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captainfern · 6 months

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You Know You're Right

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - an argument with your bodyguard ends a lot differently than you anticipated lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.6k • warnings - fem!reader, thick girl friendly ofc, bodyguard!price, protective/jealous!price, oral [f!receiving], angry!sex but not really, he calls you a slag once i'm so sorry but he doesn't mean it i swear, unprotected (obviously) piv, reader has a breeding kink but price is like babe chill, but he also has one, so uh yeah breeding kink (obviously), reader is on contraceptives tho x, dirty talk, praise, degradation, strong language, 99% porn 1% plot • also to note: reader is a wealthy woman in the english countryside. sorry to all my american cuties but you can be a sexy british heiress for a while x

and the uniform stays on 🙏

my contribution to @glitterypirateduck price writing challenge for this month. sorry for the lack of work recently. uni's a bitch. and sorry for any mistakes lol anyway enjoy x

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You don't know how long John Price had been your bodyguard for. You honestly couldn't recall the amount of days, weeks, months, years it had been since you had first met him.

Of course, you remember the day itself, the events, the moment you first met him. A crisp, autumnal morning with the trees around you alit with oranges and reds, and you stood on the front steps of your grand country estate as a couple of military-grade hummers pulled up in front of you.

You remember a few armed men spilling out onto your driveway, clutching M16's or AR15's or whatever the fuck they were because you weren't paying attention to them. You were paying attention to the man that followed behind them.

A man who, as the armed soldiers-of-sorts fanned out and scanned their surroundings, approached you with a warm smile that melted the early-morning chill from the air. With deep eyes that heated you more than the fuzzy housecoat you had bundled around you.

He offered his hand, and you shook it. His hand was warm too.

And the way he spoke– oh fuck, his voice. Flint striking steel and fire crackling from it's spark. A smoker. A man who, all so suddenly, sounded much too experienced to be the bodyguard of a wealthy woman in the English countryside.

"John Price," he had introduced. "S'a pleasure, miss."

You then smiled politely in return and introduced with your name. He chuckled lightly, commenting something along the lines of oh, I know who you are, miss which made your body grow even warmer.

You had looked up, ignoring the fact he was still holding your hand gently in his, and gestured to the three young men who were pacing around the front of your house, weapons drawn. "Will these gentlemen be staying with you for the entirety of your stay?"

He shook his head ruefully. "No, miss. They'll be gone within the hour. Just ensuring they know their way 'round in case they need to get here in a hurry."

You looked back down at him, arching a brow and finally removing your hand from his. He dropped his arm with a clearing of his throat, bringing his hands up to clutch the top of his vest.

"Will they need to get here in a hurry?" You challenged, almost jokingly, but John saw no joke. A joke about your safety is no joke he'd dear indulge in.

"No," he said sternly and quite quickly, you remember. "But it's just precautions. No, don't you worry, sweetheart. You're in safe hands. I assure you that."

Sweetheart.

Perhaps you remember the first meeting with John Price because it was the very first time he referred to you in such a way. Sweetheart. Now, a little over a year later, he still refers to you as such, but also–

"Morning, love. Sleep well?" He'd ask when you emerge from your bedroom in the morning.

Or,

"There she is. Rough night, pet?" He'd quip when you finally decide to show yourself about late-afternoon after a night out with your friends.

Or even,

"Need a hand with that, darling?" He'd offer when you found yourself struggling to carry the many shopping bags through the door.

Oftentimes, the way he spoke to you, the way he referred to you, was like you two had been married for years. And it wasn't only the way he spoke to you that had you going to bed giggling and kicking your feet like a girl with a crush.

Lingering touches and long hugs and kisses to the top of your head. John was always so warm and welcoming. His presence crackled like a fire in winter, lulling you to sleep or to a state of comfortability. If it was any other man, you wondered if you'd be weirded out by the closeness of him– but because it was John, everything just felt... right.

Riding horses in the springtime, and he'd assist you into the saddle with big hands running down your sides and legs, settling you onto your sturdy steed with a squeeze to your knee. He'd ride on a seperate horse if you wanted to canter through the forest; or he'd walk alongside yours if you were only taking a lazy stroll across the pastures.

Swimming in the summertime, and he'd smooth oils across your exposed skin. You'd revel in the way his large palms moved against you, such a strong man being so incredibly gentle. He'd watch you swim, his eyes occasionally darting up and around, before settling back on you again. He always declined to join you, angling that silly little boonie hat of his over his eyes to shield the sun's rays.

Keeping you warm in the wintertime, letting you snuggle up beneath furs and blankets on your couch while he chopped firewood outside, bringing the axe down again and again until he had enough kindling to keep the fire running for days to come. You'd watch him work up a sweat, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his shirt. Your entire body would flush with warmth.

But sometimes... sometimes the two of you didn't get along so well. And it wasn't your fault, you didn't think. You honestly found Captain John Price so confusing at times, especially now that the two of you had known each other for quite some time.

Partying with your friends, and you'd attract the attention of some poor man who didn't know what he was getting himself into. He'd smile at you, offer you drinks or a smoke or whatever you wanted, his hands beginning to wander as the music seemed to grow louder and louder and the colours around you blurred together. You'd laugh and dance and sing with your friends, this man actively engaging with you and–

It never lasted.

Price would swoop in. Sometimes before the stranger could offer you a drink, sometimes after. Sometimes the man never got the chance to even speak to you, with your bodyguard planting himself firmly in front of you and blocking your would-be pursuer.

You were never one to complain. After all, it was his job to protect you. But you didn't like when, after getting home in the early hours of the morning, he would roughly escort you to your room, ensure you wouldn't be sick, then leave without another word.

He'd be better by the morning.

And this became a cycle. A cycle of trying to combat the winds of a hurricane. Impossible, really. You just had to brace yourself.

But you were sick of bracing yourself. You were sick of getting fucking cock-blocked by your ex-military bodyguard. You were an absolutely gorgeous, rich woman living on her own in the countryside, and you fucking deserved to find someone. You, frankly, deserved to get fucked.

"I'm going out tonight," you told Price as you emerged from your bedroom. You were already dressed, looking impeccable as always.

Price lounged in one of the chaises positioned in the hallway outside your bedroom. He glanced up from his phone, glanced back down, and then did a double take. His eyes shot up again and he immediately pocketed his phone as he got to his feet, knees cracking with the speed of it all.

"I– you said you were just going out for a few drinks with friends?" He countered, eyes skimming up and down your frame. But not for any longer than a second, you don't think. Forever the gentleman, his eyes honed in on your face, his gaze already beginning to melt the icy facade you'd put in place.

But you steeled your nerves.

"I am," you said with a smile.

"You're going into the city? I'll have to organise a driver–" Price began, but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You didn't live too far from the main city, but it was still a significant drive for simply a few drinks.

"No, no, we're just popping into town," you said, referring to the small, quaint town less than five down the road. "Having a few drinks at the pub. Nothing big."

You and your friends were regulars at the pub. And John frowned. He knew that the other regulars– a group of men you'd become familiar with– would also be there.

You clocked his frown and your smile grew. "What's the matter, John? Am... Am I not allowed to go?"

He huffed. "No, you can go, but just let me–"

"Oh, no need," you said with a batter of your eyelashes. You told him you'd organise your own driver. "And you don't need to come. I'll only be a couple of hours."

John's jaw tensed, and you could see the muscles moving beneath his facial hair.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm coming."

Your smile faltered. "No, you're not. I'm fine, John. Have a break. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be back before midnight–"

"That doesn't make me feel better," John growled. "I... I have no problem with you going out, but I need to come with you. I– I am coming with you, end of story."

Your smile had disappeared completely now. You then looked him up and down. He was dressed how he usually did, even around the house. A suit complete with the trousers and white dress-shirt. But he wore his kevlar vest over top, and with a belt stocked with a couple of sidearms and ammunition, he didn't exactly look inconspicuous. At least he wasn't wearing his boonie hat.

"Price..." You began. "Please, just... I'll be fine, okay? Can you just let me do something on my own–?"

"No."

You frowned. "John–"

"It's my job to protect you, is it not?" He cocked his head, daring you to challenge him. "You hired me to protect you. You pay me to keep an eye on you since there are a couple of real fuckwits out there that would want to hurt you, right? So why the fuck would I let you leave here alone?"

