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thewriterg · 5 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.1

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; new recruits, questions, and a bag of tricks

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n; my toxic trait is starting a new series before finishing my other ones 😊 | chasin chaos masterlist

“Sergeant Mactavish, Werewolf.” The brunette held his hand out clawed fingers reaching about for the lieutenant who barely spared it a glance before looking back towards his sergeant and captain who smirked or started back at him smugly your presence lacking completely which was uncommon even if you weren’t meeting the eye he could feel your presence today it was gone but he temporarily stopped himself from dawning on it while words spewed from his lips

“Where’d you find this guy?” The gruff voice drizzled over the sassy reply made Gaz bight back a chuckle

“At the end of a rainbow” The harpy replied smartly his arms crossed over his chest feathers lying delicately over the surface of his forearms slightly lighter than the ones on his back where his wings sat it’s trail coming curtly to an end when it reached his the front of his wrist that damned fitted cap resting around his head in its common home ground talons tapping one of the many quills the sound almost sounding if he were thunking a table having his feathers harden on command just for the sake of it a quirk you could say

“Worth his weight in gold mind you” Price offered eyes not looking up from some type of notes he were reading over thick pear and moss mixed green colored horns sitting adorned on his well kept hair curling slightly forward and up Ghost could tell he was wearing an older shirt since there were two holes cut out instead of one for his stray wing that still sat strong spar bones matching the color of his horns and furless tail while the mainsail resembled a more dirty rag cream color

“They said it not me” Soap grinned mock waving off the compliment quirking the damned thick bushy brow of his the only one with a slit slicing right through the point of the arch while the hulking man sighed heavily dragging a hand over his covered face balaclava with a simple print of his actual hard mask a skull

“Fuckin’ hell… you follow orders?” The muffled voice was not a mere obstacle for the hybrid to hear the slight pointed ears on the side of his face doing their job well to listen

“I well trained if that’s what you’re asking. Sit, stay, paw, jump, roll over, I know ‘em all.” The brunette looked off mocking a ponderous expression counting off on his fingers the canines in his mouth slightly showing even though they were retracted

“Real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” The instinct in the sergeant perked up as you suddenly trailed beside ghost surprised that he hadn’t been able to pick up your presence or at least your scent quicker like he had with Ghost especially since they were so… different not having a face to match with your cooled voice since it seemed you also favored a balaclava yours simply plain black yet he didn’t mind just gave him two sheets to play at once…

Raking eyes over your figure the man determined you were a looker for sure yet he didn’t miss how the other silently agreed

“My apologies miss, I dinae get your name” Soap stated a now gentle smile resting on his face that you seemingly ignored accent seeping through a little more and as more time went on the more he could smell the authority coming from you and Ghost it was a little less than Price yet more than Gaz and the other recruits around base

“Depends who you ask. What’s the role you’ve had in your pack?” You questioned eyes low that he could see through the gap in your mask where your sight shone through staring him down almost as if you could see right through his soul yet he kept his quirky grin Mohawk stopping just below the base of his neck a small piece of stray hair lying against his forehead thick fluffy tail perking up slightly swaying against the back of his thighs cargo pants dipping in the back just below his tail

“I’ve been in a few packs could be an alpha, beta, omega if you wanted me to… but I seen you have your roles sorted. I’ve got no problem bein’ ah pup miss” You roll your eyes at that while the brunette winks you swiftly trail away dragging Ghost away with you picking up Price on the way while both men let you drag them along their hulking figure’s towering over your back boots slightly thumping against the floor before your figures disappear within the halls he turns to the crow who’s fiddling with the screen of his phone

“You ever feel left out of somethin’?” Soap questions and Gaz suddenly stands a small smirk on his face as he rakes his eyes over the wolf before shaking his head

“There’s enough for everyone to get their fill, you’ll be next soon enough” Without an explanation the sergeant was already trailing away opposite of where you had gone leaving him alone

But never for too long

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s rude to stare sergeant” Ghost grunted gruffly after jamming his janky locker shut barely giving Soap enough time to look at his shadows slipping from under his glove some looking like it was traveling farther up almost resembling veins while the rest began to make a small cloud on his wrist until he shoved his sleeve over the sight unapologetic about the whole thing barely looking over his shoulder to acknowledge the wolf as he stood behind him

“Just tryin’ ta figure you out, Lt.” He grins tail becoming livelier as it perks up behind his back before it reluctantly lowers still up and lively

“I’m well traveled, seen a lot of things, met a lot of people. Never smelt anythin’ like you… or Flatline for that matter” A slightly clawed finger rests curled on his chin tail gently flapping up and down it had been a little over a week since he was recruited it didn’t take long for him to find out your name or call sign that might have well been your name since no one seemed to know it just by the brief description of eerie, bold eyes, and a mask to cover you face, he got the answer of either Ghost or Flatline

“Hell of a compliment soldier” The blonde resorts almost sarcastically finally looking over his broad shoulder to lock eyes with the brunette and he waves him off finally stepping closer to the skull mask wearing man deciding by his side was the best place to stand and if he noted the smoke trying to spill from his pockets where he had his hands shoved deeply he didn’t say anything about it

“Och, you know I dinnae mean it that way. Can’t blame me for bein’ interested, I never packed with a wraith hybrid before… or a phoenix thought they were bedtime stor-”

“Not hybrids” Ghost cuts off the scott before he can dig any deeper and he furrowed his eyebrows questioning if he had heard right if his ears were failing him or not with a small ‘what’ spilled from his lips

“We’re not hybrids.”

“No shit? What the hell is tha’ like?” Swiftly Simon was in front of him eyes bold yet precise slicing right through him while Johnny’s gaze slightly widened at the quick movement his boots not even so much a squeaking against the ground a bit of the air currents flowing against Soaps slight shorter form

“You ever shut up Mactavish?” He somewhat seethed and the wolf was back to sly grin in less than minute, the grin that showed his canines in the full well kept facial hair adorning his structure even more, the grin the wraith wanted to wipe of his fucking face to be exact.

“Only when people make me.” Soap implied looking up slightly to address his superior with a voice that would make other feverish or peely in his terms that damned drunken grin still on his lips while Ghost practically stared him down eyes slightly squinted thoughts brewing behind those sharp, precise eyes of his that the Scott couldn’t wait to hear of tail swaying behind him with a bit more speed than before but of course his Lt. was a tease and put all his weight on one foot to turn walking out of the locker room without so much a grunt but he liked the chase

And so did superiors

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s an in and out mission that I’m sure you could do on your own, however I don’t need higher ups on my ass about favoritism. You’ll grab a few normals and head Midwest in the states to Chicago. One out of three missiles resigns with one of the biggest weapons busts in America that’s supposedly on its way over to Russia package delivery for a friend of ours… Makarov.” The air in the room shifted at the name drop of a once friend fallen foe even though You and Prices shoulders were up at the mere mention of Russia itsself you had a love hate relationship with meeting room as you got passed a file over things you truly didn’t need to go over things that a rookie could even fill in the blanks for

“This will either be the easiest sail of your life or your standing on the line of death, you all know your first priority even though I know you don’t want to hear it. Push come to shove the normals go first.” The older short cut haired woman looked at You, Price, and Ghost especially Soap noticed it confused him at first the wraith and phoenix at least, two lieutenants in such a small base or at least a small base that wasn’t Air Force but it made sense to him shortly after when he peeked in on occasional training sessions thought out a week You and Ghost switched groups between normals and weaker hybrids both favoring one group more than the other deep down and then at the end of the week bring them together to spar

“Wheels up at 04:00 tomorrow I’m sure you’ll have your picks by then.” Laswell sighed looking around the table for any objections your sitting between Soap and Gaz while Price and Ghost are sitting on the opposite side of the rounded table one of your legs are crossed under your form while the other is propped up you have your arms wrapped around it and your covered chin is lying on your knee and without another word she grabbed her laptop and exited room something about a ball and chain to her desk

The wolf and harpy are first to get up from their seats and the winged hybrid doesn’t go before gently brushing his fingers against your arm migrating towards the exit even though he’s stopped shortly by a shit eating grin and swaying tail conversation quickly taking place between the two

“So, what do you think?” Price hums both him and Simon approaching your seat as you began to stand rolling your shoulders eyes low beneath your mask it was still early in the day only 13:27 you had a training group normals at 14:15 sharp anyone who was a minute late got to run laps around base even if they weren’t hybrids or the ‘superior’ race in the field you couldn’t determine if you were fighting a hybrid or a normal and if you babied them because they were weaker than a super they wouldn’t have a fighting chance against one.

“He asks a lot of questions” Ghost responds curtly while the older man takes no offense to it producing a chuckle from the back of his throat taking out a cigar from his breast pocket in his vest holding out the thick brown lump filled with nicotine out to the blonde who responded by taking out a silver lighter snapping the cover back quickly as it produced a flame its front covered by an ace card with its main attraction being a skull the drug lights aflame a small hissing sound coming from it when the salt and pepper haired hybrid took a drag

“Comes with the package. Wolves don’t like uncertainty in the pack dynamic.”

“He knew you and Gaz before he transferred, didn’t he?” You spoke up squinting your eyes at your captain eyelashes mere meters away from kissing your cheek standing the only way he could get a read on you and Simon he usually says ‘those eyes can tell you everything and nothing all at once, just gotta watch em.’

“Yes, but you’re both hell of a new variable” Price admits before smugly nudging your shoulders with his strong single wing while Ghost crossed his arms over his chest you roll your eyes stepping away from the pair

“Save your verdicts until you see him in action, he’s a vision in the field.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hey… how yall doing 😅

I haven’t posted since October I missed you writers!

Ermm I’m a year older —Nov 8th— happy belated birthday to me

And that’s about it 😭

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cyberwhumper · 3 months

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Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.

Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.

With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.

Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.

He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.

Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.

At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.

What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?

The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.

The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.

I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.

[OC INDEX]

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno12 #Rescue #oc #art #whump #bruises #whump art #original character #pet whumpee #pet whump #original story #whumpblr #whumpee #tokimeki art #caretaker #bridal carry #Horus #Imran

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nikosama13 · 2 months

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"Wanna play a game?" (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x reader)

Description: One shots with the monster trio. In each fic you play a "game" with one the boys from the monster trio. Who knows..? Something spicy might happen..

Side Notes: Hellooo loves! Please enjoy these oneshots with the monster trio. <3 ..⚆ _ ⚆ (Most likely spelling mistakes + my requests should be open.) Ps: The Zoro oneshot is my absolute fav.

