying his own comrades if necessary, killing his enemies with a savage, sadistic grin. Notoriously known throughout the world as a merciless monster. The only thing he cared about was wealth and materialistic treasures he took as his own by threats or his blade.

At least, that’s what he thought.

He was sure his heart had rotten away and numbed to every human emotion long, long ago.

But then he saw you.

At first he’d thought you were just another village girl but, one day, when he’d been napping under a tree on a hill overlooking a meadow, he’d discovered that you were much more.

You sang a song with words he couldn’t understand, and beautiful wings sprouted from your back. All of the animals in the area, even ones he hadn’t seen before, ran or flew to you at full speed and waited for your attention.

After gently stroking the fur, feathers, and scales of each creature, you began to glow brightly, shrinking down to the size of a small mouse as your wings grew even larger. If Bakugou hadn’t watched you transform, he’d assume he was just seeing a particularly beautiful butterfly.

At first, Bakugou was content to watch. He discovered that you did this multiple times a day and he tried to be present for each transformation. He discovered that you glowed at night. He discovered that you could talk to the animals that surrounded you.

He discovered that you made his heart twist and soar in ways he didn’t think was possible.

Was it fascination that drove him to watch you? Magic was something many barbarians sought to control to multiply their powers. And fantasy creatures like you were beyond rare.

Somehow, he knew it was more than that. His dreams all featured you in his lap as he pet your soft flower-woven hair and delicate wings, after all.

He longed for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt your routine, too content to watch you undisturbed like some sort of voyeuristic creep. However, his comrades grew restless staying in the same boring town, and Bakugou knew he had very little time left to watch you.

It made him feel sick, to think he’d have to leave you behind, the unexplored lands no longer bringing him any joy to think of. He went so far as to confide in his closest comrade, Kirishima, about you.

The redhaired barbarian grinned, his sharklike teeth glinting in the light, “Bring her with.”

Bakugou wished he could bring you with him at your full size, but he doesn’t know how to stop you from shrinking and escaping him or getting yourself hurt. Therefore, he only has one option.

You were never aware he was watching you when you did your daily rituals before, so perhaps you won’t notice if he gets closer. If all goes well, you won’t notice until it’s too late.

Until the glass jar becomes your prison for the rest of your life.

#yandere #yandere my hero academia #yandere one shot #my hero academia #one shot #yandere x reader #yandere mha #yandere bakugou #bakugou katsuki

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s0lar-ch3ri · 5 months ago

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Paranomally Hotline #1: Introduction

Many people have their own beliefs. They follow in their own superstitions, read about all kinds of monsters, and we hear about new creations of creatures and places daily. Inspired from already set up and built legends, or entirely original myth, you may have made some ideas yourself. At the very least, you've heard of one. However, to the average person, a myth is all they remain.

Sometimes though, the average person isn't so lucky, and stumble apon a truth: these "tall tales" are fact, not fiction, and could come for you at anytime. With the knowledge that these creatures exist, surviving them can be difficult when nobody you turn to has an idea of what you're facing.

Not, unless, you're calling the Paranomally Hotline.

Specialized in dealing with all entities and creatures of out this world, the Paranomally Hotline believes those who call and will help guide you to safety. Available whenever you need (some places may have more or less then 24 hours available), someone skilled and trained for your kind of situation is there to talk to.

If you don't know who to call, ring the numbers-

"God damn, they play whatever on these fuckin things." A man, appearing about mid 30s, turns the TV off. He gets ready for work, brushing his teeth and getting food to eat. He waves goodbye to his wife, a woman with black hair, and walks into the busy sidewalks. Walking among the people, bag on his side, he keeps going until he reaches a corner.

The scene has changed. As he turns this corner, he runs, panicked, running out of breath. He can't run forever, and hiding feels like a death trap. A creature roars out behind him, and all he wants is to go home, back before this happened.

"Someone please come save me, Lord I beg of you now, spare my soul of this fate just a bit longer," he mutters to himself as he slips into an alleyway. Through his panicked thoughts, something slips into his mind, a crystal clear one: a phone number. As he turns on his phone, which he wasn't even aware still had battery, already has a number put in. Not in a state to question it, he hurriedly rings it.

"Hello, you've reached the Paranominally Hotline, here to help with all entities and paranormals, what's got your ghost?"

"Y-you gotta help me! Th-there's a- a thing! And it's chasing me! And- and- I just want to go home, see my wife again!"

"That's what we're going to do. Now, to help figure out how I can assist you, I'll need you to answer a couple questions. First, do you believe you are still in our world, or does it seem home to somewhere else?"

"Wha-what are y- Yeah, no, it- it's all red- the sky- and it's bleeding- oh my god I didn't notice, it's fucking bleeding- I gotta get out of here-"

"Alright, let's keep a level head sir. When did you get here, and if you remember, how?"

He jumped, hearing a loud roar from this creature. "T-today, maybe 3-30 minutes, 25, gi-give or take. I went into the closet at my job and- look, can we hurry this up? There's s-something ch-ch-chasing me, and I think it's going to k-kill me."

"Alright. This is a very necessary procress, but I have an idea on how to help. Can you make it back to where this closet was?"

"Th-that's the way the monster i- you're trying to fucking kill me!"

"Sir, please. I'm trying to get you home. If you can make it over, and I'm thinking of the right thing, grab the string of the lamp above and pull it to turn off the light."

"No- why should I fucking trust yo-"

Another roar plays out. It's closer.

"...Are-"

"If I’m fucking killed, call my wife and tell her I love her."

"Of course."

The man breaks into a sprint and heads out. His legs are aching, but he has to make it, he has to. Looking straight ahead, he goes straight past the beast, about 30 feet tall and blurry as it roars again, following behind. The man begins to silently sob as he sees the building he exited from up ahead. Running inside, he closes the door of the strange building and locks it as best as he can. He runs down a hallway, where a brown closet door awaits him. It's a dingy closet, brown shelves and a blue school chair. Nothing more or less. He slams the door shut as he hears breakage outside and the loud stomps of feet. Muttering a prayer, he grabs the string of the closet's lightbulb and yanks it down as hard as he can.

Everything goes black, but he finds himself on the floor of the closet. It's a storage one, filled with boxes and shelf racks, the same one he walked into, although one of the shelves has been knocked over just inches from where he once laid unconscious. As he questions what just happened, the reality of what he just faced, he hears his phone hang up, the caller name showing.

The Paranominally Hotline.

#Paranormal Callings (And How We Got You Out)#the bright smoothie of words #WE GOT THE FIRST ONE WRITTEN BABBYYYYYYY #gonna draw it like comic style as i plan out chapter 2 :3

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