#this is the jungle corner from which i whine :)

[ladyinthebluebox]

hyperfixation station is ready to go 🤡

[jakesangel]

jake teaching you how to play soccer ꣑୧

it's a sunny day outside and your boyfriend is too excited to stay put together come on baby, i want to show you how good i am in soccer he says as he lets go of your hand and start to jump walk towards the fields. you wathc him as he starts to run into grass, throwing the ball at his feet, starting to jungle with it. he keeps on doing it until you sit on the side bench, not wanting you to miss anything. youre looking at me right ? he yells at you, a hand over his eyes as the sun shines bright. his previous n childish demeanor makes you smile. you show him a thumbs up, signaling him he can start.

after 30 minutes of solo effort from jake and cheers from you, he sits on the grass too tired to keep on going. you comes down the bench and bring him a water bottle you had in your purse. thank you, my love, he thanks you with his full smile of his. sit down with me ? he politly ask. as you sit down, he lays on his back, laying his arm to being you close which you gladly accept, your head fitting perfectly in between his chest n his open arm. he looks at you, waiting for his much deserved compliments, so ? how was i ? he eagerly ask, looking down on you, his smile is still plastered on his face, i was so sexy wasnt i~~ he playfully flirts with you. you hit him in the chest, making the both of you giggle loudly. i guess you were good, you fake sympathy with him. just good ? he lifts himself, drapping an arm over you, i was amazing are you crazy, baby, he keeps on talking with a little smirk of his. he sits on you, both legs around your hips and he tickles you hard, making you jolt in a laugh. come on say it, he says playfully as he keeps making you you lose your breath. and as much as can try to tell him what he wants, he is suing his skilled hands so he can bear his laugh. he is confident in his soccer skills, and you don't really know as much as him, but hearing your giggle when you hit his chest brought something out of him. y- yes,, you were amazing jake ! once said, he stops but stays on top of you, admiring your scattered hair on the grass or to hear your fading laugh.

can i teach you how ? he ask, eyes filled with need of need to play with you. his smile gets impossibly brighter and kisses the tip of your nose before standing up and leading you a hand to help you stands as well. okay so let's try passing hm ? he tells you as he walks backwards, ball in the hand. once he thinks he is far away enough, he throws the ball at his feet and show you how to hit it. basically you don't use your toes but the inside of your feet, that way you have more control, okay baby ? you nod as his instructions, his instructions being clear. he kicks the ball like he explain you how to, and you so the same, hitting it towards his direction. ooh baby, you're doing great, he exclaims as the ball arrived right into his feet. he stops it and start jogging with it towards you. okay i don't think you need the basic training, let's do goals, he says kissing your temple, let's go.

jake i cant do it, please let's stop there. you whine to him. he's been training to hit the goal at a specific area, the right corner. you've successfully hit the rest but this one seems impossible to you. he gets the ball n instead of hitting he comes towards you with it. he brings one arm to yours, his thumb stroking your skin there babe i'm sure you can do it, just last one yeah ? his comforts along with his reassuring eyes convince you to give it a last try. okay, you tell him. he quickly smiles at you before putting the ball right in front of your feet, okay so to hit that corner you need to have your body slightly going forwards that side, he explains as his hands position your feet. he trails slowly them as he goes up ur legs, until they arrive to your hips, raising your goosebumps. he back hugs you, and whisper, don't forget to hit it with the inside of ur foot baby, finishing his explanation with a kiss on ur cheek. he backs up from you, letting you have space to hit and the ball. you close your eyes and take a breath to focus ; his touch always made you fuzzy and today wasn't an exception, in fact, all day long, he's been all over you, cheering you up with tight hugs and kisses when you scored goals. you know if you're hitting this one, he is going to be the happiest and you want to make him proud. so you take your time.

YEAH BABY YOU MADE IT, you hear from behind you as the ball hit the red cardboard. he backs hugs you hard, you fall on the floor but he is quick to make sure you fall on him. up, i knew you could do it baby ! im so so so proud of you, he says pampering your face. you can only giggle and accept his burst of affection.

notes : i'll personally pretend i'm not good so jake could kiss me all the time 🥰

perm tag list ( open ) : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @hoonored @jlheon @ghostiiess @river-demon-slayer

[byunpum]

Hifwo

Pair: Neteyam x Y/N human reader

Warning: All characters are in their 20s (grow up), flirting, size difference, mmm I think nothing else

Request: (Anon) I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall...

AVATAR MASTERLIST

It was the fourth time Neteyam had checked that you were safe in the place where he had left you. You wanted to go hunting with him. Lo'ak had invited you to go for a walk with him and spider, kiri and tuk but you preferred to be with him. He liked you to stay with him, so you would see and learn how to hunt. But on the other hand, he was a little nervous about you being in a place as dangerous as the jungle of pandora. You were a human, anything was bigger than you, including him. Neteyam comes down from the branch he was on, causing him to make a startling noise as he falls right in front of you. You look up in alarm, and frustrate your brow. "teyam you scare me!!!" you whine a little, but your attention returns to the notebook in your hands. You were drawing some mushrooms that were next to you, they were very brightly colored.

"Sorry babe, but you're distracting me" neteyam says, coming a little closer to sit right in front of you. Touching your naked feet, he liked to play with your little toes. You laugh when you feel his cold hands, touching your feet. "Me? Why? I haven't moved from here" you speak, working on your drawing. "'Babe…" neteyam pauses, lowering his head to your knee, to kiss you on the knee. You look up, laughing at the action. You knew that neteyam's way of showing affection was more physical than yours, at first it made you uncomfortable. But by now you were used to it. This poor man was just asking to be loved and pampered after a busy day of chores that his father usually ordered him to do.

"You are so small, any creature could eat you" says neteyam, now he was sitting down. You laughed at his comment, you knew he was right. But you were not as weak as you looked, you knew you could run away from any creature. "Teyam you offend me, you know? I think I am very good at running away, not fighting…but I can run fast" you speak, with a tone of playfulness. Neteyam just looked at you with adoration, you were so cute. "Mmm I don't think so" says Neteyam. You lift your back a little off the back you were sitting on. Giving a punch to neteyam's chest, neteyam just watches as your punch doesn't have any effect on him. "Ok, I give up… but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to run away" you say.

Neteyam is silent for a moment, he was thinking what he would do in his next move. He chuckles to himself, as he begins to rise to his knees. " You think you can run away, ah?" asks neteyam in a flirty tone. As he lines up and slides over your body. Which in a matter of seconds, was covered by neteyam's. His whole body created a blanket that covered every view you had of you, raising your head to see neteyam's cute face. He had an idiot's grin on his face, analyzing how small you had become underneath him. You try to speak, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a 'I-hum-'. You were blushing so hard, damn it he knew the effect it had on you. Netayam bends lower, so that he is now close to your ear.

You could feel his breathing, his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. "The creatures I speak of are much larger than me… they would have no mercy on you" neteyam places one of his hands, on the side of your thigh. Squeezing the soft skin, moving his palm gently up and down. Your breathing becomes more heaving, it was making you very nervous. "They would devour you in seconds" neteyam now leaves a kiss on your neck. Causing you to giggle from the tickle. "Nete…" you whimper a little. The feeling in your lower belly was building up, but he just replies you with a 'hmmm' as he continues to leave kisses on your shoulders and neck. You were grateful for the outfit kiri had prepared for you, it allowed neteyam to have all the access he wanted to your body.

"would you like to know how long it would take me to devour you?" neteyam pauses from kissing, waiting for an answer from you. You, as best you can, place your hands on the sides of her face. Your hands were so small, you could barely hold part of his jaw. You approach him to give him a soft kiss on the lips, now making eye contact with him (if you want to know more about the type of oxygen mask the reader uses 'read here'). Neteyam gives you a smile, and copies your movements. But now he settles more on the ground, so that he lies more on his stomach. Causing you to spread your legs, allowing him to settle more on top of you. Kissing your neck, moving down your chest to leave some wet kisses. Feeling your hands tangle in his hair, feeling your hands push him further down…right where you were needing him most.

Kissing and giving a few soft bites on your stomach. Enjoying the difference in texture of your skin, so soft and delicate. Dragging his body further back, placing his hands on either side of your hips. You now bring your legs up, watching as one of neteyam's hands moves one of your knees to open the space between your legs.

You two were so intent on your business that you had barely heard the lazy noises that were approaching you. Neteyam in a quick, and almost minimal movement moved up towards your lips giving you a sloppy kiss. "I don't see you running…don't you plan to run away?" he joked, seeing how your cheeks were pink, your mouth half open. And your pupils dilated, waiting for him to do what he wants with you. "So pretty" says neteyam.

"ahhhh my eyes!!!" screams spider. Neteyam and you look in the direction where the scream came from. Noticing lo'ak, kiri and spider. Even tuk…who had her mouth open. Spider runs up to tuk and covers her eyes. You push as hard as you can on neteyam, and he quickly sits up. Trying to adjust some of the clothes he had moved from his previous actions. Neteyam crosses his legs tightly and tries to cover his growing bulge with his hands. "You two can't be doing your stuff over here" kiri speaks, the girl was furious. You shift your gaze, you were embarrassed.

"I don't see you running,eh?" lo'ak tries to imitate neteyam's voice. "You can go…why don't you take tuk to the village" says neteyam, sounding annoyed. His brothers were still bothering him, and you were hiding more on the log.

The group of boys walk away, but if not before they continue to joke about the scene they just saw. Neteyam looks at you, and can see that you are almost completely hidden in a bush that was next to you. And he couldn't contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?" you are embarrassed, the least you wanted is for your friends to see you in that situation. Neteyam approaches you again, placing his hand on your neck. "I see you can really run away…you're practically hiding in this corner" neteyam bends down to brush his nose against yours. "How about we go somewhere else…yeah?" says neteyam. You stare at him for a couple of seconds, quickly picking yourself up off the ground starting to run as fast as you can. Listening as neteyam laughs, and starts to get up from the ground. Letting you run for a while, after all it was only fair that he gave you a head start.

[runningfrom2am]

could we get a blurb where rafe saves reader at a party?

it's gets a little handsy for her with some of his friends and one of them tries to go too far and rafe saves her?

thank you for this request omg!! i hope it lives up to your expectations (even tho its a little long to be a blurb oops-) and i'm sorry this took me so long!

get the fuck off her - r.c.

pairing: rafe x fem!kook!reader

wc: 2.4k

tags/warnings: angst, comfort, implications of attempted sa, intentional use of lowercase, violence (kinda), some generally triggering stuff so please if any of this is upsetting for you please go read something else!

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

"you're not funny kelce, has anyone ever told you that before?" you raise an eyebrow at your friend, talking loudly over the blaring music as you cross your arms over your chest.

"actually no, that's a first." kelce replies snarkily, mocking your posture. "you're lying though, babe- i know you think i'm hilarious."

you roll your eyes, a smile still present on your face. your pupils are blown, lids drooping slightly as you immediately forget the interaction and sway with the music.

"c'mon, you know you love me." kelce chuckles, stepping closer and placing his hands on your waist. you laugh, brushing his hands off smoothly.

rafe is biting into the rim of his plastic cup as he watches, previously enjoying a sip of whatever jungle juice someone had left on the counter. he's watching closely, and though you laughed it off, he knew you well- and he knew you weren't a big fan of being touched. kelce should know better too.

it's only a matter of minutes before it happens again, topper approaching the group and slinging his arm over your shoulder which you don't even process with the concoction of substances mixing in your bloodstream.

"rafe, man, your sister's a bitch, bro." topper whines, leaning into you further.

"that so?" rafe chuckles, watching topper's arm slide down to your back.

"yeah, she's leading me on, then fucking off and leaving me high and dry." he explains vaguely. "i bet you wouldn't do that to me, would you, sweetheart?" he says to you, hand sliding lower, lower, until his fingers reach the bottom of your shirt and the skin of your back.

"i don't think it's personal, top. have you tried talking to her about it?" you suggest, wrapping your arms around yourself, subtly holding the hem of your shirt down.

topper rolls his eyes, leaning closer to make sure you hear him as you lend him your ear. "i just hate talking though... don't you?" he says, lips brushing over the skin of your neck.

"you're drunk, top..." you laugh nervously, very briefly making eye contact with rafe standing across from you in the small circle you've created.

"hey, what'd he say?" rafe asks over the music, brow furrowed with the instant rush of sobriety.

you smile nervously at him. "nothing... he's just being weird." you chuckle, shaking your head and trying to move away. "i'm gonna go get another drink. i'll be back." you squeeze out of toppers grip and walk off through the crowd towards the corner where you hid your cooler.

you bop your head along to the mac miller song that started on your way over, humming along to the tune and laughing a little at other people chanting along to the lyrics. you quickly grab another drink out of the cooler before shoving it back in the mostly empty cupboard and closing it again.

"she's not gonna fuck you, bro. i'll tell you that right now." rafe shakes his head at his friend, taking another sip of the overly sweet drink.

"have you seen her? it's well worth the shot if the worst she can say is no." topper laughs, and rafe clenches his jaw, looking again over the crowd to try and keep an eye on you. "the best she can say is absolutely, and she's into me, i can tell."

"oh, can you now?" rafe mumbles, eyes landing on you at last as you close the cupboard and crack open your can. if you had any feelings for any of the boys you regularly hung out with, it was a secret to him. you were a puzzle to him, despite your friendly and sometimes flirty personality.

"yeah, but she's not gonna let me hit with you clowns around. i'll be back, or not." topper laughs, pushing back through the crowd in the direction of you.

rafe decides to let him go. you could make your own decisions, and clearly, you were going to say no, and topper would come sulking back in a few minutes after striking out. he watched as topper made it up to you, starting a conversation. you were laughing, and he figured that was a good time to let you handle yourself.

except for a few moments later, when he looked up from his conversation with kelce and another girl that appeared by his side, to see you with your back to the wall in a corner, topper standing over you.

"hey, i think we should get back to the guys..." you chuckle nervously, taking a step back and hitting the wall.

"why? i told them we'd be a while." topper smirks, hands once again finding your waist and sliding under the hem of your shirt.

"well i didn't, i said i'd be back and-"

"get that stick out of your ass, won't you? we're having fun." he insists, leaning down over you and brushing his lips over your jaw.

you bite your lip nervously, scanning the room to see if there's anyone near enough to talk to to pull yourself out of this situation. "top, please, i don't want to do this can we just head back?"

"i know you want to give me a shot, you won't regret it..." he mumbled against your skin, hands sliding up farther under your shirt as the sound of your heartbeat echoed over the music in your ears.

you panic, trying weakly to just push him off at this point and create any kind of distance between the two of you as his hands press into your skin. "please don't topper, you're drunk..." you say, but it comes out whinier than you intended. the disconnect between your mind and your body is showing, and you can see that as you're fumbling to get your hands to reach his shoulders just enough to get him to back off. you didn't need to, when a moment later he was pulled back with a force unforeseen by either of you.

"get the fuck off her, man."

it's rafe, and he's angry. you've seen him like this before, sure, but the look behind his eyes is new as he shoved topper away, dropping the grip he held on the back of his shirt. "rafe, c'mon." topper chuckles, adjusting his shirt and rubbing the front of his neck where the fabric had dug into his skin.

just as quickly, rafe's fist was gripping the front of his shirt again, getting face to face with him. "no, she was literally pushing you off and you didn't take that as a no?" rafe's forehead is almost pressed to toppers as he backs him into the kitchen island.