Consider following for more..?

~~~

Luffy:

It was a casual and rather peaceful day on the Thousand Sunny. The Straw Hats, including you, had just left a port from a short supply run… already off to find another adventure.

However, it was a rare occasion for it to be this peaceful.. Zoro was napping, Sanji was cooking, Nami drawing her maps, Robin was reading her new books, Franky fixing the ship with Ussop’s help, and Chopper making his medicine.

That just left you and Luffy..

You were just resting on the deck with a chair when you heard one of the Sunny's doors open. To your surprise it was Luffy.

“Ughh.. im hungry and bored and sleepy..” Luffy said, walking sloppy.

Well he was, until he saw you.

“Oh hey y/n!” His eyes and posture snapped into place.

“Hello Luffy..” you raised your glasses and rested them on your head.

“Wanna play a game?” Luffy’s voice also sounded like it got a little happier and excited.

“Sure I guess..” you gave him a smile anyone would fall for.

His gaze was stuck on you. He just blinked a few times before a slight burning sensation on his face struck him.

“U-uhm.. So how about like.. two truths one lie..?

It shocked you that Luffy actually knew that the game existed and let alone how to play it.

“Sure” you gave him a puzzled look.

“Me, Ussop, and Chopper played it once!” Luffy smiled.

Oh, well that explains how he knew.. Ussop always made up fun games for them to pass the time on the ship.

“Ok I’ll go first!” Luffy plopped down next to you on the floor, a look of confidence and blush showed on his face.

“So.. one is I hate meat, two is I want Sanji to cook, and three is I like y/n..”

“W-wait what!?” your eyes were practically popping out of your skull.

“Uhm..” he smiled and then looked down.

He covered this face with this hat slightly and muttered something out..

“Yeah, I like you.. So?” he continued looking down.

“I do too..” you looked away.

Then he looked up immediately after you said those words. His eyes sparkled brightly.

“Really!? You do!?” then he leaned his head on your thigh.

“Yeah..”

You both were a blushing mess but eventually as the days went by you shared a passionate kiss on the deck in front of Nami which made her choke and spit out her water.

It was safe to say you belonged together. ~(˘▾˘~)

~~~ Zoro:

For Zoro it was like any other day on the Thousand Sunny, minus the fighting parts.. Today you decided to get your moss head and play a game. Now what game exactly you ask?

Let’s backtrack really quickly..

You, Nami, and Robin were speaking about Zoro, you simply didn’t know how to get closer to him. It didn't help that he was reserved and always grumpy, as you like to call it. So Robin, being the brightest in the group of girls suggested to you that you should ask or more so “bribe” the moss head into playing a memory game with you. It sounded harmless but it would definitely have the moss head interacting with you. So you thanked Robin and ran off to put this idea to the test.

Eventually, you found Zoro dozing off into a nap. However you’d have to get to him before he slept because waking up a grumpy man isn’t a pretty sight.

“Hey Zoro! Wanna play a game with me?” you smiled and sat down in front of him on the deck of the Sunny.

“Huh..? No, why would I..? That’s for kids like Sanji and I want to rest.”

He looked back down and was about to doze off again.

This is exactly what Robin, you, and Nami anticipated so it was time for plan-b to be put into action.

“Oi, moss head I’ll give you buckets of booze, but only if you play.” You said smiling, sure of your plan bound to work.

Then his eyes popped open immediately.

“What’s the game..?” Zoro’s face slightly changed to a smile.

“It’s a simple memory game.. k?” you prepared the rules in your mind.

“Fine, get this over with… or..”

You could have sworn he muttered “..or…”, but after all it wasn’t your place to ask him what he had said when you randomly intruded on the man’s peaceful napping session.

“Ok so I'm gonna make up three hand signals in a random order and I'll add to it each time, your job is to copy me. Plus if you fail once you lose and we switch places.”

His mind took a second or two to process all of that info but it seemed like he understood, hopefully..

“Alright..” he looked up at you, now he was giving you his undivided attention.

Robin's plan was working.

After a couple of rounds he eventually failed and snickered at you. Now it was his turn to make up the hand signals..

“Watch me, I'll win!” you smiled confidently.

“Yeah, yeah totally.” The look he gave you was mischievous, like he was planning something you couldn’t predict.

And so he did..

His first movement was to grab your collar and pull you in closer, his second was to lift your chin and lean in on your soft lips, and by movement three..? Well let’s just say you and him were a blushing mess. He assumed that you knew what movement three was already supposed to be..

“Repeat that.” He smiled at you with a deep look.

“Fine I wi-” he cut you off..

“And the third movement too. Unless you don't wanna win..”

“Deal, watch me!”

You repeated the steps of grabbing his collar and lifting his chin. You pulled him in closer and looked up at him unsure about this whole situation.

“Do it” he said while looking at you.

You slowly brought him in closer and kissed him. The kiss lasted for a while until you eventually broke apart.

You were a blushing mess, as for Zoro?

“So where’s my booze at..?” (I was literally screaming when I read this over, this is my fav)

~~~

Sanji:

Sanji, as being chef of the Straw Hats was usually always in the Thousands Sunny’s kitchen, either he’d be taking orders from Luffy to cook something tasty like meat or be making special drinks for the lady’s around him.

However, today was different, he decided to finally take a break that he needed. He was walking around and wandered into the Sunny's library. There he found you, studying or reading. Either way he found it cute. When you noticed him and smiled, his heart fluttered.

So as bold as Sanji is, he sat in the seat right in front of you, staring you down intently.

“Whatcha reading there y/n?” he gazed at your book.

“Oh.. nothing much, Robin told me if I had any free time to read it because it was really good. I believe it’s alright.. I’m not too crazy over books.”

He loved the sounds of your voice. The way you talked and looked at him while you glanced at your book at the same time. It was all too much and too perfect for him.

And then all of sudden his day dreaming was abruptly ended by a wave. This wave shook the library and luckily only some books fell out of their place.

“Awh man..” you looked disappointed.

“Sanji, if it isn’t too much to ask, could you help me clean this up..? ..I think Robin would really appreciate it.” you smiled softly.

He took no time to accept your offer and helped you clean up.

As you two were busy cleaning and placing all the books back into their spots, Sanji came around a weird box named “Twister”.

“Hey y/n, look at this.” he faced you with the box in his hands.

“Oh, that’s interesting.. That’s a fun game, I wonder what it’s doing in the library though..” you seemed puzzled.

Sanji adored the face you made when you were confused. Then a great idea popped into his mind.

“Would you wanna play?” he smirked at you.

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to, do you know how to play though?”

“Not really.. But I wouldn’t mind you teaching me~” He chuckled.

After a long 15 mins of reading the rules over to Sanji, he finally grasped the main idea of the game. This was really his kind of game.

“Ahh.. I see, let's start then~!” He began setting out the mat on the wooden floor of the Sunny.

Then you both began to play and spin the spinner, further and further into the game your limbs both got tangled and tangled.

“Right leg on blue, left arm on red…”

Sanji was trying with all this might to not look up at you with your ‘interesting’ position balancing over top of him. Eventually your muscles both gave out at the same time and you landed on top of Sanji.

Since Sanji is the Sanji we all know and love he automatically nose bled and proceeded to pass out.

With Chopper’s help he was just fine, but those newly discovered feelings he had only for you weren't.

~~~ Finish line here!

Comment your fav Oneshot! <3

Consider following..?

(This is probably one of my fav posts of all time. ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ)

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 3 days

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To Love You (Platonic Yandere! Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 0: The Body I Stole

(CW: death, femme bodied gender neutral reader, child abuse) very short prologue for a story idea I had

There was a muffled sound of a woman struggling quietly as she chased the terrified gasps of a child running for his life. A small boy, maybe five years old, covered in scrapes and bruises new and old, was fleeing his mother as she limped after him.

Avery had caused the accident.

Her eyes were cold and sharp, glaring at the road ahead of her as they drove down the curvey mountain. It wasn't his fault, the scene at the birthday party, but his mother didn't believe it. She never did. The fear of being "disciplined" was something Avery never really shook, in fact, it was something he learned to expect..

He didn't know why he did it. But a surge of adrenaline electrocuted his fingertips, and launched his little arms towards her and the steering wheel. The family car swerved towards the trees, rolling twice before smashing into a tree.

The mother was practically dragging her shattered ankle through the weeds as she tried to catch her kid.

"AVERY! COME BACK HERE RIGHT! NOW!" Her voice tore through the woods. The venomous words that promised pain was heard by more than just Avery, however.

They didn't know what the situation was, nor did they care.. All (Reader) could think about was their hunger.

A twig snapping made the woman stop, believing she had found her child. The scowl on her beautiful features deepened, making the woman look more like a monster than the creature who had just woken up.

"Avery. If you come out right now I won't be mad. I promise."

Even to a monster that had been sleeping for the past hundred or so years, her lies were obvious. (Reader) listened to the little one covering his mouth a few feet away, and guessed that he was the Avery this woman was speaking to. But unfortunately for her, Avery was hiding in the opposite direction.

She couldn't even fake a smile as she hobbled over towards where the monster hid, stretching out their creaky joints.

As she passed the thick trees to where she heard the snapping branches, a small look of hateful triumph was shattered as she found something else standing where she assumed her son would be. The eight foot tall creature with grey skin smiled down at the human. Their body smelled of dirt and moss, but looked like a mummified corpse stretched out. Black hair fell around their shoulders, almost covering their six, blood red eyes, focusing on the trembling prey before them.

Her beautifully painted lips weren't given a chance to scream before the creature opened it's jagged toothed maw, and bit her pretty little head in half.

(Reader's) strong jaw crushed the woman's skull easily, splashing her soft innards down their throat and across their naked chest. It had been so long since they ate that they forgot to take the basic feeding steps.

What was her height? Her hair color? Her chest size? They forgot to care. It wasn't until the only thing left of her body was her left leg.

"Ah.. I made a mistake." (Reader) mumbled to themselves as they tried to recall what their meal's appearance was. If they hadn't been starving, they would have morphed into their new persona before eating them.

They did their best in replicating the woman.

Their spine snapped loudly as they shrunk, hair and skin rapidly changing in color and texture, until they were the woman as they somewhat recalled her to be. 'I'll just find a better suit later..'

Not even the woman's clothes remained in the bloody aftermath. (Reader) sighed as they shook her leg. 'My starvation made me sloppy.' They finished off the last leg of their meal, before turning and surprising themselves with the appearance of a small boy with black hair watching them. (Reader's) new eyes widened, having been so focused on their food that they hadn't noticed him sneaking up on them.

As they contemplated killing and taking the young boy's form, he surprised them again, rushing forward suddenly and wrapping his thin arms around (Reader's) naked flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but I had an idea for a multiple chapter story, with a clingy adoptive son ❤️ needed to get the OG mother out of the way before the story, because even though this is what I want to happen in the story, it doesn't fit the way I want the first chapter to start haha

#yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere family #prologue #monster reader #gn reader #afab reader #kinda not really #cw blood #cw death

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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Hey 🫵🫶🏻! I love your John Price fics A LOT and I wanted to thank you for that<3 I wanted your opinion! How do you like Price's new skin?!

