#yellow wine cellar walls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rinhaler · 9 months ago

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I Guess I Can't State My Feelings Too Soon

Your big brother is jealous and he hates himself for it :(

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ step brother!taiju shiba x f!reader

Genre: porn! (minimal plot) Notes: my first tokyorev fic since i moved blogs wheeee did NOT think it would be taiju but i cannot stop thinking about that man Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, stepcest!, jealousy ♡, possessiveness, co-dependency, virgin!reader, male masturbation ♡, sex toys ♡, porn consumption, panty theft ♡, unhealthy relationship, power dynamics. Words: 3.5k

He often wonders if you realise how ungrateful you come across, sometimes. Not only ungrateful, but disrespectful to boot.

Do you know how hard your big brother works? You’ll say you do, if he were to ask. But he’s sure you have no idea. He shielded you from the horrors of his world as you were thrust upon him out of nowhere. His new, beautiful step-sister who’s eyes would spill tears around raised voices. What choice did he have? You’d never understand or be able to comprehend his way of life or the world he had built for himself and his family.

As your other siblings grew up and drifted away, Taiju kept you dependent on him. He made it so you had to rely on him for everything. He’s putting you through fashion school while subsidizing your very existence. He keeps you fed and clothed all in the comfort of his beautiful penthouse.

You want for nothing.

And he’s never made you feel inadequate for your obvious dependency.

He doesn’t use it as a weapon or hold it against you. He just adores you, wholly. His beautiful little sister, the sweet little darling who needs her big brother to do everything for her. It motivates him, truthfully. When things feel hard, mundane, tedious, he reminds himself who he’s doing it for.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Takashi.” you smile, giddily, waving like a schoolgirl with a crush as you watch him leave.

He waves, too. A wide grin on his face as his eyes scrunch up with joy. It soon fades, though, as he finds himself accidentally walking right into your brother’s chest. Taiju’s expression harrows, though you don’t register it as you focus on the way Takashi smiles at you before excusing himself.

You’re ungrateful, and disrespectful.

His neck and jaw jerk as he tears off his tie. He’s visibly irritated, but you’re too naïve to realise. You greet him, excitedly, though you’re soon left feeling dejected when he opts to ignore you instead.

“Get me some wine from the cellar.” he demands. Without a please or even a glance in your direction, you know something is wrong. You’ve never been one to deny him, however, slinking away to the lounge to retrieve an aged red from the wall-built cellar.

He looks at you when you return, sliding the bottle to him across the marble countertop of the kitchen island separating you. It’s a brief look, that makes your heart throb with hurt. He’s mad at you, but you don’t know why. Soft yellow eyes that only offer gentle glances are showing you a side to your brother you didn’t know existed.

His pupils are almost slitted like a wild animal, eyes you’ve never seen before where your brother is concerned. He sighs, watching the cogs clank in your brain as you try and analyse who this man is before you.

Luckily for you, he doesn’t think he’s capable of staying angry with you.

“Would you like a drink, little sister?” he questions. It stops you from thinking, momentarily.

It’s a first. He’s never let you drink before, let alone his prized cellar wine. You take a seat on the bar stool regardless, nodding excitedly at the prospect of having your first real drink with your favourite brother. He twists off the lid and slides the glass he’d gotten for himself over to you.

Your heart rate quickens as his eyes, those same, predatory eyes, remain fixated on you as he pours. The wine spills like blood, sloshing into your glass until it’s halfway full. And somehow, without even watching what he’s doing, he managed to not spill a drop.

He takes off his blazer and sets it down on the counter. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves and turns away from you to fetch another glass for himself. His muscles flex and you see his exposed, veiny arms sheen with sweat as he reaches up to grab the nearest glass.

“Pour it for me.” he tells you, setting it down as he turns to face you again. His eyes seem tired, now, but still unfamiliar to you. And so you find yourself nodding, doing exactly what your big brother has asked as your hairline begins to form beads of sweat.

You don’t look at him, not even briefly, as you start to pour. You’re slow and patient, but you feel him staring at you all the while. And it’s menacing. Even with patience and focus, you spill a drop onto the pristine marble.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

You move to find something to wipe it up with, but he stops you before you can even jump down from the stool. He presses his thick thumb into the cherry red liquid, seemingly absorbing it all before he raises it to his lips. You watch keenly as your brother’s tongue juts seductively from his lips before he meticulously licks over the pad of his thumb to taste it.

He clears his throat and leans across countertop.

You feel so small.

“Was that your boyfriend?” he wonders, eyes glued to you as he speaks with a low, gravelly tone. He sips soon after, making mental notes of your responses as you process his words.

“U-Um, no, Taiju,” you shake your head. You feel blistering heat in your face as you think about your classmate, and the intimate thoughts you’ve had about him for weeks now, all while your brother’s attention is entirely fixed on you. “We’re in the same class! He came to drop off some books he thought might help me.”

It’s a confession that is entirely the truth. He isn’t your boyfriend and you’re sure he never will be. Not unless he makes the first move, that is. You’re far too shy to even suggest that your feelings for him a more intense than they should be for simple classmates. Taiju nods, finally looking away from you as he takes another drink.

“Finish up and go to bed.” he commands.

You nod, too nervous to argue. You’ve never seen him like this or even heard him be so curt with you. It won’t bother you to go to bed, not one bit. Hopefully tomorrow he’ll be back to his usual, loving self.

He leaves you alone as he strides towards his study, finally giving you the chance to breathe. You knock back the remainder of your wine and pick up your book bag and school supplies, your pace hastening as you get closer to your room.

“Oi.” Taiju speaks, voice booming through the hallway before you can open the door to your bedroom. He leans against the doorframe to his office, arms folded as his eyes squint at you. “If you want to have people over, clear it with me first.” he demands.

“Oh,” you sigh, and it’s riddled with relief as you realise that is what the problem has been all along. He’s upset you’ve invited a stranger into his home without asking. It’s understandable, and you’re soon smiling again as you look at him. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.” you admit, regretting it almost instantly as it soon feels irrelevant to have said.

“I don’t want boys I don’t know here alone with my little sister.” he tells you.

He approaches, and your anxiety soars once again as you sense a looming threat in the air and the shortening distance between the two of you. He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, your breath hitching at the contact while he forces you to look into his saffron gaze.

“You are very dear to me,” he confesses, “If anyone were to take advantage of you… well. You’re going to do as I ask next time, aren’t you? We won’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course… I’m so sorry, I should have—”

“You should.” he snarls. “But I forgive you. Go to bed, now.”

You nod, feeling slightly more upbeat after hearing he’s accepted your apology. He stops you from retreating to your room, though. His large, heavy hand encasing your forearm in a tight grip whilst his thumb still caresses your chin. It drifts, though, pulling the fat of your lower lip before he pulls it away. He taps his own lip twice, his expression still unamused as he looks at you.

“A goodnight kiss, princess,” he orders. You nod, it’s not out of the ordinary to kiss him goodnight. You stand on your tip toes before leaning in to peck his lips. They’re soft, and fit against yours beautifully as both of your eyes close during the contact. It’s chaste, to the point, and yet you’ve never felt an intensity during a kiss from him like you have just now.

His eyes are gentle, again. And the smile he offers is earnest. He kisses your cheek before you go, whispering in your ear sensually enough for a chill to traverse down your spine.

“Good girl.”

He opens the door to your room, remaining in place until you go inside. He shuts it after you get inside, leaning his back against the nearest wall as his head thuds against it. The cold metal of his rings cools down his flushed face, though he finds himself breathless.

Not from the act of a simple kiss, it’s the shame. Feelings for you, his sweet little sister, bubbling to the surface despite trying to repress them for so many years. He’s jealous and he’s ashamed of himself for letting things go this far. But you are his.

His sister.

His responsibility.

His property.

“Jesus Christ—”

He catches himself. He kicks away from the wall and rakes his fingers through tousled hair as he decides to distract himself with work in his office.

It’s taken blood and sweat to reach what he’s achieved. From being a sixteen year old menace to society, he’s now a highly respectable businessman with a chain of restaurants under his belt. Among other, less legal sources of income, of course.

It’s all for you.

As he looks through business expenses and documents from his lawyers, all he can think of is you.

It’s all been for you.

It’s always been for you.

He pushes his hair out of his face, noticing how it’s starting to cling to his forehead as he sweats profusely. Thoughts of you plaguing his every thought. His cock begins to throb in his slacks. His eyes drift from the papers scattered across his desk to his computer monitor. And then, slowly, they sink to the locked top drawer of his desk.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He ignores the drawer, instead, deciding to ignore his responsibilities as he types Pornhub in the search engine. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he speaks, exasperated as the homepage is flooded with an assortment of trending step sibling videos.

His heart pounds as he scrolls for a while, but eventually finds the willpower to click away, opting to find something else. He’s a simple man with simple taste. He’s always been into rougher stuff, deciding something along those lines will be best to quickly rub one out and clear his mind so he can focus on what he actually needs to be getting on with.

He clicks on a video, immediately cringing at the corny plot and dialogue as he unbuttons his shirt and rids himself of his belt. He’s panting as he pulls out his cock. If he’s been honest, his cock has been leaking since you fetched his wine so obediently.

He hisses when he realises he’s thinking about you again.

And soon enough he’s willing himself to concentrate on the girl in the video getting fucked within an inch of her life. It’s loud, rough, aggressive. Just how he likes. He tugs desperately, a vein popping in his forehead as he eagerly tries to get off to what he’s seeing.

It’s your fault.

He’s wondering if you’d ever be into fucking like this. He’s sure you’re a virgin, so he’d have to be careful with you at first.

“Fucking stop,” he whines.

He wants to cum to her, the girl in the video. It’s a lie, though. He wants to cum to you. He wants to hear how gorgeous you’d sound if he were the one to defile you for your very first time. Your own step brother, infiltrating your walls and making you cum around his cock.

“Shit,” he keeps trying to concentrate on her. His eyes soon wandering to the locked drawer again. He glances one final time at the video, grunting as he continues to fuck his fist until ultimately giving up.

He searches something new. Something he’s never beat one off to before. Softcore virgin. He grimaces as his finger hovers above the enter key, he knows he won’t be able to finish otherwise, but part of him thinks it’s not too late to turn back. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the sheer amount of results that are step-sibling videos. He considers it, again. He really does, but as he continues to scroll, he starts to take an interest in the masturbation videos.

The soft, feminine moans immediately make his cock jump. It’s perfect, it’s so sickeningly perfect because he can pretend it’s you. And if he’s this far gone, he feels no need to deprive himself anymore. He lifts up his keyboard, sliding the locked drawer key from a hidden compartment underneath. His hands are practically shaking as he tries to slide it into the slot. He quickly turns, breathing heavily as he almost rips the drawer from its place as he opens it.

He scoffs as his hand flies to a clear fleshlight, yanking it out and setting it down on his desk before he retrieves what he’s really been avoiding this whole time.

You’ve never had to do laundry, and he doesn’t do it either. He hires staff to come through the week to do tedious things like cleaning the apartment and washing dirty clothes. It’s been about a fortnight since he saw an opportunity laid bare before him.

You were at school, a fact now he’s growing to despise as he imagines you flirting with Takashi Mitsuya during your classes. But he was working from home, too irritated to handle business dealings in person on that particular Thursday. And he happened to see a maid emerge from your room with a laundry basket, a frilly pink thong atop a pile of outfits you’d worn through the week to college.

He wrestled with himself, he did.

But it wasn’t too difficult to distract the maid for long enough to pocket them for himself.

The video continues to play, his cock gushing as he stares down at your panties. He’s too far gone. He’s too aroused and his mind is muddied as he thinks about everything going on in his life and yours. You’re too honest to lie, Mitsuya isn’t your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never be.

He snatches the thong and strokes his cock with it in hand. His eyes roll back, a broken moan leaving his lips as he continues to pleasure himself. He stops abruptly, though, as the woman in the video he’s watching stops teasing her clit. She shows off a dildo, slowly rubbing it through her wet folds until she eventually begins to push it inside of herself.

She’s cute, but she isn’t you.

If he closes his eyes, however, she is. He looks to his fleshlight, deeming this the closest he’ll get to fucking you no matter how desperately he yearns for it. He carefully guides his tip into the plastic pussy, moaning a little louder than intended as he bottoms out.

He bites his lip as he recalls the woman in the store squeezing her thighs together as she helped him pick the toy out. It makes him laugh, briefly, as he recalls how forward she had been. He fucked her in the changing rooms as she insisted she’d need to see what he was packing so that she could help him pick the perfect model.

She sent him away with the biggest size.

Your pussy won’t feel like this, though. He’s certain you won’t be so generous and accommodating. Your tight little virgin cunt will fight against him, but he’ll make it fit.

“Jesus, fuck—” he groans, admitting defeat for the final time as he brings your panties to his face and almost suffocates himself with the material.

His chest swells as he inhales, before it deflates with shuddering breaths as he savours the scent of your used unmentionables. He picks up the pace with his toy in tandem with the woman in the video. His moans are boisterous and uncaring, he’s lost the ability to feel shame as he imagines you bouncing on his cock crying his name and trying to become accustomed to his length.

He needs it more than air.

He needs it more than he needs to fucking breathe.

“Shit, ah—” he grunts, he bites his lip as he continues to pound into the fucktoy in his grip. He grunts stridently as he spurts into the fleshlight. He watches through heavy, lidded eyes at the clear plastic, watching how his balls tighten and deposit his creamy load into the faux pussy. “Fuck, Taiju.” he sighs, but laughs as he slowly begins to stroke himself with the toy. He hisses, feeling sensitive from his release as he milks himself of every last drop he can drain.

He exhales breathlessly once he’s done. His chest rising and falling as he allows his body to melt into his leather chair. He looks around the room, and he looks at himself. The crushing reality of what he’s just done weighs down on him. He’s spent, but finds enough energy to put your panties back in the drawer, locking it promptly.

The fleshlight, on the other hand, he leaves out after making space for it on his desk. He winces as it rolls and his sperm begins to drip out onto the glossy, chestnut tabletop. The comedown from is euphoria is like reaching a new low. He can’t even bear to look at the scene of his filthy indiscretion any longer.

But as he’s about to stand, the door swings open.

“Taiju?” you pout.

He scrambles to hide his exposed lower half under his desk and dump some of the papers littering his desk over the sticky fleshlight. He can’t hide the grimace on his face as the corner of one of his documents begin dampen from his cum.

“O-Oh, sorry, I forgot to knock… I should have knocked.”

“Yes, you should.” He says, gruffly, “What is it?”

You’re quiet, allowing your sock covered foot to glide across the wood flooring as you awkwardly look down at them. It’s not like you’re scared to talk to your brother, but you know he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s in here. And you don’t want to embarrass him.

“Answer.” his order startles you, his voice almost thunderous as he commands your attention. Your eyes fill with water, but you bat the tears away as you speak.

“I thought I heard you yelling. Or… in pain.” you tell him, voice below a whisper as you confess you’ve been unintentionally listening. “I thought you might have hurt yourself.”

Pink dusts over his face, you can even see it from only the light of the monitor. He looks around, suspiciously, though you don’t notice or comment on it.

“Why were you listening to me? Can’t you sleep?” he wonders. “… Don’t worry. I’m fine.” he assures you.

“I was worried. A-About earlier. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me… I promise I haven’t got a boyfriend and I’ll never bring anyone here without permission again.”

He smirks at that, all of his teeth bared and you still don’t understand what kind of sick depraved man your big brother really is. Maybe you aren’t as ungrateful or disrespectful as he thought; it was wrong of him to even assume that when you’ve been nothing but a doll the whole time he’s known you.

You poor thing.

You’ve been fretting over your brother’s wellbeing and state of mind since he sent you to bed so long ago. He’s been on your mind this whole time. You’re more like your big brother than you even realise, he thinks.

You’re so timid.

So obedient.

So good.

“You must be so tired, princess…” he coos, and you nod dumbly. He tuts, feeling sorry for your innocent nature and naivety, but sweet little you thinks he’s sympathetic to your exhaustion. “Do you want me to help you sleep? Shall I play with your hair like I used to when we were younger?”

“Really?” you ask, eyes lighting up at the proposition.

“Of course,” he nods, grinning wildly. “What are big brothers for?”

#🦋 — luxe writes #taiju smut #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju shiba smut #shiba taiju smut #taiju shiba #shiba taiju #taiju shiba x you #taiju shiba x y/n #tokyorev x fem!reader #tw jealousy #tw possessiveness #tw codependency #tw stepcest

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 days ago

Note

Your ask made me remember the request I was going to send it to you but forgot

hard to pick one to ask out of my drafts (very tempted to ask a PriceGhost omegaverse thought) BUT I decided to go with this cliché ask:

During a mission it snowed in, trapping Price and Nikolai in the safehouse, maybe one of them is experiencing hypothermia and needed to be warm up...in one way or another ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) you can decide if they go 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 or not!! I'll eat up anything you write either way

love yo stuff, stay hydrated! also manifesting max grains and zero pain for ya gym days 💪

Nik has to save Price from hypothermia, but with their bodies pressed so close, they can't resist each other.

cw: omegaverse, alpha Nik, omega Price, dubious consent in the sense Price is embarrassed by his body's reaction, clearly has some trauma, and it's kinda a stressful situation, and Nik gentles him? But they're into each other. Uncertain/open ending as Price clearly has a lot to work through. Sorry, Gomz, this got a whole 7k away from me...

The snow had come in so quickly. That was the problem with operating this far north; the weather was unpredictable, and when it turned it took no prisoners. Nik had managed to get them to an old house he knew about just on the outskirts of a small town. One of many old estates once owned by a soviet officer, its wine cellar, opulent decorations, and sprawling grounds all that remained of the bloated symbol of hypocrisy. It had long since been abandoned by the locals; too much trouble to repair, and everything of immediate value had been gutted.

While Nik had tried to get one of the old radios they found to work, John had been shovelling snow around the generators in an effort to get close enough to crank them up, but the storm had eventually defeated him and driven him back inside. Not even the legendary Bravo Six could overcome nature when she dug her heels in.

Nik wasn't immediately worried when John stepped into the study where they'd set up a temporary camp, shaking the snow from his carrier vest and coat like a dog clearing its fur. He was walking normally, placing his rifle down against the wall as he shut out the howling wind. Nik had loaded a fire in the hearth and found a heap of animal furs and blankets in one of the bedrooms upstairs to supplement their sleeping bags, so the room was warm enough to shed their coats and hang them to dry. He sat hunched over the desk by the window, one side of the headset pressed to his ear as he adjusted the antennae.

The radio whirred and buzzed, but there was too much interference from the storm and all he could coax out of it was white noise and whining. "There is only static," Nik said. "It is working, but we will only get a communication through when the snow eases. For now, we must wait."

"Thas'good," John said, and then proceeded to knock into a dusty coffee table, his boots clumping heavily as he tried to steady himself.

Nik paused, his hand stilling on the dials. "Captain?" He looked over his shoulder, picking John's shape out in the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light created by the fire. A sharp contrast to the almost radioactive yellow of the dials. He could see John slouched over by the door, his hand against the wall.

"Nik, I fink... Fink 'm..."

Nik abandoned the radio in the next breath and was there to catch John when he staggered, his body falling heavily into Nik's arms. There was no mistaking the signs of hypothermia; John looked confused, his eyes dilated, and when Nik yanked his glove off with his teeth and shoved his hand just on the inside of John's collar where he should be warm and dry, his skin was cold and clammy.

"Nik, 'm... S'somethin'..."

Nik dragged John towards the fire, his boots scuffing on the old wood panel floor as he struggled to find his footing. John's clothes were wet, inside and out; a combination of relentless snow melting through and the sweat from exertion meant that much of his gear's insulation had been rendered useless. Exposed for too long in adverse conditions, even the most expensive military kit couldn't keep up.

Nik peeled John out of them, tearing off velcro and unclipping buckles, swift and efficient. His palms passed over pale skin spotted with freckles, blue in some places where it should be flushed and pink. Despite its pallor, John's body was truly beautiful; strong and athletic, with its defined musculature dusted by downy body hair. If the situation wasn't so desperate, Nik might have lingered to admire every new inch he revealed. He had fantasised about it long enough in private moments, his eyes closed and his hand inside his underwear.

John tried to help. Even dazed and shivering, he knew what was wrong. Knew what the process was. But his clumsy hands only slowed Nik down, numb fingers unable to grip or feel their way over the fastenings. "Let me. I have you," Nik said gently, pushing John's hands away from his belt. He was naked for barely a handful of seconds before Nik was wrapping him in a sleeping bag, laying him down on top of the pile of furs before the fire.

There were warm packs in their Bergens and Nik cracked a few of these as he kicked off his own clothes. Sleeping bags needed actual body heat to work well, and that was something John was lacking; on their own, the heat packs wouldn't work quickly enough. This wasn't how Nik had wanted to hold John for the first time, not what he had dreamed about in those quiet hours before dawn, his hand clutched around his knot, but he didn't have time to lament fate.

Nik shivered as he grabbed the last of the blankets, a little musty, but a maid had clearly laundered them before storing them away for the final time. He draped them over in layers before sliding into the sleeping bag at John's back, large arms encircling his quivering chest and drawing him close, John's freezing body fully ensconced in life-saving warmth.

Only in the stillness that followed did Nik realise his own heart was hammering in his chest, his ears muffled by the pulse of his blood as he allowed himself the momentary grace to feel fear. What if John had stayed out only five minutes longer and collapsed in the snow? What if Nik had searched for him, his body already covered over, and hadn't found him until the morning? Frozen solid, his beautiful eyes empty of life. It could have happened. Fate had been close to stealing John away. Too close.

John's laboured panting evened out and Nik felt his body go slack as he slipped in and out of unconsciousness. It was fine, as long as he was warming, breathing, his body relaxing out of its tense alarm, then Nik could stop his useless panicking.

Nik swallowed, tilting his nose down into John's hair to inhale a lungful of him, seeking comfort from the soft scent of a mature, fertile omega; a guilty pleasure, but one he allowed himself to calm his fear.