"rafe!" you shout, voice shaky as you try to get his attention. "let him go, it's fine."

rafe looks back over his shoulder at you, standing with your arms crossed tightly over your stomach. he sighs, dropping the fabric before turning to you. "you okay, y/n/n?" he asks, shaking out his fist.

you nod shakily, pulling your shirt back down from where it had ridden up with the disturbance.

"you sure?" he asks again, looking you up and down with concern drawn between his brows.

you continue to nod, looking around now for where topper had put down your drink when he took it out of your hand to back you into the wall. "i'm fine... just, yeah. it's fine." you chuckle awkwardly.

"no, it's not. come on. i'll walk you home, yeah?"

"rafe, c'mon, she said it's fine. she can stay longer." kelce interjects, having followed him over.

rafe throws his hands up in frustration as he turns to his friends. "shut the fuck up, kelce! i'll beat the shit out of both of you. seriously, i don't give a shit." he turns back to you. "c'mon, i'll grab your bag. lets get you out of here."

as rafe leads you away, you avoid eye contact with his friends, arms still crossed to quell your shakiness. rafe pulls your cooler bag back out of the cupboard and throws it over his shoulder before guiding you to the door. you're relieved to feel the cool sea breeze hit your skin, you didn't even realize how stuffy it was and how claustrophobic you felt until you got outside and you could finally breathe again.

"seriously, are you okay?" rafe asks again, feeling nervous that you only said it was fine before because there were so many people around. he's still tense, angry, but he's making an effort to seem calm since now he's alone with you.

"yeah, uh, yeah. fine." you nod softly, staring down at your feet as you make your way to the sidewalk. "just... a little shaken up, i guess."

rafe adjusts your bag over his shoulder, then proceeds to rub his hand over his forehead. "i'm sorry, that was shitty."

"it happens, unfortunately..." you laugh awkwardly, trying to shrug it off.

rafe looks down at you as you walk, still avoiding eye contact with him. "has top done that before? i'll go back and-"

"no! no, he's never done that before." you assure him. "i don't know, like, going to a party around a bunch of people you kind of know and kind of don't know is never... comfortable. it's hard to get comfortable and then when you do something like that happens and-" you laugh to yourself. "sorry, i shouldn't rant to you about this."

"no, by all means." rafe replies, urging you on. "you can tell me anything."

"thanks, but i think i'm done." you grin, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you walk.

"does that actually happen to you like... often?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

"not often, and its never been that scary- i guess?" you explain. "just sometimes, some guy will touch me or say something and i just get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong and it's hard to shake. it sticks with you. more often than not if you say no they'll retaliate, either get mad or spread lies about you or whatever. so i just kind of.. freeze. when you don't know what to do, sometimes you don't do anything and you just have to laugh it off. it is what it is, i guess."

"right." rafe nods, deep in thought over what you had said. "so what i'm hearing, is that you never actually slept with devin?"

you laugh at this, tone still slightly wobbly. "i told you i didn't, remember?"

"ah, yes. you did tell me that." rafe remembers how sitting at the country club bar together just weeks prior he had asked you about this rumour and you denied it, shaking your head as you sipped on a virgin daiquiri. "i didn't really believe it anyways. devin's a prick." 

"he really is." you agree, looking up now at the sky. "thank you, by the way," you add, looking over at your friend now for the first time since you left. you're met with confusion in his eyes as he returns your gaze. "for, like, rescuing me."

"i shouldn't have had to. that was fucked." rafe shakes his head. "don't thank me, that's so... twisted. if topper could have gotten through his thick skull that maybe you're not into him-"

"he thinks i'm into him?" you laugh, eyes wide now.

"well, hopefully not anymore." rafe chuckles. "but knowing him, he still probably doesn't get it. i'll talk some sense into him."

"please do." you sigh. "he won't believe it from me, apparently."

"honestly, i don't think i can look at him for the next week." rafe admits.

"tell me about it."

another few moments of silence follow. "you know, you don't have to hangout with us. if we make you uncomfortable we can keep our distance."

"you're the only one who never has." you smile at him. "surprisingly." you add teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his arm.

"what's that supposed to mean?" rafe chuckles, already knowing it was a joke.

you just shrug in response. "you know, you're whole 'bad boy' rep you've got going on."

"i can still be cool and like... not make girls uncomfortable. that's actually kind of the point."

"that's a good point." you agree. "the girls do flock to you."

rafe rolls his eyes at this, smiling as he shakes his head. "not that... that's what i want. it just kind of happens."

"so you get it?" you giggle, feeling the shakiness you previously had finally slightly subsiding.

"well, no. when i tell them to fuck off they... you know, fuck off." he laughs.

"ah- what a pleasure that must be." you joke, stopping as you're now standing in front of your driveway. "thanks for walking me home. it was hard to breathe in there."

rafe stops too, looking down the long driveway to your house. "of course, anytime." he nods, looking at you for a moment before he realizes you're waiting for your bag. "shit, sorry..." he laughs, dropping it from his shoulder and handing it back to you.

"all good." you grin, taking it and putting it on.

"well, I've got to get going. i have a guy to beat up, so..."

as he turns away, you speak to him again. "rafe, don't." your voice is quieter now, and as he looks back at you he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. "please." you add, so softly he's sure if he didn't see your lips moving he wouldn't have heard it. "it'll just make it worse... i just want to forget about it."

"okay, hey, hey- i was kidding. i won't touch him." rafe is quick to backtrack, holding a hand out to grab your shoulder but he hesitates, dropping it again. "are you sure you're okay?"

that's when the floodgates open, and your hands are flying up to your face to cover it as you start to sob. the shock had worn off by now, and the reality of what could have happened was setting in. rafe didn't know what to do, looking around to make sure no one could see. "y/n... what can i do?" he asks, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and tell you how safe you are, that everything is okay, but he knows touching you probably wouldn't be wise.

you can't answer. you can hardly breathe as you feel your chest tightening. you try and laugh, wiping your eyes and looking up at him. you wish he wasn't seeing this. you shake your head, deciding to just sit down on the grass.

rafe sits next to you, tucking his knees up to his chest like you had, crossing his arms over top. "you're safe, y/n/n." he tells you, leaning his head on his forearms and watching you. "can i stay with you?"

at this you just move a little closer, leaning your forehead onto his shoulder instead. he freezes up, just for a second, before moving so he can brace his hand on the ground behind you. "I've got you. i'm not going anywhere..."

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe

[zwhoreo]

getting high with luffy?

ok so i have never been intoxicated or done any substances in my life so this may be extremely inaccurate, but idc it turned out cute

intoxication - luffy x gn!reader

fluff

summary: while exploring an island, you and luffy accidentally eat a fruit that gives you a mild high

contains: as the name suggests, intoxication (no actual drugs), reader gets some anxiety symptoms at the end

words: 1.3k

________________________

A warm breeze flutters your hair as you follow Luffy through the jungle brush, palm fronds waving above you as you begin your exploration. You have to tell Luffy to slow down, a few times actually, he’s so excited about this lush world you have yet to discover that he’s running and tripping over his feet and you don’t want to lose him.

But he keeps looking over his shoulder in an are you seeing this? and a c’mon, we don’t have all day! sort of smile because he really wants to share this with you.

It’s over waterfalls you go, wading through streams, birds crying overhead. You’re really in such a beautiful place, set loose in the jungle to play as the crew stays back on the beach. The sun is warm and white against your skin and everything feels peaceful but alive.

Luffy has taken to grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him because you’re going too slow. He swings between cliffs from tree limbs with you wrapped in his arms, he’s been loud and you don’t think he’s even blinked in a while because he’s just so excited to look at all the new things around him.

But eventually he starts to whine into your neck that he’s getting hungry. You’re far away from the ship and Luffy seems like he needs to eat something right then or he’ll be uncomfortable, and although you’re usually good at remembering snacks you just didn’t have time to pack them today.

Luffy seems eager to catch one of the wild pigs you’ve seen running through the underbrush but you tell him you’d be better off finding some fruit to eat, there’s a grove next to the waterfall you just crossed.

The wild fruit is the size of the palm of your hand and electric pale blue like a sky through clear water. Luffy climbs the tree immediately and begins to pick them, sitting on a branch precariously, eating messily, but he drops a couple down to you as you stand below.

“These’re real good, [name!]” he chirps, looking at you happily.

“C’mon! Come down and sit by me!” You open your arms for a hug, and Luffy falls from the tree right on top of you, shoving you down into the soft grass.

He sits there on you, still eating his fruit, every so often sticking it down in your face so you can get a bite.

And you’re both happy and content for a few minutes, basking in the sun and the mist of the waterfall and each other’s warmth and closeness.

He begins to feel heavier on you after a few minutes, or maybe, as you soon suspect, it’s just that you’re becoming more aware of your own senses, because everything is brighter and louder and more there. But yet the sky seems to swim so calmly above you, you’re entranced. You feel Luffy’s fingers lazily running up and down your cheek. His face is close to yours now, breath heavy, you’re relaxed and joyful and Luffy’s eyes seem to sparkle even more right now, dark and deep but shining like sunlight piercing an ocean trench. You get lost in him, mouth open and unable to speak. Those eyes get more hooded the longer you stare, glazing over, pupils taking over the iris completely.

He begins to giggle in short, breathy gasps and falls right onto your shoulder, rolling off of you. The pain of the impact itself is strangely dull although the warmth ricochets throughout you. He drones a soft “c’meree…” as drools seeps from the corner of his mouth and he reaches out for you.

Suddenly feeling so clingy you follow his arms immediately, not caring about the dirt on your clothes. His laughter is warm on your face. He gets close enough to nip your cheek which seems to electrify your every limb from the ground up. A dreamlike filter falls on the world around you, Luffy swims in mosaics of the clouds behind him.

Inhibition leaves you and you feel one with Luffy all of a sudden, laughter and joy matching one another, squirming on the ground into each other’s arms, his salty, musky scent becomes so raw and wonderful against your nose all of a sudden. You both want to just fly away.

You can’t really tell what he’s saying but he sounds like the only person in the world. And the birds sound like dinosaurs and the waterfall sounds like a thunderstorm and Luffy’s arms lift you a million light years above the earth, he holds you as he wavers in place, still seeming fascinated by your eyes and your lips like he’s never seen them before, a finger tracing every outline of your face.

“Hehe… pretty…” he slurs, headbutting your neck in slow affection. You grab onto his hair and give his ear a gentle little bite.

So for what seems like a thousand years but also just half an instant you lay there in peace, true relaxation wrapping you in a blanket of muted euphoria. But threads of unease begin to spear at your mind. You don’t really know where you are anymore, all of a sudden. Luffy’s arms feel farther and farther away.

You start to crave the stable reality that’s slipping away.

“Hey… Luffy… I wanna get down…” You begin to wriggle feebly in his embrace and Luffy complains with a sound of drawn out frustration because he really doesn’t want to let go of you.

It’s only when your distress clearly shows in your face that Luffy’s daze is broken. He sets you down and becomes alarmed as he feels your heart pounding beneath his hands. He isn’t able to find any words, though. His mind feels so blank.

You’re getting anxious and your mind, unlike Luffy’s, is so full with every thought you could imagine. You find everything you can to be paranoid about, all at once.

“Luffy? Do you think we’re lost? Do you think the others are looking for us?” You murmur, feeling like your whole world is glass about to shatter.

“Nah, we’re fine, [name!] C’monnn… don’t worry…” Luffy tilts his head and stumbles a bit, trying to take you into his arms again.

You stand very still and close your eyes. The world sings around you but you stay still and breathe very, very slowly. You ground yourself in only the dirt that supports your feet, in the warm breeze that raises hairs on your skin. And Luffy knows that this is important right now, although he doesn’t know exactly why, so he sits down and plucks at the grass nervously and watches you in a wordless silence.

You’re ready and you reach for his hand.

The high is still there, a pleasant hum through your veins and a cloudy mist covering the world, you’re still very aware, but you’re feeling better. You’re more here again. Luffy’s hand is firm and warm in your grasp, he rubs his thumb over your palm. He’s still giving you small kisses every few minutes, unable to hold himself back right now. You link your arm in his at some point as you walk to the ship, needing security, needing something so you won’t float away again, and Luffy holds you eagerly like an anchor in the sea of your dream-filled mind.

And you wonder if maybe you’ll tell Sanji about the fruit, just for future reference.

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on A03

Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Completed 5/7/24)

Chapter Two: The Jungle

Violet Harris was not a morning person. If she had it her way, it would be a federal crime to have to wake up before sunrise; a mandated article in which all would have to follow. She would be able to snuggle down into her bed until long after the sun rose without disturbance. But alas, she was not a lawmaker, and the world began before daybreak whether she was ready for it or not. 

She awoke that morning like any other; with Sadie hovering over her, breathing her hot breath into her face and kissing her nose, her paws finding every sensitive point of her body as she crawled atop her. Violet lifted a hand to block the dog, squinting at the chrono perched on her bedside table, the red numbers glowing back a dismal 5:55am. She sighed and gave Sadie a scratch behind the ears. 

“I have five more minutes, you know,” she said. The dog tilted her head curiously at the woman’s words.

She chuckled and rubbed her eyes before she threw off the covers. Sadie jumped down and pranced over to the bedroom door to pace with an expectant whine. Violet rose, fumbling around in the still too-dark room for the leggings and sweater she had set out the night before. She had always found it quite comical how her dog was a morning ‘person’, while she tragically was not. She had taken Sadie on a run at six in the morning once and the pup had never let it go. Every morning since she woke Violet up with a frenzy of wet kisses and whines despite her best efforts to bargain with her for a later wake up time. 

Sadie continued to pace, turning herself in circles before she leaned into a deep stretch and bared her teeth in a wide, squeaking yawn. Violet pulled her sweater over her head and yanked up the half zipper before crossing the room to open the bedroom door. The dog slipped through the crack in the door before Violet could fully open it. She raced across the darkened apartment towards the front door to jump up to snatch her lead from the hook beside it. She carried it back to Violet, dropped it at her feet and sat heavily in front of her, tail beating loudly against the floor. Violet chuckled and shook her head at the dog as she combed her fingers through the knots in her hair left there by her pillow.

“Be patient. We’ll go in a second,” she scolded the dog playfully, her words muffled by the elastic she had tucked between her teeth as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. 

She let out an annoyed huff at the wispy fringe of her bangs drooped into her eyes- the impulsive request she had made at the salon a few weeks prior in hopes to refresh her look before starting at her new position becoming a quick regret she had come to kick herself over. She groaned as she adjusted them in her reflection in the window of her apartment, desperately attempting to smooth her sleep fussed hair before giving up. Her eyes focused beyond her reflection on the sight that laid below the glass. Tchakova Park sat below her, the misty morning fog that had settled over the park laying heavy over the empty walking paths that twisted through it, dappled with the rain that had rolled in during the night. She groaned again as she watched the pond ripple with rainfall, the waters dark and murky. She could already picture Sadie’s muddy paw prints decorating her clean floors when they returned. A sense of contentment came over her as she watched the pond. The two mottled geese slid across the surface side by side, their heads tucked together like lover’s exchanging whispers. The corner of her mouth tugged up into a half grin. At least someone was enjoying the rain.

She scooped up Sadie’s lead, “C’mon, Sades.”

The street lamps were still on when they arrived at the park, casting a glow on the wet pavement. Violet had let Sadie off her lead when they arrived when she found that they were the only patrons at the early hour. Sadie ran beside her, keeping her pace as Violet jogged. As much as she despised the early hour, she enjoyed this part of her day; the feeling of her feet pounding against the concrete, her bangs plastered to her forehead with a mixture of sweat and rain, the delicious ache in her muscles, her body warm and heavy. She kept her eyes forward, focused on the array of blooms around her that glimmered with rain. 