I'm just thinking about that!!! On a camouflage/infiltration mission and he fucks reader in this outfit!

Me right now looking at this photo:

Cold Shoulder

I wasn't sure how this one was gonna go, but I hope this is close to what you imagined! <3 <3 love this outfit. TW: fem reader, dub con?

"There you are," he growled, lowering his gun when he realized it was you.

You were holed up in a small alcove of a cave on the west side of the mountain. It was snowing, and you were doing your best to keep warm, but it was getting more difficult by the minute. And now, you had your angry captain yelling at you.

"You could've been killed, Sparrow. What the fuck were you thinking? This is a full klick away from the RV."

He closed in on you. Price was still fully geared up, and his snow hood shaded his eyes, making them all the more menacing. He was wearing his shining skull mask, but the sharp teeth below it were scarier than the gleaming bones.

Price grabbed you by the arms and pulled you up to face him,

"Answer me, soldier."

His eyes searched yours, looking for the truth. You swallowed your spit, thick and suffocating, trying to comply,

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know? You don't know how many men I fuckin' killed to get up here to find you. I thought..." His anger cracked like glass, sudden and violent, "I thought I lost you."

"What do you care... sir?"

The words tumbled out of you before you could catch them. It was hard to call him by his title when you were basically calling him out. But, you managed to tack it on to the end.

The problem was, you hadn't wanted to be saved by your captain. You had wanted to handle your ex-fil on your own. After all, it was he who had told you that you two should stop what you were doing. All the sneaking around and finding comfort in each other in the middle of the night. He had said it needed to stop. So, why was he so concerned about you now? You seethed,

"I could've gotten out of here on my own if you hadn't disconnected my sat-tab! I was closing in on their camp. Soap and his explosion blew my cover and I --"

"That explosion saved your bloody life, little bird. You jeopardized the mission, and you're not using your head. I know you're upset with me, but..."

"Upset? You told me you loved me, John!"

A cold, snowy silence stretched out between you. Even though he was so close to you, you could barely hear his heavy breaths. You could smell him. He was spice and tobacco and oak moss. His sweat and soap tangled with all of his other scents, reminding you of all of the times you had breathed him in.

Suddenly, striking like a viper, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you toward his face. You thought he would kiss you, but he didn't. He held you just close enough and said,

"Turn around, Corporal."

"What?" You were confused, but you were at his mercy.

Price turned you around himself, shoving you down on all fours in the stony floor of the cave. The rocks were wet beneath your hands. You heard the zipper of his pants, and you turned to look at him, shocked. He snarled, right in your ear, as he leaned over you,

"Won't listen. Gonna have to make you behave."

He started to pull down your pants, dragging them over your thick ass cheeks, revealing your pussy to him. He took off his glove with his teeth and began to play in you, telling you,

"Can't have you riskin' your life like that, little bird. I do love you. Can't seem to fuckin' help it. Tried to stay away. Can't. I can't."

Then, you felt it. His cock was at your warm entrance, pressing into you in that familiar way but at an unfamiliar pace.

Usually, he treated you like his soft little princess despite the fact that you were a seasoned soldier. He would eat you for hours, sometimes, making you dripping and pliant enough to take his heavy girth.

But, not now. Now, he was on a mission to make you remember how precious you really were. You needed to learn, and he was ready to teach you.

You screamed as he pressed your walls apart. It wasn't pain, but it was intense. He went slowly, but he didn't relent. As he began to pump himself in and out of your body, he lay his hand down hard across your ass, smacking you and letting the skin burn beneath his palm,

"Tha's it, birdie. Sing for me. Loud. Let me hear you."

Price's huge rod was fucking you so deep at this angle, and he wanted more. So, he pushed your shoulders down, forcing your chest into the snow. Your cheek hurt from the ice.

"So wet for me. Almost like you wanted me to find you," he teased.

What could you tell him? That he was right?

All you did to respond was pulse around him, gripping him hard inside of your body, making him stutter in his rhythm.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your ponytail in his hand, arching your back up towards him, barking commands at you,

"Say you're sorry! Tell me you're sorry for riskin' your fuckin' life up here on this goddamn mountain. Say it!"

"I'm sorry..." You managed.

"Sorry, what?" He bit down hard on your neck, marking you with his teeth.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Good girl. See? You're so good. So good for me. Mmmf. Fuck!"

He pounded into you mercilessly, and his other hand began to play with your clit, smearing your wet juices all over your lower lips and skin, dragging it up over your mons and onto your belly.

"Fuck, you're so wet, Sparrow. I'm gonna come in you."

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck!"

You felt his hot come pool in your body, radiating through your skin, wet on wet on wet. Your ass cheeks stung, your body ached, and yet, you were so satisfied. You'd never seen Price get so worked up, but you wanted more. He had created a monster.

He fastened his pants and sat with you in his lap, breathing heavy in the darkness of his hood.

"Sparrow, I love you. I can't lose you. I won't. Don't do that to me."

"I love you, too, John."

You nuzzled against his neck, smelling his familiar scent, waiting for the next time you could misbehave.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #call of duty #x female reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x female reader #captain johnathan price #captain john price smut

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 23rd

Deepthroating & Facesitting, Mary Goore x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Deepthroating; skull fucking; face sitting; public; exhibitionism; sex in a cemetery; cunnilingus; fingering; fellatio; vaginal sex; piv; unprotected sex; fear play; biting; elements of dubcon but not really dubcon; rough sex; praise kink; degradation kink (you know the drill by now); hair pulling; watersports;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

In the quiet, serene, and solemn embrace of the mist-laden morning, you walked hand in hand with Mary and ventured into the ancient, moss-covered graveyard - a morning tradition that spun the entire length of October. The misty air shrouded the weathered, weather-beaten tombstones, creating an eerie, mystical atmosphere. Tall, gnarled trees with their twisted, skeletal branches cast long, haunting shadows on the hallowed ground below. Your steps echo softly on the cobblestone path, leading you deeper into the melancholic, hauntingly beautiful cemetery.

It was always silent this early in the morning, even the birds were still asleep as your footsteps tracked through the frost-bitten grass and chilly gravel beneath you. Every snap of a twig in the distance had your heart pounding with worry and Mary’s throat to come alive with a chuckle. This was the perfect scene for a horror movie: two lovers exploring a place they shouldn’t be getting picked off individually by a mysterious stranger using the mist as a cloak. Mary would be the first to go; and you’d find him battered and bruised but alive, only to watch him suffer and perish at the hands of a monster.

A crypt sat in one of the corners of the cemetery, proud yet ominous with its intimidating Gothic arched door and stone walls. The glass windows were dirty with decades - if not centuries - of dirt, and the heavy, mahogany door, weather-damaged and rotting, was locked tightly shut by a rusted chain and lock. The crypt once belonged to the town’s founding father, the wealthiest family in the cemetery. For as long as you’d known him, Mary had been desperate to get inside to piss on the richest coffin around but he’d always been unsuccessful. Today, though, he wanted to try again.

You watched him rattle the door, hands wrapped firmly around the rusted handles and tug on it, trying to shift it even a little but to no avail. “I’m gonna go check the back,” he announced, “wait right here.”

“Mary, can’t we just carry on and enjoy the place while we still have it?”

“Babe, if we can get in there, just think of what I could do to you.” He winked and placed a kiss to your forehead. “Stay here. I’ll come back and get you.”

You don’t know why you did as he asked you to. You weren’t scared per se, the silence of the cemetery filled you with nothing but peace and you felt safe in the knowledge that most of the surrounding residents were still tucked up in bed as the sun was beginning to rise. But you were still exceptionally cautious, knowing that it was all the normal people who were in bed. The crazies were up and wandering as you stood there: the drug addicts, the dunkards, the criminals who operated under the shadow of the night were also out and about, making their way home after a night of who-knows-what. Ghosts didn’t scare you. The dead didn’t make you afraid - but the living did.

You tried to peak into the crypt, wiping some of the dirt with your index finger but realising it was pointless when you saw the layer that had swiped off onto your hand. You weren’t even sure what you were trying to see, perhaps you were just looking for something to do. But your concentration turned out to be a detriment to you, and the reason why what happened next occurred.

All you heard were two heavy footsteps thumping quickly on the dead leaves surrounding the crypt before hands came and gripped your body, the force of it causing you to drop your bag to the floor. A weight pushed you further into the stone walls and pinning you against them, one of those hands gripped onto your hip, the other came up to your mouth to silence you. A whimper escaped you, muffled by the cold hand of the person behind you - a whimper of fear, certainly, but there was an element of arousal in it too.

“You looked so delicious standing there alone and scared.” Mary’s voice sounded in your ear, so low it was almost a growl. “You looked so fuckin’ vulnerable. Easy pickings.” He pressed his body further into yours and you could feel his cock, rock solid but restrained in his jeans. “I can’t wait until we get home, baby girl. I’m taking you now whether you like it or not.”

His hand that was on your hip began groping whatever body part it could find. At first, he grasped hold of your ass cheek and firmly held it, but then he moved higher and higher until he was groping your breast, rough with his touches and squeezing you as he pleased. His mouth, now silent, moved closer to your ear and trapped the sensitive appendage between his teeth, nibbling and biting a little harder than usual. He released your mouth from his hand knowing that you wouldn’t let out an unwanted scream, and used that hand to fiddle with your clothes, pulling your skirt up to give him access to your panties. “Thank fuck you’re wearing a skirt today, baby.” He commented as he rutted himself into you, seeking desperate pleasure from your body.

Your panties were quite literally ripped off your hips - the sound of the fabric tearing filling up the surrounding cemetery and making you gasp at the force he’d used. Once you were bare for him, he gripped onto your shoulders, turned you round and pushed you to your knees. His hands came to work at his jeans, undoing them and freeing himself from them. “When you need to tap out, what do you do?”

“Tap you three times.”

“Good fucking girl. Now, open up for me.”

You braced yourself for impact, knowing that the mood he was in meant you were in for a rough but exciting ride; and of course you were right. He fed you his cock, inch by inch, ignoring your gag reflex and any uncomfortabilities you may have had and forced his way down your throat, groaning at the sensation of your tight, wet heat enveloping him. His hand flew to your head, fingers tangling in your hair as his mouth opened and he exhaled slowly, the subsequent intake sounding like a hiss. The first few thrusts were merciful, gentle, kind, tentative, enough to get you used to feeling his sizable length stuffed down your windpipe. But after that he became demonic.

