#truly one kind of a specimen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soaps-mohawk · 8 months ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 20: The New Normal

Summary: Your pack settles into a routine as you learn to adapt to the shifting relationships between all of you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count:

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threesome, BDSM elements, dry humping, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, smoking, Gaz being the prettiest boy alive.

A/N: Not much to say about this one. Hope it's worth a two week wait...

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A yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your body hitting the floor rather ungracefully. You roll from the force of the impact, stopping flat on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch the breath that was forced from your lungs from your impact with the floor.

“You left yourself too open again.”

“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You say, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit as you catch your breath.

“You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.”

You stare at Simon’s shoes as he stops a foot away from you. The laces are pulled to the exact same tension on both sides, double knotted to avoid them coming undone and becoming a tripping hazard. Even the way his crew socks are pulled up over the legs of his sweatpants speaks volumes of how on guard he is. Always ready for a fight, always ready so that nothing can get in his way and put him at risk.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”

Your gaze finally leaves his shoes, trailing up his legs to his arms where they rest on his knees. You follow the lines of his tattoos until you reach where his shirt sleeve covers the rest. You work your way up until you reach his mask-covered face, finally meeting his brown eyes. There's a softness to them now you've never noticed before, something you might not have taken notice of now had you not become brave enough to look that deep.

“Better,” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”

This morning had started with you shaking in Johnny's hold, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear. The nightmares haven't gone away since your confession, nor have they even really lessened, but at least now you aren’t suffering alone when they wake you from your sleep. At least now your pack knows how to best comfort you when your mind insists on silently torturing you.

You still haven’t slept alone since they returned, nor have you spent any great length of time in your room. There’s still a lingering feeling of someone watching, of something staring at you from inside the walls. You’ve checked while they were at training for any cameras you might have missed, but you’ve come up empty handed. Maybe it was just the knowledge that your safe space had been invaded causing that paranoid itching in the back of your mind to linger. None of the guys have complained about you staying with them at night, though perhaps you have your confession about your nightmares to thank for that.

“The nightmares?” Ghost asks, snapping you from your thoughts.

You nod. “Yeah.”

The risk of them finding out about your nightmares has made you less afraid to sleep, but still the fear of what horrible scene your mind will come up with keeps you awake. You pull your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you sit in front of him. He’s just so big, so broad and bulky, truly the ideal specimen of a perfect alpha. He’s the kind of alpha your fellow omegas at the institute would whisper about. Some big, strong protector who would provide for them and keep them safe and satisfied.

If only they could see you now.

Despite the shift in your relationship with Simon, things haven’t changed much. He’s still the quiet, looming figure behind you, posing a silent threat to anyone who might think about approaching you. He still places a hand on your back to steer you, still stands closer behind you than he used to, still looks at you with a softer look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before. Sometimes you’re tempted to push that boundary first, to lean in and rest your head on his broad chest, feel the muscle under his shirt again. You want to press up against his back while he sleeps and let his warmth seep into your bones. Sometimes when you’re alone and your thoughts begin to run rampant, you think about how you have nothing to fear because Simon would rip the face off anyone who tried anything.

Of course, he has to be here in order to do that.

You won’t have to be alone again. John had promised you that much. He’d fight harder to make sure you’re not alone again. Not, at least, for a while if it can be avoided.

“You’re thinking too much again.” Simon says, pulling you from your thoughts for a second time.

You stare at him, suddenly realizing he’s moved closer to you. You’re not sure when he did, too caught up in your own thoughts to be aware of your surroundings. It’s dangerous, your ability to sink into your mind and get lost there. You know it and they know it. Yet you can’t help it. It’s safer in your head, easier to exist in a place where you’re in control, where you can predict what’s going to happen next.

Simon’s hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer to him. You fall flat on your back on the mat, body sliding partially under his. He looms over you, settling his weight across your thighs as his hands come to rest on either side of your head. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as it usually does when you’re in this position.

“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks, the sharpness back in his gaze as he stares down at you.

Lay here and don’t move, or at least that’s what you want to do currently. He’s just so big and warm, and the way he makes you feel so small under him has your head spinning. How you wish he’d press his body into yours, let you feel him completely. The scents in the air begin to thicken as you find your head tilting back on instinct, baring your throat to him in submission.

His hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze back on his. “Focus.” He says, projecting his scent more to try and cover yours. It goes straight to your head, your gaze sharpening just slightly as you stare up at him. The scent of alpha around you has your mind racing in several different directions. You know you should be afraid, but it’s Simon. You know him, you trust him. He’d never hurt you intentionally, but he’s still an alpha.

The strong musky scent has something in the back of your head prickling, your instincts teetering on the edge of safety and danger. You know the alpha over you, but what if it was someone else? That was the point of all of this, right? You won’t be fighting off Simon or John. It will be someone unfamiliar, someone who wants to hurt you.

Simon’s fingers leave your chin, trailing down your neck. Your pulse thrums faster as his fingers near the base of your throat. The scent of alpha is strong in your nose. How easily he could slip his hand around the back of your neck and squeeze, rendering you brainless and under his control.

Your mind goes blank and you move without even thinking. Your fist slams into his side right where he’d taught you to hit. He buckles at the sudden attack and you use his moment of surprise and disorientation to free one of your legs and drive your knee right into his stomach. You push him off of you, scrambling back a couple feet before your mind begins to clear. Simon lays on the mat, almost wheezing as he tries to get the air back into his lungs.

You flounder there for a moment, watching the giant alpha you had just incapacitated. You don’t know where that came from or how you’d managed it. No, that’s not totally true. You know where the fear had come from, but you also know Simon would never do something like that to you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, shifting onto your knees in case Simon retaliates, in case he gets angry at you for attacking him. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.”

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his response. “What?”

“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He says, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.”

You continue to stare at him, not quite sure how to process the sort-of praise from him. He had asked you what you should do if you were pinned, and you had done what you were supposed to do. It hadn’t quite been for the right reasons, but you did do something correctly. You managed to incapacitate him enough to get out from underneath him, and without him going easy on you.

Maybe the training is working after all.

“Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.”

You continue to stare at him as he passes you, heading to the bench where your belongings sit. You’re still kneeling there on the mat in surprise. You hadn’t expected such genuine praise from him. But why not? He’s doing this to train you, to teach you how to defend yourself against anyone who might want to hurt you. Anyone who’s stupid enough to try something when they’re not here to defend and protect you.

Something that’s already happened.

You’ve finally managed to defend yourself, to apply the things he’s spent weeks teaching you successfully. Why shouldn’t he be proud of you for that?

You’re still getting used to this new side of him, this accepting side, the softness that he’s showing you in his own way. It’s what you wanted, what you’ve been trying to achieve for weeks now, and now that you have it...you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Where does the boundary lie? What if you push too far? Will things go back to the way they were before? Will he shut you out completely?

Hands slip under your arms, lifting you to your feet. You turn, your head tilting back to stare up at Simon. He’s wearing that emotionless mask on his face, or at least that’s what you picture as you stare up at his eyes. It’s the look he carries the most, giving away nothing and effectively hiding what he’s feeling. You wish you could see his face. You’ve tried to draw up images of what he might look like, what he hides under the mask. He can’t be ugly, at least not totally. Johnny had reassured you of that much, but you wish for just a glimpse more than his chin and his lips when he eats.

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you.

“Sorry.” You blink, trying to pull yourself from the depths of your mind once again.

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, tilting his head towards the door.

You follow him from the gym, his steps markedly slower compared to how he used to walk. Gone are the days of almost having to run to keep up with him. You could almost swear he takes smaller steps too, instead of his normal long, purposeful strides. It’s almost as if he’s out for a stroll instead of being forced into the task of escorting you to breakfast.

His hand finds your back again as you enter the mess, guiding you through the tables to the line to get food. His palm is warm where it’s pressed against the middle of your back, his fingers splayed, pressing just slightly into your skin through your shirt as an alpha soldier passes just slightly too close to you.

He still won’t fill your tray for you, but you can respect that. It’s a big step, and only done if there’s interest in courting or caretaking. You don’t expect that level of intimacy from him, certainly not right now. Perhaps never.

He’s not your alpha.

He guides you to the table where the others are sitting, and you take your normal spot between John and Kyle. They both shift just slightly closer to you almost subconsciously. Everything is almost a subconscious action now. Simon’s guiding hand on your back, your alpha moving closer to you, the betas keeping you between them whenever you’re with them. It’s a good sign, or at least you think it is. It feels right, a sort of easy flow that has developed between the five of you. One you don’t have to think very hard about.

“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks between shoveling bites of eggs into his mouth.

“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.”

All eyes at the table turn to him despite your nonchalant tone. It wasn’t the first time it’s ever happened, and you’re sure it won’t be the last.

“She took me down herself afterwards.” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his porridge.

Now all eyes at the table are on you. Your cheeks warm and you slowly start to make yourself smaller under their gazes.

“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” Simon continues, his gaze lifting so he’s staring at you too.

“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, grinning widely at you.

“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently.

“Guess so.” You shrug, still feeling a bit bashful under the attention. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.”

“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says.

You nod. Right. Run first. Like you should have opened the window and ran when that beta knocked on your door. Like you should have run when you noticed your door was open. Like you should have run when someone tried to get into your room.

How disappointed they’d be if they knew how you failed to follow even the most basic instructions. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed the cameras? Would whoever tried to get into your room that night still have tried to enter? What if the door had been unlocked? What if they had gotten in? What would you have done, then? Try to disarm them enough to run to Dr. Keller?

That is what you were supposed to do.

Instead you had been stupid and froze in your fear and let it all happen, and now you can’t even tell them. It’s too late, it’s been too long. They’d be too upset if you confessed now instead of if you’d done it right when they returned.

You have to bury it now and hope it stays that way for the rest of time.

John is the one that walks you back to the barracks after breakfast. You don’t remember the last time he walked you to a meal or back from it. Usually he was too busy doing his job, or setting up things, or whatever else it is he does. Walking you back to the barracks was far too menial a task for how busy he is.

You hold his hand as you walk, close enough that his arm brushes your side with every step. You don’t let go of his hand even when he walks you to your door, keeping your fingers laced as you turn to look up at him.

“You gonna be alright on your own?” He asks, staring down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

No. You’re almost tempted to say it, to throw your arms around him and confess, to beg him to keep you close, to stay, to take you with him. Anything so you won’t have to be alone ever again.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. “Yeah.”

For a moment, just a moment you think he doesn't believe you. There’s a second of hesitation, a cold chill running down your spine as your anxiety spikes. What if he knows you’re lying? What if he’s testing how long you’ll keep up the charade? How long you’ll try to keep them in the dark about what happened. He knows something is wrong. He can tell.

Your back meets your door as he crowds you in, releasing your hand so he can press both into the wood on either side of you. Something warm stirs in your stomach as you stare up at him, feeling very small as he looms over you.

He lets out a low rumble in his chest as he leans down. For a moment you’re expecting a kiss, but he moves to the side at the last moment, nudging your chin so it’s tilted up, bearing your throat to him. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” He murmurs against your neck, his beard prickling the sensitive skin. “Have we been neglecting you for too long?”

Saying yes wouldn’t be a lie. They haven’t really sought you out in that way since their return. The most you’ve gotten in the last almost two weeks was when Johnny slipped his hand into your sleep shorts, and you returned the favor. John and Kyle hadn’t really even tried to initiate anything, treating you more like you’d shatter into a million pieces if they touched you too much.

Maybe a good fuck would solve some of your issues.

It would at least help you forget for a while.

A quiet moan leaves your lips as John sucks on your mark, the imprint of his teeth scarred into your skin. The mark that claims you as his, bonded to him for the rest of your life.

Lust and desire burns hot in your veins and you find yourself cupping his face, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him. He lets out a growl against your lips as you kiss him like you want to devour him, your hands sliding to his shoulders to tug him closer to you. His hands drop from the door to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him, his cock hardening through his cargo pants.

You’d let him take you right here, right now, right in the hallway. You don’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone would be able to see you. It feels almost like it would cleanse the barracks, free you from the fear in your mind. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable out in the open could wipe away the worry that there’s someone around every corner, someone watching you.

Getting railed by your alpha against the very door that separated you from the room that now held your worst nightmares might just fix you.

But, just like everything else that’s happened recently, you don’t get that chance.

John’s watch begins to beep in your ear, causing him to pull away from you. You let out a quiet whine as you’re forced apart, suddenly feeling chilled from the loss of warmth against you.

John lets out a quiet sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. “I have to go.”

You wish he didn’t. You’re half tempted to beg him to stay, to fuck his job, his duties. You want him to stay, to give all his attention to you, just for a few hours. You want him to erase the fear and the anxiety and fix you.

“We’ll continue this later.” There’s a promise to his tone that he’s not done with you, a guarantee that you will get to continue this once the day is over, when he can go back to being your alpha instead of a captain. He leans in, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nod, watching him walk out of the barracks, the door closing softly behind him. You lean against your door for a few moments longer before letting out a breath. There’s still warmth swirling in your stomach, your underwear sticking to your damp folds. An idea pops into your head. You don’t want to go into your room, you don’t want to be in there alone right now.

Instead you head for Price’s room, unbuttoning your pants as you close the door behind you. You strip out of your pants before you climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable. You’re going to give him a little present, a little something in revenge for leaving you high and dry, a little something to help him look forward to tonight.

Screaming. It’s all you can hear. It makes your ears ring and your head throb. Hands cling to you, nails biting into your skin. Something’s pulling on you, trying to rip you away. You’re stuck in a brutal tug of war. It hurts, but no one can hear you over the screaming. Tears are sliding down your cheeks, blazing a trail along your skin. You shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be upset.