He had never been this close to John. Brief embraces, shoulder to shoulder in the back of a Hercules, sharing a drink and whispering conspiratorially in a bar, passing a cigar back and forth in the back of Nik's Black Hawk. So many intimate moments where Nik had fallen slowly, irrevocably in love with this fierce, bad-tempered, feral man with scruffy facial hair and cunningly intelligent blue eyes. But none like this. None where he could taste John's musky, soft smell in the back of his throat, feel the pulse of his heart as if it were beating under his own skin.

Nik knew he was torturing himself. John’s scent curled through him like rich cigar smoke in an expensive bar, winding down his spine until it coiled in his belly and stoked at his instincts. Nik was so very aware of the firm line of John's body in his arms; the plush curves of his full arse, the strong muscles of his thighs and the quiet strength boasted by his broad shoulders. How soft and inviting his body hair was, how kissable the freckles, scars and moles across his skin, like constellations mapping a lifetime over John's body. The thought of spreading John's legs, sinking into his tight heat and making that gravelly voice break with pleasure was driving him insane.

"Blyat..." Nik muttered, the heat coiling in his hips, his cock twitching. Nik flattened his palm against John's chest and felt the strong, valiant thrum of his heart, defiant in the face of the cold. He used it to ground himself. He had to stay calm. For John's sake. While Nik could forgive his body its natural urges around such a handsome omega, he could not forgive any loss of control because of them.

Nik stayed vigilant as the minutes ticked into hours. He tried to remember his training about the different levels of hypothermia and their recovery times, but all his damn mind could latch onto was the scent and feel of the omega in his arms. Nik ached in a way he never had before; a deep, humming discontent at his very core. It was a combination of desire and terror; the cold had nearly snatched John away, and now here he was, so close, so vulnerable, and yet he had never been so off limits. Nik burned with need and it mocked him.

Nik held John a little tighter and closed his eyes. As long as he could feel the slow rise and fall of John's chest, feel the flutter of his breath over his bicep, he knew John was still… here. Alive, and safe. If Nik stayed still, taking each minute as it came, he would not slip. Not allow himself to indulge in his weakness.

Nik must have dozed off to the lullaby of John's heartbeat, his face tucked into his hair, because seemingly in the next moment John was writhing in his arms, his arse bumping back against the hard length of Nik's cock, which had only stiffened further as Nik had grounded himself in the strength of John's body. A poor method of quietening his libido, as it turned out, with John's scent now fogging every breath, melting into his hot skin like settling snow.

Nik loosened his embrace a little and John rolled over, the cold tip of his nose pressing between the mounds of Nik's tits. Nik felt the bristles of John's beard and then the soft vibration of a contented hum, followed by the softest roll of a pleased purr; the noise of a receptive omega looking to mate. It gripped in Nik’s chest like a closing fist and he drew in a stuttering breath. Nik stroked a palm down the curve of John's spine to settle at the small of his back, and John's hips pushed forward, teasing himself against the thick bulge in Nik's boxers. Nik did nothing to stop him, paralysed by the noise he never thought he'd hear John make.

One of those strong legs lifted to drape over Nik's hip, drawing him closer until Nik could feel John's wet slit dampening the cotton over his cock. John was reacting favourably to his scent, judging him worthy as he flexed against his strength, instinctually reaching for him. Nik's entire body ached with desire and sordid lust, his teeth on edge, as the man he yearned for offered himself up in a poisoned chalice. To take advantage now would be beyond redemption.

"John?" Nik croaked.

John's lashes fluttered against Nik's skin and he pulled back a little, a stitch between his brows. "Nik, I..."

"How do you feel?" Nik bit out, intimately aware that he could feel the throbbing heat between John's legs pressed against the length of his cock.

John's cheeks reddened and Nik felt his weathered hands press to his chest. "Fine... Good, I... Sorry, 'm... I didn' mean..."

"Is ok," Nik said softly. "It is warm. Your body is reacting naturally."

John swallowed and Nik felt a deep breath shudder the length of his back. Noticeably, John didn't draw his hips away; he tensed and then relaxed, like he was fighting an internal battle, his body warming further in Nik's arms as his hips squirmed, rubbing the swollen bud of his cock against Nik's with a soft gasp of surprised pleasure. His skin was warm, flushed, the first beads of sweat gathering across his shoulder blades, slick between their bellies and chests. The miasma of pheromones and arousal made Nik dizzy, and beneath it he could smell the telltale sweetness of heat.

John wasn't due, he knew that much. The captain organised his heats fastidiously. His body had been thrown off kilter by the cold, perhaps, or even the proximity and availability of someone his subconscious deemed a worthy mate to protect it while vulnerable; a virile, strong alpha. The thought that John's primal self would offer him for mating, assured that Nik would be strong enough to protect him while he recovered, and the resulting pups from their union, stirred something feral and possessive in Nik's gut. He pushed it down, shoulders bunching.

John growled low in his throat, flashing his sharp canines, his fists bunching against Nik's chest, perhaps sensing the shift in Nik body. "Don't know wos fuckin' wrong with me," he snarled, and Nik felt the graze of those teeth against his clavicle.

Nik knew John fought his biology. He chafed at it, saw it as a failing. Nik could only imagine what had been done to him in the past to make him feel that way. Like any omega, John was more than capable of tearing him to pieces if he felt threatened, but there was something so rawly vulnerable about John now as he clenched and growled, fighting something that he should view as a nuisance more than a crippling inadequacy.

"Nothing," Nik said. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are... velikolepnyy."

"Fuck, Nik..." John's fingers splayed over his chest again, the cool tip of his nose warming in the hollow of Nik's throat. "Haa, hnn, I think.. ahh, I think ‘m..."

"Da, I can... smell it in your sweat."

"Fuck, fuck..." John snarled, letting out another soft gasp as his body cramped for the first time.

"It is ok. You are safe. We can manage it until help arrives."

John shoved his face into Nik's chest and groaned, pained. “Yer so fuckin’ hard, Nik.”

Nik swallowed. That didn't sound like anger or disgust. But desperation and desire. “Da, you… smell very good,” Nik said, somewhat lamely. “It is ok. I can… I am in control.”

“Oh, fu–” John tensed in Nik’s arms, and Nik heard his jaw creak as he clenched his teeth through another spasm of discomfort. “Need t’ get out of here or I won't be… ha-ah.”

“Nyet, you… John, you must stay in the warm.’

“All the bloody blankets smell of you. S’only gonna… get worse. Fuck, why fuckin’... now?”

Nik swallowed and slid a hand from John's back to his hip. “A panic response. You were in danger–this is not your fault.”

John said nothing. He faded into silence, his body wound tight in Nik’s arms. His previously calm, deep breaths that had inhaled lungfuls of Nik’s scent, soothing his heat into a deeper lull, now hitched in short, sharp pants, trying to avoid the lure of comfort and surrender. Nik wished they were home, in John's bed, or even the snug bunk he used in his office when he couldn't be bothered to drive back to his flat. At least there, surrounded by familiarity, John might have felt safe enough to tentatively explore the desire sinking its hooks in.

But then, Nik thought with only a hint of bitterness, it was the sheer desperation of the environment around them that had panicked his body enough to shake up the clock. Without it, John would have always remained in absolute control of himself to the point of guarded repression. He would have never fallen into Nik's embrace.

“God, fuck,” John growled, his body rigid, like if he moved even an inch he might lose some invisible battle. Ground lost to an encroaching enemy. Nik wished he could roll him into his back and scent him until he relaxed. Every instinct sparking in his brain roared with distress at the discomfort of the omega in his arms, demanding he do something, anything. He laid there uselessly, as frozen as the fish in the ponds outside, caught in the storm of competing needs; to satiate John, and to respect him. It hurt that the two things were in opposition when they should be one and the same.

John shifted, his broad shoulders rolling a little, his head tilting back. Nik could practically hear the cogs whirring in John's mind. When he finally lifted his chin far enough for their eyes to meet, John's were red and watery from stress, pupils dilated. Nik could see a deep sadness, a kind of resignation; bright blue dampened to a faded grey. “I, uh… would ya help me, Nik?”

Nik’s mouth opened and closed, each breath drawing more of John’s deep, saccharine scent to the back of his tongue. His body was tense in Nik’s arms still, occasionally shuddering as another muscle spasm worked its way through his core, a grunt snorting through his nose as he swallowed down his groan of pain. Nik couldn't find his words. “I…”

“C’mon, know you want it, can feel ya between my legs,” John said, huffing softly with amusement, face crinkling in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Would jus’ be, mm… quick, y’know? So they don't find me in a state. I'd make it up t’ ya, on my word.”

“You would offer me something I have wanted for years as if it is a burden,” Nik said, trying to keep the edge of sadness from his voice but failing rather miserably. “This is not how I… hoped it to be.”

John swallowed, his eyes dropped, expression hazy. It wasn't how Nik had hoped his confession would be either. He had pictured an expensive dinner, perhaps a trip to Duxford so he could look at the planes and John could look at the tanks, and then Nik would have told him as they strolled through the countryside towards a pint, wrapped in scarves and heavy coats. Warm, safe. Comfortable in each other’s presence as they had always been. Like this, John would feel under duress, vulnerable and like he needed to be on the defence.

Another shudder, another pant of breath, the soft gasp not quite bitten back in time. “Please, Nik… can’t let them see me like this, I… I'll be good.. ahh, for ya. No funny business.”

“Funny business?”

“Yeah, not gonna bite, or… mm, won't… won't fight ya.”

“John…” Nik said, his chest pulling tight; his teeth ached at the back of his mouth and a miserable knot formed in his throat. “I am not a rapist.”

“I know, I know… Nik, 'm… ahh, ‘m not thinkin’, didn't mean it like that, I…” John's face dropped to Nik's chest for a moment as he gathered himself. “Jus’... Don't bite me, don't mark me, no’... no’ ready. I… no’ like this.”

“I promise I won't,” Nik said. It hurt that John couldn't meet his eyes. Someone had hurt him badly in the past. Nik had always assumed as such, but that was all the confirmation he needed. The harm was so deep, still raw, that John couldn't even trust a man that had served him loyally for so many years.

Nik lifted the hand from John's hip and cupped the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. Those blue eyes flickered and John tilted into his palm, the softest purr breaking through the tightness of his jaw, so low, like a glass marble rolling across an old oak table. Nik couldn't be sure John wasn't forcing it for his benefit, but it had the desired effect either way; the alpha part of his biology ruffled happily, and he responded with a soft chuff, pressing his lips to John's forehead. "Ya tebya obozhayu."

Nik couldn't resist any longer. If he was gentle, if he took his time, then that apprehension he could see in John's eyes, the tense fear rigid down his back, would melt away. John was watching him, sad blue eyes glistening, part in shame, part in barely disguised fear, and Nik wanted to hold him until all he felt was comfort and pleasure.

Their first kiss was tentative, as tender as Nik could be as his hands shook. John's mouth yielded to his tongue, soft, chapped lips parting with a low moan as John's body arched against his once again. Nik slid his palm beneath John’s thigh to lift it further over his hip, grinding his hard cock against the wet heat between his legs, slow and leisurely. Even the soft material of his boxers would begin to feel coarse against John's heat sensitive skin, so they needed to go.

When Nik pulled away, he sucked gently on John's lower lip, before pressing another kiss to his forehead creased with tense lines. He wriggled away enough to shove his boxers off his hips and down his thighs until they passed his knees. When John pressed back against him, soft skin of his inner thigh sliding over the outside of Nik's, Nik's cock head slid through his wet folds, bumping up against the swell of his cock.

“Oh fuck, Nik… yer so fuckin’ thick…” John bit out, grinding himself against the underside of Nik's cock, slick and precum making filthy, wet noises as John groaned into Nik's chest, hands clutching at the meat of Nik's body as he took his pleasure. Nik let him, mouth hanging open, the soft, wet slit of John’s cunt hot and perfect around the underside of his shaft.

He cupped John's arse with one hand, spreading it open a little so his fingers could dip towards the fluttering muscles of John's holes. The softest brush of his fingertips appeared to be enough because John’s moans hit a peak after only two passes, his body seizing, pushing hard against Nik's cock. “Oh, fuck, Nik, Nik… ha-ah.”

John tucked his face away as if ashamed at his eagerness, pressing his nose into the centre of Nik's chest as his orgasm rattled through him. He was on a hair trigger, sensitivity heightened, receptive to a potential mate’s touch. The thought made something warm and heavy curl in Nik’s belly, and he allowed himself a fleeting moment of excitement. Nik nuzzled a kiss in his hair and chuffed softly, stroking his hands up and down John's back before lifting John higher against him, his cock flicking free of the press of John's body.

It was awkward like this, wrapped tightly in the blankets with John half draped over him, and Nik didn't want to risk rolling on top of John and panicking him. There was a risk instinct would overcome reason in the haze of heat and John's fear, and those sharp teeth would rip through his jugular in seconds. Perhaps later, when he had realised Nik wasn't about to hurt him, Nik would drape over his back and appease the deep need in his gut to blanket his omega as they mated, to fully encompass his powerful body as it presented and guard it with his own. Instead, Nik reached beneath John's thigh, hitching it a little higher, to steady his cock just long enough to sink the head inside.

John gasped, his back arching, his walls still tingling from his orgasm bore down, spasming in renewed pleasure as Nik slowly thrust inside. He couldn't quite get fully seated, not at this angle, but it was enough. His eyes flickered shut at the sweet, soft heat sucking around his shaft as he drew back, thrusting back in with a slow roll of the hips, feeling John press against him with a strangled grunt of shock.

“John…” Nik kept hold of John’s thigh but the other hand slid up his back into his hair, urging his face away from where it had buried against his chest. His eyes were red-rimmed, dull, and there was a crease of concentration doen his face. Nik's heart ached. “I am sorry… you are… tight.”

“S’ok,” John croaked. “Don' be, s’fine, feels good… please, move… ‘m–haa.”

Nik kissed him gently on the lips, no more than a brief brush, before rolling to ease him on top. As John slid down Nik's full length, his knees splaying over the blankets, he choked out a soft gasp. “Nik, fuck, so much… haa, mmm, n-no, give me a moment, need a moment…”

John was so tight, bearing down on the thick girth pressing him open, resisting, anxious. Nik had a slight height advantage, and he used it to press gentle kisses to John's face; over his brow, against a flushed cheek and the creases at the corners of his eyes. He chuffed, stroking warm palms up and down John's broad back as it flexed and quivered.

With each caress, John relaxed, sinking down against the plush warmth of Nik's body; the give of his belly, the cushion of his chest, the downy black hair of his torso that trapped the scent of his sweat and pheromones, rubbing both into John's skin.

John tucked his nose beneath Nik's chin and purred, rough and craggy, like someone had rubbed sandpaper down his throat. Not the silky trill of a young omega, but the worn, tired purr of a mature one that has torn his way through life with his bare hands, snarling and growling, so used to roaring with fury that gentler noises were unwieldy. And yet, it was the most beautiful sound Nik had ever heard.

Nik responded with soft huffs and murmurs of his own, hands sliding down to John's thighs as he slowly rocked his hips up, dragging his thick cock out until only his crown stayed notched inside, the slick dripping down his shaft, soaking his balls, further assurance that John was finding pleasure in their mating. When John tilted his head and started to lick at Nik’s chin and neck, his tongue rasping over Nik’s stubble in long, indulgent laps, Nik tilted his back to submit himself to his omega’s affectionate grooming. I trust you, please trust me.

His. His omega. John was his. Handsome, fierce, strong. Every inch of him wrapped in corded muscle, with a soft layer over his belly and tits, his slim waist and the dip of his back perfectly shaped for Nik’s hands, the firm curves of his arse and thighs, built for explosive strength, agility, for riding an alpha’s cock and taking their pleasure. If only someone had nurtured John's confidence rather than destroy it.

Nik pushed his heels and upper back into the floor, and bounced John’s hips against his, fucking him down onto his cock with increasing pace.

“Oh, Nik, Nik… mmm, yeah, tha’--ah, ah, fuck,” John panted, breath hot against the wetness he had left on the underside of Nik's chin.

“You are perfect, John. Tell me, tell me what… mm, tell me what you want…”

“Ahh, ahh, I nee’, ah, Nik, yeah…”

“That's it, solnyshko, take what you… ahh, take what you need. I am yours.”

Nik could feel John taking agency, tentatively, his hips moving without guidance. He slid his hands down the back of John's thighs and held him behind the knees, giving him something to brace against as he began to grind and roll with increasing urgency, chasing the pleasure coiling in his hips, tensing in his thighs and his lower back.

“Ahh, yer… ahh, yer gettin’ harder… feel, ahh, feel bigger, mm… ahh, yer knot, fuck!”

Nik's knot was beginning to swell, popping in and out of John's hole, gaping him wide with each pass. His back arched, hips thrusting up to meet John, a firm platform for him to slam himself down and grind against. Under the cover of the blanket, the sweat eased the glide of their bodies together, intensifying the scent of heat and arousal in Nik's nostrils. His balls pulled tight as John's desperate noises, broken and gravelly, hit a new, urgent note, and his knot swelled, grinding into John's hole until it locked them together.

Nik released John's shaking legs as his body responded with a deep, overwhelming orgasm that milked Nik’s knot, and Nik grabbed John's face, arching him back to lick the sweat up the curve of his throat. So close to his scent glands, it was saturated in heat pheromones and Nik sucked desperately at the soft, vulnerable skin just above the hollow of his throat as his prick filled John with his seed.

Those strong thighs clamped around his hips, shuddering and weak from exertion, and Nik whispered gentle praise until John went limp against him, melting into the cradle of Nik's body and relaxing around the bulge of his knot.

Nik had never felt satisfaction like it. A soft, comfortable calm settled deep in his bones. His omega smelled satiated, content, the heave of his shoulders calming as his heart settled into an even rhythm. Neither of them spoke. Nik thought perhaps they were both listening to each other's bodies. Nik could feel John's heartbeat; against his chest, wrapped around his cock. Defiant, strong. And Nik wondered whether John could feel his, beating deep inside him, whether it made him feel content, whether the intimacy made him feel as content as it did Nik. Nik kissed John's neck and received a soft rumble in response.

They dozed. Nik's knot went down and he eased John into the softness of the blankets, kissing his chest, his throat, his mouth. Desperate to taste him, to please and comfort him. He was sucking a pebbled nipple when John tugged at him again, gladly spreading his legs for Nik to climb between them. Nik gathered John's hands and pressed them above his head, their fingers wound together, and watched his eyes, kissed his lips, made love to him as gently as he could.

Muscular thighs spread wide as Nik ground deep inside John's eager cunt, alternating between agile rolls and circles of his hips and deeper thrusts that let John feel the heavy balls ready to breed him. The second knot was as intense as the first, and Nik fucked his spend deep into John's body, his tongue in his mouth, their lips locked together. John pushed himself up into it, legs wide in wanton and beautiful submission.

The ebb and flow of John's heat stretched through the night, the storm howling relentlessly outside. They slept between bouts of sex, with John curled into the safety of Nik's arms. After his first turn on top, he was too weak to take the lead again; drained by his brush with the cold, exhausted by the anxiety of an unplanned heat, he relaxed into Nik's care because he had little choice. Nik cradled him, kept them wrapped in the blankets, now rich with the miasma of their mating, their bodies slick and pliant. Every time John demanded, Nik provided.

When he left the impromptu nest - for that is what it had become, soaked in the scent of their mating - it was only to check the radio, feed the fire and arrange John's clothes before it to dry. Each time he returned, John curled back into his embrace with a contented purr, drawing Nik back between his legs.

As dawn creeped closer, John's scent changed, so full of Nik now that he was ready to be claimed. John rolled onto his front, too exhausted to fight his natural desires, and tilted his hips up. Nik writhed between the blankets to taste between his legs, warm tongue lapping slowly over John's puffy, sore cunt, so sensitive and wet, giving into his own instincts to taste the fertility and readiness of his omega.

It was dizzying, intoxicating; Nik pressed his tongue inside and felt John squeeze around him, heard him sigh softly in pleasure, and ground his hard cock against the furs in excitement. He had done this. He had satisfied this strong, indomitable omega to the point he would relax, present, accept a deep and thorough breeding. Nik had been deemed worthy once again.

Nik licked John until his jaw ached, his face soaked in slick, reaching to play with John's engorged cock, squeezing and rubbing until John’s hips were rocking, his moans low and filthy. Eventually, John squirmed, a softer orgasm making his walls flutter in search of a knot as his fingers snagged in the furs. His heat would break in the next few hours; this was their final coupling.

Nik draped over his back, up on his hands and toes with John's hips tilted up. John swallowed him so easily, snug heat sucking Nik’s cock down until Nik’s heavy balls were flush to his body. Nik groaned, the silky soft wetness somehow more divine than it had been the first time, and John echoed him, pressing back, demanding his alpha.

“Nik…”

It was the first word John had said in hours. He had been mostly moans, gasps and growls, completely delirious. That was it, wasn't it? The tension, the resistance, it had melted away, John wanted him, wanted to feel his knot, to take his seed.

“Da, solnyshko. I am here…”

John twisted, arching back, and they kissed, John licking into Nik's mouth. No hiding his face, no delirious submission, but seeking affection as Nik slowly rocked into him. Nik's chest ached in a different way; relief, love, a deep need to protect, to serve his omega's every whim. The soft noises John made through their kiss as Nik dragged every inch of his prick in and out of his body made Nik want to stay there forever, trapped in this moment of bliss. So in tune with John, their heartbeats in tandem, bodies joined as one.

When John broke the kiss, he turned to press his chest into the furs and lift into Nik's thrusts. “Breed me proper, Nik… fuck, I need it… need yer knot, mmm, please, please… harder, wanna feel ya in my damn womb.”

Nik's nostrils flared, his lips rolling back to show his teeth. He dropped to his elbows and tucked his arms beneath John's chest, pressing his own into the sweaty plain of John's back, and began to rut into him harder, faster. The blankets fell away with the pace of Nik's movements, but the fire was stacked high, the room warm enough that it didn't matter. John moaned and gasped, slick hole bearing down on the relentless pump of Nik’s prick into it, hands kneading at the furs.