His thrusts were nearly violent with how sharply he moved. His hand held your head as still as it possibly could be, trapping you where you knelt and using your face like his own personal fucktoy. It was his hand doing most of the guiding, pulling your head back and forth by your hair. He tipped his head back and let his mouth fall wide open. “Oh, fuck!” He growled. Every time you gagged around him, he chuckled at you. He found it amusing to hear you struggling to take him every time he shoved himself down your throat, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t commit those sounds to his memory and used them when you weren’t around.

He pulled your head off of him completely and let you catch your breath, laughing a little at you gasping for air and refilling your lungs as much as you could before his second onslaught. You also took this opportunity to fill your mouth with as much saliva as you could, knowing that Mary preferred a sloppier feel. He loved it when you got filthy, when your own spit would drip down your face and hang off your chin like a cheesy porno. You took this opportunity to use your hands and jerk him off a little, but eventually he grew tired and slapped your hand away. You took him back in your mouth and readied yourself for round two.

This time, he gathered all your hair into a ponytail and used that to pull you back and forth, slamming himself down your throat despite the gags and groans you made. Your nose repeatedly hit his well-groomed pubic mound, kept nice and neat for this very purpose. “That’s it.” He praised through gritted teeth. “Take it all down your fucking throat. Such a slut. Letting yourself get face-fucked in the middle of a fuckin’ cemetery. Fucking hell. Your throat is incredible. I don’t do this enough. Shit!” He bit his lip and groaned when you looked up at him, tears in your eyes from the exertion. The doe-eyed look you often gave him drove him insane, his own corruption kink coming to the forefront and losing himself in the thought of soiling something so pristine as you. Of course, you were just as filthy as he was, but you certainly didn’t look it.

“What’s this?” He asked, his eyes now fixated on your hands. While he’d been fucking your throat, you decided that it was too much to bear and dipped your hands under the hem of your skirt giving yourself the sweet relief you’d been craving since he pinned you against the walls of the crypt. “The little whore likes being face-fucked in a cemetery?” He tugged you off his cock and you stopped playing with yourself. “No, keep going! Don’t let me stop you slutting yourself out in public. You want my mouth, baby girl?”

You nodded.

He jerked your head back again by your hair. “Ah, ah. Tell me.”

“Yes! I want your mouth!”

“Aw,” he cooed, “desperate little slut. On your back for me.”

He guided you to lie on your back, and lifted your skirt, staring at your cunt that was now glistening from the slick of your arousal. You could feel the wet, morning dew from the grass seeping through into your clothes as you lay there, but that just turned you on even more to know he had you lying on the cold ground so he could take what he wanted from you. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. He stared down his nose at you, a somewhat evil grin on his face. He was about to make you suffer and you were so excited for it.

He moved to your head and lowered himself down so he was hovering above your mouth. “Open wide again, baby.” He told you. When you obeyed, he fed himself into your throat once more, but this time he’d leaned forward and took your cunt into his mouth, too, his cock brutally riding your face and taking his own pleasure from you.

Your hips bucked as much as they could from being pinned down by Mary’s entire weight on top of you as his lips quickly encircled your clit and started sucking as hard as they could. The tip of his tongue moved wildly, working different parts of your clit in different directions while he kept his mouth shut around you. His ministrations were intense and rough as he worked to get you to orgasm as quickly as he could, moving his head in all directions and sucking on your tender bud to keep the onslaught going. He was everywhere all at once - you could feel him everywhere. Mind clouded with nothing but him, scent, sight, taste. even his grunts and groans filled your ears more than the wind rustling the trees in the distance.

He continued in this manner constantly, ruthlessly pushing you ever-closer to the edge. Until his unrelenting motions caused your nails to dig into his bare ass as a warning you were about to cum. And so, reluctantly, he pulled himself out of your throat and continued his ministrations until you were cumming, loudly, around his tongue. Your eyes were screwed tightly shut as you came, teeth digging into your bottom lip to curb some of that volume as you screamed out for him. Your nails continued to grip onto his flesh as the entire world went black for just a brief moment, and eventually, when it was fine for him to do so, he released you from his mouth and climbed off you.

He seemed just as out of breath as you were, but he hadn’t cum yet, and therefore he certainly wasn’t finished with you. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, “ass in the air.”

Your back was hit with a wall of cold air as the damp cloth was exposed to the autumnal morning breeze. You spread yourself out for him, elbows to the ground and ass in the air, ready to receive whatever he would give you next.

He didn’t wait for your cunt to get used to his size; instead, he grabbed your hips and thrust all the way to the end. “Take that fucking cock.”

He started working right away, snapping his hips against yours quickly and hitting your cervix which made you scream every time. “Fuck, Mary!” You yelled.

Mary always felt wonderful inside of you because he was long and slender, stretching you out beautifully. By the time he was finished with you, you were typically a shaking, aching mess on the bed, unable to even think or breathe.

Your ass jiggled more than usual as you arched your back for him once more and moved your hips to meet his thrusts. He let out a string of profanities, each one reminding you of how much of a whore you were to him and how tight your pussy felt around him, how you got tighter every time a branch snapped in the distance or a solitary car drove by. How you got off knowing that someone could catch you getting fucked by your partner in one of the most wildly inappropriate places to ever exist.

He reached forward and grabbed your hair, pulling it once more by the roots to gain leverage and allow himself to bury deep inside of you over and over again.

Your hand reached down to play with your clit once more, fervently rubbing yourself in time with his rough thrusts to try and tip you over the edge.

“Fucking shit, always so tight for me.” He saw your pussy cream accumulating at the base of his cock and let out another growl. You felt so fucking good, and you were getting tighter and tighter by the second. “Baby,” he said, “I know we couldn’t get in there for me to piss on his coffin, but there’s another monument I could.”

You raised your eyebrows, and he didn’t miss the way your hand sped up at the thought. “O-on me?” You asked.

“Can I?”

“Fuck. Mary, do it.”

“Yeah? Move that fucking hand so I can piss on that filthy cunt of yours.”

You did as you were told and shuddered at the feeling of Mary pulling out of you, your hole twitching at the sudden emptiness and screaming for stimulation. You couldn’t see what Mary was doing behind you, but oh fuck did you feel it. It was a slow trickle at first but when the stream built up, and was angled right, it hit your clit perfectly just like the head of your shower did. The constant stream, however short it actually lasted, felt like it went on forever as it continuously hit that perfect spot, making your eyes roll back into your head. It took just a little more time and suddenly you were diving headfirst into another orgasm, the sensitivity of your first and the violent pounding of Mary’s cock beforehand leading you into a powerful second one. Mary’s fingers replaced his piss to finish you off, rubbing roughly to keep you frozen and cumming as hard as possible.

He could barely wait until you’d stopped convulsing, and shoved himself back inside you as soon as he could. “Filthy slut,” he chastised, hands gripping onto your hips as he pushed you flush to the ground and took what he wanted. His left hand was still wet from his piss and your cum, and you could feel it on your skin. “Can’t believe you just came from me pissing on you. What a depraved, cock-hungry little whore - so desperate to cum she’ll let me do anything to her.” Your hands dug into the hallowed soil, gripping tightly to ground you as he got rougher and rougher, slamming against your cervix each time and forcing you to cry out. “I’ll piss in your mouth next time. You want that, hm?”

“Yes! Fucking hell! Mary!” You didn’t care how loud you were, and neither did he.

“Or maybe I’ll piss inside your cunt next time, and punish you if any slips out - oh fuck - c-cumming!”

He let out a deep and gutteral groan as he came inside you, hips stilling to a halt and emptying his balls as deep as he possibly could. All his weight was on you, trapping you between him and the graveyard’s soil. Your own pubic mound resting in the puddle of piss that had formed underneath you both the more he pushed you down and held you still. He thrust tentatively, making sure you took every last drop of him. He let himself fall forward, and kissed your shoulder tenderly as if he hadn’t just beat up your pussy and abused you like a madman.

“Fucking hell that was the hottest thing we’ve ever done.” You said as you both were catching your breaths.

He grunted in agreement, still kissing your clothed shoulder and moving up to nibble and lick at your ear. “We’d better get you in the shower, eh?”

“Check my bag, there should be some tissues in there.”

He pulled out of you, both of you wincing at the loss again, and when he returned, he made sure to gently clean you as best as he could. But he’d make sure he’d clean you up properly when you both took a shower at home.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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nyrandrea · 6 months

Note

Yo! Not sure if you are accepting requests for Astarion x Reader and what not but if you are, here me out; it's known that it is possible for Astarion to be kidnapped by Cazador when you are fighting at the Inn. So what about if this happened and, to try and further break him and just be a total twat, Cazador sets it up that it seems the reader/Tav has come to save Astarion only to reveal that it was all a charade to break him and drag him to the ritual (could be a shape changer of succubus, whatever you like). Astarion is utter broken, THEN the real Tav comes charging in, tearing apart everything in their way to save Astarion. We have utter angst followed by utter fluff!

Ooh I very much liked this prompt as I've never written from Astarion's POV before so I hope it comes across alright!

TW for kidnapping and slight emotional manipulation

Word Count - 2.5k

Enjoy!

xxx

Astarion shifted his shoulders side-to-side while splaying his fingers, both done in attempt to free himself of the rope binding his wrists.

As he was ushered, his heavy breaths were muffled against the cloth that had been tied around his neck. As it obscured most of his vision, he couldn’t see a damn thing, but he knew exactly where his kidnappers—his so-called ‘brother’ and ‘sister’—were taking him.

Back to his old master.

Astarion had tried to fight the spawn – Gods know he did – despite knowing it was futile. His friends had tried to save him, you had tried so, so hard – he remembers the way you desperately crawled to him, weakly calling out his name before he was dragged away.

When fighting was clearly no use, he tried to convince them just to discuss their options, that surely they could figure out a way to work together to defeat Cazador, but it was all for naught. They thought he deserved this, and, in a way, so did he.

The longer they travelled, the more his struggles eased.

Even with the bag over his head, Astarion could tell when they reached the Szarr palace. The air within was thick with the musty scent of centuries past, a haunting aroma that seemed to seep from the very walls themselves.

Dimly flickering torches lined the uneven, moss-covered bricks, casting feeble, wavering shadows that danced with eerie grace. The stones, slick with moisture, whispered secrets to those who dared listen, their ancient whispers a chilling backdrop to the silence. The floor, uneven and cold, was a mosaic of cracked tiles, their patterns lost to centuries of neglect. Puddles of stagnant water collected in the lowest recesses, reflecting the dim torchlight like dark, unblinking eyes.

“I’m... sorry that it had to come to this,” Leon said. His voice was monotone, making his words sound like a cheap, hollow excuse.

“No, you’re not,” Astarion bluntly replied. “Whatever master wants, master gets. Just a shame we all must get slaughtered in the process, hm?”