She had only been back on Reach for a few months, but had been firmly reminded why springtime on the planet would remain to be her favorite time of the year. Hands down. Without a doubt. No exceptions. It was far more mild than what she had been accustomed to at her previous station; the base on the red dirt planet knew nothing but blistering temperatures throughout the entire year. It had lacked the same color that seemed to burst from the city; that she found in the blooms and foliage that climbed over every surface of the park. Her new coworkers would proudly announce that she would get all four seasons on Reach, quickly forgetting all the times she had mentioned growing up within the city. But, she wasn’t sure she was ready to let springtime slip away quite yet.

Her music blared into her ears as she ran and kept pace to the tempo of the loud, buoyant club playlist she had selected that morning. Sadie wandered ahead, caught on the scent of whatever critters lived in the shrubs that flanked the paths around the pond. She came to a complete stop as she sniffed persistently, her nose pressed to the pavement. Violet slowed her pace as she approached the sodden dog, her breathing heavy. She bent over and removed an earbud, hand pressed to her knees, and allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before she finished her run and returned to the apartment. From the pond, a goose honked and  Sadie’s ears shot up at the sound before she erupted into a series of barks and raced towards the pond to say hello to the animals that wanted so little to do with her. 

Violet watched Sadie run and hoped that the extra expenditure of energy would keep the pup satiated enough to refrain from destroying another pair of her shoes while she was at work. Since returning back to New Alexandria, the dog had become a menace. Violet couldn’t blame her for the bad habits. After all, the dog wasn’t used to being cooped up. She had spent the first four years of her life under the feet of Violet’s team as they worked. Adjustments would be needed by all as they adapted back to city life. 

Violet’s eyes caught on the bench beside the pond. A shadow of a figure sat cloaked in fog. A bubble of excitement swelled in her belly and Violet straightened up to get a better look at the figure on the bench, a hopeful feeling washing through her. She hadn’t seen John in the park since their brief interaction two weeks prior. She had seen him on occasion prior to nearly hitting him with Sadie’s ball; always alone. She had hoped to run into him again but he had seemingly disappeared. She had liked talking to him, despite embarrassing herself with her dumb bird fact that she couldn’t keep from popping out of her mouth. She had a tendency to speak too quickly when she was nervous, which usually led to her embarrassing herself, and their brief conversation hadn’t been so different. She had found him handsome and shy ; something she didn’t expect from the positively massive man. 

Calling Sadie back to her, she jogged towards the pond. The dog let out a final bark and the geese flapped their wings with annoyed honks at the meddlesome creature. Sadie bounded up to Violet to plop beside her and roll over onto her back in the mud. Violet sighed at the mess as she leaned down to hook her lead to her harness, wondering if she could fit a quick bath in before she set off for work. The figure rose and turned towards her, her stomach fluttering as it neared. From the fog, an old woman emerged, a disapproving scowl on her wrinkled face.

“Your dog needs to be on a leash,” the woman called to her. Violet’s heart sank, “Park rules.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Violet replied. She offered an apologetic smile, “Sorry.”

The old woman harrumphed as she passed Violet by and left her crouched in the mist. Sadie cocked her head at Violet, who shrugged in return before she straightened up. She glanced at the geese once more before she signaled Sadie with a low whistle before resuming their run, hoping that a different figure would appear on that bench during the dog’s afternoon walk.

---

“Doctor Harris to Lab 3. Doctor Harris to Lab 3.”

Violet perked up at the sound of her name over the PA system. She still hadn’t grown quite accustomed to hearing her name spoken that way. Sure, she had been a doctor of botany for a few years now, but still struggled with the formality of it. ‘Please ,’ she would joke, ‘Doctor Harris is my father.’ It didn’t seem to have the effect she had hoped for since starting as the head of the department. Always Doctor Harris, never Violet.

She gathered her pad and stepped out into the sterile white hallway that separated her office from the labs. A biologist passed and nodded politely in acknowledgement towards her, “Doctor.”

She hated being the new girl at work. She especially hated being the new boss. The previous head of the department retired earlier in the year; a stiff, no-nonsense woman with a particular need for order that was expected of a UNSC official. Violet had been promoted from an offplanet division to head up the department nearly two months ago. She had been thrilled by the opportunity to lead her own group of researchers, but the interactions with the scientists she had been placed in charge of were far too stiff, too polite and too formal in the weeks she had been there. She missed her previous station; the ease of working alongside the botanists and biologists she knew well and with the villagers nearby. 

She approached the door to the lab and placed a palm against the access scanner. The automated female voice greeted her by name as they slid open to reveal the brightly lit lab. She perched her datapad on her hip as she stepped in, tugging at the heavily starched lab coat she was required to wear. The uniform had been an adjustment as well- her old station was much more relaxed. She wore field clothes most days. 

“Whatcha got for me, Lorelai?” she called to the fellow botanist hunched over a microscope. 

The redheaded woman looked up from the slide and let out an exasperated sigh. Violet discarded her pad on the tabletop beside her, offering the woman the same grimace she wore as she sanitized her hands, “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, actually,” Lorelai let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes, “I’m finding an issue with one of the samples the field team brought back from the Karpos Mountain Range."

“Which sample?” Violet implored. She gestured for Lorelai to move so she could peer through the microscope.

“The rock dwelling algae found in the cave systems. It seems that the structure was damaged either during extraction or during transport. The sample won’t take the staining and it’s making it impossible to examine the cell structure.” she explained.

Violet lowered herself over the microscope. Adjusting the focus slightly, the sample came into focus, the patchy purple staining and crumpled cell structures confirming Lorelai’s concerns. She groaned and cursed under her breath.

“Damn it,” she groaned. She straightened up to turn towards the tech. Her heart sank, “Was that the only sample taken? Or was a large sample taken?”

“That’s it.”

She sighed heavily and muttered under her breath. The sample had been a point of excitement from the team, brought back from an unexplored cave system to be researched and tested. She had hoped that the discovery would have been a triumph for the team, especially for the rookie field team who had been sent out to explore the system. Instead, it proved to be a headache that would result in extra paperwork and required training for the team on proper collection methods. She rubbed her face and peered through the lens once more at the far from perfect sample.

“Do what you can with it,” she said, “I’m picking up on some bacteria from the areas that did take the stain. Do your best to document your findings. I’m curious about that little patch of bacteria. Try to identify it and track its growth over the next few days. Send what you are able to find over to me.”

“Yes, Doctor Harris.”

She rolled her eyes, hoping the woman couldn’t see it from where she leaned over the microscope, “Violet, please.”

“Yes, Doctor… Violet.”

It was a step in the right direction, at least. Violet straightened up, collected her pad and slid the microscope back to Lorelai. The familiar beep of the PA system sounded again. Violet’s shoulders tensed as she hoped there were no other issues with the other specimens collected by the field team.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for dismounting. Brokkr teams to your stations for dismounting.”

“And so,” Lorelai murmured lowly, “The Gods return to Olympus.” 

Violet made a face, “What do you mean by that?”

Lorelai looked up from the microscope and gave the other woman a befuddled look, “Spartans returning to base? You’ve been here for two months, haven’t you heard the calls before?”

“I have,” she stated. She watched Lorelai return to the microscope after scribbling something down on her pad, “I guess I just didn’t give it much of a thought.”

“The brass likes to make a big deal about them returning. Something about keeping up morale, I guess.”

“How long have they been offworld?”

“Two weeks,” she shrugged, as if proud she carried the crumb of information, “My boyfriend works in the Spartan Research Division.” 

Violet nodded, unsure of how to respond. “You must be very proud,” she settled with.

She had minimal experience with Spartans, having yet to encounter the teams based out of FLEETCOM. It didn’t surprise her, there was no real reason for a botanist to encounter a genetically enhanced super soldier on a regular basis. She had seen them occasionally at her previous base when teams would pass through on mission, but most of her experience with Spartans existed solely in the few glimpses she caught of footage on them in battle during vidscreen news broadcasts or during her previous teammates hours spent playing Spartan Attack in the meager rec room. She assumed Lorelai’s assessment of them wasn’t too far off; gods among men.

“It must be exciting, don’t you think?” Lorelai pondered, “All of that action?”

“More exciting than rock dwelling plants? I could hardly be- leaf it,” she joked with a smile. 

Lorelai stared blankly back at her. Violet’s smile sank as a tense silence grew between the two. Tough crowd, she thought.

“Okay… well,” she sighed, “I’m going to go examine a few propagations from the greenhouses. Shouldn’t be too long. Give me a shout if you have any other issue, and send those notes over when you have them.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Violet,” she grumbled under her breath and stepped out of the laboratory into the hall.

The greenhouses had to be her favorite part of her new position. The polycarbonate structures sat on the far side of the base, arranged in a neat row of five unassuming buildings. Each one had been carefully crafted by teams to sustain plant life from across the galaxy, each managed by a team of horticulturists with painstaking care. Working within them had been the dream of every doctoral student she had attended school with.  

She entered her favorite; Greenhouse #5. Thick rain slapped against the panes overhead as she stepped into the heavy, sticky warmth of the greenhouse. She shrugged off her lab coat and hung it on the series of hooks by the entrance, unneeding of the additional layer in the now humid climate. Greenhouse #5 was affectionately nicknamed ‘The Jungle’ by the botanists in the department, the building filled with a variety of tropical plants; some flowering, some fruit bearing. A few manufactured ponds sat throughout, shaded by twisting trees and scattered with lilies, lotus, and hyacinths. She had adored the manufactured ecosystem since she had toured it on her first day and found any reason to spend the rest of that day in there until her hair frizzed up and uniform was stained with earth. She had returned home that evening with soil under her fingernails, a full heart, and a pile of dry cleaning. 

She meandered down the stone paths. As she passed, she ran her hands along the smooth flat leaves of a banana tree. A group of low ranking horticulturists nodded to her from where they struggled repotting a rather volatile plant. The basketball sized purple blooms writhed on skinny, hairy stems, snapping at the team. Violet recognized the plant as a carnivorous specimen brought back from deep in the jungles of an alien moon, its venom proving to be a rather proficient pain management agent they were working to process for hospital use. 

“You’ll have more luck if you feed her first,” she called as she took a trimming from a species of fern that had been collected by a field team earlier in the week. She tucked it into a glass vial and secured the lid tightly before tucking it into her bag, “She’s a lot more docile when she’s full. There’s a tank of stag beetles in the workroom. Two or three should do the trick.” 

A baby-faced man nodded and ducked to avoid a swinging bloom, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Violet nodded in acknowledgement before she continued down the path to where the propagations were kept on shelves in the back of the Jungle. Several clippings, ranging from four inches to four feet, sat suspended in glass vases and vials of various sizes. Root systems floated in the water below the surface, curling and twisting as they grew and developed. She reviewed the propagations, making notes of their growth and measurements on her pad before she tucked it into her bag. 

With a contented hum, she departed the greenhouse. She took her time on the journey back to the door from the back of the Jungle, taking in the greenery around her with each step along the stone paths. She raised a hand in a silent wave to the horticulturists who had turned to hand feeding the plant live beetles with a pair of forceps. She sighed as the rain continued to slap against the roof, already dreading the cold walk back to the main building. She glanced up at the chrono and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand; her observations had taken her less time than expected. Maybe she would stop by the mess for a cup of coffee; if they could call the shitty, overly burned sludge they managed to put in a paper cup coffee, that is.

---

Violet pressed her back to the wall of the lift as she scanned over Lorelai’s findings. She flipped through the documentation and annotated images she had received, sipping from the offensively bitter coffee she had grabbed from the mess. She wrinkled her nose. Even with a generous amount of cream and sugar, she couldn’t disguise the taste. 

She balanced her pad against her forearm to zoom in on the handwritten annotation Lorelai had made beside the colony of bacteria she had seen on the slide, squinting at the younger woman’s messy script. She would have to ask her to decipher it when she got back to the labs. The lift slowed and the ding of the door indicated a stop. Violet shifted over to the side to accommodate the newcomer and braced herself for the lurch of the lift continuing its descent to her level. The lift remained stalled, the familiar swoosh of shutting doors absent. Violet glanced up, wondering if the new passenger was holding the door for someone else. She caught a glimpse of the close shaved hair and scruffy cheeks before looking back down at her pad and realization crashed through her. She looked back up to confirm if the figure that stood in the doorway was just a figment of her daydreaming, but found that he stared back at her with the same look of shock.

John from the park stood in the doorway of the lift. A soft smile spread across his face as he watched her. She returned his smile and lowered her pad.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. 

He stepped into the lift and pressed the button for a different level before settled beside her, the two still silently considering the other.

“Hi,” he murmured back.

Her eyes dropped to the tight black suit he wore in search of any designation to clue her in to his rank or role. But, her eyes only found a familiar eagle insignia emblazoned on the suit. Underneath the insignia was another patch: 117.

Recognition raced through her again. Her eyes widened as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Holy. Shit. 

He was the John.

The birdwatcher in the park was the Master Chief. She nearly hit him with a ball. She told him a weird fact about birds.

She hoped her face didn’t betray her by expressing the levels of panic she went through in a matter of mere seconds. John continued to watch her silently, that smirk she had thought of for two weeks still splitting his face. 

“Makes sense why I haven’t seen you back at the park now,” she said. She gestured to his undersuit and his lips tugged up again. The sight of it made her stomach go soft as it softened his hard features. 

“You were looking for me?” 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. God, she hoped that she hadn’t turned completely red. “Sadie was,” she said quickly, “I think you changed her life with that one throw. I’ve gotten nothing but dissatisfied looks from her since then. Like ‘really, Mom? That’s the best you’ve got?’ It’s pitiful, really.” 

He chuckled and the lift filled with the low rumble she had heard at the park weeks ago, “I’m sure you do a fine job.” 

Violet smiled and pulled her eyes from his. They stood in silence for a moment, the mechanical whirring of the lift filling the space between them. She rocked onto her heels and stole another quick glance at the much taller man. He must have sensed her looking, because he looked down to meet her stare. She dropped her eyes, embarrassment creeping across her cheeks in a warm crawl as the two shared a soft, uncomfortable chuckle before falling into silence once more. Her belly fluttered and warmth crawled up her neck once more. Fuck, she probably looked like a tomato. The thought of being bright red in front of him only made her skin feel hotter.

“Your friends came back,” she said.

“What?” 

“The geese,” she clarified. She smiled up at him, “They came back. I figured you’d like to know; in case you go back.”

Jesus, Violet, She thought, enough with the birds.

He gave her a short nod. The door dinged as they arrived at his floor. She felt a tinge of disappointment as the doors slid open. John stepped off the lift at his floor wordlessly and Violet returned her eyes to her datapad. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, his head slightly cocked as if he were straining to hear someone’s whisper. Violet watched from under her lashes as he turned back to the open doors. 

“Hey, are you-?”

“I walk Sadie around 5:30 every evening. I’ll be at the park tonight, if that’s what you wanted to ask.”

The smirk returned along with that soft flutter in her belly and John nodded. He turned again to start down the hallway.

“Hey John?” she called.

He turned again, that same smirk lifting his lips, “Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re back,” she smiled as the lift doors slid closed.

[titus-androgynous-87]

It was easier than the old man would ever admit to his shareholders (and the international investigation team) for Nedry to gain access to the entire island's security systems. Fences, cameras, patrol schedules…it was all there at her fingertips. 

She paused, hand heavy on the mouse as she hovered the cursor over one of the sub-folders, labeled "CRYO-SYS CONTROL" and weighed her options.