He hates it when you cry.

Alphas don’t cry.

You’re not an alpha.

You’ve committed the worst sin in his eyes, denying him the perfect pack. You’re a stain on his perfect ledger, a mistake that never should have happened.

He’s going to make sure you’re wiped from memory, from history, just as he wants.

“You can’t take her from me!” Your mother’s voice is frantic, her nails biting into your arm as she tries to pull you back into the safety of your arms.

“She’s no daughter of mine.” Your father’s fingers dig painfully into your other arm, trying to pull you away from your mother, away from your life. He’s going to throw you out like you’re nothing more than trash.

The screaming gets louder as you’re yanked from your mother’s hold, and you’re not sure if it’s her screams or your own piercing your ears.

“We have to ensure the success of this program.” The voice has changed. It’s not the cruel hands of your father holding you anymore. “It’s imperative to the future of militaries around the world.”

“No!” You scream, kicking, fighting, lashing out, but the hands won’t let go. They’re like a vice around you, like a constrictor slowly getting tighter and tighter.

“All you have to do is be a good omega,” A hand slips around the back of your neck, your skin burning from the touch. The warning is screaming in your head, louder than the screams of protest spilling from your lips. “And do exactly as you’re told.”

The fingers dig into your neck, your mind flashing for a second before it goes blank.

“No!”

You move before you’re even fully awake, sitting up straight in bed. Your hands close around the back of your neck as you curl into yourself, taking a defensive, protective position. You can still feel the cold hand on your skin, the fingers biting into the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re crying, tears and snot dripping down your face as you press it against your knees.

“No!” Another terrified cry leaves your lips as hands meet your skin, not cold or clammy, but warm and gentle. Your half asleep brain is stuck in your nightmare and can't rationalize the difference, not while you're perceiving everything as a threat.

“Easy, easy.” A voice says, speaking quietly, calmly. You recognize that voice. It’s not one from your dreams. Arms slowly wind around you, pulling you against a warm chest. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.”

Your breaths are rapid and shaky as you slowly begin to come back to your senses. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. You know that voice.

“Alpha?” You whimper, desperately seeking the confirmation that it’s really him, that you’re really awake and free from your nightmare.

“I’m here.” He says, clutching you tightly against his chest. “Need you to breathe for me.” He pushes your head against his chest so you can feel his breaths.

You’re still crying, your breaths catching in your chest almost painfully as you attempt to follow your alpha’s deep, steady breaths. His arms are still tight around you, pinning you against his chest. His beard tickles your forehead as he leans his chin against your head. He’s projecting his scent, the smell of earth and petrichor mixed with the musk of alpha seeping into your brain.

“Good girl.” He praises you as you begin to relax, your joins unlocking from their stiffened positions, your muscles slowly loosening from how contracted they had been in your defensive position. You could have slipped into distress easily in that position, the level of fear higher than you’ve felt in a long time.

He loosens his hold on you just slightly as you begin to unravel yourself as you calm down. Your hands are still clamped around the back of your neck, your fingers trembling from how stiffly they’re held against your most vulnerable spot.

“Keep relaxing.” He says quietly, his lips brushing your hairline. “I’ve got you.”

He continues to speak to you quietly, letting you work yourself out of your tense, defensive position. You slowly begin to slide your hands away from your neck as your mind begins to clear and you realize there’s no threat to you, nothing waiting just outside your line of vision to attack. Your alpha has you, you’re safe with him, well protected.

The tears continue to fall, however, as you think back on your nightmare. It had felt so real, maybe because in a way it had been real. You had been pulled from your mother, from your home to the institute, then from the institute to the CIA, from the CIA to here and straight into General Shepherd's lap.

“Promise me,” You gasp out, your voice hoarse from crying. “Tell me you’ll never scruff me.”

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’ll never scruff you.”

You press your face into his chest, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He could always go back on his word, he could change his mind, decide you needed to be scruffed. You know it’s foolish, having those kinds of thoughts. He’s never once gone back on his word, never once proved himself untrustworthy to you.

“I need to know if you've ever been scruffed before.” He asks, the authority slipping into his voice.

A frown pulls at your brows. You can’t remember if you’ve ever been scruffed before. Was it possible you had, but had been made to forget? Everything you’ve learned about scruffing says you would know, even if you don’t remember what happened after. It’s a very distinct feeling returning to your mind afterwards. It’s just something you’d know.

“No? I-I don’t think so?” You say. “At least I can’t remember, but I think it’s one of those things that you would know if it happened.”

“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve seen the aftermath. You would know if it had ever happened to you.”

His words bring a shred of relief to your worried mind. You don’t want to know, you don’t want to ask how he knows, why he knows. It’s not likely he would have been able to tell you anyway. Just another secret, just another thing kept in the dark. You knew from early on they’d have their secrets, things they wouldn’t ever be able to tell you. You just never expected to have one of your own.

You curl up closer against his chest, pushing the thoughts and the guilt hanging over your head away in favor of soaking up the calming presence of your alpha. For a moment, just a moment, you can imagine everything will be alright. What’s in the past will stay there and nothing will come back to haunt you. You can just move on, and pretend like nothing happened.

You know it’s not true, but for just a moment, you can pretend that it is.

He hates it.

He hates the way he feels.

The subtle change to his heart rate, the way his insides feel like they’re fluttering, twisting. The disappointment eating him when his existence is ignored entirely in favor of those who were brave enough to open up, to allow you in.

Why is he disappointed? He’s done nothing but brush you off, keep you desperately at arms length despite your attempts to wiggle in through the slowly widening cracks in his resolve. Cracks that were formed by your very insertion into their lives. They were happy, they were fine. Then you came along and fucked everything up.

The worst part?

He likes it.

He wanted to hate you. For so long he fought that desire in him to be near an omega again, to be close enough to smell your sickeningly sweet scent. He tried to hate you, tried to ignore you, push you away from the walls he’s spent decades building up. Walls that threatened to crumble thanks to your very existence.

He’s not sure when the change happened. It was gradual, a shift in his hatred that became fascination that quickly morphed into something more. Something forbidden. Maybe it was when you submitted to him during training, or maybe it was after your first time with Johnny when his beta had looked far too pleased, and shared the intimate details of what you had done to him far too easily. Johnny’s need to yap had won out and his beta’s words had caused a stirring in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time.

A stirring he’d been able to ignore for so long.

For a moment, just a moment there had been fleeting curiosity. Would you try to take control with him? What if he let you do it? How long could you keep it up before you tired out and your true nature took over?

He stuffed those thoughts into the far recesses of his mind, refusing to allow them forward. He’s not getting soft, he’s not going to allow you any closer to his already cracking walls.

He tells himself that, at least until they leave. Until he sees the effect you have on his pack. The ripples in the bonds, the changes that happen almost as soon as the ramp of the plane shuts, separating you from them for the first time since your arrival.

He’s a good soldier. He can pretend nothing’s wrong, force the feelings into the back of his mind better than anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

It had hurt when you ignored him on your return, throwing yourself into Price’s arms desperately and clinging to him like he might disappear. The betas had sandwiched you between them, letting you cling to them desperately as you trembled and cried. It was pathetic, but not quite as pathetic as the bitterness and the sting of disappointment in his chest.

He tried not to let himself feel it, tried to bury himself in his paperwork, tried to keep the feelings at bay, at least until Johnny had knocked on his door, mattress in tow telling him to get a blanket and head for Price’s room.

It was Kyle’s idea. Had to be. Kyle is the most nurturing of the four of them, and judging by the state of you, he must have done it because he thought it would help.

By the time he grew the balls to enter the makeshift nest, the betas had already sandwiched you between them, your form almost smothered completely under Johnny. Price had laid himself out on Kyle’s other side, and the space for him was made up of mostly Johnny’s mattress. It had to have been a deliberate move, meant for his own comfort. Sweet Johnny and his beta senses. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done. It had just happened naturally.

It’s at Johnny’s pestering insistence that he climbs into the nest finally, laying stiffly on the mattress behind his beta. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a nest. He doesn't sleep, not much anyway, but neither does Price. Both of them are too awake, too aware, too alert. The betas sleep peacefully and so do you, probably the most sleep you’ve gotten since your heat.

The warmth in the room gets unbearable fast, the blankets quickly kicked to the end of the mattresses, along with his own sweatshirt. It’s like a sauna, and for a moment he considers opening the window, but he’s too afraid to move, too afraid to disturb the nest.

It’s when Johnny gets up to go to the bathroom that you finally move, the first time in hours. You roll into the space he had vacated, lips slightly parted as you breathe in and out easily. Johnny, the bastard, takes your empty spot, trapping you between them. He turns his back to you in hopes you stay as still as you had before, which works for a while. At least, until he feels something press up against his back. He goes still, every muscle tensing as you bury your face between his shoulder blades. He should turn over, push you away. He should nudge you back towards Johnny, let you seek out his warmth instead. Yet, he can’t bring himself to move.

He shouldn’t like it. He can’t. He can’t allow you in, he can’t let you past his rapidly crumbling walls. Yet, he does like it. He wants to feel you pressed against him, he wants to see that hidden part of you that had brought his beta to his knees so easily.

He’s supposed to be keeping his distance, and yet, here you are, forcing your way in again. It almost feels like a silent apology for yesterday, your subconscious picking up on his disappointment, and so now it’s offering him this moment in hopes he’ll forgive you.

It’s working.

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you listen to the steady beating beneath your ear. The scent of coconut and saltwater floats in the air, taking your mind far away, back to a different time when things were simpler. Kyle’s calloused fingers trail across your arm, drawing absentminded patterns across your skin. You press your face against his warm skin, your hand splaying across his stomach. You can feel the ridges of his muscles, the way they flex with every breath.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, his lips brushing your forehead as he speaks.

“Just thinking about when we used to go to the beach when I was younger. Back when my dad was stationed in North Carolina for a few months.”

“You like the beach?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. There’s just something calming about it. I don’t mind the sand and I like the sound of the waves hitting the shore.”

“We could go to the beach.” He says, making you tilt your head up just slightly. “When the weather’s nicer, closer to summer. Take a few days off, go on a vacation.”

“You could do that?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can see him fully.

He smiles at you, his hand dropping to your back. “We do get to go on leave every so often, barring nothing urgent happens while we’re away. I’ll talk to Price about it. We can start making some plans, if you want.”

You stare down at him, the softness in his gaze, the slight upward tilt of his lips. He might as well have just promised you the world with how he’s looking at you. Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you stare at him. You don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve such kindness, such care after lying to them. You can trust Kyle. He’d be the least angry, at least towards you, if you confessed right now. It would be so easy, but you’re not sure you could stand watching the love and happiness fade from his eyes as you confessed to your stupidity, your deception.

“What is it?” He asks, his brows furrowing. Of course he’d pick up on the shift of your emotions, the sudden anxiety twisting in your stomach. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We could do something else, or nothing at all.”

“It’s not that.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just...I don’t deserve you. All of you. You’re too good to me.”

“Oh, love, that’s not true.” He says, gently cupping your cheek. “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re too good for us. The things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done. We’re not good people, and yet we were blessed with an absolute angel.”

Tears gather in your eyes for a different reason now. You certainly don’t feel like an angel. You’re too broken and you’ve lied and made stupid mistakes. “I’m hardly an angel.”

“Well, in comparison to us, you are.” He gently presses against your back, drawing you closer to his face. “Our angel, our sweet little omega.”

A shiver runs down your spine from the way your status sounds from his lips. His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against his. You can feel his breath on your lips, your tongue darting out to wet your own in anticipation.

He tastes like mint toothpaste, his tongue immediately pushing past the seam of your lips. His kiss steals your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you in place as he licks into your mouth. Your hand settles on his chest for balance, feeling his heart racing under your palm.

You shift over him, throwing a leg across his hips as you settle against his chest. His hand releases your hair, tracing a line down your spine to your hips. The shirt of his you had changed into before crawling into bed with him has ridden up, revealing the lacy panties you're sporting underneath. He groans against your lips as his fingers trace over the lace before slipping underneath, tugging them lightly.

You pull away from his lips, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need more pairs of these at this rate.”

“We’ll have to take a trip and pick up more.” He grins, snapping the waistband against your skin.

You bite your lip, pressing yourself up so you’re sitting over his hips. You can feel the growing bulge beneath his shorts as you begin to grind against him. He’s gone commando, your clit catching on his head through the thin fabric. Your hands press into his stomach, feeling the muscles contract as your scent thickens in the air. His hands close around your hips, guiding you as you grind against him. His eyes are hooded as he stares up at you, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

You stare down into those big brown eyes, getting lost in the depth of them. If you could melt yourself into him, seep under his skin and become one with him, you would. He might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. He might as well be sculpted from marble, or pulled right from a piece of artwork.

You shift so you’re leaning forward, your clit dragging against his stomach as you continue moving your hips. You grasp his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair.”

He chuckles, giving you a dazzling, perfect smile. “Thank you, love.” He wraps his arms around you, pushing himself up to sit so you drop into his lap. “But I’m nothing compared to you right now.”

He keeps you grinding against his lap, his hands squeezing your ass as you soak the front of his shorts with every drag of your hips. Your head falls back as you moan, the friction against your clit quickly pushing you towards an orgasm.

“Haven’t even touched you yet and got you all worked up. You could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” He nips playfully at your lips, sliding his hand down further to press against your lace covered pussy.

You let out a whine, releasing your hold around his shoulders long enough to tug off your shirt. He curses quietly as your skin is revealed to him, his hands trailing up your back.

