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cas-skz · 1 year

Note

🤣 I'm laughing at your snow plow man flirting, but in a "it's cute" way.

Wait, this is a fic! It's Lee Know, you're the final street on his route. He likes shameless flirting and he comes back after his shift in 30 minutes to see how much hospitality he can wring out of you 💀

Thank you so much for this lmao it was actually so fun to write!!

18+!! Please&thanks!! MDNI

warnings: cursing, drinking alcohol, boobie play, petname - pretty girl, dirty talk, protected sex (crowd gasps)

“Stupid fucking winter, stupid fucking snow!” You yelled as you lazily pushed the snow off your walk way. It was the first major storm of the season, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

You had finally made it to the end of your driveway when the snowplow turned the corner, daring to add more snow to the already large mountain at the end of the driveway.

You groaned quietly as you backed up, only to slip on ice and land flat out on your back. “I. Fucking. Hate. Winter!” You yelled, throwing your arms out beside you.

The loud beeping and bright of the snowplow stoped in front of your house, the sound of the squeaky metal door opening. “You okay?” He yelled, you couldn’t hear him.

“Hello?” His face popped into view above you, offering a hand to help you up.

You furrows your brows at the stranger, but took his hand and pulled yourself up, brushing the snow off your coat.

“You okay?” He asked again, his soft brown eyes scanning your face.

“Physically fine, mentally hating every single thing about winter.” You kicked a snowball with your foot.

Leeknow laughed, shaking his head as he glanced back at his plow. “Ya, I guess I don’t help with that.” He looked back at you and extended a hand. “I’m Leeknow.”

You yanked your glove off and shook his hand. “Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but check out the man in front of you. He was extremely attractive, to hot to be driving a snowplow, but a job was a job.

“So, no boyfriend around to shovel for you?” He asked with a tilt of the head.

You huffed a laugh, “Even if I did, they wouldn’t do this. I have a history of picking leaches.”

“Leaches?” He laughed

“Yea, men who just stick to you and suck all your worth.” You shook your head, feeling slightly embarrassed by your own remark.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me up. I’ll appreciate you until you make more snow for me to shovel.”

Leeknow motioned with his shoulder towards your house, “Go warm up, I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded, “It’ll take me two seconds.”

You smiled widely, “Thank you, so much. I owe you a drink.”

“I’ll keep your word on that.” He smirked, giving a little wave as he turned back to get in his truck.

You watched from the window as he cleared the snow for you, even getting out to make sure it was perfectly clean before heading on his way.

You grabbed some fuzzy pj shorts and a matching bralette, throwing it on and pulling in your house coat over it. You relaxed on the couch with a white claw, chatting on the phone with your phone as the tv played in the background.

“I haven’t hooked up with anyone since you dragged me out last summer and I got wasted.” You laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “Besides, I’ll get some dick when I get some, there’s no rush.”

“Hey, maybe plow guy will come back to plow you.”

You rolled your eyes, holding the one to one ear as the doorbell rang. “Shut up! I’m not gonna tell you about the cute guys I meet if you think we’re going to fuck right away.”

Grabbing your wallet, you opened the door expecting a food delivery person. Instead it was Leeknow, with a 24 pack of drinks in hand.

“Hey…I’m gonna have to call you back. Leeknow is here.”

You went to hang up the phone, just as us ur friend yelled “plow guy?!” Loud enough for him to hear.

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, as you threw your phone onto the couch. “Sorry, I thought you were my Chinese food.” You mumbled for a moment before raising an eyebrow at him. “Wait, why are you here? Do I owe you money for clearing the snow?” Your second question was filled with sarcasm.

“You said you owe me a drink.” He held up the case of white claws, “I brought some, just in case you didn’t have any.” He said with a wink.

You shook your head with a laugh, stepping aside to let him in. “If you try to murder me, I have a witness that you were here.”

“Am I that scary looking?” He asked with a smirk, kicking off his shoes as he glanced around the room. “Fridge?” He asked holding the box of drinks to you.

You took it and motioned for him to follow you. “I have some chilled already.”

Turning into the kitchen, you noticed Leeknow had gotten distracted by your cat. “That’s Taylor.”

Leeknow joined you a moment later, “Your cats name is Taylor?” He asked with a laugh, leaning up against your center island as you opened the fridge for him to see the drink options.

“Yes. I did not name her, and she refused to be renamed.”

After a few minutes of chatting in the kitchen, the doorbell rang. You started towards it, but Leeknow stopped you. “I’ll get it.”

It caught you off guard, in a good way.

He came back with the food a few minutes later, setting it on the island. “And now I’ve bought you dinner.”

You blushed a deep red, biting your lips before grabbing two plates and passing him one. “Lucky for you, I can’t pick one thing, so there’s tons.”

The two of you chatted while you ate, laughing and telling stories. You didn’t end up eating very much since he kept the conversation flowing. But you definitely had a good buzz on.

“So, how would you say our first date is going?” He asked, gathering the dishes and cleaning up a bit.

You sat back in your chair, watching him easily move around your kitchen, asking where certain things went and insisted you just relax.

“Honestly, probably the best one I’ve had. I’m comfy as heck, didn’t have to go anywhere and I laughed a lot.”

“And what about the guy? What do you think about him?” He asked as he stood at the sink, washing the plates you had used.

You shifted a little in your seat, taking a drink as you checked him out from behind. “Great ass.”

“Thank you.” He laughed

“Did not mean for that to come out, but you’re welcome.” You laughed quietly, biting your lip.

You tried your best to ignore the butterflies swirling in your stomach. Something about watching a man being domestic drove you mind into the gutter.

“He’s funny, super sweet. My cat likes him which is a big thing cause she doesn’t like a lot of people.”

He turned to look at you, a smile on his face as he dried off his hands. You didn’t notice before, but they were beautiful in their own way, perfectly lined with popping veins.

You took a long drink, the warm effect of the alcohol taking over your body, “and what did he think about the girl?”

“She’s smart, very pretty. Likes to color and draw, which is super cute.”

You took off your house coat, completely forgetting that you only had minimal pjs on.

“She’s also got a great body.” He choked over his words.

You looked down at your body, giggling a bit. “I guess you’re lucky I have something on.”

Your filter was basically gone at this point as a result of the alcohol. You lazily lofted the housecoat back over your shoulders.

The two of you made your way to the living room to continue chatting. Leeknow had a few more drinks and you, against your own judgment, had another one.

For some reason, this man who was just a stranger a few hours ago, made you feel safe and happy. It felt like you’d known each other in another life time.

You curled up next to him to watch a movie, his arm draped around you, his fingers gently rubbing your shoulder.

When a sex scene came on in the movie, you bit your lip hard. As if the drunken sexual tension wasn’t enough, you were picturing Leeknow fucking you like the guy on screen.

His fingers came to a stop as the scene got more intense, the girl was being called slut and you couldn’t help when a smirk pulled at your lips.

“Whatcha’ smiling about?” He whispered in your ear.

“It’s kinda hot.” You looked up at him for a quick second, eyes trailing to his plump lips before darting back to the tv.

Leeknow hummed, his fingers starting to move again, this time slipping under your bralette slap.

His touch gave you goosebumps, and you swore you could feel his eyes staring you down.

“I don’t want to sound lewd, but my eyes haven’t been on the movies all that much.”

You slid your hand onto his thigh, squeezing a bit, “well what have you been looking at?”

Leeknow moved a little closer, his hand moving down your chest, running along his fingers slowly across the hem of your bralette.

“Oh, I guess they are quite out there.” You looked over at him, “I can put them away if you’d like.”

“Please don’t.” He said with a smirk, licking his lips.

You repositioned on the couch, sitting cross legged facing him, “Do you wanna touch?”

Leeknow laughed shyly, a dark red tinting his ears. His hand started to move, but bypassed and cupped you cheek instead.

He pressed his lips into yours, gently at first but deepening it when you kissed back.

As the kissing intensified, his hands started to wander over your body, caressing the exposed parts of your skin.

You moved to straddle his lap, earning a soft moan as you felt his semi hard cock under you. Your hand trailed down his firm toned chest, across his abs to lift his shirt.

Your eyes looked over his body, ogling at how good he looked without a shirt. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Leeknow’s hand rested on your thigh, running under the bottom of your fuzzy shorts, slowly sliding up.

You slowly slid each strap off your shoulder before pulling your bralette off, your breasts bouncing freely.

“Says you.” Leeknow said smirking, both hands cupping your breasts. His fingers ran over your erect nipples, twisting and flicking at them gently “You like that?”

You nodded and moaned softly, feeling your wetness start to soak your panties. You rolled your hips against his, grinding roughly.

He hummed happily as his lips went back to yours, gently kissing before he worked his way down your chest, sliding his tongue every few seconds.

His mouth sucked gently on your nipple, tongue swirling and lapping at your sensitive bud.

You gasped quietly as his mouth moved, biting down and sucking hard at the skin of your breast, slowly leading to the other nipple.

“I’m so fucking wet for you.” You say in a moan, scooting back a bit on his lap as your hand ran over his bulge.

“You want that cock, pretty girl?” He asked, pulling back as his fingers slipped under your shorts and panties. His fingers ran slowly over your clit before be carefully pulled them back, admiring the release on his fingers.

“Well” You started to undo his pants, tugging them down a bit as you freed his cock. It was much bigger than you though. “How else am I going to thank you for dinner and plowing?”

Your hand started to pump slowly, with a twist of the wrist when you reached the top. His fingers went back to your pussy, his thumb pressing into your clit as two dipped in your hole.

“You sure you want me to stretch out this tight little pussy?” He asked, his eyes on you as you reacted to his touch.

You tilted your head at him, your hand stopping at the top of his cock. Your thumb ran over the tip, collecting a little of his pre cum before bringing your thumb to your mouth and giving it a little suck.

“Afraid you’ll like it to much?”

Leeknow’s three fingers worked away, pumping your entrance and moving his thumb slowly. He looked up at you, pulling your face towards him. “I already know I will.”

You roughly kissed his lips as your hand trailed down his length, massaging his balls gently.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?” You asked against his lips, your walls starting to tighten around his fingers.

Leeknow slipped his hand from your shorts, wrapping both arms around you to stand up.

You giggled and wrapped yourself around him. “You keep this up and I might want to keep you.”

“Just feed me twice a day and I’ll pretty easy to handle.”

You directed him to the bedroom, where he climbed onto the bed with you still under him.

“Do you have a condom?” Leeknow asked as he kissed you, yanking down your shorts.

You turned over, leaning across the bed to the side table, unaware of how exposed you were to him.

He groaned quietly behind you, his fingers running along your entrance. “You’re fucking killing me.”

You gave your butt a little wiggle, digging through the drawer. “I swear there was some in here.”

Leeknow moved up behind you, his cock resting against your throbbing entrance. He leaned up behind you, “back corner” he pointed.

You held his cock in place, moaning softly at the feeling of his length against your clit. Your hand reached to hold him in place and you started to grind against him.

Leeknow groaned loudly, his teeth biting into your shoulder. His dick barely fit between your folds it was so thick, so long that the tip rested culled in your hand.

“Fuckin’ shit you feel so good.” You moaned, feeling your body shake gently, a gush of liquid running down your legs. You hand found Leeknow’s, passing him the condom.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already making a mess.” He repositioned you on your back, moving between your legs as he rolled the condom on.

“I’m sure I’ll have to sleep in the spare bedroom.” You giggle, biting down on your finger as his length started to poke at your entrance.

He leaned down, inches away from your face as he pushed in a bit. “What? You’re kicking me out already?”

You tried to steady your breathing, feeling him stretch you out, making you wetter with each stroke.

“Because I know after this,” You start, your hand trailing down his cheek and flicking off his jaw. “I’m going to want more of you.”

He thrusted slowly as his lips pecked yours, his own moans making you more aroused. “I already want more of you.”

Leeknow’s lips found yours, kissing you roughly as he started to pick up speed.

You moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in, moving along with yours.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He whispered.

Your walls clenched around his length, wetness staring to drip and trickling onto Leeknow.

He held your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, your body shaking under him.

Something about his lips were so addicting, the way they moved so easily with yours. How sweet he tasted.

He pulled back a little, just to look down at you. Smiling softly down at you, “You’re so pretty, and super fucking cool.”

You blushed hard and smiled at him, “Clears my snow, pays for dinner, fucks so good, and now complements?”

You leaned up to kiss his lips, gently pushing him back to climb on top. “Good luck getting rid of me.”

Leeknow looked at you with gazing eyes, watching as you lowered yourself onto his cock, “Please fucking stay.”

His words gave you goosebumps and a chill ran up your spine. You leaned down to kiss his lips, the unexpected butterflies made you smile into the kiss.