On the one hand, the old man hadn't batted an eye at her blue hair, five o'clock shadow, and messy makeup that spoke to countless frustrated hours in the mirror trying to relearn a face she'd grown to hate but was slowly, so fucking slowly, starting to come around on. Her paperwork hadn't been an issue (the old man had plenty of money to throw at bureaucrats to speed up the process); deadname? 

"Who is that?" the old man would say with a knowing glint in his clear blue eyes. "I don't think we have anyone employed here by that name."

Nedry spared a quick, nervous glance at her messenger bag tossed on the corner of her, admittedly, very untidy desk. An odd wave of shame washed over her as she picked up an empty chip bag and tossed it in the vague direction of her cubicle wastebasket, missing entirely and letting it gently settle on the low-pile industrial carpet as she continued to weigh her options.

The old man had been kind enough.

And it wasn't bad work.

But the pay…

While it was far and away the best money she'd ever made, having to pick up your life and move to a tiny island off the coast of Costa Rica decimated her savings and set her back to square one with everything. 

Especially…

"Fuck it," she muttered, double-tapping the mouse to open the cryo storage system control panel.

She would have been horrified at how simple it all was if she'd given herself a moment to care. But Nedry knew that if she stopped now, she was fucked. Part of her wanted to document it all to really rub salt in the wound, but Hammond didn't deserve to be tortured like that. She was doing enough damage as it was.

She turned her attention from the bank of monitors on her desk to see if anyone was paying attention to her. Of course they weren't. Why would they? She's a woman, after all, hardly worth noticing. That was the catalyst she needed.

Within 5 minutes, she was sprinting through the secured employee parking lot, keys in one hand, the other clutching a modified Barbasol stash can. Her hands shook as she tried to unlock her Jeep, dark clouds roiling overhead.

"Fuck!" she shouted as lightning struck close by, the crack and smell of ozone causing her to drop her carabiner of keys.

She quickly scooped it up and entered her car just as the heavens opened and rain came pouring down, picking the wind up with it.

The rain was blowing sideways as Nedry picked her way through the muddy jungle roads.

"Got billions for bringing back dinosaurs," Nedry muttered to herself as the windshield wipers kept furious time trying in vain to keep the glass clear enough to see the path ahead. "But you can't fucking pave the roads?"

It happened so quickly, Nedry wasn't sure how she ended up with her Jeep half hanging off the side of the road. A nearly sheer drop waiting below to swallow her, and the rain. 

With a very irritated growl, she got out and undid the safety latch of the tow winch mounted on the front of the vehicle. She was soaked to the skin in seconds as she trudged through the slick, sticky mud to anchor the winch to a thick, sturdy looking tree.

As she turned to walk back to her Jeep, a small chirp made her turn back.

A small reptile, about knee height on Nedry, was standing near the edge of the road, looking at her curiously, chirruping.

She didn't know what it was, and she didn't care. She had places to be and money to make.

She threw a stick at it, which it easily dodged, hissing in disapproval as it darted back into the soaked underbrush.

Once back in the Jeep, Nedry flipped the power switch for the winch, motor whining to life as she gently goaded the vehicle forward, foot barely on the gas. It wouldn't do to get impatient now.

But for all her careful planning, all that time spent covering her digital footprint, Nedry forgot one thing: an open Jeep door.

She felt the sharp, searing pain of teeth in her shoulder and claws scrabbling at her skin before she saw the dark shape looming in her rearview mirror. Panicked and surprised, Nedry instinctually slammed her foot on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle surging forward through the rain and mud.

The two tires she'd been guiding back onto the rapidly washing out roadway skidded off once more, causing the car to go careening over the steep side of the mountain. She let out a terrible scream as the reptile in her car attacked once more, then the winch wire pulled taught as the Jeep ran out of slack. But the weight and force of the drop made the anchor tree bend and snap.

It wasn't until a few weeks after the incident that UN soldiers and INGEN actuaries found the Barbasol stash can smashed open, vials of long-dead and rotted embryos strewn about the floor of a Jeep that was well on its way to being reclaimed by the dense jungle. 

They should remake Jurassic Park but the moment of foreshadowing in the presentation-ride is "we used AI to fill in the gaps in the DNA samples"

[wikifido]

Prologue ( 1 Month Ago)

She strides down a hallway whose stained glass windows stippled light onto the hastily hung Cabal banners adorning the walls. She glares down at the cornered mafiosos at the end of the ornate hallway; Effortlessly, she lifts her ornate elvish polearm with her slight bandage-wrapped arm and drags it back and forth between the two men. 

‘So which one of you was it?’ She asks, walking sternly towards them as they whine and fumble with the question. ‘This should be a simple question; I shouldn’t need to ask it again.’ 

She pulls the polearm back, preparing for a sweeping hafted strike. 

“Duvanith?” a quiet voice says as a repeated soft tap on her shoulder rouses her from sleep. The voice repeats, “Duvanith. We’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m up, I’m up,” Duvanith says, rolling over in her hammock and drawing her arm across her bleary eyes; her sleep was never the best when she was actively dreaming, but she had figured one night of true sleep before getting back to Neparāticue was probably worth the risk of an active dream.

She looks up at who had awakened her, a round smiling face framed by blonde hair looks down at her; Duvanith shoots up in her hammock. 

“Karoleena? Am I on the wrong ship?” Duvanith asks herself in her post-awakening confusion. Karoleenas hand grips her shoulder comfortingly 

“No, no, no. I’m on the wrong ship.” 

“What?” Duvanith asks back. How could Karoleena be on the wrong ship? She had walked her aboard a vessel bound for Askerstad and handed her a letter to give to the Queen, the letter that would have instructed the Queen to send payment to Duvanith’s mother in the amount of Ilmerryite that would have brought her father back. 

“I…” Karoleena pauses, thinking, “Didn’t want to go home just yet.”

Duvanith takes a deep breath. 

In a way, she understands that Karoleena might not have wanted to return to Castle Asker or to the Court system that had left her in such a reprehensible position with the Ashsnap House. However, if she was on the correct boat and it was moored in Neparāticue that opened up a slew of other issues. 

“Karoleena.” Duvanith implores, now rising from her hammock. “Port Currington is at war with the Empire. You being here is dangerous.” 

“It is?” Karoleena asks, a concerned look coming over her face. 

Duvanith internally stomps down her frustration; Karoleena likely hadn’t exactly been provided a what’s what of current events while the Ashsnap’s were keeping her political prisoner, or even if she had the Imperial Press was notorious for their sunny disposition on otherwise grim news. She sighs. 

“Yes, Karoleena, the Imperial Provincial government was run out of Port Currington over a year ago by Queen Mwaxanare and her army. The Imperial military still has a presence here, and the two militaries skirmish in the jungle with a frightening frequency.” 

Karoleena processes this information quietly and then asks the question Duvanith assumed she was going to. 

“Then why the Hells are we here?!” 

Duvanith drops her head and places her hand on her hips; Karoleena’s lack of knowledge of the situation doesn’t fix the overarching problem with her presence here. The Imperial Military was at war with Neparāticue the presence of an imperial royal family member in the Port could very well mean the Imperial Crown would escalate the conflict, something the Port didn’t need. 

“Because I live here and work for Queen Mwaxanare,” Duvanith explains flatly, followed by a thorough huff. She watches Karoleena process this, breaks her disappointed pose, and roots through her bag. 

“You work for her? What are you doing combat with the Imperial Military, Duvanith? You’ll get yourself killed.” 

Duvaith pulls a tightly rolled bundle of fabric from her bag and tosses it at Karoleena. 

“Not yet, but I probably will. That's a shawl put it on.” 

Karoleena fumbles the catch slightly. 

“What, why?”

“I can’t have you seen. I don’t want to develop a fucking Arbiter problem.” 

Karoleena unfurls the garment and pulls it over her head. Duvanith continues. 

“We’re, Gods help us, going to see Mwaxanare and figure out how to get you back to Askerstad.”

“I’d rather-” Karoleena begins. Duvanith cuts her off, frustration finally boiling over. 

“I don’t care, Karoleena. You just can’t be here.” 

Karoleena puts on a slightly upset expression underneath the hood of her shawl and remains quiet. 

Duvanith heaves the remainder of her adventuring pack onto her back and waves for Karoleena to follow. They worm through the ship's bowels and eventually down the gangplank to the dock, where a figure awaits them. 

“Coaxoch, thank the fucking Gods,” Duvanith says, recognizing the man as a friend and one of Mwaxanare’s top advisors. She figured he might have an inkling of what to do in the politically fraught position in which she found herself.  

“Duvanith, good to see you. The Queen has prepared one of the old Provincial Residences for your guest.”

‘Fuck,’ Duvanith thinks to herself. ‘She knew, but of course she knew; Mwaxanare probably knew before she did.’

[aprayerforclarity]

3/30

So guys, now it is finally time for me to tell you a tale about me and my friend, Terry Bradshaw. See, back in 1957, Ole Terry and I (I liked to call him Ter) used to get into a lot of trouble together. We would go around the neighborhood knocking on doors and seeing if any old grandmas would answer the door. If they did, we would pull out and gun and try to threaten their lives. Of course, the grandmas would begin screaming for their husbands or granddaughters, and me and Ter would take off, laughing so loud you could hear our echoes from down the street.

Well, one day, me and Ter got tired of the old "Knock-knock" routine and began looking for new ways to get into trouble. We would skulk through the neighborhood, throwing ideas at each other until one of them got us both excited.

"We could build a bomb and blow up my dad's house," suggested Ter.

"Eh, that seems a bit expensive" I retorted. There was a pause between the two of us. Eventually I had an idea.

"We could go eat poop out of the neighbor's toilet again."

Ter shrugged.

"But we just did that yesterday!" he whined, kicking a tin that laid on the ground by his feet. The can was rusted was brownish-orange color. When he kicked it, it exploded. Wet, rotten beans went flying in all directions. The beans smelled like slime, and on them grew little green patches of hair. Ter and I laughed at the mess it made and continued walking down the street.

As continued walking, we heard a noise coming from an alleyway cross the road. The noised sounded like a collective, faint groaning. Underlying on the groaning was low, repetitive sound of music.

We crossed the street to get a better view of whatever was going on in that alleyway. As we drew closer, the sounds became more defined, the music now recognizable. Jungle Boogie by KC Sunshine Band played as a group of seven people stood hunched over in a circle.

Ter and I realized it was probably best not to be seen by anyone. We ducked behind a dumpster a block from the congregation.

"What are they doing?" Ter asked me.

I didn't respond. Instead we both stuck both of our heads out from around the corner of the dumpster to try to see what was going on.

Our eyes widened.

In the middle of the circle crouched a middle-aged man. He was on all-fours, bare hands on the soot-covered concrete and his pants pulled to his ankles. Behind him stood a man. In his hand was what looked like a spray-paint cannister, which he held high in the air. In the circle around him stood silent bystanders. Suddenly, the prone man shouted out.

"Do it!!"

The man with the cannister brought it down, and with a loud smacking noise, inserted it into the prone man's anus. The man let out a loud grunt of pain.

There was a pause after the grunt. The people around him shifted in anticipation. Then, the man let out a groan.

Whether it was a groan of pleasure or of pain, Ter and I really did not know. But the subsequent groan slowly extended from the prone man's gullet, quietly echoing through the alleyway.

The release of tension was palpable among the group. Some of the bystanders began groaning along with him. Some of them began laughing and applauding.

"All-right!" a man shouted out, clapping his hands.

****FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. I'M TIRED OF WRITING. MY HEAD FEELS LIGHT AND FULL OF FOG. I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO LAY DOWN, BUT I'M NOT GOING TO. INSTEAD I'M GONNA GO TO THE GROCERY STORE AND BUY A ROSTISSERIE CHICKEN. WITH A KNIFE AND MY BARE HANDS I'M GOING TO TEAR INTO THAT CHICKEN AND CARVE OFF PEICES OF MEAT. THEN, I'M GOING TO DUNK THOSE PIECES OF CHICKEN IN A RAMEKIN OF FRANK'S RED HOT BUFFALO SAUCE, AND SEE HOW BAD I FEEL!!!****

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Rainy Afternoon- Klaus Hargreeves x reader

Summary: It’s supposed to be movie night, though Klaus always seems to change that in one way or another.

Warning: fluff, smut mentions

Masterlist

Klaus gently grabbed your shoulders, his face inches from yours as he looks deeply into your eyes, “We’re watching Twilight.” He says softly in the most gentle and sweetest of voices, like he telling you he loves you for the first time or something of the sort.

You let out an amused snort, “No, we are not.” The words leaving your lips bluntly and with as much enthusiasm as a stick.

Laying sprawled out on yours and Klaus’ shared apartment bed, your eyes trailing over the chipped white ceiling as your cuddly man hugs your torso. You couldn’t feel happier or more loved right now in this very moment while a storm rages against the window.

It’s about three in the afternoon and the clouds don’t seem to want to move, nor does the sky appear to remain keen on halting its assault of never ending water droplets onto the city below. But that’s all well and fine with you and Klaus on this lazy Thursday.

So far the two of you have half successfully baked a chocolate cake and eaten mostly all of it for your breakfast/lunch like the health conscious adults you are. Then for almost two hours you both danced around the apartment like wild hoodlums, making sure to push all the furniture aside for safety and to better show off your fantastical dancing skills. After that rush of excitement and heavy physical activity, you both stuck your heads out the window to let the soft pattering of the rain cool you two off.

Once that was done, Klaus dragged your bum to the bedroom for some kisses and a needed cuddle session now resulting in the two of you laying in your casual positioning for the time being. The only sounds to be heard is the pouring of the rain outside and Klaus’ dramatic sighing he does when he wants your attention.

Though you’re trying to ignore it just to fuck with him, even so, it appears your man will not let the room stay in a peaceful quietness. With Klaus. Never.

“What if we had tails?” Randomly questions Klaus, the feel of his hard chin digging into your rips as he tries to look up at you for an answer.

Tilting your head down ever so slightly to meet his emerald gaze you smirk, “What if you shut the fuck up?”

Abruptly lifting himself off of you, you’re left slightly colder as his face feigns offense, “Rude.” He tisks in disapproval, “Y/N you kiss me with that mouth.” He giggles, moving to hover over you, both of his muscular arms to either side of your face.

Looking up into his green irises you can’t help the love struck smile that tugs at the corners of your lips, “You’re one to talk considering yesterday I was making you say a whole lot worse while we were...”

Suddenly his lips are on yours and the slight chill you might have once had is gone in an instant. He’s warm and welcoming as always, letting this moment take its sweet time as he slowly lowers himself flush against you.

Feeling the full weight of Klaus is a solid blessing, he’s warm and enough to cover your smaller frame which is always nice. Soon he’s caressing your hair as his legs fall on the mattress in between your thighs while he continues to move gently against your lips.

All to soon Klaus pulls away, resting his elbows against the bed as he stares deeply into your beaming gaze and almost swollen lips from the swiftly pleasant previous events. His hair is a usual mess, dark brown locks throwing themselves every which way. His unkempt mane is slightly longer then normal but you’re not complaining, gives you something to tug when you’re getting rawed into the mattress.

Without a second to spare he leans down to press a sweet kiss upon your lips before pulling away just as quickly, a mischievous glimmer to his eye that sends an electric bolt of excitement into your body.

Letting your finger tips lightly drag down the side of his handsome features, he closes his eyes as you smile, “I know that look. What do you have in mind we do next?”

Opening his eyes once more, he kisses your cheek, “Oh I have something very intriguing swirling through this wonderland.” He quips, ever so slightly pressing into you as he pecks the corner of your lips.