“Fucking hell, love.” He groans, pushing his hips up into you.

“Kyle,” You moan his name, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Need you.”

He curses again, wrapping his arms around your waist for leverage as he flips you over onto your back. He sits up on his knees, trailing his hands down your sides until he reaches the waistband of your panties, trailing his fingers across the lace for a moment.

“You alright?” He asks, checking in with you.

You nod, lifting your feet so they press against his chest. “You gonna take them off already?”

He grins, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs before tossing them to the floor. He parts your thighs to give himself room as he pulls off his own shorts, his cock springing free from the confining fabric. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, your teeth sinking into your lip in anticipation.

“Fuck,” He breathes as he pushes your thighs further apart, dark eyes glued to your glistening folds.

He slides his hands down your thighs, his thumb ghosting over your clit. Your hips jerk in response, pushing up against his hand. He chuckles, repeating the motion, watching the way your lips part in a moan.

“Always so sensitive.” He smirks, pressing his thumb into the bundle of nerves. “Even after Price fucked you senseless a couple nights ago.”

Your face warms at his words, your stomach fluttering excitedly. Of course they had heard you. You’ve long given up on trying to hide what goes on behind their closed doors. They all know, they already knew from the first night you spent with John.

He had been rather rough that night, fucking you into the mattress so hard the headboard had scraped some of the prison grey paint off the walls. You had asked for it, though, both of you needing the raw, carnal release it had given you.

“Yeah, we all heard that.” Kyle continues, slowly circling your clit with his thumb as he speaks. “Sounded like a couple of animals in there. If you hadn’t been screaming his name over and over, we might have been worried he’d mauled you to death. Simon and I had to keep Johnny occupied so he wasn’t tempted to join you.”

Your pussy flutters at the thought of the three of them together, riled up by you and John. You can almost picture it, Johnny in Simon’s lap, bouncing on his cock while Kyle sucks him off from the front. Or did Johnny submit to both and suck Kyle’s cock while Simon took him from behind? Or was Simon more of a giver and sucked him off while Kyle fucked him? Or did Simon take both of them after making them both suck his cock?

The endless stream of thoughts has your pussy clenching, slick dribbling out of you as your legs start to shake. It’s almost too much with the pressure against your clit, your body heating from the fire ignited in your veins.

“Liked that, didn’t you?” Kyle smirks, removing his hand from your clit to lean down over you. “Maybe next time we’ll squeeze you in right in the middle. Would you like that?”

You nearly cum from his words alone, your hands grasping at his shoulders. “Fuck, Kyle! I need you inside me right now.”

“So impatient.” He tsks, leaning forward to bite at your lips. “Such a needy little omega.”

“Please!” You almost sob, lifting your hips to press against his. “I need you.”

He shushes you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before sitting back up onto his knees. He shifts slightly closer to you, propping your legs up over his thighs. His hand fists his cock, pumping the hard length a couple times before he drags the head through your folds. You whine impatiently, trying to lift your hips to grind against him but he presses a hand into your stomach, pinning you against the bed.

“Patience.” He scolds you, sending a shiver down your spine.

He drags his head through your folds a couple more times before he finally presses into you, stretching you open. You go lax on the bed, relaxing around him as he rocks his hips into you, sinking in deeper with every movement.

You reach for him as he sinks completely into you, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can. His arms slip around your back as he begins grinding against you, his thrusts shallow and soft. It’s so very different from how John had taken you just a couple days ago. Kyle has always been softer, gentler, more passionate than rough and eager.

You moan softly against his lips, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him locked against you. You want to get closer to him, but you’re not sure you can get closer than you already are. Bodies pressed together, his cock inside you, lips pressed to yours as he holds you. There’s a prickling under your skin, an urge to devour him, to keep him here forever. He snaps his hips into you harder, his lips trailing down to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes widening as a gasp leaves your lips. Your fingers dig into Kyle’s side, his head snapping to the side, sensing the disturbance in the room.

“Don’t stop on my account.” John leans against the closed door, a cigar in his hand.

You’re not sure how long he’s been there, how he got in without either of you noticing. Kyle especially, since he was usually so in tune with his surroundings. Pride flashes through you at the thought of him being so lost in you, he can’t focus on anything else. The scent of tobacco washes over you as John takes a long drag from his cigar. He must not have been there long, or maybe you’ve just been so caught up in Kyle’s scent you hadn’t noticed.

Kyle is frozen above you as John pushes off the door, approaching the bed slowly. Kyle shifts above you so he can hold John’s gaze as he stops at the edge of the bed. Excitement swirls in your stomach as you stare up at him in anticipation of what he’s going to do. His hand lifts, dragging down Kyle’s back to his ass.

John delivers a harsh slap to his cheek, Kyle’s hips snapping into yours in response as a moan leaves his lips. “Did I tell you to stop, soldier?”

“No, sir.” Kyle grunts out, starting to rock his hips into yours again.

You watch the change happen almost immediately, the natural shift between them. Kyle’s not in charge anymore, quickly handing over control to John despite the fact he’s the one inside of you. It’s a subtle submission, yet you can sense the changes in them both.

John massages Kyle’s ass for a moment before shifting so he’s closer to you. You stare up at him, lips parted as you whimper quietly. “There’s my pretty girl.” He praises you as he leans down, brushing his thumb over your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You close your lips around his thumb, sucking on it. “Such a good girl, isn’t she?”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle grunts, continuing to thrust into you harder than he had been before.

John takes another drag from his cigar as you moan around his thumb, your hands gripping the sheets as Kyle continues to thrust into you, the head of his cock dragging across that spot inside you from the angle he’s at. Moans slip from Kyle’s lips as you clench around him, his own hands digging into the sheets. Sweat has beaded across his forehead, a droplet sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. Drool slips out of your mouth around John’s thumb. You want to lick the sweat from his chest. You want to taste him.

John slips his thumb from your lips, dragging it across your chin, smearing saliva all over your skin. “Look at her.” He says, moving so he’s looking over Kyle’s shoulder. “Drooling already and you haven’t even made her cum yet, have you?” His hand slips around the back of Kyle’s neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. “You gonna make her cum like a good boy?”

Kyle lets out a moan, his pace stuttering just slightly. “Yes, sir.” He grits out, picking up the pace as he slams into that spot inside you with every movement.

John takes a step back, continuing to smoke as he watches the two of you. It’s almost too much between Kyle fucking you and John watching. There’s a coil tightening in your stomach, the pleasure intensifying more and more. A fire has started under your skin, your eyes glued to John’s as Kyle pushes you closer and closer to the peak.

You hold John’s gaze as you cum, your back arching in pleasure. Kyle doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust into you as he chases his own high.

John waits until your moans have died down before he moves, stubbing out his cigar on Kyle’s nightstand before he grasps Kyle by the hips, stopping his movements. “Switch places with our girl.” He murmurs into Kyle’s ear, Kyle taking a second to breathe before he wraps his arms around you, flipping you back around so you’re on top again as John kicks off his shoes.

Your hands press into Kyle’s stomach to hold yourself steady, your legs still shaking from your orgasm. John climbs on the bed behind you, his clothed chest pressing against your bare, sweat slicked back.

“Gonna be a good girl and make him cum?” John says quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, starting to rock your hips just slightly. John’s hands settle on your waist, helping you move as you begin to bounce on Kyle’s cock. Kyle’s eyes are wide as he watches you and his alpha, John pressing kisses across your shoulders and neck as he helps you fuck his beta. Kyle’s hands grip your thighs, fingers indenting the skin as he holds on for dear life.

“That’s it.” John praises you, shifting your body forward just slightly so Kyle’s cock drags across that spot inside you with your every movement. You clench around him, your thighs tightening around his hips.

“Fuck...” Kyle moans, his own hips bucking up into yours.

“Gonna make him cum?” John asks, his hands abandoning your hips. One snakes around your stomach to rub your clit while the other slips behind you to squeeze Kyle's balls.

Kyle lets out a loud moan, his hips snapping up against yours as your walls clamp tightly around him. You can feel the warm ropes of his release spurting inside you, increasing the pressure as you cum a second time on his cock.

John works you both through your orgasms, your entire body shaking by the time he releases you, pushing you forward against Kyle's chest. You lay there, your cheek pressed against his sweaty skin, ass in the air right in John's face. He watches as Kyle's seed begins to seep out of you, forced out by the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering Kyle's cum before pushing it back into you. You moan softly from the stretch of his fingers against your sensitive walls, pushing your hips back against his hand.

“Don't want to waste any of that.” John says, nipping at the globe of your ass cheek. “You know Kyle likes to clean you up himself.”

You let out a quiet moan, your pussy fluttering around John’s fingers. You’re about to be in for a very long night.

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly tf 141 #poly task force 141 #John price x reader #captain John price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega

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ornstein · 6 months ago

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(SPOILER WARNING) Some Messmer thoughts I've gathered as I'm still playing through SotE:

Messmer having decorated the highest area in specimen storehouse with statues of bats hanging upside down is kinda telling of his character, one one hand, like he made a home for these dark and misunderstood creatures because of his sympathy towards them. Adding to the fact Messmer probably keeps in the dark often because of his potential blindness (he is literally shrouded in shadows when you enter his chamber, and the snake is the one inspecting you upon intruding).

Treating jar mutated patients in the infirmary, revealing that he was trying to fix them or lessen their suffering, an act of compassion from a guy whose own bodily pain and suffering has become his day-to-day life.

The fact Marika's old village is hidden behind a statue of her that only opens if you perform the "O, Mother" gesture, an implication of Messmer possibly being the only one who leaves the keep to visit the village. Or perhaps he never visits it at all, as it may feel too a sacred place he would probably not dare stepping on in fear of sulling it, and if he does, be it just to feel the embers of the golden light cast by Marika's incantation shine upon him, with a sliver of hope he would be recognized with the grace he is devoid of...

He calls the Tarnished as unworthy to the throne because of their nature and kills them under Marika's order, while Messmer is yearning to return to Marika's embrace (and likely to be accepted into the Order as well) despite being himself even of worse nature than that.

Despite his tangible issues, I wonder if Messmer even managed to feel a certain level of compassion toward the people he massacred in the Shadowlands. His entire library is stacked with bodies of hornsent and information floods every corner, and I'm guessing the shadow people that you find in this place were hornsent themselves who probably had nowhere to go and were allowed to find somewhere "homely" within his library, ironically so, despite Messmer having driven them away from their own homes in the first place. And if the hornsent were truly the ones who hunted down the shamans from Marika's village, Messmer would have wanted to research them, to find answers to questions.

In short, Messmer may be fueling with resentment for Marika's neglect and self-hatred, but deep down he seems to be constantly trying to atone himself for his sins by doing acts of kindness to vulnerable beings.

Last but not least, I also think his entire character is a metaphor for the generational trauma part of repressing your true self in order to have a mentor figure love you back, and Messmer's abyssal serpent is the product of what happens when you've been bottling yourself up your whole life. The serpent gets too big until it devours you from the inside.

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring sote #sote spoilers #messmer #messmer the impaler

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inknopewetrust · 2 months ago

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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝—𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 [𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 3.5k]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

The band had long ceased playing.

As the strings of confetti laid scattered on the floor and the lingering drips of spilled champagne stained the linens, the new year had rung in with a start. London was electric; buzzing in the underground of the darkest shadows—there was nothing more thrilling.

For a deal had been struck as smiles beamed.

And Alfie Solomons had never felt so alive when the guests dispersed and he sat at a vacant table in the golden light. A cigar burning in his hand, the man leaned back on his chair in victory.

The tendrils of smoke swirled in the air; dancing around his face and into the room. It carved him as a Prometheus of men—Camden’s king that gave and protected those who needed it most.

He intrigued you, Alfie Solomons.

A ruggedly handsome man with the mouth of a foul sailor. He had eyed every person in the room before they could clock him but he was never difficult to miss, not after how much Tommy had talked him up.

It would be easy, he said, charming the socks of Alfie to warm a deal between the two sleuths.

Easy was an understated word when the night had worn thin and all you had done from your table of rich ladies and their scrawny men was stare at him. He’d caught your eye one too many times as you tried to gain his attention throughout the night—but he never made his way to you.

You knew there was no doubting he knew you worked with Tommy, that you were being used in a way to sweeten prospects with batting eyelashes and a dress that dipped a little too low in the front. Alfie had seen that before. The desperate nature of a con too important to lose.

It was why when the guests had left the building and the music had stopped he remained. You’d left to powder your nose, he’d heard your excuse to a woman at your table who happened to be the wife of an employee. He sent his snakes far too. Tommy wasn’t the only one who played for keeps.

When you re-entered the space, Alfie sat at the table with the smoke billowing around him in puffs. His cane slanted against the table while his legs spread wide, thick thighs resting themselves on the chair in welcome.

He teased absentmindedly. He was erotic when he tried not to be, more so as you looked upon him from your perch in the hall.

You thanked Tommy endlessly for sending you. This line of business wasn’t hard work when the goal was a specimen like Alfie was. You stood in the doorway with confidence faltering under the surface and leaned against the wall as seductively as you could imagine.

Yet Alfie said nothing.

He continued to smoke at his cigar with the knowledge of you standing there. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

You shifted on your feet, crossing them together and pulling your hands behind your back. It popped your hip out to the side and for a brief moment, you swore Alfie’s chest lifted in a scoff but he sat too far from you. You truly couldn’t tell.

He smoked for another eternity, a minute perhaps before inhaling dramatically and blowing it out again.

“And to what,” his messy drawl was thick, “do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss—“

“I think you know why I’m here,” you answered in kind. He shrugged his shoulder casually.