It was instinctual to lean down and mouth the gland at John's neck, rolling it between his teeth, the sweet taste of unmated omega soaking his tongue. John moaned, more slick dripping down his thighs, his mind unthinking in a soft haze of instinct and heat. He didn't resist, didn't fight.

It would be so easy to claim him at that moment. They would be bonded for life. This beautiful omega would be Nik's and Nik’s alone. Every heat, his body would call for Nik, and Nik’s rut would answer. The intensity of their mating would leave them both sated, and Nik would have a lifetime to show John how much he deserved to be loved. Perhaps even a pup or two, with John's beautiful blue eyes and round cheeks and lopsided smile–

Nik moaned, teeth tightening, as his hips pistoned harder, cock throbbing, so close to release. John's body was so open, so wet, the noises filling the room alongside their moans completely obscene. The filthy pleasure of it roiled in Nik's gut, the thought of pumping another load deep inside his omega, of it quickening as his teeth rended through freckled skin to claim what was already his by fucking birth right, and John had said no, but what if–

He growled low in his chest and forced his jaw apart, pressing his open mouth to John's shoulder, as his knot popped and his balls emptied in powerful pulses.

He didn't bite down.

Wouldn't.

Couldn't.

John had said no and Nik's love for the man was greater than his desire for the omega, even in the heat of the moment. A well of self disgust formed in Nik's chest as he pressed his face to John's back, the fevered, possessive internal rant fading into an echo in the back of his mind.

John moaned and flopped into the furs, his hips shifting only with the occasional stutter of Nik's as he ground his spend as deep as he could. Nik relaxed some of his weight onto John's back and felt him vibrate with the depth of his contentment; a low, croaky purr, only stoked a little louder when Nik lapped at the sweat on his neck, his biceps, and nuzzled into his hair and beard. “Am I too heavy?” he asked, his voice soft beneath the crackle and pop of the fire.

“Naw, feels like yer crushin’ my soul back into my body,” John murmured, his muscles squeezing a little around the swell of Nik's knot. “Feels… good.”

Safe, Nik thought.

The way John was relaxing into the furs, his scent sweet and doughy, blue eyes drooping closed. Nik continued to groom him while they were knotted, licking at the rough at the edge of his grey-speckled beard, nipping his ears and kissing the slopes of his shoulders.

When Nik’s knot faded, he sat back on his heels and watched his cock pull free of John's body with a filthy little slurp. He pressed his thumbs into John's thighs to spread them, admiring the glisten of slick and cum dripping out of John's used hole. Something primal wanted to push it all back in, to make sure not a single drop was wasted. With John so relaxed, Nik gave in to the desire. When Nik slid two fingers in slowly, watching John's soft cunt swallow them so easily, he groaned. It was enough to make his cock twitch with interest again, despite the ache in his lower back and thighs.

“Nik…” John whispered, his hips lifting. “‘m knackered, c’mon… oh, fuck.”

“You are just so perfect… krasivyy. I want to make you feel good. Just once more.” Nik slid his other hand beneath John's body, two fingers rubbing back and forth over the lovely swell of his eager cock, matching the pace of the two thrusting into his cunt.

“Oh, ah, Nik… it's… too much, ‘m too… ah.”

Nik curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot that made John's back arch, and it was so breathtaking the way his muscles bunched, rolling beneath sweat slick-skin, following each pulse of pleasure as it passed up his spine. John's knees spread out, agile hips grinding his cock against the rough pads of Nik's fingers. Even exhausted, wrung out, John’s body sang like a finely tuned instrument under Nik's touch. Like they were meant to be, even without the chemical bond of a mating mark.

John came with a broken moan, his thighs shaking as his cunt clenched around Nik's fingers, slick and cum soaking Nik's palms. The alpha in Nik rumbled with pride and he pulled his hands away to watch John flop, powerful body twitching in the aftershocks.

Nik drew the blankets over their backs and bedded down at John's side, pressing his lips to the back of John's shoulder. In the soft afterglow of their mating, Nik made the silent promise to wait as long as it took for John to be ready. Even if their bonding was his final act as he drew his last breath.

Nik woke some hours later to a crackling voice through the radio. This is Bravo 7. Come in, Yankee 7. He dragged himself out from beneath the blankets and stumbled over to the headset. “This is Yankee 7. It is… good to hear your voice, Lieutenant.”

Copy. And yours. Sitrep?

“We are secure. The captain requires… medical assistance, but it is non-urgent. Hypothermic but stabilised.”

Roger. Location? Over.

“Figures,” Nik yanked his notepad towards him and read out the coordinates.

Rog. Hostiles? Over.

“Just the storm.”

ETA two hours. Sit tight. Out.

Pulling John from the nest felt cruel. Omegas needed time to recover from a heat, and prepare for the next stage. A stage that John would not get to experience, Nik realised, with no small pang of disappointment. They had little time to talk, focusing on packing up camp and covering evidence of their presence.

John's clothes were rough where they had dried before the fire, and Nik held him as he climbed awkwardly back into them. By the time they were making their way towards the drumming blades of a helicopter, Nik's arms around John's back to help him across the uneven ground, they smelled more of woodsmoke and musty damp than sex.

Ghost’s eyes lingered on John when he snapped at the attempt to help him into the Heli. A recently mated omega was aggressive to any alpha that wasn't theirs, and the lieutenant knew something existed between his captain and the pilot that arrived to snatch him from frying pans and fires across the world. Nik dipped his chin once when Ghost glanced at him, and that was enough for the lieutenant.

They gave John his space on the flight home, listening to him growl over the Comms, updating Laswell and Mac on the relative success of the mission. They had secured the intel they needed, even if the storm had nearly scuppered them.

Rog. Ye broken?

“Naw, caught a cold, nuffin’ a rest won't fix.”

Copy. See ye when ye land. Oout.

Nik watched John chuck the radio down and drop his face into his hands, and had to grip his own knees hard to stop from moving over to comfort him. All he felt for the entire journey was a burning desire to blanket and scent the love of his life until he could sleep peacefully. John dozed fitfully the rest of the way, startling awake where he felt unsafe, unguarded.

The base nurses kept him in for a night for monitoring after Nik had accurately relayed John's symptoms, omitting the heat when John had cast him a stern look. So it wasn't until the next day that Nik had a chance to speak to him without prying eyes and ears encroaching on their privacy. Nik caught him just as he was heading into his office.

“John.” Nik felt a stab of pain as John’s shoulders lifted with tension. He couldn't help but reach for him, fingertips stroking the inside of his elbow.

“You olrigh’, Nik?”

“Da,” Nik said, his hand dropping away under John's scrutiny. “Did… did they clear you?”

“Yeah, they said… uh, ya saved my life. Again. Quick thinkin'.”

Nik swallowed, his palm pressing to the door by John's head, desperate to touch him. “And yet, you cannot look at me.”

John’s breath hitched. “I, uh… what you saw… I had no right t’ demand that of ya, Nik. I was arrogant t' think I didn't need spare suppressants for a quick jaunt. Fuckin' irresponsible. Won't 'appen again.”

“You demanded nothing I was not willing to give.”

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say. John drew in a stuttering breath and tilted his head away, like Nik's scent, even dull beneath shower gel and cologne, was too much. “Yeah, I… thanks fer no’ bitin’ me. I woulda let ya… at the end.”

Nik felt a prickling at the backs of his eyes, a tight knot in his throat. “I do not wish to be thanked for common decency.”

John huffed. It was a sad, resigned noise from deep inside his chest. “Not as common as ya think, mate. Listen, I need time t’ process… come back tomorra?”

“John, I…”

“I need bloody space, Nik,” John snapped, and Nik heard an edge in his voice usually reserved for people stupid enough to try clawing their way under John's skin. “Tomorra, olrigh’?”

Nik blinked quickly, drawing back and inhaling a deep breath. It only served to carry the scent of distressed omega to the back of his tongue, and he wanted nothing more than to curl around John until he smelled just as content as he had in their makeshift nest. “Da. Tomorrow then.”

John pushed down the handle beneath his hand and disappeared inside his office, leaving Nik in the corridor to stare forlornly at the door.

He would wait, he reminded himself. Wait for John to be ready. Even if it took ‘til his dying breath. Nik placed his palm gently on the door before he departed, heading for the familiar comfort of his Black Hawk and her myriad of mechanical issues to occupy his mind.

If Nik had pushed the boundary, he would have found John Price, Captain, peerless leader of the 141, the indomitable Bravo Six, curled up on the floor on the other side of the door, his face buried in his knees as the tears fell and his shoulders shook. He had said he needed space to process, but the truth was, he had no idea where to even start.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #prikolai #omegaverse #spicy

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hometoursandotherstuff · 5 months ago

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This lovely 1928 Spanish villa in New Castle, IN looks in need of repair on the exterior, but the interior is beautiful. 5bds, 4ba, $779k.

Isn't this amazing? It's bringing the outdoors in, b/c it looks like a outside courtyard.

This is so beautiful, I wonder if they would leave the big plants. Look at the stairs and balcony. Love the arches, too. And, look at the wood & lattice leaded glass doorway on the left. The architecture is wonderful.

The ceiling is glass, so to block out too much sun and give it a real outdoorsy look, they've installed a canvas canopy with delightful yellow & white stripes.

The wood doorway opens to this living room with a fireplace and tall ceiling with wood beams.

The fireplace is stunning.

Very large dining room- it has 2 tables. The room has a lovely wall of wood accents and a matching wood ceiling.

Here's a wrought iron rail that blocks a steep step. The home has so many pretty touches. The floors are typically terra cotta in color, but a fancier style.

The kitchen is smallish, but there's a double stove and lots of cabinets.

Part of it is galley style and it's unique. Look at the scrolled wood door.

The mezzanine is beautiful with it's railings and arches.

The bedrooms are all large, but this is the primary. Look at the crown light fixtures.

This bedroom has a pitched wooden ceiling with a built-in desk.

Cute vintage bath.

Upstairs sitting room.

A larger vintage bath. This house has wonderful bathrooms. I hope the new owner doesn't renovate them.

One of the smaller bedrooms is an average size.

Look at the tile in this bath.

They use this basement room for storage, but there's a great stone fireplace down here.

Wow, this is a large wine cellar. It could use a little decor.

And, there's also a workshop down here. Looks like kitchen cabinets. I wonder if there was kitchenette.

There's a very large brick patio with a privacy wall.

The property is 2.90 acres, so there's a lot of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/800-Hawthorn-Rd-New-Castle-IN-47362/85350243_zpid/

#spanish villas #spanish homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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beneathstarryskies · 11 months ago

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Summary: It's been centuries since Ganondorf's victory in bringing Hyrule to its knees. However, victory is lonelier than he'd anticipated. The once great Demon King is a shadow of his former self, drinking his way through the castle's wine cellars and mumbling to himself in the dark. That is until one brave stranger wanders through the castle gates, led by curiosity...Or perhaps fate.

Word Count: 5,002

Warnings: mentions of violence, depression, Ganondorf is a recluse, beauty and the beast AU, might be OOC but i don't care this idea wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it so here we are, overall it's pretty PG

Taglist: @emmacornell, @actuallysaiyan

In the remnants of a castle once grand but now desolate, Ganondorf wanders the halls alone. Some days he is focused on working his way through the wine cellar, but other days he mutters quietly as he wonders where it all had gone wrong. He’d achieved everything he wanted. He sits upon the throne of Hyrule, the entire realm under his control, yet as centuries pass the emptiness in his chest persists. Even the people of the realm stretching from the deserts of Gerudo to the flatlands of Akkala noticed the grip of the once fearsome ruler lessening. Only occasionally would he exert his dominance again, as though only to remind them he is still present. Even the darkness of his gloom seemed to fade from the landscape as life returned to normal for the people of the realm. Tales of the great demon king who once took over the kingdom are still passed from grandparents' mouths to the eager ears of children, but Ganondorf as they speak of him almost feels like fiction.

It was this sense of safety and curiosity that led you to Hyrule Fields. A thin layer of snow is falling on the landscape as you walk through the fields. Your eyes widen as you see the castle, and the now-empty town surrounding it. The walls are covered in a thick layer of ivy vines, now brown and barren from the cold air. You carefully walk forward, tiptoeing past the gloomy black and red sludge as you pass through the gates. As you explore the once great Castle Town, you remember the stories you’d been told as a child. The horrible stories of a great big demon who took the form of a horrible pig. Every little noise sent your mind into a frightened frenzy, and you were beginning to wonder if staying here much longer was worth indulging your long-held curiosity about the castle.

Ganondorf became aware of the intrusion when he wandered outside of the master bedroom onto the balcony. He looked down to see the tiny form of a Hyrulian woman poking around the old stalls in the market. Every so often he noticed her flinching and looking around as though frightened. Her attention soon turned to the wide doors of the castle. He recognized her intentions almost immediately, and he threw on a cloak to meet her at the door.

When you push open the double doors, you let out a squeak of surprise at the large figure looming at the bottom of the stairs. Long red hair falls in front of his face and glowing yellow eyes stare at you with malice as he growls.

“What are you doing here?” his voice, even as a whisper, echoes through the empty halls.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer as you try to back away. You trip over your own feet and fall backward. Just before you hit the ground, a large hand catches the front of your cloak. Suddenly, your feet are no longer on the ground. Ganondorf lifts you to force you to look into his eyes.

“I asked a question, little one,” he snarls. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you stammer as your hands instinctively come to his wrist, grabbing on in case he drops you. “I thought--”

“You thought the castle to be empty,” he finishes your thought. “Perhaps I have been too kind to your people, allowing them to live too comfortably. My existence having been relegated to folklore and legend, is that it?”

“No!” you cry out, the thought of your kingdom being punished for your stupidity makes your skin crawl and your chest tightens with guilt. “No, it’s just…Me…I was curious.”

“Oh,” he pulls you closer. “Curious? You wish to see my castle?”

His words lull you into a false sense of comfort as you mistake his annoyance for understanding, “Yes, your Highness.”

“I see, little one,” he throws you over his shoulder. “You wish to see my castle and know its secrets. I see…Well, I shall make sure you spend all the time you have left within the walls of this castle.”

He walks you upstairs and tosses you into an empty bedroom. Before you can scramble to your feet the door is being slammed shut, and you hear the unmistakable click of a lock trapping you inside. You crawl to the door, standing on your knees as you bang on it desperately with shaking fists.

“Please,” you call out. “I’m sorry! Please let me out! I’ll leave! I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you!”

Your cries and pleas fall on deaf ears. Ganondorf closed himself off to emotions like pity and empathy long ago. He ascends the remaining stairs to go to the master bedroom once more. He grabs his earlier forgotten bottle of wine and throws himself into his chair. He throws his head back and finishes the bottle in one long gulp. His heart is racing as he thinks about you. Your pitiful eyes as you tried to explain yourself, and then your tiny hands on his wrist to cling to stability. There’s something about your curiosity and bravery that piqued his interest. He can’t remember the last time someone ventured to the castle.

Your cries and pleas continue for hours until you wear yourself out from exhaustion. You crawl onto the old bed and you begin sobbing until you fall asleep.

_____

Ganondorf awakens when the sun is high in the sky. He has almost forgotten about having locked you away. You on the other hand have been awake since dawn. You’ve torn the room apart in search of some sort of escape. Realizing the king had you locked up tight, you felt a wave of defeat crash over you.

“Damn it all,” you cried out and fell onto the bed with an annoyed sigh. Tears sting your eyes, but you try to hold them back.

You could feel Ganondorf approaching before you could see him. His looming presence was difficult to ignore. He pushed the door open, not feeling even a moment of remorse as he saw your pathetic form on the bed.

“You’re lucky it’s been ages since I’ve had anyone in this castle,” he speaks. “I require a new servant.”

You sit up on the bed, turning to him with a look of indignation.

“Who says I’m trying to become a servant?” you ask. Immediately you regret the question when his eyes begin to glow with anger. He reaches out to grab you by the collar of your dress, and easily he lifts you off the ground just like before.

“The alternative is death,” he growls.

You had no choice but to give in to him. He drops you back onto the bed before turning away. His imposing figure stalks to the door, only stopping for a moment to look over his shoulder at you.

“Start by cooking breakfast,” he says, his voice a perpetual growl.

You don’t know what else to do. There’s not much you can do besides go along with his orders. You go downstairs, and it takes a bit of searching before you find the kitchen. There’s almost no food in the pantries, only a few things you assume he must have gathered on his own at some point, or perhaps those from neighboring villages brought in the goods as offerings. You’re staring up at the shelves trying to plan a meal when his shadow looms over you.

“A farmer nearby brings supplies,” his voice booms through the pantry. “In return, I keep the monsters off his sheep.”

“Why would you?”

He answers your question with another, “What threat does a farmer hold to my rule?”

You don’t turn to him, instead, you reach up to the high shelf where there’s a bag of flour to try to reach it. You expect him to help you, but he doesn’t. He stands back and smirks as you climb up the shelves to grab the bag of flour and start to pull it slowly in the hope you can shimmy it down. Instead, it falls and bursts on the floor.

“Now you have a breakfast to cook and a mess to clean,” he chuckles. “It’s good to see you can keep yourself busy.”

He leaves you alone, and you manage to clean up. Then, you cook a nice meal considering what little you have to work with. After that, he tells you to pick a room and begin cleaning.

The days continue in this manner. You cook and clean in the castle. Occasionally you manage to tease some semblance of conversation from him, if grunts and the occasional sarcastic quip can be considered as such. To your surprise, he’s not cruel to you. He’s just cold, almost apathetic as far as you can tell. You’re mostly kept to your own devices, which is lonely. As long as you do the chores, he doesn’t have much to say.

Considering his indifference, you didn’t think he would put in any effort to stop your escape. Being able to explore the castle on your own for so many hours of the day, it had taken you a week to muster up the courage to try to leave. However, as soon as you passed through the gate gloom hands surprised you and dragged you back to your quarters. If he had known of your attempt to escape, he never spoke a word of it to you.

_____

Ganondorf isn’t accustomed to having company anymore. The centuries have passed, and his former companions have fallen by the wayside. Either having fallen in battle or to the ravages of time. He tells himself he’s a lonely old fool the first time his heart races when you attempt to make casual conversation with him.

His heart pounds even more so when you shyly ask if he misses being in Gerudo Town. Nobody over the years ever had the bravery to ask such a deeply personal question. You were sitting on the sofa by the fire mending a hole in your skirt when the question fell from your lips as simply as asking if the sky is blue. He looked up from the flames.

“What a bold question little one,” he commented as he took a deep breath to prepare his answer. “I miss my sisters most of all, but none of the sisters I knew are living any longer. Those who inhabit that place are now strangers to me as I am to them.”

A pang of sadness hits your chest, “Are there other things you miss?”

“No, not necessarily. The blistering sun and unforgiving sands hold no sentiment except for how they made me strong.”

“I see,” you say and quickly return to mending your clothes.

“You need more attire,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. It is because of me that you are here, therefore it is my responsibility to care for you.”

Your mind feels blank for a moment. Was that kindness? From the mouth of the demon king himself? Before you can say anything, he rises from his seat. He doesn’t bid you goodnight before disappearing. Nor do you notice him locking the castle up like he usually does at night.

The next morning when you awaken, there’s a a pile of neatly folded clothes placed on the armchair in your room. You look through the clothes carefully. Among the more casual pants and blouses, you also find a beautiful gown. The material is soft, emerald green with gold floral embroidery along the hems. You assume it must have been by mistake that he brought something so elegant and beautiful to you. With great care, you hang the gown in the wardrobe, where among the shelves you find a new pair of shoes and a winter cloak.

You get ready for your day, dressing in the new clothes he brought, and then busy yourself with chores. It’s nearly night when you hear Ganondorf stir. Looking to thank him for his gesture, you quickly make your way towards the staircase to greet him. However, the words are caught in your throat when you see him.

He’s dressed in a fine, majestic robe. You recognize the patterns on it as being Gerudo. His hair is tied back, and the red beard that had been down to his chest when you arrived is neatly trimmed back up to his jawline.

“Did you have something to say?” he asks, hoping to put a stop to your wide-eyed gaping. How long has it been since someone looked upon him with awe rather than fear?

“Y-you look nice,” you smile shyly, having forgotten your original intentions for the moment.

“Ah, yes,” he nods.

You look down to the floor again then the thoughts return to your mind. You bounce softly on your toes and your eyes light up.

“Thank you for bringing me new clothes!”

“I told you I would,” he comes down the rest of the stairs and looks down on you but not with malice. “Did you find the gown?”

Your eyes widen. So it hadn’t been a mistake?

“Y-yes, I did! It’s so beautiful.”

“I was hoping you’d wear it tonight,” he doesn’t sound as authoritative as he’d hoped to.

“Oh, sure. I’ll put it on after dinner.”

“No, don’t worry about dinner. Go change now.”

With a short, courteous bow you make your exit. Upstairs in your room, you quickly bathe and then slip into the beautiful gown. Upon inspecting your appearance, you decide a bit more effort needs to go into it if you’re to wear such an opulent outfit. You brush your hair and braid it neatly.

As you set to work on your appearance, you wonder what Ganondorf has planned for the evening. You’ve never seen him quite so…Handsome. He’s all cleaned up and dressed like the true king he is. Surely he wouldn’t go to so much effort for you, would he? No, you tell yourself that’s not possible. Perhaps he’s just having a bit of fun with you. After all, he’s been in this castle by himself for centuries. It would make sense for him to take to a bit of fanciness since he has someone around to share it with.

Somehow imagining him seeing you as more than just a servant makes your heart flutter. You tell yourself you must be insane for thinking this way. Yet, he’s become more than a master to you. You’ve spent long nights sitting by the fire, listening to his tales of times long past. Somewhere among hearing his childhood tales of starvation and heat among his people and witnessing the opulence Hyrule hoarded, you began to understand his anger. Perhaps you couldn’t fully condone his path, but you could understand why he would grow to desire the conquering of the kingdom. You began to see through the dark, foreboding reputation of the demon king.