“Klaus.” You halfheartedly warn, “You’re treading on some very dangerous territory my love, are you even prepared?” You purr, sending shivers down his naked spine as you drag your nails gently down his back, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. “You are weak to my power.”

Leaning his head against yours, Klaus tugs at a small lock of your hair, “Y/N. You have no fucking idea.” He mutters lowly, oh you got him now.

“You are nothing but a simple weary traveler who’ve lost their way in the storm.” You whisper, “Wandering, lonely, desperate...”

“Y/N.” He warns, though there is no real threat that could make you fall back in fear, Klaus loves when you act like this. God you’ve got him by a string.

“A man alone is no way to live in this world. It’s a fortunate thing I have found you then, and taken you into my castle.” Your words are soft and sensual as your body begins to press up into his growing member, “Now look at us, how far things have gone from when I found you alone in the woods. Now you’re tiny and desperately in need of being touched.”

“Oh lord.” Mumbles Klaus as you tug at his tiny neon boxers, your lips dancing across his cheeks the whole time.

——

Panting from Klaus’ persistent love making capabilities that’s left you sweaty and slightly sore in more areas then your thighs. You take a deep satisfied breath, body nude and hot as you lay against the beds soft blankets, listening to the pitter patter of rain against the window.

Klaus is a sight to behold, with his hair a wild jungle and his body absolutely glistening in the neon lights of your room. He lays on his back next to you, eyes closed as his face reveals a big dumb smile blessing his handsome features for you and only you to enjoy.

His naked chest rises and falls in repetitive slow waves as he keeps a single hand protectively against your wrist that’s closest to him. You can tell he’s spent, giving all of himself to you in many positions and various places throughout the room is no easy feat. But you’re worth everything to him.

You blink up at the ceiling, immensely enjoying the feeling of being naked and completely vulnerable to the world in this very moment. Though the prying eyes of the universe isn’t a huge problem right now, you’re just grateful to have someone like Klaus who absolutely worships you.

He’s never made you feel like shit, never judged you, let you down when you needed him most, or mocked you for anything. He’s always made sure to keep you close and to never let his addictions get in the way of your love and deep friendship. Sure he’s struggled, but you’ve always been there to reach out a hand when he stumbles.

And for that he owes you everything, possibly even his life. Though he’d never want to fully admit that, he’s still a bit stubborn in those areas. But without a doubt he has always shown you how much you mean to him, and that means more to you then anything in the whole wide world.

Gently tapping your wrist, Klaus stirs from beside you, “Y/N.” He whispers, causing you to turn your attention over to him.

“Yes?” You whisper back, eyes trailing from his lips over to his emerald eyes.

He breaks out into a cute little smile when your gaze meet, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” You confirm, shifting yourself on the bed so that you’re now laying on your stomach facing Klaus, “I have a fantastic idea and it involves you going to get us something to eat.”

“Blah.” Complains Klaus with a pout, “Can’t we just order gummy worms? Oh, some of that Thai from Fifth Avenue?”

Shaking your head you chuckle, “I’m afraid not, they don’t serve gelatin sour candy or have delivery.”

“Tragic.”

“Well....we could go on a heist to the 7 eleven, you wanna join me?” You ask while gently twirling his hair with your fingers as he thinks of an excuse or hopefully a more positive answer.

“Ugh but the rain.” Whines your man as he throws his arm up to point dramatically at the window before it falls back onto the bed with a thwump sound. “Why do humans need to eat?”

Leaning your head down, you gently kiss his lips for a few moments to silence his dull excuses before pulling away once more, “Why do humans need to fuck?” You whisper to him in the darkly lit room as rain continues to softly patters against the glass.

Raising a brow, you watch as his lips shift into a grin, “Fair point my dear. Fair point.” He mumbles while reaching a hand up to press your lips against his once more. He tastes so sweet and delicious, but alas your stomach growls in defiance as it complains of your hunger.

Tugging on his hair, you lift your head up to give him a half annoyed look, “Stop kissing me. We need to eat something and the fridge is empty.”

Smiling cheekily he softly caresses your skin, “Why can’t I just eat you instead? I know how absolutely scrumptious you are.” Sweet talks Klaus in that compellingly sly voice of his that absolutely drives you wild.

Biting your bottom lip, you contemplate taking him up on that implied offer just as another pang of hunger curls in your body. “I’m thinking cheap frozen pizza. How about you hot-stuff? And anyways, what else you got going on?”

“Showing my girlfriend how much I love her on this fine day?”

“I like it, but wrong answer.” You reply with a smirk, “Now come on, let’s get some food so we can come back here and be lazy again.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, “Grrr fine. But only because I love you.”

[decomarc]

Longevity has always been a problem for female stars, who rarely last as long as their male counterparts. When a woman reached the age of forty, she was considered too old and "over the hill" to play opposite a 20-year-old-male. Male actors could romance a twenty-year-old, since grey hair and wrinkles was thought to be elegant and sophisticated. For woman it was harder to maintain and more difficult to stretch their careers. The great actresses like Crawford, Davis, Stanwyck, and Hepburn, who kept going for thirty or forty years, represent formidable forces indeed. When you think of "Glamour" you immediately see the image of Lana Turner onscreen doing what came naturally to her. In 1936 Julia Jean Turner originally from Wallace, Idaho was cutting typing class at Top's Cafe at Sunset and Highland (not, as the myth perpetuates, at Schwab's drug store) at the same time the publisher of The Hollywood Reporter, Tim Wilkerson spotted her, and that sighting led to a contract with producer-director Mervyn LeRoy. The precocious seventeen year old's five-minute part was that of a nubile, high-school murder victim in the courtroom drama They Won't Forget (1937, Warner Brothers). Her brief appearance, like that of Harlow in Hell's Angels and Monroe's in The Asphalt Jungle, had an impact far beyond its length, and made the sweater she wore a symbol of feverish sexuality, sweeping it into vogue throughout America. Columnist Walter Winchell, who coined 'oomph' to describe Ann Sheridan's asset, dubbed Lana "America's Sweater Girl Sweetheart". Suddenly every young girl wished she could look like her, and her boyfriend wished she could too. In 1938, Mervyn LeRoy decided to leave Warner Brothers and sign with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer he was accompanied by his latest discovery: Lana Turner, where she was groomed to fill in for actress Jean Harlow who's recent death shocked everyone, Turner's MGM stay would last till the mid-1950's becoming one of the studio's proudest accomplishments. Yet its success was not in making her a star -- the public had done that -- but in turning her potential into one of the most enduring, glamorous careers. Early on in her contract, the studio had considered dropping her as a risky proposal because of the frequency with which she made dubious headlines, but the pubic, having chosen her, continued to support her. Box office reports on her films continued to climb. Whatever problems the headstrong teenager might cause the publicity department, it clearly had no effect on her popularity. When filming Ziegfeld Girl MGM czar, Louis B. Mayer, gave the go-ahead for Turner's final stage in her elevation to full-fledged stardom: her hair was dyed platinum blonde, her roles were now tailored to her image, the brashness was now balanced by comeuppance. In the lavish Ziegfeld Girl (1941), it was Lana, as the happy-go-lucky but doomed showgirl, who walks away with the picture. Turner survived by accepting the dream as her reality. Lana Turner is both a typical product of the studio system and one that, against all odds, survived it and finally outlived it. There's a real sense of justice in that. Turner was smarter than everyone thought she was. In later years Turner was proud that she was able to survive the Studio Era. She never considered her MGM days bondage but that they gave her a foundation to build upon. In public when Turner was discussing her career she said, "Never look back, what's past is past, and I can't let it destroy me….I must continue working. The fact is that it's the only thing I knew." Lana Turner did look back. Turner always keep herself going always, looking ahead, watching for that "special role which could be just around the corner." She never whined to the press about how tough things were when she was young. She didn't commit suicide or end up waiting on tables, she wasn't found down-and-out at Bellevue Hospital. Unlike the high priestess Samarra she played in The Prodigal (1955, MGM), she refused to leap into the flames, Lana Turner ended up by having it all.

Lana Turner in GREEN DOLPHIN STREET, 1947. Dir. Victor Saville.

[fandom-puff]

Gorilla- Remus Lupin

Warnings: smut- rough sex. Mentions of drugs/alcohol but as like a metaphor no one takes drugs/alcohol in this. Remus getting wild in the sheets 😉😉 also remus gets called daddy so

Also I like cut out the last bit of the song bc it’s basically like a repeat of the chorus with some ✨vocals✨

Gif creds to owner

Song creds to owners

Ooh, I got a body full of liquor

With a cocaine kicker

And I'm feeling like I'm thirty feet tall

So lay it down, lay it down

He was practically feral.

This close to the full moon, you knew better than to expect your usual tender lovemaking. No... tonight, Moony would take control, possessing the gentle man before you until he was a rutting beast.

Towering over you, Remus backed you up to the back of the bedroom door, which you had only just managed to kick closed, staring down at you with such intensity, it made your knees weak. His pupils were blown, the glinting greenness of his irises now almost completely eclipsed by the black of his pupils. His hands lay against the door, either side of your head, boxing you in as you stared up at him, eyes wide; you really felt like little red riding hood cornered by the big bad wolf.

And you definitely weren’t afraid of the ‘big bad wolf’ who happened to be your boyfriend. As you so often did, you wanted the werewolf to ruin you, to make you scream until your vocal chords were raw, to fuck you until your eyes rolled back and you could barely string a coherent sentence together.

All that from being pinned to the wall and put under the scrutiny of Remus’s lust-filled eyes.

You got your legs up in the sky

With the devil in your eyes

The backs of your thighs burned with exertion as Remus held them up and apart, his face buried between your thighs as he drank from your wetness like a starving man. The little bedroom was filled with the soft whimpers you could no longer suppress and the lewd wet noises of Remus’s tongue sponging over your most sensitive parts.

Let me hear you say you want it all

Say it now, say it now

He had been down there for a while, and you had come several times from his tongue and lips against your now swollen clit, but you felt so empty. Despite your best efforts, Remus’s hands stayed holding your thighs apart, and his tongue had hardly dipped in your soaking channel.

“Remus, please!” You groaned, inwardly cringing at how needy you sounded. Yet, you could not bring yourself to care- you wanted nothing more than for him to be buried to the hilt inside of you, pounding you into the bed, finally dulling the throbbing ache of arousal that had been burning inside you for hours.

Look what you're doing, look what you've done

But in this jungle you can't run

'Cause what I got for you

I promise it's a killer,

You'll be banging on my chest

Bang bang, gorilla

Resurfacing from between your legs, Remus licked his glistening lips, staring at you as you backed up the mattress, towards the pillows. “Please...” you whined, reaching to tug him down to you, pawing at his jumper in a pathetic attempt to feel his skin against yours.

“You want this off, darling?” He murmured, voice throaty with arousal. You nodded quickly, sitting up to help him shove the jumper off, tossing it aside without a care in the world. Instantly you attacked Remus’s chest with your lips, occasionally trailing your nails down over it as he rid you of the last scraps of your clothes. “Get on your hands and knees,” he growled into your ear before biting the lobe sharply.

***

Yeah, I got a fistful of your hair

But you don't look like you're scared

You just smile and tell me, "Daddy, it's yours."

'Cause you know how I like it,

You's a dirty little lover

His name fell from your lips in a garbled chant of ecstasy as he pounded into you from behind, one hand maintaining the arch in your waist, the other wrapped tightly around your hair, holding your head up by a rough ponytail.

It was a good thing too- had it not been for his hand in your hair, you would’ve fallen face first into the sheets, which really would’ve been a shame as Remus so dearly loved to hear your cries and moans and whimpers as he shagged the living daylights out of you.

After a succession of several particularly well-aimed thrusts which had your eyes rolling back and your jaw slackening, and a rarely used word slipped out of you mouth. “D-daddy...”

If the neighbors call the cops,

Call the sheriff, call the SWAT ‒ we don't stop,

We keep rocking while they're knocking on our door

And you're screaming, "Give it to me baby,

[Explicit version:] Give it to me motherfucker!"

It was as if something in him snapped completely, and he yanked you up by the hair, still thrusting into you as his chest pressed into your back, a strong arm around your middle. “Daddy... Hmm, someone is a needy girl tonight,” he growled into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and bolts of arousal shooting to your core.

You nodded weakly, head looking back against Remus’s shoulder as you felt pleasure beginning to crest in your belly. You allowed yourself to fully let go, your suppressed moans dissolving into needy cries as you begged remus to make you come. You knew that there were silencing charms up, but couldn’t bring yourself to care if they were still working, too caught up in your ecstasy to care what Sirius may or may not be able to hear.

I bet you never ever felt so good, so good

I got your body trembling like it should, it should

You'll never be the same baby once I'm done with you

“Are you gonna come, sweetheart,” he grunted into you ear, the gentle pet name so dramatically different to the way he was wrecking you. “I can feel your tight little cunt squeezing me... fuck, good girl,”

You moaned lewdly, pressing sloppy kisses to whatever bit of skin you could reach. “Daddy...” you whimpered, reaching down to rub desperately at your clit.

“I know... good girl, touch yourself while I fill you up, Princess,” he grunted, biting your shoulder slightly. “Fuck- you won’t be able to walk in a straight line once I’m through with you,”

You merely groaned in response, the change in pitch alerting him that you were teetering on the edge of your climax. “Come,” he growled, tilting your head to kiss you intensely as your orgasm crashed over you.

If it weren’t for his arms, you’d have collapsed on the bed in a twitching, messy heap. But remus held you up, holding you close as he released inside you with a feral growl of your name.

Breathing laboured, his grey-flecked hair in his eyes, he pulled out of you, shushing you tiny whimpers, helping you onto your side as you came down from your mountainous high.

Once partially recovered and totally cleaned up, you snuggled under the covers, holding onto each other. You could hear Remus’s heart pounding and knew that there were a few more intense rounds in store for you before the full moon- not that you minded of course. The ache already blooming between your thighs was indicator enough as to how much you and Remus enjoyed your intense couplings.

Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @pinkandblueblurbs @wholebigboxofyikes @remus-lupin-simp @dailyalanrickman @cremedelabrulee @simpforsnape @imareallygrumpyme @ithinkweallsing @lizlil @whizzbeesdukes @sassicaismysupreme @acciosiriusblack @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sw33tgirl @sociallyawkward-princess @pandaxnienke @agalandhermarvelobsession @once-upon-an-imagine @lazyotakujen @lilypad-55449 @rogertaylorismycar

[clockwaysarts]

No, Crowe

Fandom: FFXV

Nyx and Crowe centric ficlet

Pairings: Gen (Stand alone but can be read as in universe for Sunshine & Madness which is nyx/noct. Piece is gen/no ref to the ship at all.)

Rating: G

“Nyx,” Crowe whined, drawing out the syllable of his name to a truly absurd length. 

Nyx resolutely flipped another page in the latest of the unofficial book club of bad romance novels. This one had a dashing Glaive on the cover; coat open, shirt torn to reveal impressive abs, and with an artful splash of blood. It was amazing in the way only true trash could be.

“Nyxy Nyx Nyx,” Crowe tried again, draping herself over the back of the couch to his left. Her curls spilled over the scuffed and worn leather of the cushion as she looked at him with her best doe eyes (slightly hindered by being upside down). 

“No.”

“Ah- you mean yes. Yes, Nyx.”

“No, Crowe.”

