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balkanradfem · 2 years

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Scary story about a river incident

This is going to be a scary and upsetting story, and talk about a male predator, so be warned if you’re not feeling up to these topics!

So the year is 2016, and I’ve just recently moved into the city, and discovered that if you walk very far into the fields outside, you will eventually reach a meeting place of two rivers, and witness gorgeous waterfalls. It took 40 minutes to walk there, so not a lot of people knew about this place or went there. Most of the times I would go, it was a private little field trip, and the water just before the waterfalls was incredibly deep and perfect for swimming.

I was there in the water one day in the late summer. It was getting late, but the sun was still reaching the last rays of light into the water, and I have found a neat little place on the other side of the river with sand, rocks and shells. I was having the time of my life diving under, finding pretty shells and rocks and stashing them for my treasured collection.

At some point, another person arrived to the river, from the same side as I did, but different access point. I wasn’t bothered by it, my things were hidden well, sometimes young people would come and play in the river, they usually never bothered me, so I disregarded this and kept playing with my shells.

I hadn’t realized it was a male person, and I haven’t realized that he took into the water and started swimming directly towards me, until he was already only a few feet away. He was old, but he was strong. He looked 60-ish, but his body was double my size. He was swimming fast. I was at that point, 26, but I looked younger. I had struggled to eat enough and I was underweight. I had nothing on this guy.

Before I could gather myself, he was reaching his arms around me; I was in a neat little corner with rocks behind me, and he was reaching one arm on the rock, and other around me, his goal was to trap me between the rocks and his body. I didn’t have more than a second to realize what’s going on, and guided by instinct, I dove underwater before he was able to trap me, and swam to the direction of my access point, at the other side of the river.

At that point I was practicing swimming, and I was fast, but he could probably outswim me. He hadn’t tried though. I think he was in a bit of a shock that I ran away so immediately, and he couldn’t see where I went because I kept underwater for as long as I could. When i was already halfway to the shore,my head visible, he yelled after me: “I WAS JUST TRYING TO ASK HOW THIS WATERFALL LOOKED BEFORE THE WAR!!!”

I was absolutely outraged he would, after sending me running with intense predatory behaviour, still try to play it off as ‘you’re rude for assuming, I was attempting to engage in polite conversation here’, so I screamed back: “I. WASN’T. ALIVE BACK THEN!”

That should make it clear I’m not falling for his blatant gaslighting and point out how insanely inappropriate he is, I thought. But the truth was, I was traumatized to the point where I didn’t feel safe ignoring someone yelling at me. I swam to my stuff, and at that point, he was still at the same place he attacked me, so I thought, okay, he knows now I don’t want him anywhere close and that he’s being inappropriate, he’s on the other side of the river, he can’t approach me fast, I should be safe. So I sat down. I was wrong. He saw me sit, and started swimming towards me.

I was, once again, appalled. But also scared. I grabbed my stuff and without pausing to dress, started running away. He again yelled after me in another attempt ‘MAYBE YOUR PARENTS KNOW’ and I shouted back running ‘THEN ASK THEM!!!’ as if it was not absolutely insane that I was being talked down to while running away from a predator.

It was then I realized how unsafe it was to be 40 minutes away from civilization, while alone with a predator, next to a river. I needed to get back to the city fast, where this guy wouldn’t be able to openly chase me without anyone seeing it. I ran thru a grassy field, feeling uncomfortable, but sure that this would completely save me, because he was still swimming, and I was sure I could run very fast, and there’s no way he would still try to go after me after I escaped him twice.

Then, the unthinkable happened. He got into his car and chased me with a vehicle.

I didn’t even notice he had a car on his access point. I had only realized it when the car lights appeared on the trail behind me. It was twilight, and the night was falling fast. I was uncomfortably visible on the grass field, and I ran as fast as I could, because, I knew after this field, there was a turn, and I’d be invisible for a bit, and the turn led around a corn field, and corn field was a place I could hide in.

I ran into the corn field absolutely terrified, made sure I was out of sight and hidden, crouched down so I would be completely invisible, and then stayed still. Waiting. His car lit the road, and I could see him going, he passed me, and he reached the middle of the field, and then, he stopped. He must have realized that he should have already ran into me, and since he didn’t, he knew I was behind him. I didn’t see if he got out of the car. I didn’t move. I knew if I made a sound, if he saw some corn move, I’d be located instantly. I crouched and waited.

I couldn’t tell you for how long that car was standing there. Probably 5-10 minutes. You can imagine it felt longer to a woman hiding in a corn field. But, I wasn’t found. And eventually, the car started moving again. It went away. I didn’t move. I stayed where I was, for I don’t remember how long. I needed to be sure. Once I peeked out to the road, I looked for any sign of light. It wasn’t there. I tentatively walked to the edge of the field, where I could see more of the road. Nothing. It was all empty. There was nobody there anymore. I was safe.

You’d imagine I went home that night feeling shaken, scared, anxious and upset, but you’d be wrong. I was beside myself with joy. This was my first time, ever, that I was chased by a violent man attempting to harm me, and got away! I was at that point, victimized by 20+ years of violence behind closed doors, and I would never, never manage to get away from it, regardless of running, because the predator was a family member, and convinced me that he had a claim on abusing me, but this? It was a predator in nature, and the nature was my turf, I knew how to get around there, and my instincts had served me so well, and I listened to them properly, and just because I was so quick to get away, the predator was stumped enough to not be able to catch me! I was then, sure that alone in the wild, I was untouchable, invincible, safe from any harm. Ah, to be young and fearless.

In retrospect, I’m now getting cold chills realizing how close I was form being a corpse in the river. The corn field was the only thing that saved me. if it had been any other time of the year, and the corn wasn’t as tall and as perfect of a hiding place, I’d have been painfully visible on those fields. I would have had to attempt to hide in the grass.

Of course, 26yo me came back to the waterfalls a week later, convinced it was a ‘one-time-predator-thing’ and luckily I never again ran into that guy, I did have another close call with another dude, but it was less scary, with less running involved. I still do visit the waterfalls but less often, as I found swimming places that are closer by. This was, by far, my most dangerous encounter with a predator, tho I had about 5 more happen thru my life, and successfully got away from them all. The danger of violence towards women in public is generally much more rare because m*n usually go for women they feel they have the claim to, and who can’t get away, like daughters, wives, cousins, sisters, mothers. That kind of abuse is almost certain to get them no consequences. If they go after a woman they don’t know, it is possible a male family member would come after them, for attacking what they believe is theirs, so it’s a bit more of a risky bet. Except, of course, if you’re 40 minutes away from a living soul and next to a river, then the rules change a bit.

My perspective was that because this was a stranger, I was free to run, where as in my family, running was sure to be punished with worse violence, and I was conditioned not to even attempt it. So even just running away, scary as it was, felt freeing for me. I didn’t have any pride left so jumping into ‘prey animal’ mode to protect myself from abuse was just, a situation that would come up sometimes. I didn’t yet think of it as a proof that I’m not living in a humane society, and that obviously I wasn’t equal to half of it, for they would always be a predatory threat to me.

It strikes me still how much this predator aimed at my socialization to stop me from running, trying to talk me out of my instincts, implying I was rude for assuming anything, trying to shame me for running, while he also blatantly chased me with his car. I hope this can serve as a sign to never try to be polite or allow innocent assumptions for a male whose actions make you uncomfortable or threatened. I’d have been better not to reply, as it only gave him incentive to try to talk more, but alas, one cannot be perfect.

If you’re all worried about me, just remember I will be okay with my nature adventures and everything else risky I do, once I live in separatist space, away and protected, wielding the nature barriers between me and the males, safe from all predatory harm.

#male violence #male predators #incident #story #storytime #let me know if you want to hear the other predator close call i had #its also about me using nature to protect myself lol #i still believe that nature is my turf #and that i'm so great at running away #because like to believe otherwise would not bring me joy #but i'm also scared shitless of my family so #i mean family is worse #definitely worse

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hiiie · 1 year

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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !!

𓆩♡𓆪 summary - how they hold you while getting intimate

𓆩♡𓆪 characters - Kaeya, Alhaitham, Kaveh x fem reader

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings - we're doing it raw today guys, creampie, teasing, degrading, mirror fucking, kaveh gobbling up yr pussy

✧ ALHAITHAM ✧

Another mean one, he always has his ways with you, it’s frustrating really, to have him dominate you, push your face into the silky sheets on his bed, bully his way inside your gooey cunt, degrading you until you’re sobbing, all while holding your hands tenderly

His balls slapping against your ass so harsh making sounds echo through his room, you almost felt pity for his roommate until that one particular thrust pulling your thoughts back to him, making your back arched in an inhumane way, you’re so sure that you wouldn’t make it through tonight without snapping your spine in half

“Tell me…do you want me to cum inside hmm dear?”

“Aah-! Please!” His hand applying pressure on your abdomen with a shit eating smirk on his face, knowing full well you love it when he does that, when his eyes met yours his breath got caught up in his throat

His deep green eyes bore into your glassy teary ones, you can’t help but look down where both of you were connected, a combination of your cum and his making a mess, his fingers now toying with your pussy

“Cum with me then”

It was like magic, his words had a heavy impact on you, he leaned down kissing your cheek so sweetly that you could’ve melted on the spot, you came alongside him, strings of his warm fluid painting your insides white, some of your combined liquids flow out your gaping hole as he pulled out

✧KAEYA✧

Holding your waist with one of his hand and the other on your thigh, drawing spreading it wider for him to access and admire his prized jewel. His thrusts are getting quicker, sharper, his hips banging against your puffy clit so hard it made your eyes roll to the back of your head making you see stars, mouth agape but alas no words came out of it, you let out a breathy moan of his name.

It was as if he actually fucked you dumb and turned you into his mindless cumdump

“How adorable” he leaned close beside your ear, cradling your chin between his pointer finger and thumb “Does my cock actually feel that good huh..” his breath makes you tingle

He pulled away, admiring his latest artwork, he his hand leaves your waist and presses down on the bites he made on your collarbone, “N—ngh” earning an annoyed whine from you

“Tsk what a spoiled brat”

He stopped his thrusts completely before pulling his cock out of your pussy, he left you alone, all messy and wanting more

Sure you can call him a bastard and other mean names but he’s the only who could make you cum right now but he's capable of refraining himself from touching you unless you get on your knees and beg for him

Oh— don’t expect him to be gentle either.

✧KAVEH✧

A mirror placed in front of you, on it reflects a pornographic scene of you getting fucked by your lover, not in a brutal way, no no kaveh would never

Oh he’s just so soft, so gentle and so patient with you, he holds you in the most loving way possible, his arms around your waist protectively helping you bounce on his cock, hands lingering everywhere on your body but your pussy, mumbling sweet I love yous into your ear, you can hear every little sounds that escapes through his pretty lips

The loud groan when you ‘accidentally’ tighten around him whist his cock brushes against your cervix, directly sending tingles down your spine, giving you goosebumps

He licks a stripe down your jawline to your shoulder, then proceeds to suck and nibble on it, leaving evident bite marks, marking his property

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the lewd scene in the mirror, because you know that he’s looking right at you like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He’s mumbling praises, even adding words you didn’t knew existed until now, worshipping your body like he’s your devoted little believer, your moans sound so heavenly so angelic to him

His grip on your waist getting tighter as he gets closer to sweet release, peppering gentle kisses on your skin, you'll think this is over? nahh its just the appetizer— he hasn't even got to the main course yet, are you that cruel to let him starve and not allow him to eat you out?

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bi-writes · 2 months

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mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon

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alwaysrainysoul · 9 months

Text

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗲

yan! satoru gojo x reader

warnings; power dynamic, dark themes, being chased down, teasing, mention of dead friends

"where?!" you thought frantically as you scanned the room for a place to hide, knowing that the strongest sorcerer was hunting for you.

you were the prey and he was the predator.

suddenly you noticed a decently sized closet and quickly hid. you knew he was coming, but that didn't stop you from trying.

out of nowhere you started hearing footsteps right outside the room you hid in. suddenly the door fell to the floor with a loud crash! dust kept flying around and tickling your nose, making you want to sneeze.

"(name)~." you heard satoru calling out mockingly.

"there's no use in hiding, after all you can't hide from me." satoru said smiling widely.

his eyes darted around the room looking for you, until he noticed the closet. his eyes fully fixed onto the closet as he kept walking closer.

"really (name)? could you hide in a more obvious place? i guess this is why the prey are so stupid and the predators are well... predators for a reason." satoru jokingly said while his hands were gripping the closet handle.

"boo!" he said as he laughed while opening the closet door looking at your frightened face. you stared at him with open eyes and a heaving chest.

"how is he able to make a joke right now?" you thought to yourself while being shit scared

"oh my god you should have seen your face." satoru said while wiping away a tear that escaped his eye. finished laughing he stared at you for a few seconds, the silence deafening.

after what felt like an eternity, he grabbed you harshly out of the closet while pulling you close to him. you were pressed up against his chest, making him look down at you.

"you really thought you had a chance at escaping huh?" he said whispering down at you.

"let me go! i don't want to be with you, satoru! you've turned into a madman! i dont even know what happened to you! you were a normal healthy person, my best friend, and then one day.." you stopped halfway, "i couldn't recognize who you were anymore." you replied while trying to escape his hold which was impossible.

"really? you want to know why i turned out like this (name)? it's because of you. ever since that day, the day i realized that i was madly in love with you.

everything i do is for you. i breathe for you, live for you, kill for you! i keep you safe from curses, other sorcerers and humans. you are so special to me, (name). cant you see that?" satoru asked while his hand slid around your waist pulling you even closer.

"well that's one way to show it!" you said jokingly with a frustrated tone.

"you're insane at this point satoru!"

"you better be careful with what you say, (name). i wouldn't want you to end up like your friends." he said with a cold voice and a piercing cold gaze looking right at you. his presence instantly turning dark.

you couldn't even look at him so you kept looking down. satoru noticed and he grabbed your chin harshly and made you forcefully look at him. you felt as if your jaw was going to snap in two, your whole face went nearly numb at how hard he was holding.

"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩? 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙚. 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚, 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙? 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?"

hehe...

art creds : here

#yandere scenarios #yandere x you #soft yandere #possessive #possesiveness #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yandere gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

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littlenightma · 3 months

Note

Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?

Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)

• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.

• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.

• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.

• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.

• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.

• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.

• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.

• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.

• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.

• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…

• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.

• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.

• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.

• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.

• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.

• But maybe not for the worst.

#jeepers creepers x reader #jeepers creepers #jonathan breck #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher community #yandere #jeepers creepers (2003)#slasher headcanons

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way-of-eywa · 3 months

Text

Hearts in Training

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Wordcount: 2.998

Genre: slight angst(?), fluff

A/N: I'm just getting back into writing after a long time. Obsessed with Avatar atm, and seeing these Challenges going around sparked some inspiration, so here it is. This will be my first post on this blog and I hope it's readable and enjoyable for you guys. There will be use of (Y/N). Feel free to let me know what you think or if I'm missing something.

This is for Day 1 of the #Crybabies14DOL2024.

You were hanging out with Lo'ak on the beach near Awa'atlu village. You were lying on your back, having eyes closed and enjoying the happy squeaking sounds the Ilus made, the sound of the sea, the soft noises the waves made, crashing against high, towering cliffs. In the distance, you could hear other people talk and laugh. A smile spread on your lips.