He took a step forward, opening his arms in a gesture of so?

Your frown deepened. "I deserve some privacy, you know. I appreciate that you look out for me, but I want to be able to enjoy myself in public without..."

John waited, but urged a mocking, "Without...?"

You scoffed. "Without you hovering over me. I just want to... enjoy myself, okay? I want to meet people–"

"Oh," John suddenly said, and his tone was less of realisation, more of discovery. "I see."

You scowled. "What?"

"You want to get fucked, is that it?"

Your mouth dropped open. "I–"

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he tutted, shaking his head as you stood there, embarrassment suddenly festering in the pit of your stomach, as he appraised you like you were a whole new person. He sighed. "You want me gone so I don't stop the lads from flocking to you. Is that it? You want me to let you go out on your own so you can get one of those boys to fuck you?"

The shame in your stomach, pulling and pushing at your conscious, fizzled out and was instead replaced by a new flame of self-determination. You took a step closer to your bodyguard and jabbed a finger into the taut material of his tac vest.

"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, got it? I can do what the fuck I want. I'm a grown woman, Price," you seethed. "Secondly, yeah, I might just get one of the guys at the pub to fuck me. I bet they would, you know. I bet he'd bend me over his knee and–"

"Stop talking," John rolled his eyes, and the gesture made you a whole lot angrier. But he continued before you could say anything else. "You're not going. You can throw a fit if that's what you want, but you're not going."

Throw a fit. You wanted to slap him for that. But you didn't. Even though you were growing angrier and angrier at the man before you, there was something inside your brain that prevented you from going that far. Maybe it was the fact that... seeing him so protective of you... made you feel...

You shook your head to send the thoughts away. You're meant to be angry at him, babe.

"Fuck you," you spat, since those were the only words that managed to come to the forefront of your mind.

He grunted. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just a needy fuckin' slag looking for a quick fuck–"

You raised your hand to slap him. You wanted to strike your palm across his handsome face. A slag? Who the fuck does he think he is–

Price grabbed hold of your wrist before you got within inches of his cheek. And, quickly, you realised you'd made a huge mistake.

In seconds, he had your soft body pinned against the wall beside your bedroom door. He pinned you there with his body, hard and firm against yours, one large hand holding your wrist and nailing it to the wall, while the other grabbed your other wrist and held it by your side.

His face was close to yours. You could smell him. Rich oud, the warmth of some sort of spice note, expensive tobacco–

Your core fluttered.

Oh, fuck off–

Price shoved a knee between your legs, parting them and forcing a yelp from your throat at the way he dragged himself impossibly closer. The taut muscle of his thigh beneath you made you scream within your head, silently begging that the warmth of your clothed cunt didn't give anything away because-

You were fucked.

Fucked off, yes. Angry at him, yes.

But he was also turning you on in a way that no man has ever done before.

"D'you want'a try that again?" He whispered, the words ghosting across the heated skin of your face.

When you didn't respond right away, he pushed his knee up higher, shifting his hips closer to yours, humming out an impatient, "Hm?"

You shook your head.

"Didn't think so."

You frowned. "You're such an arsehole."

"I know," he said, words hushed. "But you fucking love it, don't you?"

The both of you paused. Breathing jaggedly, you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, a storm passing between the two of you, complete with the crackling of thunder. You could feel him breathing against you, and you willed yourself not to look down at where your bodies were flushed together. Instead, you remained calm.

You watched the way his eyes darted across your face. How they lingered on the curves of your cheeks, or the part between your lips. His eyes scanned over your nose, your eyes, your everything. You could almost hear his brain trying to keep up.

You could feel your core growing warmer and warmer, arousal pooling and no doubt tangible. Without a doubt he could feel it against the material of his trousers, soaking through to his thigh. It was already drenching your underwear, and probably ruining his suit.

God, you loved him in a suit.

"What are you waiting for?" You whispered your challenge, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat between you.

Price groaned and he released his hold on your wrists. Instead, he grabbed the fat just above your hip in one hand and wrapped the other around your jaw, before he was pushing forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

•º•º•

John Price didn't know how long it had been since he fell in love with you. He honestly couldn't recall the number of days, weeks, months, years it had been since the moment he first saw you.

But of course he remembers what the day was like– how beautiful and welcoming and soft you looked, bundled in your expensive housecoat with a sliver of your leg exposed to the chilly autumn breeze. He remembers the bright smile, tired but bright, you had offered him as he walked up to you and extended his hand. He remembers the way your hand felt within his, and how he didn't want to let go.

He remembers how his heart lurched in his chest when you introduced yourself, and he recalls feeling nothing but sincerity for the fact a pretty woman like you needed to be protected by someone like him. Oh, but how gorgeous you looked when you thanked him for his service. The almost-guiltiness didn't last for long.

You were always so sweet to him. Even when he put you in your place, told you what you could and couldn't do for your own safety. You were constantly being kind to him. Respectful and polite and understanding.

You were such a good girl.

And as the days passed, as they blurred into weeks and months and finally a year-ish together, you got all the more sweeter. But–

But you now knew him. You knew what made him tick. You knew exactly what to do to get your way. Saunter through your home with a pretty, coy smile and a soft hand on his bicep and of course, sweetheart, we can go into the city today. Or a well-cooked meal of his favourite food, paired with a pint if you really wanted to get into his good books, and okay then, love, I'll call your driver to take us.

You knew how to deal with him. And he let you, of course.

But as the months went by, Price couldn't help but grow resentful. His pretty girl, being chatted up by some absolute mingers in a big-city nightclub. Or maybe even the village idiots down at the local pub. How dare they?

He found himself growing more annoyed that they approached you, instead of worried that they could cause you harm. Sure, they were still a threat, and Price was doing his job. But also, also, they were encroaching on what was his. What belonged to him.

His good girl.

And he supposed he should have seen this coming– an argument bubbling up and over about it all. About how he was always there when you just wanted to socialise and have a good time. How he was always turning guys away from you. It wasn't fear, and John understood that. But he was firm in his thinking– you were his.

Oh fuck, you even looked gorgeous when you were angry at him. When you were spitting and hissing like a feral cat, and even with your claws unsheathed and swinging right towards his face, he found you to be the most ethereal being on the planet.

His pretty girl.

He didn't mean to call you a slag. Of course he didn't mean it. His anger conjuring into stupid fucking words that he couldn't keep hidden in his head. And even then his anger wasn't to you, but to the local fuckwits who haunted the village pub in the hopes of spending time with you.

Delusional cunts.

When John caught your wrist and pinned you to the wall outside your bedroom, he didn't mean to escalate things. He was angry at himself, angry for saying such filth to you. But then–

But then he felt it. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage and your chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the way you squirmed against him, how you arched off the wall and how your barely clothed pussy seemed to throb against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel your warmth through his trousers, feel your need.

His needy girl.

And he was more than happy to indulge you. Hell, he was more than happy to indulge himself.

•º•º•

John's mouth on yours was hot. Liquid heat passing between you, sparks flying as he pulled you closer by the hand on your jaw. He split your lips with his tongue, pushing inside with just as much strength as you anticipated. His lips against yours smeared your gloss, sticky and sweet, mixing with the spit that threatened to drip as he licked into your mouth again and again, chasing the taste of you.

You moaned into it, eyes shut and hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling and angling his head to get yourself closer. He groaned in response, pushing his pelvis closer to yours, and you could feel him growing in his suit trousers.

Then, you began to move. You followed him blindly, your eyes still closed as you attempted to keep up with the languid rhythm of his tongue. He licked at your teeth, your tongue, your lips, committing your taste to memory.

You'd never been kissed like this before.

You were walking backwards, guided by Price's large hands. He had two hands on your waist now, holding you flush to him as he slowly edged you back, back, back until the backs of your legs bumped into something. Your bed.

You broke the kiss, surprised, and turned your head to the side to see that yeah, he'd navigated you both back into the warm, lovely-smelling oasis of your bedroom. As you looked to the side, your bodyguard continued his mission, dragging his lips along your jaw and then latching his mouth onto your neck.