“Yes, Crowe,” she corrected firmly, like she was addressing the gaggle of mages that served under her command. Nyx rolled his eyes at the tone. It might work on the new maglets, impressed at Crowe’s power and skill, but it didn’t do much good on a fellow lieutenant who’d grown up with her. She huffed out a breath and let herself practically ooze down the couch till she had poured into the seat; one leg over the arm, one foot was on the ground, and her head rested on Nyx’s thigh. “Why are you fighting this- you know you’d have fun.”

“We camp all the time, Crowe,” he pointed out, and finally closed the book to pay attention to her. 

“That’s not camping, that’s bedding down hoping no one tries to kill us in the night. I want camping- like we used to do, you know, before.”

Nyx’s whole face softened at that. Gently, he pointed out: “There’s no jungles here, fledgling. It’s not going to be the same.”

“No, I know,” Crowe said, voice pitched quiet as she avoided Nyx’s too knowing gaze. “But we can still go to a forest, find a nice spot by a lake, and camp. I’ll fish with Oriens and Libs can bitch about having to light a fire while Pelna makes fun of him and you set up the tents and… and we can just… you know.”

Reaching out, Nyx carded gentle fingers through Crowe’s hair. Yeah, he knew. They could just relax and take a moment to breathe air not trapped under a glowing dome and pretend, just for a little while, that they weren’t soldiers fighting a horrible war for good reasons. 

“You’ll have to help everyone plan cover for their duties with the Glaive,” Nyx said after a long pause. Crowe stilled under his hand. “And if you’re handling fishing you’ll have to handle all the food prep too.”

Crowe scrambled up, twisting to look at Nyx with wide eyes. “Really, we can?”

“And you’ll have to clear us borrowing equipment to use or give me and Libs time to find stuff to use-”

“We can borrow tents and bedrolls for sure,” she said, lunging across the coffee table to grab at her phone. She rested her elbows on the stained wood, stretched out like a coeurl as she flicked open an app to type out notes in.

“We’ll need the fishing gear-”

“Right and a small wood ax and things for cooking… a few pans and I’ll have to put together spices- Libs!”

“What?” Libertus shouted back from where he was in the kitchen. 

“I’m going to steal spices!”

“Why are you going to steal spices?” he asked, walking out with the tray of tea.

Crowe looked up with a smile that stretched across her face. “Nyx said yes!”

Libers snorted, and shot Nyx a look from the corner of his eyes as he sat down heavily into his arm chair, cup in hand. “You’re a fucking pushover.”

Nyx shrugged and watched as Crowe lept up off her perch to bounce into Libertus’ kitchen and start rooting around in his spice cabinet. She talked to herself about the packing list the whole way. Nyx watched how she moved through the small space. The heavy weight tension she’d been carrying the last few weeks in her shoulders was gone. Hiding a smile behind the cup he grabbed, Nyx admitted, “Yeah, maybe I am.”

[peninkwrites]

Wake Up. - Ch 19 of ?

Tommy goes for a run. Punz finally breaks. Dream is having a great time. Oh, and the chickens die in the end.

CW: graphic depictions of violence, description of injuries, animal death.

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 18

Ch 20

Tommy is so fucking tired.  His legs ache and burn and he’s drenched in sweat and rain and just the thick, humid condensation that makes breathing hard, but he hasn’t heard Dream behind him for maybe ten minutes so he allows himself to stop and collapse up under the foliage and take a moment to try to catch his breath.  He quickly brushes the rain from his eyes, breathing hard.  He whines between gasps for air as he stares at his bare feet.  They’re filthy, wet earth and leaves covering them but that doesn’t hide the sting or the bits of blood smeared among the leaves.  Tommy sees an especially large splinter and considers taking it out, his hands shake too bad when he even tries to get close, and curling up that much is agonizing.  He gives up, covering his mouth to quiet his breathing, listening closely, but there’s nothing.

Tommy leans back against a tree, looking up, opening his mouth to catch some of the rainwater.  He’s still so fucking warm, which is annoying considering how cold he’d been under water.  Why can’t there just be a place with a reasonable temperature?  Still, the water helps, however hard it is to get enough to drink just by staring up.

Okay.  He almost wants to just stay here.  Maybe Dream will run past him.

“Oh, Tommy!  Where are you?  I lost you!” Somewhere, somewhere distant but too close for comfort, Dream’s elated shouting makes him flinch.  Tommy doesn’t know why Dream keeps announcing his own location.  He can’t be that confident in his abilities.  All this is is giving Tommy a warning of where he is.  Tommy stays low, pressed into the ground, the mud swelling around him, unmoving except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, listening.

Nothing.

Tommy slowly sits up, scanning the shadowy trees for that white mask.  He doesn’t stand up all the way, he keeps low to the ground, running in the opposite direction of where he had heard Dream’s shouts.

He can hide.  He can’t maintain this, running nonstop, so he continues in short bursts, taking a few minutes to put some more distance between him and Dream and then finding a place low to the ground to hide.  The mud is actually cooling him down a bit.  Holy shit had he missed mud…

Tommy had been prepared to never go outside again, and he isn’t sure if the state he is now in should call for relief, but he likes the feeling of the rain, the mud caking his skin and even soothing his scrapes.  He knows he’ll be miserable and itchy especially when it dries, but for now it’s almost soothing.

“Tommy!  Come on, am I close?  Where are you?” Dream shouts.  This is the most fucking deranged game of hide and seek, it seems.  Dream is still having a frankly terrifying amount of fun.

Tommy stops sprinting, scrambling into a narrow, muddy channel between two roots of the dense jungle trees.  Tommy has a feeling Dream is cheating.  He must be checking the compass occasionally, just enough to give him a direction.

Dickhead.

Tommy stares down at his mud drenched body and has a different, gloomier realization.  Dream doesn’t need the compass right now.  Tommy is definitely leaving footprints.

Tommy listens.

And from just behind him, he hears Dream’s voice, “Oh, Tommy! Come on where are you!”

Tommy is too terrified to realize that voice is a bit higher, a bit more warbled.  He screams, jolting to his feet, hitting his head against the branch above him on his way out.  He takes off running and out of the corner of his eye he sees Dream’s white mask turn toward him a half dozen meters away.

What the fuck–

Tommy doesn’t have time to look back, that primal drive telling him to run screams louder until Tommy is without conscious thought, only a drive to keep moving.

Tommy barely stumbles when a crossbow bolt pierces his shoulder, the force of it throws him forward, but he catches himself on a branch before he loses his footing and keeps going, the hot blood mixing with the rain and his sweat and if his footprints weren’t leaving a trail before, this definitely will.

Tommy weaves through the trees, he can’t even try to stop the blood flow with his other hand as his uninjured arm is struggling to keep himself from getting blinded by leaves.

“Oh, Tommy!” Dream’s voice echoes from somewhere to his right and Tommy has no fucking idea how he caught up so fast, so with a panicked jolt in his steps he turns left sharply, throwing himself down a steep incline, catching himself so he doesn’t break his neck, but the pain shudders up his arms and his palms are scraped bloody and raw against the damp bark of the trees, his knees ache even if their landing was softened by the mud.

Tommy isn’t sure if Dream is still following until the man helpfully tells him by sending another crossbow bolt his way, it grazes his knee as he’s trying to climb over some of the taller roots.  Tommy yelps as his bare feet slip in the mud and he faceplants, a thick root nailing him in the chest and knocking the wind out of him.  He tries to get back up and directly in front of him he hears Dream’s voice–

“Where are you?”

Tommy cowers, covering his head, but it doesn’t make fucking sense, because Dream is definitely behind him.  Tommy looks up and two little black eyes stare back at him, red feathers slicked down by rain water.

“Y-You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Tommy says hoarsely.  He struggles to his feet and just before he can bolt again, Tommy feels something nail him in the back, right on his spine, sending him to the ground.

Tommy gasps for breath, lungs almost rattled as he wheezes, struggling to look up as Dream steps around him.  Tommy isn’t focused on him, he’s focused on the stupid fucking bird that screwed him over, but it doesn’t say it again.  Parrots mimicked mobs.  They mimicked zombies and the like, a warning of danger.

Maybe the bird is smarter than you think.

“That wasn’t a bad run, Tommy!” Dream says cheerfully.  “You made it a couple hours, actually.  A lot better than I thought you’d do.”

Tommy struggles to pull himself off the ground, but before he gets the chance, Dream’s boot is back between his shoulder blades, sending him back to the mud with a wheezing gasp.  “O-Okay, you won.  You won.”  Tommy has to turn his neck painfully to keep from literally drowning in mud, but Dream does not ease up.

“Not yet, I mean.  No consequences, remember?  Even when you hunt for sport, you don’t catch and release, Tommy.”  Dream leans down closer, putting more weight on Tommy’s spine until he thinks he might black out.  “You kill what you catch and bring home the trophy!”  Dream puts his crossbow back over his shoulder.

“O-Okay,” Tommy goes limp.  It’s easier to sink into the mud than struggle against Dream crushing him.  Dream doesn’t get his axe back out, in fact, he eases up, stepping off of Tommy, circling so he stood across from where Tommy had turned to try and avoid drowning.  Tommy hopes Dream will just snap his neck, but he’s uneasy.  “W-What’re you–”

Before Tommy can finish, Dream stomps down on Tommy’s neck.  It should’ve been a clean kill, but the mud, the ground is too soft and instead of his spine snapping easily crushed between two surfaces, it just cracks, and Tommy feels like his head is going to explode, pressure building from the top of his spine, shooting up into his skull.  He has just enough awareness to be horrified by hearing his own vertebrae crunch before the pain is too blinding.  He survives for a few more seconds before whatever half-assed damage Dream had inflicted is finally enough to break something vital.

~

Punz stays in the Mainlands for a few days.

He refuses to let himself think about Tommy or Dream, and Dream doesn’t reach out.  Punz decided to go with Dream’s idea of furthering his hero image.  He stops Sapnap from getting his face blown off just in time, pretending to spot a tripwire in the light, even as he’d watched Sapnap amble carelessly toward it.  These people are so fucking stupid, why don’t they just watch where they’re going?  Regardless, Sapnap had been grateful.  Punz knows he can’t do that all the time or it will definitely get suspicious, but a few times can’t hurt.

Punz starts to get nervous.  The radio silence from Dream– it’s not like he thinks Tommy has somehow found a way to overpower him and is now waiting in the bunker to jump him the moment Punz asks to be sent back, but too much quiet is a dangerous thing.

Anything could be happening to Tommy in that time.

No.  No, that part doesn’t matter.  Dream isn’t making progress.  That’s what matters.

So eventually, four or five days of wandering around on a wild goose chase with a bunch of grieving, terrified little fools, he goes back.

You whisper to Dream: I think I have an idea.

Dream doesn’t respond immediately and Punz pretends that doesn’t make him overthink what could be keeping Dream so busy, but eventually he replies.

Dream whispers to you: oh? Do you?

You whisper to Dream: have you ever tried reviving Tommy while he’s still alive?

Dream whispers to you: you’re not making sense.

You whisper to Dream: stasis me back, then

Dream whispers to you: give me like a half hour. Im not at the base right now

Punz frowns, uneasy.  He types out Where are you then? before deleting it.

You whisper to Dream: ok

~ Tommy doesn’t know if he should hate the bouts of rain lately or not.  It’s only been a few days, but Dream had killed him, dragged him back to the base, patched him back together, and Tommy feels like he’d barely collapsed onto his bed when Dream would wake him with a killing blow and then wake him again in some patch of jungle.  He gets to go outside.  He can’t pretend that doesn’t feel like a relief, but fuck this is exhausting.

Tommy has no stamina.  He’s sickly and underfed and exhausted and Dream is fighting fit and far too excited for this game of theirs.  It’s not fucking fair.

Tommy takes a little bit of vicious pride in the fact that he’s managed to run for at least an hour each time thus far.

Which makes today’s loss all the more embarrassing.

Tommy is light on his feet, running as fast as he can manage but with a bit more caution now.  It’s better to be a bit slower than risk cutting his feet open, that slows him down far more.

The parrots are almost like ghosts.  They haunt him, even when he’s away from Dream, sometimes one of them will just copy his taunts.  It makes sense.  Dream is proudly making himself the loudest thing out here and the parrots take to it naturally.

So Tommy flinches away from a croaking imitation of “found you!” and keeps running.  He pauses for a moment.  He should keep going, Dream is still too close behind him for him to hunker down and rest, but on the side of the tree are a few pods of cocoa beans.

Tommy does something impulsive and pathetic.  He stops and breaks open the pod, eating raw cocoa beans with desperate speed.  It’s not the same, in any sense of the word, but Tommy missed the hot cocoa Ranboo would make for him and Tubbo.  He missed it a lot.  So he couldn't bring himself to pass it up, deluded as it may be.  He starts running again, but by then it’s already too late.  He’d lost whatever headstart he’d had this time around and gets tangled in one of the vines and before he can pull free, there is blinding pain in his right shoulder.

Dream didn’t use the crossbow this time.  And he didn’t just use his axe.  He fucking threw the axe at him.

Tommy hits the ground and for a few seconds he does try struggling, but he dimly glances over and sees that his arm is almost entirely unattached.  It doesn’t hurt.  He takes that as a warning and stops moving, save for a feeble cry when Dream yanks the axe back out.

“Aw, that was a close call.  Thought I was gonna take your arm off!  Whew.  Lucky shot,” Dream says brightly and Tommy can’t quite tell if he wanted Tommy to lose his arm or not.  “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll heal.  If you want, like, I’m pretty sure it fixes the fatal injuries guaranteed, and the arm is still a little attached,” Dream pokes at the bit of tissue still binding the limb to Tommy and even that doesn’t hurt, much to Tommy’s vaguely dulled worry, “so if we just hang out for a bit, you’ll probably bleed out soon and then it’ll have to heal your arm back on properly, right?”  He laughs.  “Yeah, I don’t know, guess we’ll see, right?”

Dream sits  on a felled log across from him, watching him die with mild interest.

Tommy knows he’s bleeding out, but it’s strange that it’s like he can feel his own pulse in the wound.  His vision is blurry from the rain, but he can actually see the way the blood bursts from his arm is in time to his heartbeat.  Tommy tries to move his right arm.  Nothing happens.  Which also makes sense considering he can see bone and tissue quite clearly through the blood mixing with the rain.

This might be the fastest he’s bled out since Techno’s house, and soon he returns to the dark.

His first coherent thought upon arriving in Limbo is he’d almost lost his arm over some fucking cocoa beans.  Tommy has been hunted down five times in the last five days.  The first day just once, the second the rain eased up, the third he was hunted thrice, Dream stopping him with a crossbow bolt through his leg, healing him, and telling an exhausted and miserable Tommy to start running again, that had been a bad one.  Dream had even pointed in a direction and told him “Y’know, L’Manberg is a few thousand blocks that way.”   He’d heard Dream’s fucking voice too close behind him– and he still isn’t totally sure if it actually was his voice or not– and had kept running well past what he should’ve been capable of.  He was already exhausted from the first go of things, but he kept going regardless of the damage it could cause, pushing himself so hard he made himself throw up and that had definitely not helped with the dehydration and starvation so that time Dream didn’t even have to shoot him.  He’d just collapsed.  Dream had rewarded him with a kick to his spine, telling him, “that’s another round I’ve won!  Come on.  Get up.”  Somehow he’d expected Tommy to keep running.

Tommy hadn’t moved from the ground no matter how many times Dream kicked him and eventually Dream gave up, muttering about how “fine, next time I guess I’ll just bring a gapple or something to keep you going.  Next time you don’t get away this easy.”   Which Tommy in his semi-conscious state had been more than a little baffled by.  Nothing about this was easy.