Silence was his answer.

Astarion flinched as a door creaked open and a familiar stink filled his nostrils – Leon had brought him to the ‘Kennel’, where he had spent tendays being tortured by Cazador’s cruel and sadistic servant Godey – a vile creature that often haunted his nightmares.

The cloth covering Astarion’s head was ripped off and he was forced to gaze at that familiar, hideous skull.

“If it isn’t the nasty little runaway!” Godey all-too-cheerily announced. “Ah, but you always find your way back to Godey, hmm?”

Astarion grimaced.

“If I had my way, I’d saw off your legs - that’d put a stop to your wandering.”

“As pleasant as that sounds, I’m guessing the master said no?” Astarion said with a little smirk; a mask to hide his fear. “After all, I’m sure he needs all of my blood on the inside for the Mass.”

“But he needs you obedient too,” Godey growled. “And I should cut out that tongue of yours for a start.”

The skeleton brushed his fingertips on the hilt of his dagger, as if he was considering it for a moment.

“That means no barking, no biting, no struggling – a well-behaved little doggie.”

“I’ll never do what he tells me again,” Astarion sneered. “I’d rather die.”

“Oh, you’ll do both! You will do whatever he requires, and if you’re delusional enough to think any of your little friends will come and save you, well...”

As if on cue, the doors swung open behind Godey to reveal... you.

Astarion's eyes met yours, and a torrent of emotions surged through him. His lifeless heart almost fluttered as you bypassed Godey and approached him, a mix of apprehension and joy welling up inside.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you rushed towards him.

“Astarion, my love...!” you whispered. “I’ve come to save you; I couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer.”

Astarion extended his arms to embrace you. Your touch felt warm and comforting, and it held him in an embrace that seemed so familiar.

For a moment, he was overcome with joy, believing he had another chance at freedom, that both of you could take down Godey and escape from this wretched place. But as seconds passed, something felt amiss. Your eyes were colder, your words more hollow, and a chilling unease settled in his bones.

“I missed you so much,” you continued, your voice wavering with a hint of deception.

But Astarion noticed the subtle differences in your gestures and expressions, even the way you spoke was... off. He pushed you away and stared into your eyes, searching for the truth.

“Who are you?” He demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and heartbreak.

‘Your’ facade began to crumble. In a flash of darkness, there was a revelation of a true, grotesque form. Its face twisted and contorted into a nightmarish amalgamation of shapes and shadows.

It was a shapeshifter, a creature of dark magic, cunningly disguised as you.

Astarion recoiled, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He realised the cruel trick that had been played on him, his eyes glistening with tears.

“A gift from the master,” Godey said all too smugly. “To remind you that you are not worth saving.”

The shapeshifter, grinning wickedly, vanished into the night, leaving Astarion alone in the darkness, his heart aching with betrayal and sorrow.

“Now,” Godey said, approaching him with a chain. “Be a good little mutt and tie this around your neck, it is time to accept the fate that has been chosen for you.”

The chains felt so heavy in Astarion’s hands that he merely let them slip and pile onto the floor with a heavy clang. He just felt so tired. Of running away, of daring to have hope, of falling in love, only to have it ripped away. Existence was... nothing but a cruel joke.

And Cazador was the one laughing at him.

Godey snarled as he bent to pick the chains up and thrust them back into Astarion’s arms. “Do not disobey! Or do I have to get the knee-splitter out for old time’s sake?”

The vampire wordlessly submitted and allowed himself to be led out of the Kennel and into the corridors of the dungeon.

A heavy, suffocating atmosphere hung in the air, as if the crypt itself held its breath, waiting for something unseen to stir in the shadows. It was a place where the echoes of the past whispered of forgotten sorrows and ancient curses, a realm where the line between the living and the dead blurred into obscurity.

"Astarion...!" a distant voice cried, slicing through the dungeon's oppressive silence. Determined footsteps reverberated against the cold, stone floor, the sound of clanking armour ringing in the eerie stillness.

Godey paused, appearing confused. “What...? Can’t be the shapeshifter again...”

The footsteps edged ever closer, and Godey turned to face these unexpected intruders, forcing Astarion to turn with him.

Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart and... you were rushing down the hallway. As you approached them, the ancient stone walls seemed to tremble in anticipation.

The groups’ menacing sneers faded into incredulous expressions at the scene before them, and an overwhelming shame punched Astarion in the gut at having them see him so... vulnerable. Humiliated.

They reached for their weapons, but your eyes met Astarion’s with a fiery, unyielding gaze. Your face was bloodied, and lips curled as you snarled like a feral animal – a far cry from the innocent but fake show that the shapeshifter had put on only moments before.

“Let him go!” you demand, your grip tightening on your sword, its blade gleaming with an ethereal light.

Godey flinched back, obviously surprised.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, the master needs him,” the skeleton said. “Leave this place and he may grant you enough mercy to let you live.”

“Afraid we can’t do that, bones,” Karlach snarled before turning to you. “Can we please just kill this thing and get our friend out of here?”

“Friend?” Godey scoffed. “This dog doesn’t have friends. Now leave!”

You meet Karlach’s furious gaze, and nod.

"Get back, Astarion!" she hissed, and in a dazzling display of athletics and brute strength, brought down her mace upon Godey, his skull splitting with a sickening crack.

Gale summoned bolts of lightning to dance around him. The damp air crackled with electricity, illuminating the dungeon in an otherworldly glow. All it took was one bolt to strike Godey down until he was nothing more than a pile of dust.

Your eyes remained locked on Astarion as Shadowheart raised her hand, and the shackles that bound him burst apart with a resounding snap. He stumbled slightly; disbelief etched across his face.

“Oh, thank Gods we found you in time,” you sigh in relief as you approach him. “Are you hurt?”

He said nothing. Just... stared at you.

“Can you walk?” you tried, holding out a hand to touch his shoulder. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Don’t touch me!” he winced back, and you instantly retracted your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said, backing up to give him space. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help you?”

Astarion’s scepticism waned a little; this version of you was a lot more... convincing than the last one. The way your eyes crinkled in distress, those little twitches your fingers did when you were nervous, even your scent was... almost enough to convince him you were the real deal.

Yet, doubt clawed at the edges of his mind like a persistent, haunting whisper.

"You can't be real," Astarion whispered, his voice laced with a soft tremor.

Your eyes welled with frustration and hurt, but your voice remained gentle as you replied, "Astarion, I am as real as the air we’re breathing and the ground we stand on. I'm right here."

Astarion shook his head, his disbelief lingering like a stubborn fog.

"No, this isn't possible," he insisted, his voice rising. "This is another trick, isn’t it?”

“Trick?” Karlach tilted her head.

“Cazador sent you,” Astarion said, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled in disbelief, almost hysterically. “Not one shapeshifter, but five? I mean where... where did he even manage to find you all?”

“Not how I would thank my rescuers, but each to their own, I suppose” Shadowheart said incredulously. “We need to leave, unless you fancy waiting for the cavalry to arrive.”

Karlach bumped the cleric’s shoulder. “Just give him a moment, yeah? He’s obviously a bit... confused.”

“Oh, it’s all as clear as day to me, darling,” the vampire spat, making her flinch. “Put on the act as much as you want, but I will not be going anywhere with you.”

He glanced down at the dust pile beneath his feet and gave it a good kick. “Though I suppose I should thank you for getting rid of him, nasty little thing.”

“That was... Godey, right?” you tentatively asked, and his red eyes flashed back up as you slowly edged forward. “I remember you telling me about him, that night we spent near the underground lake, do you remember? We stared up at the rocks and pretended to point out constellations.”

“How on earth could you... know that?”

When you were close enough, he reached out tentatively, his trembling fingers brushing against your cheek. The warmth he felt was real, but his mind refused to surrender. “You can’t be real,” he repeated, his voice a whisper and laden with desperation.

Part of you wanted to use the tadpole to reach into his mind to convince him you were real, and it would have been the quicker option. But you couldn’t—wouldn't— invade his privacy like that.

A whirlwind of emotions tore through Astarion—love, hope, fear, and an overwhelming sense of longing. He wanted desperately to believe you, to pull you into his arms and never let go. Yet, the scars of his master that etched deep into his soul held him back.

You reached out and gently took Astarion's hands, placing them on your chest, your touch warm and reassuring. "I understand your fear, but you have to trust in us. Trust in the way my heart skips a beat when I look at you. I am real, Astarion. Our love is real."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally allowed himself to believe. With a trembling hand, he cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye. “It’s really you,” he breathed, a mixture of awe and relief in his voice.

You leaned into his hand. “It’s really me.”

“As much as I would love to recite the perfect poem to encapsulate this heartwarming reunion,” Gale said, putting a hand on both your shoulder and Astarions. “I do believe we should make tracks.”

Astarion didn’t even have it in him to make any quips or comebacks, so he merely nodded, allowing you to take his hand as you led the way.

With renewed determination, the group made their escape, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Fire and lightning clashed with steel, and the dungeon's oppressive darkness was pierced by their resolute will. Together, they left a burning path of retribution in their wake, until they emerged into the moonlit courtyard and didn’t stop until they made it all the way back to camp.

“Woo!” Karlach cheered, turning back momentarily to hold up her middle finger up to the Szarr Palace as it disappeared over the horizon. “Can’t believe we actually managed to pull that off.”

“Neither can I,” Shadowheart deadpanned, her expression softening as she looked at Astarion. “But... I’m glad we did.”

“So am I,” Gale smiled. “This team wouldn’t be the same without your... well, let’s say charm.”

“You have such a way with words, Gale,” Astarion weakly joked. “But... know that I am grateful for you rescuing me, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time.”

“Aw, that’s alright!” Karlach gave him a thumbs up. “You’re with us now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I appreciate that, darling but...” his voice trembled slightly. “Cazador, he’ll... he needs me for the ritual. He will come after me again.”

“I’d like to see him try,” you said, your confident smile betrayed by your eyes as you clutched onto his hand like a lifeline. “He may be a vampire lord, but he doesn’t even have a slither of Karlach’s strength, or Shadowheart’s resolve or Gale’s power. And if all else fails we’ll just throw Lae’zel at him.”

You pause for a moment.

“I know we fucked up tonight but... that won’t happen again, Astarion. We’ll do better. I’ll be better. He... that bastard won’t get you.”

The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze in kind. He felt the warmth of your love wrapping around his dead heart, like a protective cloak. In that moment, Astarion didn’t know what path lay ahead for him, but he knew that Cazador wouldn’t have any say in it, or anyone else for that matter.

His future... belonged to him.

xxx

eh... sorry the ending's a tad cheesy but hope you enjoyed anyhow!