He groaned, tasting more of you. He'd imagined what you'd taste like, imagined the saltiness of your skin his lips. He now knew what your mouth tasted like. All was left now was–

John forced himself away, grumbling to himself and gently pushing you back onto the bed and into a sitting position. You smiled up at him, and he shifted to stand between your parted legs, cupping your face in two hands. He bent down to place one last kiss to your lips, before slowly– with cracking knees and a shallow grunt of effort– he lowered himself to his knees.

His hands dragged down your body. They rolled over your shoulders and arms, skimming lightly over the curves of your breasts and stomach, running over the fat of your hips and thighs. When his knees hit the, thankfully carpeted, floor, he gripped your knees and gave you a couple of comforting squeezes.

"Alright, sweetheart?" He asked, voice husky and full of yen– desire and longing mirrored in his eyes.

His eyes on you, his hands dragged back up your thighs and to where your skirt sat bunched a few inches below your hips. He pinched the fabric, toying with it while waiting for your response.

You nodded at him. "M'alright."

"Can..." He dropped his eyes for just a second to look at your skirt, before raising them again. "Can I take this off, please?"

You nodded again, followed by a whispered yes, please. You then raised your hips for him to pull the fabric down and away from you, shuffling back to rip it down your legs and fling it across the room. You giggled at his enthusiasm as he returned to his original position.

Price groaned low in his throat and leaned forward, holding your thighs apart. Your underwear still on, he pressed his face against you, his beard tickling the softest part of your inner thighs. His nose pressed onto your clit, his lips placing a kiss to your clothed core. This forced a moan from your throat, and you gripped your duvet for some kind of stability.

He kissed at the patch of arousal that had bled through during your altercation in the hallway, his nose nudging against your clit as he decided to swipe his tongue against you. He groaned and you keened, a high pitched mewl, your legs twitching either side of his head.

"Pretty girl..." He whispered, the rumble hitting your clit and making you mewl out again.

He kissed at your clothed cunt again, tongue smoothing along the thin cotton fabric until the entire area was wet with his spit and your arousal. Your legs twitched beside him, pleasure sitting fuzzy in the base of your tummy, and you wondered– no, you knew that he could probably make you come in your fucking underwear.

But he didn't. Whether you were thankful for that or not, you weren't entirely sure. But he eventually, and rather torturously, pulled away for long enough to pull your underwear down your legs. He let it fling from your ankles, not caring where it landed, before he was pushing back between your legs once more.

This time, he licked a fat stripe up your cunt before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking. You cried out, a hand shooting down to grab hold of his hair, fisting it tightly as he laved his tongue over you. His mouth was hot, burning at your core, but your body had now been set alight– the flame of pleasure coursing through your veins, heating your body. Your legs trembled now, thighs flexing either side of his head, his facial hair scratching and tickling you all at once.

John's movements were quick. Quicker than you expected. He seemed desperate for it as he licked back down your cunt and stuffed his tongue into your hole– in and out, in and out– before curling and repeating the process. You moaned at his well-timed movements, never leaving you dissatisfied or overstimulated in the slightest. Price was amazing.

He kneaded the fat of your thighs as he ate you out, enjoying the softness of you around his head. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers, and one of the reasons he wanted you to quickly come on his tongue was so that he didn't bust a fat load in his fucking briefs. He couldn't handle that today. Not when he'd been waiting so long to have you.

"John," you moaned, stretching the syllables. Your hips bucked, his nose catching your puffy clit. You ground against him, moans bubbling from your throat as you tossed your head back. You rode his face, locking your ankles together at his back and anchoring yourself with one hand on the bed and the other in his hair.

He moaned in response, eyes on the way your body writhed above him. He loved the way you bucked up, wriggling in search of your coming high. Fuck, you looked gorgeous.

John screwed his eyes shut and focused on curling his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. He felt his cock twitch. If he looked at you again, he was sure he'd come.

You moaned sweetly above him, orgasm building tight in the base of your tummy. You continued rocking your hips, the mattress creaking quietly beneath you. But the sounds from your mouth, coupled with the wetness of Price's mouth on your pussy, was all that rang true in your ears.

"John, fuck– oh fuck, please–" You mewled, edging on a whine. Desperation was creeping in. You hurtled towards your high.

Then, you felt deep vibrations rock through your core (unbeknownst to you, John had mumbled a that's it, come for me, baby against your hole). The band of pleasure inside you snapped, and with one last push of your cunt into his face, you came.

You moaned John's name, head still tossed back as pleasure fizzled through you. Your thighs clamped down on either side of his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you came on his tongue. John happily buried himself deeper into your heat, tongue licking you slowly through your orgasm.

He had looked up, chanced it, and watched you come. He managed to hold on and not come in his briefs, but he could feel the front of them growing tacky with his precum.

A few moments later, ensuring your orgasm had been well wrung from your beautiful body, John withdrew from your cunt. He unbound himself from your legs and got to his feet as you blinked up at him, dazed and fuzzy.

"Feeling good, sweetheart?" John asked, gently and carefully guiding you further up the bed. You crawled with him until your head hit the pillows at the top of the bed and John knelt between your legs, his hands rubbing circles over your bare thighs.

"Yeah... good..." You replied lazily, eyes dropping down to where you could see John's cock straining in his trousers. The sight made you moan, and you attempted to sat up, but Price stopped you.

"Hold on, sweetheart..." He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of your head before helping you out of your top. In companionable silence, he discarded the garment and went to work unclipping your bra, letting your breasts spill out as he discarded that too.

He groaned, happily to himself, reaching forward to roll one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers, his other hand groping the opposite breast.

"Fuckin' beautiful..." He muttered, and then leaned forward to kiss you.

You tasted yourself on him as he guided you back down. A soft tang, a subtle sweetness in his saliva. You moaned, fingers once again moving to card through his hair and stroke the back of his neck, just above his shirt collar.

While you kissed, Price slipped one hand between you and unbuckled his belt. He let the belt hang open while he deftly unbuttoned his trousers and peeled them open just enough for him to reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He hissed into the kiss, his hand on his own achingly hard cock causing pre to dribble down his shaft.

"Fuck..." He muttered into your mouth, and you pulled back, shifting to look between you. The image of your bodyguard still dressed in his uniform, but with his thick cock hanging out, was a sight to behold. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the heat of your cunt coming within centimetres of the head of his cock.

Price moaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand to fist the base of himself while positioning his hips against yours. He ran the leaking tip, ruddy and flushed red from his arousal, through your soaked folds. At the same time, you both moaned.

"Oh my god," you breathed, still looking down. Price, eyes on your cunt, continued to smear pre along your slit, running his cockhead up and down, revelling in the way your arousal leaked around him.

"S'alright, pretty girl..." He uttered, not looking up from where he circled his tip around your hole. "S'alright... I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel good." Then, he finally looked up, eyes boring into yours. You felt your stomach flip as he smiled warmly. "That's what you need, isn't it, sweetheart?"

His words dripped mirth. You whined, knowing where he was going with this.

"Just so desperate for some cock, s'that it? S'that what's got you all riled up?" John poked fun at you, referencing your argument beforehand.

You gave in and nodded, shifting your hips and catching the tip of his cock against your entrance. It made both you and Price release sounds of pleasure, but he held strong, gripping himself at the base and pulling his cock away an inch.

"Use your words," he instructed, voice husky, ash-laced. "Use your fucking words, love. Tell me how desperate you are for my cock. How much of a fucking whore you are for it."

The unexpected degradation punched a moan from your lungs. You babbled, "Y-yeah, fuck– need your cock so bad, John, please."

"Yeah?" Price teased, running the head of his cock up and down your folds again. "You need this cock?"

He pushed the head of his cock into your hole, and you moaned, arching your back. But he stopped there, the flared tip of him laying dormant inside. Your cunt fluttered around him, arousal leaking down the curve of your arse. You whimpered, attempting to push your lips down onto him, but a firm swat to your thigh had you pausing in place.

"S'this the cock you need?" Price asked, voice dark. "Or 're you wanting t'get fucked by some stranger? Want one of the lads down at the pub to fuck this tight cunt? Eh, sweetheart? That's right, isn't it? Actin' like a fuckin' slut lookin' for a quick fuck–"

"No, no, no, please–" You said quickly, trying not to get distracted by the way Price's accent was strengthening as your cunt fluttered around his cockhead. "S'only you! Need you, John, please. Only need you 'n– fuck, only need your cock."