“I can be all yours.” You whispered, your hips slamming down into his. Your fist balled on his chest, feeling his cock start to firm.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, both your and Leeknow’s breathing becoming more and more erratic. “Cum for me Leeknow.”

His hips started to thrust into yours, cursing as he gripped onto your skin.

You laid your head on his shoulder as he slammed into you, your moans turning into whimpers as you felt his cock throbbing inside you.

His arms wrapped around your body, a hand rubbing your back gently.

“You ready to sleep?,” he asked, pressing kisses into the side of your head.

You whined quietly, hiding your face in the neck more. “Can you carry me to the spare bedroom and cuddle me?”

It was mostly a joke, but Leeknow didn’t take it as one. He slid out from underneath you, rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash before scooping you up.

He plopped you on the bed, pulling the covers over you before climbing in and taking you into his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to drift to sleep, the warmth and comfort of Leeknow making it easy.

You woke up still in his arms, “Hey you.” You say wuietly.

Leeknow smiled at you, kissing your head. “Hey pretty girl, sleep well?”

You kissed his arm, “I did actually. How about you?”

“Probably the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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How about a one-shot about shinobu and her partner spending Christmas together?

Snowed In

Shinobu Kochou x They/ Them Reader Modern AU

A/N: Wanted to make sure I got this done before Christmas. Also made it a modern AU because it spoke to me more. Hope you like it, thanks for reading! Word Count: 995

“Snowed in on Christmas,” (Y/n) groaned, looking out at the hazy grey skies and fresh snow still being piled up outside, “couldn’t it have at least waited until after we made it to Kanae’s?”

“The roads should be safe by tomorrow. We can celebrate together then.” Shinobu rationally supplied. She was a little disappointed, but not as much as (Y/n) seemed to be.

“Yeah…” (Y/n) laid flat across the couch, looking devoid of all holiday cheer.

Shinobu smiled sympathetically and came to sit on the edge of the couch, resting a hand on their back.

“We have each other. We can still have a good Christmas, (Y/n). We can do most of the things we usually do and then run it back tomorrow with everyone else.”

(Y/n) perked up a bit. That did make them feel a little better. They rolled over to look up at Shinobu.

“Really?”

“No, I lied. No happiness for my partner. We will sit in silence and not even look at each other.” Shinobu spoke sarcastically.

(Y/n) took the end pillow their head had been resting on and slapped Shinobu with it.

A struggle for power over the pillow ensued which ended with (Y/n) on the floor, muffled voice begging for mercy as Shinobu pressed the pillow against their face.

“Let’s make something special for lunch. We can put something on for background noise while we work.” Shinobu sweetly suggested once she had been persuaded into sparing (Y/n)’s life.

“Can it be a Christmas movie?”

“As long as it’s not one of those dime a dozen romances, I don’t mind.”

“Aww why not? I thought you liked making fun of them at the very least.”

“I do, but it’s more fun when Kanae’s there to try to defend them.”

“She is oddly protective over them, isn’t she? Hmm, how about this one?” They pointed to the synopsis of one of the movies that had caught their eye. “It sounds like it would be right up your alley.”

“A movie about Krampus? Yeah sure, put it on. Unless you think you’ll be too scared.”

(Y/n) stuck their tongue out at her before pressing play and rejoining Shinobu in the kitchen.

***

“I don’t know… someone seems a little jumpy since the movie finished.” Shinobu teased.

“I only jumped because you tried to scare me when I came out of the bathroom!” (Y/n) refuted. “That would startle most people even without watching a movie like that.”

“Do you think you’ve been good this year, (Y/n)? I’d hate for Krampus to come take you away in the dead of night.”

“Well he missed his chance by almost three weeks. Bedsides, if he was going to take someone away, it would have been you.”

“I’m nothing if not a perfect, upstanding citizen.” Shinobu grinned.

“Hey,” (Y/n) happened to look out at the steadily darkening sky, “the snow stopped.”

“So it has. We should be good to go tomorrow.”

“Yes!” (Y/n) pumped their fist then jogged to the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shinobu asked, watching them put on their boots.

“Let’s go out in the snow for a bit. It’s been a while since we’ve seen this much.”

“Mmm, I think I’ll pass. While you’re out there though, you should shovel the walkway.” Shinobu suggested.

Shinobu was not a fan of the cold, snow especially she did not care for. It was pretty to look at, but not fun to be in, especially when manual labor was involved. Being cold, completely soaked in slush and sweat, and the way her hat completely messed up her hair, a hard pass.

“What? Shinobu, you have to help me. There is more than two feet out there.” (Y/n) sniffed, “What if I break my back and by the time you came to look for me, it started snowing again and then you didn’t find my body until spring?”

“At least you would be fairly well preserved.”

“Shinobu!”

“Alright, fine.” Shinobu groaned, sitting beside (Y/n) to put on her boots as well.

Once they were all bundled up, (Y/n) struggled to open the door, wiggling it back and forth until the gap was wide enough for the couple to slip through. They took their shovels in hand and cleared the walkway down to the sidewalk.

Shinobu’s arms burned a little and she couldn’t feel her toes, but at least now they could go back inside and—

Fwpssh!

“Hey!” Shinobu spun around to glare at (Y/n), who had another snowball waiting for her and hit her in the chest.

Shinobu knew a declaration of war when she saw it and she would not surrender. She knelt down and began scooping snow into tight balls and (Y/n) frantically began to do the same. When Shinobu was pleased with the amount she had made, she began to mercilessly pelt them at (Y/n) who could hardly return fire during the onslaught. They wondered if Shinobu was using ice or rocks instead of snow because of how devastating each blow felt.

When Shinobu ran out of snow balls, she dove for (Y/n)’s pile, but (Y/n) tackled her into the deep snow, pulling her hat down over her eyes. Blindly, Shinobu reached up and managed to find the ends of (Y/n)’s scarf. She wrapped her fists in it and began to tug the ends in different directions.

It was unclear who truly won the battle, because they both looked like they had seen better days. They were completely disheveled, soaked and shivering as they shuffled back into their home.

But after a relaxing, hot bath and a change into some warm and comfy clothes, they felt much better. They picked something else to watch and shared a steaming beverage while they exchanged gifts and kisses, cuddled up under a thick, soft blanket.

It wasn’t the Christmas they had expected to have, but being able to spend it together was good enough for them.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho #shinobu kochou #requests #anonymous

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chxrrylime · 1 year

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❝ heaven is here if you want it. ❞

I wanted to share another OC tidbit. This one is a small exploration about the relationship between the captain and Grim, and also fleshing out Grim's characterization.

Price x FTM!OC Grim ↪ 603 words — WIP

Grim’s eyes were shut, facing toward the showerhead as the cool water ran down his sore and battered body. It trickled across his stinging cuts and aching bruises, soothing his roaring thoughts to a white static, as all pain did.

He hadn’t realized he was shivering until he could feel heat emanating a few inches behind him, the shift of an arm reaching past him to fidget with the shower controls.

“You’ll give yourself hypothermia,” Price’s gruff voice murmurs, hot breath fanning across Grim’s neck, making him flinch.

The man’s voice is honey soft but never smooth—comforting in ways Grim desires and equally fears.

It’s nostalgia, memories buried past years of suffering—of a small frame in a too big jumper, little hands clasped around a steaming mug of apple tea, honeyed and with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Flushed nose and cheeks and blue fingertips, warming by the fire after a long day of shoveling snow off the drive.

The water slowly warms until the captain deems fit enough to step fully into the spray along with the shorter man. He places large, calloused hands on Grim’s hips, his thumbs rubbing in little circles against the pale skin.

It’s not intimate, never is, but it’s familiar. It’s not romantic, and it’s not love—love is always just outside the door, looking for a way in—it began as an arrangement, not a proposition, and became a burning habit.

Price had been clear when he’d offered.

Holding the highest rank of a non-commissioned soldier had its perks, but a private washroom with his quarters wasn’t one of them. The captain didn’t see the black ink like the others, and so he knew, and he offered his own private shower Grim’s first day on base.

“Don’t mistake this for what it isn’t,” he’d said, voice low, leaned up against the front of his desk as Grim stood in a loose parade rest before him, “first of all, the boys wouldn’t give two shits what bits you’re packing, but 141 isn’t the only team on base, and I can’t speak for everyone. Secondly, this isn’t a proposition. There’s no give and take here. You get my shower if you want it and I get my peace of mind. Understood?”

It took four months for those rules to change. The captain was a stubborn bastard, but equally so was Grim.

The shorter man released a shaky exhale, turning in Price’s hold, the warm water tickling his spine as he blocked the spray. Price’s hands remained steadfast on his hips, and Grim’s own spanned up the plane of Price’s stomach, palms flat against the furry, tanned skin as he smoothed up and down the muscular torso, feeling not too dissimilar from petting a horse, he thought for a brief moment.

His ever-present dead expression shifted minutely, the corner of his lips twitching up for a mere second, and Price smiled softly in return, staring down at those big, blank gray-green eyes that refused to meet his own.

Price wasn’t hard, and Grim wasn’t aroused, despite the attention they gave each other��s bodies, smoothing hands over scarred skin, digging calloused fingertips into tense muscles, pressing kisses to collarbones and shoulders.

They’d had sex before, of course, only quick and dirty in the sense of its context, no matter how thoroughly and deeply Price worshiped Theodore's body, always taking his sweet time.

This, however, was a practice in contact, an exchange of warmth. Under all the pain, Grim yearned to touch a body that wasn’t bleeding or cold and stiff with rigor mortis, and Price, despite the consequences, was something of a romantic.

#mine #modern warfare #captain john price #original character #price x oc #grim

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steampowered109 · 1 year

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Hello world!

First post ever! I thought that maybe sharing this was a good start. Hope this motivates me to write more... I've been thinking about the name. Maybe "Playing with fire"? I dunno. Hope you like this 3 and ½ pages worth of chicken scratches!

Prologue. Frozen.

The floor is cold. The air is cold. Everything is. And the worst part is that it's the one that sticks down to the bone.

I let go of the pickaxe on the floor and rub my hands together, trying to contain the shivers. Luckily, blowing on them makes the small layer of frost that covered both disappear. It won't be long until they're covered again.

With more energy than before, I pick up the pickaxe again and I go back to hitting the stone surface under my feet. The rock is unusually flat and smooth, too flat in color and without any kind of strata. This has to have been built by the Ancients.

Small shards jump out from the points of contact, but that's about it. With a sigh, I hang the pickaxe from the loop sewn into my backpack, exchanging it with the shovel. After warming my hands again, I start to dig.

The dirt, frozen hard, it's difficult to crack but easy to take out after cracking. I slowly uncover the stone's edges. The color is uniform and it has an unnatural cubic shape. Jackpot. But, how do I take it out from the floor? It looks like it weights a ton at the very least.

While I think about the problem, The rope around my wrist tightens and pulls once. Instinctively, I grab the rope and pull once too, signaling that I was okay and still breathing. Once again, I feel a pull and then, the rope loosens slightly.

I need to work fast if I want to go back safe and sound back to the haven with the artifact in my hands. It's too heavy to simply take it out front he ground and not even the rope around my waist pulling it would make it move. I have to produce a lot of energy to pull or push the rock with little starting energy.

I let go of my backpack and open it, seeing the materials I have available: a long rope, the foldable cart (similar to the "shooting cart" from the ancients, which they used to carry around the food they gathered and hunted), some rations, the pickaxe, the shovel, my notebook... Oh!

I grip the notebook tightly, trying to prevent the shivering to make it fall from my hands. Passing the pages upon pages of Ancient blueprints, I find something that could be useful for this task: the pulley. The old people at the Haven say that this mechanism is used in the Ascent.

After checking the diagram with a glance, I take the shovel and dig again, unearthing most of the rock. Despite my hands being frozen and hurting, I tie the rope from my backpack around the cube.

Taking the rope with me, I climbed up a nearby tree. At the top, I run the rope over the most sturdy-looking branch. After praying for a few seconds to Socca, the god of shiny thingies and machines, asking him to save my ass from what I'm about to do, I jump.

The cube rises elegantly from the ground, while I fall like a featherless bird and end up face-first into the snow.

I let out a swear towards the god, but without letting go of the rope. If I do, I'll have to do it all again. After standing up and cleaning up all the snow in my hair, I walk to another tree and wrap the rope around it, making sure it was still tight.

I grab the shovel again, hopefully for the last time, filling the hole where the cube once was and opened the portable cart. Back to the tree and the rope, I undo the knot and grab the rope, lowering it slowly. Thank Socca the Haven's investigators found a technique to weave rope and make a really strong fabric. If it wasn't made from it, the cart would have broken down from the cube's weight.