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to save you from kidnappers

Request - Astarion helps you to see that you're beautiful

#astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #request #tw kidnapping #bg3 gale #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 karlach #bg3 godey

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activate-shadow-of-the-window · 4 months

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Playing around with colored pencils and horizons designs I haven’t taken past the ‘tiny faceless figure in a pile of other tiny figures’ stage.

Commander X(isumavoid) is… no one knows, really. They only appear as a moving suit of complete armor, covered from head to toe to fingertips, with the Dragon Skull Crown full of darkness as a head.

Tango Tek is part blaze, part stray, part human. Fiery hair, a left eye like a blaze rod and a right eye clouded with cataracts, the mark of the undead, has the King of the Basalt Throne.

Doc Mk-77 is a faerie? Probably a faerie. Goat horns, hooves, and ears, butterfly wings, mechanical body parts, and the Deepfang Crown.

False Symmetry is a human. Pale and shadowy is the Lady of the Darkwood Throne.

Duchess Cleo is a zombie. Orange-eyed and haired is the Everfrost Throne’s occupant.

Bee Double Oh (Bdubs for short) is a faerie, something like a glare. Short of stature and loud of voice and personality is the Lord of the Moss Throne.

#horizon to horizon au #hermitcraft au #art for my fic #sketch #prismacolour pencils #having way too much fun with these pencils #i got a new set of 12 in a secret santa #xisumavoid #xisuma fanart #tangotek #tango fanart #falsesymmetry #falsesymmetry fanart #docm77 #docm77 fanart #zombiecleo #zombiecleo fanart #bdubs #bdubs fanart

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shu-box-puns · 1 year

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Leaning to put on an exopack

'You lose that mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds, you’re dead in four minutes.'

More of my Dad!Tsu'tey and Spider brain rot.

Right so when the school was still an active thing and before Sylwanin died, Tsu'tey attended with the other children. He was one of Grace's best students. Incredibly bright and eager to learn. Very competitive with Neytiri to see who could learn the most English words in the least amount of time.

Tsu'tey was not part of the group that set the bulldozer on fire. He wasn't even in school that day since his father had taken him and his brother out on a hunt for the day. By some dumb luck, he missed the entire situation.

The school got closed down. Sylwanin died of her wounds. And the Omaticaya learnt all they needed to about the Sky People.

But Tsu’tey wasn't done. He noticed that Grace's demon body often visited the school. She tidied the learning resources and swept the leaves.

He approached her on impulse one day, intending to chase her off but instead growing curious.

He demanded she teach him about the breathing masks the Sky People wore. How to disable them, how they worked. Anything he could use to his advantage should they turn their attention on HomeTree.

Grace had agreed easily enough. Tsu'tey assumed it was her love of teaching that convinced her, but he had a sneaking suspision she had simply had a soft spot for him.

She had turned to one of the cupboards facing the far wall, mercilessly untouched by bullet wounds, and began pulling out various exopacks for him to practice on.

If she was disturbed by his reasonings, she didn't show it as she cleared one of the tables and began setting the spare exopacks down. She turned away again, ducking down to drag out a human-sized silicone dummy for him to practise disarming.

The exopacks turned out to be easy to break. All he had to do was break the glass front covering the face or slash the breathing tube that connected the face to the small pack that typically hung from a belt or was attached to a backpack.

He found them incredibly bothersome.

"Very good." Grace complimented, and Tsu’tey returned his gaze to her. He recognised the challenge in her tone. Similar to how she used to goad him into pushing himself further during English lessons. His head tilted in silent question and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Can you take them off without destroying them?"

He scoffed. Of course he could.

And then he attempted to do so and failed miserably.

Tsu'tey quickly discovered that the straps that secured the mask to the back of the skull were too small for his fingers and he often ended up tearing them clean off by accident. The valves were too fiddly and popped off easily. By the time he could confidently put on and take off the exopack from the human-sized mannequin Grace provided, she had a small mountain of packs in need of repairing.

Carefully removing the mask from the mannequin was counter productive and far more time consuming than breaking it. He told her as such and she merely laughed.

In hindsight and years down the line, Tsu’tey thanked Grace with all he had for her challenge. He prayed to the Great Mother, praising her for putting those curious thoughts into his head and encouraging him to take those lessons from his late teacher.

Every prayer of gratitude he'd ever learnt fell from his lips as he knelt curled over his vulnerable, sky person son. The limp boy lay unconscious in his arms, completely shielded from the forest within Tsu'tey's protective embrace.

At the hunter's feet sat Spider's old exopack, the glass front smashed in and the cables in disarray after he'd hit the ground hard and collided with a rock concealed by moss. By some miracle, Tsu'tey had remembered to strap a spare to his belt earlier that morning.

It had happened so fast. Terrifyingly fast.

By nature, Spider had always been clumsy. So Tsu'tey had assumed this fall was like all the others. With a roll of his eyes, he'd hooked his arms under Spider's armpits and hauled him to his feet. He hadn't stood when Tsu'tey had gone to set him back down.

The hunter's ears flickered uncertainly at the strange wheezing sound the boy was making. He realised that the mask was no longer hissing in time with every breath. Time had slowed as Tsu'tey glanced to the moss cloaked rock and recognised the shape and shine of broken glass. His blood had run cold and Spider stopped making that awful noise.

Somehow that was far worse than his son struggling to breath.

Instinct had had Tsu'tey scooping his son up into his arms. He spun him round and Spider had gone limp in his grasp. His lips turning blue and his eyes unseeing. He was still breathing. But each breath was shallow. Unfufilling.

Muscle memory had Tsu’tey scrambling for the exopack at his belt. His eyes were narrowed in concentration despite the sickeningly fast pounding of his heart. Those hours spent crouched over the silicon mannequin came in handy as he managed to slip the straps over his boy's face and turn on the air flow. His large fingers fiddled frantically with the buttons, eyes flicking all over Spider's face as the mask audibly suctioned on.

Spider did not wake. But the blue tint to his face had immediately subsided as Earth air flooded his system; filling his suffocating lungs. The seizing of his chest ceased and he finally stopped twitching. He looked like he'd fallen asleep again.

Tsu’tey could've wept with relief as he clutched Spider to his chest; fingers spread between his shoulder blades to support his back where he could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his hand. His head was cradled against his neck, where the rhythmic inhale and click of the exopack further calmed Tsu'tey's nerves.

He would live, he knew.

After years of war, he knew first hand what a dying human sounded like. How their body seized from the lack of breathable air, how they went deathly still, eyes unseeing.

In contrast, Spider was peaceful. Cuddling into his warmth and practically melting under his touch.

He’s been fast enough, he reassured himself.

And for now, that was enough.

#tsu’tey #Tsu'tey #spider #spider socorro #me looking at two characters who have never met in cannon and have no idea of the other's existence #i am loving the father son potential #father son moment #father son duo #found family

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beansprean · 1 year

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Atlantis AU….. for @fanfic-fugue who asked the very important question what if a vampire fanboy with Van Helsing lineage led an expedition to an ancient lost vampire city no one thinks exists? And also Nandor had his tits out? 😈

(ID in alt and under cut)

1a. Background of an underground Persian palace of cracked stone and tile, overgrown with vines and moss and surrounded by pink silk trees. Closer to the viewer, beyond a plain that is half sand half meadow, is a double waterfall flanked by cracked stone pillars, pouring into a basin covered by a gulley of cypress trees. Closer still is a short set of fallen stairs leading down to a peaceful blue pond with floating lily pads and a massive cracked stone pillar set crooked in the ground. The pillar is coated in vines and algae and has a center ring of round protrusions capped by red gems, some of which are missing. Standing at the top of the ruined stairs are Guillermo and Nandor. Guillermo is dressed like Milo Thatch in an army green tank top, brown breeches, and stockings, a leather bag crossed over his chest and an old book tucked under his arm. He is reaching out towards the pillar with his free hand, smiling in fascination as he remarks, “Wow, this architecture is amazing!” Nandor stands behind him, arms tucked behind his back, and replies “I suppose. It looks like breasts.” Nandor is wearing a version of his usual layered kaftan in light purples and blues, a long dark blue sash with gold patterns draped over his shoulders and tucked into a leather belt at his waist. 1b. Full body drawing of Nandor in the same outfit, showing more detail like brown leather boots, the ancient-looking sword strapped to his belt, and the looser bun holding back his hair. Nandor is standing proud and upright, looking directly at the viewer with one hand on the hilt of his blade.

2a. Close up of Guillermo soaking wet and dripping, his tank top now translucent enough to see his nipples through. He is talking excitedly, almost manic, grinning and gesturing wildly with his hands at someone offscreen. There is a plain gold crucifix around his neck. 2b. Close up of The Guide dressed like Helga Sinclair in a long silk black evening dress, black gloves, ushanka, and fur stole, draped casually in a chair with legs crossed, the fur tucked into her elbows and one strap of the dress slipped down over her shoulder. She lifts one hand in a “what the heck?” gesture and says, “Guillermo de la Cruz… I sent, like, 50 ravens!!”

3a. Full body of Guillermo smiling confidently, holding up an old leather book with a red skull design, titled “Vampyr”. He is wearing a khaki colored sweater, brown breeches, stockings, button boots, and a long faded green coat. He has a leather bag strapped across his chest. 3b. Full body of Nandor stripped down to a tiny wrapped-cloth undergarment, standing with hip cocked flirtatiously, one arm stretched up to rest against the side of the image as he grins teasingly, one eyebrow cocked. He asks casually, “Do you swim?” 3c. Close up of Guillermo pausing in the act of pulling off his own shirt, clutching the hem with both hands at his breast line. He stares openly at Nandor, face tomato-red and shaking mouth struggling to form words, stuttering out, “I-I swim pretty guy- pretty good!!”

4. Nandor and Guillermo floating together underwater, Nandor in his cloth briefs and Guillermo in white boxers. They both have their hands placed on a cracked stone mural depicting an ancient bearded warrior on horseback, wielding a sword much like Nandor’s and a helmet and armor similar to the one his ghost wore in the show. Their hands touch against the stone and they turn to look at each other, Guillermo flushed and spilling bubbles between his lips, Nandor unbreathing with large liquid eyes. Guillermo’s crucifix is floating up in the water, shining bright gold. The entire scene is overlaid with teal and shining water effects, light piercing down at them in rays. /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis au #mlm #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #wwdits the guide #what we do in the shadows fx #what we do in the shadows #my art #fanart #image described

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wintrwinchestr · 7 months

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bad girl (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: you broke one of joel's rules, and he punishes you for it. but he can never stay disappointed with you for long, not when all you wanna do is be his good girl.

warnings: 18+ (inappropriate language & allusion to smut), big time daddy kink!!! (bordering on ddlg?), pet names (babygirl, lil' girl, sweetheart, darlin,' sugar, honey), punishment, spanking (not very descriptive), lil bit of subspace, protective daddy!joel, no physical description of reader, lil bit of humiliation, praise, please let me know if i missed anything or should correct something!!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: hi!! this is the first fic i've written in like 5 or 6 years, and definitely the first creative writing i've done in a long time. i also don't really know how to write smut but i'm hoping to learn how and get more confidence to try more writing!! (nice/polite) comments welcome, thank you for reading!!