"What you smiling at?", Lo'ak asked, curiosity swinging in the undertone. "Thinking about him?" You could hear the tease in his voice, which cracked slightly. "Huh?" was all you managed to say. You opened your eyes to your right, where your best friend sat, leaning backward and holding himself up on his elbow. "Oh, you heard me!" A smirk plastered on his face. A feeling of being caught in something [unholy, forbidden] rushed through your body. "What do you mean?" trying to play the innocent card, you sat up straight, trying to look everywhere else but at that tall blue Na'vi.

„(Y/N), really? Come on, It's obvious", he stated and sat up straight too. "The crush you have on my big brother." In protest, you gasped and quickly turned to him to talk back, but Lo'ak threw his hands up. "No allegation. Just an observation." Dang it, you thought. Was it really that obvious? You were indeed crushing on your best friend's brother, Neteyam. This fact alone already sucked, but what made it even worse was the fact that he was trying to teach you how to use a bow and some other basic hunting skills. The few lessons you already had, ever since the Sullys had moved to the East Coast, taking you with them, were tiring. Not alone the fact that aiming simply seemed like a task your brain couldn't really figure out how it was done, but also how nervous you were near him, unable to think straight or continue doing whatever task you happened to work on right before he was there.

Lost in thoughts, you stared at the ground and sighed, pulling your legs to the chest, wrapping your arms around them, and resting your chin on the knee. Finally, looking up at Lo'ak. Two of his braids were falling over his face, caused by tilting his head to the site. "Is it really that bad?" your voice was no more than a slight whisper. There was still a tiny spark of hope inside you that this wasn't the case, but the look in his big yellow eyes said enough, and he smiled apologetically. "Do you think he knows?" with a shaky voice, you asked the question that lingered on the top of your tongue. Your best friend thought about it for a second. Then he frowned and then slowly shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. He might be the older one, but not necessarily the smarter", he joked and showed his white teeth with a big grin.

Then, from one second to the next, Lo'ak's smile vanished from his face, his ears dropping a bit, his tail swayed a little less relaxed from side to side, and he looked pretty serious. "Speaking of…" Right when the boy next to you wanted to say something, you could already hear someone call for you, and that someone put a harsh tone on. "F-" You caught yourself before you started swearing. Having a relaxing time with your bestie made you forget… "Too late to run?" you breathed and didn't dare to move a single muscle as if you were the prey, trying to hide from the predator, hoping not moving made you magically invisible. "Yeah"

"(Y/N), I was looking for you everywhere!" Neteyam's husky voice was loud and clear when he came to a halt before you, blocking the sun from your sight. He slightly leaned over you and squinted his eyes in disappointment while stemming his hands on his hips.

"You're late…again", he growled, and it was easy to tell how annoyed he was. His ears were pinned against his head, and the way his tail moved furiously around. "I'm so sorry, Neteyam." Jumping to your feet, apologizing. The older one shook, barely noticeable his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. If you had these cat-like ears and a tail, both would be as close to your body as they could be to express how bad you felt.

"I thought you wanted to learn to defend yourself and use a bow. Listen, if you don't want to learn…" - "It's my fault bro", interrupted the younger one his brother, standing up. Compared to you, a human, both were giants, yet in comparison to each other, Lo'ak was half a head smaller than Neteyam. "I was distracting her. Wanted to have a swim and needed some advice. Pressing his lips to a thin line, the older yellow eyes returned to his younger brother. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second before he turned his attention back to you, asking if you guys wanted to start training now, to which you nodded yes. Neteyam seemed to relax a bit before he nodded toward the nearby forest. "Let's go then," he said, and he started walking. You were quick to follow him, leaving Lo'ak behind. __________________________________________________

"Okay, okay. Try again! The last one wasn't that bad. You improved definitely", sending you an encouraging smile while not completely sounding sure of it. You appreciated the comforting words regarding your almost nonexistent skill of shooting an arrow. Neteyam had marked a few trees as targets with differences in height & distance. Most of the time, you missed a fairly wide range around the targets that are on focus.

He nods his head towards the target, meaning for you to shoot. You took a deep breath in, holding the bow into place. Pulling the string back, the back of your hand touching your cheek. Holding the arrow between your pointer finger and middle finger. You could feel his presence on your back and how he softly let his fingers glide over the skin of your forearm, holding the arrow in place and correcting your position. Feeling a little overwhelmed by the touch of his four-fingered hands, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that spread through your body, you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Good, just like that," he whispered in your ear. You could feel his breath on your neck and you slightly shuttered. Without realizing it, when turning your head to look at him barely, you let go of the string, and the arrow landed somewhere between two bushes.

With every missed shot, your frustration grew, and you complained about how this didn't make sense, and it was a waste of time, which wasn't helpful with the tension between the two of you. "Maybe if you would take this whole thing more seriously, practice more, and actually show up on time," he snapped back and crossed his arms over his chest while leaning against a tree behind you. Holding your stance, you turned your head back to him, eyebrows almost touching. "I am trying! As if I don't have any other things to do." Trying to defend yourself, your voice got a bit louder. Neteyam huffed, ears pointed back. "Right. Hanging out with Lo'ak must be so tiring for you that you can't take the time for practice. Poor (Y/N)", his voice oozed in sarcasm. You stared at each other with dislike, noticing how his tail infinitely wagging in every direction possible.

Your grip on the bow tightened while your stomach felt like it got eaten by a wormhole. Him pulling the Lo'ak card took you by surprise. Yes, Lo was your best friend. Yes, you did spend time with him, but you hadn't had that in a while, before that. Since Kiri had that seizure while connecting to the spirit tree in the Cove of the Ancestors, you had helped Max & Norm research the cause. Neteyam actually knew that, but apparently, he didn't care. Just as you opened your mouth to point that out, he spoke and his voice was cold and distant. "I have better things to do than trying to teach your incompetent ass something you don't seem to care about. What a waste of time." The last part was almost a whisper, as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. Shocked, your eyes open wide. Now that was really mean. The anger that had built up was instantly replaced by a stinging pain in your chest. It hit so hard that your eyes burned, and your vision blurred.

For a second, you couldn't move. Your body felt like it weighed tons, pulling towards the ground and keeping you in place. Not wanting him to see you cry and how much he just had hurt you, you let your head drop and looked somewhere else. Not really seeing much more than colored blobs. Neteyam had noticed. Yet, instead of calming down, he got more angry. Most of this was directed towards himself but he let it out on you. Partly because you were the reason why he was so frustrated. He liked you. A human, but that wasn't the problem. Even though his mother wouldn't enjoy that part. He was the oldest. He was next in line to become Olo'eyktan. He had to be this perfect son and warrior. He was expected to watch his little bro constantly and is responsible for his actions. They were like yin and yang, the complete opposite of the other. He didn't understand how and why you would enjoy time with Lo'ak more than with him. At least he tried to help you improve and learn how to survive and fight. What did Lo'ak teach you? Or was exactly that the problem?

Neteyam couldn't believe what happened and turned around and lowered his head, covering his face with one hand and rubbing his eyelids while letting out a deep breath. "What the heck, bro!?" Both of you flinched at the unexpected voice and turned in that direction. There he was; Lo'ak. He quickly glanced at you before staring furiously at his older brother. Just for a second, you wondered how much Lo'ak happened to hear, then without intention, you dropped the bow, and your short legs ran as fast as they could, away from that situation, away from him. _________________________________________________________

Not sure how long you ran, you just knew that with every second you got faster and faster, out the woods and along the beach, past the village marui. And it felt good. You didn't want to stop. The only thing that mattered now was putting one foot in front of the other. Something you could do. Moving set your mind on a break.

It only lasted so long, till you got tired & your moves got a little sloppy, resulting in stumbling over your feet and falling face-front in the sand. Heavy breathing you turned onto your back. Luckily, you had a mask for breathing, so you had no trouble with sand ending up in your nose, mouth, or eyes. The glass fogged up while your breath slowly calmed down. For a while, you just stared at the already-setting sky. Calming down, your mind started playing again and went through every word Neteyam said, the way he acted. Like you were such a pain in the ass. It was his idea to teach you. Stuff like that wasn't your thing, but it meant spending time with him, and that was something you were really interested in. If you had known that it was so hard for you to understand the basics or execute the right pose, it would be so embarrassing and humiliating for you. Not being able to concentrate cause all you could focus on was how he moved. The look in his eyes. The way he smiled, moved, talked.

The lump in your throat prevented you from taking a breath, causing you to twitch till you finally let out a loud sob, which turned into a small scream. The force it took to let that out had massive pressure on your head and eyes. Feeling like they were about to explode. __________________________________________________________

In the meantime, you weren't aware that Neteyam finally came back down to Pandora & his senses. While he usually was the taller, older one lecturing his younger brother, it was different; Neteyam shrunk a couple of inches, tail tucked between his legs, ears flat against his head. Guilt was written on his face. Lo'ak shook his head in disappointment & stood tall, head high, in front of his brother. "Why you acting like such a skxawng? What's wrong with you?"

Neteyam looked like he got a few years older in a matter of a few minutes. He let himself slide down on a tree nearby and closed his eyes. Lo'ak waited for his brother to answer his question, but he didn't plan to answer anytime soon, so he sat beside him. He wouldn't leave before he finally talked to him about it. For a few minutes, they just sat there in silence. "So?" The older one took a deep breath and opened his mouth. __________________________________________________________

The next few days, Neteyam tried to find a moment to talk to you, but you managed to stay out of his way. Every time he was close or entered the room you happened to be in, you quickly left. The talk with Lo'ak was helpful, and now he wishes to apologize. His younger brother's words lingered in his mind. "Go apologize. You seriously have to talk to her. You messed up big times."

With time passing, the motivation and optimistic view that you would forgive him and the hope that it wasn't that bad faded. He had just returned from training with his dad and was now strolling on the beach, wishing for some quiet time to think and relax. His gaze was directed towards the ocean. He missed his home, the forest, the Omaticaya clan but he had to admit that it wasn't that bad here. His feet carried him to the cave where you, the sully, and Metkayina kids used to hang out a while ago when everything and everyone were still on somewhat good terms.

Lost in thoughts he didn't notice that someone was already hanging out there. Only when he was standing right in front of that person, you. It took him a minute to realize you were actually sitting there, and he wasn't imagining that cause if that was the case, you would look more happy. Not having such puffy, red eyes. Your face was swollen from dehydration, which was a result of your constant and unstoppable crying sessions. You still felt miserable ever since the argument.

On the other hand, you had noticed Neteyam right away when he entered the cave. Yet you didn't show any signs of trying to leave as quickly as before, yet you turned away from facing Neteyam. Without saying a word he sat down next to you. No one said anything for a while until a breathy "I'm so sorry" left his lips. Waiting for him to continue, you sat silently, taking a deep breath. "I was frustrated and let it out on you. I'm sorry. What I said was wrong. It's just that.. that I'm.." He struggled with finding the right words. He closed his eyes briefly, fiddling with his fingers before looking at you. "I fell in love with you and got jealous about being so good friends with Lo'ak and spending so much time with him."

Surprised, your lips parted a bit, and you quickly shot a quick gaze at him. Was he serious? Your heartbeat made a jump. You stared at him. He stared back at you. "Really?" questioning, you raised your eyebrows. He gulped and nodded slightly. Feeling ashamed of opening up and telling you how he truly felt, he quickly guided his eyes to the horizon where it was about to dawn. "I thought when I help you train, we could spend time together and show you how I feel about you. But you seemed to care less and less about it."

"Well… I was excited at first, but then you got meaner and stressed about taking the time for that when I clearly don't have the skill to perform", you answered honestly. "Being around you makes me nervous and it seems like I'm not good and…" Your voice was shaky. "You know, we used to be friends too, but then you had so much training and were focused on that. So I agreed to the training with you, to spend more time with you."

Trying to make eye contact, you leaned forward to gather his attention. He finally looked back at you. "I know… I'm sorry." apologizing again, he picked his skin on his finger. Seeing how nervous he was right now, you slowly put your hands on his to stop him from doing that. A soft smile appeared on your lips, which Neteyam returned. "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship." His voice sounded husky. The stare between your eyes got deeper and longer, and without you guys noticing, your faces got closer. "I'm sorry," he whispered slowly while intertwining your fingers with his. His tail softly tapping your leg. Your cheeks turn into a soft pink. "Stop apologizing. I got it", you said in a jokingly serious tone.

"How about we do something tomorrow.. something fun" he burst out. "As friends," he added and slightly squeezed your hand. The soft smile on your lips grew, and you nodded. "That sounds good," you replied back. "What do you have in mind?" Now it was his smile that grew a bit devilish. "You'll see," was all he replied, his tail wagging more in excitement. There wasn't much space between your faces by now; only your mask kept some space between your faces.

#𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 #james cameron avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x human reader #neteyam sully #atwow #oneshot #avatar #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #x reader

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chaoscriess · 2 years

Note

Predator/Prey kink & smut with Billy Loomis? Loved the one you did with Stu. Maybe with knife kink, possible blood or whatever else you think would fit?

I absolutely love this.

18+!!!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! blood play, knife play, predator/prey kink, billy fucking loomis, dubcon?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! blood and knife play are just 🤤 I loved making this, not tooooooooo smutty, I'm not the best at writing smut lol. unedited, lowercase intended, double periods intended

billy loomis x fem!reader

you and billy had been dating for a while, and you had never had a problem with your sex lives

but one day, it seemed to change

he got rougher. started biting you, sometimes drawing blood, and to be honest, you were into it. like, really into it.

you bought knives, asked if he wanted to use them

he was ecstatic, he felt euphoric

when you used them for the first time, it was like you were in heaven

the fear of him being able to cut you..

the fear that he could do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it

it was overwhelming in the best way possible

one night, billy told you he'd be over at midnight with his knives and a blindfold

but here you were on your bed. naked, needy, and soaking wet

and he was nowhere to be found

you looked over at the window, thinking you saw something out of the corner of your eye, but you didn't see anything out there. suddenly, you heard your phone ringing. you were confused, it was twelve-thirty and you weren't waiting for any calls. you picked it up, letting out a quiet 'hello?' the line was quiet before a man started speaking. "hello y/n." your brows furrowed as you sat up in your bed. "I'm sorry, who is this? I don't think I recognize your voice." you heard a chuckle on the other side and realized it sounded familiar. "oh, sweetheart.. you'll know who I am soon enough. god, you look so fucking hot right now". you gasped and looked around, wrapping a blanket around your body before getting up and making sure your windows were closed.

"aw, do you think I'm outside? pretty girl, I'm closer than you think." your breathing picks up and so does your heart rate. "oh my god... where the fuck are you, pervert?!" you yell, the phone now at your side. "right here." you hear him next to you and scream, running as fast as you can to get away from him. the blanket was restricting your legs from moving as much as they could, so you got rid of it, just wanting to survive.

but he caught you. he forced you onto the floor and pinned your hands above your head. "god, you're slow." you looked at him with wide eyes as he pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and tied it around your head, making sure you couldn't see anything. you could hear shuffling, assuming he took his mask off. he took his knife and traced your skin with it, the cold metal pressing into your skin slightly, but not hard enough to draw blood.

you hated how turned on you were, you were almost drooling at the thought of being fucked by ghostface and you felt so dirty. you were soaking wet and he knew that. you knew that. you lifted your hips, desperate for any friction or pleasure. he noticed and chuckled at your desperation, it was pitiful. "beg for it." it was like all the air in the universe disappeared as soon as he said it, but you still managed to let out a few words. "please... just fuck me"

eventually, you found out it was billy. about halfway through, your blindfold went up and you caught a glimpse of billy's face just as he came inside you, and he knew you saw him. mutters something like 'shit, now the little whore knows who I am, guess I gotta punish you'

so he carves 'billy's whore' into your stomach.

not deep enough to seriously hurt you, but deep enough to leave scarring.

when you're done, you're so fucked out by his dick that you fell asleep the moment he brought you to your bed. the morning after, you find yourself cuddled up to billy next to you, sleeping like a rock.