Now the only thing that remains to do is go back. That's easy. Y go back to the cart and untie the rope around the rock, storing it back into my backpack. After putting it back on, I unwrap the rope around my waist and tying it to the cart. I sit on top of the cube and pull three times, in fast succession. The previously loose rope tightens and starts pulling me, the cart and the cube slowly through the snow storm.

After around 30 minutes of travel, I finally arrive at the Ascent: a wooden tower in the middle of a clearing. Inside, five guys in armor waited for me, sweating and gasping for air. The captain, Porter, looked at me with anger.

"Damnit, Loto! What the hell did you bring this time!? I needed the whole squad to bring you back here!"

"I have no idea," I said while smiling. "But it looks important. Now, can I go into the Haven or am I gonna have to file another one of your endless list of reports, Porter?"

The guardian didn't reply, and all five of them climbed a ladder. I could hear one of them mutter while climbing something along the lines of "I'm gonna kill her. She does this crap another time and she's dead. I mean it, Arthur."

I simply ignored his whines and stretched while the floor trembled and started descending into the ground.

Now, I just have to wait. Ingra's gonna love what I've found.

And that's it! 3 and a half pages of text, I think. I hope I wrote it correctly, English isn't my first language. Although I think I'm proficient, I've had to change quite a lot of slang since the expressions from the original language don't work in English. If you've read this far, thanks! Please, please, please tell me what you think of it, correct me if you found mistakes or suggest a name in the comments! Peace!

#writing #hello world

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illmamnim · 11 months

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I hadn't talked about dsmp in MONTHS but I found an old ficlet in my notes, so here you go:

(Summery: Ranboo has been busy getting used to the server. He and Fundy have a chat.)

Ranboo helped Tubbo collect wood for most of the afternoon when he finally took a break and set by the path. Tubbo was still on the clock, said he wasn't tired.

"Hi there!" Fundy startled Ranboo's train of thought. He greeted him back.

"Seeing something you like?" Fundy set down by him.

"What? Um, I'm just taking a break a bit. Not used to chopping trees that much, I guess."

"What are you building?"

"Tubbo wants to collect bees, so I'm helping him build a dome for them. Why are you here?"

"Just on my way to collect snow." He gestured to the shovel he's holding.

"Why?"

Fundy looked at him. "A shop."

"You're building a snow shop?"

"The ice cream shop!"

Ranboo shot up his gaze. "Oh! I completely forgot! I'm so sorry."

Fundy waved his hand. "Meh, it's fine. You seem to be busy lately."

"Tubbo has a lot of ideas."

Fundy rised his brow. "You've just been hanging a lot."

"Yeah, I guess. He keeps inviting me on his projects." Ranboo smiled.

"He seem to take an interest in you."

"Does he?"

Fundy thought for a second. "I don't remember him letting people in on his builds. He was always an “I can manage.„ type. But maybe it's the presidency that got him used the a crowd."

Hasted footsteps walked along the path. Quackity stood above them looking around. He spotted Tubbo and quickly walked to him, stack of papers in his hand.

"I think he does take interest in me." Ranboo said after thinking it through.

Fundy swinged his tail curiously. "You think he likes you?"

"What?! No. I mean-" Ranboo struggled. "I think I'm comforting for him. Maybe it's because I'm someone who doesn't know what he's been through?"

"How do you know he's been through something?"

"You don't get scars from nothing."

"Right." Fundy's ear fell flat. "Almost forgot about those."

They looked at Tubbo again, talking to Quackity about something important, pointing at different papers and fidgeting with his tie.

"But he makes me feel comfortable too."

"How so?"

"It feels like he understands. I mean, you and Niki care and you're good friends! But when he sees I'm in distress, even if he doesn't know what to do, there's a kind of sympathy, like he knows how I feel. And he wants to help, to make sure I'm feeling better."

Quackity nodded at Tubbo and started to walk off with the papers. Tubbo stretched his back and got back to wood chopping, somewhat forcefully now.

"He just really cares, you know?"

"Not really." Fundy said grimly.

Ranboo looked at him. His eyes were dazed, focused on nothing in the distance. "Do you not have someone who cares?"

He meant that innocently but Fundy shot him a look. He quickly averted his eyes.

Fundy got up and back to the path. "Anyway RanBOOB-" Ranboo groaned. "I'll get back to my snow. See ya' around."

#this was written back in 2021 #I really loved the ranboo tubbo fundy trio.. I wish we'd seen more of them #mcyt #Ranboo #fundy #ficlet #fanfic

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were-jer · 5 months

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☹ Response to a leaky faucet or other household problem ♡ What their wedding invitations would look like ☃ What they wear around the house ♆ The worst kind of neighbor they could have, and how they deal with them ♨ Their cooking ability (or lack thereof) ✂ How well they do yardwork (or blow up the lawnmower) ♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em ✧ How clean their living space is now, and/or would be ideally ♜ Interior decorating aesthetic ♘ Any pets they might have ☗ What you’d find in their cabinets

☹ Response to a leaky faucet or other household problem

Ignore it until he absolutely couldn't. He just changes his life and routine around the problem instead of fixing it. When his boke got a flat tire? He just started walking everywhere. Garage door stops working? Guess he doesn't have a garage anymore. Dorm room heating broke? Layers.

As long as it's not catastrophic like flooding, he just.. wont.

@little-elena visits his apartment or dorm or where ever, she's the one on the phone calling a plumber to fix a leaky faucet while Jer rolls his eyes.

♡ What their wedding invitations would look like

He's texting his side of the friends and family a week before the wedding. I'll be a little more specific for his two strongest relationships:

@baby-royalty - There is an engagement party, and engagement dinner, a save the date text, email, and physical letter in the mail at minimum a year in advance. Then the official invitations are absolutely gorgeous, expensive feeling, the calligraphy is 24kt gold leaf, all sent six months in advance and a thinly veiled threat about RSVP due dates.

@sarcasticsnackpack - This actually might just be an instagram post announcing they eloped.

☃ What they wear around the house

Summer - boxers

Winter - boxers and a hoodie

♆ The worst kind of neighbor they could have, and how they deal with them

A goddamn busy body snitch. Whether its the weird hours he keeps, the strange friends, or the smell of weed - all he really wants is someone chill and minding their own business.

♨ Their cooking ability (or lack thereof)

Jeremy cannot cook, should not be in a kitchen beyong microwaved nachos (tortilla chips with half melted shredded cheddar) or hot pockets. Him and Elena really drew the short end of the parenting stick there.

✂ How well they do yardwork (or blow up the lawnmower)

Very well! Raking leaves, mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, etc - were all chores of his growing up. He enjoys being outside and if he ever got his own place he might try his hand at some artsy landscaping.

♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em

Jeremy never really played boardgames much, it wasn't really a family activity and well highschool was pretty busy with all his other crap. I think if someone introduced him to playing in a small friend group that he would really enjoy it.

He will always prefer a good LAN party instead though.

✧ How clean their living space is now, and/or would be ideally

Not... The worst.

♜ Interior decorating aesthetic

His childhood room is still decorated by his mother's hand. Mrs. Gilbert had a very specific idea of how her home should look. He didnt really put any thought it into it.

Now in his own place? Creepy dark or trippy art, tacked to the walls of his room or dorm room, just covering the space radiating out from his desk.

♘ Any pets they might have

Jeremy doesn't own any pets and to be honest he would probably be afraid to have any. He's died so many times, and so many people around him have died as well that he struggles a bit with permanency. The idea of a pet was ruined after his second death, the one Bonnie had to bring him back for - the next time he thought about having a dog all he could picture was it waiting on him to come home one day.

you can't explain that to a dog or a cat

However, he would enjoy a partner having a pet.

☗ What you’d find in their cabinets

History books, video games, rocks? loose change. A lot of random shit from his dad, scavenges from the boxes in the attic that he's only brave enough to open when it's after midnight and he can't sleep.

#musings of a teenage werepup #hc #save #answered meme

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lastfrontierh · 2 years

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Explore Canadas Banff National Park

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There you would possibly even see individuals harvesting and skinning seals, and hanging the meat out to dry. Sometimes you see them bringing in a whale or polar bear and dividing the meat up amongst the town residents. East Greenlandic language is the common tongue here so having a local information is crucial. Here, the mountains rise like a fortress from the Pacific. Rocky, white-capped peaks stretch 2,000 ft above treeline, their contoured faces lined with cliffs, couloirs, and open bowls of snow. The jagged peaks, turtlenecked by dense evergreen forest, are outlined by steep avalanche chutes that create ribbons of white by way of the timber.

I thought that was what was important on the planet was and dancing and music. But then as a 20 12 months old, my sister came as a lot as bat to the Rockies. And I imply, when you have a look at a map of Canada, that is like 5 hours on an aeroplane. She got here out right here, and I came over and we each ended up staying.

Take benefit of early season costs, and ensure to e-book early. Our tenure within the Selkirk and Monashee Mountains constantly receives forty to 60 feet of powder every year. Sign up for our newsletter to get the latest adventures, exercises, destinations, and extra. Forget protocol—and do no matter you possibly can to snag the front seat of the helicopter.

Enjoy extremely long descents from 5000m down through large bowls and open faces, operating into a few of the best treeskiing on the planet. At the top of the day relax in post-colonial luxurious and splendour, and re-fuel with scrumptious hand-crafted curry while snow leopards and monkeys prowl outside. Experience A mountain retreat like no other; Bighorn is both a heliski lodge and a 5 star ski chalet. We have taken one of the best components from every idea and created a new definition of luxury. This is a type of experiences which is explainable. You have to be here to understand all the Snowwater provides.

Seems like every inch of the Selkirks is claimed by an operator. In Tasiilaq there’s also a small rope-tow ski hill that visitors might share with the local youngsters. In a country Heli skiing BC with virtually no roads, and heavy sea ice for much of the 12 months, helicopter, snowmobile and canine sled are the main modes of getting around.

#heli skiing bc

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sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

Claw Tracks

Pairing: Berold (Werebear/Bear Shifter) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Violence, Bodyhorror.

---

“Disgusting vermin!”

“Thief!”

“Scoundrel!”

The words had hurt but the rocks hurt more as they were hurled at the back of your head. One had caught you at the base of your skull and you could still feel the burning pain down into your neck as you shivered in the snow. The storm was in full swing now, and the icy wind burned your face and fingertips as you waded through the snow drifts along the side of the mountain. It hurt. You felt your arms starting to go numb and you hadn’t been able to feel your feet or hands for a long time. The cloak wrapped around you was tattered and worn. It had been years since you had had a new one, and this one was thread bare. It was the only thing you could grab before the townspeople had driven you out with pitchforks and fire. Your home was still smouldering in the distance. They’d called you a witch. A witch for what, you had asked, before they set the torches to your cabin. Nothing.

“Damn that stupid baker’s boy.” You cursed through chattering teeth as spots began to swim in your vision.

The cold was blistering. You stopped again to try and tug your cloak tighter, cursing the wind, ice, snow and cold, and especially the Baker’s son. You had refused him one too many times. Proposal after proposal turned down. Now you were a witch to the entire town. The bell tolled below, signalling mass. It seemed ironic that they burned your home and almost killed you but were heading to mass like it was any other day. Suddenly, cursing anymore was exhausting, and you felt your legs finally go numb, the cold and trudging through the snow taking its toll. Suddenly your legs jittered, shaking violently before they sent you face first into the snow drift. The cold ached. You felt the burning in your joints and bones, deep into your core as you struggled with your hands deep in the snow drift. Your fingers wiggled in the snow but made no headway in getting you back upright. Snow pounded against your eyes, crystalising in your eyelashes as it melted and froze once again with the freezing wind. Agony. You were in agony. A sob wretched from your throat as the pain overwhelmed you and breathing became hard around your sobs and shivering.

“I’m… going to die here…” You sobbed brokenly as the snow started to cover your thighs, burying you in the snow drift slowly. Black was seeping into the corners of your vision again and the cold was slowly becoming a numb sensation against your face. That was, until, a snort and a guttural growl rumbled over the drift. It was winter. Animals were hibernating. The only thing that should be alive and moving on the mountain was the reindeer that lived along a long, icy migration route. You wobbled as you clawed at the snow, peering over the ridge with a strained cry of burning pain through your body. A bear. A great, black cave bear stood in the drift in front of you, its nose lowered to your face, sniffing and huffing at your hair. The hot breath blew over your face before the wet end of its nose was pressed firmly into your hair. Dangerous teeth snapped in front of your face as the bear pulled away, strings of spit dripping from its jowls. It drew back enough for you to see its black eyes blown wide, staring at you through the left one. The other eye was cloudy, white and scarred. The bear grumbled again, watching you with one giant eye as you reached towards its muzzle. Your freezing cold fingers brushed the gnarled fur around its mouth, dipping into the thick, heavier fur around the bear’s ears.