Price growled, pleased, having itched that jealous spot inside him. That's right, that's what he wanted to hear.

His good girl.

"That's fuckin' right, baby. Good girl–" John pulled out and then pushed back in, slowly parting your walls for the girth of his cock. You moaned and he leaned forward to kiss you, being as gentle as he could while splitting you open. He murmured against your lips, "That's a good girl. Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Doin' so well..."

The buckle of his belt clinked as John picked up his thrusts, stretching you apart on his cock. You could feel the bunched fabric of his trousers and briefs against you with each of his thrusts, and when he curled over you to kiss you, the feeling of his dress shirt and tac vest against your bare chest had a shiver rippling through you.

He kissed you hard, just as he had done in the hallway. This time, a bit of saliva did escape your mouth, rolling from the corner as you parted your mouth to moan, Price's tongue licking over your lower lip as the head of his cock punched up against the base of your cervix.

Just like everything else about him, the sex was hot. Price radiated warmth. The space between your bodies was heating up, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. Beneath his beard, Price's cheeks began to burn read, a bead of sweat trickling from his hairline. His hips moved quickly, but with precision, shunting you deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it squeak and groan.

His cock hit all the right places, too. Your walls hugged him, tight and hot and wet as he plunged up against your womb. John could feel you squeezing him. Feel the sheer hold you had on him, physically and otherwise. He grunted and groaned to himself, his balls already beginning to tighten, his lower back starting to strain from the effort.

"John..." You whined, second orgasm already fast approaching. You felt yourself beginning to tighten up again, your muscles pulling taut as the band of pleasure in the base of your abdomen began to expand. The drive of Price's cock was pulling it further and further. You were so close.

And when you were this close, John always seemed to know what to say and do to push you off the precipice.

Expertly, your bodyguard moved his arm downwards to press a couple of fingers to your puffy clit, rolling it beneath with a gentle stroke. He drew gentle circles that made you spasm beneath him, a panting moan filtering from your parted, spit-covered lips.

He continued the drive of his hips, cock hitting the best spot inside you. Bursts of light, of pleasure, appeared behind your fluttering eyelids, the intensity of it all making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. But you did– you forced your eyes open, lids drooping. You locked eyes with Price, and he smiled down at you in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but it only turned you on more.

"My sweet girl, just look at you," Price cooed, still slamming into you. "So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl, an' you look even prettier getting stuffed with my cock, don't you?"

You nodded, delirious now. You wanted nothing more than for him to come inside you and–

The thought made you moan loudly.

He chuckled. "S'that right?"

"John, fuck–" you moaned out. "Fuck, please–"

Come inside me, you wanted to beg him, but the tip of his cock at the plug of your womb and his fingers on your clit had your vision whiting out as the band in your stomach snapped again.

You came hard. Legs locked around his waist, the fat of your thighs and stomach rippling with his strong movements, you came. Arousal gushed out around his cock, the sensation forcing an unexpected whimper from you. The slick walls of your cunt clutched the girth of him, squeezing with each fluttering pulse of your erratic heartbeat. Fuzzy pleasure washed over you and, just like with his mouth, he stroked your clit through your orgasm and stopped right at the brink of overstimulation.

But you gained no mercy after coming.

John redoubled his efforts. With two strong arms either side of you, he rutted into you with renewed energy, now chasing his own high. His balls, almost painful at this point, smacked against the plush curve of your arse, with the head of his cock leaking inside you.

Oh fuck, he wasn't wearing a condom.

He knew you were on contraceptives. Of course. He knew almost everything about you now. But the thought–

"John–!" You all but sobbed, wriggling beneath him, becoming impatient. Not because you wanted it to end, but because you wanted him to end inside you. "John, please come inside me."

"Fucking hell," he grit out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of collapse.

Stuffing you full of him. Coming right up against your cervix, flooding your womb. Filling you out, watching you grow fat with his kid. Laying claim to you, how you were truly his. His pretty girl. His good girl.

Not today.

But the thought alone had Price coming.

"F-fuck, take it, sweetheart, jus'– fuckin good girl, take my cum, baby–" Price muttered, pumping his hips as he came. He filled you with the same kind of warmth he radiated. Comfort and security, maybe.

You moaned quietly once Price'd emptied himself inside of you, and you relaxed your legs so he could flop to the side. Cock still inside you, softening just a bit, Price curled you into him, his face resting in the crook of your neck, your legs entangled.

The two of you caught your breaths, breathing in each other's scent and the pungency of sex. Your eyes opened and closed lazily, the heat of Price's body lulling you to sleep. But you forced your eyes open when Price pulled back– only to change positions. His suit rustled as he pulled you in against him, and you wished you could run your fingers through the hair on his toned chest.

After a little while, you felt Price kiss the top of your head.

"Feeling alright, love?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Yeah," you replied. "More than alright. I... thank you."

"Thank you," Price said, nuzzling into the top of your head.

•º•º•

The two of you basked in each others company for what seemed like hours before a buzzing broke the haze of whatever dream you were living. Peeling yourself away from Price for a moment, you reached over to your discarded purse and fished your phone out, finding it alight with missed calls and messages from your friends.

You almost felt guiltly.

"Cancel," John grumbled below you, seemingly already knowing what you were looking at. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"

"No, 'm not feeling up to it," you said, smiling.

John, burying himself into the crook of your neck once more, arms wrapped securely around you, smiled too.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

this was the first long-ish fic i've written in a while so forgive me if it wasn't my usual best lolol. anyway thank you for reading and make sure to go check out the other @glitterypirateduck submissions for this writing challenge

lots of luv <3

#captainfern #captain john price #john price call of duty #price smut #captain john price x female reader #captain price smut #captain john price smut #captain john price x you #price call of duty #call of duty #cod smut #captain'snirvana

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appleblueberry-pie · 5 months

Text

YOU ARE EVERYTHING.

Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)

With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with its only purpose being to fire its trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.

He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.

He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.

I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.

You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.

Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.

About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.

It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.

You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.

Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.

Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.

But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.

If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.

When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.

And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.

He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?

He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?

He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.

He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.

All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.

But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.

You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.

You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.

.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.

".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.

Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."

You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.

Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.

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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months

Text

Danny was born as a Halfa

So! Jack and Maddie are a little More insane in this.

When studying Ghosts, they become convinced that the only way to defeat the Ghostly Threat is to make a Ghost of their own. One who will fight on their Side. And they do believe that a "Good Ghost" is Possible, but only if fused with a Human to balance out the "Inherent Evil".

So, when Maddie gets pregnant they take the opportunity to try and make one of these theoretical "Halfas" by testing on the Baby in the Womb.

Jazz if Born, and she is not a Halfa. She is merely an extremely Liminal Toddler, so Jack and Maddie consider the experiment a Failure. They raise Jazz as per usual, and then 2 years later Jack and Maddie try again.

They have Danny, and this time he is a True Halfa! They did it! Now all they have to do is turn the Baby into the perfect Weapon against Ghosts!

Danny is raised less like a Baby and more like a Weapon. His Parents still treat him well, and give him some amount of love, but there is never any doubt in his mind that his only purpose in Life is to be the perfect weapon against Ghosts.

The only person who really treats him like something more than a Weapon is Jazz, who likes to sneak into his Room and play with him when they parents are out of the House.

(Later addition: They also have Ellie as a Kid a few years later, but because they messed up the process she is not as Stable as Danny is. She is 4 years younger than he is)

Then, they day he had been preparing for his whole life comes. When he is 10, a Ghost manages to sneak through a Natural Portal into Amity Park, and the Fentons send him to go deal with it as his First Test Run.

But when he gets there, he doesn't find an Evil Ghost bent on killing everyone in town. He finds a Teenage Girl, with blue flaming Hair, crying to herself.

(Idk how long ago Ember died, so lets just assume she died around 6 years before Canon)

He doesn't attack immediately, and when the girl sees him she invites him to sit with her. Against his better judgement, he agrees and sits with her.

She talks to him for a bit, and eventually explained why she was crying. Apparently she only died a few weeks ago and had finally found her way back to the Living World, back home. But when she got there she found that nobody really cared about her Death.