As you descend the stairs, you notice more light in the castle than you’re used to at this time of night. The grand chandelier in the main hall has been lit along with the chandeliers on the stone walls throughout the corridor leading into the ballroom, as though lighting your path. As you open the large double doors, you see a dining table set up by the large windows looking out onto the courtyard. It’s filled to the brim with fruit, cheese, and dried meats. A bottle of wine is chilled by two glasses. Ganondorf stands nearby, his back straight as he stares out the window with his hands locked behind him.

“Your majesty,” you say to get his attention.

He turns to you, his eyes widening momentarily before his face returns to being neutral.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, almost too quiet for you to hear it. You bow politely.

“Thank you,” you smile.

“I have set up dinner,” he explains. “You asked me once what it was like being the king of the Gerudo. I thought I would show you how I ate then.”

“Oh?” You approach the table, and he quickly pulls the chair out for you. You thank him as you sit down.

“The heat was intense. So, I often tried to eat light yet still filling meals. I ate considerably more than this, of course, but I thought you’d appreciate having more variety.”

“You put this together?”

He smiles as he begins pouring the wine, “Yes, of course. Can’t I do things for myself? Or do you wish to take care of me completely?”

Your cheeks heat up at his double entendre. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings, trying not to imagine what all ‘taking care’ of him might entail.

“I suppose it’s just unexpected.”

He places a glass of wine by your hand, and you hear a deep chuckle from him as he sits across from you.

“Believe it or not, back then I didn’t have many servants. The Gerudo people are prideful therefore believe it or not, they didn’t bow to me like I was a child in need of praise. I was proud to be self-sufficient.”

“I see,” you smile. “So, what is all this?” you gesture to the ballroom all lit up and with a few flower arrangements scattered about.

“I thought you might enjoy a bit of grandeur,” he sighs. “Must you ask so many questions?”

Your cheeks burn as you look down at your plate, “I only wished to know.”

“All in due time,” he answers before beginning to pile his plate with food.

You follow along, taking a bit of all of the offerings. It was a nice, light meal. Leaving you full, yet still energetic instead of ready to fall asleep in your chair. The wine made your cheeks burn and your muscles feel loose. Ganondorf encourages you to eat more if you need more, and you’re surprised by the way he seems to be taking such care of you even though he doesn’t seem the kind to have a caring bone in his body.

After the two of you finish your meals, he takes your hand and leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He explains that he wishes to teach you some of the traditional Gerudo dances. He explains how often in his time as King, the dances would be performed with two women. However, as time passed and the Gerudo became more focused on finding husbands they began altering the steps.

“Women are strong and can stand on their own, but I suppose as time passed they wanted to be more meek to attract husbands,” he explains as he shows you the steps as intended which would see your hips swaying carelessly. “Are you meek?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“For you?” you giggle. “I think not.”

He laughs, surprising you deeply yet thrilling you none the same. Soon he has you pulled close as you perform the steps as he’d showed you. One large hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you to move along with him. The ballroom is large, and it’s perfect for what he does. Every corner is explored by the gentle tapping of your feet, barely out of synch considering the difference in your size.

“Come,” he says as he pulls you closer. He gently guides you to stand on his feet. The weight doesn’t seem to bother him as he holds you as close as he can. He moves the two of you as gracefully as waves across the ocean. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks down at you, and finally leans closer.

“Are you…?”

Before you can speak, and ruin the moment, he presses his lips to yours. The warmth of his mouth spreads through you, lighting a fire in the pit of your stomach. His hands rest upon your waist and his feet go still as he loses himself to the kiss. Your fingers are small and gentle as they comb through his fiery hair. Finally, the two of you separate. He almost looks ashamed of his actions. He steps away, looking around the room like a wild animal in a cage searching for an escape.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers. “Intimacy shared when one is bound is a violation.”

“Gan…Wait,” you grab his hand but he quickly pulls away. “I don’t feel that way with you.”

“It matters not what you feel. The truth is unchanged. If I’d not forced you here, then this moment would have never come to pass.”

“No, please-”

“You should leave,” he growls. “Do not look back at this place. Leave me here.”

“Just listen to me,” you plead. “Please, I want to stay!”

“Leave! Now,” he bellows through the halls. “Do not ever return!”

Tears fill your eyes as the sting of rejection fills your chest. You want to open your mouth and tell him how badly you wish to stay. Throughout your time with him you’ve seen him grow from being a reclusive, grumpy king to showing the side of him that’s charming. You’ve found yourself growing more confident and content as well. Despite everything, you seem to have brought out the best in one another. Yet, he’s pushing you away now.

“If you do not leave, I will kill you!” he snarls, the threat as empty as the wine bottle on the dining table. He’d never be able to bring himself to harm a hair on your head.

Without another word, you run upstairs to pack your few belongings. _____

You were surprised by the greeting you’d received when you’d returned home. Your family was delighted to see you. Your mother doted on you for days, having spent the better part of a year thinking you had abandoned the family or worse got yourself killed. You have always been a curious one, after all. After all of your family realized not only were you in good health, but you weren’t going to share what you’d been through it was business as usual. There were chores to be done on the farm, and you were eager to busy yourself with mindless work.

You missed him deeply. It was a surprising turn, even to you. At night when you sat by the fire, you often found yourself asking your family philosophical questions they couldn’t answer all that deeply. In your mind, you could almost hear the way Ganondorf would have answered them. The way he almost seemed to purr in the back of his throat when he sat back in his chair, rubbing his beard, as he considered how to answer your best. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you’d managed to push a topic he was particularly interested in. His eyes would light up when you would argue with him, confidently asserting your thoughts, as though he was proud of you for being so willing to stand up to him. Meanwhile, you felt suffocated by returning to your old life. Your family are kind people, surely, but they’re also simple in their desires. You missed the thrill of being close to someone who had a worldview so interestingly different from your own who could both challenge and be challenged in exchange.

Yet, you worked. Finding solace and quiet in the familiarity of it all. It was the same thing you’d found yourself doing up until the fateful day you had been at the castle.

Did he know how much the time you spent with him meant to you? Somehow you felt that question burning in your mind for weeks. Maybe if you had told him the truth of your feelings sooner, then he would have never sent you away. If he had known you didn’t feel imprisoned with him, would he have let you stay by his side? Would the budding feelings between you have finally bloomed? Not having the answers to these questions was enough to drive you to madness. And yet…The answers would not come.

Months had passed when the adventurer arrived. His name was Link, and as your family served him dinner he explained his mission. He was to free Hyrule from the Demon King, Ganondorf.

“The Demon King has been silent for many years,” your father said. “Is such a feat really worth laying down your life for?”

“He may be silent for now, but the conquering spirit in him still remains. Hyrule will not be free until he is gone,” Link replied.

“Will peace truly ever return?” your mother asked.

“Yes,” Link said, with an unwavering resolve. “Princess Zelda will take the throne, and restore prosperity.”

As all of you laid down in your bedrolls that night, you had tried to push away the fear. He had made sure you no longer felt like he was your problem, therefore you felt it was in your best interest to pretend it wasn’t. Whether Ganondorf lived or died, should have been of no concern to you.

Yet, the next morning, you rise with the sun. You quickly go check the spare room, and see that Link has already left. His blankets are neatly folded and there’s a small pile of money off to the side.

“No, no,” you whisper to yourself.

You run to the stables and take one of your family horses. You ride towards the castle, praying that you will make it in time to save Ganondorf. Although truth be told, you didn’t know if it was entirely possible.

The sun is shining brightly overhead, the sky a cheerful shade of blue. In the distance, you can see a dark, gloom-filled cloud hanging over the ruins of Hyrule castle. You wonder if Link has already made it there, and is now fighting Ganondorf. There’s a strange conflict brewing in your chest because you understand why Link wants to defeat him. You just can’t stand the thought of losing Ganondorf. You keep replaying that night in your head, and you wish more than anything that you would have fought harder to stay by his side. Knowing you may never get to tell him the truth of your feelings makes your heart sink into your stomach.

As you arrive at the castle, the clouds of gloom have begun to fade. Leaving only rainclouds in their wake that are slowly being pushed aside by the soft breeze. Does this mean it’s over? Ganondorf has been defeated?

You leave your horse by the gate and run past the walls. You see his large form hunched over on one of the balconies. Link lunges with his sword, and suddenly Ganondorf falls. He lands with a loud crash on the ground, sending cracks through the stone from the impact. Link stands at the edge of the balcony and crawls onto the ledge. He points an arrow bathed in divine light down at Ganondorf, aiming for the finishing blow.

“No!” You cry out as you run to Ganondorf’s rumpled form.

“Huh?” Link gasps as he sees you throw yourself over Ganondorf. Your considerably smaller form does nothing to truly shield him, but Link knows you wouldn’t be able to withstand the blast from the light arrow. “Move!” Link calls down to you.

“No! I won’t!”

“Little one,” Ganondorf coughs. “It’s over…Do not…” he trails off when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks. He can’t remember the last time anyone cried for him, or if they ever had.

“Please, I won’t let you die,” you cry softly and bury your head against his chest. You don’t care about the blood and grime covering him. You feel his large hand on your back, his fingers curling through your hair.

“I’m glad you came, if only so I could see you one last time.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “Don’t speak that way.”

Link jumps down, landing with a thud on his feet, “You don’t understand. I have to finish him. Ganondorf has to die so Hyrule can be saved.”

“Why does he have to die?” you sob as you continue clinging to him, your tears soaking into his tattered clothes. Link looks down, unsure of how to answer your question. Truth be told, he didn’t truly understand himself. Ganondorf had practically been dormant for half a century, and the monsters had slowly begun to fade away.

“It’s fate,” Ganondorf tells you, continuing to rub your back. “Stand aside, little one. Do not weep for me anymore.”

“Ganondorf, I can’t leave you like this,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“Love?” he whispers as though the word is one he’s never heard. He wants to laugh, not at your feelings but at the notion of someone feeling something so gentle for him. “I…I love you as well, but it matters not now.”

You look up, expecting to see Link standing over you. Instead, you see his retreating form. Almost seeming to sense your gaze, he looks over his shoulder. “Make sure he doesn’t give me a reason to seek him again. The two of you find somewhere to go, somewhere far away from here. I will tell everyone he’s dead.”

“Thank you,” you whisper through gentle sobs.

Ganondorf can hardly believe his ears. Had the hero truly decided to spare him? He couldn’t imagine a time when something like this would happen, and yet he knows there’s something he’s never had before…Rather someone. You must be the most precious thing he’s ever held in his arms.

You embrace him again, savoring the beating of his heart and the warmth of him. Still alive, still breathing. He touched your hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers. When you finally look up at him, there’s a sweet smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. Then, you lean down to kiss him. His heart soars from the gentle affection.

It would seem fate had something different in store for him this time.

#🌟written in the stars #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf #ganondorf dragmire x reader #ganondorf fanfiction #legend of zelda fanfiction #ganondorf loz x reader

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jintaka-hane · 3 months ago

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It's my birthday!!!! 🎉🥳

Yesssss! Another turn of the globe! 🌎 And I want to celebrate it with you all. 🪩 I want to gift everyone here (and myself 🙆🏻) a fic with my three favorite things in the world:

bratty reader ✅

enemies to lovers ✅

and Eustass fucking Captain Kid ✅

Life hasn’t let me finish it in time for today, but at least I can share the beginning because, honestly, I can’t keep it to myself!! 🦾❤️

Summary: You are a prisoner aboard the Victoria Punk. You have found and hidden a treasure that Kid's pirates were searching for, and with the intention of interrogating you, they keep you chained in the ship's brig until you confess its location. Poor Kid. He has no idea who he’s playing with. And he’s going to end up getting burned, obsessed with a very different treasure. Notes: very much NSFW (not now, but will), bratty reader, Kid does not what to do with you, Kid is obsessed, you have experience manipulating men, cocky Kid, even cockier reader, provocation, seduction, poor self control, short tempered Kid, the tables turn, he is wrapped around your finger.

Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

In one corner, a lantern casts a soft glow on the wooden floor and walls. The smell of brandy is strong, probably coming from a nearby wine cellar, and mixes with the salty, humid atmosphere. And there's a soft wood creaking with each gentle, rhythmic sway of the room.

You’re on a ship.

A metallic clink cuts through the quiet as you try to move your hands, and your gaze drops down to your dirty forearms, following the length of a heavy chain secured around your sore wrists. The chain crisscrosses, ending in iron rings anchored firmly to the wall.

Yes. You are in the ship’s brig.

You chuckle wryly, shaking your head in amusement. This again, huh? What debt had you racked up this time? Or who’d you try to swipe from that actually managed to catch you? You’ve been in plenty of cells before, but not this one.

The bitter, metallic taste of blood lingers in your mouth, and you flick your tongue to wipe away a small trickle the corner of your lip. Smirking, you recall flashes of what went down a few hours ago. That blonde brute in the mask, pinning you to the ground with that burnt-up tree trunk of an arm. The tall idiot dressed like a cockroach in fishnets, kicking you square in the face.

Amateurs. You grin to yourself, thinking about how they held back. Clearly, they had no idea what you’d been through before. These rookies didn’t even come close to the worst of it.

The iron lock of the cell door creaks open and the silhouette of an imposing man is outlined against the light. You squint, trying to make out your captor’s identity beneath the dim lantern glow. The hulking figure looms at the entrance, arms and chest bulging with intimidating muscles straining against an unbuttoned black shirt. His wild red hair spikes upward like a flame, and beneath a pair of studded leather goggles, sharp orange eyes glint over a crooked, broken nose.

Eustass Captain Kid, you think immediately.

Alright, so maybe your captor isn’t the idiot you were expecting... but still, you don’t flinch an inch. Your survival instinct kicks in, and your brain starts working to assess the level of threat you’re facing. With a single glance, you study his attitude, stance and outfit, and it doesn’t take long for you to reach your verdict. Arrogant and cocky. With those ridiculous yellow pants with purple frills screaming overconfidence.

Nothing you can’t handle.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid <3

#one piece #x reader #jintaka stuff #jintaka birthday

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stevenbasic · 1 year ago

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GITJ Post 333: A Saturday at Melissa's, p8 (6pm, Lakshmi)

“Hi there,” I said, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth drop seeing me, standing there in Melissa’s downstairs bathroom, my leggings pulled down past my bottom. Instead of screaming and panicking like I would have done just three months ago if a boy walked in on me changing, I just stood there. I was calm, and I let him look at me. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I was proud of my body, and how it was changing, what it was becoming.

“Oh my god I’m s-sorry!” he blurted, but I stopped him with a word as he moved to close the door again.

“No, stop,” I said, and immediately he did. He froze in his tracks for me. “It is okay, I am just changing.” I stood there longer, I did not move. His eyes went back to my behind, I watched him, and I smiled. “You can stay and watch if you want.”

“y-yeah no…I was just trying to…but I don’t have a suit…” The poor thing sounded confused and lost. He obviously needed someone to help him again, but even after what we had done together this week, he was still shy.

“You were trying to find a place to change, too?” I asked patiently. He nodded, and I knew I should not laugh. I could barely believe that this was Dr. J, my boss for these past years, and this was me. And it had come to be like this. He was like a little boy who just walked in on his mommy’s friend in the bathroom. He looked so embarrassed. “Why don’t you go find the other ladies, they are in the pool. They can help.”

He looked at me - not my bum, haha, but in my eyes in the mirror this time - and left. He had listened to me. Good boy.

We were going swimming! Like many of the others, I had not known this house had an indoor pool and did not come prepared. But after a few glasses of afternoon wine from the cellar we figured it would be fun! With Dr. J, now awake and fed I had the chance to pick out an old swimsuit of Melissa’s from the stash we had found in storage, in the basement. Her mom had kept bins of them from Melissa’s teen years. I chose a pretty blue one-piece that looked like it might fit around my bust (now that I am so much bigger up there than I was haha) but oh my goodness the buttttt….

…

“C’mon in Lakshmi we’re teaching him to swim..!”

It was so nice, Melissa’s mother’s house. I mean, my family’s home was nice too, my father had made good money since coming to the United States. But it was not like this, not this big, not this modern and elegant. And we certainly did not have an indoor pool! Melissa’s mother must be very wealthy and successful to afford this house, much more so than my father. She kept everything perfect and beautiful, and this pool area was not an exception. It was a large, glassed-in enclosure, with plants and furniture and nice lighting. A big rock formation took up one part of one wall, bringing an earthy, natural vibe to the whole environment . It was warm, even in November, and above the chlorine I could sense the girls had already filled it with our perfumes. Melissa hadn’t arrived yet - she said she would be coming with Shanette when they were done shopping - but there were many of us here already, both on the pool deck relaxing, sitting on the pool’s edge, and in the water itself.

I smiled in greeting at the group drinking wine in the lounge chairs as I made my way into the big indoor pool room. I caught myself laughing, seeing it. Some girls were on the pool deck, relaxing, but Josie, Randi and the two desk girls Bobbi and Brittni had Dr. J in the pool, in the deeper end. They were…giving him swimming lessons?

“He says he used to be able to swim?” Brittni said. She was wearing a brief yellow bikini. “But look-“

I took my first step into the pool and watched as Brittni, who had been holding Dr. J under the armpits, pushed him away from her. She was in water shallow enough for her to stand, but apparently too deep for Dr. J. He had become smaller, recently, the poor thing, while Brittni and Bobbi were each probably 5’8” at this point., just like me. We all watched as he started to flounder, beating awkwardly at the water with his hands and arms. I felt my own heart flutter in a protective reflex, and took another two quick steps down the pool stairs, but he was quickly rescued by Bobbi, who took him underneath the arms again. Her bikini matched her friend’s; the two looked nearly like twins, and their hair looked darker than I remembered.

“Tell Lakshmi what you told us,” called Randi, who was treading water in the deepest area of the pool. Her smile was really big, really white. She looked to be wearing a black bikini, big breasts buoyant.

Now secure in Bobbi’s arms, Dr. J looked sheepishly over at me as I slowly waded into the water. “Y-yeah I used to be able to, but now I can’t…” he said, his voice so delightfully reticent, like an embarrassed little boy.

“Yeah he’s lost the ability to swim,” Randi purred, in her smoky voice.

Coos and clucks greeted that, coming from all over the big warm room. “That’s sooo adorable, isn’t it?” burst Aubrey, who was sitting on the pool’s edge, quiet to this point. Her long legs kicked lazily into the water, and a black one-piece clung to her surprisingly dramatic, elegant curves. She looked at Dr. J with a warm, protective gaze that made me feel a nice attachment to her. In response, Dr. J had hid his face, tucking his chin to his chest.

Oooo!

Was he giving us the impression that he was a weak, vulnerable man on purpose? Did he want to look like someone who needed the protection of women? The way he clung to Bobbi’s arms, a young bosomy girl who held him out of the water for his safety, certainly made it seem that way. Maybe it was our perfumes that were doing this to him, or maybe he wanted us to pamper and parent him like a crowd of swimsuit aunties. Because if that was what he was trying to get us to do…he was doing a pretty good job of it!

“Let’s see him try again, He’s so cute when he struggles,” <video link, sound on!> Katie said, leaning over the pool in her blue bikini. I watched his eyes go up to her, from down below in the pool. He looked stunned, and I could not blame him. She is so pretty, with her blonde hair and makeup perfect even on a casual night like this. All the girls, in fact, looked amazing. I could not believe these were my friends. “Go ahead, sweetie, try to swim,” she urged, “you’re going to do great.”

I watched, we all watched, as Bobbi held him, and then talked gently in his ear, readying him to try to paddle across the pool again. Brittni held her arms out, expectant. “Come on, little guy, come on…” she cooed, “Come to Brittni.”

Another chorus of ‘awwwwwws..!’ came from the group of us as he tried the best he could to doggie-paddle his way to the curvy dark-haired girl. He panted and struggled, and after Brittini took a step or two closer, he finally reached her. We all cheered.

“Yayyyy..!”

“So good, sweetie!”

“Oh my gosh you’re swimming!”

“Maybe we should get him some floaties,” drawled Amelia, who was inspecting her nails at the pool’s edge, seated on a lounger.

Everyone watched, and chatted, and talked and drank wine and I joined in on the lesson, helping him when he needed to stay afloat. From time to time he would cling to me. His little muscles would tire from all the exercise, and I held him so he could have a rest. His skin felt so good against mine and I could feel his ribs press against my breasts. I made sure to talk gently to him, as I could tell he was still embarrassed. At one point I let him go, to hold onto the wall in the shallow end so I could take a glass of wine from Katie, who offered me one from across the pool.

“That suit look sooo nice on you, Kiki,” Josie complimented me...

”The color is really pretty? That nice blue?” said Bobbi.

”Don’t you think so Dr J?” asked Brittni.

I could feel his eyes on my bottom as I was reaching for the wine glass. My butt had gotten so big that I knew it must be bursting out the behind. Melissa had been a curvy teen, I am sure, but my butt was obviously way bigger than hers when she fit into this suit! Dr. J was having a hard time looking away from me, but soon his attention was torn elsewhere. Looking up, I saw that Katarina was at the glass door which led from the main living area's great room into the pool. Someone had maybe locked it and she was knocking, and pressing her big boobs into the glass, trying to get in. A big smile was on her face, and her breasts looked enormous in a bikini of midnight blue, pancake-squashed up against the slider. “Let me in..!” she called, voice muffled by the glass. She then planted a big kiss on the floor-to-frame pane.

“Haha okay okay hold on you impatient Polish milf!” said Randi as Katarina pulled away a bit, leaving a huge pucker lipstick mark where her kiss had been, “Those milkers might just bust right through!” Randi had moved to unlock the door and finally Katarina stepped back, to allow it to slide open. Two big, moist mammary-marks remained for a moment, before slowly fading.