You collapsed into the snow. The burning cold met your face as you keeled over into the deep snow drift. Heavy breaths snuffled over your neck as blackness overtook you. A rumble sounded from the bear.

“Don’t…eat…me.”

Warmth. There was something warm against your body. You felt a heavy weight over your back, stomach and legs. That was warm too. It was very warm. Cozy almost. Suddenly, drifting back to sleep seemed like the best idea.

“Best not to go back to sleep.” Someone rumbled from next to you, “You’ve taken two days to come ‘round as it is. I suggest you open your eyes.” It was harsh, a deep voice that carried an immediate pang of authority.

Sleepily, you dared to open your eyes and were met with a goliath of a man. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, but one was clouded with blindness, and his hair matched that, but was ladened with grey, like a salt and pepper waterfall down his back. The hair almost blended into the beard on his face and the hair over his chest and down his stomach. He snorted and blew hair from his eyes as he loomed over you, bare chested and only clothed in a thin pair of linen bottoms.

“Aren’t you cold…” You shivered, mumbling the words as your fingers finally came back to life beneath the thick, stitched fur quilt. Inside you were tucked in with several layers of blankets.

The man snorted before leaning over you to place another log onto the roaring flames. The fire was quick to start consuming the wood and you realised then that’s why you were so warm.

“I’m not cold.” He grunted at you, “I have thick…” He looked at himself and then shrugged, “I don’t feel it like others.”

With a sleepy blink you looked from the flames to the man’s hardened face. He was older than you initially thought, but age did not make him any less large and well built, aside from the fat around his tummy, over the heavy set muscles of his form. He was infinitely tall, towering over you, standing at well over six and a half feet. A giant.

“You’re…a giant.” You cooed from the floor, eyelids drooping with tiredness.

“Something like that.” He tutted at your drooping eyelids, “Now. Eat. Drink. Then you can sleep.”

A cup was thrust at you before the man helped you sit up, his arm lifting you before he cupped your head and poured small sips of water into your mouth. You swallowed slowly, before realising how parched you were and drinking greater gulps.

“Slowly. You’ll be sick.” The man complained before he pulled the water away and started to feed you bits of gravy stewed meat. It was thick but delicious. Between your chewing he ate pieces of bread and stew before offering you more. Eventually you both cleaned out a bowl, and he went for seconds, slurping the mixture down before moving onto a great bunch of red, ripe winter berries, pushing the popping fruit between his lips by the handful.

Tiredness set into your bones and you looked at the man as he shovelled another mouthful of berries into his mouth and chewed slowly.

“What are you starting at, human?” He grunted.

“What happened to that bear?” You asked quietly as you closed your eyes.

The man was quiet for a few moments before he answered, “We are one in the same.” He fluffed the pillow gently before sitting you up, “Come. You need to relieve yourself or you’ll get another kind of issue.” He eased you to your feet and helped you to relieve yourself before quietly tucking you back into the heated furs, “Now sleep. I will wake you again.” He promised as he settled himself in a wooden rocking chair next to you. You fell asleep just as he finished his sentence.

Warmth woke you up again but this time you felt much more coherent. Drowsily you looked at the fire, still roaring in the hearth, and wondered what time it was as you pushed the blanket away from your legs and felt the urge to relieve yourself burn in your gut. With a huff you dared to stand on your own, wobbling back and forth before collapsing back into the furs with a grunt. The furs rumbled. With a gasp you squeezed the fur underneath your hands and were met with the thick, hot fat of a giant sleeping bear, curled around your mattress and blankets on the floor. It grumbled a deep, threatening growl before opening one black eye. Your hands were pushed against a thick, puckered scar in its fur and you recoiled with a soft gasp as it opened its mouth to yawn, revealing sharp teeth. The front right canine was cracked. With a fumble, you tried to crawl away over the furs. A giant paw slapped on top of your back, pinning you in place before the bear dragged you back towards its face. Its blind eye made you quiver but the nose that pressed to you made you squirm. It snuffled before tucking you under its arm and laying its giant head back down with a grunt before it dragged your furs closer again.

“Hey, hey…No. I need to pee.” You groaned under the weight of the bear’s paw, trapped in the warm, thick fur.

The bear snorted before releasing you and bedding itself back against the floor, laid on its side. It ignored you as you stood up and took a deep, long breath as it drifted back off to sleep.

“One in the same huh…” You whispered as the bear slept soundly by your bed, its head rested on one of your pillows. You made a quick exit towards the back of the cabin and thieved Berold’s boots and giant fur coat before you headed to the small shed to relieve yourself. Your legs shook as you got back into the warmth, locking the door with a clunk as you headed back towards the nest in front of the fire. The bear was still asleep and you looked at the fur and then the scar over the eye.

“Berold the bear shifter, huh.” You looked at the bear as you warmed your face and hands by the fire, throwing another log into the flames to keep it alight, “Hibernating are you.”

The bear opened his good eye before growling lowly.

“Listening too.” You hummed, tucking yourself in with a fur before you looked back at the animal you assumed to be your saviour, “Thank you, then. For everything. I wouldn’t be alive otherwise.”

The bear eyed you before loping to its feet and shouldering its way into the other room.

The sound of bones cracking and a man screaming sounded, and you rushed to your feet to see the last moment as Berold’s face cracked and snapped back into place, from muzzle to flat and human. You gasped as he heaved on the floor, catching his breath before he dared to stand up on his legs, wobbling back and forth before he looked at you through his one good eye and gestured to himself.

“The coat.” He grunted.

With a rush of embarrassment, you grabbed the fur coat and threw it to him before turning around. Berold covered himself quickly before tapping you when he was decent.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He said simply before he walked past you.

“Wait a minute!” You rushed after him, still shaking and weak from the brush with death, “Of course I do! You saved my life and…”

Berold held a finger to your lips, “Save your breath. Eat well, rest, and I will help you back to the village.”

The village. You’d almost forgotten about the villagers. You eased your hand up the back of your neck and touched the place you had been struck by a rock. It was a lump now, the skin raised and inflamed. You felt your head spin as you drew your hand away to see blood. Berold rushed to catch you as you fell forwards towards the floor.

“I did not know you were injured.” He grumbled as his fingers raised your hair and peered at the wound, which was dripping fresh blood, down the back of your neck, “Sit.” He directed you down to the armchair he was sat in before and left you to go and collect some things. Your eyes rolled with pain as you leaned back, trying to stop the ceiling from spinning. Berold’s hot fingers returned to your face and his old, grizzled looking face appeared in front of you. He said something, but the words rang in your deaf ears as white noise echoed in your eardrums. The bear-shifter shook his head and eased your head forwards, cupped in his palm as he plucked at the wound and tutted. What followed next, you couldn’t remember. All you could remember was Berold’s warm fingers as they cleaned and applied things to your head.

You woke up again wrapped in furs, your head rested on several pillows and wrapped in gauze. You groaned and opened your eyes to see an elf leaned over you. The elf was dark haired with skin of a purple tone, his red eyes covered by a pair of thick lensed glasses. He hummed before whispering something to Berold and then another person appeared. A fae of some kind with soft feathered wings of pure white and a beak to match. She ruffled her feathers before laying out a long looking mushroom and snapping her fingers. The mushroom wiggled before arms and legs popped from its stem.

“Come on, little one, we need that fruit.” She cooed softly with a trill.

The elf was quick to notice your eyes were open and hushed her with a finger to his lips, “You’re awake. Welcome back, but be still, human. We are not finished.” He pressed your head back and held you still as the little mushroom yawned and sat itself into a plant pot full of soil.

“Come, come, ‘ock you’re a lazy one.” The fae complained as she ushered the fungus along and touched her fingers to the pot from behind her great snowy wings. She was covered in soft downy feathers and you were entranced before looking at the elf too, his red eyes judgemental of the mushroom.

“Berold. Please hold them.” The elf asked.

Berold moved to your side, gruff and huffy as he held your head back and watched the elf move to tease the fruit from the little mushroom’s head, “Thought you could handle this one, Slidrah?” He grumbled.

“Sometimes even the most unassuming patients are the unruliest.” Slidrah complained as the mushroom sneezed out a sporous fruit. He plucked it carefully before placing the fruit into the mortar and beginning to grind it into the paste.

“Slidrah can ye be nice for just once?” The fae trilled.

“Oh of course, Morganna, I will be the kindest elf to the rudest bear I know.” Slidrah complained as he mixed the paste and placed it over a thick padded bandage.

“You wouldn’t make it through the winter without me.” Berold growled as he touched your forehead and stroked your skin softly.

“Sure, Berold.” Slidrah rolled his eyes before he took the bandage and eased your head up. He placed it against the wound before Morganna pulled out a feather from her wing and gently laid it over your stomach as the paste stung against your wound.

“Gently now, dearie.” Morganna cooed at Slidrah before he whispered a word you had never heard before. Your eyes drooped suddenly as your fingers clutched at the feather, stroking the softness between two fingers before you gasped and reached for Berold’s hand. He put a finger to his lips, appearing as double and then triple as your eyes rolled and closed.

“I know you’re awake.” Berold said as he eased your head up and carefully removed the bandages from around the back of your head, “Sit still.” He carefully peeled away the bandage before he took the paste and compress away, revealing a green mix with a very pungent smell.

“What happened?” You asked quietly, your throat dry and sore from being asleep.

Berold took a new compress to your head, the cloth smeared with a familiar looking paste, “Morganna put you to sleep to help you recover. The compress has helped. The wound is closed.” He eased your head back after he tied the bandage tight enough to hold the cloth and paste to your head, “You were lucky. Skilled healers are the only people who could have helped you. Had I been alone here, you would have died from the trauma.”

You were still tired but the weight of his words sat heavy in your stomach, “Thank you, then…For saving my life again.”

Berold snorted, “Slidrah and Morganna saved your life this time. They left this morning, but they will be back within the week no doubt, you can thank them then.” He stopped you from sitting up with a giant, warm hand pressed to your stomach. Even with one, blind cloudy eye, he still appeared viciously angry, “Stay still. Too much movement could open the wound again. Bed rest. Until Slidrah and Morganna come back.” He insisted with a growl before standing and heading out of the room.

You gazed around quietly before reaching for the water next to the bed. After a few careful sips, you tugged at the furs and ran your fingers through the thick beaver hair and the pelt of a shaggy goat, which lived up on the cracks in the mountain. They were incredibly warm and you eased back, thankful for the heat of the small bedroom. The cabins’ rooms were made of solid, heavy timber, smelling of fragrant pine, and the small window was covered in glass, something only a rich man could afford, even if it was tiny. You looked at the chimney breast and again wondered how on earth Berold lived in such luxury. Your head swam with even the effort of turning it to peer around at the little room and you closed your eyes as your gut lurched and bile rose in your mouth.

Berold returned with a small bowl in his hands, his black eyes softening as he watched you retch against the furs, “Did I not tell you to stay still?” He said scathingly before he placed the food aside and eased you back against a great pile of overstuffed pillows.

The sweet smell of honey and oats made you wish you didn’t feel so sick, “What did they do to my head.” You complained before Berold pulled your fingers away from your head.

“They healed it…With magic we don’t mention to anyone. What they did could get us all killed.” Berold seemed unconcerned despite the severity of what he was saying, “The villagers don’t come here. I want to keep it that way.” He brushed the greying streaks of hair from his face before he took hold of the bowl again.

“That smells like what Mrs Freist used to make us.” You murmured at the bear-shifter, “She had beehives.”

Berold held a spoonful of the mixture to your lips, “Its honeyed oat porridge. Eat. It will help you regain your strength.” He pressed the wooden spoon insistently to your lips and you opened your mouth to take the food inside, smiling like a child at the tooth rotting taste of too much honey.

“Have you eaten?” You asked quietly after a few mouthfuls.

Berold nodded, “Honey is a favourite of mine.” He confessed as he fed you another spoonful.

“Like a real bear.” You squeezed at the furs with a small laugh, “Its delicious.”

Dark eyes flashed with softness once again and you settled back against the cushions as Berold continued to feed you the bowl of food.

It continued in a pattern. Twice a day Berold would sit and feed you and around midday he would come to check on you and offer you a meal you often never wanted. Slowly, your strength returned, and Berold trusted you to relieve yourself without falling over and dress yourself so long as you didn’t move too quickly. It was a month before you could walk around and do things without your head spinning, and the snow never seemed to stop for longer than a few days. The mountainside thawed a little and Berold disappeared to gather food and wood before the snow started again and you were trapped once more. A month of snow and ice then lead to a calm week of thawing. Berold was at the windows, his nose raised as he tasted at the air, and opened the door to let the chilly breeze into the cabin. You looked at the massive man from the kitchen as you dried a large pan and placed it away in his rickety cupboards. You had both eaten a thick and heavy stew from the night before for breakfast but Berold had seemed very uninterested in the food in favour of looking out of the window longingly.