“Perhaps. But Tommy ain’t exactly a friend,” his eyes narrowed a bit. “If you know what I mean?”

“He’s not asking to be your friend, Mr. Solomons. He wanted to ensure the deal was final.”

Alfie stuck the cigar between his lips. “I see he won’t be doin’ that ‘emself now?”

“No,” you smiled abashedly. It was cute, he thought, how you played so innocently at this larger game. “He knew your interests lie elsewhere.”

The smoke blew once more. He put out the cigar on a glass tray on the table before beckoning you with two fingers.

You might as well have floated against the wooden floors of the room as you approached. Hips swaying, shoes echoing in the room. You traversed the tinsel and confetti and spilled champagne to meet his table and rest in front of him. Alfie was shameless in the way he let his eyes wander. Slow and unforgiving, he could see everything if he wanted to and this was a kind of gift from Tommy—you.

You were close to the operations of the Shelby’s. He had heard about this woman, as beautiful as you, being as ruthless in Birmingham as the brothers. He knew your name, your family, your history even if he played it off as not. A childhood friend, Alfie supposed, brought on to pull strings in ways only women knew how.

He imagined you like Polly—cunning with a tongue and if you let the slit in your dress draw apart, maybe with other bits of you as well.

“The word from Thomas?” Alfie asked gruffly. You set your small bag down on the table beside you and rested a hand on your waist.

“Three boats from Camden Yard every morning for a month,” you reminded him. The details of the deal were boring, listed off like a grocery list of things to do or get and the most relief you felt that entire evening is when you finally stopped talking.

“How does he plan to have the payment delivered?”

“Through me.”

Alfie hummed. He looked around the room, mind already aware of the deal being sealed and delivered to Tommy by one of his own men in that very moment. He’d sent one of his finest to Birmingham on the off chance the one Tommy had sent was less than capable.

Alfie could admit he was wrong in such an assumption.

“You know,” Alfie shifted in his seat to widen his legs. The expanse of his stance, the seat directed towards you had your eyes trailing his torso, falling square to his crotch and back up to him. His arms rested at his thighs. Hands flat and rough. “This is our new beginning, here in Camden.”

“Shana Tovah, Mr. Solomons.”

“Did he ask you to study? He knew it was a holiday. The Shelby’s aren’t Jews.”

“I think you underestimate our worldly knowledge, Mr.—“

“Alfie,” he corrected.

“—Alfie,” you repeated. “Birmingham isn’t a shithole all the time. We are cultured people.”

Alfie smiled slightly, turning his head away to gaze at the entry way. “Eh,” he grunted. “It’s all shit if you really think ‘bout it.”

You looked down at him as he sat and he peered back at you. His eyes shadowed by his hat in the shimmer of the light.

“Why you still ‘ere?” He tested. “I can’t imagine you sneakin’ around for some challah when the cooks have gone on home.”

You adjusted your stance on your leg causing your dress to ripple. His eyes flickered in the dark.

“Tommy send you to seduce me, treacle?”

Treacle. You’d never heard someone use that word before. You ran your tongue over your lip as it jutted out to clear the dryness that manifested.

You weren’t nervous, per se. But Alfie was a strong, loud man who was more than capable of sending a message to his friends, or enemies, without remorse.

It enticed you—He enticed you greatly. The danger, the selfless anger that rested under his thick skin.

“No,” you answered honestly. “I fear I may be doing that myself.”

“There ain’t anyone here any more.” Alfie only looked at you. His eyes underneath the shadows swallowed you whole. They drew you in and spit you back out.

“Oh?” You feigned obliviousness. You knew everyone had left as well.

Alfie rubbed his hands over his thighs in warmth. His fingers danced along the tops of them.

“Step closer,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, you stepped closer and closer until you stood between his open legs and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You could smell the cigar, his scent strong and burly.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what kind of man I am.”

“No more horrible than the rest.”

“What would Thomas say, eh?” He leaned his head backwards to look up at you. His fingertips twitched against his pants in want. “That his little friend is so willing.”

“I didn’t say I was willing.”

Alfie’s smile barely ghosted his face. Amused, he flicked down to your breasts and back up to your face.

“Your body says otherwise, love.”

He could see your nipples pert against he fabric of your dress. Your chest rose and fell erratically.

“Tommy sent me to ensure the deal was final, that is all, Alfie. I do not need to entertain you to see it through.”

“But you chose this beautiful dress,” he lifted a hand dramatically. It grazed the side of your body to feel the silken fabric that laid over the parts he wished to see further. “And these women,” he motioned to the empty room, “don’t dress like you.”

“Well they follow a different code than I.”

“And what else does that code allow?”

Alfie had yet to drop his hand. It played at the fabric that hung at your hip. He pinched it between his fingers and tugged gently.

“It depends on what the caller is asking of her,” you proposed and took his other hand into your own.

His hands were bigger than yours by a mile. Rough and calloused from his life, Alfie allowed you to overturn it and caress it in your touch. He watched your eyes, not your motions as you dragged his hand up toward your body, resting his hand not tightly gripping your dress on the space on your chest not covered by clothing.

Your skin was hot to the touch. It burned him as he felt the softness so different from his own.

“I do feel a bit cold, yeah?” He questioned and in an instant brought you down onto his lap and in a scramble of legs to straddle him.

Legs now on either side of his thick thighs, you sunk to rest your core where the zipper of his trousers began to bulge.

Alfie breathed you in deeply. His gripped turned bruising as you wrapped one arm around him and the other hand reseted on his chest.

“Why Mr. Solomons,” you snickered, “this is a bit forward.”

“Says you.” His hand slipped from you uncovered chest to one of your breasts and squeezed then soothed over the pebbling bud. “Don’t know the game your playin’, love. It’d be a dangerous one for a girl like you.”

You smiled at him. Tilting your head into his, you shuttered a breath as he slipped the dress from your shoulder and let the fabric fall to reveal you to him. You shifted your hips on top of his to feel his growing sensation.

“I know my game, Alfie,” your lips barely grazed his. He chased it, nipping your bottom lip and for a moment you thought yourself crazy for acting such a way with a man like him. “Do you know yours?”

Alfie responded by meeting his lips with yours abruptly. The hand on his chest cupped his face while his simply wandered along you. His beard was long and tickling your skin as he begged to dominate your mouth with his own. You tipped his hat off and laid it on the table before pulling away with a pop.

“My God, woman,” Alfie mumbled. You rolled your hips against his softly. He moved both of his hands to grasp the sides of you and encouraged you to grind against him. Your dress fell further down your chest and bore your luscious tits to him.

You entranced him with your movements. The roll of your body, the jiggle of your breasts as you moved. He grew hard under you and his palms wandered further to gather your dress at your waist.

“You were prepared, eh?” He commented lowly at the absence of your underwear.

“I took my chances.”

One of his thumbs met your core and found your clit quickly to rub circles at the pace of your thrusts. Your body jolted at the feeling. You were out of your mind, letting him pleasure you. Yet you didn’t say no. You couldn’t say no when you were so enraptured by his entire presence.

He was thick and heavy in his trousers which only stirred you further.

Alfie circled your clit ferociously. Meticulous and rapid, he wound up the coil within you to the point of no return. His thumb gathered the wetness greedily. You cupped his head, nearly swaying him as you lost yourself and inclined your head backward as your eyelids drooped.

“Alfie…” your voice was barely above a whisper as it hitched. He had found a good spot. One so tender and reactive. He grinned slyly.

You moved to undo the belt of his pants and slid it out from the loops the best you could. He hadn’t worn suspenders or an absurd amount of vests to add to the layers. Fingers deftly popping him open and carving the lines of his cock with your hand, you worked him out of the trousers and into your palm.

“You feel plenty warm to me,” you suggested with a purr.

Alfie sat up straighter. The advantage catching the back of your neck and drawing your lips to his again. You groaned into his mouth; savoring the feeling of your lips on his as his breath mingled with yours.

You stroked him lazily in your hand while he was more deliberate in pleasuring you.

Alfie’s mouth trailed along the sides of your neck. He left foul, bruising kissed on the column as he made his way down to your tits again and took a nipple inbetween his mouth. He pulled back, gently biting it between his teeth and letting go with a tug.

“You were right, Alfie,” you breathed in heavily. Rolling your hips against his hand, you had the sudden urge to have him inside of you. “I have heard the stories about the kind of man you are.”

“And? I don’t suppose you give a fuck about them now, love.”

“No,” you smiled shyly. “But I would be lying if I wasn’t interested in the things I’d heard.”

Your ran you thumb over the head of his cock to wipe at the cum that had leaked out of hum. Smoothing it over and down his shaft, he might as well have shivered at the sensation.

“I am more interested in the man I haven’t heard about. The one like this.”

Alfie quirked a brow and stopped his movements. He helped lift you slightly, taking control of his dick as his hand replaced yours and ran it along your slit.

“You wanna be my lover? A gy—“

You shushed him with a kiss. “I didn’t say that, Mr. Solomons. It’s not something anyone needs to know of.”

“Too dangerous, treacle.” He swiped his cock’s head along you clit and you could feel the blood rushing, the heartbeat that pulsed as hard as the one in your chest. “I’m not in the business of leading women as beautiful as you to an early grave.”

You shook your head gently. “I don’t believe you.”

Alfie hummed and with it, pushed the head of himself into your aching pussy that had been warmed by his previous ministrations and he was taken by the way your mouth fell agape. Shoulders relaxing and falling as you took him in as much as you could before pushing further; further and further until there was nothing more left to take of him and you took him fully.

“No,” Alfie said deeply. His chest rumbled with the word and echoed as far into the room as it could reach. He didn’t allow you to adjust yourself on his cock. Alfie held your hips down and made you sit there, still.

“I don’t believe myself either.”

He relished the way your cunt swallowed him. Alfie’s mind wondered if all of your holes could take him the same and in the times you’d come to Camden to collect the payments on behalf of Tommy, he’d be able to explore all the scenarios that plagued his mind as you clenched down on him and gripped him tightly. So warm and inviting, he could stay like that forever and if this was the feeling of your first meeting, he wasn’t romantic enough to consider how he’d feel after your tenth, twentieth, or more.

Alfie’s mind traveled to you kneeling under his desk and taking his cock in your mouth; feeling you spread out before him on a table in the distillery room and watching you gush around him. He could see himself under covers in the dark pleasuring you with his mouth and the taste of you on his tongue. In the tub with your back against his and the water splashing over the sides and if he was lucky, as the sun broke the horizon in Margate in his house by the sea.

As he let you sit on him and rake your fingers through his short hair, he caressed your sides and backs of your thighs as the muscles trembled.

“When you collect the money,” he whispered as much as a man like he could, “come straight to the bakery. Go to the office and if I am not there, do not let anyone in who knocks.”

“Afraid of what your men will do to me?” You questioned and his grip tightened.

“They’d be fuckin’ idiots to try.”

You learned quickly that Alfie Solomons loved to kiss you. He enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his and the selfless way you let him take control of you. He pushed the boundaries of comfort and with his cock still inside of you hard and pulsing with want, it was hard to imagine letting another man touch you in the same way.

“You come straight to me. You take the money and I’ll leave you walkin’ funny till you return to those fuckin’ Shelby’s so they know who you belong to.”

You pulled Alfie in close around his shoulders. He loosened his grasp on your hips as you lifted yourself up. His cock coated in your slick slid along your walls and before you lost him completely, you sunk down on him again and he guided you with ease every bounce you made.

You barely squeaked as his dick filled you. Thick and long, he was exactly as you’d imagined him to be based on the man you’d heard so much about. His large thighs supported your weight and he complained not about any part of you that you’d deem less than perfect.

Letting Alfie maneuver you, you leaned back onto his thighs and your hands placed themselves on his knee caps and allowed the space between you to be viewed completely by the man. He watched you sink onto him. Watching as you took him with languid rolls and calculated moves that barely drew a sweat on your brow. He held onto you tightly and helped speed up the movements as he pulled you into him once twice and then repeatedly.

The sounds of your pleasure were lewd. For anyone could waltz in and see you both openly fucking in the dining hall of the beautiful building but they wouldn’t. The sun had long set, the doors long had been locked and all that was left was you and Alfie left to settle a score.

And it was building rapidly.

Too much. It was overstimulating—the force of his actions and the long drawl of his cock against your plush walls. You were soaked. Soaking him and his trousers that were barely pushed down enough to set him free. Your body trembled as the quick revelation of your orgasm approached. Gripping his knees so tightly your nails dug into the caps, you couldn’t help the yelps turned into weak, whimpering moans that spilled from your lips.

Alfie muttered words of mere nothing at the quake of your thighs. Your stomach’s muscles tightened and with a jolt, you lurched forward and clung onto his shoulders as your release reached its peak. Your pussy clenched down on his cock with all the strength it could in the moments between your tremors. Alfie sore disorienting profanities as your orgasm threatened his own.

He wanted to pull out. He didn’t need more on his plate than what he already had and certainly not any child that bound him to the Shelby LLC for eternity. Alfie huffed, breathing through his teeth as he lifted you up slightly and barely managed to empty himself onto your stomach and bits of your dress.

You watched as his release waded down your body and his hold loosened greatly at his finish.

“So,” Alfie spoke lowly. “Do I have your word?”

“Of what?” You responded breathlessly. He grinned at your fucked out face. The way you could barely hold yourself upright even if it wasn’t the most intense fuck either of you had ever had.

“You come straight to me, got it?”

And well, Mr. Alfie Solomons didn’t have to ask twice.