“Oh my god Katarina look at you!” Josie laughed, as she stared at the blonde’s overly ample chest.The tall, Eastern European woman stepped into the pool area, sliding the door closed behind her.

“Sorry, I had call husband, at home,” Katarina said, apologizing for having stepped away, “He nervous with babies.” She was thin, but as a new, nursing mother her breasts were humongous and she knew it “Yes Josephine, I pump earlier. I fill all bottles I bring. But look, so swollen again! It like they know someone hungry.”

I could not help but look over at Dr. J who, from the side of the pool, starred up in awe at Katarina. The poor thing. We all know how he is, and being surrounded by a bevy of us like this must be so hard on him. Everywhere he turned there was something or someone curvy. His employees, his assistants, his secretaries and helpers, here in weekend mode, relaxed and casual and all in swimsuits must have been quite the test.

Brittni and Bobbi, in fact, looking like twin sisters in their matching bikinis, were moving back across the pool to him. It was cute, watching his eyes bulge, and then them squish him between themselves…

Maybe it was all the wine, or something in the air, but the girls (myself included haha!) were all being so affectionate with him. And the best thing? He was letting us! It was like he had given in, relaxed, and just let himself enjoy the attention. There was no sense of jealousy among us, there was no thought that we were doing something we shouldn’t. Melissa loved us, she loved him, we all loved one another. There was a new feeling of family that had grown strong and warm. I watched him smile awkwardly, sandwiched between the B-girls, and felt my heart open tenderly. He is ours to protect and care for, I could feel it, and we could do such a good job!

The girls played with him in the water some more, giggling, and Josie and I sat together in the hot tub and poured each other wine. Josie was making fun of how frizzy my hair got, around the pool -

- so mean haha! After some time there was a buzz in the air - an actual buzz! - and we could tell Melissa was soon to arrive. We all became giddy and when she appeared in the doorway, the glass sliding open, many of us gasped

She was so beautiful.

“Oh good, Mommy’s home!” Josie sang.

She stepped in, casual as can be somehow, even as all eyes were drawn magnetically to her. Looking tall, taller than I ever remember seeing her from my seat in the tub, she was absolutely the queen in this castle. If all the girls looked pretty in their swimsuits, Melissa was no less than a bikini goddess built of pure curves that boggled minds. She strode in wearing ribbed swim top of navy blue with a thin, white towel around her womanly hips, ready to swim. Her legs were long, shapely and muscular, her waist and abdominals trimly and impossibly fit.

“Jesus Missy, look at you,” Amelia said, uncharacteristically stunned. Melissa’s curves, her musculature, her long limbs and perfect skin seemed to call to mind something more than human.

“Wow Miss,” Katie said, echoed by Randi. Others - Aubrey, Katarina, the B-girls and myself - were speechless. How could a human be so perfect?

Melissa smiled and her eyes sparkled in the dim light, but that was all the acknowledgment she gave us. She seemed focused on one thing. “How’s my baby?” she spoke, eyes on Dr. J where he was held up in the far end of the pool by Brittni and Bobbi. As Melissa slowly stepped in, towards the pool steps, her gaze was fixed the whole time.

“We measured him today,” Josie called out from beside me, “he’s lost a couple more inches.”

We watched as, casually, Melissa loosened the towel and let it drop from her hips to the floor, just before the steps. Some of us gasped again as now she was fully on display, with brief bikini bottoms baring bountiful hips. From our angle in the hot tub, Josie and I had a view of her bottom, which was huge and magnificent.

“Is that right, sweetie?” Melissa asked him, as her first toes entered the water, “You got measured?”

“Yeah puppy tell her how tall you are now,” Randi spoke, as she walked over towards us, approaching the hot tub. ‘Puppy’? That was a new term. I liked it!

Eyes in the room were now on Dr. J, still held up between the B-girls, their big breasts squashed into either side of him. His jaw was ajar, and his eyes glazed.

“C’mon spill it,” Amelia groaned, feigning her typical disinterest but brilliant blue eyes full of intelligence. We all felt it, how primal this moment was. “Tell us all your height., we forget. And Missy needs to know.”

Melissa started to wade into the pool taking one step and then another as she slowly walked towards him. Her eyes were gleaming now and still locked on his, keeping his gaze with her crooked smile. But she didn’t say a word, letting us urge him to speak.

“Tell her, Dr. J,” Aubrey teased.

“Yeah sweetie it’s okay,” I heard myself say.

“I’m 4'10”,” he blurted, voice cracking adorably but carrying enough for Melissa to hear. Her smile widened as we all sighed, and then deepened as she began to close the distance between them. The water parted for her, making way as her large body pushed waves to ripple across the pool’s surface. Three-plus feet of water came barely up to her bottom, but every step she took brought her deeper.

Just then, aside me, Josie spoke up. “ooooooo and chocolate mommy too!”

“‘Chocolate Mommy?’” said Shanette, who had just stepped into the room, “for real?” Greetings were called out, and Shanette slid the door closed behind herself, sealing us all in once again. She, too, was in a swimsuit, and had breasts that rivaled Katarina’s in size. She said hellos, smiling at us each as she set a new bottle of wine down on a poolside table. Then she looked at Dr. J, still in the B-girls’ arms. The platinum blonde Katie had drifted alongside them. “So it looks like someone here has a little harem, doesn’t he?” Shanette asked.

That brought a titter of giggles from the girls in the pool, hands brushing his thin chest.

“A harem, hm?” Melissa purred, one brow cocked as she still approached the little group in the deeper water, closing the distance slowly, “Who else is coming?”

“Oh, a few more people, I forget,” Josie answered, “We invited most everyone.”

“Angie? Cici?” someone asked.

“Does they even still work here?” Randi posited. It was an honest question; no one could remember seeing them, recently though in fact neither had missed a day of work,, “Who’s Cici again?” Some had even forgotten their names.

“Well, you have lots of girls tonight,” Melissa concluded, “What a lucky little man.” She sounded amused, tolerant, advancing on them. From behind her I watched as she took a moment to gather up her thick dark hair, pinning it up. I admired the musculature of her back and shoulders. “Well, that’s nice honey, I’m glad all my friends are here,” she said, having come close enough to reach out to him, “but Wifey’s home now.”

The girls all giggled again.

”Come here,” she purred, a deep satisfaction in her voice as the B-girls gently let him go, as Melissa’s hands reached under his thin arms and took him from their curvy bodies, “Mommy wants to say hello to daddy.”

We all, fixated, cooed and clucked our approval, watching Melissa bring him to herself, as the girls stepped back. She tucked him onto her side, settling him on her left hip, smiling tenderly. He found his legs curled around her waist underwater, his arms thrown about her long, graceful neck above. Their gazes were locked into each other, and the moment was so romantic! She started to slowly walk him around the pool.

“Oh, Missy, this is so adorable,” someone said.

It gave all of us a deep satisfaction to see them together, like all was right again in the world. Something in the air - not just the warm water - heated our blood, brought pleasure to us. His erection pushed into her side; it was like we could all feel it.

“Mmmm what are you wearing, honey?” we heard her purr. Her eyes were heavy lidded, enjoying the moment herself.

“I, uh, didn’t have a suit…” he answered sheepishly.

“We let him swim in his boxers,” Aubrey offered.

“Yeah he was too shy to go naked,” Randi said.

“Oh we can fix that,” Melissa smiled, and then pressed her lips firmly against his own.

We saw as the surprise almost caused him to recoil but Melissa’s lips seemed to draw him in. They engulfed his mouth and took hold of his face. She was in charge of their kissing, it was easy to see, and he passively allowed her to swallow him down into it. He looked blissful, held and kissed by his lover, and it made my thighs shiver imagining what they both must be feeling. He didn’t even notice as they lazily walked to the shallows, up the stairs and then back down into the attached hot tub, to be bathed in the warmth of it with Josie and me. We cooed to them in greeting but he seemed unaware that we were even there, so consumed by her kiss he was. All he knew was that when her lips released him he had no strength left and could only let Melissa support him as she now sat on the cement bench which circled the inside of the tub. She settled his smaller body on her lap, supporting him with her strong arms.The feeling of his body relaxing on her own was obviously both soothing and exciting for them both.

Melissa released him from her kiss, and looked deep down into his fluttering eyes. I realized that none of us had said anything for quite some time.

Shanette was first to speak; she was standing on the steps of the main pool, behind Melissa. “What did we talk about, Missy?” she asked,

At that, as if reminded of something, Melissa giggled and, with one hand still supporting his back, lowered the straps of her bikini partway down her shoulders. Dr. J’s eyes immediately went to her chest and she, gathering her shoulders, bulged her enormous breasts together, causing them to balloon upwards and him to moan. They were right in front of his face, and looked big enough to swallow his head.

“That’s right, go to mama,” I heard Shanette whisper.

“oh my god…” he breathed, despite himself.

“That’s right, she’s so big, isn’t she Dr. J?” Randi purred, walking towards us on the deck.

Dr. J moaned again.

“Weekend daddy is so much more fun than work daddy,” Josie giggled, turning a bit towards the couple, from their right. I sat across the tub, just watching as Dr. J’s eyes drifted to Josie. She wore a black string bikini, tied around her neck, and looked really pretty.

“He is more fun,” Randi said, as she slid into the tub with us, behind Dr. J and to Melissa’s left, “Maybe we shouldn’t let him go to work anymore.”

“Ooo yeah!” Josie squealed.

That brought a giggle from Melissa. “Would you like that?” she asked him, bouncing him a little in her lap with her large, muscular thighs, “If I kept you here as a stay-at-home husband?” Was she joking? Or was she serious? Haha oh my god!

“Yeah he could cook and clean for you,” Randi offered.

“I’d pay to see him in an apron,” said Amelia, who had stood, strolled our way with her wine.

“Oh no no no…” Melissa laughed, jostling him again on her lap, “I’d do all that. That’s Wifey’s job. This house is too big for daddy.” She knew where his eyes were fixed, staring at her breasts as they jiggled in her navy blue bikini top. “And we can’t have him all tired when mommy gets home…”

”Yeah mommy has needs!” Josie giggled.

I watched Melissa’s hand reach down between his legs.

“Oh I do, I do…” she agreed, groaning, as if overcome by the feel of him in her grip, “Omigosh, you have no idea.” She smiled as we all watched as his whole body stiffened, for a moment, feeling her big hand take hold of him underwater.

“You’re so hard for her aren’t you, baby?” Shanette purred, from where she stood nearby in the main pool by the steps. The shallows were part way up her brown thighs.

“Oh he is,” Melissa returned, smiling, watching his face. “Josie, Randi, Ki…is it okay if I…take care of him? Under the water?” she asked, “You guys can step out if it’s-“

“No, please go ahead!” Josie blurted, as Randi just chuckled.

“yes oh my,” I agreed, nearly speechless, my eyes feeling as wide as Josie’s. Melissa was going to do it here, right now, in the hot tub with the warm water and all of us in it? Oh my god I felt my mouth dry up, my thighs tingle again like I wanted it in me.

Dr J had made some weak complaint, but Melissa’s hand was already in his boxers gripping him, pulling him free. My heart was racing, watching this as best I could; I could only see a hint of what was going on beneath the froth of the roiling water, shadows and shapes of his huge erection in her fist. He was embarrassed, we could all tell, exposed in front of us like this, but he was also already consumed by pleasure.

”shhhhh you need this…it’s okay,” Melissa was urging him, “Just relax.”

“Yeah, relax Daddy, you need this,” Josie purred, as both she and I drifted in closer, “Mommy’s taking care of you.” Aubrey had also become bold enough to slip into the tub with us, while Shanette stayed in the main pool, still turned towards us watching.

“It’s like girl soup in there, hm?” Amelia commented, sitting down on the hot tub’s edge, “I’ll put my feet in…”

“Girl soup!” Josie giggled, making me laugh too. Aubrey bobbed up and down, rolling waves through the water.

“Mmmm yum yum, right Jay?” Melissa purred, “But I think it needs one more ingredient…” At that, underwater, Melissa’s hand tugged at something and in an instant she held a torn, sodden pair of boxers above the water. She showed them to him, dripping, before dropping them into the water. They floated around the frothy surface of the hot tub, dancing with the bubbles, as her hand sunk back down between his legs.

”Oooo…” Josie giggled, “boxers and boy-juice…”

”Yeah make him come,” Aubrey then bluntly added, her eyes wide and fixed as she still bounced up and down, up and down, her own big breasts bobbing and floating, jiggling, water streaming off them in rivulets.

“Omigod please yes,” I heard myself moan, imagining the water around us briny, full of his seed. We would swim in it.

We watched as Melissa’s arm began to move back and forth. She was stroking him right in front of us! She’d tilted her chin up, mouth now open and expectant, eyes on his face. “Would you like that?” she asked him, “Want to help us make girl soup?”

He groaned, as Katarina slipped into the warm water with us.

Haha was mother’s milk an ingredient too? Maybe he was thinking the same thing as I watched his eyes follow her, lowering herself and her enormous breasts down until they floated buoyantly up off her thin body.

There were seven of us now in a tub made for six. Amelia and now Katie sat on the edge, with pretty feet in the foaming water of our soup, the smell of chlorine and our perfumes making the air thick along with steam from the tub. Our legs all intermingled, hands drifted. I found one of mine cupping his left ankle. We all purred, and buzzed, and cooed.

”I’ve missed you, alllll day,” Melissa said to him, as she stroked his erection underwater, “Have you missed me too?”

”Y-y-yes,” he answered, the only answer acceptable.

”He’s had a hard day without you,” Aubrey said.

“Yes he so tired,” followed Katarina.

”Well, we’ll get him out in a few minutes, dry him off, get him inside so he can rest,” Melissa agreed, still stroking. She moved her other hand from a supportive position on his back to a position behind his sodden head and neck. “Dinner and movie night with your girls, hm? Sound nice?”

“y-y-yes,” he answered again.

“But first, more kisses…”

A new chorus of awws and ahhs filled the air around the tub as Dr J. and Melissa began to kiss again, her neck twisted down so her mouth could take his. Her right arm still moved in the same rhythm, as she tended to him below the surface, and we all saw his body first stiffen with the shock of the kiss, then start to shudder. Her mouth was so much bigger than his, and watching them kiss was thrilling. His breathing matched hers, his thin chest collapsing in on itself when she pulled breath from his lungs.

”Omigod Missy it looks like you’re sucking the life out of him!” Josie laughed.

Giggling, Melissa broke their kiss for a moment, allowing his head to loll back like a rag doll’s. “Maybe I am!” she beamed, once again taking his head from behind into her hand. She leaned back, and kissed him again, her ministrations to his manhood now taking on greater urgency.

“Take it from him,” someone groaned. Maybe it was me.

“He is look so tired,” said Katarina, whose hand had begun stroking his left thigh, her big breast pressed down onto his knee.

“He’s had a big day,” Aubrey confirmed, watching the kiss, biting her lip as he began to shake.

“So big,” I said.

“It’s about to get even bigger,” Amelia commented, from the tub’s edge,as he really began to shake, “Josie, show him.”

At that, knowing exactly what our blonde friend meant, Josie put her breasts right beside his face. As he was kissing Melissa, his eyes turned to see her chest and goggle at them as they were nearly close enough to touch his face. Melissa’s hand was now moving more urgently under water, and he would be staring right at Josie’s breasts when he-

“That’s right, come for us,” Melissa purred.

He groaned, he moaned, he spasmed and jerked in Melissa’s embrace as, obviously, under the water he began to climax. I looked down and could see the ropey fluid, the thick semen jetting from his outsized manhood, swimming into the water around him and swirling into the currents, mixing with the froth and the chlorine and spiraling around. It floated, it sank, and as pulse after pulse came from him it began to eddy around the tub, among us, my eyes glazing over as I watched and…

…and then the growth began.

NNNNNnnnnghhhh….we all groaned, as the familiar feeling gripped us. Several times last night, but now stronger as we were all so close. I felt it in my bones, I felt it in my chest and in the fertile swelling of my thighs and rear. There was pain, yes, some, but it was delicious and I could see in the eyes of everyone we were all hungry for it. His eyes, in the meantime, were fixed and staring, still pasted to Josie’s breasts and - oh my god- he was watching her grow.

Yes, it was subtle, it always was. But the swelling of her breasts in her bikini top was unmistakable. She bulged at it, strings now pulling more tightly than they had before from around her neck. Soft round flesh bubbled as she grew, as they inflated. I felt it in myself, too, as did we all. And then we heard him mutter, something small, something weak, as he stared at Josie’s breasts. It was quiet…but we heard it.

“bigger…” he said.

And Melissa began laughing.

“Oh my goodness, baby, yes!” she sang, as she shifted him in her lap. Her hand moved from between his legs, the other from behind his head. She had him by the sides of his bony chest, under his arms, then shifted a bit lower down his torso. “Look at how big we’re getting!” she cooed, turning him to face the group, “You’re giving us so much!”

At that she lifted him, slowly, with strength that was in no way normal, off her lap. His hips broke the surface, and we all gasped on seeing his cock. Then his thighs, his knees. She held him, now, aloft up and in front of us, a small but fully-grown man, and she held him like he was a toy, feet dangling into the water. He was naked, and he was huge. His penis, dropped now a bit from full-mast, seemed nearly as thick as his forearm, and it was still coming as we watched, all of us with eyes wide, mouths agog, some of us laughing. He was still pulsing, semi-thick member throbbing, releasing seed. It was slowing, yes, but he had already burst forth so much of his ejaculate it had begun to cloud the water, and now drip in heavy plops onto the surface and into the soup.

As he began to come down, his climax waning, Melissa slowly lowered him again to her lap, back into the pool of his own jism.

“Holy Lion King,” Amelia managed, as we all began to recover ourselves..

“Oh my god…” Aubrey said, from behind Josie. I saw her reach down, cup some water into her hand.

“Yeah huh?” Randi smiled, eyes flashing, looking down at him. His body was still spasmodically shaking but coming to a stillness in Melissa’s arms.

Semen all in the water, Amelia couldn’t help but kick her feet through it from where she sat on the hot tub’s edge. She was chuckling. “Watch out,” she told us, as we began to come down from our high, “you’re all going to get pregnant in there.”

Someone laughed, I think it was me, and I lowered my face to the water, mouth open, to drink the soup.

===========================================

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moon-huny · 1 year ago

Text

Stole the Moon - Chapter Four

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Minors DNI. Youre kidnapped, hostage situation, standard pirate stuff. mention of attempted assault, murder, afab reader, she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Going ashore, something about Buggy seems off.

A/N: I could not fit all of the smut that I wanted to include in this chapter so onto the next, which will exclusively be the chapter. I would just hate to rush and waste all of the angsty potential.

Learning more about our reader in this chapter tho. Gotta love some backstory. You know what they say, uncertain pasts make the heart grow fonder.

Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

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“Fuck off to where you came from Cabaji, you can pry her from our cold dead hands!”

You were laid out on the yellow loveseat sipping water while Lettie kneeled beside you and gently cleaned the red makeup from your neck. Marie was on the other side of the small cabin, pushing the door shut and spewing threats. She gripped the little iron knob and pushed her entire body weight against the door to keep the swordsman out.

“You forget that I happen to know at least eight different ways to kill you,” Cabaji shot back, the door once again shuttering against Marie’s attempts to keep it closed.

Last night, the two young women stumbled their way to the kitchen for a late night snack – and to perhaps steal some of the wine you and the captain might have left behind. Only what they found was you slumped forward in a dining chair, Cabaji with his feet up sleeping and an empty bottle.

Lettie’s eyes had gone wide at your predicament and Marie nearly slit Cabaji’s throat. Immediately the two of them carried you to their room to let you sleep the rest of the night.

“And you forget, Greenie, that I know just as many!” Marie shouted.

The hangover you had was impossible to ignore. Lettie’s gentle hand nursed you back to health for the most part, but that blanket of pain draped over your head didn’t make it easy to get off your feet.

You kept thinking back to last night. The way his lips had connected with your skin lit a fire that you couldn’t put out. The places where his kiss landed on your body had left an imprint like steps on the sand. Every thought you had the whole morning fell back to him, and his hands, and his voice, and his kiss.

You almost regret pushing him away. Your head was swimming with all of the potential things you could be doing this morning had the night gone in Buggy’s favor.

His incessant need to have your allegiance was a subject you had no intention of ever budging. He kept you in a cellar on his ship as a prisoner, it’s not exactly strange that you wouldn’t want to join the very crew that imprisoned you.

“Captain wants her on land with him,” said Cabaji. “He said she has to be there.”

“Oh, come on!” said Lettie standing up from her place next to you and walking to the door. “What good will it do for Buggy to tote around this poor girl?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cabaji said with a mock confusion from the other side. “I didn’t realize we were staging a mutiny! Although, for you two surely that’s not a new concept. In fact, maybe I should remind Captain Buggy about your backstory? Hmm?”

They both looked at one another nervously. After that comment, you immediately stood – dizzy as you may be – and made your way to the door. Moving around Marie, you pushed the threshold open to see Cabaji standing there waiting for you.

“Leave them alone,” you said. “I’ll come with you, just let me get dressed. That okay with you?”

Cabaji just shrugged and leaned against the wall with a bored expression. Closing the door, Lettie mouthed an ‘are you sure’ to which you simply nodded and began pulling some clothing together from their crammed reserve.

///

Cabaji did as was instructed and escorted you above deck. The two girls followed behind under the guise of wanting to go into the town just like every other crew member.

Stepping out onto the deck of the ship, you looked out over the island. It was seemingly small, but with the amount of buildings stacked on top of one another you wouldn't have known it. Teeming with life in every direction, the little city was unlike anything you’d seen before.

The sight of land caused you to remember –

A small seaside town.

just big enough to spend time alone but small enough to know the names of all the residents. You were eleven years old again and walking the dusty road to the dock. The sun was setting through the beautiful trees and over the open pastures, the bridges on your path took you over sweet little streams reflecting the warm orange glow of the sky.

Nearing the rocky shore, you came upon the tiny dock. Stomping your little feet to the end of the planked walkway, you hopped onto a woman’s boat. It was a fishing ship, large enough for three to be comfortable but small enough to be sailed by one.