“It smells like spring.” He grumbled as he looked around outside at the slightly thawed snow, “Like…fresh grass.”

“I think the cabin fever has finally gotten to you old man.” You joked from the kitchen, “Maybe in the valleys, it tends to be thawed now with some grass, but the winter isn’t over just yet.” You placed away a spoon on the rack and turned back to see Berold’s good eye turned to watch you. His milky eye twitched at the ghosts of the shapes outside but he grinned, exposing white, sharp teeth at you.

“Old man?” He asked with a huffy chortle, “If I’m old then you’re a cub.”

“A cub?” You asked, “I’m old enough to have at least three little parasites to my name.” You gave a dry snort, “But that didn’t happen, thank the gods.”

“They make children have more children now?” Berold raised a dark eyebrow as he closed the door and headed towards the fire to look at the log pile along the side of the wall.

“Its worse elsewhere.” You insisted, “But thankfully no one wants the orphan with no dowery.”

“Dowery…You mean the money a father gives for a man to marry his child? I thought that practice ancient?” Berold looked at you in confusion again.

“Just how long have you been up here?” You asked, not believing what you were hearing, “Did a snowball hit you too hard in the head?” You joked as you placed away the last of the bowls.

Berold chewed on his words for a minute, “I slept…for a long time.” He confessed, “We are akin to dragons, but my hibernation took some years from me after the arenas. I was taken as a young teenager and forced to fight in the pits, tearing little knights to pieces for the entertainment of some elven king. A foul-smelling fucker. He gave me this.” He dragged a black nail over his eye, “I took his arm off for the trouble.” He snarled and pointed to the bone laid on the mantle, “But I slept after that up in this mountain from being…” He shrugged, “I was old, but I was not grey.” He confessed, “But we live for a long time…”

“Humans who wore bear skins were once Gods.” You whispered.

Berold’s teeth were exposed in another snarling smile, “We were once Gods of wisdom.” He tapped the wall with his nails, “But now we are dead and gone.”

“There are tales of shifters to the north, beyond here, why don’t you go there?” You asked.

“I have no need of a tribe, just as they had no need of me when they left me to die.” He shrugged and pulled his hair from his face, “Not one of them came to my aid when I screamed in the woodlands, impaled on spears and dragged to serve as a toy for a king of pointed eared fuckers. So, I will not go to them. They can rot in their woods with the nymphs.” Berold dismissed the questions with an annoyed flap of his hand.

“Where are you going?” You asked as he dragged his coat from the wall and pulled his boots on his feet.

“To bathe and ensure no one has decided this is now their territory.” Berold grunted as he opened the door again.

“There’s somewhere to bathe?” You asked with glee, “Can I…”

“You will freeze. It is a freezing lake beneath a waterfall.” He snapped at you before he closed the door, abruptly ending the conversation between the two of you. You felt anger churn in your gut but you rushed to grab one of his coats and some boots before tying everything closed and rushing after the shifter’s tracks in the snow.

The tracks lead up the mountain, through the thawing slush, before turning into those of the giant bear who’s claws dragged along in the snow as he lumbered along. You cursed the giant bear-shifter as you followed him up the mountain side and then towards the crags where the path dipped down into an odd-looking alcove. You followed the path down into the hidden side of the mountain face until you heard the crashing of water. A great pool of water was hidden in the alcove, with a small waterfall crashing over the top of the cliff faces into the water below which led into another small waterfall and so on down the side of the mountain. It was surrounded with wildlife and greenery which could not survive on the mountainside against the wind, rain and cold, but could in the sheltered alcove. Berold’s coat and clothes sat in a bundle under the shrubbery closest to you, hidden from the elements and animals.

You got to the base of the path and watched as Berold’s giant head exploded from under the water. The black bear shook his head and peered around, nose stuck in the air, and you made sure to duck low near his bundles of clothes, the coat and furs hopefully serving to disguise your scent on the wind. The bear huffed and growled before it swam to the edge of the pool and shook out its mass of shaggy fur before making its way to the tree, littered with claw marks and great gouges, before he began to rub his face and body over the bark, scratching and marking the area before the bear growled and fur began to disappear from its back. You watched as the bear howled, its head thrown up as the fur disappeared to reveal dark skin, which slowly melted into the scarred, pale skin of Berold. The muzzle snapped and flattened back towards the dark eyes, one cloudy and blind, and the other closed in agony as Berold began to take shape, his bones snapping and cracking back to reveal a tall, burly man, old and greying in many places. His chest was covered in a thick line of fur and his face was now beginning to grow a beard which was far too thick. He needed a clip, but the winter had left the both of you stuck inside, sleeping and eating most days. Berold seemed much more alert now as he sniffed the air again, naked, his muscles twitching with the cold, before he dove back into the water. He resurfaced a minute later with a snort of water and a grumble as he reached around the bank for his clothes.

His hand wrapped around your boot, and before you could even yelp, you were dragged from under the bushes, leaves and rotten twigs catching in your hair and coat before you came face to face with Berold’s face. His salt and pepper hair hung around his shoulders but stuck to his face as he snarled at you with sharp, long canines. Water streaked over the muscles of his neck and shoulders as he dragged himself over the edge of the pool, leaning out to keep his weight on you, and to keep you pinned in place.

“I told you not to come with me.” He growled as he pulled the hair from his face with his other hand, “What part of you would freeze did you not understand?”

You yelped as his wet hand slapped over your thigh, holding you in place in the mud, “I want to get clean as well and…well I wanted to see where you were going…” You confessed in a rush as the werebear snorted over you, his nose twitching as he scented you and then the air again.

“Fine then. Strip off.” Berold grunted.

You felt yourself go hot with embarrassment, “What do you mean strip?” You snarked at him, “Are you some kind of pervert?” You looked away from him as he stood in the pool, the waterline barely hiding his genitals from sight.

“You’re going to freeze either way, but at least your clothes will be dry if you strip them off.” Berold grumbled at you.

For a moment you considered throwing your clothes at him out of spite but with a huff you turned to strip away the coat, “Turn around…” You asked. With a small sigh, Berold turned and the water sloshed around his hips, “Thank you.” He only grunted in response. You carefully removed your clothes and folded the cloth and wool in a neat pile beside Berold’s under the bush.

“Its best if you just jump in.” Berold joked from the water, though his tone was as gruff and mean as usual.

“I don’t think I dare.” You confessed at the edge of the water, shivering before Berold whipped around, grabbing you by the thighs before he launched you up and into the water with a giant splash.

Water blurred your vision until you broke the surface, coughing and splurting, gasping until you realised you could stand in the waist high water quite easily. Berold laughed, long and raspy as he leaned back and splashed back into the water. It was then you realised the water wasn’t cold. It was pleasantly warm. The shock on your face made Berold heave a great laugh again from where he was floating around the pool, his hair cascading out from him in waves.

“It’s heated by lava I think.” Berold hummed as he floated towards you, his eyes closed, the scars on his face not turned with upset for once but bent upwards with the smile on his lips.

“So why did you lie about it being cold?” You asked as you ducked to cover your body in water.

Berold opened one dark eye and shrugged, tipping himself into the water before turning to look at you, hidden against the edge, “Sometimes I don’t want you following me everywhere I go.” He offered gruffly, “You’re barely recovered to add to that. I didn’t want to have to carry you back home.” He confessed softly as he pushed water over his arms and pointed to the bank, “There’s soap in my coat. I will let you go first, then you can be out of my way.”

“Sure…” You huffed as you took the soap from the furs and quickly set to work scrubbing your skin as good as you could manage. Once you had lathered up and washed yourself, you dunked your body low and turned to be met with one gleaming dark eye and one blind one, watching you, apparently that whole time.

“Pervert.” You hissed at the Werebear as you threw the soap at him.

Berold snatched the soap from the air, “Think what you want.” He growled as he turned to rub the soap against his shoulders, “Dress. I’ll lead us home.”

You pulled yourself from the small pool and wiped as much water as you could from your skin, grateful for the warm, dry clothes as you pulled them over your chilly skin. Turned away, you looked up the face of the mountain at the snow which was dripping water over the rocks. Berold sloshed in the water as he soaped his skin, and you listened to him move in the water, beating down the urge to turn around and see what the giant werebear looked like. There was a rush of snow from the side of the mountain which made you smile. It was followed by a bleating mountain goat which peered over the side with dark eyes, its shaggy white fur flopping over its eyes once again as it turned and carried on up the mountain, ignoring the two of you in the pool.

Berold caught your arm a moment later, dressed and still burning hot despite the coolness of the air. He peered upwards, his eyes following the mountain goat with a sniff, “They make for good eating.”

“I’m sure we don’t need anymore food just yet.” You replied as you smiled and watched the goat go.

Berold’s gaze turned to your face, “You don’t smile like that often. It suits you.” He complimented gruffly.

“What do you mean?” You asked as he started back up the path towards his home, expecting you to follow him.

He waited for you to catch up before offering an arm for you to take as you clambered over roots and boulders, “Ever since you woke up you had this far away look on your face, like you were looking for something and just could never find it.” Carefully, he lifted you over a particularly large boulder and followed with a grunt, “You looked sad, until recently.”

You considered his words, remembering spending the first days recovering after Slidrah’s treatment staring longingly out of the small window as the snow battered up the mountainside, “I…” The words seemed to stick in your throat, “I lost the place I called my home and the people who were once the only family I ever had in a single day.” You replied, “All because the stupid baker’s boy couldn’t take a hint.” You picked up a stone on the path and threw it back into the pool, the anger fading with the splash of the water as the stone hit its surface.

Berold watched the stone soar silently before he opened his mouth, “Then they weren’t your real family, were they?” He scoffed, “If a baker’s boy could call you a witch and Satan’s whore then they were hardly ever your family.”

You felt anger burn in your throat, “They were once. You don’t have to word it in a way that makes it seem like no one ever cared!”

Berold laughed at you as you snatched your arm from his, “The truth hurts, little cub, better get used to that before someone really hurts you.”

“I refuse to turn into a bitter, cruel man like you. Not everyone is out to hurt you!” You refused to let him see you cry as you stormed up the snowy banking, “And not everyone wants to become an emotionally stunted recluse like you either!”

The werebear grabbed you by the arm before you could carry on with your tantrum, “As much as your words hurt me.” He rolled his eyes, “I refuse to let you storm off, get lost and develop hypothermia, again.”

“Bite me.” You grumbled before Berold snarled and grappled you easily, hauling you over his shoulder as you struggled, pinning you in place before he started back to his cabin.

“You can have your childish, ignorant tantrum back where you won’t die.”

You didn’t see Berold for a few days after the argument. He left you in the cabin and went out to collect wood and forage while the weather was good, and he could avoid being stranded in the snow. The tension was made somehow worse by his temper and you spent all the time you could avoiding him, reading the same books over and over in your room before collecting a meal and disappearing back into your room once more. You opened the tale of the origin of Solgren once more that day and huffed at the first page and its ancient map of the region. It was a hot country, far to the south, where it is said a race of snake creatures and lizardfolk are worshipped as deities and gods. You heard a merchant once talk about a Naga of fertility that birthed a thousand snakes into a ravine to produce a venomous pit into which no one could enter.

A heavy knock sounded on your door.

“Yes?” You asked with less of the usual venom, “What is it, Berold?”

The werebear opened the door and looked at you, his good eye roving over you tucked in the furs reading. You had even snuck into his honey stash again out of the top of the cupboard, “I see I need to find somewhere new to hide the honey.” He offered lamely as he entered, “I have come to apologise.” He stated, watching your eyes widen, “I was cruel and brash. I did not intend to upset you, but I did not think… But I am sorry.”

You met his intense gaze and nodded, “Apology accepted, and…I’m sorry too.” You closed your book, “I was foul as well. I know you’ve been through a lot, just like me, and I don’t have the right to take that out on you.”

Berold seemed satisfied by that statement, “It seems we both need to learn how to not upset one another…” He tugged over a stool and sat by the edge of your bed, “And I need to learn that opening up to people is not the end of the world.” With a gruff noise he reached and pulled his loose cotton shirt over his head, revealing the thick, puckered scars from over his shoulders. He twisted on the stool and you were graced with the full extent of the injuries. His back was covered in long, thick scars, pale and tough from where they had healed, now filled with collagen toughened tissue.

“Is this what they did to you?” You asked.