#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis fic #billy loomis #smut #billy loomis x reader smut #billy loomis smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #chaos' army #chaos calling!

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hedwig221b · 6 months

Note

Trick or treat!!

Hiiiii! Based on what you usually reblog I think you'd like this piece of a wip

“I’m just feeling on edge today,” Stiles confessed.

That was one way to put it.

“Let’s figure it out then,” Derek insisted, and Stiles couldn’t help but look up at him. “You have to embrace it. You know it’s the only way for you.”

Fuck, Stiles loved this man so fucking much. His throat was closing up at the sheer determination in Derek’s voice. He was probably the only one who didn’t want “the old Stiles” back. Derek didn’t want to change him. From day one he encouraged Stiles to be at peace with what he was, to explore the new abilities in order to understand and control himself better.

Maybe, that was because he was a born werewolf, who was always told by the humans that there was an “other”, wolfy part of him that he had to tame in order to be “normal”.

But Derek was already normal. He just wasn’t human (fully or half) and that irked people because he looked like one.

Derek was the only one who could understand. Well, he and hunters, but the latter weren’t so nice about it.

“Do you need to vent?” Derek asked. “Scream? Punch someone?”

“I want blood.”

Derek’s mouth closed with a click.

Stiles forced himself to keep looking at Derek because his mate needed to know. If Stiles could demand Derek to be truthful with him, he had to do the same. No matter how horrifying the truth was.

Derek cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times in rapid succession.

“In what way?” His voice betrayed nothing.

Stiles’ heart was beating in his throat, despite him sitting still on the couch. He looked to the side, biting the skin off his upper lip. He was clutching at Derek’s hands in a pitiful attempt to make him stay.

“I don’t want to have, like, a Bloody Mary or anything, but… I have this urge, and it’s been killing me, like a constant headache. I want to—” Stiles stopped to swallow the spit that immediately gathered in his mouth. “Want to tear into something. With my teeth, my hands. To feel their last breath and keep breathing myself.”

Now he was afraid to look at Derek. It was too much. Derek was going to look at him in disgust and fear, lean away and run far to where Stiles would never find him.

“Please,” he begged in a choked voice. “Please, don’t— Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to be afraid of m— Oh, my god, why the fuck are you smiling?"

And it was a full smile, with his usual set of bunny teeth and fangs, breathtaking, wide and feral.

And then Derek said the thing Stiles never thought to hear from him in the light of recent events.

“I’m so glad to have you as my mate.”

“Fucking huh?”

Derek chuckled, rolled his eyes, then smacked a hard passionate kiss on Stiles’ lips and jumped up with athletic ease.

“I’m taking you on a hunt, come on.” The man grabbed his hands and lifted him off the couch, tugging his stunned mate after himself.

“Hunt?”

“Yeah,” another giddy smile, so beautiful Stiles stumbled a bit into his shoulder. “I wanted to take you with me for so long, but since you don’t like running in the forest…”

“When I run in the forest it’s usually because I’m running away from someone, that’s why I despise it,” Stiles said to him absently, still reeling from Derek’s reaction. “You’re… you’re not disturbed? Not even for a little bit? Not feeling any urge to call 911?”

Derek snorted and shook his head.

They finally stopped at the edge of the forest; Derek turned around, gave Stiles the softest excited glance, then cupped his face quickly and kissed him again. Seemed like he just couldn’t keep it inside himself.

“You’re a predator now, Stiles,” the wolf breathed out with an almost proud smile, “like me.”

Stiles soaked up the sunny expression on his mate’s face, and the realization hit him hard and with no warnings. When was the last time Derek was able to experience the thrill of the hunt with someone? He was a fucking wolf, for fuck’s sake. Scott absolutely refused to do it, Allison and Lydia weren’t even worth asking and Isaac was still too weirded out by his own urges.

The last time Derek hunted with someone, just for the fun of it, was probably back when his family was alive.

But now… Now he could share this with Stiles.

“Like you,” said Stiles and smiled back.

#YEEEEHAAAW #Stiles is going to be wild in this #stiles stilinski #sterek #sterek fic #my fics #stiles x derek #derek hale #eternal sterek #hedwig221b replies #ask game

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patchoulimademoiselle · 4 months

Text

Bat Shit Crazy. (Part 2)

Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, sub/dom dynamic, large age gap, smut, praise kink. Reader has bpd, and a personality switch takes place. Bucky cusses you out in Russian. All the good stuff.

Summary: Your first mission together in a while doesn't exactly go as you expected it to.

Notes: This fic is dark, and it only gets darker. This is more Winter Soldier Bucky in terms of behavioral traits and dynamics with other characters. This is not a soft lovey dovey style fic, and if that bothers you DO NOT READ.

Masterlist

You savor Bucky being home, home, as if you can call it that without a guilty conscience. Your trigger finger is itching by the time you’re assigned a new mission, but you’re disappointed to find that its only recon, and it’s in harsh winter terrain.

Your black tactical gear has been switched for white, a thick winter coat and light colored combat boots. The air is crisp, stinging the tip of your nose every time you inhale. You hate recon, and you hate whatever country this is, Russia maybe? You have a bad habit of not paying attention during mission briefings. You are not the brains in this equation. More like a secret weapon hidden in a small frame, so as you find a million ways to distract yourself, Bucky soaks up the details like a sponge.

Your short attention span does bother him, one day it can cost you your life if you aren’t careful. But the dynamic between you tends to work with it, he gives you a shorter version on the way to the drop sight, and you have signals assigned between each other as code. You can never ignore a signal. That’s the deal between you. It’s all fun and games until you take it too far, he has warned you so many times that it will cost you everything.

I will not let you kill me and yourself by being reckless, the warning replays in your head and it sends a shiver down your spine, you reach to grab his arm, struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Bucky,” You smile, a little breathless. “I’m dying here.”

“You’re fine.” He says, “Tighten up.”

This is who he is, traces of his training are hidden in everything he does, his life before this making him cold and rough around the edges. But here, stalking through the snow, like a predator searching for prey, you can sense how dangerous he really is. There are traces of the winter soldier still in him, and it concerns him to know that it excites you. Those rough edges will do more than cut you one day, but for now, he is no more dangerous to you than a guard dog to its owner, loyal, trusting. You know he will die before he lets you get hurt.

You trust him, so you tighten up, fighting through the burn in your thighs as you continue uphill for what feels like hours. The hike only takes about two before he’s signaling you to stop, his footsteps stopping abruptly.

You hear nothing, but as you look up at his face, you know he senses something. He starts to crouch, you follow his lead until you’re both belly down in the snow. He sets up the rifle that was hanging on his shoulder, using it to survey the area.

“What is it?” You’re close enough to talk into his ear, voice barely audible in the air around you.

“This is a high traffic area,” His voice is so low, the thickness of it making it hard to hear. You strain, faces touching, “Their camp must be close.” They, you weren’t sure who, that’s the whole point of this. “Mark these coordinates. We have to move soon.”

You reach into his coat pocket, slowly, pulling out the sat nav Tony had designed for the team, marking your coordinates, entering a note of high traffic, before returning it to his pocket.

Bucky must feel sure of himself, because he turns his head to you now, lips almost touching as he says, “Remember your training, what do you see?”

You want to kiss him, a few stray strands of hair fall over his forehead, the fur lining of his coat hood makes him look so much younger, normal, as if you weren’t on a recon mission in the snow. A young couple going on a camping trip, a winter hike in the woods to get away from your busy lives.

But then you look into his eyes, dark, cold, a trained soldier focused on the task at hand, and you know he would kill you himself if you tried to distract him.

So you turn your head, looking at the trees in front of you. He watches you as you say, “A disadvantage.” And you swear you see the corner of his lips twitch up in a smile.

“Good girl.” Then he’s sitting up, slowly. “We’ll have to go around, find higher ground.” He extends a hand to you, you take it, and he pulls you up out of the snow. “Keep your eyes moving.” You're shocked at his change in attitude, an unfamiliar gentleness in his tone.

You don’t remember the last time he seemed so carefree on a mission like this. It must be a lighter feeling compared to what he just went through with Steve, but he has never let his guard down so much with you. He is always on edge, expecting you to fuck up somehow.

But he seems to trust you here, or maybe he’s testing you. Either way, you’re grateful for it. You don’t feel like you’re walking on eggshells, he trusts you, and that means more than he can know.

You think he senses it, his eyes lighter when you stand.

He wants you, you recognize this stance, that stare, there are memories floating behind his eyes, his seemingly innocent touch isn’t so innocent, his hand lingering, hesitating to let you go.

But you’re too exposed here, the reality of your situation setting in and ruining the moment as flurries of snow fall between you. A smile breaks across your face, pulling your hand from his to catch a snowflake.

“We need to move.” He’s back, your window of opportunity has closed, shoving your shoulder to force you backwards, you turn, walking away from the spot you had just laid in the snow, away from the moment you just shared.

He lets you lead, you aren’t sure why, his eyes watching your every move. But it doesn’t feel invasive, doesn’t feel threatening at all. It feels protective, guiding. You embrace this dynamic.

It is hard for him to let you be yourself sometimes. Aloof, just a young girl still trying to navigate the world compared to his hardened persona. A part of him knows he is ruining you, exposing you to a darkness you would have never known if you hadn’t become so close. Your life was troubled before him, but he knows he is only fueling the fire, teaching you to dance along with the flames, teaching you to embrace the pain of the burn.

But you don’t seem to notice it yet, and he couldn’t ever find it in himself to let you be. So you stay this way, wild, careless, continuously dancing on the edge. Because he is there to catch you, even if he is the reason you fall.

But most of the time, you take yourself there, filled with an anger he hasn’t helped you control yet, a recklessness that comes from a hard life, not caring what happens, needing a thrill to make it all worth it.

Like right now, a lapse in judgment, a fallen log up ahead, you jump on it, trying to balance, but it collapses under your weight, the sound of wood cracking echoes into the air around you, no doubt traveling for miles.

You freeze, knowing you fucked up, knowing that if you get out of this alive, you will be tortured for this mistake. But you don’t really have time to think about the consequences, Bucky is grabbing you by the hood of your coat, pulling you into a run.

It’s choaking you, the zipper digging into your skin, but you don’t dare complain, letting him pull you as you run, stopping when you’ve reached a good distance. He pushes you against a tree, thick enough to cover you, then presses himself in front of you, shielding you both.

His jaw is clenched, breathing erratic as he tries to calm himself, there’s an anger in his eyes that you know will come with a harsh punishment later. You wait there, minutes go by, no one comes. And as soon as he knows it’s clear, his anger is directed at you.

“How stupid can you be?” His voice is strained, trying to control his volume.

“Oh please, we’re fine!”

He clamps your mouth with his hand, “Заткнись.” Shut the fuck up. He hardly ever speaks in Russian to you, he taught you in case of emergency, but you know this is only a display of anger, “Вам повезло, что вы живы.” You are lucky to be alive.

And just like that, the good feeling is gone. The trust, the security, everything that made this feel easy, gone. You shove his hand away, trying your hardest to bite down your own anger. How silly of you to think that this would be different, that you could lighten up and enjoy his good mood.

You say nothing else, watching as he pulls out the sat nav, marking your location and making a note.

Your cheeks are hot, with mostly embarrassment, watching him struggle to control his anger.

You almost compromised the entire mission, taking it too far, searching for the wrong kind of thrills. The only excitement you are allowed here, with a man like him, is from squeezing a trigger.

His eyes burn into you as you hold your hand out, not asking, demanding to take his riffle. If there is anything he can trust in you, it is your anger, allowing your darkness to consume you and help you push through. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about anything else happening, allowing you to take it.

It feels cold, heavy, a physical translation of the burden that sits on your shoulders.

You are not just a girl anymore. You are a trained soldier, you are a weapon.

This is where you will find your purpose. This is where you will find all the thrill you will ever know. This is what he wants you to be.

Bucky leads you deeper into the woods, the trees becoming taller, thicker, the change in terrain tells you that you are closer to their base, the uphill hike turning into flat ground. Your disadvantage is lost, eyes scanning the trees for movement, for traces of life.

Before long, you hear it, voices, only a few meters ahead of you. A watch post no doubt. Bucky raises a closed fist, signaling you to stop. You freeze. Rifle raised to scope the area. You can not see them, but the fact that they are close enough to hear makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

He holds two fingers up, waving them in a circular motion, signaling you to go around. It’s a simple maneuver, one that you’ve done many times. It feels like muscle memory, you nod to him, side stepping through the snow to circle around the area. You’re light on your feet, securing the rifle to your back, footsteps silent as you follow the sound of their voices.

Three men, armed with assault rifles, military grade. They are camouflaged, it takes you a moment to spot them. And in the distance, beside a tree, you see Bucky, eyes locking. He marks your coordinates, then signals you to keep moving.

A few feet out, when their voices start to fade, you circle back, taking a moment to find cover behind a tree, making sure it is clear before you speak. “There will be more of them.”

“I know,” You can barely see his eyes from under your hood, but his voice tells you he is tense, “We need to find a vantage point to stake out.”

You take your rifle in hand, following him through the trees. The snow feels more compact here, walked on over and over, another heavy foot traffic area. You are close, too close. Your pace is slow, cautious as you search for any vantage point. A slight hill, no doubt used as a watch post, You watch as Bucky reaches down to pull a knife from his ankle, arming himself in case of an encounter.

But to your luck, no one is there to greet you when you reach the top of the hill.

You’re quick to set up a stake out post, unloading the pack you brought with you, setting up a scope on your riffle. Bucky pulls out and energy bar, opening the wrapper and handing it to you. You lay flat on your belly, taking an occasional bite, until you find a foot soldier, about a hundred yards out.

You follow him, you can feel Bucky watching as you shift to the right, he leads you right to their base, a small camp with two tents and a fire. There are two ATV’s parked to the far left of their camp, a group of foot soldiers guarding each tent.

“I’ve got them.” You scoot back, giving him room to take his spot so that he can see for himself.

You watch as he lays flat as a board, settling in to where you’ve positioned the rifle. You dig into your pack, pulling out the canteen you brought, taking a sip of water.

“Good girl.” The praise does nothing to excite you, not after earlier, you simply watch him in silence. “Let me take first watch, use the sat nav to make a map.”

You reach into his pocket, retrieving the device. Inside your pack, pen and paper, an old school style of marking your territory. But you realize you may need it on case you two are ever separated, in case you need a backup plan. You do your very best, marking your stake out post first, then a hundred yard out as you have just discovered, their base. You mark the exact coordinates of where you are, and of where you found the first watch post.

By the time you are done, your energy bar is done, the water a quarter gone. You tap his side, “What do you see?”

“There must be another watch post twenty-five yards out in the opposite direction,” He points with two fingers. “They switch out in groups of three, but it seems to be at alternating times from the other post we first saw.”

“You should go find out, I’ll stay here and keep watch.” He looks at you then, his face is expressionless, you can’t read him, but you know he’s thinking something. “I’ll be fine, we have a job to do.”

He sits up, letting you take back your post. He fills up on an energy bar and takes a few sips of water while he goes over the map you made for him. You burned a lot of energy hiking up hill, the first thing he ever taught you was to conserve your energy, always refuel as soon as you are safe.

His hand on your shoulder, crouching to look at you. “Don’t move from this spot.” That darkness in his eyes return, a promise to let the world burn if something happens to you. He rests his forehead against yours, a goodbye, a promise to return, and that if he doesn’t he died trying.