She had died in a House Fire, and because she had spent her entire night waiting for her Boyfriend to show up for a Date, she was too tired to wake up in time to escape.

Her Parents had obviously mourned, but her supposed friends and her boyfriend had hardly cared. In fact, it turned out that her Boyfriend had stood her up because he was cheating on her. So she had run off into the Park and sat down to Cry about it, where Danny had found her.

And Danny is confused.

His entire life, he has heard that Ghosts are Non-Sentient Killing Machines. That they don't feel any emotion aside from Malice. That they aren't People.

But this Girl is as Human as anybody else he has ever known. Perhaps even More Human.

He decides to ignore The Fentons Orders, and lets her go back through the Portal she had come through.

When he gets Home, the Fentons are less than pleased. They are Livid in fact.

Their Perfect Weapon was a Failure after all! It's too much like a Ghost to ever side with the Humans! It's just another Spook!

And they know what to do with Spooks.

They lock him up in the Lab, and decide to cut him open Later to figure out what went wrong.

They'll be successful next time.

Thankfully, their jeers to Danny are heard by Jazz in the other Room, and she doesn't like this one bit. So that night, she takes Danny and Ellie with her and Runs away. They need to get out of Amity Park, out Illinois even. They run and run, sneaking onto Buses, hitchhiking, even jumping on Trains.

Eventually they end up in a place called Gotham City.

...

Ages at the end.

Jazz: 12

Danny: 10

Ellie: 6

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Danny is Born a Halfa #The Fentons are Bad Parents #The Fentons are even crazier #Jazz is a Liminal #Danny was born to be a Weapon #Ellie is Danny and Jazz's little sister #She was born a few years after Danny and was born with a Defect that makes her a bit more Unstable than Danny is #Not to the level of completely Liquifying #But she will begin to melt a little if she uses her powers for too long #Now which Character will find them?#A Bat? A Rouge? A Cop? A Civilian?#Maybe Jason?#Maybe Oswald?#Maybe the Commissioner?#Maybe Dr Thompkins?#Also Ember goes back to the Human Realm a few days later to visit her little friend and finds him missing #She overhears a pair of Angry Scientists talking about “turning that half abomination into a pile of spare parts” when they find him #She connects the dots #So now she is racing to find her little friend before those two Insane Scientists do

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avocado-writing · 7 months

Note

Ok this request might be a bit specific but can you write headcanons for halsin,astarion ,dammon karlach and lae'zel (feel free to add any other character if you want) when their petite partner comes back from fighting the god of death and suddenly they're towering over them? (It's temporary but they'll take advantage of the fact that they can carry halsin)

This happened to me in my play through, I kept trying to remove items from my inventory because I was slower and it wasn't until I came across halsin in the camp that I was like " hold on... Halsin why are you so tiny???" Then realised

LMAO i have never had this!!! do you change size during the myrkul battle? that's SO funny if so. gonna change the prompt to be a bit less specific, but will still include a size change! under a cut bc nsfw, minors dni

Astarion

your shadow falls over him. he looks up. and up, and up. "oh... darling. you've... grown."

you apologise and tell him that this is only temporary, but he really doesn't seem to mind it all that much.

sits in your lap and likes to feel very small, curling up like a cat. you can practically hear him purr.

when you go to bed that night, if you're intimate, he'll enjoy straddling you and feeling how wide his legs have to splay around your wide hips.

he falls asleep on top of you, like you're his giant pillow. it makes him feel safe and protected.

he's woken up when you're back to your usual size, slapping at him to move off you - he's crushing you!

Halsin

he feels relieved not to be the tall one for once. it's nice for him to look up at you!

"my, when you're this size, i can appreciate all of you so much more... see magnified what nature has blessed you with..."

if you're comfortable with your size he wildshapes into something small so that he can really enjoy how big you are. little cat halsin nestled in your huge shirt <3

pick him up and carry him to bed. he's thrilled.

when you lay together that night he labours over every lovely inch of you, musing in great detail about how wonderful you are, how he enjoys you feeling so large compared to him...

but the next day he is just as happy to have you back to your normal body. no matter how you look, you are perfect.

Karlach

like Halsin, she is so pleased to be the small one for a while.

keeps wanting to compare the size of her hand to yours. they're so big now! amazing!

can't stop giggling when you reach down to kiss her. likes it when you cup her face.

when you have sex, she's thrilled by how small she feels, how you can take control of her a bit physically.

afterwards she just lays there going. "wow. wow. WOW."

lets you know that she wouldn't mind a repeat performance...

Lae'zel

is confused, but you can see her try and hide a smile.

"an interesting development. is this permanent?" "it shouldn't be." "hmm. then we shall explore what it means later."

before you go to bed, she's pleased to have you slightly stronger in order to help her around the camp. you can hold her weapons and stuff for her while she sharpens them lmao

at night you can tell she's thrilled when she dominates you and you're this size. you're both even more exhausted than usual the next day, and she's just smug.

Dammon

you walk into his forge and start knocking stuff over accidentally

probably bang your head too...

he's so surprised and helps you get your bearings, asking what's happened.

you explain you took this elixir and in order to help him more in the forge... but now you're just causing a ruckus.

he smiles sweetly and brings you down for a kiss, reassuring you there's no problem and it was a sweet idea.

probably gets you to sit to the side and keep him company while he works though, he doesn't want you hurting yourself!

and bonus:

Gale

my man loves to be thrown around a bit. prove me wrong.

eyes light up when you walk in.

does a lot of experiments to test your altered strength. you suggest maybe you'd prefer to explore hypotheticals in the bedroom...

you pick him up and carry him, bridal-style, to the bedroom.

pin him against the wall and suck his cock until he's a whimpering mess...

you need a lot of aftercare for him because he becomes easily overstimulated but keeps asking for more. wears his massive love bites with pride the next day <3

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #gale x tav #gale x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #karlach x tav #karlach x reader #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel x reader #dammon x tav #dammon x reader #dammon bg3 x reader #my writing #request

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byunpum · 6 months

Note

Hi! Can u do a short Drabble with auntie sully giving everyone pizza for the first time?

AVATAR MASTERLIST

Note: I invite you to read all the parts of my " Auntie Y/N Sully" series so you can understand more about the relationship and the characters.

"Mom, when are auntie y/n and daddy coming back? I'm bored" speaks tuk, complaining next to his mother. She always used to be by your side at this time, but it had already been many hours. "Relax, they'll be right back," says neytiri, cutting up some food for that day's dinner. "ruk'e why aren't you with dad and aunt y/n?" asks tuk, looking at his uncle. Ruk'e laughs out loud, holding his child in his arms. "Ah ah not my type to go and be investigating, looking for trouble" refuses ruk'e, and it was very true. Ruk'e was a pacifist, he preferred to be taking care of home, taking care of his children. In fact… ruk'e was the one who used to stay behind to take care of all the children while you did the routine inspections, near the metkayina clan. This time neytiri decided to stay home and help ruk'e, she had hurt her rib a little. Something she didn't like, she liked to go with you and Jake to the routines.

Some time later, you can hear the voice of y/n and jake approaching. Both were pure laughter, while the little tuk got up running as fast as she could towards you. "Y/n" yells tuk, hugging you tightly. The little girl had grown so much, she was already much bigger than you. But she was still your little girl. Behind her, your children and nephews followed. Hugging you and asking how you were doing, very excited. "Hey…I'm here too" says Jake. "So yeah…hi daddy" says neteyam, looking quickly at jake, then looking at you. Causing you to laugh. The ride had been smooth, everything seemed to be under control. You asked Eywa every day to keep everything going smoothly, for the sake of your family.

During the investigation, you came across an abandoned boat. A ship that contained a lot of material, such as weapons, monitions, medicine and military food. Military food that you liked. You had a bag full of it, sitting next to your partner. Putting the bag aside, to hold your baby in your arms. "My y/n…we miss you" you look over and take your baby to your chest. She was already 1 year old, and a beautiful half human and na'vi baby. "She has eaten too much today" ruk'e says, giving you a smile. Kissing the crown of your head. "I'm glad you're okay, babe" ruk'e says. Looking curiously at the bag you had next to you. " Hey and what's up with that?" asks your mate. This gets the attention of your sons and nephews. Spider and rotxo quickly approach, and try to open the bag. While your other nephews and nieces, sit down next to you. Right next to their mother and father.