“When I did not perform, they used steel tipped whips. I could only ever endure about five, but it was five every time I couldn’t stand for almost thirty years of my life.” He offered, “A woman would come and cover them with a mint paste when she could. She was in charge of the animals… They still hurt.” He reached to touch the ones on his shoulders before flinching as his tough fingers met your own, “They are an ugly reminder of that place, but an even better reminder of what I did to all of them.”

Burning fire flashed behind your eyes, a memory of your own tragedy, “Did you kill them all?” You asked quietly as you traced a thick scar down the centre of his spine.

Berold’s burning, black gaze turned to look at you, holding your gaze he nodded, “Every last one of them.” He curled his fist as his other hand took hold of your own, “It felt good, when I pulled that fucker’s arm off, but…It was hollow after that. I left him bleeding on his throne and made for the mountains. Walked for…I don’t know. Its hazy, the memories of my other side. I ate fish for days and slept in a cave before waking up with grey in my hair. Revenge made me old.” He finished with a sour joke as he turned back to face you head on and pulled his shirt back on over his head.

“I’m sorry people did that to you.” You wanted to cry but you tried to smile, “It seems we both have a little tragedy, huh?”

“It seems so.” Berold hummed before he offered you his hand, “But…There’s no reason we can’t build something a bit better.” He squeezed your hand gently.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” You joked.

He tugged your hand closer to his fangs, “Hardly…But some company up here wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Then I accept your proposal.” You squeezed his hand before offering him a look at the book cover, “Have you read this one?” You asked.

Berold shook his head of shaggy hair, “No. Read it to me?” He asked quietly, “I’ll make more honey tea.”

Reading slowly became a routine. After dinner, the two of you would sit by the fire, and you would open a book to read to the werebear. Often, he ended up with his head in your lap and your hand in his hair, snoozing in the heat as you quietly read the story. It had started with him, shifted, curled on the floor by the fire, but as the days went on, Berold seemed to grow more comfortable and laid out his form over the cushions and furs and yourself. It was nice. His heat was soothing and his frame wrapped snuggly around your own. When he did finally drift off, you read for a while longer before easing his head onto a pillow and slipping away to bed. He never said anything the next day. This night was much the same, and you propped the book up in front of you as you stroked through his grey and black hair, winding the strands together aimlessly as you read the tale or Narbren and Senoot, two fae of the oaks who had once saved the fae realm. He was uninvested, but happily closed his eyes as you stroked through his hair.

“Senoot took the flames of the world tree in hand and cried, her tears dripping into the wood ashes with despair as she watched the leaves and bark burn before her eyes. Narben thrust his sword at the spirits, his own tears of fury soaking the ground. Together they mourned the tree in the burning fire…” You paused as there came a knock on the door, removing your fingers from Berold’s hair, “At this hour?” You asked breathily before Berold’s eyes turned angry. He pulled himself from the cushions and stood, his shoulders squared as he turned the lock with a clunk and opened the wood door inwards.

The chilly breeze blew into the room and you tucked the furs around your legs as Berold filled the doorway, his giant, almost seven-foot-tall frame blocking much of his home from view. You peered around him to catch a glimpse of the guards stood at the door.

“Good evening, sir.” One guard tipped his helmet forwards, “I’m sorry to knock so late but we have a favour to ask of you.”

“Good evening…I’m not much in the way of favours.” Berold grunted, “I can’t spare you room to stay if that is what you are going to ask.”

“No, sir. We are after a witch.” The guard scowled before he pointed into the cabin, “We have a warrant to search every home until we find them.”

“How does that warrant affect me? This mountain is the border territory.” Berold snapped, “I will not have you come in here and ravage my home.”

“It is law. We will do it by force if necessary.” The guard threatened, “And we wish to speak with your…”

Fear laced through you as Berold grunted, “That is my partner. We are to be married in the spring.” He grumbled at the guard, “Touch and I will rip you open.” But he moved to the side to allow the group inside. Their cloaks caught on the doorframe and you nodded to them as they entered the room, praying no one had given them a detailed description of your face.

The rest of the party moved into the house, leaving one with Berold and you, “You are to be married but why is your spouse with you?”

“They have no family.” Berold picked at his teeth with a dark nail, “Every winter we spend time here, but the weather has been too bad to return home.”

The guard gave a disbelieving look, “And visitors?” He asked.

“None. I trade with a few people over the mountain but as I said, the weather has been too bad.” Berold answered. You could see his temper wearing thin as the guards dropped something in the kitchen, but he stood by the door, as calmly as he could manage.

“You.” The guard pointed to you, “Where are you from?” He asked.

You swallowed and smiled as best as you could, “The village Berold mentioned, sir, just over the mountain. I worked with a man named Slidrah, he’s the apothecary owner.”

“What’s the name of the place.” He pressed.

“Ignot.” You replied, praying you had heard Slidrah right on his last visit to the cabin. The guard eyed you for a moment more with his pinprick gaze before he seemed satisfied and moved back to questioning Berold about his comings and goings. You sat by the fire and pretended to read as they continued to look through the house and assess every nook and cranny of the building. Berold watched with furious eyes until they were ready to depart. The guards were curt with their depart and you watched them from the window, wrapped in a heavy blanket. Berold growled by the door, snorting and grumbling as he stretched and paced by the door.

“Berold?” You asked as he reached for the door, his brows thickening and darkening as his sharp teeth protruded from out underneath his top lip.

“Stay inside.” He demanded, “They know. They’ll bring more.” He reached for the door handle and opened the wooden door again, letting the cold air in once again as he snarled and snorted, “No one comes in. You don’t let anyone in unless they knock four times.”

“Why four times?” You asked as you took hold of his shirt, “They’ll know if you kill them…”

“I’m doing this…This one thing to protect someone I care about, for once.” Berold confessed with another growl before he stormed out of the door, his face cracking with a shift, “Keep it locked until those knocks!” He shouted through his teeth and you slammed the door locked and removed the key with a deep breath as you listened to Berold stumble and howl in the snow, hobbling down the mountain on the tracks the guards had left behind.

He didn’t return that night and you spent it huddled by the fire, sipping honey sweetened tea as you watched the fire and kept it hot, hoping Berold would return later.

Four knocks woke you in the morning. They came slow and were lethargic, as though the person was exhausted.

“Its me.” Berold growled from outside, “Let me in.”

You rushed from the pillows and blankets in the chair and took the key to open the door. It swung open to reveal Berold, tired and drawn, but otherwise clean and uninjured.

“Are you okay?” You helped him inside and watched as he set himself down in the armchair, exhausted.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled, “But they’re not…I took them into the village and told them a bear attacked. The villagers seemed to buy it. They won’t be able to deliver their message.” He yawned against the furs before opening his eyes and tucking his hair behind his ears. He scrubbed at his beard before sighing, “I did it to protect you. I…” He took a long breath, “I think I have grown to love something but myself.” He uttered as his eyes slid closed a little, “You sit right here.” He pointed to his heart, “And I think I would…be sad if you were to leave me.” Berold reached for your face, tracing a gentle circle over your cheek before he smiled tiredly, “What this old bear is trying to say, is that I love you.”

The words rang in your ears for a moment. Your face lit up with a smile.

“You’re a thick-headed idiot, you know that right?” You tucked a fur over his lap before Berold dragged you to him.

“Is that you saying you feel this way too?” He grumbled next to your neck as his hair tickled at your skin.

You pulled his head up and smiled before laying one kiss on his cheek, “Yes. I love you too.”

Berold dragged you closer and pressed your lips together, his teeth poking against your bottom lip as he turned his head and rubbed his hands along your sides. It was intense and you felt like you were drowning, smothered in the entirety of Berold for a moment before he pulled away and stroked at your neck and face, his face buried in your hair.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“Don’t thank me.” You replied as you tucked his hair back, “But promise that’ll you’ll keep talking and letting me in.”

“I promise, dearest.” Berold whispered against your cheek as he dragged the furs over the two of you.

#werebear #werebear x reader #shifter x reader #monster x reader #monster boy x reader #monster boyfriend #monster bf x reader #gender neutral reader #terato #exo #berold x reader #reader insert #my writing #original works #berold the werebear #shifter berold

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Happy Christmas

Summary: A snow day in with Sy ends in more than just reading a good book and watching some crappy tv

Pairing: Syverson / unnamed OFC

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: smut (unprotected sex)

A/N: This is my Christmas Gift to you. Merry Christmas x

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

It had been snowing for three days in a row. Sy finally gave up on shoveling the snow in the driveway yesterday. You both had a blast building a snowman instead, though said snowman was already half covered in a new layer of snow.

“Let’s just stay inside until this all blows over.” He had said last night before he fell asleep, hugging you close. Meeting Sy was the best thing that had ever happened to you. The big texan man loved you so much, he left San Antonio to move in with you in Salt Lake city where you had your own business. A very successful restaurant. The both of you had met at JFK where you both had waited for your delayed flight to germany. You for a cooking class. Him to board another plane to go back to serve for the army.

You never believed in love at first sight but when he picked up your book, after you almost ran over your whole luggage it had knocked you off your feet.

And here you were, three years later laying on your comfy sofa in Sy’s arms. The two of you hadn’t even bothered getting dressed properly. He had gone out in just his boxers getting some firewood in. Like the maniac he was. After he had made sure the fire would last for at least the next episode of his series, he joined you on the sofa. While he watched his series you wanted to finish your book, so you read snuggled with your back against his chest, while he watched TV. His breath in your neck ran goosebumps over your whole body. One of his hands lay flat on your stomach, keeping you close while his other hand held one of your boobs. Sy loved just holding them. “They fit perfectly. Everything about you is perfect.” He had said after you asked him once, before he had kissed you breathless.

It was Christmas Eve today. Usually you would have spent the day at your restaurant, cooking the most delicious meals, but this year everything was different.

And you enjoyed every single second of it. Who would have thought that it would take a global pandemic for you to finally slow down?

Biting your lip you continued to read your book. It was a cheesy steamy romance novel and Sy so close to you wasn’t making it any easier. The protagonist of the book was asleep in her bed while her husband came home to surprise her after months of being away. Slowly he undressed himself, pulling the covers from her body to find her naked.

You didn’t even notice Sy had stopped watching TV and was reading the lines of the book with you. He had noticed you squirming in his arms, but didn’t want to interrupt your reading. So he read and grinned to himself. He was already half hard from you rubbing your perfect ass against him.

The first thing you noticed while reading was Sy’s hand on your boob as he slowly began to knead it teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. In your book the husband was slowly kissing himself up the body of his wife, while she was still asleep. Sy chose this moment to kiss up your neck, while his hand on your stomach began to move lower. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep.

“Keep reading Peach…” He whispered, kissing you behind your ear while his hand sneaked in between your legs, two of his thick fingers rubbing slow circles over the lace of your panties. Breathing faster you began to rub your ass against his hard growing cock.

Reading became a challenge as he pushed your shirt up to feel your skin, all while he nibbled on your neck.

The wife in the book finally seemed to wake up just when her husband was about to eat her out. Sy chose this moment, still reading with you, to push your panties to the side and push both of his fingers inside of you, making you cry out.

“Kissing her inner thighs he slowly pushed himself between her legs, settling down right in front of what he wanted most. The pussy he had been missing for months…” Sy read the words in your book. Pumping his fingers inside of you while rolling your clit with his thumb, you finally let go of the book, letting it fall to the ground. Reaching behind you put your hand flat on his cock, making him hiss in your ear.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, pushing his boxers down and pumping him just as he angled his fingers inside of you, finding your G- Spot.

“Turn around. I wanna see you.” He whispered back. Pulling your shirt off as you turned around, his hand hooked your leg over his. His lips crashed down on yours, his other arm pulling you close.

“I love you.” You smiled against his lips, your hand finding his cock.

“I love you more.” He smiled back before he ripped the fabric of your panties and pushed inside of you. Kissing him as he pushed in, quietly moaning against his lips your hand flew into his hair massaging the back of his head, making him hum against your lips all while he slowly pushed deeper and deeper.

Sometimes, well most times you liked it rough. And hard. But this, this was about feeling each other. You felt his hand on your ass, urging you closer. Peppering his face with kisses you moaned when his cock brushed over that spot inside of you, that made you feel whole. He stopped when he was fully inside, and you felt so so full. Kissing him again you didn even notice him turning the both of you so he was on top.

“You are so fucking beautiful peach…” He mumbled against your lip before he continued slowly, but deeply pumping into you. You let your hands run up his back, holding onto him like he was your life line.

“All mine....” He growled.

“Ah….” You cried out when he rolled his hips,

“I need…” You breathed. “I…”

“I know what you need peach….” He kissed you again, before he pushed his fingers inside your mouth letting you wet them before he brought his hand down in between your legs, finding your clit. Throwing your head back you cried out, your fingernails scratching down his back.

You were close and you could feel that he was too.