Happy almost end of Kinktober! I’m trying my best to get all the fics out that I’ve promised. I’ve never written for Alfie before but I love the character so much that I’d thought I’d give it a try. As always, it is so much appreciated that you leave a like, a comment OR a reblog (I like the last two the best!) thank you for reading and free to check out any of my other works.

#alfie solomons #alfred solomons #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinder fanfic #alfie solomons smut #tom hardy #x reader #fanfic #x female reader #fanfiction #peaky blinders alfie solomons

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Hi, first i wanted to thank you for doing my first request, it's amazing 😍. Since you did it so fast i wanted to ask for something else.

Could you do something with a Prehistoric reader. She's from the Jurassic like Pickle, she was frozen and brought back to life like him. However she's less agressive and a bit smarter than him. I kinda saw her like a big ( dangerous ) mama Bear, who likes those tiny humans.

I trust you for the rest, you can choose if you want to write about first meeting with fighters (which i find funny in the anime by the way ), how she was during Pickle's fight or what's her interactions with the fighters ...

Thank you for reading this , bye.

I’m so glad you enjoyed it! The speed may vary depending on how easily I can visualize the prompt, since I need a solid movie in my head before putting it into words. Not very efficient but so far it’s been working haha. :’)

Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader

Featuring Pickle’s challengers: Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Jack Hanma and Baki Hanma.

Backstory

A million thoughts raced the scientists’ minds upon discovering not just one, but two subjects perfectly maintained within the saline block. Were you partners? Would it be possible or expected that you continue your ancient lineage? While the idea was incredibly tempting from a researcher’s perspective, it was equally dangerous. They considered separating the two of you in order to avoid the risk, but they soon discovered that your help was needed to protect everyone else from the enraged prehistoric man.

The female specimen seemed to have a much more docile and cooperative temperament, with strong maternal instincts. Could it be that she viewed the much smaller modern humans as children? (Y/N) wasn’t that dumb. She could very well tell that these new forms of her own image are matured, but she could also easily asses how fragile they are based on their extreme fear and helplessness against Pickle. They haven’t showed any intent to attack her or Pickle, so she had no reason to be hostile. Pickle was rather frustrated by her frequent scolding, but his expressions seemed to indicate that (Y/N) always had a kind heart towards weaker creatures and it wasn’t his first time having to satisfy her pity. He begrudgingly accepted it.

The Meeting

Truth be told, most of the men had gathered in order to measure up Pickle’s strength. And he was eager to prove it after his quick encounter with Yuujirou’s mysterious techniques. It was only when you stood up and let out a warning growl that they realized the faint beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. Pickle had immediately cleared the way and even the Ogre himself grounded his stance, ready for anything. What a majestic creature, they all thought. Feminine beauty carefully chiseled into a powerful physique, adorned with muscles that would put any bodybuilder today to shame. The same arms that lovingly cradle infants with motherly devotion could easily crush bones and twist frail bodies.

The smell of fear lingered for aggravatingly long moments. You gently placed your large hand on Yuujirou’s shoulder and used the other one to point behind him. Only then did they notice the bright helicopter lights and pleading voices asking them to evacuate. You were looking out for them.

Kaiou Retsu

He’d love to challenge you. Truly. But not only are you a woman, you’ve also never shown Pickle’s excitement for battle. He respects your decision and would never impose his wishes on you.

After his fight with Pickle, he wakes up intact and notices you standing over his wounded body. A miserable smile spreads over his face as the realization hits him: you just don’t want to harm them. That’s why you never fight.

He’s not sure what hurts most. The damage Pickle has done, or his ego after realizing that all you have for them is pity. He’s going to need to find other ways to impress you.

Retsu later catches you trying to reproduce some of his moves and wonders if he’d be allowed to teach you martial arts. Or would that make you too dangerous?

Katsumi Orochi

Unlike Retsu, the damage he’s done to his arm couldn’t be prevented. You allow Pickle to remove the limb given the extensive injury.

Like a father that just played too hard with his children, Pickle follows you around apologetically, as if explaining he had no fault in this.

Katsumi is a little shocked to find you in his hospital room. Embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state by someone like you, he waves his arm frantically and rattles the sheets, mumbling explanations and reassurances. You just stare in confusion. He forgot you can’t understand language.

You wonder if he can survive with one missing limb, as back in your day this handicap could’ve proven fatal in the long run. Should you provide the food for him? The hospital staff entrusts you to deliver Katsumi his meals after they noticed you hunting in the guest garden.

You insist on helping with grooming duties like hair brushing, though Katsumi had to thoroughly gesticulate he’s not as open to being naked in front of you. Please don’t assist him when he’s changing his clothes. Let him have the last remaining bit of manliness.

Jack Hanma

How stubborn! Jack is the first one to feel your mama bear anger. After the fight with Pickle he kept coming back for more, despite being barely conscious. Pickle was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting you and would throw you worried looks, unsure how to proceed. Eventually you put Jack in a headlock and dragged him back to the hospital yourself.

The next time Jack wakes up, he notices you standing in the door frame, arms folded and flexed in a threatening manner. He can’t help but chuckle at the view. To think that a woman would have such an iron grip on him. Well, you’re no ordinary woman.

As before, you’re unsure of his recovering abilities. You attempt to feed him yourself several times and Jack has to politely suggest that he’s not as frail as you might think. Though somewhere deep down he might secretly enjoy being spoiled like this. He’d never, ever admit it.

Baki Hanma

Baki took you through a rollercoaster of emotions; from being worried that such a tiny, young boy insists on challenging the prehistoric man to squealing in shock at his unexpected strength. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to defeat him if you were standing there instead of Pickle.

Unlike the others, Baki has no issue relying on you. In fact, he’s almost shameless about it. Absolutely he is too injured to walk! You can go ahead and carry him. He’ll quickly wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you, grinning.

I think he’d really love the idea that someone as strong as you is also kind and likable. He doesn’t have to worry about proving himself or that you’d look down on him. He’s really craving this newly fond protectiveness of a mother.

He likes teasing Pickle by holding onto you whenever he sees you. The Jurassic man has been on the edge ever since you’ve started becoming attached to these tiny humans. He almost can’t get a moment alone with you. Which makes him extra irritable. You sigh at the two menaces that find new ways to mess with you.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki x reader #pickle baki #kaiou retsu #jack hanma #katsumi orochi #baki hanma #baki headcanons

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hells-wasabii · 10 months ago

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hello :33

Could i request a drabble with Alastor x reader who can break deals made by demons

He meets the reader, who comes into the hotel, and they make a deal that is totally bad on their end (like to let them touch his ears once and in return they will do his bidding forever and ever).

But then after getting Alastor to do his part, they break the deal, and Alastor and everyone else is dumbfounded. (he is equally pissed and intrigued)

I looooooove your writing and congratulations on 200 followers!! :3

A/N: Hey wait I know you! You were one of my first followers! Thanks for sending this in, it’s seriously a cool concept and was pretty fun to work on! I actually hadn’t planned on it being so long, but I hope you enjoy!

Character: Alastor

Type: Fic (Alastor x reader with a deal breaking ability, Fluff, Angst)

Alastor knew when he was being watched, he could practically feel your eyes on him from across the room. His smile turned tense as he narrowed his eyes at the little display that Niffty was attempting to show him. Though, she really couldn’t be bothered whether he was paying attention or not. Alastor couldn’t help but wonder: why was it you were staring at him so intently?

You were an enigma to Alastor. You were a guest of the hotel, and yet of you he knew next to nothing other than a name and a knack for mischief. As far as he could tell, you were ordinary. A specimen that did little to pique his interest. The radio demon turned his attention from Niffty’s insect display to look at you from the corner of his eyes. He watched with unease as you smiled knowingly at him, almost as if you knew something that he didn’t and he was the last to be left in the dark.

“I want to make a deal with you.”

Now that, that got his attention. The words had left your mouth so effortlessly. It was barely a whisper and yet it was enough to make his shadow move across the room to tower over you. If you noticed, you didn’t let it show. Perhaps that should have been his first sign that something was amiss.

In moments Alastor was mere inches away, a grin that couldn’t be described as anything else but plotting splitting his lips. “And what is it that I can do for you, my dear?” Behind him, his shadow waited impatiently, hungry for a meal, a soul. And Alastor planned to feed it.

“I want to touch your ears,” You said it with such confidence, so much so that it nearly took him aback. In fact, there was hardly a pause or even a moment of consideration. It sounded more like an impulse than anything else.

Surely he was hearing things. His… Ears? What kind of preposterous request is that? And to offer your soul for such a thing? Preposterous. Surely you had lost your mind before or since your arrival. But perhaps it was an even trade-off, considering his aversion to touch. Truly, he couldn’t see himself losing to a fool’s deal like this.

It was all standard, really. The matter was settled in a shake of the hand, markings and sigils appearing in the air and lining the walls around the both of you. And of course the rest of the Hotel’s residents, guests and staff alike came along to see what the fuss and light show was about. Alastor didn’t make deals every day after all? When had been the last time he had struck a deal for a soul? He could hardly remember as your hand left his.

“Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?” As if you needed any more invitation than that. Stepping closer, you reached up. Had it not been for the fact that the radio demon had no choice but to hold up his end of the bargain, you were sure that getting this close would either reward you with a stern warning or the loss of a limb. Anyone else would have hesitated, but not you. Not when you had an ace up your sleeve the way you did.

The moment that your fingers brushed the appendages on the top of the radio demon’s head, your mouth opened into a fine ‘o’ shape. They were unbelievably soft. Usually, the pelt of a deer is coarse, the hair only smooth when you go with the grain, and prickly when against. But with Alastor, it felt more like fur than the usual coarse hair of a buck. Interesting.

The radio demon did his best to steel himself, unwilling to show any sort of reaction, especially with an audience present. His expression nearly fell as he realized that the rest of the Hotel’s residents were bearing witness to such an embarrassing situation. He made a note to attempt to save face later.

When it was finally over, his smile turned sinister. He relished the feeling of a new leash, a new bond, forming in the palm of his hand. The radio demon couldn’t help but love the way a new wave of power coursed through him He watched with glee as the chain began to form, link by link until it came to an end at the binding around your neck. But you merely smiled. This was his second clue that something was a miss.

He lifted his gaze to follow your hand, as you raised it up to grasp the glowing green bond. He watched as it strained, the shackle and the chain before it shattered in a manner that was not unlike glass. He could feel it, the broken bond. He could feel the power that had just coursed through his veins leave his body.

His lips twitched. His smile nearly fell, in fact, the overlord was certain that if it hadn’t been for the green stitches that appeared as he slipped into his demonic form, he was sure that he would have bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl. Instead, Alastor lost his composure. He reached out to grab ahold of you, but you were already two steps ahead and three out of range of the radio demon.

“What is the meaning of this.” The radio in Alastor’s voice crackled, a grating sound that nearly made you falter.

But you merely grinned, continuing to back away towards the others. “Deals are always meant to be broken.” With this, you turned on your heels and were out the door before more could be said.

You. You were exactly what he needed. But how could he possibly have you do anything in his favor without some sort of leverage or contract? It had been quite some time since someone had provoked his ire like this, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be bested like this. Not by a long shot. Alastor stood tall, dusting off his tattered coat, as if it had been sullied in some form or fashion as he watched you make your leave. It would seem that the radio demon had quite a bit of work to do.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor

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crescenthistory · 2 months ago

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do you write headcanons?? if so, i would love to see your take on how the skittles would react to their s/o walking into a slytherin party looking SMASHING

i do! especially for the skittles, the lomls<3 i have never written for pandora before, but her part came so naturally to me and now i might be in love. so um, thank you for that revelation anon!

characters: barty, evan, regulus, dorcas, pandora

warnings: this will contain implied smut and suggestive material, so mdni please. drinking, hogwarts uni au, slight d/s dynamics if you squint. reader wears skirts/dresses, but no pronouns are used.

how would the skittles react to you entering a party looking your absolute best?

barty

would be by your side in a heart-beat -> no matter where he was in the room when you walked in, the second he spots you, his arm is slung over your shoulders

angles his upper body slightly away from you, though, just enough to look down and truly take in your form

"treasure, you shouldn't have"

"thank you"

"no i mean, you shouldn't have, now we have to leave the party before it's even started"

despite wishing to have you all to himself, if you wanted to stay he would be more than happy to of course. he considers it part of the foreplay.

and he would want to show you off 100%

not out of jealousy, but rather pure pride -> i mean look at you

barty doesn't strike me as the type of person who would be jealous over you looking good, it only makes him that much more smug. in fact, i think he would LOVE being able to parade you around, showing the world that this fine specimen is his

if you let him, he would drag you into some corner to properly greet you, making sure to leave marks on your necks where others could see -> again, showing off

will not hold back his flirtatious and even salacious comments throughout the night, especially if there is drinking involved

"you look good enough to eat" with a wolfish grin

"baby you have no idea what you're doing to me"

this man is not opposed to pda, so if you are, you will have to drag him somewhere private regularly, because any visible piece of skin will have his hand and preferably mouth on it the longer you stay, even if you are in the middle of a conversation with someone else

when the night is over, your outfit discarded on the floor and you're both satisfied with celebrating the night, barty would 100% try and put it on himself

especially if it was some miniskirt/minidress number

if he's lucky, you'll grow half as hungry seeing him in the little outfit as he was and pull him back into your grasp

evan

his eyes would find you from the moment you enter the room and would not leave you for even a second

evan is quiet and stoic in his lusting yearning, but that does not mean he is subtle. he's not wolfish with howling like barty would be, but there is something definitively animalistic in how he looks at you

it is a dark kind of look that both consumes and excites you, one where you – knowing him better than almost anyone – can tell exactly what he's feeling

anyone who was trying to converse with him before you entered are now essentially talking to a brick wall. his attention is elsewhere.