Crouching behind a large, moss-covered tree stump, you curiously observed the doe and two fawns grazing just a couple of yards in front of you. You tried to keep your breathing quiet and shallow so as not to startle them, a task that proved difficult with the way your heart was nervously pounding. You knew you weren’t allowed outside of Jackson’s walls without Joel, but you had overheard some of the others talking about a family of deer they had seen on the woods’ perimeter as they returned from their patrol. You were eager to see them for yourself, even if it meant breaking one of Joel’s rules.

The sharp sound of a branch snapping behind you caused the creatures to swiftly bound away, and you quickly turned around with a startled gasp.

You almost screamed, thinking you would turn your head to see an Infected approaching you. Instead, your stomach dropped at the sight of Joel, sporting a disappointed scowl. Your heartrate quickened even further, knowing you were caught disobeying him. You suddenly felt like one of the scared little fawns as you were still crouched below his towering form.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’ out here, sweetheart?” He asked in a low tone, slowly approaching you while staring daggers into your nervous gaze.

“I… I was just… just wanted to see the…” you tried to explain, looking around and gesturing to where the deer had been standing just a few seconds ago.

“Up,” he ordered, making a motion with his pointer finger for you to stand up. You obeyed immediately, knowing better than to not follow his commands at this point. “Turn around, and walk until I tell you to stop. Hold your hands behind your back.” His voice sounded dark, rumbling from deep in his chest.

You turned your back to him, and let out another little gasp when he came up behind you and gripped the back of your neck, your cue to start walking.

After several minutes of trudging deeper into the damp forest with your hands held obediently behind your back and your head hung low, Joel ordered you to stop once you had reached a small clearing. He released his hand from its firm grip at the base of your skull and spun you around to face him.

“On your knees f’ me, babygirl. Come on now...”

You followed his order without hesitation and knelt at his feet, the cool forest floor providing some relief to your flushed skin.

Unable to bring yourself to look at him on your own, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilted your head, forcing your gaze upward.

“You look at me when I’m speakin’ t’ you,” he demanded, giving your chin a little shake. “Y’ know why I came and found you, why I marched you all the way out here? Hm? Don’t you think about lyin’ to me, lil’ girl…”

You struggled to nod your head against his tight grip, your eyes beginning to water. You started to reach your hands toward his crotch in a desperate attempt to please him and shift the focus away from your disobedience.

“Nuh uh, you keep those hands behind your fuckin’ back, babygirl. You dont’ get to touch Daddy ‘til you admit t’ what you did. Tell Daddy… were you a good girl or a bad girl today, hm?”

You did as he ordered and returned your hands to their previous resting position against the small of your back. You didn’t want to admit to him or yourself that you had messed up today, broken one of the rules he had for you. But you knew that you were already caught, he already knew the truth, and you were getting punished no matter what.

“B… Bad girl, Daddy,” you confessed, your voice coming out small and meek.

“Yeah, tha’s right. You were a bad fuckin’ girl today.” Your obedient admission of guilt prompted him to shift his harsh demeanor to a softer one. “Why were you a bad girl, darlin’, huh? Tell Daddy what you did.” He could never stay too mean with you for long, he loved you too much to not be sweet on you.

He began to comb his fingers across your scalp, and the sensation made your eyelids start to feel heavy, sending you deeper into your soft state of submission. Still kneeling, you shuffled closer to him, and this time, he allowed you to wrap your hands around his calf.

“I- I left the town by myself… Didn’ tell you where I was goin’...”

“Yeah, you sure did, honey. And why does that make you a bad girl, hm? Come on, don’t float away from me jus’ yet.” He gave your cheek a soft pat, bringing you back down to Earth a bit.

“B- because I made Daddy worry about me. Somethin’ b- bad could’ve happened to me and you wouldn’t’a kn- known where I was.”

“Tha’s right, sugar. Thank you for bein’ honest with Daddy...” He stopped stroking your hair in favor of cupping the side of your face, softly rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. Joel was always good at understanding you when you struggled to speak through your little hiccups and sobs. “You know you’re not suppose’ta leave Jackson without me, darlin’. It’s dangerous outside the walls, I gotta be with you, gotta protect my lil’ girl, yeah?”

“I know… I’m s- sorry, Daddy. Won’t h- happen again, I promise. Don’ wanna be a bad girl–”

“Shh, I know darlin’, I know,” he interrupted before you could get yourself too worked up, squatting down to your level and using his thumbs to softly wipe away a few tears that had spilled over onto your heated cheeks. “Always wanna be so good for me, isn’t that right? Sweet lil’ thing loves bein’ Daddy’s good girl, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Daddy, love bein’ good for you, always wanna be good for you...”

“I know, honey, I know. But you were bad today, breakin’ my rules. The rules I have to keep you safe, to protect you... I think that deserves at least a few spankin’s, don’t ya think? Hm? Since you were honest with Daddy, I’ll make ‘em softer today. Ten sound okay, sugar?”

You gave him an eager nod, more willing to accept your punishment now that he promised not to spank you too hard. He raised his eyebrows at your silent response, not completely satisfied.

“Yes, Daddy,” you spoke up to correct yourself.

“Good girl, tha’s better. C’mon over here, over my knee. We’ll do ten spanks, and if you take all of ‘em without any whinin’, I’ll let you have a lil’ treat… How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy…” You nodded, starting to calm down a bit. You got up from your kneeling position and made your way over to where Joel was now sat on a fallen log. He patted his thighs with a “C’mere, baby,” and you obediently bent yourself over his lap. He reached underneath your tummy to unbutton your jeans and gently pulled them down, along with your panties, to expose your plush bottom to him.

He delivered the ten spanks, making them softer than usual as promised, but they stung nonetheless. After all, they still had to hurt a little bit if you were going to learn your lesson and remember to follow his rules.

You thanked him for your punishment and stood up, facing him, but still struggled to look him in the eye and felt guilty for disobeying him.

“I really am sorry, Daddy…” you said quietly, almost a whisper.

He used one hand to gently lift up your chin to make your eyes meet, and the other to stroke through your hair again.

“I know y’ are, honey. Thank you for apologizing to Daddy. You took your punishment so well for me, baby, my good lil’ girl... Daddy just wants to keep you safe, tha’s all… You know that, right? You know that’s why Daddy’s gotta punish you sometimes?”

You nodded in understanding as he pulled your underwear back up over your bottom and eyed the wet spot that had begun to form on the front of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, look at that… Looks like we might have to find a different punishment to use from now on, won’t we? Seems like you might enjoy this one a bit too much… My naughty girl…” He ran his knuckles over the damp fabric, making you whimper at the contact. “Why don’t we get you back to the house and take care of this needy pussy, hm? Can’t even get a spankin’ without her droolin’ for me…”

“Please, Daddy…” your breath hitched as you rocked into his touch, arousal heating up at his brief humiliation.

“Patience, babygirl… Eager lil’ thing… I said if you took your spankin’s without any whinin’ you’d get a treat, didn’t I?” He pulled your jeans back up over your underwear and buttoned them, giving you one last soft pat on your bottom before standing back up to his full height. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you taken care of…”

You walked with him hand-in-hand back to Jackson, your bottom still stinging with each step, but feeling grateful for your Joel who loves you, protects you, gives you a firm hand when you need it, and takes care of all of your needs. The pair of you got some knowing and slightly judgmental looks from some of the more gossipy townsfolk as you re-entered the gates of Jackson, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when your Daddy was about to take you up to his bedroom, lay you down on his bed, and make you feel like the most perfect girl in what’s left of the world. His perfect girl.

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

Time had passed since you last saw the Viking galloping down the trails, and in his absence, your heart grew steadily fonder of the stranger — of his kindness, his softness. Fate, however, knew of this and sent a gift of its own your way, in the form of a proud steed, ridden by your Viking.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⇁ Viking!Bucky Barnes x Fae!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ⇁ 2.6k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⇁ Fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ⇁ Full of bonding moments thanks to @sgt-seabass — thank you for the ideas, babe!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ⇁ Algir — Tognatale by Warduna

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⇁ @the-slumberparty Week 2 Blast From the Past Challenge — Masterlist

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐨𝐠𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Cycles and cycles of Sol and Mani passed after the hunter had taken your gift back to his people. You hadn’t seen him travelling or passing through your home, the small creek having ebbed and flowed in size in his absence. Many creatures had flitted about the trail where the Viking’s horse had proudly strode, though none lived up to the majesty of the steed that snorted like an ormslíki.

You knew it was forbidden - speaking to the hunter, the Viking, you risked so much to do so, but like a forbidden fruit, the longer you ignored the curiosity, the more it became unbearable.

The moss on the forest’s floor had grown and become spongy under foot, while ivy and bushes spread and grew to cover fallen trunks of trees, boulders, and stones. A small path was woven amongst the still standing trees that lead to the main trail and you followed it, wandering slowly and carefully amongst the brush and creatures that flocked to follow you.

It was peaceful. Quiet, hauntingly quiet, when all you wanted to hear was the sound of heavy hoofbeats and proud snorting, and the rich sound of the Viking’s voice.

Your dress flowed in the breeze as you walked, the hem never catching on brambles and weeds. It had been woven by your mother centuries ago, where magic and cloth could be combined as one - a tradition that had long since passed with the ages.

The song of your people left you in a soft hum and carried in the slight wind, but by no means had you expected it to reach as far to actually be heard by someone.

Hoofbeats pounded the earth in the distance and you froze. The animals at your feet scattered at the sound and bolted past the tree line, out of sight. There was no way to distinguish just who it was, and you were too close to the main trail by now to run to safety, towards home. You cursed and ducked behind a fallen limb of a tree - the advantage of being a descendent of Faefolk was that you were small, delicate, you could hide somewhat out of sight while whoever it was passed by.

However, fate was not so kind.

“Hey! Hey, I see you!” The voice was loud over the thunderous hoofbeats and proud snorting, the richness of the stranger’s tone familiar… “I thought I would never see you again, little Mouse.”

Mouse? Little Mouse?

You peered over a knot in the trunk and your eyes widened when they landed upon the stranger and his horse. It was him, the one human that had captured your train of thought and imagination since he had kneeled at your creek. He was back.