“Open your eyes for me.” Sy groaned and when you did he kissed you again, his tongue diving into your mouth while he continued slowly fucking into you. Warmth spread over your whole body with the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching.

“I’m gonna cum….” Sy moaned. Feeling him release, pumping his seed deep inside of you you cried out, holding him close as your orgasm washed over you, clinging onto him like a koala as your limbs shook.

Out of breath he collapsed on top of you making you giggle as you held him close. Still out of breath he looked at you, seeing you smile at him.

“Do you have more of these books?” He kissed your shoulder.

“That was just the first book, there are 12 more.” You winked.

“Happy Christmas to me.” Sy grinned, before he pushed himself off the couch to stand. You were cold immediately.

“Where are you going?” You asked pulling your shirt down and pushing yourself up so you were leaning on your elbows.

“Heating up the bedroom for the next chapter.” He winked. Shaking your head you looked after him as he walked naked down the hallway.

Happy Christmas indeed.

#fanfic #fanfiction #syverson #captain Syverson #henry cavill #Syverson x reader #Syverson x you #Syverson x ofc

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ckbookish · 3 years

Text

Alfred Pennyworth has never scooped snow

I’m going to try and new thing. So on Discord I do long, stinking head canons, or as Batbirdies has called them mini fic head canons. So I thought it would be fun to post one here.

Alfred Pennyworth has never in his life scooped snow. It started when he lived in England. First him and his mom lived on a counsel housing estate which had gardener that took care of things and they lived in the south so they didn’t get a lot of snow anyway. Never really more than a light dusting.

Then when he worked at MI5 he had a small but very nice flat in London. So again never had to shovel snow.

When he left her majesties service and moved to New Jersey for a calm job buttling for a wealthy family. He for one was excited to put all of the training he had done for an undercover operation to good use-- for something besides assassinating a corrupt businessman-- and working for what seemed to be a genuinely nice young family. But also.... he was very excited at the size of the staff he would be managing.

He had a team of cooks, three maids, a gardener, a footman, a head house keeper. Yes, Alfred was looking forward to letting his (still young but slightly bad) joints rest. New Jersey was cold, colder even then where he grew up in England, and it snowed heavily his first seven winters at the Wayne Manor, but that was for the gardener to deal with. Then the Wayne’s died.

Slowly the staff left, one by one, as the house felt colder and the need for a full team disappeared. There were no house party’s to cater, no guests to change the sheets for. In fact half the house was covered in drop cloths to keep out the dust.

The first snow of the year was harsh. Bruce had a fever from staying out at his parents graves for too long in the cold wet snow, so Alfred—not wanting to leave him alone— hired a snow removal service to come deal with the mess.

As Bruce gets older he seemed to grown to hate the cold white snow more and more. Alfred who had continued to hire a crew to remove it— he was too busy washing clothes and cooking to do it—decided that they would go on a trip during winter to somewhere warmer and sunny. Alfred had hoped it would help Bruce with his depression.

Bruce leaves and Alfred is left in that big house by himself. He is to tired and worried to go out and shovel when the first snow hits. He doesn’t call the crew, or book a service. He goes to bed, the snow still everywhere.

He wakes up the next morning and looks out the wind only to find it magically removed. Alfred blinks and checks the accounts. Someone accessed the house maintenance account and booked a service, but he knows it wasn’t him.

Bruce returns, he is different, still sad but this time he seems to have a direction. Alfred doesn’t understand what he is doing.

Snow falls and Alfred goes to book a service to come remove it. He looks out the window and only to see Bruce out side with the gardener’s old shovel. He’s not wearing a coat. He’s not even wearing a top. Alfred opens up the window and shouts ‘what in heavens name are you doing sir?!’

Bruce looks up at him and just replies ‘training’

Spring comes and Alfred still doesn’t understand what Bruce needs ‘cold resistance training’ for, but the weather is getting warmer and so he hopes that next year Bruce will forget about whatever strange ‘training’ he’s taken up.

Alfred finds the Batcave. He no longer thinks Bruce is sane. But by golly he needs to put stitches on that, ‘so will you stop whinging, sir!’

Bruce brings home a boy three weeks after he sees the boy’s parents die and he thinks we’ll here we go again.

Winter returns and Alfred is filled with dread. He goes to the window ready to see Bruce outside half dressed shoveling again. Alfred double takes.

Dick Grayson is running around holding a large snow shovel. Alfred’s eyes widen. Bruce is chasing after him with a fistful of snow in a gloved hand. Dick scoops snow up with the shovel and flings it with all his might back at Bruce.

Alfred goes to the kitchen and starts coffee and a large pot of tea. When Dick comes in shaking with equal amounts of cold and excitement, Alfred asks him if he had fun.

‘Sure did. I was laughing so hard I think I in hailed some snow up my nose. Alf!’

Bruce comes in and Alfred notices he’s wearing a mismatched set of gloves and one of Dick’s scarves.

‘Alfred did you know Brucester doesn’t have a snow coat?’ Dick asked amazed by the lack of such a necessary item. ‘I lent him one of my scarves and gloves. But we need to go to the store and get him some, because he said there were too small.’

Alfred looks over at Bruce his face is rather flushed but Alfred doesn’t think it’s from the cold.

The snow is shoveled that year in uneven lines and has patches where it hasn’t been removed properly at all. But Alfred thinks it’s the best it’s ever looked.

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Dick Grayson #Snow #CK writes #Ficlet #head canon #DC #Pennyworth #My writing

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west-tokyo-incidents · 2 years

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Wartime Flowers || Part 3

This might be the last part, idk. Might write an epilogue tho.

CWs wound care, infection, q slur (used as such)

He's out of the loop. He hates it.

He's been given part of the story; Paresseux is, in fact, a deserter from the Swiss army, but owns the land here and is, in fact, a French citizen. That's all he has. Zero details. It's the middle of the night. And his mind is fucking swimming.

A few hours ago, he'd heard the sounds of shovels in frost-hardened dirt. One of the other soldiers had offered to say a few words, but Paresseux had told him to shut the fuck up.

An hour or so later, a door slammed.

The man is nothing like what he thought... but still, that small, soft smile from before sticks in his head. The craftsmanship of the bottles and pots in the greenhouse.

He curses the bullet in his leg keeping him among the wounded and not one of the able bodied soldiers to help. He rarely wants to help unless it's just duty. Mostly he wants the excuse to keep talking to him, to find out more, to hear his low, careful voice more.

Sleep takes over at some point. He doesn't know when the roof of the tent morphs into the orchard at sunset. The fruit trees bare of leaves in the early winter, snow covering the ground. His breath visible in the air. His footsteps are crunches in the fresh fallen snow.

Something else is there. Ahead of him. A second set of breaths in the otherwise silent air. He looks up.

The clown.

No.

It isn't a clown. Pure black from the hips down, some kind of skirt? No shirt, but leather straps. After the bare shoulders, the arms become sharp metal, formed into something like great hooks. But his eye is on none of that. But the flat, triangular mask on its face, framed by hair styled like a jester's hat.

"Lieutenant Dubois, I'm not sure if you remember me..."

The glass mask snaps open. One eye is a verdant green and the other a blood red.

Pain lances through his leg and he cries out, ripped awake. Someone swears and apologizes profusely. As he focuses, he realizes his tentmate had tripped and kicked against his leg.

Fuck, that hurts! He loudly swears at the man, his dream wicked out of his memory in an instant.

Shit, that hurt a lot more than it should have.

And he's sweating.

Half an hour later, Paresseux is by his side, examining the oozing wound.

"Lucky me. Not only are you out here in the middle of fucking no where, you were a medic before you deserted."

"And you're the only one I'm willing to treat." Paresseux sighs as he drains the bullet wound, "Unlucky you, this is infected as hell. How were you walking on this?"

Michel grunts his annoyance at that, "High pain tolerance?" He hisses as Paresseux adjusts the tools.

"We'll need to move you into the house. I don't have the fucking room, but I need to get this bullet out of you, sanitize the wound, pack it, and even unluckier, I do not have pain killers." Paresseux chuckles, "Hope your tolerance keeps on."

Michel rolls his eye and rubs a hand over his face. He doesn't answer.

"Do you have an eye in that socket or is it empty?" Paresseux nods at the eyepatch.

"Empty. Shrapnel."

"Washed the eyepatch lately?"

"I'm not taking it off." Michel's voice is a low growl and Paresseux lets the subject fall off there.

"Well, let's get you moved."

A few branches broken between his teeth later and a fresh bandage is going on his leg. Michel focuses just on breathing evenly. His captain and Paresseux get into a not-argument that Michel can't focus on. It's the kind of conversation where words are said that wanted to be spat instead. It's over before he steadies his breathing. He still tastes pine on his tongue and turns his head to the side to spit. His eye peels open and he watches the back of his captain heading out the door.

"What was that...?"

Paresseux sighs, "He's mad I won't treat anyone else and demands to know why I'll treat you."

"... did you tell him?"

Paresseux snorts, "Tell him what? That I'm treating you because I met you for all of five seconds three years ago?" He shakes his head and slumps down in his chair, "I hate the military. Everything to do with it. I only warned you because if those soldiers had taken back that land, I would've been dragged to an execution... and because I saw you."

Michel laughs a little, "Really?"

Paresseux gives him a half assed glare, "So sue me, I'm alone on a mountain side and I ran into a handsome young military man in town." His voice became mumbling as he rambled, "I'm not gonna let you march to your death when I've been looking for you every time I go into town again. And I'm especially not going to let you die of an infection on my doorstep when I know how to slow it."

A long pause. Michel is at a loss for words. Half because he still can't get a full breath and half because he doesn't know what to say.

"Get it over with, already." Paresseux snaps softly, mismatched eyes on the ground, "Call me a freak, a queer, a creep."

"I'd be a hypocrite. And an even bigger fool."

#in an alternate universe Michel not only doesnt die but Paresse is the one to save him #flower shop au but make it military #karakuridoji ultimo #ultimo #karakuridouji ultimo #kdu paresse #michel dubois #michel/paresse #ress writes

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kohakuarisaka · 2 years

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Smoke & Feathers [Cold]

Smoke & Feathers is a collection of writings for my OC, Arisaka Kohaku, and revolve mainly around her relationship with Takami Keigo, or Hawks. These chapters likely will not be written in proper timeline order since I’m just writing ideas as they come to me.

Even though not every chapter will contain the following, for safety, regard as Rated M(18+) for graphic sexual content, canon-typical violence & gore, body horror, and explicit language.

[ Also on my AO3 ] • [ BNHA Fanfic Masterlist on Tumblr ]

Chapter Summary: It was his birthday today. He couldn’t tell her that; but, he liked to think that he still got a gift anyway.

Hawks scoffed at himself.

"Geez..."

It was freezing cold out, a fresh layer of ice over the windows, recently shoveled snow scooped out of the streets, and looming clouds threatening to drop more. He couldn't feel temperature through his feathers, but the harsh winds seemed determined to change that.

The thought to head home only crossed his mind because that was what he should have been doing. But, the second he finished reporting back, he only thought about stopping by a familiar flat. His wings carried him most of the way there before he realized his place was the opposite way.

He should have just headed straight home, minded his own business, slept in his own bed for a change. Instead, he yanked his cellphone out of his pocket, hastily removed the battery from the back, and shoved the separated parts back into his pocket.

The sun set sooner in the winter, and whilst it wasn't super late, it was already pitch black outside; at least, it would have been if the city wasn't as alive as ever.

As he floated overhead, Hawks' keen eyes caught the light on through the balcony's window, which meant she was home, and still awake.

Hawks carefully landed on the platform, wincing when the metal creaked in protest beneath his boots. He shook his wings once with a violent flap to shake off snowflakes trapped in his feathers, and let himself inside. Even on a snowy day, with frost coating the windows, she still left the door unlocked for him.

Hawks called out, "it's me," just as he closed the door behind himself.

It was warm inside and the TV was playing quietly to fill the silence. Kohaku rounded the corner from the kitchen, giving him a curious look. The corner of Hawks' lip curled into an uneasy smile and he shrugged at her casually.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

The simple motion of his wings flexing in against his back gave him plenty of intel on her apartment. She was home alone; but, that didn't mean that he was welcomed. Before he could offer to leave, she was closing in on him, hands tugging at his coat.

"It's wet. I'm'a throw it in the dryer," she proclaimed, not asking, telling.

Hawks' lips twitched into a smile and he shifted his arms back and lowered his wings to help her remove it.

"Sorry. I should have warned you," he offered. "Never know when my missions are gonna end and - ugh..."

Kohaku hummed in response, trotting away to make for the laundry closet. Hawks' eyes scanned the room in her absence, realizing she had cleared some furniture to make room for a kotatsu. It was rounded, a pale birch colored surface, with a navy futon underneath, adorned with white cranes.