he drags his eyes up and down your form, committing the outfit to memory, how it looks against your skin, how it holds your form.

every single detail will be hoarsely whispered in your ear in reverence the second he gets you alone -> you will know exactly what did him in, exactly what you do to him

he's already planning out that interaction breath by breath to keep calm when you waltz up to him

if you take your place in his lap, his arms will be around you in a heartbeat, holding you as close as possible

if you try an tease him by standing above him, he will not hesitate to drag you down to him

feeling his hot skin on yours and seeing his hooded eyes up close would kill any part of you determined on teasing him

you're both in it for the night

regulus

would be absolutely dumbstruck from the moment you enter the room and his eyes lands on you

he had been watching the door anxiously waiting for your arrival, not finding the party nearly as enjoyable as he knew he would once it was filled with your laughter

reg was already imagining a night with you and your beaming smile and perhaps crude jokes, even if they were at his expense, excitement building while waiting for you

exactly what you wanted

when i tell you this man's jaw is on the floor when he catches your figure, all that composition and self-control thrown out the window as his eyes all but ravages you

if he was holding something before he saw you, he is definitively not anymore

after a moment of astounded silence as you just smirk and take in the look on his face, i think his legs would carry him towards you without thinking

his mind only catches up with him when he is close enough to smell your perfume, almost closing his eyes at the comforting scent

"you-" he tries, but sputters over his words, mentally kicking himself – how does the poet not know how to put his feelings into words?

then again, how he feels right now is beyond even the greatest philosopher, that he is certain

"i know baby," you whisper to him before dragging him into a deep kiss

right where you are stood, in the middle of a party with both of your close friends in attendance. a situation that might have otherwise mortified him, but now he can't do anything but groan in gratitude and pull you flush against him by the small of your back

one of his hands gravitates to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling loosely in the strands of hair he finds there

you smile against his mouth at the feeling of him reverent and pliant beneath your touch

this is exactly what you envisioned when you got ready tonight

dorcas

would look you up and down from where she's sitting by the entrance and say coyly "isn't that my skirt, l/n?"

to which you'd of course reply "absolutely. i wanted to return the feeling of seeing me in it. isn't it consuming?"

dorcas is the type to lick her lips and press them together to avoid a smile, but her hungry eyes can't be suppressed

the chase is what dorcas loves the most. there will be no dragging you off to deal with you in private. she will dance around you the whole night, riling you up with her words and actions as much as you're riling her up with your outfit

"all this for me, gorgeous?"

"i will show you exactly how much i love this little outfit of yours"

a hand on your hip with her thumb hooked underneath the hem of your skirt -> not noticeable to anyone as you stand side by side, but it burns embers on your skin

leaning in close to your face with a grin to listen to you talk, eyes anywhere but on yours

leaning in close to your ear, as if she's going to whisper something to you, but instead lightly grazing it with her lips -> or even teeth, if your jewelry allows for it

nails. they're always lightly scratching you wherever she's touching you, not enough to hurt, just the perfect pressure to make you shiver. a promise

you two are never without each other the whole night, doing rounds around the party

except for when a song you two have listened to when in private comes on, and you let your hands trail out of dorcas to walk backwards onto the dance floor and sway your hips to it

you twirl around, looking at her over your shoulder through your hair

dorcas would sweat

it wouldn't take her long to join you out there though, holding your body close to hers as her hands travels all around to truly appreciate your outfit

the world melts away and all you know is just the warmth dorcas provides, the tingling through your veins from alcohol and her attention and her soft lips on yours

luckily, dorcas was ambitious and cunning as per usual, and bribed her dorm mates to sleep elsewhere tonight because that dance floor would be moved upstairs not soon thereafter

pandora

would end up flustering you more in return with how she reacted to your getup than you were able to fluster her with it

i personally often headcanon pandora as ace in some regard, but i also view her as a very observant person who loves to play around with her friends and partners in different capacities

she is amazing with patterns, and when she sees your stunning outfit that reveals more than you normally would dare at a party paired with your sly grin, she understands what game you want to play

and pandora never loses

she would come up to you and greet you sweetly, a hug and a kiss on the cheek -> just barely avoiding your lips, missing them by a mere millimeter and pulling back before you can chase for more

absolute tease

she would drown you in compliment after compliment

specific ones too, she is never one to miss a detail, especially not with you

"those earrings are new, aren't they? you've never worn them around me before, they are absolutely gorgeous. they match your eyes and brings out that lovely smile of yours."

"you noticed?" you would gulp, her own grin just too large and encompassing for your heart to handle

"i notice everything about you, bunny"

oh yes, i think she would layer it on thick with nicknames you might have otherwise grown embarrassed from, but now, paired with the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice, only flusters you more

we're talking bunny, cookie, honey, beautiful, poppet, crystal, angel, etc.

it is when she adds the my before it that you're truly done for

"you are so gorgeous in this light, my crystal. green really is your colour, i've always known"

you would be the one to grow needy throughout the night, trying to get closer and closer to her, get her hands on you in any way

pandora would just smile wider, knowing she's got you in the palm of her hand - and that means she is the luckiest girl in the room

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uncharismatic-fauna · 1 year ago

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Uncharismatic Fact of the Day

The world of entomology has been shaken by a recent discovery: a beetle without wings! Xenomorphon baranowskii is a small beetle found in Oaxaca, Mexico, is the only species of beetle where wings and their hard coverings (elytra) are absent in both males and females; among beetles, wings are particularly important for seeking out mates, so their absence in X. baranowskii is truly one of a kind.

(Image: A museum specimen of Xenomorphon baranowskii by Ferriera et al. 2023)

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a ko-fi!

#xenomorphon baranowskii #Coleoptera #Lycidae #net winged beetles #beetles #insects #arthropods #Incertae sedis #enigmatic taxa #uncharismatic facts

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lactoseintolerentswag · 7 months ago

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Rise Characterizations Pt. 8!!!!!!!!

This has literally been sitting in my drafts for so long I forgot it existed. Sorry to all the Baron Draxum fans (and Draxum himself, bbgirl deserves better). If you're new to my line of notes here's the beginning where I started with Raph. Alright part 8, Baron Draxum, here we go.

Language Habits:

Speaks in long and drawn out sentences, if you're getting nervous about run-on sentences you're on the right track

Due to this, tends to give speeches or monologues

Dramatizes everything fairly eloquently, look for the most exaggerated form of a word. Classic villain speak: "imbeciles", "brethren", "eliminate"

Puts emphasis on those dramatic adjectives and verbs

Occasionally refers to himself in the third person, not as often as Raph

Tends to yell or raise his voice when frustrated or lost in passion

A common gag is trailing off in a casual tone about the severity of his experiments ie his "if it works right" about the ooze causing pain when mutating that poor fish guy

Personality:

Incredibly intelligent yet impatient. It isn't known to my knowledge who taught Draxum or if he taught himself, but his mastery of alchemy and fighting makes him a truly impressive opponent. However, he's always cutting corners to get to his goal. He wasn't willing to raise through the ranks of The Foot the traditional way, he created an army of mutants rather than seek yokai, and was unwilling to spend further time interpreting the prophecy of doom towards yokai-kind

Flair for the (over)dramatic. Draxum is almost your classic evil villain kind of guy. He'll pull out all musical stops, including flowing hair and clothes. On the other end he'll completely overreact and commit to things of little matter like his position as a lunch lady.

Unyielding in his stubbornness. Draxum is not easily swayed in his belief, and even as hard as Mikey tries he is not rid of his disdain for humans by the end of the series. Guy was also incredibly persistent in his research despite his lab blowing up twice. This also allows him to hold longer grudges, even resorting to childish pettiness if he feels annoyed enough.

Affinity for muscles and power. He was drawn to Lou Jitsu for many reasons, but a main one was definitely his muscles. All his guards are usually incredibly beefy, and he was immediately drawn to Raph as "beautiful" when he's reintroduced to his specimens. As for power, he's drawn to the dark armor and is lost in the ecstasy of being imbued with so much mystic energy.

Self-absorbed and egotistical. Draxum is kind of obsessed with his title and self-proclaimed responsibility for saving yokai-kind. He's not one to easily admit his mistakes and takes great pride in his work.

Willing to toe the line of morality. Huginn and Muninn have blatantly called him their evil boss, but Draxum does see his actions for the good of yokai-kind. I don't think he really cares if he's working with evil organizations (The Foot) or doing evil things if he saves the day.

Team builder. I think it's interesting how Draxum is drawn to building teams. He's drawn to working together, all he wants to do is unite yokai and his mutants into an efficient force. This does not mean he's very successful.

Miscellaneous:

Has minor telekinesis

Was a warrior before he was an alchemist

Does not have a good relationship with the Three Heads (apparent leaders of the Hidden City)

Controls seeds that can a) grow into vines, b) expand into robotic vine gauntlets, c) encase his gauntlets into meatier gauntlets that can shoot out waxy cocoons

Is referred to as a sheep-man from the brothers, but I suppose whatever animal you interpret him as is up to you

Has a great singing voice :) ( which is subjective I suppose)

Alright now that is finally posted just gonna let you know that this Isn't the last of my rise analysis posts!! I'm so sorry for the wait!! I got lost in so many schedule things. I'll try and pump a few more analysis posts out within these next few weeks (excluding June 16-22), but I've also been busy working on miscellaneous wips. Thank you for being so sweet to me on all the other notes posts, you guys are so awesome :)

#save rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfic #character analysis #baron draxum #baron draxum rottmnt #critter talks

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rootspiral · 23 days ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

as usual, I'm billy. WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW, JAC SCHAEFFER

jen filling the gaps with her own headacanons, i see you girl

they're kinda doing their own little agatha deep dive, lol. she's a fascinating specimen, okay? don't you just want to study her in a petri dish?

billy, who's definitely not been projecting his mommy issues on a whole coven (three dead, several unlocked traumas) and hasn't been following agatha around like a lost puppy in need of a mentor: it'S nOT LoYALitY It'S AnALYSiS

that's agatha's entire son, dear lord. 'maximoffs are so dramatic' my ass.

YOU'VE BEEN TRYING TO VIOLENTLY SHOVE HER IN THE WARM EMBRACE OF A COVEN FOR THE PAST THREE TRIALS. for fuck's sake, william.

he's acting so mature and cynical when in fact he's so hurt about the people who died and about agatha's betrayal. he's putting up barriers, he's trying to trick himself into not caring, when crying and letting himself mourn would be much healthier responses! in other words, he's learning alllll of agatha's shitty coping mechanisms.

no but I won't shut up about this, it's the kind of psychological response that really fascinates me. billy has had to learn to lie and censor his true self because he doesn't want to upset his parents. he went through something EXTREMELY traumatic (reincarnating in someone else's dead body? hello?) and he can't process it with the kaplans, he knows it would hurt them too much.

so he finds agatha who is, on paper, someone who can absolutely understand what he's been trough and could totally help and guide him. he's tried to win her over, he's tried to open up, to understand her and to be understood in return. and agatha, DESPITE LOVING THIS KID SO FREAKING MUCH, is so EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED that she has rebuked almost every attempt at a deeper connection. and when you do that to a kid, not only you hurt them, you teach them by example. billy is not mature enough to be the bigger person, he sees agatha hurting him, he'll want to do the same. that's the kind of shit parents imprint on you that will be hell to unlearn as an adult.

agatha, who is - I promise you! - truly hurt by billy's words: ahahaha ouch!

I want to strangle her

one moment of silence for jen who's now alone and stuck in the middle between these two

agatha has somehow managed to sell billy's immortal soul to her ex wife while ALSO breaking her own heart's AND said wife's heart in the process. and she's having A TRULY NORMAL ONE about it.

aaaaand she goes straight for jen (no pun intended). starts slow and bratty with some kindergarten insults.

OUCH, AGATHA. WHAT THE FUCK?!! AND TWIRLING YOUR HAIR?!

YOU FUCKING BITCH.

oh dear lord look at jen's face. this is actually the first time I see everyone's faces (fuck you lighting department) and it's making agatha's behavior even harder to stomach. and yes by the way, this scene is absolutely a metaphor for microaggression. knowing that jen's big moment is coming is only a half-consolation.

also agatha falling on her face, that's maybe a quarter of a consolation.

of course it is. this is the green witch trial, it's about the circle of nature, it's about life and death beginning and ending and beginning again.

here comes the tantrum!!!

now she yells at billy. and he scrambles to justify himself. this is funny but also SO FUCKED UP??

lilia when billy makes a mess: that's okay baby I got you.

agatha when billy makes a mess: oh are you having a problem? I'M GONNA MAKE IT ALLLLLL ABOUT ME! I'M GOING TO MAKE IT FUCKING WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(fuck she's literally my dad. jac schaeffer I'm sending you my therapy bill)

so, anyway. if a parental figure does this to you? they're being vile and immature. I don't care if they've got their own issues, this is abuse.

(and frankly, learn to recognize this pattern in friends and partners and family too. but it's especially egregious when it's done to a literal child.)

and billy going from apologetic to stone faced. barriers up. he needs to protect himself from her.

while agatha huffs and puffs, jen quietly gets on her knees when she sees the shoes. the camera goes from sharon's shoes to lilia's to alice's.

you guys, this episode is... it's so good? it's not in-your-face like episode seven, but it's doing a lot of subtle things that are getting under my skin

agatha of course plans to barrel through her problems like a rouge zamboni, and just look at jen's reaction! I'm astonished at what sasheer zamata is accomplishing in this scene. I admit the first time around I was too fascinated by hahn chewing scenery to look anywhere else, I got a poorer viewing experience for that. jen has had all her walls up, she's been doing her one note mean girl bit for seven episodes. look at her now. she is crumbling.

god I love me a show that takes very funny characters and let you enjoy them only to pull the rug from under your feet and go: now let's examine why all their funny traits are fucked up trauma responses!