Nothing else matters in a moment like this. Every time you separate, it could easily be the last time you see each other.

And then he’s gone, footsteps silent as he leaves your post. You don’t dare leave, watching their camp with complete focus. You want to know what they are protecting, who they are protecting. Why so many guns for just two little tents in the fucking woods? You focus on the tent flaps, the soldiers that come in and out. You see nothing useful, deciding to focus on the soldiers themselves. Their commander has a com system, tech too advanced to be just an ex-military group like you originally thought. Their ATV’s are unregistered, fake plates that are no doubt a cover up, you memorize the plate numbers, logging them into the sat nav, along with identifications for their weaponry.

Every piece of information helps, the grade of uniform, the tents, anything that can be traced to something. You double check the area, no one in sight, and reach for the camera in your pack. You take as many photos as you can, their camp, the vehicles, their uniforms and weapons.

You get lost in it a bit, trying to focus on as many details as possible, when a hand clamps around your mouth, lips at your ear. “Персик.” Peach, a greeting. And then a kiss, soft, light, too quick to be savored, placed at your temple. He settles beside you, pulling the map from his coat pocket, he takes the camera from you, trading.

He has marked two other lookout posts on the map, measured twenty-five yards from each other, just like he estimated. His tracking skills are better than anyone else you have seen, you’ve only been able to pick up on some of it.

“Any activity here?” He asks, looking through the pictures you’ve taken.

“No, whoever they are protecting in that tent is to heavily guarded, I can’t see anything.”

“If we wait long enough, we will see something.” He says, “They have to rotate eventually, a fresh group will come to replace these soldiers.”

You don’t want to stay here over night. The temperature will drop to below freezing, you have nothing but insulated blankets to keep you warm. You can’t make a fire, and one of you will have to stay up to keep watch all night.

But he says nothing about packing up as the sun starts to set, nothing about how you will survive the night. He only taps your shoulder, offering to switch. He pulls his knife from his ankle, keeping it in hand as he settles behind the rifle.

“Bucky?”

“Stay next to me under the blanket, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to switch.” Is all he says.

So you do as you’re told. You scoot as close to him as you’re able, laying on your back to avoid any aches. The blanket does nothing at first, draped across both of you to shield you from the harsh air. But as time goes by, your breath filling the air trapped around you, the heat radiating from your body and his as you shiver, the cold snow beneath you doesn’t feel as cold anymore. With Bucky’s presence beside you, solid, safe, familiar, it doesn’t feel so bad as you close your eyes and let yourself relax.

He never wakes you to switch, he lets you sleep through the night, knife clenched in his hand, head continuously on a swivel. Looking down to you, checking for your breathing, back to the camp for any activity, in the directions of all marked lookout posts. He half expects something to go wrong, this is all playing out so well.

The snow stopped hour ago, the wind is soft enough to allow actual insulation under the blanket, you are sleeping peacefully, no nightmares, no movement.

But nothing happens. The crack of sunlight behind you is what wakes you up, you are resting too well, you fear something is wrong when you jump out of your sleep, a twitch more than anything else, too afraid of what is waiting for you.

But you feel Bucky still beside you, eyes on you when you poke your head out from under the blanket. He didn’t sleep at all, but nothing on his face tells you he is tired, or that his face feels frozen. It was an act of kindness, taking the full watch, and you will repay him for it later.

You sit up slowly, trying not to make too much noise as you gather the blanket, folding it up and packing it away. You crouch behind a tree, relieving yourself and burying your piss under the snow. With what little cover of darkness you have left, you quickly switch places with Bucky, watching the camp while he relieves himself, stretches his muscles after remaining still for so long.

You could never do it yourself, you know part of it is the super soldier serum in his veins, the training her has undergone in his past, to remain so disciplined, to withstand harsh conditions for so long with no effects on his body. You are thankful for it, even if it feels like nothing to him.

It is everything to you.

You let him eat, drink, have a moment of peace to figure out a plan. Until you finally see it, movement.

“Buck, the camera.”

You don’t have to say anything else, he’s quick to lay beside you, watching as another ATV arrives at the camp. You time stamp it in the sat nav, watching as the soldiers switch out, and finally, two men exit the tents. You don’t recognize them, you have no idea who you’ve just seen, but you know right away that Bucky does.

His body goes ridged, only for a second, before he returns to taking pictures.

Someone from his past? You can only wonder, you know he will never tell you, or anyone.

You wait until the shift change is finished, a fresh group of soldiers, and a new person to take position inside of the left tent. You hope this is enough, you hope these people can be identified and that this stake out wasn’t for nothing.

You know more now than you did walking in, which is the entire point. You try not to stress over it, Bucky’s voice pulling you out of your head as he tells you to pack up.

You’re done here.

He doesn’t have to explain to you what’s going on, you’ve had enough training on recon missions to know his tactics. You never pick up where you drop off. If you are ever compromised, the first thing they will do is track where you came from. Doubling back increases your chances of getting caught.

So you continue deeper into the woods, the complete opposite of the clearing you were dropped off at. The jets are quiet, cloaked, but not completely untraceable. If their tech is as advanced as it seems to be, they can find any incoming aircrafts if they know to look. If you have remained uncompromised, this will be easy.

But of course, you always have to expect the worst.

You walk for hours, so deep within the terrain that you start to worry you are lost until Bucky tells you to cut north to a clearing. Finally, he turns on the locator in the sat nav, and you do your best to hide out until the extraction team arrives.

You feel lighter, you can breathe again. The mission is finished, you aren’t out of the woods yet, literally and figuratively, but the hardest part is over.

And as you sit there, back against a tree, a bit of snow in your boots, cheeks rosy from the cold, you try to find the bright side of this. The peace and quiet, the fresh air, the time outside of HQ with the only person in the world you care about.

He watches you, a glint of something soft in his eyes, adoration, love maybe, and against his better judgement, he reaches out to grab your hand, pulling you to come closer, onto his lap.

“You stress me the fuck out.” He sighs, a gloved hand securing itself at your hip. “But you proved yourself.”

You can’t tell if he’s scolding you, or if this is a compliment. But you embrace it, whatever this is, because he would never allow it any other time. You are technically not out of danger yet, there is still a chance you can be discovered here. But it seems like he doesn’t care, his need to touch you is stronger than his instincts. Everything inside of you is telling you to take advantage of this moment of weakness, this crack in his armor.

You exploit it, leaning in to kiss him, lips cold and slightly chapped from your night spent outdoors. But you don’t care, neither does he, a deep moan vibrating through his chest as he pulls you even closer against him.

You scared him, he thought for a moment he might lose you, that you would be caught and killed in the middle of nowhere.

But you pulled through for him, understood his worry and corrected yourself. He was rewarding you, giving you the attention and the thrill you had been seeking from him before. The danger, the adrenalin.

He’s guiding you to grind against him, tongue in your mouth when you moan with pleasure, letting him encourage you, letting him set a pace for you.

It doesn’t take long, your moans becoming more desperate, he’s quick to discard of his gloves, cold hands finding their way inside your coat, under your shirt, gripping harshly at your breasts.

The contrast of warm and cold makes you gasp, pulling back to look at him, cheeks flushing when you see the look in his eyes. Primal desire, the only good thing to exist out of his darkness is his want for you, and you start to see the reality of this bond you share. This curse to be consumed by darkness, the inability to prevent it.

He’s working at your pants, admiring you, the life that comes to your face in the heat of the moment, the wildness in your eyes that is wanting and waiting for his next move.

You sit back, letting him slide your pants down to your ankles, exposing your bare ass to the cold elements. He frees himself from his own pants, pulling you to sit on him once again, moaning at how wet you are, grinding yourself against his cock, hard and twitching. He kisses you again, grabbing your hips and guiding you to grind yourself against his length, the feeling has your eyes rolling shut, cold and hot, soft and hard. Until finally, he guides himself inside of you, stretching ever so slightly, you moan, arms wrapping around his neck for support as he lowers you onto him.

He doesn’t stop until you bottom out, making you take all of him, giving you only a moment to adjust before he lifts you, slowly, his cock sliding out of you at a pace that makes you ache.

You moan, feeling him twitch inside of you. His jaw is clenched, a display of his restraint. It makes you smile, devilment twinkling in your eyes as you squeeze, clenching around him. A choked gasp escapes his throat, eyes shifting.

He pushes you back, air forced out of your lungs in a gasp as you fall against he cold ground, the snow creeping inside your coat. He follows you, slotting himself between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance before he slides in, quick, forceful, a second gasp escaping you except there is no air left. Breathless.

He grabs your hands forcing them above your head, lips finding yours as he begins to thrust in and out of you, holding nothing back as he fucks you in the snow.

It feels so wrong, the exposure, the risk of being found from how loud you’re being, desperately wrapping yourself around him, trying to force yourself even closer.

He forces his tongue into your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as he bottoms out inside you, grinding his hips against yours. You can’t control the moan that escapes you, matched with a grunt that he can’t hold back. Your fingers squeeze his, fighting the overpowering feeling of pleasure, the way he is dominating you, the way he knows exactly how to please you.

He pulls back for air, letting you catch your breath, resuming a slow pace as he begins to pump in and out of you. “Fuck, look at what you do to me.” He talks you through it, eyes locked with yours. “Do you feel me inside of you?”

You’re breathless, unable to respond until he squeezes your hands, prompting you to say something, anything. “Fuck, yes.” You love how wrecked you sound, voice thick with lust for him, and you love how he melts at the sound of it. “I love when you fuck me like this.”

“I know you do, baby.” He lowers himself to embrace you, releasing one of your hands. He cradles your head, pulling you flush against him, letting you finally embrace him. “You always take it so well.”

You feel weightless, clinging to him as he fucks you nice and slow, his lips at your ear. “You like scaring me like that?” He asks, accompanied by a harsh thrust, “You like pissing me off so I’ll fuck you like this, don’t you?”

And there it is, the agony he promised to pay you back with, his hips snapping to meet yours as he picks up his pace, knocking the air out of you with every thrust. You’re speechless, mouth agape as you lose awareness, all you can feel is him and the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

“Answer me.” All you can do is moan, a strangled cry as you struggle with the pleasure, eyes starting to roll back. But that doesn’t satisfy him, his teeth sinking into your earlobe, pulling a cry of pleasurable pain from the back of your throat. “You love pissing me off, don’t you?”

“Yes!” You don’t care how desperate you sound, voice whiny and laced with pleasure, “Yes, daddy. I love it.”

He hums, teasing you, teeth replaced with soft kisses, but he maintains his pace, fucking into you until you feel your legs begin to shake. You can feel him smile against your skin, “There you go baby, you gonna come for me?”

You can feel an orgasm building, your body hot and your pussy pulsing with pleasure. All you can do is curl into him, mouth finding his skin, biting down as an orgasm overtakes you, he moans at the feeling, you clench around him as you come, teeth sinking into his neck. He doesn’t stop though, fucking you through it, chasing an orgasm of his own.

And as you come back to reality, your pleasure subsiding, you help him through his, just like he had done for you. “Come for me,” You whisper against his skin, clenching around him over and over, moaning at the pleasure it brings you. “Come inside me, baby.” Your voice is soft, gentle, placing soft kisses against his skin. “You’ve been so brave, so strong. Now relax for me.”

His voice is broken as he moans, “Oh god,” His grip around you tightens, he’s almost there, you can feel how desperate he is. “Keep talking.”

You’ve experienced this with him a few times, praise is so uncommon for him that his body doesn’t know how else to react except finding pleasure in it. You love making him so weak, so desperate, “You protect me so well, make me feel so safe.” A kiss to his throat, you hear him gasp softly, “But you fuck me even better.” You moan, this feels so wrong, so dirty, the way his cock is pumping inside of you, the way he is about to fall apart on top of you. “Come inside me, James.”

That does it, a harsh groan tearing from his throat as he stills on top of you, you can feel his warm cum spilling inside of you, but he continues to thrust, determined to release everything he has.

And then he’s kissing you, your eyes futtering closed as he finishes inside of you. Riding out his high, he continues to fuck you, his hands rough as they find your waste, pinning you against the ground. And for a second time, he comes inside of you, using you for his pleasure, fucking his frustration into you.

It isn’t until he’s fully spent that he finally stops, pulling out, his eyes locked on yours as he bends down to lick you clean. It turns you on again, his mouth is warm, your legs twitching to wrap around his head and trap you there. But he just kisses you instead, once, twice, lips lingering on your pussy just to torture you before he’s pulling away, a cocky smile on his face as he starts to pull your clothes back up your legs.

You’re suddenly cold now, watching as he fixes his clothes, he looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to embrace him and lay back down in the snow.

But the jet is here, the sound of the engine getting closer and closer, you give him a teasing smile as you gather your things. The way he looks at you tells you this is far from over, he isn’t done with you, a silent promise as he takes your hand, guiding you over to the jet as it lands.

The extraction team boards you quickly, the medic examines you for frostbite and dehydration. For reasons unknown to them, you do seem dehydrated, slightly delirious. They radio HQ requesting the med bay be ready for your arrival. But for now, they give you water and a blanket, allowing you to sit and strap in for the ride home.

Bucky lays his head on your shoulder, and it isn’t long until he’s fast asleep.

Your heart aches, a longing to wrap him up and hide him away from the world overcomes you, you stretch your legs out and let him lay his head in your lap, the blanket hiding him from view.

You stroke his hair, letting him finally rest.

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

Masterlist

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#bucky barnes x reader #avengers fanfiction #reader insert #bucky x reader #bucky smut #praise k!nk #bpd relationships #winter solider x reader #bucky barnes series

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safe-by-dawn · 10 months

Text

Prey

Hoodie x reader (Smut)

Requests are currently open

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings: CNC themes, name-calling, knife play, predator/prey dynamic, public-ish.

A/N: Not really good at warnings, so if I left anything out that you think needs to be listed let me know and I'll add it. Not edited because I wanted to get something out before work. Will definitely go back and fix errors a little later!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a chill in the air, burning your lungs with every heavy stride that carries you further and further into the deep forest. The buzzing of insects and occasional branches snapped by the wildlife observing your form has gone silent in favor of your heavy heart pounding in your ears.

You know he’s just around the corner, waiting, watching you struggle as the sweat slips across your forehead and for only a moment, part of you wants to stop and allow his hands to take hold of you. You want this game of cat and mouse to end. Your feet are heavy and your motions become exhausted after minutes of sprinting through the forest.

The longer you run, the worse it will be for you.

Somewhere, within the burn that spread across your skin, a heavy feeling settles in your core. Whether it was the fear of the chase or the adrenaline or arousal that this man laces into your bones when he decides to play games with you like this.

You knew him; knew he had a sick interest in watching you run away from him and pressing you into the earth after he catches you, watching you writhe and fight with him. It’s not uncommon for him to pull the car over on long drives when there’s long stretches of nothing but trees, grabbing your face in his hands before he all but pushes you out of the passenger seat.

“You’ll be a good brat for me, won’t you?” The grip he has on your cheeks is only heightened by the leather of his gloves. You can only nod at him, all words leaving your throat as a mix between excitement and longing and fear bubbles and presses a knot into your throat. “Now get the fuck out.”

You can barely see the smirk on his face as he pulls the balaclava over his head and then raises his hood. The car shuts off leaving you in darkness, and you know it’s your turn to hold up your part of the sick game he was oh so in love with and take off into the forest.

He was sick, demented, disgusting, and any other vile word you can think of, but you get off on the run as much as he does for the chase, so what does that make you? Just as twisted as he is.