A rich aroma was permeating through the living room, and Hawks realized what he had interrupted.

"I didn't bring anything," he explained meekly when she returned.

Finally, Hawks took a moment to get a good look at her, and could almost laugh. She was barefoot in the winter. Sure, it was indoors; but, even then, most would find it too cold to at least not pull on some slippers. Her long hair was pulled back into a braid that was falling apart.

Kohaku just laughed at his statement, well aware and unperturbed.

"Just kick me out," Hawks retorted, some humor in his tone, to lighten the mood, to make it easier on her.

Kohaku waved at him offhandedly, turning on her heels to head for the kitchen.

"Help me carry this - after you take your shoes off," she called.

Hawks turned around and spotted the mat at the balcony door. Normal people didn't enter their home through the balcony, so there wasn't adequate space for a shoe rack. She had gone out and bought that for him, a large, rough mat specifically for him to take his shoes off-

-which he did, leaning against the wall by his shoulder, before heading to the kitchen, as she requested.

There was an electric pot sitting on her counter. Even with the lid on, delicious aromas floated through the house.

Hawks sent a handful of feathers to dip beneath the pot and a few more when it proved heavier than expected. The plumes floated it over to the kotatsu while Kohaku carried a basket over; at a glance, Hawks spotted enoki mushrooms, tofu, and cabbage.

When she set the basket down and he got a better look, he also identified fish cakes, glass noodles and hard boiled eggs. Kohaku stood back up and nudged him towards the kotatsu with a pat on the shoulder before returning to the kitchen.

Hawks stood there and stared down at assortment of food, feeling out of place and contemplating a swift getaway. When Kohaku returned, she set down a tray of raw meat, thinly sliced beef and pork, that was definitely not enough for the both of them.

"What do you want to drink?" she offered, setting down a beer can for herself.

Hawks frowned at the can, replying, "this is enough."

Hawks was still standing there awkwardly, socks on the wood floors, hero suit clinging to his skin. Did he smell bad? He couldn't tell. He probably looked like shit, too.

This was stupid-

But, Kohaku just sat down and peered up at him sweetly, inviting him to join her with just her pale eyes.

Finally, he sat down, and carefully tucked his legs beneath the kotatsu, unbothered by his wings dragging on the floor behind him. They needed to be preened anyway, and the delicious smell of the broth combined with his empty stomach was starting to get to him.

Hawks waited until Kohaku picked up her chopsticks to do the same. However, just as he dropped in some tofu, she set the chopsticks down and opened her beer with a loud snap.

"I thought you hated tofu?" she inquired with a smirk.

"Maybe I want to try the broth first," he replied like an offended child.

Kohaku laughed, and Hawks added on softly, "thank you for the food."

She hummed in response and dropped in some cabbage and mushrooms. Hawks followed up the tofu with some noodles. Neither paid attention to the TV and it simply became background noise, the displayed contents hardly crossing either of their thoughts.

Hawks didn't let the tofu cool properly before plopping it in his mouth. Kohaku watched him flap his gums wildly, trying to endure the heat until it cooled enough for him to actually enjoy it. Her face was scrunched, struggling to not laugh at him.

"Hey, don't laugh at my suffering!" he sputtered in faux offense.

"Ok, chicken," she chuckled. "Do the beef this time."

Hawks dropped in two pieces and ignored her glare when he scooped one out a few minutes later and dropped it on her plate. She returned the gesture with some mushrooms and laughed at his pout.

"I'm allergic to mushrooms," he protested.

"No, you're not," she protested with a soft laugh.

They were quiet for a minute or two before Hawks filled the silence with a quiet, "how was your Christmas?"

"I covered someone's route," she replied plainly.

Kohaku could see a retort on Hawks' lips; however, he likely realized how hypocritical that was, and decided to keep it to himself. A few more minutes passed and Kohaku stood up to toss her empty beer can into the recycling bin.

She came back with another, cold from the fridge, and watched Hawks take it from her hand. He popped it open and took a sip, grimacing immaturely before setting it down on her side of the kotatsu.

"You're such a girl," she laughed, lowering herself back into her spot.

Hawks dropped a couple fishcakes into the broth, raising his brow at her and contorting his face as if he was offended.

"How dare you," he complained.

Kohaku lifted in response, and the look of contempt dissolved off his face.

"I have wine, too," she offered, eyes glossy for a moment. "The sweet plum kind. Dad gave it to me the other day."

Hawks stared at her, feeling a tinge of guilt that she was offering to share something that special with him.

"No. That's alright," he replied quietly, scooping a mushroom out of the broth. It had been in there a little too long and was wrinkly.

"See? The mushrooms aren't bad," she suggested softly, watching him chew it.

He didn't look too impressed, and she couldn't hold back laughter at the look on his face as he dramatically shifted his jaw.

"Better than the cabbage," he retorted eventually.

There was a slight pink tinge to her cheeks; but, Hawks knew two beers wasn't enough to do her in. He felt one of her bare feet nudge at his leg beneath the kotatsu, an accident, most likely. But, he didn't shift away, and neither did she.

"The cabbage is delicious," she protested sometime afterward.

"It's like-" Hawks began, pausing to scoop some out with his chopsticks.

Kohaku watched him nibble a small piece with fascination in her eyes. She laughed at the expression of horror he made.

"-grass," he finished with a grimace.

Her foot affectionately nudged the side of his knee beneath the kotatsu, most definitely on purpose this time.

"Does not," she protested, scooping a large piece out of the broth. Hawks watched her spin it on her plate until it was wadded up and easily to pop into her mouth.

"All that teeth and you eat cabbage," he observed teasingly.

"We can't all live off chicken," she laughed.

They continued to eat, dropping food on each other's plates more so than their own, and traded back and forth gripes and exchanges that barely counted as proper conversation. They didn't really need to talk, and both had little that the other didn't already know about anyway.

Eventually, the broth was mostly dissolved and all the food was gone. Hawks scooped the electric pot into his arms while Kohaku carried the plates and containers. After setting everything in the kitchen, Hawks was pulled back to the kotatsu, and didn't resist.

Kohaku worked off her buzz with some tea, just barely paying attention to the TV, while Hawks mostly watched the pink drain from her cheeks, and occasionally pretended to care about whatever was displaying on the screen.

"You don't have to do all this, you know," Hawks offered, giving her a sincere look.

"I like spending time with you, birdbrain," she retorted sharply, flashing an annoyed look at his insistence. "Even if I have to feed you to get you to sit still for two seconds."

"I thought - what'd you say - you weren't hosting a bed and breakfast?" Hawks asked, flashing a cheeky smile.

"You're always welcome here," she grumbled, gently kicking at his thigh beneath the kotatsu.

Of course he knew that; it was precisely why he kept stopping by uninvited, so he could cling to the shattered pieces of a normal life. He had become addicted to this feeling: a home that wasn't empty, a bed with someone else in it, homecooked meals and bickering arguments over nothing.

Hawks reached over the kotatsu and pulled Kohaku's hands into his own. She watched him curiously as he cupped her smaller hands in his larger ones, bringing them between his palms.

"You're warm," he explained, curling his fingers in to try and touch as much of her skin as possible.

"Your fingers are like icicles," she hissed.

Hawks held tight with a stern look on his face, even when she squealed and tried to pull her hands back.

"You're so cold, Hawks. Let go!" Kohaku complained, her face contorted between discomfort and laughter.

It was ridiculous. He felt evil and loved every second of it.

"Nah. You're warming me up," he retorted quietly.

Her squirming resulted in her legs brushing against his beneath the comforter. She could easily escape him, and he knew that. Still, she stayed and wiggled around as if helpless but to let him freeze her hands off.

"Haaawks," she whined, pulling against his grip limply and making noises that sounded like bubbly laughter between annoyed grunts.

Then, suddenly, she stopped, and frowned at him.

"I take it all back," she uttered, monotone and insincere. "You can eat my food, but stealing my warmth is unacceptable."

Hawks laughed, loud and uninhibited.

By now, his hands didn't feel cold anymore. Even when he stopped gripping so tightly, even when his hands were resting limp on the kotatsu and she was free, she didn't pull away from his touch, leaving her hands cradled in his.

"I'm gonna go to bed in a bit. Are you staying?"

She was subtle about it, or maybe Hawks was just imagining things; but, it sounded like she was fine with him staying the night.

It was the same as any other night, realistically; but, it felt different. She was likely picking up on his aversion, even with there being no obvious reason for her to think anything was different today. It could have been the cold, the festivities.

Maybe, he could let himself believe that she really wanted him to stay.

Eventually, Hawks answered hoarsely, "yeah."

She smiled, and he felt better, worries washing away by the reassuring look on her face.

He could have tonight, right?

It would be okay, right?

Not long after, Kohaku was turning off the lights while Hawks stripped off the remaining articles of his hero costume in the laundry room, tossing them in the dryer and setting a timer. He pulled on the lounge pants she had gotten him. They were a little too big, but that was okay.

This space was hers; but, sometimes, he forgot that. It was easy to when she strategically left things around for him, moved furniture to accommodate his wingspan, had extra pillows propped up on the headboard, on his side of the bed.

...his side of the bed.

He maneuvered easily through the darkness of the room and easily fell into the bed right beside her. It was a familiar gesture at this point: wiggling beneath the blanket while his wings occupied the rest of the space behind him, fanned out wide.

Kohaku sighed when his hand slid up the bare skin of her back. She wiggled back to greet him, and he found the strength to let go of all of those doubts.

"...it was nice, you know," she whispered into her pillow.

Hawks didn't answer with words, but lowered his hand and curled it around her front, pressing down farther until he touched the edge of her underwear. She moaned softly and elevated her hips a bit to encourage him.

Just as he pushed his hand down her underwear, Hawks flattened against her back with a pleased grunt, laying his cheek against the back of her neck.

As he touched her, she moaned, "oh, Hawks-"

He had barely started; but, she was already slippery and wet. He didn't need to ask, for she was already reaching back to tug at the waistband on his pants. He didn't bother helping, getting some satisfaction from watching her struggle to tug his pants down enough to free his cock.

Her legs bent, feet curling against his calves, and he took the opportunity to tug her underwear down. She worked them the rest of the way off with some wiggling before arching back.

The familiarity of it became apparent when Hawks realized he hadn't even kissed her yet. Her head was still on the pillow, hair pushed out of the way, and she looked relaxed, sleepy even. Still, nothing felt lacking. It felt like another day, and many more chances to do this would come.

He found her with practiced hands, tilted his hips and slipped inside like he owned her body. It was a dangerous thought; but, he knew every scar, felt every inch from the inside out. He exhaled a heavy breath against her skin and she moaned weakly at their union.

One hand was gripped at the meat of her waist while the other worked its way beneath the pillow her head rested on and gripped the edge of the bed. He moved lazily, slow rolls of the hips and dragging his cock in and out of her like he had all the time in the world for this moment.

She released weak little breaths when he slid out and gasped when he drove back in. One of her legs laid flat on the bed while the other was tangled with his.

He adjusted his position, shifted his hips just a little bit, and received a very affirming moan on the next thrust. One of her hands reached back, fumbling at his cheek instead of his hair. He turned his head and bit her palm gently.

He let go of her hip and reached down to lazily tug at her clit with the pad of his finger. She tightened around him, gasping at the sudden friction, and he groaned into the flesh his teeth was pressed into.

He didn't feel like an outsider in this bed, or a stranger when he touched her. Her gasps didn't feel stolen and the pleasure he got from her body didn't feel undeserving.

Teeth released her palm, and instead, Hawks bit down on her neck, marveling in the sharp gasp she released. He wanted to tell her; but, he knew he shouldn't, and kept himself quiet by occupying his mouth.

Kohaku was moaning, broken things that could have been his hero name, hushed in the darkness of her bedroom. He wasn't going fast enough to come; but, it was worth it to feel her tighten and hear a snarl hiss through her teeth as she tried to suppress a pleasured sob.

"Hawks," she choked out, breathless and in ecstasy.

Suddenly and harshly, he yanked out and rolled Kohaku onto her back, throwing her legs up onto his waist. He shoved back into her with a wet slap, silencing her scream with his mouth. She worked her fingers through his hair, tugging and caressing, and dug her heels into his back.

"Hawks - hey, are you okay?" she cooed, lips moving against his as she spoke.

"-missed you," he offered hoarsely.

"You k-know how to find me, silly - ah-" she huffed out, breaking off into a weak moan.

It was his birthday today.

She didn't know, and he couldn't tell her.

But, as he stole the breath from her lungs, he liked to think that she gave him a gift anyway.

For just a little while, he had a home.

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