“I told you to wait for me at home,” said the woman. In your memory you saw her wearing your necklace. The beautiful antique moonstone pendant. She was putting away fishing nets with a swift precision only someone with intense experience could do.

“I got bored,” you said with a shrug. “I want to go out on the boat.”

“You know we can’t do that, it’s getting late,” replied the woman hardly regarding you and continuing her chores.

“Aw come on,” your youthful self replied, crossing your arms and dragging out all the syllables in a whine. “I want to go see them.”

The woman stopped, put her work aside and strode up to you. Gripping both of your shoulders she said in a serious tone, “just because they let you live that one time, does not mean that those monsters will allow you to live a second.”

“They aren’t monsters, they are my friends,” you responded.

“And I am your mother, and I say no.”

“(Y/N)?” Lettie touched your shoulder gently.

“Yea!?” you jumped out of your memory. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I just had a moment.”

She looked at you with suspicion. You looked visibly shaken like you’d seen a ghost.

“Okay, well, if you need anything,” said Lettie.

“Just call for us,” chimed Marie.

You nodded back at them in return. Cabaji, Lettie and Marie marched off the ship and down the dock to enjoy whatever the island had to offer. Watchinging them continue up the street, no one ran in fear or called for help, yet the three acrobats did instill respect. People moved out of the way, regarded their presence humbly.

The clothing you’d chosen was suitable for the warmer climate. A long patterned dress with a slit up the side was perfect for the tropical air. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t pick it with him in mind.

As you stood looking out over the side of the ship, you heard footsteps approach from behind you. You turned to face him. His expression was blank, no self important smirk, no drag of the eyes along your body, nothing. He simply stopped, eyes connecting with yours, and with a bored expression, looked off toward the town.

“Let’s go,” he said, making his way toward the ramp down to the dock.

“Hey!” you called after him from higher ground. He turned to look at you with a dramatic head turn.

Raising his eyebrows all he said was, “what?” in the most annoyed tone you’d ever heard him use with you.

You scoffed, mostly in shock at the way he was speaking to you. You’d been threatened, sexualized, and outright ignored, but never had he been this … this … petty.

“What is your problem?” you said with all of the accusatory intent you could muster.

“My problem,” he responded. “Is that you wont shut up and follow where I am telling you to go. Now Let's. Go.”

You were stunned, absolutely in shock. Your jaw hung open but no words came out all you could do was stand there and attempt to find the right insult to throw, but nothing came to you.

He simply chuckled at your astonished expression and continued down to the dock. The events of last night sat with him late. He barely slept and while the lack of rest certainly contributed to his mood, seeing you this morning looking like that made him a whole new level of irritated.

Deciding you had nothing better to do and nowhere to go, you followed him. Chasing after the clown you felt your feet finally connect with land, you said what you’d been thinking since you docked.

“I could run away you know,” you said over his shoulder trying to keep up. “There isn’t anything keeping me following you, I could just book it and you’d never see me again.”

He stopped quickly and spun to face you, the quick movement causing you to bump into his chest. He’d forgone his coat and hat opting to keep just the vest and throw his long hair into a bun high on his head. The shorter pieces fell down around his face and some tucked behind his ear.

“Then why haven’t you?”

His eyes had finally connected with yours and stayed there. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt exactly like what you’d been waiting for. Locked in his gaze you couldn’t think or speak, you just stood and let yourself search his beautiful green eyes.

“Yea,” he whispered for only you to hear. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up. “That’s what I thought.”

Turning away from you and continuing on his way up the busy street, you snapped out of whatever trance you were under. He spoke loudly enough for you to hear him as you followed behind.

“Plus, even if you wanted to escape nobody here would aid or abet you,” he detached his torso and spun, arms crossed to face you while his legs continued walking on their path.

Outstretching his arms, “I own this city!”

Taking the time to look at the buildings you passed and the people all around, you saw a spectacular amount of Buggy related iconography. His jolly roger hung in bars, on fruit stands, and hotel welcome mats.

“You’re joking.”

“Is it really so hard to believe that some people would rather live under the banner of a pirate than between the iron jaw of the Marines? Isn’t that right ladies and gents?”

When you both rounded the corner, as if on cue, a chorus of “That's right, Captain” fell sweetly from the mouths of a gaggle of gorgeous young men and women standing on the street corner. They were dressed in beautifully scandalous clothing. The name Madam Zell’s hung above the door of the dimly lit building.

“I love when they call me that,” Buggy said, shooting the group a wink before floating back to attach himself onto his hips.

“Know them?” you asked, feeling jealousy making a home in your chest.

An all too proud smirk pulled on his face looking over his shoulder to say, “intimately.”

You saw red. The gorgeous nymph-like gathering outside the bordello made you second guess yourself. He clearly didn’t have a type, the look of each individual completely different from the next. And yet, you still found yourself jealous of the beautiful individuals Buggy clearly visited.

“Almost there!” he called back to you.

///

After a few more blocks, Buggy turned into a skinny alleyway squished between two larger brick buildings. At the end was a heavy carved wooden door.

“Wait here,” he said, turning to you as he placed his hand on the knob.

“In the alley on an island run by pirates? Very funny clown,” you replied.

“Suit yourself,” he said, as the door opened into one of the strangest places you’d seen.

There were incredibly detailed scarves and lamps hanging from the ceiling. All around the room was bathed in different hues of light. The front foyer branched off into a few different hallways and rooms, from around the corner, someone popped their head out.

Their long lavender hair was pulled into a high ponytail, small circular glasses sat on the end of their nose, they wore a long black skirt, a dress shirt and a tailored waistcoat.

“Ah, Captain,” said the shopkeep. “And … guest?” Their eyebrow went up inquisitively and their eyes darted back and forth between you. They then disappeared into the other room.

“Who is that?” you asked

“Beau,” said Buggy. “Chemist, alchemist, fortune teller.”

“And we need them because…?”

“Because they have all the goods that I need to keep making my very special ammunition, sweet cheeks.”

From the other room on the right, Beau reappeared. Walking over to Buggy and handing him a small purple sack. They turned to address you. Their eyes were done with beautifully colored makeup that would put the blue haired pirate to shame.

“In case you hadn’t yet had the pleasure, Captain has an affinity for flashy projectiles. My alchemy produces the kind of ingredients he needs for –”

Beau’s face fell. They stared at you for a long moment, something that made you noticeably uncomfortable.

“You don’t even know what you can do,” they said.

“How did you –” you began before Buggy grabbed you by the wrist and led you to the door.

“Plans are just that, Buggy, plans. You can’t make anyone do anything,” Beau called out after you both. His comment clearly struck a nerve with the pirate as he stopped and turned around.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” said Buggy. “And it’s Captain to you.” He finished, pointing a finger in Beau’s all too relaxed face.

The alchemist leaned around their boss to speak directly to you.

“You’re going to have to figure it out for yourself. But, I suggest getting reacquainted with the moon … in your spare time,” Beau smiled. “I see a certain someone in your future taking up those nighttime hours.”

You were dying to know what they meant, you wanted to stay longer, ask more questions. If they could see the future, could they also tell you your past? Before you could open your mouth to speak, Buggy was pulling you out the door and back into the alley.

“Hey, no wait,” you tugged at his grip on you. “I want to go back inside, I want Beau to tell me more about myself.”

“And I want to get a drink,” he said, pulling you out of the alley and around the corner. You were able to get one last look at the door before it disappeared from view.

///

You sat on the small rooftop bar alone. Buggy had long since disappeared downstairs to one of the other floors of the nightclub to do whatever it is that pirates do best. Truthfully you had no idea what he was doing.

The night was beautiful. The bar wasn’t far inland, but it was also one of the highest points in the city. You could look down and see all the way to the ships in the harbor.

Like Beau had told you, you began to watch the moon. Surely it could tell you something about yourself. Unless, of course, the chemist was lying and working for the round nosed menace you can’t keep your mind from wandering back to.

“If I made a run for it, would you tell the clown?” you asked the only other lone soul in your vicinity.

The stoic bartender simply nodded his head and you rolled your eyes.

“Hey gorgeous,” said a voice you had hoped wasn’t directed at you. “Sitting all alone at the bar isn’t something a pretty girl like you oughta be doing.”

“I’m not alone,” you responded quietly.

The guy was twice your size and clearly used to getting his way. He started to lean over you, forcing himself into your personal space.

“You look very alone to me,” he said, leaning further into you. Out of fear, anger and god knows what else, you reached over the bar and picked up the nearest wine bottle before bashing it over the man's head sending him staggering back in pain.

“I’m going to run now,” you said to the bartender as you pushed yourself out of the bar chair and made a break for the stairs.

You ran and jostled your way through people right and left as you heard Goliath chasing after you. Each floor you’d sped down you would stop and look around frantically for Buggy before descending again at the sight or sound of your pursuant.

Eventually, when you realized the blue haired slacker was nowhere to be seen, all you could think to do was book it back to the ship and hope that climbing aboard would be enough of a deterrent for this ridiculously angry and frankly very insistent maniac.

Taking off down the street, the ship was insight, however, as you reached the docks, he had caught up with you and grabbed your arm.

“You pant little pant bitch!” He pulled your body to his face and spit his anger through gritted teeth. “Nobody gets a hit on me and lives, I am going to fucking kill –”

He is cut off by the view of a massive wall of water erupting behind you. The wave, stationary and towering fifteen feet tall descended.

You imagine the water encasing him, forming a barrier around his entire body. He floats there, in mid air in a sphere of ocean you created with nothing more than pure thought.

He is drowning. He tries to swim for the sides of his prison, the bottom, the top, but the current you’ve created is too strong. Eventually he stops fighting and you let the water go and crash upon the wooden dock hearing the thud of his body hit the deck.

Your body crumpling from exhaustion.

The last thing you hear is him calling your name. You catch a glimpse of the full moon as you slip into unconsciousness.

///

You stand in his quarters, still, and boiling with rage. All he does is sit in his chair and look at you. The tension in the room was thick as blood, something you coincidentally have on your hands.

“You should not have left me alone.” you say. “I killed him.”

“Baby, please, I kill people all the time.” He replied sticking to his petty nonchalance from early in the day.

Your eyes went wide daring him to keep talking. He shut up very quickly then.

“I don’t even remember what happened. All I can remember is running and when he caught me I blacked out.”

You paced in your spot of the room across from him biting your thumb and plastering a worried expression across your face.

Buggy knew exactly what you did, he watched the whole thing happen. He watched you call up the sea and use it to drown a man midair. But it would be a cold day in hell before you knew that.

Sea water might as well be poison to him. The devil fruit inside was responsible for his inability to swim and if you so happen to get a hold on those powers before you had a loyalty to him, he’d be a goner for sure.

“What happened?” you asked the pirate. His long hair down and shirt changed into a loose linen.

“You know I wish that I could tell you, doll,” he said from his relaxed position in his chair. “But I didn’t see anything.”

He had lied dozens, hundreds of times before and while on the outside it seemed no different, he felt an uncomfortable weight on his chest, like he could feel the lie pushing him down. The way you looked so out of control. This wasn’t like you. You were confident and strong and always trying to stay one step ahead of him.

Your body fell into one of the other chairs in the room. Your head in your hands, all you could do was sit there and feel overwhelmed.

Perfect thought Buggy. He may have felt bad but he wasn't about to go back on a plan, not one so developed as this. You were in the palm of his hand all he needed to do was squeeze.

The clown captain made his way over and knelt in front of you. You peeked at him from behind your hands.

“Let me take care of you,” he said quietly, running his hand up the side of your leg from ankle to knee.

Usually, you’d say no. Kick at him, demand a fight, challenge him. But him before you like this, begging in such a delicate way. You just wanted all the stress and frustration and fear to go away.

You nodded your head as he began to move the slit of your dress to free your left leg. He placed a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee and made his way higher, and higher. Soft lips connecting with your even softer skin.

Then you did something you’d wanted to do for so long. Between your hands you held his face and lifted him to your lips. Still kneeling before you with his hands moved to firmly grip your thighs in the chair, Buggy hesitated. The plan was just to eat you out, send you over the top with pleasure on his tongue, then discard you, make you beg for more.

But to kiss you ... could it possibly be so bad.

You ever so gently touched your lips to his own, teasing and testing to see what he would do, but he let you take the lead. Pressing your lips to his, Buggy was hit with a wave. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. The gentle supple feel of your kiss sent butterflies careening in his stomach. His chest felt tight and his pants felt even tighter.

He was used to the kinds of kisses that people share when they're just looking to fuck but never something like this, like you. It was addictive filling him with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not a want or even a need, a desire.

He could kiss you forever this way, his hands massaging up and down your pillowy thighs. You grew hotter pushing further into his kiss and moaning for more. This kiss, it was the kind that could seal the deal, make you love him.

But that was when he realized. He understood Beau’s fortune. He was already too far gone and losing control with every moment his mouth was on yours. He pulled away.

“Get out,” he said. His head hung in front of you still on his knees.

“Wha– What?” you questioned.

“I said get out.” He pushed himself to get off the ground and made for his desk to busy himself with something, anything that wasn't your body.

“Did I do something?”

He didn’t answer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

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gumnut-logic · 1 year ago

Text

“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.

International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.

With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.

Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.

There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.

The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.

It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.

Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.

But it was too late for the town.

It was gone.

Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.

Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.

It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.

The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.

He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.

Nothing could be done.

Nothing.

He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”

“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”

The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.

Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”

“Eastern side, southern corner.”

There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.

“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”

He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.

Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?

His shoulders dropped.

But then...something? A whimper?

Maybe?

Virgil began digging.

It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.

The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.

Aw, hell.

“John, lifesign is a dog.”

“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”

The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.

“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.

A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”

Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.

When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.

No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.

“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.

But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.

He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.

And he couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.

He looked down at her little brown eyes again.

No, he couldn’t.

Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.

Maybe for just a few days?

The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.

Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.

“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”

-o-o-o-

It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.

When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.

Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.

Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.

“What is that?”

Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.

“Bo?”

“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”

Bo let off a sharp bark.

Everyone jumped.

“What the hell, Virgil?”

Bo was literally glaring at Alan.

“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.

“Hey!” That from Alan.

“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.

Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.

She sneezed.

Alan snorted.

Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”

She licked his wrist.

“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”

“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.

Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.

“Shut up, Virgil.”

Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.

“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”

“Sorry, Bo.”

“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”

Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”

“Augh.”

“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.

Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.

“Virgil, where the hell are you?”

Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.

TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.

“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.

Bo fell asleep in his lap.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.

So tired.

Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.

Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”

“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.

“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.

His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”

The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.

Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.

Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.

The smile became a grin.

“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”

And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.

If he could hold off the sleep.

If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.

Bo started chewing on his glove.

Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.

God, that felt good.

As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.

He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.

He was asleep within moments.

-o-o-o-

He was being kissed.

Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...

Uh?

She licked his eye.

Wha-?

Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.

Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”

A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.

Ugh.

He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.

The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.

Oh god.

“Bo, down, honey, down.”

He was completely ignored.

Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.

He winced.

“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”

“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.

Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”

Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”

“She’s a rescue.”

“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”

“She had no one.”

“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.

Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”

Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”

“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.

Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Bo just licked him some more.

It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.

Ugh.

And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.

-o-o-o-

A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.

Since starting International Rescue it had changed.

Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.

There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.

There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.

As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.

“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”

Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”

John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.

His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.

“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.

“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”

“Since this morning.”

“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.

“He does.”

“And you still have it?”

“Her.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.

“She had no one else.”

John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.

“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”

“God, I hope not.”

Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”

John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.

“It will be fine.”

Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.

The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.

“I think you have been approved.”

John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.

“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.

“Incoming.” John was smirking.

“Hey, Grandma.”

But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”

Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”

Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.

“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”

Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”

Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.

A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.

Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”

“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.

Scott was glaring at him from a distance.

John smiled at them and drank his beer.

Bo started chewing on his collar.

-o-o-o-

As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.

Bo yipped.

Sherbert yapped.

And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.

Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.

But never out of sight of Virgil.

Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.

Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”

Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.

The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.

The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.

Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.

The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.

The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.

And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.

His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.

Scott sighed.

But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.

Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.

Scott found himself smiling.

Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.

Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.

The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.

Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.

But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.

They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?

He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.

Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.

Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...

Another sigh.

A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.

“Gordon!”

“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.

A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”

“Leave it, Gordon.”

His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”

“Gordon-“

“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.

“Gordon-‘

“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.

Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.

Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.

She jumped up and licked his nose.

Scott sighed.

Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”

Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.

“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”

He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.

“I really hope we don’t regret this.”

-o-o-o-

“PRESENTS!”

Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.

A sharp little bark.

Bo.

He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.

Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.

Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.

There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”

Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.

Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”

Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.

Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”

“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.

Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.

The result was immediate.

MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.

With Bo hanging on.

“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.

Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”

MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.

Virgil dashed after them.

Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.

All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.

A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.

Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.

“No!”

Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.

As he plummeted into the pool.

The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.

Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.

Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.

She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.

He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.

“You trashed the tree, Virg.”

“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.

And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.

-o-o-o-

“Only you, Virgil.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”

“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”

“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”

“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”

“You are still getting out of clean up.”

“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”

“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”

Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know that, Ow!”

“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”

“Bo ate one of my boots.”

Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”

“She’s a puppy.”

“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”

Bo yapped at him.

Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”

“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.

Ooookaay.

He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.

Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.

He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.

“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #christmas #nuttyfic reblog #bushfire warning for the first part #but mostly fluff

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 3 months ago

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.fairy tale aesthetics: brothers grimm version

Bold what applies to your muse and REPOST !

SNOW WHITE.

jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long-handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD.

a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from faraway lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS.

sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP.

wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

tagged by these loves: Don't remember. orz tagging more lovelies: @umbralsound-xiv, @hinganskies, @thefreelanceangel, @dumb-hat, @tiergan-vashir

Old prompt results below...

Because of several things that has happened to White since this was last done, I've been able to bold more things that fit! Still pretty similar at the end of the day.

SNOW WHITE.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

BLUE BEARD.

THE SIX SWANS.

LITTLE RED CAP.

#it's 5:20am and #I don't know how I'm still working on these lmfao #h a l p #♕ prompts — white rabbit

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a-love-like-yours · 1 year ago

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So if I don’t get an ending to season three with a cottage in the South Downs I will never ever recover.

I need a small little unassuming cottage surrounded by the most beautiful and well tended gardens with plants that grow unbelievably well, almost by some miracle maybe? But just rows and rows of the most beautiful and most verdant plants in all of England.

Stepping inside it will be just full of beautiful golds and yellows and greys and greens and reds.

There’s a small closet just down the hall that appears to be a coat closet, but when opened is a large library full of rows and rows of books. Whatever book you could ever possibly want can be found in this room. Collections of classics, the rarest books of prophecy, hand written poems seem to have a place on the shelves as well. And drawings. So many sketches and portraits of all the mundane and perfect moments of domestic life. Maybe of a certain demon tending the garden, or drinking wine by candlelight (maybe real, maybe battery operated), or sleeping curled up seemingly in the most uncomfortable position in the armchair, with his legs thrown over the armrests and his hair all flattened to one side (this is the angel’s favorite, though Crowley pretends to hate it).

And in the sitting room there is a large desk, maybe like the one that could be seen at one bookshop in Soho, with a seemingly out of place Magic for Dummies book half opened and a notepad full of notes laying out.

And across, nestled just past the armchair with the demon lazed across it, is the (infamous) love seat definitively from the bookshop in Soho. There are small comfortable windows with a beautiful fireplace nestled between them, though it does not get much regular use, and of course, not very far away and nestled into a corner, is a fire extinguisher always at the ready.

Then as you move further down the hall you’ll see beautiful art along the walls. And places for Crowleys beloved statues.

At the end of the short hallway you’ll find a beautiful kitchen. There is always delicious food and it never goes bad. Always fresh baked bread and tea at the ready, always small sweets and a home cooked meal waiting for friends.

Then down the stairs to the cellar, where is somehow never gets musty, or full of cobwebs, but always has cases of delicious wine and bottles of single malt scotch at the ready.

Then is you travel back up the stairs and to the other end of the small cottage you get to the bedroom.

A beautiful mix of gold and grey, seemingly something that might not go together, but works miraculously for the space. A small cozy and private place.

There are shelves of books and plants all throughout the home, with comfortable rugs and seating as well.

It is a retreat, a Heaven, a home.

And shared by an Angel and Demon who have pined and pained for over 6000 years and deserve the best of it all.

And I want it for them.

#they deserve so much better #they deserve all the happiness #they deserve the world #they deserve a little cottage in the south downs #a cottage with books and plants and wine and scotch and all the happiness #there were angels dining at the ritz #and a nightingale sang in berkeley square #good omens s2 #ineffable lyrics #david tennant #good omens theory #good omens s3 #good omens #neil please

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hypocratic · 1 year ago

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@corsey sent: "015. the wine cellar of a large mansion" for matthew.

Whatever Hannibal's intention was in asking Frederick to choose a wine from the cellar to pair with tonight's short ribs (twenty-four, Frederick counts, not twenty-six: the amount a cow possesses), it will, with great hope and evasion, remain unrealized. Frederick's first and immediate response was to request a chaperone under the guise of post operative care instructions to avoid stretching his abdominal region (where his month-old scar streaks above his navel perfectly along the median plane, puffy and red like a used, felt-tip pen); one of many excuses—real, generously over extended beyond the necessary restriction period, or fabricated entirely—he has recently employed.

Frederick encouraged Matthew to accompany him. He picked Matthew because he hasn't attended any previous dinner nights; Frederick suspects that means Matthew is new or he's a marinating victim—both are not beyond persuasion.

* * *

The room is windowless, of course. Any proper wine cellar is. Hidden beneath the edge of the wine rack, a set of yellow sodium vapor lamps quickly thin out across the grid of wines, the light never reaching the floor. It is an elegant, prideful attempt to display but not spoil his collection.