Your footsteps are loud enough that you know he can hear you. He can hear you panting, dragging in as much air as your scorched lungs can carry. Even though this was a somewhat common occurrence, you’re never as prepared as you think you might be. The weaving through trees can only last so long until you feel hands press into your back, lurching you forward and onto your hands and knees and into the cold, wet ground. You don’t have enough time to think about the way the mud splatters across you as you before he flips you onto your back.

It’s only then that you notice the steady red blinking of his recorder in his hand, capturing the fear and arousal pressed into your features. He stands above you, feet on either side of your hips as the recorder drinks in every bit of you: The heave of your chest, the limpness of your now throbbing muscles that pushed so hard to get away from him. All of it to be kept and played back to you later before he decides to take you again with your own whimpers and screams in the background of the dark room.

It’s sick. It’s sick and you adore it.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous like this.” He squats down, close enough to wrap his hand around your face once again and you push it away. He’s already excited, you can tell even in the dark that his pants are tight around him. It only earns you a smack across your cheek, the leather burning you in such a delicious way, pulling a whimper out of you.

His hand runs down you, dragging down your still clothed body to dip into your jeans, tugging on the fabric but never pushing further into the desire that throbs between your legs. You attempt to push yourself across the ground out from under him but he only pulls you back closer by the waist of your pants, tugging them down slightly in the process.

“Don’t run from me, whore.” His voice is distorted from under his mask, filtering though the fabric in such a deep way that you can help the sound that comes out of you.

“Please,” You plead, and he only brings the recorder closer to your face to capture the mud and sweat lining your features.

“Please what?”

“Please, let me go.” You continue your attempt to scoot away from him. It’s the question you always ask. It lights the fire in him when he feels like you might fight him off. He loves having the upper hand, loves watching you squirm away.

“Sit there and be a good girl.” He steps off of you, to your surprise, moving over to one of the closer trees to set his camera up to watch the entire thing.

You take your chance to move, tired body trying to pull yourself up off the ground and away from him. You only make it back onto your hands and knees before his hands are back on you, pushing your face into the ground as his clothed hips meet your ass and you can feel him press into your heat through his jeans. “I told you not to fucking move.”

His hand grips into your hair pulling your top half back up off the ground and further into him. You hear the flick of his blade, a small thing but sharp enough to tear through you if he wanted it to.

He drags the smooth side down your chest resting just at your navel before he pushes it up and into your shirt shedding the thin material and exposing you even further to the cold night air. “You didn’t like that shirt, did you?” He speaks into your ear before pushing your face back into the dirt and you can barely manage to shake your head from the vice grip he has on your hair.

“No.”

“What about these jeans?” The knife slides across the denim covering your now dripping cunt. The light pressure only exciting you more. “You look delicious, but they gotta go.” As he speaks, he pulls the fabric from your skin, barely slicing the denim enough to get his hands in to tear it open.

You gasp as the air hits. The tear in the jeans leave you exposed, pussy only covered by the thin panties you decided to wear and they don’t last long as he cuts them in half to leave you out in the open.

“Won’t you give the camera a show, slut.” He growls out before the knife is thrown to the side in favor of grabbing your hips and angling you to where he knows the camera is sitting only feet away from you. You know that it can see everything through the rips in your jeans, but he goes the extra mile by letting the leather of his gloves press against your lips and spread you out for it. Your heat squelches obscenely the slick collected there almost dripping onto the forest floor but Hoodie catches it with his finger to drag it back up before pushing a gloved finger into you.

His hands are already large, but the thickness the gloves add is delicious. A whine escapes your lips as he drags back out enough to add a second digit into you, stretching you around his fingers before he curls them down into the spot he knows you love.

“I could just fuck you right now.” He growls out, lifting you and letting his fingers slip out in favor of pressing them into your mouth. “See how wet your are, slut.”

You nod, letting your tongue press into his glove, collecting the slick there and your own taste lingers as he pulls them out and lets you fall back onto the ground.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you.” You can hear him undoing his belt as he talks, and it only makes you drip more, knowing that he’ll fill you up soon.

“Yes, please.” You turn enough to watch him press his fingers against your heat and collect your wetness and pump his cock with it, mixing with his own pre-cum.

“You’re a whore,” Hoodie presses the length against you, letting it slip under you and against your folds, barely brushing against your clit, “You’re my whore.”

He barely presses the tip into you now, your pussy squeezing against nothing in anticipation, trying to pull in every inch of him, “Say it.” His voice comes out much harsher when he speaks, but you say nothing.

“I told you to fucking say it.” His hand reaches under you to push into your throat, grip tightening as he pulls his cock away from your entrance. “You want it so bad, fucking beg for it.”

“I’m your whore, please,” You beg, pushing your ass back into him in hopes he’ll finally push into you, “Hoodie, please fuck me.”

Before the words can even fully leave your lips, he pushes into you harshly, bottoming out in one thrust and almost pushing out all of the air in your lungs as a moan leaves you harshly at the stretch. “Oh, fuck.” You whimper out as he snaps his hips back and into you, already abusing your poor cervix with every thrust he pounds into you.

Your entire body is his to play with. Curves and meat there for him to smack and pinch and pull on. Every bit of it there to abuse and bite.

You love it. You love the way his hands pull on you as he plows you into the ground, no doubt leaving bruises that you’ll stare at in the mirror until they finally fade and he replaces them with fresh new ones.

His hips push you harshly into the ground as your hands search for purchase in the earth, gripping anything you can get a hold of. He pulls you up by your throat as he continues to slam into you, pulling out obscene sounds, moans and whimpers flood the once empty forest. You can feel his teeth press deep into your shoulder even through the balaclava he wears, and you scream at the pain but he loves it. He loves every sound coming out of you. It only spurs him on.

His hand runs down you again, pressing against your breast, pulling at your nipples before he continues on to rub at your clit. The hand on your throat tightens, leaving your head an even fuzzier mess than his cock is already doing. It’s too much, the coil inside of you tightens and he knows it. He can’t wait to watch you come undone of video later.

Your thighs clench as it finally snaps, cunt pulsing around his length as the high washes over you. As your body sets itself on fire against him. “Such a good girl for me, such a beautiful whore, just for me.” He talks you through your high, watching you come down as he continues pounding his cock in and out of you, finally chasing his own high as he lets you fall back onto the hard ground as he watches you take all of him. He presses into the soft spot he knows you love, watching as you mewl, chattering nothings into the air.

“’s good, so good.” Rambles and moans are the only thing you can get out your mouth before he pushes in to the hilt, emptying into you with a deep groan, before he pulls out and pushes back in, fucking his mess fully into you.

He pulls off of you, hand coming to pull his balaclava up before he grabs onto your face once again, jerking you towards his face to press a bruising kiss to your lips before he’s pulling his hoodie off and tossing it towards you.

You struggle in a half lidded daze to put it on, leaving your destroyed shirt in the forest, as he reaches a hand out to you to help pull you up and you lean heavy into him as he walks you in what you hope is the direction you had come from. Your muscles ache and you’ll definitely feel in the next morning when he shows you what a mess you were the night before as he plugs his camera into his computer to replay the whole scene for you.

But first, finding the car you had left abandoned on the side of the road.

#creepypasta x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta #hoodie #creepypasta smut #hoodie x reader smut #fanfic

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halfmylife · 11 months

Note

Could you do sihtric x reader with prompts 70 and 71

Pairing Sihtric x Reader

Prompts “I’d stop that before someone thinks you actually like me.”

“You’re a nightmare, you know that?”

Tags Fluff, slight mentions of violence.

A/N I loved writing this and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request!

The training had been gruelling. Sihtric had not held back in the daily spars that he took you through and barely gave your body a break. Every inch of you ached and you could barely keep your sword up. You half regretted even asking him.

Maybe one of the others would’ve been kinder. Still the others weren’t as kind on your eyes as Sihtric was even when he was shouting out orders and giving you constant criticism.

“Don’t let your guard down!” Sihtric called as you backed away, dropping your sword arm slightly, the blade grazing through the mud underfoot. His eyes were trained on you, watching your body like a predator. Something about his stare made your squirm but you hardly minded.

“It’s not like you’ve told me that before.” You grumbled to yourself sarcastically. You rolled your shoulders hoping it might ease the aching in your back. It didn’t.

“Maybe try listening to my advice then.” You should’ve known he would hear you.

“It’s hard to listen to when you’re constantly barking it out.” You shouted back, forcing yourself into a defensive position as he started to circle you. You really were like his prey. “Softer words might be nicer every now and then.”

“Do you think your enemy will use soft words to lighten the blow?” He cocked his head as he effortlessly twirled his blade. You would slap him around the head for being so cocky if you could get a hit in.

“That’s not the point.” You retorted, circling with him.

“Then what is your point?” He seemed far more relaxed than you. His shoulders sagged and his sword was like air in his grasp, he barely struggled with the weight. It was all so natural for him and he knew it.

“My point is, I can’t learn if you’re constantly snapping the same instructions at me.” As you both continued to move, you could feel the weight in your arm becoming too much, the sword was straining against you. You had half the mind to let it drop.

“I wouldn’t have to snap the same thing over again if you actually listened.” He shrugged, clearly this whole ordeal didn’t bother him like it did you.

“I am listening!” You snapped. The training had been tough and you knew you were better than before, at least now you could actually hold a sword and strike. Whether those strikes ever actually landed or not was a different matter. Regardless it grew harder by the day and Sihtric’s constant badgering didn’t help.

“You’re a nightmare, you know that?” He laughed to himself as stopped moving. You took that as a queue to strike. It just so happened that it was a terrible idea.

Just as you lunged forward with your blade, Sihtric managed to step aside, not even lifting his own. He moved with ease as he spun to get behind you, tapping the top of your thigh with the flat of his sword. He let out a low chuckle as you spun around, fury in your eyes.

You moved forward again, arching your sword down. Sihtric was able to side step each one. It was as though you were playing two very different games. The anger rose through you and you let it blindly guide you as you slashed forward.

When Sihtric actually decided to use his blade, you realised this fight would be over soon. He parried every strike easily and barely broke a sweat as he swiped you away every time without fail. You were growing tired and wanted nothing more than for this to end.

With one final push of strength you leapt forward towards him. Sihtric blocked the blow, your swords clashing as you stood close to one another, only the steel separating the pair of you. He gave a slight push against the metal, sending you back. Your footing gave way and you soon found yourself down on the mud, the air pushed out of your lungs.

You hit the floor the same time as your blade and you grunted from the impact. Sihtric’s usually calm demeanour dropped for a second as he discarded his own blade, a wave of concern washing over his features.

“You alright?” He asked kneeling down beside you. As you tried to push yourself up, his hand was on your back in an instant, keeping you steady.

“Never better.” You grunted. When you tried to stand, Sihtric’s hand didn’t leave your back guiding you up as his other free hand took your own. You were able to use his weight to get back onto your feet with ease, brushing yourself off when you were finally steady.

“You sure? You took that pretty hard.” Still his hands were on you, keeping you in place as his eyes wracked over your body. The concern was sweet enough but the way he held you was something else.

“I’d stop that before someone thinks you actually like me.” You smirked, watching him carefully as he adjusted his hold on your back. His hand trailed further down, turning you towards him.

“Maybe I do.” There was a glint in his eye as he held you close, closer than normal. The words dripped from his lips like honey and you almost thought your legs would give way. He held you there for a second, his eyes drifting to your lips and staying there for a little too long before he let go and turned his back on you. “Come on, sword up.”

#the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #reader fic #reader insert #x reader #tlk sihtric #sihtric the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #sihtric x reader

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keeneschoices · 11 months

Text

I'm gonna miss one of my classes because I stayed up late to watch the finale of Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies and couldn't sleep afterwards... WELP, ANYWAY.

what a fucking good episode.

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 10 AHEAD!

I've seen people saying they didn't like it that much because it was more relosution of past problems than anything else, but I did love it. The race didn't get to me nearly as much as I thought it would because after being presented with Cynthia and Lydia's situation, and the whole Olivia marrying that predator, I honestly had more things to worry about than any of that, but it was sort of fun.

Anyway, the whole song in the beginning of the girls telling Olivia not to marry that creep ("he's literally just a guy, hit him with your car" vibes) was just amazing. Everyone's vocals were great but holy fucking shit, ARI?? ARE YOU FOR REAL? THE TALENT.

We got a little more of backstory for Lydia and got some sort of hint regarding Cynthia's mom (my theory is she left them when Cynthia was young and sometimes she calls If she's in need of something). I'm loving to get to know these characters better, honestly.

The whole coming out scene between Nancy and Cynthia broke me. Like, literally had me crying and pausing the episode because I couldn't see anything behind the tears! I'm so goddamn glad Nancy talked to Cynthia and accepted them as they are (not that I ever thought she wouldn't), and seeing Cynthia cry, no, sob like that in Nancy's lap was so heartbreaking because their friend accepted them but it's still the fucking 50s and it's scary as hell.

AND THE MIRROR HOUSE SCENE?? WITH CYNTHIA SEARCHING THROUGH FOR LYDIA AND BEING VERY CLOSE BUT THEN AGAIN VERY FAR, UNTIL THEY CONNECTED AT THE END AND FINALLY GET THE RESOLUTION WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! MY HEART MELTED. THEY'RE ALL IN, LYDIA!

God, I just love love love the mirror house song and scene, it was so well done (I SCREAMED OKAY?? THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE THING). And Nancy not only preparing Cynthia to go in but encouraging her and even entering the house to make sure Lydia knew Cynthia was serious about their feelings? AMAZING. NANCYCYNTHIA BESTIES, YES.

I also sort of liked that Hazel is now a Pink Lady and sort of didn'? like, I love the message and I totally think If anyone else deserves a chance to be a Pink Lady, it's her... but like, the other four are so connected already because of everything that's happened between them. I'm not saying Hazel couldn't fit into that, but with a bond like theirs it's normal that she'll probably feel left out at least a little bit and that's not what I want.

OHH, AND THE LITTLE NODS TO GREASE AND GREASE 2 WERE SO GOOD. Potato's "speech" to keep things intereseting with Nancy mirroring Sandy's to Danny from the first movie made me cackle and I just looooveeee that they included the Pink Ladies' Pledge, not only the pledge in on itself but also that little part of the song from Grease 2. I loved it!!

The only thing that really bothered me from the episode was the cliffhanger in the end. Because I was expecting like, a cliffhanger and we got, well, name dropped. Which is not bad I guess, I just don't give a shit about whoever this Zuko is and what his relation to Danny is so I'm sort of hanging here for season 2 because If this is the main plot, I'm gonna be tuning in mostly for my favorite characters. Not saying the plot won't be good (because these writers are fenomenal), but it's not as interesting as of now for me personally.

WELL ANYWAY, I'M GONNA GO TO SLEEP NOW BUT I STILL WANT A SEASON 2, YOU HEAR ME PARAMOUNT?? LET'S GO.

#cynthia zdunowski #nancy nakagawa #lydia rotpl #grease rise of the pink ladies spoilers #grease rotpl spoilers #rise of the pink ladies spoilers #rotpl spoilers #grease rise of the pink ladies #grease rotpl #rise of the pink ladies #rotpl #olivia valdovinos #jane facciano

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

Note

I just finished reading your fic "Cursed By Blue" (AND IM SO IN LOVE, fr marry me 💍) and i was hoping you could make a different version but with Ja and Prager?