Another lull the following day Tommy spent doing two things, feeding the chickens and sleeping in an effort to recover some of his energy, even post-revival his whole body had been sore and bruised, and now there had been today’s round ending with an axe in his arm.  And Dream gives no sign of stopping.  Maybe they’ll hit a dry spell and it won’t rain for weeks.  Tommy knows that would definitely result into him actually missing being hunted for sport because at least he got to go outside.  Even now, some part of Tommy thinks it might be worth it.  Losing being outside had been one of his greater fears going back to Dream, so maybe it’s not so bad if he spends every moment on the surface running for his life.

Dream hasn’t been killing him very much, not in the way he did before, at least.  It’s like he treats killing Tommy as just a method of easier transport.  Tommy isn’t sure what to make of it, if Dream is dropping all pretenses of this being about experiments or finding immortality, but those excuses had at least made Dream’s behavior a tiny bit more predictable.

Speaking of Dream’s excuses.

Tommy hates that he almost misses Punz.

It’s not like Punz has ever fucking bothered with the I’m your friend routine that Dream used on occasion, but it was nice to have someone who perceived him, however coldly, as a human being rather than a favorite toy.

And part of him wonders if maybe Dream got tired of pretending to view Punz as a person and had just killed him too.

Tommy hopes the rest of the day he can just rest.  After he’s hunted he spends the day locked in his cell, because as Dream pointed out, getting to go get food and take care of his stupid fucking chickens was a reward on those days, one he didn’t earn.  So far Tommy has survived because of the few days Dream couldn’t take him out.  He knows if it starts raining nonstop, he’ll need to figure out a way to win.  Not just for his own sake.

“Wake up.”

Tommy wakes up on the floor of the dome.  He’s usually cleaned of mud by the time he gets down here, getting dragged through the ocean will do that, although it’s annoying when the salt dries to his skin.  Tommy is confused.  He should be left in lockup for the rest of the day, but he’s out now, and now he sees why.  Dream and Punz are both looking at him.

Tommy struggles to sit up, staring at them warily.  “...ayup?”

Neither of them acknowledge him other than the fact that he is alive now, Punz turning to Dream, extending a hand.  Dream is holding a revive book.

“I’ve got it,” Dream says coolly.

“It was my idea,” Punz snaps back.

Dream laughs, “okay, and?  So what.  I have the book, so I get to do it.”

“D-Do what?” Tommy asks.

“We’re not gonna kill you,” is Punz’s version of a reassurance.  “I want to see if we can use the revivebook to restore more than one life.”

“Well, actually, after we do this part we will have to kill him to see if it worked,” Dream points out.

“Yeah, but not yet,” Punz seems annoyed by Dream pointing that out.

Tommy is quickly trying to calculate the odds of this being horribly painful.  It is either going to be painless, or some new otherworldly sort of suffering he can’t yet comprehend.  Bit of a toss up.

“Punz, maybe you should step back?  You still have 3 lives, I don’t know if that would impact it,” Dream says.

Punz clearly wants to snap back at Dream’s stupid attempt to get him to buzz out of his own idea, but he just takes one sarcastic step back.

Dream opens the book.

Tommy hasn’t seen a revival from this side of things yet, he flinches as the book bursts into flames.  Then, nothing.

Dream stares at where the book had been, looking over at Punz, who frowns, equally at a loss.

Then Tommy looks up.

A man wearing Dream’s mask hovers above them.

“Oh shit,” Tommy says weakly.

This causes his two captors to look up.  Punz goes for his crossbow but Dream quickly stops him.

“No!  No– It’s XD!  Don’t be stupid, put it down!” Dream says quickly.

Tommy feels a deep, low hum vibrate through his chest, like when he leaned against the jukebox speakers in Limbo, and it takes him a second to realize it’s from a voice emanating from the figure above.

“What do you want?”

Dream takes a few more steps back, looking up at a figure almost a mirror to himself.  Something about XD just felt… bigger.  He didn’t actually occupy any more space than Dream, it was his presence, filling the room.  Dream thinks to reply.

“...what?”

XD comes lower to the ground, staring at the three of them.  He shows no sympathy for the boy clearly half starved and bruised on the ground, but nor does he show any interest in his summoners either.

“You use the book constantly.  What else do you want?  Make it quick.”

Tommy is impulsive, and a fucking genius.  “Get me out of here!” Tommy scrambles to his feet, “please, please j-just help me, just get me out–”

And then Tommy is gone.

Dream, Punz, and even XD are frozen for a moment, staring at the space he had once occupied, the only sound the slight splash of the water as it fills in the space he had been standing in.

“Oh fuck–” Punz bolts for the corridor.

“Bring him back!” Dream shouts at XD.

“Uh, no.  Why would I give you more than one wish?”

“Why the fuck did you do what he asked?!  I’m the one who summoned you!” Dream snaps.

XD doesn’t move, there is no body language to read, but then Dream feels like a sledge hammer rammed into his chest as he’s sent flying back into the wall, disoriented, by the time he comes to, XD is gone.

Tommy’s eyes struggle to adjust to the outside light, he’s staring at spruce trees, and beyond that, a messy wall of mismatched materials.

He’s at spawn.

Holy fuck– HE’S AT SPAWN–

“HELP!” Tommy sprints for the archway, he knows he’s got fucking seconds before they take him back, he scrambles onto the prime path.  “SOMEBODY!  PLEASE–!” Tommy almost knocks over a familiar face in a sonic onesie.

“Oh, thank fuck-” Tommy almost laughs, hysterical and desperate, grabbing onto Connor’s shoulders.  “It’s underwater, it’s deep underwater in a cave and there are glow squids and-a-and it’s near an ocean monument!  It might be near a jungle but don’t bet on that because that bit might not fucking matter, okay?!” Tommy shakes Connor’s shoulders, about to knock him over with the desperate energy inside of him, Connor looks stunned, almost uncomprehending.  Tommy feels a sob rise in his throat.  Finally he’s looking at the face of a person who wants him to be okay, “please, y-you have to help me,” his voice shakes, and Tommy can’t stop himself from throwing his arms around Connor’s shoulders, clinging to him in a desperate hug, and in the moment before Tommy jolts back, for a second it seemed like Connor was hugging back, but Tommy lets go, a jolt of terrible realization hitting him, “WAIT IT’S P–”

And then he’s gone.

And Connor is left alone on the prime path.  Connor laughs weakly, staring at the place Tommy had just been standing with bewildered helplessness.  “Ohhh, no one is going to believe me,” he says to no one.

“–PUNZ! Oh fuck,” Tommy is back in darkness.  “T-That wouldn’t happen to count as a successful escape, would it?”

Tommy’s eyes adjust to the darkness just in time to see Punz swinging at him.  Tommy is too startled to even try to flinch away as his fist slams into his left eye, sending Tommy reeling back, but then Punz has him by the collar, pale and livid with fury.

“You just said my name– You just said my fucking name!  Who did you talk to?!” Punz slams him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

“N-No, I d-didn’t get the chance, I–” Tommy wheezes, struggling to draw breath, dizzy as his head throbs from the impact as well.  “I don’t…”

“Focus up, Tommy!”  Punz slaps him across the face hard enough Tommy’s left ear rings slightly, but Punz still doesn’t let go.  “Who the fuck did you talk to?!”

“I didn’t say your name in time, okay?  I–” Tommy tries to explain with an ounce of calm, but Punz has no patience for anything but answers.

“Tell me who you fucking talked to, then!” Punz snarls.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dream enter into the stasis room, a hand to his ribs.

Dream stops, staring at Punz holding a terrified Tommy against the wall.  “Ohhh, he told someone in the Mainlands about you?” Dream tuts him, but he definitely sounds smug.  “Well, that’s it then, right?  No more civilization for you!  You should definitely make Tommy pay for that.”

“N-No, I swear!” Tommy shouts, hoarse and hysterical, his hands try to push Punz away before the man can throttle him.  “I didn’t get to say anything!”  His voice trembles and he knows he’s starting to cry, but Tommy is so fucking scared and he doesn’t know how to survive Punz’s wrath, he’s never had to before.  “I-I said we were under water– and-and I said there was an ocean monument, but I didn’t, Punz, I swear!”

Dream tilts his head, considering him carefully.  “Y’know.  I don’t believe him,” he says with far too much calm.  “Tommy is a great little liar.  I mean, that’s what got me screwed over last time!  You might want to try breaking something, that usually gets him rambling a little faster.”

Tommy stares with wide petrified eyes from Dream’s soulless mask to Punz’s expression, Punz isn’t just furious, he’s scared.  Oddly enough Tommy doesn’t feel any sympathy for the guy as he grabs him by the hair, throwing him to the ground, Tommy too stunned to even try to resist.  Tommy sees Dream leave him and he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“I didn’t, I fucking swear, I didn’t–” Tommy rambles, half incoherent, cut off by Punz’s Netherite boot crushing his hand.  Tommy screams, tears welling in his eyes as his fingers crunch and break.

“You still said my name!” Punz crouches down, grabbing Tommy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him from the ground.  ”So who did you talk to?”

Tommy cannot say Connor’s name.  If he does, Punz will kill him.  “Y-You don’t understand!  I didn’t get to say anything!  You took me back before I could, please, I–”

“If that’s the fucking case, then just tell me who you fucking talked to!” Punz pulls Tommy up to meet his fist halfway, feeling the boy’s nose burst and break under the blow, blood gushing down his face, covering Punz’s hand.  He feels it, but he’s not really aware of it.  Punz is only aware of the blood pounding in his ears and the necessity of Tommy fucking telling him before whoever it is spreads it to everyone on the goddamn server.  Punz has been irritable for days, this pushed him over the edge in more ways than one and now all he can do is break Tommy open until he gets what he wants.

“I c-can’t–” Tommy’s voice is now muddled by the blood half down his throat as well as sobs, because no matter what he says it seems like Punz isn’t slowing down, because Tommy cannot give Punz a name–

Punz throws Tommy back against the wall, Tommy hitting it hard, losing what little air he could get into his lungs as he collapses to the ground.  “I won’t stop until you fucking tell me, Tommy!”  Punz stands over him, hands pressed to the stonebrick to keep himself steady so he’s free to kick Tommy in the ribs with reckless abandon.  Tommy cannot try to crawl away, Punz has him cornered, so he tries to curl inward, instinctively going to protect his vital organs but that means his already broken fingers receive another scream inducing blow, the pain shuddering up his arm alongside definitely cracked ribs.

“Get off him,” Dream’s calm, cocky tone comes from the doorway again.

Punz is hellbent on continuing, but he spares a glance in Dream’s direction and backs away.

Tommy, one eye already starting to swell, sees why.

“You have two chances to fess up, Tommy!” Dream says cheerfully.  Underneath either arm, he has Tommy’s chickens.

“No!” Tommy screams raggedly, voice breaking as he fights to sit up, struggling to stand.  “Please!  Please, they didn’t do anything wrong– I swear I didn’t get to say it!  Please!  J-Just hurt me instead!”

Punz has stepped back.  His knuckles ache, his right one burning where the skin split against Tommy’s face.  He doesn’t step toward Tommy, he doesn’t tell Dream to stop, but he feels sick.

“No, Tommy,” Dream says scoldingly.  Both of the chickens have started squirming, unsettled by all the noise Tommy is making.  “You’re gonna be good and tell Punz what he wants to know, right?”  He says it like he’s talking to a toddler, like he doesn’t hold Tommy’s sanity under either arm, their wings pinned to their sides.

So Tommy turns to Punz, eyes wide and manic as he exhales and sprays blood from his nose, wiping it onto his already bloody arm, “please, Punz, please, you have to believe me, I talked to someone, but I fucking swear I didn’t get to say shit about you, I swear.”

Tommy is on his knees, pleading with him, and Punz just stares.  He doesn’t know what to do now.  If he should even bother believing him.

Dream sighs loudly, dropping one of the chickens.  Berta indignantly clucks and Tommy lunges toward her, Dream had raised his boot but before he can give the killing blow Tommy has the furious bird tucked against his chest, his forehead pressed to the ground as he holds her close to his chest, shielding her with his body, every vertebrae on his spine is visible, he can't keep her safe any more than he can defend himself, Berta is scratching at him in a panic but Tommy doesn’t let go, as if he could keep her safe.  She didn’t want to be touched or held, this isn’t fair to her but he cannot let her go.

“Please, please please please please–” Tommy’s voice is high and soft, a pleading whisper even as more blood drips down his arms, through his now shredded shirt as Berta does everything in her power to get free.

“Come on, Tommy.  Don’t be a baby,” Dream sighs.  “What do you think you’re gonna accomplish?  I’m literally holding another one.”  He drops Linda.

“No!” Tommy manages to keep Berta close with one arm, voice breaking as he shrieks like he’s being crushed instead, but it’s too late.  Dream brings his boot down and the chicken stops moving.  Tommy collapses forward, eyes blurred by tears even as he clings to Berta, chest heaving with sobs.  “No!  You didn’t have t-to– you didn’t have to fucking do that!” Tommy screams at him.  Dream takes one step toward him and Tommy scrambles back, his eyes terribly wide, something feral there as he clings to Berta, trying to shield her with his body once more.

“Now, Tommy, are you gonna tell Punz who you were talking to or not?” Dream has his hands on his hips like a disappointed teacher and Tommy is too hysterical to even feel annoyed by that.

“Punz, please, please please please believe me, I d-didn’t tell anyone about you, please,” Tommy’s words stumble out around his sobs and still Punz doesn’t move.

“Hold him,” Dream says and it takes Punz a second to realize he’s talking to him.  Dream grows more irritated when Punz doesn’t move.  “Do you want to know how screwed you are or not?”

Punz’s fear wakes up again and suddenly he finds himself capable of going toward Tommy, prying his vice-like grip away from where he cradles that stupid chicken to his chest.

“Ow!” Punz jumps back as Tommy manages to bite him on his forearm.  Punz finds it far too easy to slap Tommy again, disorienting him long enough that he can get ahold of his incredibly skinny wrists and pry them back.

“NO!” Tommy snarls, kicking furiously as Dream grabs the other chicken from him.  “Please, Dream!  Please I fucking swear I didn’t say anything else!” He’s voice is hoarse and cracked as he screams loud enough to break it but he’s helpless against Punz holding him back.  “I swear– Please don’t hurt her, please–  I swear it– I swear to every fucking god I didn’t say anything else–”

Dream pauses, holding Berta against his side, his other hand hovering over her neck.  “When you say every god,” Dream seems to ease up for a moment, hand pulling back, shifting his weight.  “Does that include me?”

Tommy’s breathing rattles around his cracked ribs as he stares up at that white mask, no longer struggling against Punz keeping his arms pinned back.  For a moment, Punz and Berta fade out and yet again it’s just him and Dream, it’s Dream pushing and Tommy being tasked with the right response to bear it.  Tommy’s voice does not sound unsure, even if it’s cracked and weak, as he looks up at Dream and says, “yes.”

“Huh,” Dream sounds pleased.  He breaks the chicken’s neck.

“No!” Tommy lunges forward as Punz’s grip goes slack, but it’s too late.  They’re both dead.

“Punz, I think I believe him,” Dream almost has to shout over Tommy’s sobbing.  “Grab him for me, will you?”

Punz doesn’t move, but Dream doesn’t take offense.  He picks Tommy up off the ground, Tommy snarling like an animal, kicking furiously, but his body is already so battered he’s running out of fight.  Dream drags him down the corridor.  Tommy realizes where they’re going.