White wine, Frederick thinks, should be safe. He glares at the wall, eyes slipping down column after column of dark colored glass. Far darker than what it is they hold. Like they're concealing the liquid rather than merely protecting it. Most of the bottles' necks are half-dipped in a thick, prominent red which Frederick briefly, fatuously wonders if it could possibly be blood.

More and more irritated: "Red, red, red." Frederick pivots his weight around his cane to tilt his body, then his head towards Matthew. With zero intent to clarify: "Full-bodied has never been more comprehensively true than here... at his dinner table. I will be drinking water." His look is suggestive and urging, the expression held long enough to ease his own conscience but short enough it's unlikely to elicit any real wariness. Frederick pats his buttoned suit over the section his scar extends, not quite grateful for the incident but grateful for its unexpected resourcefulness. "Doctor's orders."

He glares at the wall once more. Face slack. Stuck conspiring in this secret charade. He spots an un-dipped bottle slotted several feet higher than his reach. It's very old; he knows: he has one in his office—a colleague bought him it. He points to it with his free hand, a casual wave of his finger, hand lower than shoulder-height because further effort isn't needed. It's obvious. "That one. I recognize the label. And it's older than he is."

#you probably anticipated this being in matthew's mansion but no. we're in hannibal land baby #ic #corsey #corsey. 001 #corsey: matthew.

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dailyopulence · 2 years ago

Text

SEARCH FOR MISSING WEREWOLF UNSUCCESFUL

Locals are dismayed after search efforts to rescue werewolf, Zack Fowler of the Sumerki Orda pack were unsuccessful. Fowler had been taken by a monster in a tragic attack at the Town Center weeks prior. No body was found but within the tunnels underground the town, one of his shoes was discovered and identified along with muddy pools of blood which were sent to the forensic department. We received confirmation the blood collected at the scene belonged to Zack Fowler and officials have declared him to be deceased. Our thoughts go out to Fowler's family and the pack for their loss. We at The Daily Opulence urge everyone in town to be careful during these trying times.

Discord event log under the cut...

“I think we’re mostly gathered, rite?” Ryden glanced about, counting heads and feeling glad to see that most who’d been asked had answered his call and there didn’t seem to be any last minute cancellations. “Guess we best git this shit o’er with, eh? Try not to separate from the group and wander alone, duck yer heads and watch where yer goin’. Everyone got good shoes, flashlights, a snack or two and their water on ‘um, yea?” He glanced over the group of people he spoke to, some five pack members standing at the tunnel entrance, two of which were in their wolf shape as due to the magic triggered on Founder’s Day this was the only time they got any benefits of sensitive smell, hearing and eyesight of the animal they turned into.

The entrance to the tunnels was first found in a winery cellar, among shelves and racks of bottled up and barrelled wine, a huge hutch cabinet now moved out of the way to reveal a brick-framed, three-men wide hole in the wall, opening up to a gaping, dark passage whose end could not be seen or winding direction predicted. Everyone was handed over a copy of the map that had the so far discovered passageways drawn down but there were many unknown areas which they might be finding out about for the first time tonight. The tunnel itself can let thee people pass through shoulder-to-shoulder but not more, and it was obvious that they would have to move in a line.

Some part of Roman wondered what he was doing there, he was not part of the pack and not particularly well liked amongst the group, but when Alpha asks for help Roman could hardly say no.

"So we're stayin' as one big group and not splitting up?" He questioned curiously.

“That’s what Ryden said didn’t he?” Cass snapped back at Roman. He was clearly on edge, tension emanating from his body and the way he stood upright, forgoing his usual slouch for these signs of anxiety, as if he felt he needed to be ready to fight at any given moment. Maybe he did, he didn’t really know what he was signing up for - only that he’d do whatever Ry instructed. And precisely none of what anyone else suggested.

He too wasn't part of the pack, however he felt involved due to the person who was missing being a werewolf to. That, and he thought Ryden might want the backup of an older wolf in case in got hairy - this is what Rafael used to to, after all. This was nothing compared to shuffling through a corridor barely wide enough to fit yourself in, the plan to ambush an enemy.

Of course, he stood with his arms crossed, face contorted into only a half shift, eyed yellow and features the sharp ones of a wolf. "Splitting up might work but we have to consider the more experienced of us versus those that aren't," he noted.

"I meant t'say to not wander off all alone. Get a buddy t'tag along with ya, so ya can git lost t'gether." Ry clarified for Roman, lips pressing into a tight line at seeing Cass snap back nervously.

Looking back at Raf, he nodded, the older werewolf always spoke reason. "We can delegate that."

"Fuck me," he mumbled under his breath hearing the screeching sounds of Cass's voice and already regretting his decision to join. Especially when Cass's face was just begging to be punched.

"Tell me where ya want me."

"Wanna make sure one of the gal's got a proper company?" Ry pointed at Elora and Mia, knowing very well that Roman would probably rather walk away than team up with Cass. So maybe ask him to take care of things where he might also be more inclined to stay calm.

A smirk formed looking over at the two ladies and he nodded. Ryden knew him well enough that if he was paired with Cass, one of them wouldn't make it out of there.

"Sure, I could do that." He simply stated.

The outburst from one of the younger wolves towards Roman smelt of something else, looking at him and then Ryden to not so subtly suggested maybe an alpha's guiding hand would be more useful in this situation than anybody else's. Rafael was happy to be paired with anyone though, he had a need to make sure Elora would be safe. That's what mattered to him, the safety of others. "We should still check in. If a situation proves too dangerous, a howl might be useful to rouse backup,"

Ry gave Raf a little shrug, Cass is as Cass does, there was very little he could do about it and likewise for Roman. But he got the message well enough, and will probably make sure the young werewolf is not all on his lonesome on this adventure. "Unfortunately, there hadn't been many conditions or opportunity t'set up sum sort of TTE, so I guess a good holler would hafta do, yea. But jus' keep in mind. We dunno if them beasts're lurkin' about. Don't howl and make too much noise 'nless ya absolutely gotta."

Not saying anything else, Roman stood there quietly. Back in the military, he had several co-op missions to save people. But that was over twenty years ago. He just waited for direction one which way Ryden wanted his group to go

"Oh yea, also. I got this... paint for ya'll. It's fluorescent. Shed sum flashlight on it and, like, it glows. Once we git beyond the tunnels marked on the maps we all got, ya can mark the walls on yer way and find yer way back easier f'ya notice yerself lost." He motioned for one of the five packmates with the group, one that wasn't in the wolf form, to hand them around.

At Ryden's instruction, he took the containers of paint and proceeded to pass them out to the groups and returned close to Ryden's side once completed.

Once everyone got their little cans of paint, Ry nodded, feeling pretty much as ready as he could be. "Last chance to go tinkle er sumtin'. I think it's gunna take us a few hours to move about. So mebbe we're good t'go. 'Nless anyone got any more suggestions of course?"

He was silent thereafter, arms simply crossed over his chest in waiting with a container of paint now dangling off his wrist. Rafael had no other suggestions, ready to track a missing innocent and rip and tear if needed.

Preoccupied trying to draw a penis on the wall nearly as soon as he was given the paint, Cass was shocked into submission by Ryden’s next statement, pausing to shrug. “I have nothing to add.”

With the paint in hand, he started to head out with his group in search of the missing werewolf. For the most part he stayed quiet not wanting to say what he was thinking which was this was a lost cause.

"A'ight then." Ry let the two packmates who were in wolf form go first and ahead of everyone, so they could sniff out the ground and see if they could pick up a trail to follow. People would have to line up with most of three walking side by side, maybe four if they didn't mind their shoulders touching.

First thing to notice upon entering was a considerable temperature difference. Even the cellar itself, which hid the entrance to the tunnel, was considerably colder in comparison to the above-ground. The dampness was palpable, the air near the entrance less thick with it but the deeper they would go in, the more the smell of rotting earth and mold would invade, no draught or a breeze of fresh air to move it. The walls and ground around them were nothing but bare earth and rock, dug out raw to create this narrow tube that lead deeper into the bowels of the earth, under the town. Above hung sparse thick roots like veins, dripping sticky water and soaking up the earthy ground, making soles of footwear sink into the mud they treaded over. Flashlights illuminated far enough ahead to make sure steps are kept careful, but not far ahead enough to know what exactly awaits them.

Abraham's broad shoulders were brushing up against another's and so he ended up falling a bit behind the others, allowing them in their pairs and groups to walk in front of him, making sure no one was lingering too far behind. "I don't like this," he grumbled under his breath to no one in particular. Werewolves underground. Bah. They weren't dwarves.

“What do you like, Abe?” Cass muttered, although his sarcasm and grumpy demeanour was mostly just his covering for his nerves and rampant anxiety, and there was little bite to the statement. “It’s fucking freezing in here,” he added, pulling his jacket closer around himself. “And I can’t see shit.”

Abe tapped his flashlight against Cass' head, "I like beaches. I don't like caves. Use your flashlight, genius."

"It's a tunnel, not a cave. Of course it's cold and dark. And ya can all go back if you'd like. This is volunteer work." Ry tossed that over his shoulder at the two men with a sharp grin.

"Shouldn't have asked numnuts over here to volunteer." Roman murmured annoyed by the younger werewolf and hoping the groups would eventually splinter off soon.

“My name’s Cass,” he offered under his breath, “but I don’t expect a dementia patient to remember.” Still, he shut up, deferring to Ryden’s authority and making the effort to try and curb his urge for more rude remarks. “Alright, Abe, well I’m terribly sorry there’s a werewolf who might be in the tunnels instead of sunbathing on a beach. I’ll be sure to let all the dark forces of Opulence know that we’d prefer a sunny location next time.”

"And the contest on who's the biggest numnuts begins..." Ry rolled his eyes and muttered to himself. "Should win that one, give you all some grief for a change."

"Good on you for not forgetting your name, Cass," Abraham responded blandly, his gaze now turned down to a map in his hands to check on their current location.

With a heavy sigh of already feeling tired although it hadn't been more than fifteen minutes since the group had entered the tunnel, Ryden continued on, moving behind the two wolves taking the lead at the front, their snouts low over the earthen ground so they could try and pick up any scent whatsoever. They advanced ahead rather smoothly, yet things may not go quite as easy for those on two legs. Ryden could feel his steps slowing down, the disgusting feeling of wading through mud getting harder to ignore. With the next step, he had to actually jerk his legs out of the almost tar-like wet earth to continue. And then, he suddenly stumbled, feeling himself sink a few inches. "The fuck..." He cursed softly, knees jerking to try and release his combat boots from the muddy hold but all he was doing was disrupting his balance without budging an inch. "Watch it! Got sum serious mud 'ere! Shit... M'stuck..." He warned those behind him.

Amber || Roman, Thad, Santi — 05/29/2023 7:58 AM

The older werewolf could feel the pain radiating through his bodes everything he took a step forward through the mud. Exhausted would be an understatement, but the man had his pride and wanted to prove he could keep up with the young bucks. "You okay Alpha?" He questioned from near the back, not seeing Ryden getting stuck from the people in the front of him. "Fuck," he grumbled hearing Ryden about the mud.

They bickered and talked amongst themselves though Rafael responded and said very little in return, focused completely at the task at hand. The sudden humidity of the place was stifling, eyes looking around for any hint of movement, on high alert the entire time. Hearing that Ryden was stuck up ahead in the mud, tuning out how uncomfortable the bog through it was. "Don't wiggle," he responded. "Can you get out or d'you want me to drag you?"

"Uh..." Ryden hummed as he was asked whether everything was alright, still processing the fact that now he could be stopped in his tracks by a bit of mud. Except it wasn't a bit, it was soft underground earth that soaked in the days of rain they had in the past couple of weeks, a force to be reckoned with. Ryden froze at Rafael's advice, trying not to wiggle too much. "I mean, if I can't wiggle, what am I supposed t'do then?" Fact was that the werewolf was heavy, and he was now feeling himself sink, mud reaching almost past his shins. "I think it's sum sort of a sinkhole pocket where I stepped in..."

"Wiggling only makes you sink faster," There was a certainty to his words, as if Rafael had somehow come across a sinkhole before, even though he was just parroting what he'd heard before. "Relax. Hold out your arms, we'll pull you out,"

"M'relaxed, m'relaxed." Though by his elevated voice, more shouting than takling, Ry's annoyance at this was pretty darn obvious. He tried to turn a little, reach out his arms so whoever could would be able to give him a pull, while at the same time he tried not to move around too much. His sinking slowed down a bit but if they prolonged moving away from here, the mud would reach up to his knees.

“You want a hand?” Cass was fidgeting, evidently uncomfortable with the whole situation, though his tone of voice remained casual, uncaring. “I don’t like this,” he added, which was an understatement, more the comment you’d make with regards to a colour or song, versus the overall eery atmosphere they found themselves in.

"Yea yea and it's spa day for me, this is what I wanted, a mud bath." Ry gave Cass a look, then waved a hand at him. "Take this one and Raf will take another one and pull."

Roman just remained near the back with the women figuring Rafael had it handled with Ryden and not so secretly hoping the mud would take Cass.

"Got it," Rafael confirmed as Ry agreed with his idea, not sparing the other wolves a look as he waded more towards the front of their cobbled together pack of wolves, grabbing one of Ryden's strong arms with his own and looking at Cass. "On 3, ready?"

“Ready,” he said slowly, arm reaching out to take Ryden’s free arm, stepping a little closer to provide more traction as he did so, glancing at Rafael to confirm when to begin tugging.

"Uh, be gentle. I need all my limbs." Ry looked from one man to the other, preparing for their joined forces to give him a pull he needed to be freed.

"One, Two, Three," And with that, Rafael began to slowly pull at Ryden's free arm, face set in concentration, jaw clenched. Ryden was heavy - all that muscle.

He did his best to bend his knee up, first one leg to try and pull it a little loose and then eventually out and then the other, helped along by the two men pulling on his arms. He cursed not having his werewolf strength at the moment. But it was working, he felt the earth give in and one leg and then the other were finally released, making Ryden lurch forward and he would've kissed the ground face first if it weren't for Cass and Raf holding him up. "Fuck... I ain't doin' that ever again. Guess we should go around this, stick to the wall until we pass the sinkhole by."

"Watch your step, mind the mud," Abraham warned to the group of werewolves, making sure all of them knew to bypass it and then helping some of the less coordinated ones around it, "Tuck in against the wall," offering the occasional words of guidance to help move them along safely and then marking off on the map with a smudge of dirt around the location he figured they were at right now to indicate where it was so on their way back out it didn't catch them by surprise... just in case they were needing to leave quickly.

Having walked around what seemed to be a naturally created mud trap on their way with no larger consequences of having stumbled upon it besides one werewolf getting his feet unconfortably wet and not being a happy camper about it, the company continued on, walking for a while longer in relative silence and focusing on their steps with more care, until the two wolves ahead seem to quicken up, having picked up on something. "Seems like they caught a scent." Ryden announced, feeling something akin to a little flicker of hope. "Where are we at accordin' to the map? Is it close t'where he'd been dragged under by the creature?" He inquired at no one in particular, more thinking outloud than anything else.

“You missed the mud, then?” Cass observed to Elora, noticing the lack of muck on her as she approached, a little behind the others. “Ry got stuck. We had to pull him out, it was fucking awful.” Complaints stated more as a way for him to make her smile, distract from the tension of the situation, he turned back. “I’m not good with maps. Sorry.”

Ryden had called the pack together and Elora had had every intention of getting to the search early, but she'd slept over at Fionn's, completely distracted by him and the brunch he'd made for them both. She felt guilty, but she was here now, casting a quick grin and a nod in Cass' direction. "Stuck? God, is he okay? Ryden?" she asked, stepping forward towards her pack leader, concern on her features.

"Yea yea, jus' need new boots after all dis shoite." Ry grumbled back at Elora's question, the whole situation just making him crankier than usual. "It wasn't that much of a big deal Cassidy, Raf pulled more than you did." He snorted at the other young wolf, his attempt at breaking the tension that was surely building up in the group. "Chin up, everyone. We seem to have a trail."

Roman not much paying attention, given he was several people behind looked over at Elora and smirked. "Been awhile, doll face."

“Hey, I helped. What gave you the strength to come out from the Pit of Despair if not my beautiful face peering down at you?” Cass suggested with a grin, before rolling his eyes with conviction at Roman. “Grandpa’s at it again. Maybe we should stay on track? Before some pretty girl smiles at him and gives him a stroke?”

Abraham looked down at his version of the map then looked up, pointing his flashlight up at a gaping hole in the dirt and rock ceiling above them where it looked like something had burrowed up, large claw marks indented into the facing of the wall but the depth enough that there was no visible sky above head, only indication it possibly led upwards to fresh air and surface was a slight hint of fresher air coming from the hole. "Keep your eyes open everyone."

"Fuck off dipshit, before I hurt you again."

"Ya did, kiddo, ya did. I jus' thought for a second ya might've stopped eatin' meat again." Ry snort-chuckled, turning to check what Cass was talking about. "Pfft. Elora can say no when she wants to. I ain't fussed." He had all the confidence in El that she would be able to handle Roman in any way she saw fit. He merely rolled his eyes when Roman bit back poisonously. "Charmin', old man. Lookit all o'us swoonin'." He then focused on Abe, who was the only one being useful at the moment, following his gaze up to the gaping hole overhead. "Yeap, dis is the spot." He lead the way further, his flashlight targeting the road ahead and the two wolves following the scent.

Abraham noticed Elora was without one of the cans of paint which he had passed out earlier that would glow in the dark, meant to be used to identify their path like breadcrumbs so he passed his own to her, "In case we get separated. Don't get lost."

What had happened between Roman and herself was not something Elora wanted to think about, and them sleeping together was not something she'd divulged to anyone else, not even Jean-Claude. She cast a half-smile in Roman's directon before scarpering up to Rafael's familiar form, looking up at him with a much more genuine grin. "Hey," she hummed, turning as a can of paint was thrust in front of her. She took it and nodded gratefully, looking over at the wolf who had given it to her. "Smart. thank you."

He kept quiet, not wanting to sustain much small talk when two of their gang seemed to be overly volatile and enjoying in winding eachother up. Rafael didn't like the element of unpredictability the younger and older seemed to bring with them, simply staying alert for anything amiss. Ready to rip and tear.

Though - Elora soon caught up to him, yellow eyes looking over at her and he grinned, mouth full of teeth. Sharp teeth to. "El," he greeted her.

"Looks like a fork in the road up ahead," Abe announced, looking from his map and then to the dark path ahead of them illuminated solely by the meandering stream of numerous flashlights. "Which way?"

He’d been wandering ahead for no apparent reason, and now Cass found himself separated from the group, barely noticing the fork in the path as he entered on the right side, presuming everyone was going that way. Attempting to spray a paint circle to show himself the way back, he realised he was out of paint - his own fault, and he didn’t think too much of it. He’d probably find his way back.

Ry simply looked to the packmates in wolf form, one of them giving Ry a look back before he just trotted to the left, his companion soon following. "Everybody left! That's where the scent we got goes!" He announced to the people behind, not yet realizing that one person in the company was no longer able to hear him.

Just following the bodies, Roman moved forward through the tunnels. As he came to the fork, he went left but had an errie feeling that something was off.

Wandering along, certain that at some point the path would lead him to the others, Cass swore the tunnel was getting narrower and narrower, and with it his heart felt like it was squeezing in just as much, beating harder in his chest. His flashlight was barely providing much, only a couple feet in front of him of visibility, only adding to the feeling of being boxed in - and when he tried to look back, his view of the twisting path behind him wasn’t much better, and he realised he must have gotten himself lost away from Ryden and the rest of the pack. There was little choice but to keep going, although he felt uneasy even walking a step further.

Something felt off, Roman couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was cause there wasn't an annoying voice that sent shivers down his spine rambling on. Who knows? "Do we have everyone? Seems a bit quiet."

Ryden paused as Roman voiced a concern that perhaps not everyone was accounted for. Flashing his light back at the group to make sure he recognized faces, he began counting, muttering names under his breath. "Uh... Cass? Where is Cass?" That was the only face he was missing. "Cass, speak up! Shit... When was the last time anyone'd seen Cass?"

Roman rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Of course it was dipshit that was missing. No wonder it felt somewhat peaceful the last few minutes. "Fuck," he grumbled. "Dipshit, you better not be fucking around." He said in a serious tone, just in case Cass was being a dumbass per usual.

Glancing around as best she could in the dark, El's eyes widened, searching for the familiar figure of her friend. "He wouldn't. Not in this situation. I think he's- I think he's gone.

Roman didn't believe Elora, he figured Cass would do something idiotic. However, given the situation he decided to keep that to himself as not to upset anyone.

Thankfully, Roman had experience with extraction and figured everyone should keep going with the mission and he would go back. After all, you never leave a man behind...no matter how annoying he can be.

"I'm gonna go back and retace the steps. Y'all keep going."

"Ugh..." Ryden reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, not believing his crappy luck - they were barely in and already had so much trouble. "Hey, Martin, go keep Roman company." He said to one of the packmates in wolf form ahead of them. "He can track Cass scent for ya, if needed. Alicia will stay with us." Alicia being the other werewolf currently in wolf form. Martin trotted over to Roman, tail wagging, looking up at the older man and ready to follow.

Elora was reluctant to let Roman head back after Cass, especially when he so clearly didn't like the younger wolf, but there wasn't much she could do. "You want me to stick with you or go with them?" El asked, looking up at Ryden for his instruction.

"Whachoo gut instinct tell ya you should do, El?" He asked, knowing that despite all his faults, Elora would be safe with Roman if she wanted to go.

"Alright Martin, let's head out." Roman looked over towards Elora. "You coming sweet cheeks or staying wit' the group?"

"I think- I think it might be good if I went with them-" she managed, tilting her head in Roman and Martin's direction. As easy as it was to seek Ryden's instructions, she appreciated that he was putting the ball back in her court, teaching her that she could in fact trust herself. "I just think that- yeah. He might need calming down," she murmured, nodding slowly. "It's Elora old man, watch your tounge," she chuckled softly, punching his shoulder lightly as she moved towards him.