"Oh? That bag has precious food in it" you joke, but you speak with a lot of excitement. Jake makes a disgusted face. He didn't understand what you saw in that processed food. "Precious…food" neytiri speaks, a part of her was offended. She used to cook for the whole family, and you always said how well she cooked. Now she too was curious about what was in that bag. You hand your baby to your mate, taking the bag in your lap. You open it to take out the small brown bag. On the label it said "pizza". "That bag…it's ugly," says lo'ak, watching as you give him a dirty look.

"Listen…this was my favorite food on the base. They used to give out fresh food, but at night, they'd give out these bags of food. And I used to go eat them with trudy, while we talked about the day" you pause, remembering your friend. "Is that human food?" asks kiri, taking one of the bags that was in the suitcase. "Yes…a disgusting one. I don't know how you ate that," says jake, sticking out his tongue in disgust. If there was one thing he hated, it was that military stored food. "Don't say that…pizza and Mexican rice are the best" you joke, watching as jake continued to cringe in disgust. While everyone looked on curiously.

"Want to try?" you ask, noticing how your nephews face lights up. "ahhh NO!" says jake, taking tuk, in the air as the girl giggled. "If they eat that they will die" jake speaks, as kiri throws the bag on the ground. "Don't listen to him…this food is fine. Here" and yes you were right, this food was about 6 years away from expiring. You start handing a bag to each child. "Mom…how many meals do you have?" asks spider, noticing that there were more in the bag. You laugh, listening to Jake sigh. "'She took all of them,' says Jake.

"Ok….follow in my footsteps" you start explaining everything. All the children of the family started to follow you, even ruk'e joined in. Jake and neytiri just watched the show, while holding their niece in their arms. You open the package, and begin to take out the tortilla, the red sauce packet. The small package of mozzarella cheese and the pepperoni. The kids copy your every step, amazed by everything they were seeing. "Well, first they are going to take the dough, then carefully open the sauce packet" you speak, while you break the plastic with your mouth. "And after we put the sauce we put the cheese and then the pepperoni" you speak. Ruk'e laughs a little, while watching you prepare that strange food. You looked so excited and cute.

"And then you're going to throw that thing away" jake says, trying to take the pizza away from kiri. But you reach over and smack him upside the head. "Nooo, now they eat it" you take a bite out of it. Your nephews and sons hesitate for a moment, but take a small bite. Not like the pizza was big for them. Chewing and savoring the strange food for a bit. "mmm doesn't taste bad, but no…." Neteyam hesitates for a bit, and jake chuckles giving him a slap on his son's shoulder. "Are you serious? It's really good" says rotxo, while spider supported him with a mouthful of food.

The other kids only tried the pizza, so you ended up eating all of them. The more you ate, the more Jake got worried. "Sis…I know you love that disgusting stuff, but it's not good for you to eat so much," says Jake. You just roll your eyes, sometimes he could be a little over the top with you.

After a while, the whole family was getting along normally. But you were starting to get a lot of stomach aches. Complaining about the pain. "ma y/n…are you ok?" asks ruk'e, he had noticed how you were leaning more on him. "I'm fine…. is just aughh" you complain, touching your stomach. "Ja tell you so!" says jake, as the scared look on tuk'e's face began to draw. " Auntie y/n is going to die!!!" yells tuk. "I'm not going to die" you try to calm the little girl down. Ruk'e gets up from the floor, sighing in frustration. "Well, family see you later, I have to make some tea" speaks the man, as he helps you off the ground.

Behind his parents, were spider and rotxo who was carrying his little sister. "Let me know if you need anything" shouts neytiri from far away. Seeing how you were walking with difficulty due to stomach pain. "See I told you, that food is disgusting" speaks Jake. Neytiri laughs a little, she was sure it wasn't the food, but the amount you had eaten that caused your stomach pain.

Jake and the children went off to do other things, leaving Neytiri alone for a moment. She was going to go check on you, and help ruk'e. But before she got up, she noticed that there was a piece of pizza left over. Taking it for a moment and looking at it. She was going to try that strange food, she wanted to know why you liked this so much, even more than her food. Neytiri took a small bite, as the flavors touched her taste glands. Her ears perked up, and her tail began to wag with excitement. Oh my eywa, this was delicious. On the other hand, jake turned to ask neytiri something, but saw how she was chewing the pizza. "Ahh no no spit that out" runs jake towards neytiri, watching as she stands up laughing while he starts chasing after her.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 months

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it hurts me. the chaggie hurts me s o good

Vaggie having been such a great murder soldier (one of the best exorcists) (battalions worth of dead souls piled under her lost wings)

but Protect Charlie and Support Charlie became so important to her (the revelation of reaching out to strangers to heal hurts instead of causing them) she for real got out of practice with actual physical fighting bc she was busy helping Charlie with the emotional battles instead-

it feels so good.

it's such a big and happy difference, from vaggie the exorcist

she's fighting for her girl every time she holds Charlie's hand and it's NOT what she's trained for or is always good at, solving people problems without just stabbing anyone who hurts Charlie or gets in Charlie's way- soldier life bleeding through even when Vaggie tries so hard- (a life lived with the kind of people who would use cutting out someone's eye and ripping off their wings as a solution to a problem)

but she says herself she wants to be Charlie's ARMOR. she could have said spear, could have said she wants to be the blade that cuts through all Charlie's problems-

she doesn't want that. Amor, something that stays close, something not meant to hurt, something that isn't a weapon. not anymore

even if it (she) isn't used to that yet

and you know what. maybe that's what getting saved by Charlie actually meant.

Charlie didn't pull her down from heaven- she wasn't the reason that Vaggie looked at a kid in hell and couldn't go through with sticking a spear in them

but without Charlie, Vaggie could still have been a spear raised and redirected towards heaven. even after years in a peaceful life Vaggie still reaches for her spear so quick, how fast on the draw would she've been if Charlie wasn't there? hadn't been there?

(if kindness hadn't pulled her out of that alleyway, would the chance for revenge at the next extermination day have gotten Vaggie moving instead? would the first dead angel have been found years earlier- or would it have been her- a loose end that didn't unravel quietly getting neatly cut away?)

that didn't happen. Charlie was out looking to help people on extermination day. she did find Vaggie

and with Charlie, the spear is a prop more than anything else. part of Vaggie yes, probably forever- not a NEEDED one though. an old instinct always at the ready while not having to be used much anymore.

life with Charlie is Vaggie carrying a spear, sure.... and also growing out her hair. not being used to fighting with it long, because she hasn't had to be fighting

she's still been able to fight for girlfriend anyway

Charlie isn't asking power or wins from her. that's not what the princess of hells needs.

Charlie needs the hand that holds hers during a hard call with her dad, the hug waiting for her when she comes back after a bad day, the soft smile not judging her for telling herself stories when she's sad- likes that side of her, actually-

the woman who knows every embarrassing personal thing about Charlie because Charlie trusted her not to make fun of it, trusted that Vaggie loved her

Charlie needs the push of Vaggie's words telling her it's time to make that hard call to her dad in the first place, the later unshakable reassurance from Vaggie when Charlie breaks down crying before the battle (breaking down over not being able give Angel Dust the better life she promised, everyone in even more danger now instead)

and Vaggie (pragmatic, realistic, honest Vaggie) does not tell her that things will be okay and they'll win their upcoming fight- but that Charlie has already done so much.

if for no one else, then at the very least for Vaggie

Charlie really has, hasn't she. 'just' by seeing Vaggie as a person she saved her from being nothing but a soldier, a weapon, the hair trigger response of someone who learned trust on a battle field and had her body torn and scarred by the people she trusted-

but now Vaggie does the worst damage to the people who hurt her when she holds her girlfriend's hand. she grumbles but gives people chances, often stressed but just as often smiling in her new life with Charlie. she goes back up to HEAVEN (even though she really really doesn't want to) because her girlfriend takes her hand and askes her with big soft eyes and says they're partners- it's such a change from being a soldier following orders.

partnership is all Charlie's asking for

and fucking HELL if Vaggie hasn't answered by being there in the darkest moments, tugging Charlie gently back into the light of their shared dreams and the reality of having someone there to share them with

and uh, also getting charlie to call her dad

....and.... yeeting random lit bombs out the nearest new hole in their hotel, when someone hands it to her gf and charlie gets sidetracked trying to politely juggle the thing...