“No!  Stop it!   Please, I’ll be good!  I’ll be good I’LL BE GOOD I’LL BE GOOD–” Tommy screams himself hoarse, broken down enough that he becomes a broken record, pleading to the echo of his own voice down the corridor, over and over, “I’LL BE GOOD I’LL BE GOOD I’LL BE GOOD–”

He’s only silenced when Dream throws him forward into the wall of the smaller dark cell.  Tommy jolts to his feet just time to slam into the closed off wall of obsidian.  Tommy can reach either wall with little effort, the ceiling low enough to brush against his hair, and Tommy can only think of the broken bodies of those two little animals he had tried to keep alive.  When Tommy starts screaming next, there are no words, only incoherency as he wails out his hysteria and grief into walls closing in, tugging at his own hair and throwing his already broken body against the wall until he’s finally too weak to stand.

Punz is still standing in the stasis room, staring down at the feathers and the blood on the ground.

“You’re still here?” Dream notes, poking his head back in.  “Ugh, gross,” he stares at the mess he himself had made.  “Could you take care of that for me?  And don’t forget, we need to have Tommy set up his stasis pearl again.”

“Aren’t you angry?” Punz glances at Dream, voice oddly weak, he feels disconnected from it.  “With Tommy for what he did?”

Dream shrugs.  “No offense, but him outing you doesn’t change much for me.  And we’ve punished him, so now we’re even!  I’m not gonna stay mad at the little brat now.”

Punz doesn’t respond.  Dream leaves anyway.  He stares down at his hands.  Punz is a mercenary.  He’s killed before.  He’s hurt people to send a message on occasion.  

Punz had just beat a kid senseless on the off chance he’d done something, something that Punz now realizes, if Tommy had said his name, none of this would’ve mattered.  Knowing who he told wouldn’t have mattered because whoever it was would’ve told half the server immediately.

Meaning, what Punz had just done had not been an interrogation nor a necessity, but a punishment.  Punz isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but for a moment he thinks through the dense rock, the distant layer of obsidian, he can faintly hear Tommy’s screams.

[flightlessangelwings]

Hot and Cold

Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), crop use, oral (f receiving), ice play, light bondage, multiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex, dom!Veracruz, aftercare, dare I say soft!Veracruz, feelings?!

Notes: This is part 1 of my thank you gift for 2,000 followers so I hope y’all enjoy this and thank you for following me!!! This sat drafted and unfinished for like 2 months cause I could for the life of me figure out how to finish it, but it’s finally done and I’m so happy with the ending! I’m sorry too I know it’s been a minute since I wrote for my asshole husband and I definitely missed him! And taglists are always open so let me know if you want to be added!

~

It was always a nice change of pace for you to join Comandante Veracruz at camp while he was stationed in the jungle. You enjoyed the escape from the everyday stress of the city and lavished the natural beauty that surrounded you. Plus, you got to stay close with Veracruz, and you definitely felt safer when he was closeby. But the only downside was how hot and humid the jungle air was.

“V, it’s so hot,” you whined as you fanned yourself. The two of you were alone in his tent after a long day of drills with his men, and even though the sun had set, the heat didn’t dissipate at all.

“I think I can do something about that, cariño,” Veracruz growled as he pushed you back towards his desk. While he captured your lips in a chaste kiss, he grabbed hold of your hip with one arm while he reached behind you with the other to push all the papers off his desk.

You moaned into his mouth as he pushed you up onto the now empty desk and held onto his shoulders as his hands dipped below your shirt. He broke away just for a moment to remove it before he kissed you again. Veracruz bucked his hips against yours and you could feel that he was half hard already, and you whined in response.

Although he promised to help with the heat predicament, you found yourself getting hotter and hotter as the comandante stripped you of the rest of your clothes and laid you onto your back on the desk. He took his shirt off in a flash and stared down at your naked body splayed out for him. Veracruz let out a low groan as his eyes devoured your body, and you knew his mouth would soon devour you just as hungrily.

With just a pointed look to command you to keep still, Veracruz broke his gaze away from you to reach into his bag on the ground. You writhed a little, but kept still; you knew better than to go against him. Not that you ever wanted to anyway.

Veracruz reemerged into your line of sight with several pieces of rope in his hand, and you immediately clenched when you saw it. He smirked when he saw how you reacted and went to work to tie your limbs down to the legs of the table. First he started with your wrists and secured them tightly above your head on either side of you. You gripped the legs of the table as he tied you to it and let out a low moan when he gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. Then, Veracruz gave your legs the same treatment and tied them at the corners of the desk to force your legs to stay open for him.

You closed your eyes for a moment to take in the calm before whatever the comandante had planned for you. Closeby, you heard him rummage through his bag again but you didn’t open your eyes until you heard your name in his voice. And what he held in his hands this time was something you did not expect.

In his hands, Veracruz held a decent size leather crop. You involuntarily licked your lips as he rolled in in his hands. But then you had a more rational thought.

“How does this help with the heat, comandante?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and a playfulness in your tone.

“Patience, cariño,” he all but purred as he stepped close to you and stooped between your spread legs.

He traced the end of the crop over your body in a feather-light touch, which made you moan and whimper in anticipation. You knew when he was light with his touches that it was meant to tease you, and Veracruz was a master at it. He ran the crop up and down your body as he traced random patterns on your skin and you arched your body as much as you could into the touch.

When he reached your chin, Veracruz used the crop to tilt you up to meet his gaze and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the fiery look in his eyes. The two of you held still for a moment before he ran the crop back down your chest and traced lazy circles around your nipples. You moaned softly at the feeling of the leather against your sensitive skin.

Veracruz quickly turned harsher with his touches and gently slapped your breast with the crop. Your mouth fell open as you gasped and you threw your head back as he increased his intensity with every slap. He watched with an intense stare as your breast bounced with every hit and your nipple stood at full attention. Between your moans and how enticing you looked, he felt his cock twitch in his pants and Veracruz soon turned his attention to your other breast and gave it the same treatment.

You squirmed and moaned at the way he lavished your breasts with the crop, and it lulled you into a false sense of security. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself fall into the sensations and how good it felt. But just as you felt yourself get comfortable in the way he touched you with the crop, Veracruz surprised you.

Without warning, the comandante whipped your pussy hard with the crop, which caused you to cry out loudly. He chuckled darkly as he rubbed the crop over your clit softly a few times before he slapped it down hard again. The action made you cry out even louder, and every time he alternated the touches, you got louder and louder.

After he slapped your clit a few times, Veracruz reached out with his hand and ran his fingers up and down your folds. You bucked your hips against his hand without thinking and you whimpered as he touched your overly sensitive cunt.

Veracruz growled as he thrust two fingers into you and swallowed hard when you cried out. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you a few times before he pulled out and slapped your clit with the crop again. The way you screamed made his cock strain in his pants.

“Look at you cariño,” he teased in a low groan, “Are you about to cum just from this?”

“V…” was all you managed as he slapped your clit three more times. After the third slap, you came with a moan of his name as your legs shook on either side of him.

Veracruz watched as you came apart just from the touch of the crop, and he was absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy fluttered with your release. He licked his lips as you took deep breaths and came down from your high. But Veracruz wasn’t going to let you rest for long and he immediately dove into your dripping cunt and licked and sucked at you.

You screamed at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your pussy and strained against the ropes that pinned you down. Veracruz wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continued his assault on your cunt with his tongue until you came again with another loud scream. Veracruz groaned into you as he sucked every last bit of orgasm as he possibly could from you before he broke away.

The sounds of heavy breaths from both of you filled the tent as you recovered from your back to back orgasms. Veracruz watched as your chest rose and fell and sweat lined your skin. That was when he was reminded of how hot you actually were and what his plan for you was. He leaned in and sucked a mark on your inner thigh, grinning into your skin as you squirmed.

“Wait here,” he told you in a rough voice as he broke away from you.

After a few more deep breaths, you replied, “I’m not going anywhere.” Two orgasms later and you still had a quick wit about you. 

Veracruz smirked to himself in the shadows as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and reached into the small portable ice box in the corner of the tent. He felt your gaze on him but neither of you spoke a word as he reached into the box and grabbed an ice cube. You tensed in your restraints but allowed the comandante to go with whatever he had planned for you.

He settled himself at your side as he hovered the ice cube over your body. Even without the physical touch, your skin tingled in anticipation, and you knew that his actions were meant to tease. Veracruz moved the ice up and down your torso just out of reach of your skin a few times before he finally made contact with your skin.

You let out a gasp as you felt the sudden chill against your nipple and you squirmed in your binds. Chills ran across your body as Veracruz ran the ice across your breasts and circled around your nipples. And to add extra sensation, when he moved from one breast to the other, he blew gently on the first, which made you moan and sigh in response.

Between the already warm temperatures in the jungle and the way Veracruz heated your body up with the crop, the ice practically melted against our skin. It didn’t take long for the first cube to become small in the comandante’s hand, which left a puddle between your breasts where it all dripped. But that just gave Veracruz a new idea.

You said his name in a soft plea as you watched him grab two more ice cubes. This time, instead of tracing them along your skin, he dropped them on your stomach and just watched as you mewled at the feeling of the cold against your hot skin.

“Keep still, chiquitina,” he commanded with a fire in his eyes.

It was a challenge with the extreme contrast in temperatures, but you managed to keep yourself from squirming around. Veracruz licked his lips as he watched the cubes melt on your body, and before they were gone completely, he took one in his hand again. You watched with wide eyes as his hand moved down your body towards your core, and immediately you knew what he had planned.

Although you anticipated it, you still let out a loud cry at the actual feeling of the ice against your clit. You couldn’t help the way your hips bucked up in surprise, but a strong hand held you down. Veracruz rubbed the small ice cube along your folds a few times and savored every goosebump and moan that you let out.

Veracruz watched your face as he slowly pushed the ice cube inside your pussy. His cock twitched when you cried out even louder, but he kept his composure just to watch your every reaction. You arched your back and yanked against your restraints as you felt the rush of chill from within your heated body. It was agony and bliss all at once. 

“Better, cariño?” Veracruz mocked from above you as he watched you attempt to adjust to the extreme temperature of the ice.

Your eyes fluttered open and you responded only with a pout. Under his intense gaze, you felt yourself drop the act and your face relaxed into a soft grin, “Better, comandante,” you spoke in a low whisper that made his cock twitch.

He let out a low growl and he knew that your words were meant to tease him. Without another word, Veracruz lined himself up at your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. You let out a loud moan at the intrusion to your overly sensitive pussy, but you didn’t use your safeword so he kept going. What Veracruz didn’t expect, however, was the feeling of the lingering cold from the ice he pushed into you.

A chill ran up his spine as his cock hit the cold within your heat, and the sensations drove him even more wild, “Fuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth as he fully sheathed himself inside you.

“V…” you panted as you strained against your binds.

Dark, lust-blown eyes bore into you as you arched your back and savored the feeling of how well he stretched you. The comandante leaned forward and untied your wrists, since he saw how much you strained against the rope and he didn’t want any marks that weren’t purposefully left by him.

When your wrists were free, you immediately wrapped your arms around your comandante and held onto him tightly as he started to thrust in and out of you. Your moans and cries of pleasure filled the tent as Veracruz soon picked up his pace. He held your waist just as tight as you held him, and he felt your legs on either side of him, still tied to the other end of the desk.

“V… I…” you gasped when you felt his hand rub at your clit and his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, “Gonna…”

Veracruz didn’t let you know how close he was already, but he felt the same buildup within him. Even before you spoke, he felt the way you clenched around his cock and he knew neither of you would last much longer, “Cum with me,” he growled your name in your ear as he fucked you even harder.

It didn’t take more than a few more pumps into your body for both of you to cum at the same time. Your scream drowned out his low groan as he spilled himself inside you and you came around him. Both of your bodies trembled with the overwhelming feelings as he rode out your climaxes with a few more hard thrusts until he collapsed down on top of you.

You kept your arms around Veracruz as he laid his body on top of yours. The tent was filled with the sound of heavy breaths from both of you as you stayed connected together on his desk. You closed your eyes as you savored the feeling of being completely engulfed by the comandante, both inside and out, and you placed a soft kiss to the side of his head.

With a grunt, Veracruz pushed himself upright as he slowly slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips at the loss, which earned a look from him before he leaned down and untied your ankles. He held out his hand to you without a word, but he still had that familiar fierce look in his eyes. After a heavy exhale, you lifted yourself up off the desk and took his hand gladly.

Your legs were shakier than you expected, and you wobbled on your feet as you tried to hold yourself upright. But, Veracruz wouldn’t let you fall, and he quickly wrapped his arm around you before he led you over to his cot and laid you down. He gave you a quick look that told you to stay still, although you both knew you wouldn’t go anywhere even if you had the strength to walk.

Before long, Veracruz reappeared next to you with a damp cloth in his hand. You shivered and squealed slightly in surprise at the sudden cold against your hot skin. Throughout everything, you hadn’t realized how much you started to sweat, and your skin felt even hotter after being fucked so well by your comandante. You stayed silent for a minute as you watched him clean you up and attempt to cool you off, but you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“What’s so funny?” Veracruz’s gaze pointed right at you.

You covered your mouth to hide your grin, “You could have just done this, V.”

“I could,” he rolled his eyes at you, “But it wouldn’t be as much fun.”

The rare playfulness in his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to remain calm on the outside, “You’re right,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Veracruz didn’t respond as he tossed the used cloth to the other side of the tent. Without even thinking, you reached out and grabbed his arm and pulled him in to lay next to you on the cot. Veracruz was caught off guard, but he allowed it and let you guide him down next to you. Immediately, you nuzzled yourself against him and maneuvered his arm around your body. The sound of his heartbeat against your ear lulled you and you quickly felt the grip of sleep start to take you over.

As you fell asleep, you mumbled something incoherent before Veracruz understood your words, “I know you’re dangerous, but you’ve always made me feel safe, V,” your voice became more hushed and slurred as sleep started to take you, “Being in your arms is just…” you let out a heavy contented sigh, “I…”

Veracruz listened in silence as you rambled until you passed out in his arms. He kept his gaze pointed as he wondered what your thought was that you left unfinished, but he also didn’t let himself dwell on it. The comandante couldn’t deny how much he secretly craved the feeling of you in his arms at the end of the day, but that was a thought he kept locked away and to himself.

After he watched you sleep for some time, Veracruz leaned down and kissed the top of your head, “Rest, cariño.” He gave you a tight squeeze as he spoke, but they weren’t the words he meant to say. Those would remain unspoken.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2896 words

Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?

Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))

A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!

“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”

“Sure thing.”

The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.

“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”

Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.

“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”

You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.

“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.

You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.

“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.

“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.

“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”

The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks  and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.

“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”

Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”

You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.

Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.

The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”

What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?

“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”

You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.

“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”

Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.

You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.

Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.

Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.

Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.

He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.

Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.

But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.

Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.

“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”

His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your  discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

---------

Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.

“That smells good baby.”

“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”

Gray laughs, turning his head  slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.

“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”

You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.

“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”

“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.

God, he’s so hot.

You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.

And all mine.

You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.

2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.

But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.

You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.

You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into  fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.

A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.

“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.

“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.

“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”

“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.

“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.

Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.

Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.

You want it to stay this way.

But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.

You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.

Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.

-------

“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”

Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”

You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your  thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.

But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.

“Do you want kids, Gray?”

Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.

“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”

Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”

You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”

You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.

“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself  on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”

“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”

In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.

“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”

Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.

“Seriously? But-what if-”

“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”

A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”

You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”

“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.

“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.

“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.

“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”

You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”

You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.

Yeah, you have it good.