Ry nodded approvingly at Elora's decision. "Abe and me will be markin' our way with the paint so ya guys can catch up later. El, permission to slap whoever misbehaves." He tossed a wink at her, this more of a joke than being serious.

"Slap...spank. I'm good with both," he winked teasingly. "Yeah yeah, hot stuff." He called her when she told him her name. Anyone who knew Roman knew he didn't use names of everyone.

"Alright, let's go fall back." With that he allowed Martin to go ahead of them and started walking next to Elora.

The two groups separated, one continuing on down the left path while Elora, Roman and Martin retraced their steps to go into the right side of the split in the tunnel under Martin's guidance. It didn't exactly make Ryden happy to have this happen but this was exactly why he'd invited multiple people to do this with him. At least they could all cover unexpected situations. Falling in line with silent Rafael, he spoke to the man in a low voice. "What do ya think? What are the actual chances of findin'... anyone here, really. Ya heard what sort of a beast attacked, rite? Ya think... the person we're lookin' for has any chance of survival?" He asked, having his doubts, considering Rafael the best person to really share them with. Best be realistic. He was aware from the start that finding anyone alive down here would be nothing short of a miracle. But miracles did sometimes happen.

Some went to look for Cass, the young wolf who'd somehow gotten lost and Rafael couldn't understand how. Still, he glanced over at Ryden as he spoke in a low tone, inquiring about chances of survival. The wolf had mulled the situation over, of course, eventually responding with an honest; "I think we're just doing body retrieval," he said back with a shrug. "Which is important, in its own right, for families to grieve. Our best case scenario is he hasn't been horribly mutilated. Our worst is no body at all or only a few scraps of one. Either way, we need to put the beast down. I think that's a bigger priority, saving more people from the same fate,"

Ryden nodded somberly, knowing that Rafael, as always, spoke reason in the most pragmatic, down-to-earth sort of way. "I don't think we'd be able t'do that - not exactly loike we brought any weapons. But at least we'd be able t'give the ERT some more info 'bout the tunnels." He sighed, reminding himself to keep the flashlight directed ahead properly, so he wouldn't lose sight of Alicia tracking in front of them. "Shit... I barely even knew the guy, and he was pack. Seen 'um around but never bothered t'even remember his name proper. Guess I gotta now, at least for his funeral..." He trailed off, mouth hanging open to almost ask something more of Rafael but instead he just huffed out a chuckle. "Thanks for always helpin' me, mate. Ya would've been so much better at this than me. Wish I had yer head on me shoulders."

"Oh, I came for a fight," There was trace amounts of humour in Rafael's tone if you knew where to look, as he really had just come to be extra muscle. It felt good to punch, to rip and tear in moments like this, to completely give into the animal. He listened to Ryden talk, sensing something else was amiss and reaching out to carefully pat the alpha's shoulder. "Hindsight. Means going forwards you can try to know your pack better," he said back with a nod and not a trace of judgement in his voice. Sumerki was a large pack, quieter members were bound to just be there. "Nah. I wouldn't. They respect you, they'd disobey me. Too much of an old man," he joked in response. "Thats what I'm here for, to help,"

They took off back the way they had come, Elora trailing behind Roman and Martin - and then, she caught a whiff. The scent of Cass, familiar to her. "He's definitely this way." Her feet sped up, overtaking the two men as she trotted ahead, following her nose back down the dark path.

Ryden grinned sharply at Rafael, the man speaking his language with the determination to fight, even though it was said jokingly. "Well, plan is, those with the scent catch anythin', we shift and outrun it. S'why I asked for wolves only. But I shift slow, so I'll lag behind. Want a good fight? Lag behind with me, we can take it on." Because honestly, there wouldn't be a greater honor then getting in the line of fight with a man like Rafael. He nodded more seriously at Raf's next words, mistakes and oversights meant that he'd just have to work harder in the future. "Well I don't know, I've been hearin' some pretty darn good feedback from those patrols ya did. People rely on ya, even if yer not pack. Ya ever been in one b'fore?"

Ryden had it all figured out, the fight to come and a grin stretched out upon those wolfish features - that's why he'd prioritised a half shift so it wouldn't take as long. Rafael wasn't used to the praise given, especially by the alpha, and considering he wasn't a pack mwmber. "Must be my charm," That dryness was back. "Hm. A long time ago, yes. I was a second in command," Perhaps that's why he was good at advising.

"Yeah, he does have a particular smell to him." Roman mumbled as he walked with Martin and Elora. Although, there was some concern from the older wolf he refused to show it. "Slow down sweets, we don't need another missing wolf."

Ah, things now made sense, Ryden always trusted his own gut instinct and that same instinct was also a very good judge of character. He always knew there was something about Rafael, not just the seriousness and maturity of an older man, but experience which Ryden never had too. He snorted at Rafael, grin stretching wider, prominent canines always present eerily white in the dark of the tunnel. "Charm's needed for any position of command. Ya ever thought ya could do it again? Bein' an advisor to a pack?"

The offer was there, Ryden asking without explicitly asking what he wanted - Rafael as an advisor. The elder hummed, could he do it again? It had been nearly 20 years since he was last in a pack, and it had ended...well. Terribly.

Was he ready to be that open again? With young wolves who needed guidance, and an alpha who needed support? Ryden wasn't Conor. Would never be.

"I don't know," at least it was an honest answer. "Maybe. I'd need to think about it. Got bags I haven't unpacked,"

"Sure." Ryden gave that response a non-committal shrug, in no rush for a final reply or any reply really. "Was jus' puttin them cards on the table. Ya already help me out a bunch. Might as well git proper credit for it too. Might not help unpack any bags but hey, those are yers alone t'rummage through anyway. And while they sit unpacked, perhaps it'd do good to jus'... focus on other shit when ya feel up for it. Like so much shit, mate. I mean." Ryden waved a hand the way they came from, apparently pointing out the trouble the pack regularly put him in. Like getting lost in a place where it's of utmost importance not to get lost in.

By this point he’d found his way into some sort of dead end he couldn’t quite figure out where to come out from, and the walls seemed to be closing in on him, space getting smaller and smaller, his ears ringing to the point where he didn’t even hear Roman’s voice as the pack members drew nearer, didn’t register their scents or presence as he sank down onto the floor, distressed.

"Slow down," he insisted once more with Elora not wanting more people to get lost. What was with kids today? Always in a damn hurry.

With the flashlight in hand, Roman noticed a figure on the floor and sighed. "Let me check him," he insisted not sure if something happened to Cass and he didn't want Elora to see just in case. As he eased down, his bones creaked and he felt a slight pop in his knee causing him to wince. "Cass is that you? Are you okay?" He questioned softly, telling the other two to take a few steps back so Cass could breathe.

He might ordinarily have made some comment about the audible pop of Roman’s knee, but Cass barely even heard it and instead settled for a defeated nod, not yet looking up at the older man though. “I’m fine,” he lied, voice shaking and betraying his dishonesty. “Just… I don’t know. Being a dipshit, right?”

There was an inkling that Cass was not okay, but Roman was trying to be nice and didn't want to point it out "well when aren't you being a dipshit?" He commented jokingly in hopes of lightening the situation. "Are you able to breathe? Can you stand up? Do you need help?"

“I’m fine,” he hissed, immediately regretting the tone of his voice as if concerned for once that he might have angered Roman and really not prepared to deal with those consequences. “I’m not hurt, I don’t need help,” he continued. “I just … I’m not big on small spaces,” Cass admitted, an understatement. “Just give me a second.”

Roman sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as he used the wall next to them to try and stand up, his knee now throbbing. "Yeah," he murmured already annoyed and wondering why he even gave a shit.

Relieved that they had managed to find Cass pretty easily, Elora stayed back to allow Roman to inspect the younger wolf, listening anxiously to their exchange. She could hear in Cass' voice that he was not okay, and as Roman stood she stepped forward, kneeling down beside Cass. She didn't speak, instead just slipping her hand into his, the gesture secret from the others, covered by the dark of the night around them.

After giving Raf a pat on the back, grateful for the talk they've just had, Ryden suggested for the group to take a 10-minute break where they were at, just to catch a breather and make sure they stay hydrated in this humid, stifling air and to also give the other group that split apart to look for Cass a better chance at catching up. Ry moved to stand where Abe was, studying the map the other man had in his hands, noting that they will soon reach a part of the tunnel maze that was not yet explored. "Think we'll have t'start seriously markin' our way after we reach the end o'the map." He commented, bulky arms folded over his chest.

He'd keep it in mind, the offer of life again in a pack. It wasn't that Rafael hadn't enjoyed his old one - god, the dog soldiers had been like family. It was the loss that made them fall apart, his failure as a second in command, the need to run away to escape his grief. Could he handle it again, loss like that? The boy who'd been taken was not kin to him but, he knew he would treat them as such. For someone so stone-faced, Rafael had a large heart.

He leaned against a wall of the tunnels, glancing back as the others caught up. The air seemed to grow more stagnant, humidity causing sweat to bead on his brow.

"Agreed," He said in response. "I wonder if there are any other exits in these tunnels,"

Abe responded with a soft grunt of agreement that they'd need to mark the tunnels and also the map soon. "Probably better if we don't split off. Too dangerous when we won't know what to expect ahead." Then to Rafaeal, "These beasts have to be using more than one exit to get out of here," referring back to the hole in the dirt ceiling a while back which wasn't where they had entered and presumably they were capable of making a new exit for themselves at any time. They on the other hand... might not be so lucky.

Ry glanced back at Raf who raised a good question an then Abe, who answered it very realistically. "The first attack at that bar was in the evenin'. Was it the same for the second one?" He asked, having not caught that particular detail when he heard about it all. "If both were, mebbe it's safe t'assume the monsters're more active at night? We started pretty early in the mornin'. Should make sure we're out well b'fore evenin' t'day."

After the pop in his knee and standing back up to put some distance between Cass and himself, Roman could feel the radiating pain as he tried to breathe through it as he used the tunnel wall for support. "C'mon, get off your ass dipshit. We have to catch up to the group."

"Yeah, good idea," nodding as he glanced at his watch to determine in his head how much longer before sunset they would have to explore the tunnels.

"Yanno, usually also, creatures like these may be pretty sensitive to light... And fire." It was a shot in the dark for sure but hey, when you had zero info, you had to get inventive and just cross your fingers for the best. Ryden shrugged off the full backpack he'd been carrying all along, unzipping it wide open to show a plethora of road flares, firecrackers and fireworks. He grinned wickedly, like a kid showing off the goodies his parents told him he should absolutely not play with. "I didn't share these yet cause, well, we got peeps who'd soon blow their fingers clean off than use this proper but might help, eh? If it got eyes, they can't be fire-proof either way."

“You’re so kind,” Cass said sarcastically in response to Roman, although he got up obediently, staying close to the older man and to Elora, still uneasy despite their efforts to reassure him so his distaste for Roman became outweighed by sheer panic and fear forcing him to use Roman as a protector. “Which way they go?” He turned to shine his flashlight and was immediately startled by an odd shadow appearing despite it being simply a trick of the dim light, causing him to bolt as close as Roman as he could, seeking protection.

For a moment, Roman tried to be nice to Cass when the younger wolf was on the ground. However, the moment Cass opened his mouth it caused him to remember why he didn't like Cass in the first place.

Once Cass stood up, Roman huffed as Cass stood near him as they headed down the tunnel to catch up with the others. "The correct way," he mumbled through the pain with each step. Roman continued to use one hand against the wall to sturdy himself as they made their way towards the others.

"For fuck's sake, why are you getting so close?" He questioned Cass beyond annoyed with the kid.

Abe peered over at the firecrackers Ryden displayed wickedly and let out a booming sort of chuckle. "Knew you had something up your sleeve."

“Just stay near?” Cass asked quietly, his tone carrying no malice or snark this time as he remained close to Roman, even offering his own hand to steady the older man. “Please?”

Usually, Roman would have pushed Cass away or hell even punch him in that punchable face of his. However, he knew he needed to set his personal feelings for the guy to the side for Ryden's sake. For whatever reason Ryden has a soft spot for the dipshit that Roman still couldn't wrap his head around. And there was the fact Cass clearly had some trauma dealing with dark closed in areas and needed some comfort.

"Ain't like I got any place to go," he responded. Roman sighed heavily and didn't take Cass's hand because of his own pride. "I'm right here, don't worry."

“Alright,” he said, voice a little shaky as he followed Roman’s lead no matter how slow the other was going, unwilling to go in the lead. “I’m not worrying,” he denied despite the evidence clearly pointing to the contrary.

For the most part, Roman remained silent as Martin led the group back to the main group. Occasionally, he looked over his shoulder to check in on Cass. Despite a lot of anger towards the kid, he didn't actually want the kid to be traumatized. He had seen firsthand how some people respond to trauma.

"I mean, sure, I can try punchin' the shit outta anythin' that may come at us but will it work now? I'm outta woof juice. Back to bein' all human again. Can't rely on jus' that." Ry explained to Abe with a slanted grin, then zipped the backpack up, turning around. "Damn, where are those four? How far did Cass wander off?" But then in the beam of the flashlight, Ry could see Martin slowly padding over on his silent paws, and soon after the other three following behind. "Was thinkin' I had to send a search party for the search party. Everyone a'ight?" He asked, though some annoyance could still be noticed in his tone.

First thing Roman wanted to say was what a dumbass Cass was and how he should have just stayed home. However, he kept his mouth shut on that front. "C'mon Alpha, you send Martin and me out. You know we'll find our way back." He simply stated. After all, this search was about finding one of Ryden's packmembers and ultimately that was what mattered. "Have y'all seen any signs of anything? Something to indicate where he is at or if he is still alive?"

"No doubt there, jus' felt like ya were takin' yer sweet time. Must be this place. Feels like everythin's standin' still, even time." If Ryden said that being underground wasn't unnerving even to him, he would be lying. "Nothin' so far, but if we continue on, mebbe we'll get sumwhere. Fingers crossed. Everyone good to continue on?" As he asked, he also gave Cass a good, hard look. The young wolf will get Ryden's piece of mind about this later, out of everyone's earshot. For now, seeing him back and alright would do.

Abraham offered Ryden a nod that he was good to keep going, the map ready in his hands to mark up their path as they ventured on from here.

He could feel Ryden’s eyes on him, not to mention Roman’s, varying tones in the two but both gazes Cass wasn’t in any hurry to meet, staring down at the ground and fidgeting awkwardly, evidently ashamed at his little outburst and hoping to put it behind him. “Yeah let’s just keep going.”

Roman remained silent about the comment on taking their time to return to the main group and followed suit as they headed further into the tunnels, his knee still throbbing from earlier but he tried to block it out.

"Well alright then, try not t'look so excited ya'll..." Ryden grumbled at all the gloom that had now befallen the group, turning around to follow the two wolves ahead who would be continuing their tracking for as far as it would lead them.

Unfortunately, soon after, any scent or trail which had been used for guidance would be almost impossible to distinguish due to the intense scent of rot and decay, so acrid and palpable it felt like it was leaving a film over their tongues as they inhaled. The more they continued, the grotesque scent only grows worse until it reaches a thickening point, even the air is clouded and filled with spores that suspend in the air when the lights from their flashlights hit them, appearing as if they had walked into a fog.

Continuing down this tunnel would reveal that the one three-man wide space was incrementally growing smaller, barely noticeable at first until those on the edges began to scrunch their shoulders in to avoid contact with the walls. Soon it would be necessary to fall into an even thinner line, two-men wide, then finally only one could lead the way.

The walls felt like they were squeezing in again. Cass dropped behind the rest of the group as the tunnel began to narrow, eyes wide and glancing from side to side as if he anticipated being jumped at any moment, to the point where the slightest shadow was enough to make him flinch. “Are we sure this is the right way?”

It felt as if the walls were coming in on them as the passage way got narrower. Hearing Cass, he let out a sigh. "Yeah kid," he commented. "You okay?" Roman was a lot of things, but he wasn't going to make things more difficult for Alpha or add onto any trauma that Cass was having.

"If we ain't, we'll find out eventually." Rydeb said, mostly focusing on leading the way ahead, having also pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose. Silver lining, at least he did not have his sensitive sense of smell while he was still human-shaped.

Abraham was all but holding his breath to minimize the amount of disgusting air he was inhaling, even without any werewolf enhanced senses it was horrible just on a human level. "What is this smell?" He asked but part of him didn't want to actually find out. He had to keep his arms tucked in close in front of him and even still his broad shoulders were rubbing against the dirt walls now.

It was quickly becoming too small to sustain the pack, eventually being forced into a single line as the air became thick with rot and decay. The scent was enough to cause Rafael's eyes to water, to gag slightly- he was glad that nobody saw him. Though shorter than many of the present wolves, he still found his shoulder scraping against the stone walls, taking bits of his shirt with it. "Death" he responded to the question, mostly keeping quiet as he soldiered on.

Hearing Rafeal made Jeremy's shoulders hunch up close to his ears. He gripped his flashlight so tightly that his knuckles turned white and despite the coolness of the underground tunnel, sweat had collected over his brow and upper lip and dripped down the back of his neck and made his hands slippery so he had to keep wiping them against his jeans and over his shirt. He tried to grip his flashlight again after doing so but it still slipped from his fingers and landed with a dull squelch into mud. He huffed out a breath, paused walking to pick it up, anxiety rising because now they were forced to walk in a line he was holding up those behind him to pick up his flashlight so he tried to do it quickly so no one would scold him, hurriedly scooping it up despite the mud on the handle and carried on walking, discovering a few paces forward that the mud was dark red.

“I’m fine,” Cass practically hissed at Roman, the lie obvious before he had even let it leave his lips, his entire body so tense that it was a wonder he didn’t just tip over like a corpse, albeit one with a heart thumping so loud it was hard to even hear what the other wolves said. “Let’s just live quickly.”

He'd rather not, but something told Ryden that maybe Rafael was right. The distinct stench didn't seem to only be undeground stale air full of mold, spores and moisture. There was something else there and even a human sense of smell could not miss it. Ry let out a low whistle, alerting the two wolves ahead of the rest of the group, who also had to walk one behind another to accommodate the change in tunnel size, to slow down and be careful. It didn't seem needed - they had already done so, not looking too well, their senses overwhelmed. Ryden therefore squeezed through so he was the one walking ahead of everyone now, flashlight pointed forward, neck of his shirt covering the lower part of his face.

Finally, the tunnel seemed to widen again but it did not encourage fresher air nor an escape from the deep rot which had settled into the very earth. Now two dark paths would become visible ahead. The left tunnel narrow like this one and the same rotten stench wafts from it. The right tunnel appears to be wider and it may open up further, the smell of rot is lesser there.

Abraham inspects his map but isn't sure which way to go down. "I don't think we should separate," he commented, not mentioning that this opinion was in part due to Cass but also in part to the intense scent of decay. It would be best to remain together from now on.

The older werewolf remained silent, annoyed by Cass being so flippant with him when he was trying to be nice. The stench that filled his nostrils made Roman somewhat sick to his stomach, his mind going back to when he smelled the similar scent when he came across trenches of murdered families from his time in the military. "We cannot search every tunnel unless we split up." Roman commented. He do whatever Alpha wanted, but if they split up they would cover more ground.

"Sumtin's... not right." Ryden muttered to himself at first, peering at the two dark paths ahead separating the tunnel, trying to see past the meager patch of light his torch cast ahead, then raised his voice a little so everyone could hear him. "Martin and Alicia can't track no more. Can't anyone smell this? Sum kinna undertone to it, smells like... rottin' meat and... stale blood..." He really didn't want to say it because now that he did, he could smell it even more, even through the fabric of his shirt.

Jeremy felt a pit in his stomach churn. He smelled it and when Ryden announced it, it only made it worse. The tunnels didn't feel like a typical underground passage anymore. It felt like a tomb filled with dead bodies they couldn't see. He looked grim, expression difficult to discern in the darkness of the tunnel, shadowed starkly by the harsh lights of the flashlights but it told them all his thoughts. There was not going to be anyone alive down here.

The idea of splitting up seemed to be a contentious one, the group stuck between a literal rock and a hard place. Rafael kept that stone face, just glancing ahead to barely see the two tunnels, the smell taking him back to a place of death and rot. The left tunnel was smaller, tighter, and claustrophobia wasn't one of his issues. "I'll take the left," Rafael was confident that he could handle himself, and the scene that might be there. He didn't wish any of the younger wolves present to see something that would most likely scar them. "I don't mind going alone. Spare you all whatever's in there,"

"I'd rather no one went alone." Ryden was on board with what Abe suggested, not liking the idea of anyone facing anything that waited ahead on their own, even if they were as reliable and hardcore as Raf. "We take the narrower tunnel. Who thinks they ain't got the stomach for it, they can wait for us t'git back here. That's the only splittin' up I'll agree to. If we can't agree, we all move back and git the hell outta this hellhole."

For the moment, Jeremy waited to see if anyone would volunteer to stay. He did not want to go down that tunnel but he also didn't want to be the only one staying behind and would ultimately go wherever the pack went. Not really seeing anyone who said they wanted to stay, so far, he sucked in a breath and readied himself for whatever would await them down the tunnel.

With the group having agreed to take the left tunnel, they proceed onward with the stench of decay growing in intensity until it coats their throats. Continuing on down the narrow tunnel reveals a dead end. Rock walls had crumbled and formed a collapse that is impossible to pass through.

One of them tried to move a rock to bypass the collapse but the earth audibly groans. A large rock rolls to the side and a lone battered shoe is discovered. One of the shifted werewolves sniffs at the shoe and indicates with a lowering of their head and flattening of their ears against their head that this was the source of the scent they were following, it must have belonged to the missing werewolf. Another werewolf in their human form tried to move another rock but the walls shuddered again and fearing another collapse of the tunnel, it was decided not to proceed any further but the fate of the missing werewolf seemed to be decided and hope of recovering even their body was lost.

It was with a melancholic and defeated air that the group began to leave the tunnel, leaving behind the dirt and blood in favor of fresh air and open land.

#opulencenews #disturbing imagry tw #death mention tw

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