“Hello,” he said softly, smiling down at you in your not-so-hidden hiding place. You met his gaze, then glanced down at the flash of ivory in the sun; an animal’s skull was covering the fastening of leather and buckles for his bear skin cloak. Your gift. “I have been searching for you,” he continued and you looked back up to study his expression - it was open, kind. “Your gift was beautiful and I wanted to thank you–my people thought me mad going on constant hunting trips. I just had to find you.”

“Me?” You squeaked, widening your eyes and shrinking down into the soft, mossy forest floor.

“Yes, you, little Mouse.” He dismounted swiftly and eyed the trunk with amusement, a slight quirk to his lips. “Why are you hiding?”

“I was s-scared,” you tried, slowly getting to your feet and looking him briefly in the eye. His stare was too intense to hold.

The Viking frowned slightly, a line forming between his brows. “Your people are not very…”

“No, we are not.” Your tone was instinctually defensive and you winced, not wanting to offend him. Hearing the words from his lips, you feared, would break your heart. It was true, your people had been hunted for sport and taken as thralls for as long as the tales had been written. It had been a miracle, a gift from the gods, that he hadn’t taken you with him when he first saw you all that time ago. He had proven himself to be different to his kinfolk, and you maybe trusted him slightly more than what was safe because of it.

“Where is your home from here, Mouse?”

You pointed back through the trees towards a mass collection of boulders. “Over there.”

“I brought you a gift,” he continued, grabbing the reins of his horse and stepping closer. “I thought with the change coming so soon, you would need something…”

“Something?” You prompted; brow raised.

He looked to be considering his words. “I feel uncomfortable, Mouse,” he opted instead and you waited. “I don’t know who you are and yet… I am drawn back to you, and you don’t even know my name, nor do I know yours.”

The horse snorted and pawed the ground, and you swore if you looked closely, the steed was rolling his eyes in annoyance. It was an effort to suppress the laugh that grew in your chest. Instead, you prompted the Viking again, “No, I do not,” you said, smiling. “But you look like a giant bear.”

Laughter bellowed from the man and he was grinning, shaking his head in mirth. “A bear, you say?” You nodded and stepped over the log, forcing him to step back - you wanted to be closer, to investigate the craftsmanship of his armour, you lied. “Well, my name is Bucky, but you, you adorable little Mouse, can call me Bear–if you so wish.”

“Bucky Bear…”

Bucky just stared at you, his expression flat and unimpressed. “Very funny.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Come,” you said, grabbing his considerably larger hand in yours and offering your name. “Let me take you to my home.”

Both Bucky and his horse followed you through the trees, and you couldn’t hide the quick glances towards the steed. If it were even possible, his coat gleamed like freshly fallen snow under bright sólskin, and black dapples decorated his strong legs and proud face. Bucky seemed to have caught you in the act, however. “What is it, Mouse?”

You glanced up at Bucky and then back to the steed, when Bucky came to a stop. “Your horse,” you began, shuffling closer while the steed turned his head and looked at you, his eyes soft and calm. “What is his name?”

“This is Ragnar,” Bucky said softly. “He has been with me through many battles and carried me home wounded and at the door of Valhalla more times than I can count.”

Tentatively, you reached a hand out for Ragnar to sniff at, but the stallion forwent it and chose to nuzzle into your hand instead, a squeak of shock leaving you before you could master the impulse.

“Here,” Bucky started, stepping back until he stood behind the saddle. “Hop up.”

“I-I cannot-”

“Yes, you can,” Bucky assured, using the grip he had on your hand to pull you closer. Ragnar seemed to sense your unease and he stood still; a creature carved from stone. “I will help you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, standing next to the stallion and in front of Bucky. You couldn’t even see over the other side of Ragnar’s back. “What if I fall?”

“I will catch you,” Bucky said, incredulous, like it wasn’t obvious. “Now,” Bucky bent down and fitted his hands under your arms–you prayed he wouldn’t feel the hammering of your heart. “I will lift you up, and you just have to swing one leg over. Understood?”

You nodded and Bucky smiled. Air rushed around you as he heaved you up, and you swung a leg over the other side of Ragnar’s back, settling into the saddle with a shaky laugh. “Look at that!” Bucky cried; the pride evident in his voice. “You are a natural already! Hold on now, little Mouse.”

Bucky scratched Ragnar’s cheek and the steed nickered, an unspoken promise that he would not throw you - though you still held onto the saddle for dear life when Ragnar began to walk further into the trees.

“You can pet him, if you want,” Bucky said, falling in step beside you so his shoulder bumped your knee. “Ragnar would like it.”

“O-Okay,” you stammered. Ragnar’s coat beneath your fingertips was soft like a cloud, and the muscles in his shoulders rippled as he walked ever so slowly and carefully. “He is so soft.”

Bucky grinned up at you, and you smiled back.

The hill by the boulders proved to be a challenge, and the first few steps that Ragnar took tilted you forward. “Hold on now, Mouse,” Bucky reminded you, careful to stay right beside you while Ragnar navigated the rocks and branches.

“That’s it, boy,” Bucky said when Ragnar slowed his steps, his shoulders jarring and shifting with the steepness. “Easy now.”

Bucky’s connection with Ragnar warmed your heart, but a gasp of fear left you when Ragnar stepped too far down and you tipped sideways, only to land in Bucky’s arms. You looked around wildly while Bucky chuckled softly. “I told you I would catch you if you fell, little Mouse.”

“T-Thank you,” you murmured. It was nice to be held, you admitted - even in such circumstances.

“Do you want to try getting back in the saddle,” Bucky asked, still holding you to his chest. “Or do you want to walk?”

You shut down the thought that you wished he had offered to carry you instead. “I will walk, I think.”

Bucky nodded and placed you on your feet gently. With you in the lead, the three of you made your way down the steep hillside and towards your creek which flowed freely, lapping at the banks of grass on either side. Ragnar snorted once his feet reached even ground and you wandered over to pat him. “Good boy, Ragnar.”

“Don’t give him an ego, Mouse,” Bucky huffed before jumping down from a boulder. “I will never hear the end of it if you do.”

“How can I give a precious creature such a thing,” you fired back, holding Ragnar’s head in your arms while you stared at Bucky, accusation painted in your furrowed brow and deep frown. “Ragnar does not have a stórlátr bone in his body.”

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, and I’m not a hersir.”

Ignoring Bucky’s feigned annoyance, you ran forward and grabbed his hand once more. He startled but you shushed him, leading him further down the bank where a log rested by a heap of stones; a place where you spent time amongst nature and caring for creatures. “Come, sit.”

The sight made you giggle - Bucky, a literal bear of a man, sat on the log and took up over half of it with his bulk and cloak. “What?”

“Nothing,” you assured, sitting down next to him. Bucky raised a brow as if to question you. “You are just very… big. You are a bear.”

“You’re very funny, Mouse, you know that, right?” Bucky deadpanned. Though the slight curl of his lips in a smirk gave him away.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence while Ragnar wandered about behind you. Eventually, Ragnar finally came to a stop next to you and lowered his head so his cheek brushed your temple. “Hello, boy,” you whispered, offering your hand to pet his muzzle.

“Ah, I forgot,” Bucky piped up suddenly, moving his cloak to the side to reveal a satchel. “Your gift, I packed it into my bag, I didn’t want it damaged on my journey.” Curious, you watched Bucky release the fastenings and buckles until he paused, looking back up at you. “Are you going to close your eyes, or?”

“Oh,” you rushed, shutting them quickly. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

“Do not apologise, little Mouse,” Bucky interrupted. “I just wanted it to be a surprise.” There were sounds of rustling and suddenly, something soft, fluffy, and heavy was placed in your lap, your hands immediately and instinctively moving to touch and investigate. You weren’t the only one, however. “Ragnar, no, out of it, boy,” Bucky rushed, and you felt Ragnar’s head move from your side, though he remained nearby. “Nosey skitr.”

You laughed softly, still running your hands along the soft bundle in your lap. “Open your eyes, Mouse,” Bucky said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

Bright daylight blinded you for a second until you focused on Bucky’s face, his expression happy, eager almost, and then you looked down at your lap to find a wolf’s pelt, as white as Ragnar, tightly furled. “Oh, my- Bucky-”

“To keep you warm,” Bucky explained, shuffling closer to you and opening the fur so it could drape over your lap. “I hunted the beast myself; I knew when I laid eyes upon the wolf it would be perfect.”

You looked up at Bucky, eyes wide and glassy; no one had ever given you such a thoughtful gift before. Your heart was so full it was fit to burst, and an outpour of adoration manifested before you could stop it.

Bucky was knocked back with the force of your hug and he let out an, “oof!” of surprise. Your arms were tight around his shoulders and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, where intricate stories were inked into his skin. Your legs straddled his thigh, and you squeaked in surprise when Bucky moved you so he could gain his balance again, now sitting upright and holding you to his chest.

“I take it you like my gift, little Mouse?” Bucky said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

You nodded fervently, and pulled back to face him. Never before had you been so close to another person, a human, and the beauty of his face struck you. His eyes were even clearer up close, he had faint scars and freckles dotted along his skin, and his hair–you had thought it was black, but it was a dark brown. The urge to touch and run your hand through it reared its head, and you didn’t resist.

Bucky’s breath hitched, and he smirked. “Mouse? Did you like it?”

Your eyes roved from his hair to meet his gaze, and you smiled softly. “Yes, I love it,” you said quietly, before moving forward to kiss Bucky on the cheek. “Thank you, my Bear.”

Not one to tolerate being left out, Ragnar snorted and pushed his face into your shoulder, making you cackle and Bucky groan. “Streð mik, get out of it, you skitr!”

You made to move when Ragnar sidled off with a definite pout, but Bucky held you tight around your waist, unyielding and unwilling to let go. “No, no, please,” he whispered, moving one hand to his cloak and draping it around you. “Stay with me a while longer.”

In lieu of speaking and saying how much you had wanted this, you shifted and cuddled into his chest, your forehead resting in the crook of his neck.

After a while, you spoke up quietly, afraid to shatter the illusion–it was hard to believe that it wasn’t a dream. “I am glad you found me again, Bear.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle and his grip around you tightened minutely. A sudden pressure atop your head made you gasp sharply in surprise. “‘S just me,” Bucky soothed, rubbing a hand up and down your spine. The weight of his cheek on your head settled and you calmed, entirely wrapped in his warmth; the furs and armour were nothing to the heat his body warmed you with.

“Me too, little Mouse,” Bucky whispered. “Me too.”

Ormslíki = Dragon Sólskin = Sunshine Stórlátr = Arrogant Skitr = Shit Streð mik = Fuck me

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #viking bucky #viking au #fae au #navy and roo's sleepover #rookthorne's works #ABE

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