I KNEW this was coming LMAO (let's go on a honeymoon) here you go <3

"Cursed By Blue" 2.0

f. Recom Y/N x Recom Prager x Recom Ja

(I can't find a gif of Ja) heartbreak hotel

"Cursed By Blue"1. Masterlist

Summary: The recom team is out on another mission, exploring the woods in search of Sully. However, the ladies become inconvenienced by a certain seasonal feeling they didn’t expect. It hits Y/n the hardest and it’s not long before the others understand what’s happening. While everyone fights their instincts, the only option Y/N sees available is to run.

WARNINGS: SMUT, force with consent, predator/prey, heat fucking, heat cycles, penetration, unprotected sex, breeding kink, quickie, Z-Dog absolutely destroying everyone

Word Count: 4555

We were nearing the weekend. Not that that affected us. Lyle told me it was Friday today and I was surprised because I had completely lost track of time. But it didn’t really matter what day it was because we didn’t get time off anyway. Finding Jake was our number one priority and no breaks other than sleep were allowed.

So here we were again, walking deeper into the forest of Pandora. It had just passed lunch time and we were here since early morning.

No one was tired though, not yet. We weren’t allowed to be either.

Today also happened to be warmer than usual so I wasn't wearing my usual long-sleeved attire and pants. I dressed like Walker usually did, in a sports bra and shorts. She and Z-Dog decided to wear tank tops like most of the others.

The forest grew quieter the more we distanced ourselves from the RDA base and the city. Soon, we could only hear the wind blowing between the leaves and the distant calls of animals. That and our heavy footsteps.

The Colonel and Lyle started the day off by leading us into the woods. As the hours passed by, the line mixed since everyone had a different walking pace and now it was Z-Dog and me leading at the front. Walker was close behind.

I had been excessively drinking for the last 30-45 minutes and I wasn’t sure why. Z-Dog glanced over at me when she saw me reach for another water bottle.

“That’s your third one already. Are you okay”? She asks, watching me gulp it down. I swallow most of the water and inhale sharply, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I don’t know.” I say, gasping for air. “Maybe I’m dehydrated?”

“Don’t think so, we always drink the same amount and I’m fine.” Z-Dog says. We continue walking for a while longer in silence, thinking. Then Z reaches for her water and starts drinking it like she’s been running.

I laugh a little but seeing her drink made me feel thirsty again.

I reach for my water only to notice I have a few drops left. I down the remaining liquid and hold the bottle to my head. It seemed to be getting really warm.

Turning around, I open my mouth and want to say something to Walker only to see her finishing her own bottle of water. I look behind me fully and no one else is drinking.

“What. The. Fuck.” I say, feeling genuinely confused. Walker looks up at me with water drizzling down her chin and Z turns around.

I wheeze and Z laughs and we wait for Walker to catch up so we can walk together.

“Do you have any water left?” I ask her, knowing we at the front drank ours.

“No, that was my last bottle.” she says and I notice how heavy my breathing is becoming.

“Wait, you ran out too?” she asks and Z-Dog scoffs.

“Yeah, been drinkin’ like we ran a marathon.” she says and I nod.

“I’ll ask the others.” I say before turning around and seeing Mansk behind me.

“Can I have some of your water?” I ask, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. Compared to us, Mansk is not sweating at all. He’s wearing his usual long-sleeved jacket over his tank top.

The man glances up at me and his eyebrows furrow for a split second before he nods and hands one of his bottles over.

“You ran out already?” he asks while I open it and drink about half.

I wipe my mouth again, closing my eyes for a second and nodding. “Yeah.” I breathe out. “Thanks.” I say, handing it back to him.

“Y’ alright?” he asks again taking the bottle back and I nod, not thinking much of it. Mansk doesn’t seem convinced.

Ja overheard our conversation and sped up his walk to catch up to us. When Mansk noticed his presence he seemed a little relieved.

“Is she okay?” he asks his colleague. Ja was the medic of the group so he would know. He took a glance at me and also thought of what I suggested.

“Did you drink enough?” he asks me and I nod.

“Yeah, I drank all my water and some of Mansk’s.” I scoff, wiping sweat from my forehead again.

Ja presses the back of his hand against my cheek and then my forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” he said, scanning over me.

I was feeling extremely warm. My skin felt like it was burning and my clothes suddenly felt tight and restrictive.

In front of us, Z-Dog and Walker are discussing something.

Ja felt up my arm and checked my pulse while we were walking and Mansk stayed on my other side in case I was in fact not okay.

“Yeah, somethin’s definitely not right.” Ja announces to us, not quite sure how to help me. Mansk has his eyebrows furrowed, examining my behaviour.

“They have it too.” I say, pointing at Z-Dog and Walker who now turn around. Walker is grimacing a little and Z looks worried.

Mansk’s and Ja’s heads look up at them and they notice that they are breathing heavily and sweating just like me. Ja also takes note of the empty bottles in their hands.

“Everthin’ okay up there?” the Colonel calls. It seems as though the others have noticed the small commotion and the medical check-up.

Ja turns around, rubbing the back of his head.

“Uh- no sir not really.” he calls back, stopping in his tracks to wait for Quaritch so that he can explain. Mansk and I keep walking and he watches me intently as I break out into a type of pant. My ears are pinned back and my tail is wildly flicking around behind me. My eyelids also happen to suddenly grow heavy and I keep them half-lidded.

What snaps me out of my haze is Z calling my name.

“Hey, Y/N come over here for a sec.” she says, turning around. Walker is running her hand down her face in what looks like frustration.

I nod, jogging over and leaving Mansk behind. He’s still watching me, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Neither Z nor Walker looks like they feel like joking around anymore.

“Have you read the manual?” she asks and it takes me a few seconds to realise she means the Na’vi Body data.

“Yeah, of course, we had to.” I say, trying to play it cool. She raises an eyebrow and I sigh.

“I stopped once I reached the shit about plants. It got boring.” I say and she nods, knowing damn well she didn’t read further than that either.

“Walker read it, and it said somethin’ ‘bout a heat cycle.” Z says and I glance at Walker.

“Yeah… we’re not dehydrated. I remember the symptoms. It’s happening right now.” Walker says, scanning my reddened face.

“Does it burn?” Z asks and my ears perk forward for once, being relieved from the tense strain I kept them in the past half hour.

“Everything burns.” I say.

“You know what I mean.” she adds and I groan in frustration too.

“Yeah.” I mumble. I can’t deny the heat that’s been forming between my legs. I tried ignoring it but it grew worse.

“Do you feel, like-” Z says, gasping for air herself. “...uncontrollably horny?” she asks with a light laugh and Walker smirks.

I have no shame admitting anything in front of them so I chuckle and answer. “More like painfully horny.”

They laugh a little, struggling to even out their breathing.

“We need to distance ourselves from them.” Walker says, glancing over her shoulder. “Especially you Y/N you seem to have it bad.” she chuckles, motioning to my panting self. “Otherwise we’re done for and this squad will no longer be as professional.”

My eyes widen. “Wait- you’re joking right? It’ll go away like tomorrow. How would they know about this if we don’t tell them?” I ask and Walker opens her mouth to answer but before she can, my answer is handed to me differently.

“You smell that?” someone says behind us. My heart stops pounding for a second. Right our new senses have us picking up more.

“These cursed blue bitches.” I swear and Z breathily laughs, seeming to know how screwed we are. She’s passed the stage of denial and is now accepting our fate.

We turn around and notice that Lyle was talking to Prager. Prager nodded and they stopped walking. Mansk had also stopped in his tracks, turning to them. Behind them, Ja, Quaritch, Brown, Lopez and the remaining team catch up and everyone comes to a halt.

Quaritch walks between them and deeply inhales. He looks around, noticing how his soldiers are smelling what he is too.

I feel my heart slowly drop and I hold on to Z-Dog for some comfort. All three of us are watching them, dreading their reaction.

“What is it?” Lopez asks.

“No idea, but it’s fuckin’ great.” Lyle chuckles and my breath catches in my throat.

It seems to affect them too. As Lyle inhales, his own tail is swishing around behind him and his muscles flex. He’s growing restless and the recom’s are looking at their Colonel for an answer or instructions.

My heart seems to stop beating when I see Ja turn to me. Prager’s gaze meets mine as well and it’s so intimidating which is unlike both of them. They’re watching my every movement and I take a step back, my grip on Z’s arm tightening.

“Oh fuck.” I whisper while barely moving my lips. I feel a little hazy again and start leaning against Z-Dog. She sighs looking more pissed than worried and catches me, trying to keep me upright.

The soldiers follow Ja’s, Prager’s and the Colonel’s eyes and notice us standing a bit further away.

“It ain’t dehydration, I can tell ya that.” Quaritch says, referring to Ja’s hypothesis of what might be happening. Seems like he read the manual too.

The stupid excitement in my stomach has grown so big it’s making me feel sick. And all their eyes on us have me more nervous.

"Do we kill them or ourselves?" Walker asks, not liking any of this.

“Can we leave?” I whisper to Z and she nods, staring down the others as if they would move when she looks away.

“Yeah, come on.” she says, guiding me forwards. I take a wobbly step, almost stumbling.

Walking won’t do it. I have so much adrenaline coursing through my veins I want to run away.

I glance back, noticing everyone’s tense poses. Their eyes follow our every move, making them seem almost predatory. My only instinct now is to run.

Z gives me a push and my legs take off. I start running and hear Walker and Z-Dog do the same behind me. There’s a commotion happening behind them and the next time I glance behind me, everyone is chasing after us.

It was a miserable escape attempt, to be honest. We were already so out of breath compared to them, we really didn’t make it far.

Z caught up to me because she was not affected by the heat as much as me.

Within the next few seconds, I was tackled to the ground, luckily hitting the soft grass. I fall with a shriek and when I look up I see Z-Dog made it a little further but she’s down now too.

I felt bodyweight on my back and a hand wrapped around the back of my neck. I couldn’t move. Z-Dog could and the man that pushed her was getting a beating right now. She wasn’t having any of it.

I cry out, feeling uncomfortable in this position. My chest was pressed into the ground and I was struggling to breathe.

The feeling and the effects of the scent the recom’s picked up had everyone acting on their primal instincts. Most common sense was gone as their new bodies seemed to be overpowered by the will of nature.

The scent had the soldiers feel just as worked up as the heat cycle did. Instinctively, they ran after the ‘potential mate’ they felt most attracted to because that was Eywa’s will.

I couldn’t say anything, I felt completely overwhelmed and somehow, submitting to him felt like the right thing to do. My right mind would never let this happen but I couldn’t think of anything else but finding some relief in this agonising feeling. My body longed for this.

“Shh- it’s alright.” A voice from above me cooed. “Just stop movin’.”

My eyes shoot wide open and I recognise that it’s Ja. His hands found mine, and he held them together behind my back while leaning forward and speaking close to my ear.

Another pair of heavy footsteps come to a halt close to me and I see how a weapon is thrown to the ground on my left.

Ja is straddling me, keeping a knee on my lower back to pin me down while he removes the heavy medical equipment from his back.

I whine and struggle beneath him again but this time his hand catches my jaw, holding my face still and making me look forwards. He leans down, pressing his face against the side of my head.

“I know how to help you, princess. Quit the movin’.” he told me, almost snarling his words.

Next to us I hear a shout of pain and see how Z-Dog has fought a man to the ground. At least she was going to be fine. Ja turns my head away from her, not wanting me to get any ideas from her.

“Fuck- we really doin’ this?” Another person says and I realise Prager is here too.

“Shut up and help me out here.” Ja replies, growing restless and impatient.

The shouting in the distance is increasing and I hear Walker and Z-Dog just demolishing things while the Colonel is yelling and getting angry that equipment is being destroyed.

Both Prager and Ja’s head’s shoot over to the commotion and they exchange looks.

A gunshot suddenly makes me flinch and I want to turn my head to see what the actual fuck is happening but Ja doesn’t let me.

Without hesitating another second, Ja moves off of me and both men hurl me to my feet, quickly dragging me behind a tree. I’m being pulled backwards so I finally get a small glimpse of the action and I notice that something has been set on fire. Looking at what I think are Z-Dog and Walker, I notice how they’ve put the fire between themselves and the others. There was too much going on.

Suddenly I was being pushed down again and I landed on my knees. Prager and Ja had pulled me away from the others just enough to get some type of privacy.

The last thing either of the men wanted was one of the others interfering with you.

I move forwards, staying on my knees but leaning against one of my arms that I now placed on the ground. My free one wrapped around my middle section and I continued to pant. The sensations I felt were so odd. My body seemed to be buzzing and I was overwhelmed.

Prager and Ja were hastily removing their vests and other equipment, knowing they didn’t have all day and they were not going to waste this opportunity.

Footsteps jog over to me and Ja lands on his knees in front of me. I look up and see that his torso is bare. With the current state I’m in I can’t help but stare.

He smirks, cupping my flushed cheek and making me look up at his face.

“That’s right baby, you’ll get what you want.” he said. Since he was a medic, he had to know everything about the Na’vi body and he knew very well what I needed now.

My eyes widen at his words as I can only imagine what he means. He chuckles and looks at his friend.

“Ain’t that right, Prager?”

“Fuckin’ right.” Prager answers and moments later I hear a thud on the ground behind me. He too dropped to his knees and I heard him unbuckling his belt. Ja swiped a strand of hair from my face, brushing it back before smiling. We locked eyes again and he mirrored Prager’s actions, opening and removing his belt with one hand, making me swallow nervously.

“You want this, don’t you baby?” Ja asked, making sure he and Prager were good to go. I nod, letting out another impatient whine while my fingers tug at the waistband of his pants.

Ja chuckles, nodding at Prager before opening his pants. I watch with parted lips, not even noticing the drool leaking down the side of my mouth.

Hands are around my waist and my own pants are being tugged down my legs. Prager pulls them off, throwing them to the side and rubbing over all of the newly exposed skin. He rested his hand on my ass, squeezing the flesh before pulling my panties to the side. His hand wrapped around my tail, lifting it into the air so that my wet cunt was exposed to him.

I shiver when the cool breeze hits my hot skin. Prager hums approvingly, tracing his fingers around my core before sliding his thumb through my folds.

“Y/N?” Prager says from behind me and I look over my shoulder, seeing he discarded his pants. “Ready?” he asks, wanting to make sure I was still okay.

I nod my head, breathily saying ‘yes’ because I was out of breath. To make it clear to him I push my hips back, pressing them right up against him. I feel his bare thighs press up against the back of mine and his now free dick is resting between my ass cheeks.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he curses under his breath and Ja scoffs, wanting some attention too.

I face forwards again, looking up at Ja who pulled his pants halfway down his thighs, revealing his own length to me. My eyes grow wide and I look at him to make sure I can touch him.

He tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of my head, edging me closer to him until my hot breath is hitting his skin.

My tail wraps around Prager’s slim waist, pulling him further into me to encourage him to finally do something. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Ja’s eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are slightly parted as he watches me and I take the hint. I open my mouth and stick out my saliva-covered tongue, licking around the base of his throbbing erection. His body shudders in excitement while he inhales sharply, tucking in his bottom lip between his teeth.

I smile at him before moving my tongue further up his dick until I reached his tip. It’s where he’s the most sensitive. It’s also the area I will devote most of my attention to.

Prager pulled his hips back a bit, his right hand tightly gripping my waist while his left lined up his pulsing cock with my hole.

Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, watching with lust-darkened eyes how the head of his dick was being engulfed by me.

I close my eyes and moan while keeping my lips attached to Ja’s length. His breathing stuttered unevenly as he felt the vibrations soar through him and then he let his head fall back once my lips wrapped around his tip.

I sucked on it, keeping my ears perked forward to catch every noise he made. He cursed while looking up at the sky, before watching me work my way down him.