JESUS CHRIST AGATHA

agatha notices billy looking at the shoes and of course mocks him about it. what are you going to do, pay actual respect? cry and properly mourn? like some weak baby???

pay attention now: billy gets mad, and agatha suddenly looks at him with interest and, dare I say, expectation? was she provoking him on purpose?

yes, yes she was. that's the evil of agatha harkness. and I'm not saying her tantrum wasn't real, she was absolutely upset and she relished pouring all her spite and anger and desperation into it. but agatha's theatrics are always happening for a reason. when she's alone she's much more subdued; when she's in public, she vents out her overwhelming emotions trough a big fucking show, so she can make it everyone's else problem. that's the equivalent of when an abuser throws a tantrum and somehow always ends up breaking your stuff, never their own. it's both self-soothing and a scare tactic, two birds with one stone. that's why she went after jen and immediately taunted her about lilia. her words were precise and on target. she enjoyed watching jen squirm.

and yelling at billy just now? it was another one of her calculated risks. what billy is going to do next is anyone's guess, but at least they're not stuck on the Road any longer.

I don't know if I'm making myself clear enough. it's like, how can agatha be so smart and such an idiot at the same time? because she's a coward. because she chooses to. because the alternative is facing her own fucking issues and admitting the truth.

and the truth is scary. the truth is too awful.

next up: billy lands them at the morgue.

great job there, agatha!!

go to episode 8 part 5

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agatha harkness #jennifer kale #billy maximoff #character study

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reigadoodle · 6 months ago

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smash 64 ness stuck in my brain.... truly a one of a kind specimen

#ness #earthbound #super smash bros #super smash bros 64 #mother series #nintendo 64 #non-oc

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schoenpepper · 2 months ago

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Oh thine saboteur

Intro: Blackmail is Jade’s second favorite hobby. Right after hiking.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, kind of yandere-ish idk

Masterlist

Jade's Birthday Countdown

The metallic shine of a blade could never be as threatening as a folder full of papers.

“One can kill you. The other can kill your social life, your reputation…” Jade smiles oh so benevolently, the edge of the folder tracing the student’s jawline, “I don’t think one little date with Y/N is worth the blabber that’ll follow should the rest of NRC hear of your internet browsing information, hm?”

The boy freezes.

The merman clutches the papers back to his chest, eyes half-lidded as he looks over the appearance of this creature. Unworthy. Plain. Darling, he’s just so, so boring. He wonders what you, his beloved, ever found so interesting in such a weak specimen.

Wouldn’t you prefer more?

Someone better. More thrilling, perhaps? There’s no use in a man with so little bite.

“You are a person of quite some…strange tastes, I understand. But perhaps your dorm mates wouldn’t be as understanding as I am,” he sighs in faux sympathy, “truly a dilemma, wouldn’t you agree?”

And with that, your date has stood you up without you even knowing it.

“I just don’t understand why they keep asking me on dates when, when they won’t even show up! Just a text saying they can’t make it, is that supposed to be enough?!”

And like every other time that such a terrible tragedy has unfortunately befallen you, you come running back into Jade’s arms, none the wiser. The prettiest of crystalline tears leave little marks on your cheeks, and he wants nothing more than to kiss them away.

(Or make them fall harder.)

“Of course not darling,” he coos, hugging you tighter, “they’re not enough for you. None of them were. Perhaps this is a sign to step away from dating, hm?”

You nod.

He does hate to see you heartbroken, truly.

But he can’t just stand by and watch you twiddle about with some unsavory characters. You know you can’t trust anyone. So why not just…trust Jade? Trust your best friend.

Trust him with your tears. He’ll wipe them away for you.

Trust him with your heart. He’ll protect it for you.

Trust him with your life.

(Do it. See what he does then.)

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade leech

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maopll · 2 years ago

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Can I request headcanons of Dottore, Pantalone, Baizhu, Tighnari, and Albedo with a toxicologist s/o?

Dottore and her are a match made in heaven or hell.

The sweetest poison <3

| genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: the title kinda sounds wrong but I couldn't think of anything else. and the fact that there's so many similar requests I got like are y'all the same person or smth ??

⌗:, warning: mentions of poison,,blood 'n stuff

⌗:, pairings: dottore, tighnari, pantalone, albedo, baizhu, & childe w/ gn!reader

DOTTORE

He was on his way to your lab to ask for a few ingredients that only you have special access to. It was a Sunday evening. The sun is almost settling down for the day and the moon is still evident on the sky. he knocked on your door and your fading voice telling "come in" was his cue to get in.

He saw you tending to a few fly traps and some deadly nightshade. "I want to get a few ingredients from you that are on this list" he told you to which you replied "just grab them from the shelf you know where they are". You and him have spent so much time together in each of your labs that he knows where every ingredient is. He grabbed a few and looked at a vial on the wooden lab table. "are you done with the experiment that you were working on?"

"no its still left, but it will be finished within thus week or the week after. I need more lab rats to test that on. the results are that satisfactory so I'll have to observe more". If there had to be anything in common between you two is that one both of you are always occupied with experiments and two torture.

To others your conversation may sound like that of a colleague with colleague but dottore barely held this gentle tone with others. Only with you would his more cruel and crude nature would slip away. Others may find it weird how the most fearsome person on the plant is talking so naturally with you but you know, its his way of telling you that he loves you just as much as you do.

ALBEDO

He asks for many plant species and specimens from you. You spent years studying in the academiya and truly were the knowledge you accumulated were like treasure. The knights of favonius gave you your own permit of being able to handle and use poisonous plants. Ofcourse your research was worthwhile as you found many medicines for untreatable diseases.

If he ever comes across a peculiar plant he just goes to you. he knows how well you know the plants around you. you are usually stuck up in your lab but even you worry about albedo encountering a poisonous plant by accident as one time he brought one you burnt that away as your eyes were wide like flying saucers. Atleast ge didn't affect...

"[name] would you look at this? I found a few different flowers when I was in inazuma. I haven't seen them everywhere. Maybe you know something about them?" and yes you did know. You told him a great deal about its origin, its structure, its uses and location.

There comes many a moments when you two share your insightful knowledge with eachother. It started the day when you two were dating first and you two realised that both of you love alchemy and the mysteries shrouding it. These are some times you cherish the most as he hears every detail you spell with his head resting on his hand and the other scribbling points to remember. "hm? why are you smiling? is there something on my face love?..."

it's the beauty on his face that you are looking at.

PANTALONE

He was a banker and you were a toxicologist. You two falling in love was pure coincidence and...true love as he would term it. He often finds you pulling out some purple stuff from your hands. Those were poison. He knew after you told him about it and he froze there on the spot. He thought you would die the next moment. You tried so hard to reassure him saying that it happens and you wouldn't die. He is afraid to lose someone dear to him once again in his life...

He always checks on you to see if you are not hurt or in any kind of pain. After checking that you are alright and tending to your plants in your greenhouse he would return back to his office as he would hold a small photo of yours with you concentrating on a potted toxic plant as butterflies, probably wild and dangerous, also swarming around your hair. He loves staring at that picture of yours. You tending so gently to the plant. Whenever he would remind those days when you two were still young lovers and inexperienced.

It feels as if it was yesterday when you two finally had your first kiss and were smiling brightly with faces blushed turning into the hue of a tomato.

Even if he is a fatui and ruthless man, he still has a soft spot for you and only you.

TIGHNARI

Injured, poisoned, senseless, unconscious, and many patients flock into the forest watchers' treatment room. Tighnari is busy throughout the day. Teaching young forest rangers and treating patients. There is never a free time in the young man's hands, but with the coming of you, things have been even easier to handle and treatments can be done even faster as you would give swift and simple orders to people to follow to treat the patients.

The vaccines you created after countless trial and errors with combined hardwork always paid off. Your medicines are sold everywhere. It was tighnari who recommended your medicines to the amurta darshan and bimarstan to use them. Many were hesitant as they were made from poisonous plants but...After trying out it worked wonders! no side effects were there

Every Sunday evening is when you two would tend to your own plants. Him watering the plants as you sowed a few seeds or fertilised them with your dendro vision. It almost feels as if you two are married and leading a domestic life tending to your plant children. At nights is when the both of your are wrapped up jn eachothers arms under the moonlight as the stars gaze upon your young love. Its a peaceful silence shared between you two as you two drift away to sleep to the lulls of the chirping crickets and the buzzing of the fireflies.

CHILDE

He returns with scars all around his body and had it not been your extraordinary medicines there would have been plenty of infections all over his body. Even if you try to act angry at him deep down both you and him know how worried you are. Every time he reminds himself to not get hurt to the point of being the reason for your worries.

Whenever he would get time on his hands he would join you on your experiments as he would look at you with awe as you swiftly handled vials and scribbled down notes for future reference. Thousands no, maybe even more toxic plants were there than that meets the eye.

You forbade him from touching anything since you do not trust him with such complex substances and liquids and poisonous plants. "oh come on...you're no fun! nothing would happen if I touch just ONE plan—" and there he goes, with a *thump* and falling on his back. Good now he just increased your workload.

After he woke up you gave him a full one hour lecture after he did that and he swears to never touch your plants again.

But he would never miss a free trip to your greenhouse. The variety of plants and the sweet smell emanating from them was mind blowing. He loved seeing you work skillfully with the most dangerous poison as if they were water. He can't hide that stupid blush that spreads across his fair cheeks as he always remembers 'my soulmate is so strong' with a cheeky grin plastered on his face

"what are you smiling for ajax ?"

BAIZHU

"qiqi my dear, would you please call [name] for me, hm?". Qiqi tip toed her way towards your laboratory and softly knocked on your door since it was already midnight. All the houses had blowed out their lanterns and retired to bed for the night except a certain pharmacist and a toxicologist.

You understood why he may have called you so after thanking the little qiqi you walked your way towards your lovers study. The soft pulsating light could be seen from the end of the hallway of your shared abode. He was there writing some prescriptions for the patients who came the other day along with a few medical documents. Looks like he might have to pull an all-nighter to complete those.

"dear can you get me some herbal tea to wake myself up? I need to finish these since the patients will be coming tomorrow"

You brought him some herbal tea, which you prepared from freshly picked flowers from your greenhouse. "Mh...as delicious as always." his tone soft and low to not wake changsheng up who was deep into slumber. You were there with him in his room helping him with some prescriptions since you were also quite well aware of the plants that are toxic and which are not. With your help, only a few of those were left and he might be able to get a blink of sleep that day. He chuckled softly as the sound of his laughter soon died down and the ticking of the clock once again begun.

Throughout the night no words were spoken between the two lovers as they completed their paperworks under the soft illumination provided by the halfway melted candle and the crackling of the flame. The moon went for its own slumber as dawn freshened

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axeeglitter · 4 months ago

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The Silent Sentinel

Jason was bored out of his mind. This school trip was supposed to be about history, culture, and learning something useful—all things Jason didn’t find interesting. Castles, knights, and ancient ruins were about as exciting to him as a brick wall. No, what he really wanted was to find a way out of this place. Maybe hit the pub he’d seen just outside the castle walls, grab a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some local girls, and hopefully end the night getting laid—that was Jason’s plan.

Jason had always been more of a sports guy rather than a book guy. For him, the most important thing was to have a good time and to make every minute worth living. As soon as he could walk, he started running after balls, climbing trees, and laughing all day long with his friends. Jason had always been a joy to be around, and people were always asking him to join in for a good time. His easy-going attitude and laid-back mentality made him the star of his class from kindergarten until now in college and as soon as he was old enough, he decided to get a tattoo to remind himself that life was short, a line going from his elbow to his wrist and ending as an arrow. At around 6ft 4, Jason was a mountain on the football field. The only thing bigger than his height was his natural aura of dominance, emphasized by his perfectly crafted body. But the thing that really made him the star of every conversation was his million-dollar smile, his curly, wavy blonde hair, and his deep blue eyes. Yes, Jason was truly a perfect specimen of a human being.

______________________________________________________________

“The armors you’ll see all around this place are the eternal protectors of this place. Each one of them are unique because they all belonged to different people and they wear the proofs of their identifications. According to the legend, the armors used to be living soldiers, but the king ruling in this castle couldn't accept his knights to run away, so he cursed the castle and its walls, transforming every soldier trying to run away before the end of their mission and duty into eternal protectors of this walls, and doing so, trapping them as the armors you'll see all around, protecting the place they tried to run away. But don’t worry, this is only some lore and the local explication to why there are so many armors in this place. In reality, this probably used to be some kind of refuge for knights as they were walking from town to town offering their help. Anyway, follow me, on your left you’ll find the grand hall…” said the guide as he kept walking, followed by Jason’s teachers and the other students.

As the tour group made its way deeper into the castle, Jason lagged behind, half listening to this nonsense the guide was talking about. He was getting further and further from the group while shooting quick glances at his friends that seemed really intrigued by this visit. He wasn’t about to stay stuck here listening to this old-looking man who probably hadn’t seen the light of day in years. This was a pure waste of time. Bricks, rocks, paintings, tapestries, a lot of old empty armor—what a shame to spend such a beautiful day stuck between these dusty walls. For Jason, it was enough. This had to end. But he knew he couldn’t just leave like that. Jason really had to pass this class, or he’d lose his scholarship.