.....

how DID charlie manage before she equipped the smol spear gf??

#habin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #hmmmm gay thoughts hmm #deep down vaggie will probably always kinda wanna stab ppl #BUT #holding the gf's hand is more fun~

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artemismoorea03 · 1 year

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DP x DC or Marvel: The Help of The Dead

I won't lie this could work for either

When Phantom joined the team almost everybody had the same thought; "He's just a kid, how could he help?"

They insist on protecting him in fights, especially when he makes it clear more than once that he wont fight living humans. So when it comes to armies of people they have to deal without the child on the battlefield, which is fine by them. One lest child on the front lines is one less ass to save when shit hits the fan.

But then one day that suddenly changes.

An evasion with scales unlike anything they had ever seen before which is saying something. Together the teams had fought countless battles but in that moment things seemed truly like they were too much.

Until Phantom finally clapped, jumped off the table. "These aren't living humans right?"

They weren't human, far from it. The team had mentioned this more than once but it was hard to tell if he was just double checking or if he hadn't been paying attention to anything.

"Great. Pull the team back, I got it."

"You really don't expect us for you to fight this alone, do you?" Superman or Captain America would ask as Phantom just laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous, who said I would be doing it alone. Now pull them back. I won't say it again." Then Phantom simply vanishes.

The orders are given, timidly but their given. Moral of the people left in the 'danger zone' drops and things seem to drastically change when a massive green cloud begins to swirl in the sky before ripping open into a portal that sends chills down the spines who see it.

The heroes fear it's a second wave or some kind of superweapon going off, but then a figure flies out, does a flip and strums a guitar.

"HELLO, WORLD! WELCOME TO THE SHOW! FOR THE BASTARDS TRESSPASSIN' I SUGGEST YOU GET CRUISIN' BEFORE YOU GET ONE HELL OF A BRUSIN!"

The team is confused until the portal explodes, a large mass of things fly out filling the sky blocking out the sun to the city. The heroes panic, the heroes don't know what to do. But the mass isn't attacking, in fact there's a wave of movement until who shows up at the front of the lines, a regal cape, a flaming crown and a glowing ice covered ring.

"Phantom." Nobody knows who breathes the name when they all realized what was happening.

Phantom simply waves his hand, a green megaphone forming out of thin air as he speaks into it.

"Attention invading forces. You have trespassed on territory claimed by the King of the Dead. You were given your chances to leave, and since you chose to stay then this must mean you have enjoyed your visit and wish to make your stay permanent. Don't worry, we'll help you with that. If you wish to leave, now is your chance. Either evacuate or drop your weapons of we will drop you."

The invading forces refuse, hell they even go so far as to scoff at the idea. Phantom simply shrugs then gestures to the one with the guitar, as she begins to play again and Phantom bops around for a second before he holds up his hand.

"By the order of the King of Death you are here by to protect the living souls of this world and destroy any who are not human, animal, or under our protection. There will be no ransacking, no obsession chasing, and no harming of the living. This is the decree now... take out the trash."

The slaughter is over before the one with the guitar finishes her third song. Two days of fighting over in less than nine minutes with no human lives lost in the attack, more captured enemies than dead, and without Phantom having to lift a finger.

The team is surprised, not only was Phantom working for the King of the Dead but the Army of the Dead was fuckin' terrifying. When Phantom was confronted with this information later, he simply laughs, shrugs and says;

"What can I say? Sometimes you have to let the kids outside to play or they'll go stir crazy."

"Why didn't you fight?" Another one of the heroes would ask as Phantom looked at them.

"You heard the decree, didn't you. 'No obsession chasing', my obsession is 'Protection'. I stayed back because if I was involved I would have probably caused more damage then our enemies."

After what the heroes had seen... this threat was terrifying.

Suddenly they realized that Phantom did help - by staying back - and the day he was actively in the fight...

Not even the mysterious 'King of the Dead' would be able to save the souls who went against Phantom.

#dp x dc prompt #dc x marvel prompt #kinda #it works for both #op Danny Phantom #let my child be a menace to society #Ember providing the battle music is just a fun little detail #my prompts #dc x dp prompt

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oh-no-its-bird · 21 days

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You know how when you spend a lot of time moving— on a boat, on a plane, in a car. Or doing a repetitive activity— dancing, skating, gymnastics; Later that night you can still feel the pull of movment?

You'll lay there and feel your body sway as it tries to keep it's balance through the remembered lull of tide and turbulance; Or close your eyes and imagine yourself falling into a spin in a way that feels so viscerally real that for a moment you can even feel the vertigo of going that fast. The movement so ingrained into your body and consciousness that you find yourself falling back into it whenever your mind quiets and your body falls still.

So anyways that but for Tobirama and Izuna's fighting. They've fought eachother since they were children, they know eachothers moves moves like the back of their own hands. After so many years it's such a familiar dance that when they go home and close their eyes, they can still feel their bodies being pulled into the well practiced movements. They remain still but can feel the way their hands fly through seals so viscerally that they have to be careful not to accidentally start cycling chakra.

Or they'll feel the familiar push and pull dance of battle so strongly that their muscles twitch as they're tricked into thinking they're still moving. The phantom pains and patterns of the fight they know so well

"I could fight you in my sleep" taken to it's extreme, it's quite possible that they could fall into the familiar and fight eachother in their sleep

Actually running with that, I think one of them should be a sleep walker but like. Instead of just walking around they start to phantom fight the other in familiar movements.

Where's my fic where Izuna sleep fights an imagined Tobirama I need that on my desk immediatley. Madara worriedly watches over his brother but, having read somewhere that its unwise to wake sleepwalking up (especially so when they're activley holding a weapon lmao) he just kinda. Watches over him. And after a couple times of this happening he starts to recognize a pattern in Izuna's movements, and after a little longer still he realizes Izuna is tracing through the same battles

Just a short thing of Madara idly watching his brother sleep fight, piecing together bits and pieces ab thus person he's fighting through the cues of how Izuna defends and attacks against them

Later for whatever reason, probably later in peace time, I need Tobirama and Madara to have a spar. And at first it's going kinda whatever, they're both very talented, but then Madara kinda gets a brain itch and remembers those sleep fights he'd always see Izuna moving through. And without even thinking ab it, he flawlessly replicates one of the moves exactly where Izuna would have (thanks sharingan)

And like. Ok so if this is an Izuna died canon compliant thing, Tobirama instinctivley reacts how he would with Izuna then probably goes dead white and immediatley loses the fight bc hes thrown off so fucking hard he can't compute

And if it's an Izuna lives you get kind of the same reaction but minus the angst. So Tobirama is totally thrown off, and his movment kinda just. Stutters. He mindlessly slides into continuing to try to react like he would to Izuna, this muscle memory that's so ingrained into him that he could quite literally do it in his sleep. But Madara isn't Izuna, so when he flips back into fighting like himself, Tobirama just totally fucks himself over

Madara almost fucking beheads him by going for the head in an easily blockable move when Izuna would have immediatley gone for his side instead, and so Tobirama instinctivley defends his side

He gets yelled at for that one but is too busy laying on his back staring up at the sky with a deeply offended, shocked and confused expression to hear any of it

Tobirama's one true infallible weakness: He's so used to fighting Izuna that if you manage to replicate Izuna's style of fighting in the right way and trick his muscle memory into flipping that switch, you can totally fuck him up and over

Anyways, Madara, who can replicate Izuna's moves bc smthn smthn sharingan and having seen him do that sleep fight against Tobirama so many times, using this as an excuse to drag Tobirama into tons of training matches where he absoloutley beats his ass. And Tobirama letting this happen bc holy shit he needs to be trained out of that bad habit

It goes both ways tho too, if someone does that to Izuna but w Tobirama's moves then he's FUCKED. Luckily no one can replicate the way he fights nearly well enough to do that, and Izuna's also aided by the fact that Tobirama is really tall so the pool of people who might be able to pull it off right is narrowed down even further bc your height and weight absoloutley effects the specific angle of how you fight and their blades might meet

Ohhh actually maybe that could be a thing too. Someone replicates Tobirama's style of fighting and fights Izuna, and Izuna keeps getting tripped up bc these are Tobirama's moves but they aren't coming from the right angle or with the right amount of force

Anyways that's ur word vomit for the day time to clock out 👍

#birds fic talk #naruto #i think the effect itself is really interesting actually #very offputting when it happens the first time tho #tobirama senju #senju tobirama #izuna uchiha #uchiha izuna #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #naruto founders

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magicalqueennightmare · 9 months

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The Originals

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Rebekah takes you to meet her brothers

This was insane, you were actively avoiding going to the place you could call your own. You were back to crashing in hotels and the nearest couch or your nova. Why, one may ask? You weren't trying to avoid Rebekah, technically.