I swirled my tongue around his tip and then pushed myself further down. He already hit the back of my mouth but I decided to not stop there because I only had half of him in my mouth.

His fingers tightened in my hair but he didn’t push me down further. Ja let me go at my own pace, he just needed to grab onto something to keep him grounded.

Prager had now pushed all the way in and it immediately felt good. I was finally full. My eyes fluttered closed as I spread my legs further apart for him, arching my back to see if he could go deeper.

He was hypnotised by my inviting movements and realised how my desperate attempts for more made him even harder.

Luckily, Prager didn’t keep me waiting and soon found a steady pace.

I was being nudged forwards with each thrust of Prager’s hips and thereby moved my head up and down Ja’s dick. I inhaled deeply through my nose, closing my eyes to concentrate as I pushed my head down further down him.

Ja’s eyes turned from watching me half-closed to being unable to look away. He was surprised by how much of him you were able to take and it made his dick twitch in your mouth. Fuck, how did he only realise now how perfect you were?

Prager’s hips snap forward more suddenly this time, rocking me further forward so that my nose hits Ja’s abdomen while his dick is down my throat. Ja’s mouth is hanging open and he moans once he bottoms out.

“Holy shit-” he curses through clenched teeth as he fights his body and tries his absolute best not to spill just yet. “Didn’t know you could take it all.” he breathes out, trying to calm his panting. I hum in response, pulling back before pushing down all the way again. Ja’s muscles flex as his body floods with waves of pleasure.

Prager is pulling my hips back against his now, every time he thrusts into me and with my further spread legs, he hits my sweet spot at a new angle, managing to plunge himself deeper into me.

I moan around Ja, going weak in the arms for a second and he curses.

“Shit. Whatever you’re doin’ Prager-” he groans, clenching his eyes closed. “Don’t stop.”

Prager nods with a grin, relishing in the feeling of your warm walls tightly hugging him. He also takes note of the slick slowly running down your thighs. The sight turned him on so much he couldn’t wait to cum deep inside you. The way you started rocking into him indicated you were close so he was glad he wouldn’t have to restrain himself for too long.

Ja was so close to losing it, shivering and groaning every time your face pressed against his lower stomach.

I decided to take it up a notch and hollowed my cheeks around him each time I pushed forward. This way I was creating a strong suction, not letting his dick escape my mouth when I pulled back. His tip always stayed in my mouth.

Suddenly Ja whimpered, making my ears shoot forward.

He threw his head back moaning “Fuck, fuck fuck-” and couldn’t stop his hand from pushing your head down him as far as possible. His hips bucked forwards and he stilled while his entire body tensed and he released his load deep down your throat.

The way you hollowed your cheeks made him cum instantly, loving the feeling of how you sucked him dry.

Prager’s huffing turned into groans and growls as he dug his fingertips into my hips, rutting into me like there was no tomorrow.

I swallow all of Ja’s cum and he releases my hair, sitting back on his knees and breathing heavily. I gently pull back from him, letting out a small cough before licking away any remaining cum on his dick. He watched me with soft eyes, almost falling in love at the sight.

Prager moans, letting his head hang down for a second as he leans over my back and wraps both arms around my waist. His head is resting in the crook of my neck while his chest is pressed up against my back and his hips continue their brutal pace. Our skin slaps against each other and I know my ass is going to be red or at least a shade of purple by the time we are done.

I’m finally so close to my own high that I curl my fingers in the grass, pushing my ass further into the air so that he can access my cunt better.

Prager doesn’t stop ploughing into me and continues the bruising pace while the sweat on our bodies mixes.

“Prager-” I moan, closing my eyes. “I’m so- close.”

His deep voice growls into my ear when he hears the words, making him speed up his thrusts even more.

“Cum for us. C’mon.” he breathes, encouraging me as he feels his own high near him.

I cry out and suddenly I’m pushed over the edge. My pussy clenches around Prager’s dick as he rides out my orgasm which leaves my arms and legs shaking.

His hips stutter and once I’ve come down from my high, he bites down into my shoulder and buries himself as deep into me as possible. His cum shoots into me, filling me up while my now sensitive pussy throbs around him.

His hot breath coming from his nose is fanning against my shoulder which he gently releases from his bite. Prager looks down at it, not quite sure why he felt the need to do that.

“You okay?” he whispers, nuzzling his face into my neck and awaiting a response.

I nod, inhaling deeply. “Yeah. Much better.”

Ja chuckles and Prager smiles before pushing himself off of me and gently pulling out.

He leans back, examining how his semen is drizzling out of my cum stuffed cunt.

“That’s stayin’ there.” He said, fingering it back in with his fingers. I gasp, biting down on my teeth. Ja rubs my attacked shoulder, wiping some blood away with his thumb in an attempt to soothe me a little while Prager puts my panties on, making sure most of his cum was still inside me.

They dressed me first which I appreciated, helping me back into my pants before they clothed themselves. While they were getting dressed I just lay on the forest floor, going over what just happened.

At least I was no longer burning up. I was sure it would come back but it was solved for now.

They walk over to me, gently but effortlessly heaving me to my feet and both of them chuckle when my legs tremble.

“Don’t worry, we got you.” Prager said, wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me walk again.

When we returned to the others, the ground was a mess. The fire had been put out but a soldier which Z had probably hit was sitting on the ground with a cooling blue pack over their eye. Seems like Fike got the worst beating.

They were all sitting on the ground and the Colonel was walking by them, making them fix all the equipment that had been broken.

We were glad not to be a part of that and managed to rejoin them without raising suspicion. Everyone was distracted so they didn’t notice me struggling to stand and Ja and Prager refusing to leave my side.

Tag List: @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

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villainessprefect · 1 year

Text

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Traditional Confession

Prompt #9: Traditional Valentines Day confession. Giving them chocolates and a kiss if you’re brave enough.

Floyd x gn!reader

Read on AO3

Tightly holding the box of chocolates against your chest, you survey the crowd to find who you're looking for. It's not that hard to find one of the twins. Amongst the sea of students, they stand out with their height and intimidating aura. But you're not looking for both, just one. The one that has his tail wrapped around your heart.

Your face heats up as you think of him. You're grateful that no one is really paying attention to you. The last thing you want is to get cold feet. You simply could not allow that to happen! You would proceed with your plan as if your life depends on it!

"Floyd!" You chirp out his name the moment you spot him. He's lazily heading towards the gym- did he have basketball practice today? Perhaps your timing could have been better.

"Shrimpy!"

The moment he hears his name, the eel lights up. He calls out for you, wearing the widest grin imaginable. With his eyes set on you, he makes a mad dash your way.

Most would fear the predator making a beeline toward them, but you? You don't. You're the only brave (and reckless) soul that stands their ground whenever either twin approaches you.

Floyd swoops you up in his arms the moment he's close enough to you. He lifts you up and squeezes you against his chest. The eel nuzzles his head against yours, treating you like how a child would treat a stuffed plush that they've been reunited with after missing for days.

You can't help but let out a light laugh as you return the embrace, not squeezing as hard as he could, you doubt you'd ever match his strength. Unfortunately, you can't stay like this forever. The box in your hand signals that you had a mission to complete.

"Floyd, let me down for a sec?"

"Mmmm, no~" He hums, keeping his hold on you. He takes in a breath and releases it. "Why would I wana let my lil Shrimpy go?"

"Because I have something for you." You try to sound confident and cool, but your voice quiets to the admission.

His eyes widen upon hearing you had a gift for him. 'Gifts' are only given to him as bribes to stop him from doing his work. Sure, he'd take them and maybe spare the other if he felt like it, but that would only prolong the inevitable. But gifts from you? There was no bribery involved. You gave without expecting anything in return. Which, in his opinion, is quite stupid but...interesting.

He sets you down, only letting you go once he knows your feet are firmly settled on the ground.

"Well, whatcha got for me?" He giggles with an expectant gaze.

You take in a breath. Calm down. This will be okay, right? You got him while he's in a good mood. Everything will be fine. You don't intend to make him wait either, not for fear of his mood shifting but because you don't want to lose to your worries.

So, you hold out the small heart-shaped box towards him.

"For you," you state with a blush.

He blinks and tilts his head. Floyd takes the box from your hands and practically rips the top off. His eyes seem to sparkle once he sees what's inside.

"Whoa! They're like a mini Azul~!" He laughs as he takes out a chocolate-shaped octopus. It quickly disappears past his lips, is chopped up into pieces by his teeth, and goes down his throat. He hums in delight.

"Do you like them?" You ask, nervous. "I tried my best to make them-"

"Shrimpy made these? For me?" He looks amazed. Although his face drops to a pout shortly after. "Awww why didn't ya tell me ya could cook? I could have had ya make me my lunch."

You chuckle. "I don't really. I just wanted to do this for today."

"What's the occasion?" He asks.

You can't tell if it's just plain curiosity or if he knows what today is. It's not like NRC really celebrates Valentine's Day. There was no mention of it in class nor was there any event planned for it. There had been a couple of students fretting over this fateful day, but it was nothing like how it worked in your world. Still, you find it hard to believe that Floyd didn't know what today is.

"Today is Valentine's Day," you squeak out.

"Valentines, huh?" He repeats as he pops another chocolate in his mouth. "Oh, yeah that's a human holiday, right?"

You nod.

"What's it gotta do with chocolates?"

Oh, he's making you explain everything, isn't he? You'd think he's joking, but he's looking at you with such a serious gaze. Maybe he isn't aware of the holiday. You figure that Azul would try to profit from it in some form and, in turn, the twins would know about it. If Floyd didn't then at least Jade would and you're fairly certain that he would spill the beans to his brother.

"Well... it's a holiday where you basically..." You clear your throat. "Confess to someone you love." Your voice shrinks as you speak. It's terribly embarrassing to admit what you're doing despite already doing it.

Floyd grins. "What was that, Shrimpy? Couldn't hear ya."

You gulp and look down. He totally heard you. He just wants to hear you say it louder.

Fine.

You usher him to bend down. Floyd obeys after biting off the head of an octopus. He wears that proud grin, waiting for you to speak up once more.

But you don't dare to speak. Instead, you take in a breath and push down all your fears. With a surge of reckless courage, you lean forward and press your lips against his cheek. You feel your own burn, but at this point, you don't really care.

"I love you, Floyd," you breathe out against his cheek. It's shocking how your tone differs from your actions. The timid voice doesn't match your bravery.

Floyd blinks at the kiss. He stands tall, staring down at you. He's oddly silent, stunned, shocked. Fear shoots through you and you begin to worry about what you've done.

"Shrimpy," he starts with a mischievous tone. "That's not how you kiss."

"Wha-?"

The box of chocolates drops to the ground. Surprisingly none escape the box to meet a cruel fate with the floor. Not that it really matters right now. Floyd focuses on you and you alone. His hands grip onto your shoulders, tight enough to keep you steady. He doesn't have to, but he wants to make sure you'll stay. His lips press against yours, stunning you in return.

Unlike you, this eel is hungry for more. He dares to nip at your lips, sharp teeth pricking at your skin. You squeak and he takes advantage of your open mouth to deepen the kiss. Now you can taste the chocolate from his lips. You've tasted it before, as a test, but somehow it tastes better, sweeter, when being shared through him.

Floyd pulls back, licking his lips. He doesn't look satisfied at all, heterochromatic eyes burning into your soul. His smile widens, baring his teeth yet you don't feel like you're in danger.

"That's how you kiss~" he giggles.

"I-I'll remember...for next time," you answer. Your voice is small, quiet. Your breath is quite literally taken away by this predator. It's as if the roles have reversed. Your surprise had been returned with one you weren't expecting.

Floyd picks up the box of chocolates. He carefully examines them, ensuring that they weren't contaminated. There's a couple left that he can enjoy before they're gone forever.

"I'm glad ya finally confessed~! I was getting tired of waiting for ya to do so. Guess Jade was right to wait until today."

"Jade was...?" You pause. You stare at the eel as he munched on another chocolate. He looked happy and pleased with what happened. "So you knew!"

Floyd lets out a loud laugh. The look on your face is just too funny. Of course, he knew! Still, you're neither upset nor angry, how could you be? Taking the risk was worth it knowing your feelings were returned.

#twisted wonderland #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x you #octavinelle #request #tell it to my heart event

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yesimilkdamilkman · 5 days

Text

···➯ 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰.

⋆.˚ ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐗 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞; Art credits to @purplemys. Also, very proud of myself to be the first to post Francis Angst🤗🤗. I made this because one of my moots thought it was okay to tell me she wanted to write Francis cheating on us, so blame her. Also got help from another moot, with some of this!! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; You both just wanted to get home, but only one of you did.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; ANGST, ANGST AND MORE ANGST. Major Character Death, murder, and gore, established relationship.

04.19.24 | 𝟔𝟐𝟖 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

✂〰〰〰〰〰

"You got your papers ready?" You asked Francis, knowing he usually forgets to have them ready, "mm.. I do." Slim finger rubbing up and down on your shoulder while the other held the umbrella you two shared. You were holding his milk carrier that was filled with empty Jars. You both picked up the paste, wanted to get back home before the storm got any worse, or a doppelganger wanted you both as its dinner.

Your building had finally come into your and Francis' line of view. You heard him let out a relifed sigh, as he squeeze your shoulder and kiss your cheek.

You both turn your head to the road, as a bottle rolls down the street, with blood on it. Your heart dropped instantly as you whipped your head, looking down the street, and saw it.

Ms.Laker, you know knew her it, but that wasn't her. It tried to mimic her, but the face was thinning and drooping like ice cream on a hot summer day. It was staring at you and Francis, like a predator that watches its prey.

"Go," you heard him but, you didn't hear him. "Go, Run now!" He repeated himself, dropping the umbrella while pushing you back. And Just as you and Francis took off, you heard a screech. Coming from the creature, as it began to chase you both.

But, with you and heels and Francis being a smoker. It wasn't, long before it had caught up to you both. You felt something called cold and slimy wrap around your ankle, dragging you back. The milk carrier dropped, while the bottles rolled elsewhere.

"Francis!"

Snapping his neck to look back he saw you, and that thing dragging you away. He knew that you both weren't getting out of this.

He grabbed one of the empty jars and launched at whatever was wrapped around your ankle, splitting it in 2 giving you enough time to kick off your heels and run to the building. You and Francis made eye contact but he only nodded at you. You kept running, trusting that he would catch up to you and call the D.D.D. to clean up this mess.

The thing screeched, before redirecting its attention at Francis . Francis grabbed another bottle close to him, charging at it. It pulled back an arm, while Francis raised the bottle in his hand.

Francis came in arms reach with it, as it did with it. It swiped at Francis' stomach as he rammed the bottle into its head; killing it.

You heard wails, one sounded human and one didn't, you turned around, looking in horror as that thing lay down on the ground with a bottle in its head. And Francis stood there for a few seconds, before falling onto the crimson concrete. You had watched him, wrap his arms around his stomach as his inside fell out, like slime pouring over a counter.

Letting out a scream, before turning on the balls of your feet and rushing toward Francis. Lifting his upper body into your arm weeping, as the realization set in that; he was dying. You didn't, couldn't say anything. All you did was cry; mourning at the loss of your fiance. He lifted his arm covered in his own blood, caressing your cheek, trying to say anything but he couldn't, choking on his own fluids as he stared at you in fear. But dropping his arm, and his body relaxed.

Serins, were becoming louder, it was the D.D.D. Someone must've seen and called but it was too late. Sitting in the middle of the blooded street with the love of your life, limp in your arms. Covered in his blood, you cried as you held onto the man, that you knew.