As the guide entered the grand hall, full of the same tapestries and armors holding spears in their hands, it was the last straw for Jason.

“I’m done,” he muttered under his breath.

Out of nowhere, he took out his phone and pretended to answer a call in a hurry. He acted concerned and almost stressed, talking just loud enough for his friends to hear him.

“Yeah, okay… well, I can’t right now, I’m on a vi… okay, yeah, okay. I’m on my way!”

Jason hung up his phone and put it back in his pocket as his friends, still walking toward the room, looked at him.

“Is everything okay?” asked Jason’s best friend, Matt.

"Hey, yeah, I gotta go. An emergency came up, I need to get home ASAP. Catch you later.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, dude? You good?"

"Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just something I need to handle. I'll text you later."

Without waiting for a response, Jason slipped down a narrow hallway leading toward what he thought was the exit. His heart raced with excitement, not because of any thrill for exploration, but at the thought of escaping the dull history lesson for something more fun. The pub wasn’t far, just a short walk across the courtyard, and he’d be able to grab a drink, chat up a girl, and then go back to his room, where he’d have the rest of the day to relax, play some games, and invent an excuse if anyone asked. The day was finally about to begin!

As Jason moved through the castle, the twisting corridors began to confuse him. Every turn looked the same, and he realized with growing frustration that he had managed to get himself lost.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, pushing open another old, heavy door at the end of the hallway. The room was dimly lit and almost empty except for another rusty, old-looking suit of armor standing in the corner and an ancient-looking table in the center. Jason stepped inside, scanning the empty space, hoping to find an emergency door or an employee exit leading to the main courtyard.

“Another one… Ain't no way I'm staying there any longer. Done with this boring bullshit. Let me out!” he muttered, dropping his shoulders in frustration and exhaustion as he turned to leave the room.

But as Jason tried to leave, his feet wouldn’t move. His body stiffened, a strange sensation creeping up his legs. Jason glanced down, trying to see why his feet were stuck to the floor. That’s when he saw it. All around him, engraved in the stones and covered by centuries of dust and grime, a dim light began to shine through the dust. Lines of shimmering purple light started to appear, soon forming intricate glyph designs.

“What the…” Panic set in as Jason struggled to move, feeling his legs frozen in place. The glyphs on the floor glowed brighter, their light pulsing in rhythm with his quickening heartbeat. He tried to yank his feet free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the symbols’ grip became.

"No one leave before the end of their mission..." heard Jason in a faint murmuring voice echoing between the walls.

Before he could scream for help, Jason felt a weird sensation spreading through his lungs and body. He turned his head to see dust starting to float around him. First, it was only a grain of dust, then a second one, and soon, a swirling bubble of dust engulfed him in a thick tornado of fear. Jason thought it was the end, that he would die here, his body lost forever in this empty room. Closing his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself, he suddenly felt wind on his forearms. Jason opened his eyes in surprise—how could he feel the wind on his bare forearms when he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a coat? Wait, now it was his calves. What was happening?! Tilting his head, he saw through the thick cloud of magical dust that his clothes were turning into dust. Threads of fabric were ripping from him, swirling into the air before disintegrating.

Jason screamed for help, but no sound came out. Everything went silent, muted by the wind and glyphs. And suddenly, as Jason panicked, feeling his body exposed to the elements, the movement stopped. Everything stood still for a moment before exploding away from him. His clothes, now dust, scattered across the room, forever lost. Jason stood naked in the center of the room, the glyphs still glowing all around him. He tried to move, thinking it was over, but his feet were still frozen.

Then, a strange warmth spread from his groin, catching his breath. His hands shot down instinctively, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. His entire groin glowed with a faint purple hue, just like the floor beneath him. The warmth quickly turned into a searing heat surging through his lower body, the pain so intense it left him gasping.

Jason’s hands flew to his cock. He tried to hold it as an alien sensation began rising within him. It felt like it wanted to grow harder and harder, longer and longer. The feeling was both deeply arousing and weirdly terrifying. It was a pulsating force building inside him, and Jason was trying to resist it. But with one pulse from the glyphs, Jason felt his cock head push his fingers away. He saw it then—his cock elongating, hardening, then transforming, taking on another form and color. The familiar sensation of his manhood was replaced by something cold, metallic, and dangerous. He looked down in horror as he saw it shining between his fingers. His cock had stretched and turned into a massive sword, its shaft glinting in the dim light.

Jason’s mouth hung open, paralyzed with fear. His own flesh had turned into a sword. Just as he was about to scream in pure terror, he felt a new sensation beginning to spread in his nuts. His balls started to merge together. The pain was excruciating as the nerves intertwined and fused. Jason could have fainted from the intensity, but he remained conscious, trapped in the agony and his own powerlessness. Suddenly, his larger nut began to retract into the sack, which itself started to rise higher. Jason heard a pop, then a crack, and before he could catch his breath, he felt his hands gripping his balls as they began to harden and merge with the base of his cock sword. In an instant, his nuts had become the handle of his cock.

Jason was about to cry when the glyphs spasmed with power. His hands loosened slightly, just enough to let the sword fall and hit the ground with a loud metallic clang. His body convulsed, his knees nearly buckling from the impact as Jason realized he could still feel everything—the impact, the cold, grimy floor against his cock, and the vibration of the metal reverberating through his balls. It was as if his cock and balls, though transformed, were still part of him, still flesh in some twisted way.

He gasped in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached down to grab the sword, desperate to reverse whatever had happened. But the moment his calloused hands touched the hilt, it was like squeezing his own nuts with a crushing grip. Pain surged through him, and he screamed out. Jason tried to release the hilt, but his fingers wouldn’t obey—they were frozen in place, gripping his balls tightly. It felt as though his body was no longer fully under his control.

Jason wanted to drop the sword, to escape the agony, but his body didn’t respond. Unbeknownst to him, this was only the beginning.

Jason tried to scream, but no sound escaped his throat. Behind him, he heard metallic noises, one after another. Then, all at once, a loud bang echoed, followed by the sound of sand flowing on an empty beach—the kind of sound that could be calming, but not in this moment.

Before his eyes, he saw shimmering tentacles of dust beginning to engulf his calves, then his arms, chest, and legs. It felt like something was embracing him. Oddly, it was almost soothing, and for a brief moment, Jason nearly forgot where he was. The sound and sensation were calming his torment. But a faint breeze brushing against the sword snapped him back to reality. When he resurfaced a few seconds later, he realized his body was constricted. He turned his head just in time to see the empty suit of armor in the corner of the room dissolving into dust, swirling around his head as a helmet formed and encased his face. Jason’s entire body was trapped inside the armor, locking him in place.

Jason looked down at himself in disbelief, his breath shallow and panicked as it echoed within the helmet. He could feel the cold metal against his bare skin. He tried to move, but nothing happened. He tried to scream, but no sound came from the helmet. The only part of him still under his control was his head.

Through the eyeholes of the helmet, Jason saw the purple light again. He understood it wasn’t over for him yet.

Suddenly, it felt like his feet were burning. The sensation spread up his legs, into his chest, arms, and finally his face and brain. The pain was unbearable, his vision blurred, and he thought he was being boiled alive. But just as Jason was about to pass out, he felt a pop in his bones, and a purple light began emanating from within the armor, glowing through his skin and bones. Jason screamed silently as light poured from his mouth. His eyes shut one last time as a tear of fear and pain rolled down his vanishing cheek. His body was disintegrating, turning into ash, dissolving bit by bit. His hands, his legs, his chest—all turned to dust, floating and falling within the armor before being absorbed by it.

Jason screamed in silence; his voice trapped within his mind as his body dissolved. He could still feel everything—his hands gripping the sword’s hilt, his feet on the cold stone floor, the weight of the armor pressing down on him—but he was no longer flesh and blood. He was nothing more than the armor now, a hollow, metal shell, yet still fully aware.

Jason tried to move, but he couldn’t. His body had become the armor, and there was no one left inside to control it.

As the glyphs continued to shine, Jason felt something being engraved onto the hilt of his sword. Beneath his armored fingers, a glyph appeared, etched into the metal. An intricate design started to form. A human silhouette started to appear in a standing position being encircled by what looked like a leaking sword centered in a shield with a castle on top of it. Then, as he thought it was over, a new engraving staring to appear on the lengths of his sword, centered between the two sharp sides. A line going from the hilt to the tip and ending as an arrow, a perfect mirror picture of the tattoo he used to have. When the engravings were complete, the glyphs shone brightly one last time before fading, leaving only the mark behind.

Jason felt his body moving of its own accord, walking back to the corner of the room where the armor had stood before he’d entered. Every movement his legs were taking, every breeze of wind on his naked metallic body, every bit of friction was sending shiver of orgasmic sensation in his sword. Jason would have cried and begged for cum and release if he had the chance. But nothing came, just frustration as another step was taken until he was where he belonged.

Jason took a standing position, gripping the sword even tighter, inadvertently squeezing his nuts harder. The tip of the sword scraped against the floor, sending a tingling sensation through his entire being that once again screamed for release.

Jason wanted to scream, to cum, to escape—but nothing happened. He was stuck there, waiting for the curse to be broken.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed—minutes, hours, Jason couldn’t tell. He was frozen in place, his thoughts racing, but his body immobile. The cursed room was silent, save for the occasional drip of water echoing in the distance. Then, suddenly, the door creaked open.

If Jason had still had a heart, it would have leaped. His friends—Mike and a few others—entered the room, laughing and chatting as they followed the tour guide. They seemed oblivious to the oppressive air of the chamber, their voices echoing off the walls.

Mike stepped forward, stopping in front of Jason’s armored form, unaware that he was staring at his best friend. He gazed up at the imposing figure.

“Whoa, check this out!” Mike called, drawing the others' attention. “This one look so epic. I wonder how old this armor is.”

Jason screamed inside his mind, desperate to be seen, to be saved, but his body remained as still as ever. The tour guide, unaware of the curse lingering in the room, droned on about the room’s history, speaking of old sorcery and forgotten rituals. But Jason’s friends didn’t care about what the guide was talking about—they were more interested in the armor and the sword.

“Dude, look at the sword!” Mike said, grinning. “This thing is massive. Bet it was for a fucking Captain knight or something.”

Jason’s entire being quaked in horror as Mike reached down and grabbed the sword—his sword, his penis. As Mike too hold of the hilt, he felt something weird. It was almost like it was warm to the touch, spasming with power, craving for touch and sensation. As Mike started to move back and forth moving the sword left and right, he swears he heard a faint murmur from the back of his mind, “Help me… feels, painf… good… don’t… stop.” Mike blinked a few times as he tried to understand if he was dreaming awake but his other friends called for him and the weird sensations vanished into the void as he laughed back playing a bit more with the sword. For Jason, the sensation was unbearable. It was like someone had taken hold of his most sensitive part, jerking and playing with it. Every time Mike moved the sword, Jason could feel it. The cold steel, the rough handling, the vertigo-inducing sensation of Mike squeezing his nuts while moving his cock left and right—it was all too real.

The group laughed and joked, unaware that every swing of the sword was torture for Jason. One of them even pretended to knight Mike with it, holding the blade up with mock seriousness.

Jason’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and humiliation. His friends—the people he had once trusted—were now unwittingly torturing him. Every time they touched the sword, he felt it deep in his core. His mind screamed for them to stop, but no one could hear his silent pleas as he watched them playing with his most intimate part, begging for someone to free him.

“Man, this sword is fucking epic,” Mike said with a laugh. “It’s so heavy. The knight who owned it must have been super strong. Like, I’m sure he was fighting and winning every fight!”

Jason could only wish it were true, that he could win this fight. But all he could do was endure, helpless in his new state, feeling everything happening but unable to do anything about it.

At one point, Mike joked, “I bet whoever owned this armor had to be a badass. You think they ever knew it’d end up stuck in a dusty old room like this?”

The words cut deep, and Jason’s mind spiraled into despair. Would he be trapped here forever? Would anyone ever know the truth? The laughter of his friends echoed in his mind; each taunt a dagger to his soul.

Eventually, the group grew tired of playing with the sword and returned it to its place, making sure the sword was held tight between the metallic fingers. As Mike finished positioning the fingers back in place, he noticed a strange engraving between the blades of the sword, it looked like a glyph leading to a line ending up as an arrow. As he blew on it, he swore he saw shimmering purple dust flow out of the engraving. He knew this symbol, but as his mind was about to put the pieces together, he heard someone calling for him. Mike got back up and started walking out of the room, forgetting about it after a couple of minutes. Jason stood there, holding his cock between his hands, feeling every faint movement and vibration of the walls and floor resonating in his empty armor body and cock as he kept screaming for help while hearing his friends entering a new room as the guide kept talking about the legends of this medieval castle he was now a part of.

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys!

I hope you enjoyed this new story. Let me know if you want to see more of Jason's journey. I have some ideas of where things could go for him, and no, it won't only be inanimate transformations if you want me to continue it.

As always, let me know what you thought of it, whether you enjoyed it or not, and if you have any ideas about what could happen next or where you want the story to go.

Also, I saw the results of the poll, and the story you voted for will be released really soon, so stay tuned.

Last but not least, I still have some slots left for free shorter stories based on your prompts. So feel free to send me messages or ask (anonymous is fine, don’t worry) if you have ideas you want me to write. It can be pretty much any theme you desire, but it's first come, first served.

In the meantime, have a nice day and see you soon! :)

#male transformation #my writing #mental change #male tf #reality change #tf #gay #inanimate transformation #inanimate tf #knight tf #sword tf #historical tf

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