Taglist: @madeofsoil, @theclownster, @megan016, @lunaria1, @betterthanyalls, @crystical33, @cosypinky2, @h4ngingbyathread, @jojikawa, @Colorfulgardenerducky, @vvivvan, @write-tama, @jojikawa, @punster888

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serpentarius · 3 months

Text

Anton and Viago want to #SaveOFMD

“Babe,” Anton calls out to Viago, who’s been lounging in the other room while Anton’s catching up on work. “Can you grab me the charger? Laptop’s dying and I’ve gotta finish reading these manuals tonight. Think it’s by the sofa.”

He hears Viago shuffling for a minute. But then, the silence drags on a bit too long, so the werewolf checks in again. “Vi? S’it there?”

No response, still. Barely any sound actually. Though after nine years of being together, and the most recent five of those living together, Anton’s learned that vampires are amazing at sneaking up on people, on account of being able to levitate and move at paranormal speeds. And the completely unnecessary need to breathe. Natural predators, them.

“You alright in there, love?” he tries again, voice tinged with a tiny bit of concern this time.

And suddenly, the vampire - his vampire - appears at the threshold of Anton’s study. He’s not floating, but walking slowly. His mouth is formed into what appears to be the biggest pout-frown Anton’s seen on him in months, maybe even years, and even from where Anton’s sitting he can see his eyes are glassy. He’s staring down at the phone between his hands (the Galaxy Note that Anton had bought him for his last birthday, equipped with a stylus since they’d learned that touch screens didn’t register vampire fingerprints), but he still isn’t saying anything.

“Babe!” Anton immediately gets up from his seat and goes over to him. “What’s wrong??”

He’s just put a hand to Viago’s face, the action silently urging the vampire to speak despite the tears now spilling down his cheeks, and puts his other hand on Viago’s shoulder.

“Anton,” Viago’s voice wobbles. Christ, Anton’s heart always feels like it’s been pierced when Viago is upset. “It has been cancelled.”

(Ficlet continues under the cut! Happy ending impending, I promise ❤️️)

He feels his own face twist with confusion. “What has, love?? What’s been cancelled?”

“Our pirate show,” and there’s a frantic panic in the other man’s tone, now, lips quivering and brows furrowed in disbelief. “Our beloved pirate show!”

“Our Flag Means Death?” Anton exclaims. He starts to shake his head, “No, no - what? No way, Vi, where’d you hear that?”

Viago’s cheeks hollow, as if forcing himself to hold back more tears.

“It is all over the news outlets.”

“What?” Anton repeats. “But I was just on Twitter a few days ago and it was - it seemed like a sure thing! Samson put up some not-so-vague posts on Instagram, and Jenkins was engaging with the fans–” “He is the one who has announced it!” and now, Viago has turned his phone toward Anton, and Anton’s eyes take a second to focus. He’s met with a picture of a familiar unicorn masthead, beautiful and backlit, and then he scrolls down to see the caption–

And his heart sinks.

OUR FLAG won’t be returning for a third season.

“What the hell,” he wants to yell, but it comes out as a soft, broken whisper instead. “No, what? This has to be a joke…”

The vampire shakes his head sadly.

“What the fuck?” and now, the werewolf feels the volume rising in his chest. "What's the network thinking, doing this?!"

Viago’s face crumples. Another shooting pain in Anton’s chest. “It is not a joke,” and he’s openly sobbing now, unable to hold them back anymore, and on reflex Anton pulls him close, wrapping one arm around his waist and placing his other hand on the back of Viago’s neck, letting him settle his face into the crook of his neck. “It’s not fair,” Viago muffles out, voice thick, “Why would they do this?”

“Christ. I really don’t know, babe,” Anton murmurs. He’s at a complete loss for words - his stomach is flipping and the upset is rocking his core, and he's angry, and off-balance, and there’s nothing he can say that can make this better. “I genuinely don’t know.”

Perhaps another partner would tell their sobbing significant other not to get so upset about a television show. That these things happened all the time, that this was just how the business went sometimes; that time would heal the wound, and that something new would eventually come and take its place.

But that’s now how Anton feels.

Since its release, Our Flag Means Death quickly became their thing.

Even with him working more evening shifts these past few years–in an attempt to adjust his sleep hours to spend more time with Viago–the opposing nature of their natural schedules still weighed on them some days.

So having this shared interest together - something to look forward to, one of the few things they would never dare to participate in without the other - was lovely, and deeply special. Nothing could replace what this show meant to them.

It started out as quite a lighthearted viewing experience. They enjoyed the new episodes every week and giggled in delight over pirate shenanigans, and couldn't help pointing out the somewhat uncanny physical similarities of the actors playing Ed and Stede to Viago and Anton themselves.

It wasn’t until more than halfway through, though, that they realized a romance plot was building up between the leads. As the story progressed, there were more moments that pulled on their heartstrings, almost entirely in sync with each other. When Ed's eyes would light up around Stede, or when Stede tucked the red silk into Ed’s vest and told him you wear fine things well, Anton would glance over at Viago, and his chest would swell at the sight of him. Happy, beautiful, clearly very touched by it all, and just a second later, glancing right back at Anton with love in his eyes.

And then, the kiss. Anton and Viago had both been holding their breaths during the buildup, anxiously watching Ed and Stede talk through their feelings on the beach, hoping the moment was coming, and yet still rocked by pleasant surprise when it actually did.

But then, Stede didn’t show up to the dock. And Ed went back to the Revenge. And then, they were at the finale.

The pair of them were already emotional wrecks partway through the episode, and then suddenly they were screaming through their tears when the final shot closed on Stede in the dinghy.

"How the hell could they end it there!" Anton had yelled, now on his feet and just inches away from the television. “How could they end it like that??”

"I think that David Jenkins is an evil genius!" Viago had yelled back.

“Stede has to find Ed!” Anton continued. “I mean, they’ve gotta have a series two now, right? Right?”

“He has to find him,” the vampire had said with wide eyes and his hands clasped in front of his heart. “He has to!”

(Anton’s not ashamed to admit that, when they’d tumbled into bed together soonafter the finale, they held each other even tighter than usual. With every kiss, each breathless gasp and tangled limb and treacle-sweet term of endearment whispered into the other’s skin, the I love yous flowed freely from them, even long after their bodies were spent. Ed may not have known how Stede felt about him yet, but Anton had long ago made it his life’s purpose to never let Viago forget how much he loves him.)

The wait for the news on series two renewal was grueling, particularly because it seemed the network was taking a ridiculously long time to renew a show that was so clearly a hit, having already amassed a gargantuan fan base.

During these months, Anton had become somewhat obsessed and found himself on Twitter - an app he had previously avoided like the plague - only because it allowed him to monitor for any Our Flag-related news. Unfortunately it had become somewhat of an addiction, though luckily whenever Viago would ask what had gotten him so glued to his phone, Anton felt he could be honest, and Viago’s irritation would ease once he’d snuggle up to Anton so they could scroll together.

At long last, the series two news came, and the pair of them celebrated for the entire following week. Celebrations included a season one rewatch, Viago overindulging on blood bank baggies, and Anton overindulging in one too many rye and gingers. (And sex. Lots of sex.)

When series two finally aired, it was even better than ever, and they’d filmed it in Aotearoa! The couple hadn’t been able to make it up to Auckland to try and catch a glimpse of production while it was happening, but that hadn’t mattered much. It didn’t take away from the distinct, glowing sense of pride Anton felt, and he couldn’t wait to see the breathtaking landscapes of his home country dazzle the silver screen.

And it definitely didn’t disappoint. Even with the heartbreak of Izzy’s fate at the end, both he and Viago felt like this series had been an even grander rollercoaster than its predecessor. And in their hours-long discussions after the fact, they agreed that Ed and Stede being on their own for a little while was a good idea; that they needed the chance to be away from pirating to sort their own relationship out.

“They will return to the ship, though,” Viago had adamantly stated. "I do not think they will make very good innkeepers, after all. And I do wonder if that Frenchie will make a suitable captain…”

“Frenchie’s plenty capable, babe! Plus, he’s got a ship full of badasses to help him out if he ever slips up.”

“This is true. They have Zheng the Pirate Queen and Auntie, and Fang!”

“Don’t skimp on the merit for the rest of the crew,” Anton points out. “Even with Buttons gone, Jim and Oluwande know their way ‘round the ship. And Lucius is a proper pirate now, and you’ve got the veterans like Pete, Wee John, and Roach... plus, oh, they’ve got the Swede back too! And I dunno if Spanish Jackie’s ever sailed but I’m sure she could teach them a thing or two about something - man. They must be having a ball of a time on there.”

“Ja, you are right of course, my love,” Viago replies warmly, and he zones out for a moment, likely getting lost in the idea of the pirate family at sea. Then, suddenly, “Ooh, I have just had the best idea! We should make a party for Calypso’s birthday and invite all the others! We can decorate the flat and wear pirate-y costumes.”

“And buy a barrel of rum?” Anton adds cheekily.

“It would not be complete without that, of course. And of course, also a barrel of blood for us vampires.”

Anton grins at him. “Brilliant idea as always, love.”

Because yes, at this point, they had already successfully gotten the other vampires and werewolves into the show. The idea had initially been met with some resistance; Vladislav revealed he had a personal vendetta against pirates (Anton reminded himself to ask about that history at a later time), and Clifton only exclusively watched shows about crime, with lots of gore and violence to boot. (“But pirates are the ultimate crime-committers!” Anton had told him, which was apparently all he needed to trick Clif into it).

But by the end of episode one, every single one of them was invested. From there, they organized regular watch parties, and as they watched, Anton would think warmly of how their own mismatched group - the Te Aro pack and Wellington vampires, absolute misfits, so wildly chaotic and different from each other, and yet still able to become as close and loving as family over the years - were sort of like their own Revenge crew.

Oh, god, Anton thinks now, suddenly snapped back to the present. “Fuck,” he says aloud. “The others are gonna be devastated about this.”

Viago’s shoulders droop and he nods sadly. “They will be very upset. I am afraid Vladislav may go on quite a rampage once he hears of this.”

“Can’t believe how much he loves the show,” Anton can't help but chuckle fondly. “Even despite his messy past with Kristoffer Trondson.”

“Yes,” a small smile plays at Viago's lips. “I am proud of him for getting over his deep, intense hatred for pirates.”

The disappointment quickly returns, a creeping grey cloud of hopelessness and dread filling the room as the reality starts to sink in.

“Fuck. This sucks, love,” Anton exhales, suddenly feeling tears pricking the corners of his own eyes. “This really sucks.” Viago says nothing, only pulls him back into a crushing embrace, and they stay like that for a while.

The next day, Anton's sadness morphs into rage.

“Apparently the CEO at the top-top is some soulless corporate arshole,” Anton growls later that night, the harsh glare of the computer screen causing his eyes to strain.

He had barely been able to get through work today, his mind so distraught by the news of cancellation that he had to take himself aside and snap his brain out of it. Now, he's furiously sipping at his flat white while Viago hands him his blue-light blocking glasses. “He's a known homophobe, apparently, which - Christ, isn’t surprising at all, is it - and determined to burn the whole company to the ground! He’s gotten rid of everything of substance, Vi, just so he can get more money out of it. Absolute shithead of a man!"

Viago makes a displeased sound. "He deserves nothing but curses," he rumbles, but then his tone shifts into one of hopelessness. "So what it is we can do now? I am not ready to say goodbye to our pirates, Anton."

“I know, babe. I know how much they mean to you,” he sighs. “How much they mean to us. I mean... fuck, we still need to see Ed and Stede get married! And the rest of the crew needs to get back at Ricky, and kill the English, and just... ah. What a numpty fucking decision this was, not to renew."

They spend the rest of the evening away from the computer, because everything Anton sees about the news is making his blood boil, and he needs to keep that shit in check - he rarely wolfs out at random anymore, but this one seems to be getting to him. They go for a lovely walk to the waterfront, and try to distract each other as best as possible, and settle in for bed in the wee hours of the morning.

It's not until Viago finds Anton, just a few hours later, sniffling on the couch with his phone out in front of him, that Anton realizes how deeply the hurt is settling into him.

“My love,” Viago joins him on the sofa, blinking a bit blearily. “What is it you are crying about?”

"Sorry, 'm sorry, babe," Anton wipes at his face, "I didn't mean to wake you, I just - couldn't stop thinking about it, and now I'm reading someone's post about how the show saved their life - helped them realize who they were, that they didn’t have to hide anymore, and it just - just made me…”

But he isn’t able to finish the sentence. Because Viago knows. They know each other so deeply, now, that they don't always have to speak out loud for the other to understand. Viago just presses him close, wrapping his limbs around Anton’s and slotting them together the way they’ve done so many times before. A perfect fit.

“I think that perhaps we should stay off the interwebs for right now, liebling,” Viago whispers gently, stroking his hair. “Because it is making us too sad.”

“Yeah,” and it comes out a bit choked, “Yeah. Think you’re right. Think we need to get our minds off this for a bit.”

A few days later, Anton gets a ping on his phone. A text from Stu.

Have you seen this? followed by a link.

Anton is confused at first, but then he clicks on the link, and his eyes go wide.

Hours later, he hears the front door click open; Viago's back from his visit with the vampires, and starts talking to Anton about some Vampire Council business, and normally Anton loves to hear about the wildly dramatic politics of the supernatural world but today, he just yells out at Viago to join him in the kitchen.

"Got something to show you!" Anton tells him, leaning over the island with his laptop open.

“What is it?” Viago asks curiously, shrugging off his white cape.

“Right, okay, so - I know we said we’d take a break from the internet, but look,” and once the vampire is standing next to him, he points to the screen.

He shows him the tab with the official petition, first. The link that Stu sent him. Renew as a Crew, it reads, followed by a short blurb. A petition that already has tens of thousands of signatures and counting.

Then, he cycles through to Twitter, slowly going through the newsfeed where they see multiple articles from major news outlets condemning the cancellation decision, and numerous trending hashtags about saving the show; countless initiatives and analyses from fans, advice on what the best course of action is to get the show back; letter-writing campaigns and posts tagging other networks to consider picking up the series, celebrities voicing their support, an endless amount of fanart and fanfiction, screenshots and GIFs and videos, posts from people celebrating the friends and community they've made through the show — “Look babe,” he feels his own eyes crinkling at the edges. He rests a hand on the small of Viago’s back as the vampire leans over him. “They’re not going down without a fight.”

Viago examines the screen, taking over the mouse and scrolling for a while. Finally, he looks back to Anton with a sparkle in those big, beautiful brown eyes, and a genuine smile that lights up his entire face.

“Then neither will we.”

Anton smiles back at him, and then makes a show of cracking his knuckles.

The ideas are already circulating in his head; he's already sent the petition to their immediate social circle, and considers sending it to the folks at work. He and Viago can start writing letters to the network, and send as many emails as possible - Stu could help with that tons, too, what with his IT background - Anton could even get in touch with the few film industry friends he has, see if they have any insider knowledge or advice. Maybe their little Wellington community could even start up a sub-initiative of their own.

“Let’s go get our damned men back.”

SIGN THE PETITION HERE! And follow Renew as a Crew on Twitter for more updates. Love you all! We can do this!!

#renew as a crew #this fic just flowed out of me because I love the show so much #I wouldn't have discovered vianton without it #our flag means death #viago x anton #flash fic friday #this is very meta and weird I know #but I couldn't help it!#these two are just as upset as we are #and they want to #save OFMD #vianton #wwdits #viago von dorna schmarten scheden heimburg #anton the werewolf #what we do in the shadows

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