You'd answer her calls and even her texts. If you were being honest the two of you had actually developed a pretty good friendship since you met. She wasn't the problem. The problem was your vampiric friend wanted you to meet her family. Rebekah was one thing, while you knew she was dangerous she'd never made a move against you and had never even asked to be invited into your home.

Her brothers on the other hand? She'd told you stories about them. Klaus was a hybrid, vampire and werewolf. He had also daggered her numerous times for going against his wishes. What if he decided to simply kill you then dagger her until she got over it? Against any other vamp you'd bet on yourself but an original? And a hybrid at that? Yeah you were scared. As for Elijah she'd said he was calmer than Klaus on most things but that his beast was just better hidden beneath tailored suits and a charming smile. Kol was a wild card, Rebekah had said even she had a hard time reading his temperament at any given moment.

So your plan was to stay away from New Orleans for a few weeks. Who knows, maybe you were just a new shiny toy and she'd get tired of you? Unfortunately you hadn't planned on Garth calling you to take care of a ghoul problem in Chalmette which was about twenty minutes outside of New Orleans.

Which meant you were now heading on the road to Chalmette in hopes to take care of the problem before Rebekah realized you were nearby again.

You walked slowly into the door of your apartment. You were sore as hell and your torso was bruised but all in all you'd fared well going against a pack of ghouls solo. You'd never heard Garth curse before you called to tell him that it had indeed been a pack, not a couple of ghouls. He'd apologized profusely but you'd told him it wasn't a big deal, you'd made it through just fine. Kyle was now black listed from hunting for failure to give accurate information but that was well deserved.

Being hurt meant you had no choice but to go home. No hotel would be comfortable enough. You dropped your bags next to the door and locked it. A hot shower was due then you wanted to crash for a few hours.

—-----------------

You had just laid across your bed when your phone rang. You snatched it off the nightstand and glanced at the screen, Rebekah. “Hello?” You laid back amongst the pillows as her voice hit your ears “Are you back in town yet?” You nodded and then said “Yeah, just got back but I'm crashing for the next however many hours I can manage” “What was it?” She asked “Pack of ghouls” “Savage little creatures aren't they? I'll leave you to rest but I'm coming by tomorrow. We're going shopping then you're coming by my place with me”

“Rebekah..” you tried but she cut you off “They'll be on their best behavior, I promise. Bring weapons if you need to feel safer” you let out a breath then said “Ok. Just make it later tomorrow so I can sleep in?” “Of course” with that she hung up so you plugged your phone in and was asleep almost time your head hit the pillow.

You walked behind Rebekah feeling the nerves roll through your stomach as you looked around at the house. It was in the center of the french quarter and nothing short of elegant. It had a fucking courtyard for Christ's sake. Now you were feeling twice as out of place as you did before. Not only were you a human and a hunter walking into the home of the Original vampires but you were poor too. Hunting wasn't exactly lucrative, you got by on a card that was attached to a bank account in Sweden that a friend had set up by removing money from some very bad people.

She looked back at you and smiled “Come on now, don't lurk in the doorways. Klaus enjoys doing that enough for all of us” you plastered a small smile onto your face all the time wondering what the hell were you doing.

—--------------

She led the way into the sitting room. You swallowed down the nerves in your stomach to see only one man inside. At least it was just one of her brothers?

He glanced up when the two of you walked in but did a double take when he noticed you “Sister, what have you dragged home?” You spun towards him at that comment “Excuse me?”

You saw the hint of a smile pulling at his lips “Oh I like this one” Rebekah laughed lightly “Easy Kol. She may hurt you human or not” he eyed you for a moment then nodded and offered his hand “Nice to meet you” you shook his hand “I'd like to say the same but we'll see won't we?” a laugh escaped him at that “I see why you like her. Klaus and Elijah should be back anytime. Let's see how they like your little hunter”

—----------------

He left the room after that something about having a date so you turned to look at Rebekah “If your brothers kill me I'm going to find a way to haunt you the rest of your life and considering you're a vampire that's a very long time” she laughed lightly “I promise I'll make sure you have a way to haunt me” “Not very promising there Rebekah”

You heard a man's voice calling her name and felt the tattoo on your shoulder twitch. The two men that walked into the room were nothing short of gorgeous.

One had lighter colored hair, cut short that was almost curly in places. He was wearing jeans and a henley with blue eyes watching your every movement. You'd be willing to bet money on that one being Klaus.

That meant the other was one Elijah. He had darker hair, styled perfectly. He was wearing a suit that was obviously made for him and hugged his shoulders deliciously. Brown eyes held your gaze.

“Rebekah?” You spoke after a moment looking over at her. She smiled then did the introductions between all of you.

“So this is the hunter you've been spending time with” Klaus acknowledged walking over to where you stood. Your mind was screaming to step back, give room between yourself and this man. The hybrid. You knew though that space wouldn't do any good if he meant you harm and besides if he chose to kill you, the last thing you did would not be to cower. He stared you down for a moment and you felt the urge to drop your gaze, to show some kind of submission but you refused to give in to it. Even if it caused a throbbing just behind your eyes.

After a moment a smile split his face “Oh she is something indeed isn't she?” He looked amused and that was when it hit you, the urge to submit. He'd been trying to compel you and you hadn't given in. The surprising part was his amusement at that fact.

He stepped aside and that was when you realized Elijah's eyes were now focused on you. You fought the urge to squirm under his attention. He was absolutely gorgeous, a sculpted jawline and a smile that flickered to his lips with a capability to make the strongest knees go weak. Damn, were you attracted to a vampire? To Rebekah's oldest brother at that?

He studied you much the same way Kol and Klaus had. “Must be strong magic infused in that tattoo of yours if Niklaus failed to compel you” you shrugged “My line of work I can't exactly leave my neck open as an appetizer. I have an anti possession tattoo as well along with a few others that give me some protection from different odds and ends of the supernatural world”

He nodded slowly “I must say my sister has the strangest taste in companions” without much thought process you did the thing you always did which was to allow yourself to be as surprised at what came out of your mouth as everyone else around you was “Well I mean with brothers like the lot of you she needs a different flavor of crazy every now and then as a break”

Klaus and Rebekah exchanged a look out of the corner of your eye as all three vampires went still before laughter broke out of them all “She does fit in well doesn't she?” Elijah asked Rebekah then turned to you “You're welcome in our home and you have my word no harm will fall to you inside these walls” you smiled “Thank you” he nodded then looked at Klaus “Come Niklaus we still have business to attend to”

Before he left Elijah shook your hand “Pleasure to meet you” you watched him walk out along with Klaus and felt Rebekah at your side before she whispered “Please tell me you're not checking my brother out” You cut your eyes at her “I wasn't” she raised an eyebrow “For a hunter you're a terrible liar at times” you shook your head then motioned around “Well show me around the place!”

Governor's Ball

#elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction

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randoimago · 2 months

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Self Indulgent Thingy I wrote! Zevlor, Rolan, and Dammon Reacting to Reader (or S/O, relationship isn't clarified) Interacting with the Children at the Grove.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Note(s): Self Indulgent thingy. Idk what brought this up (I think it was just me wishing there was more cute interactions with the tiefling kids)

Dammon

Dammon has shooed the kids away from trying to mess with his tools or convincing him to forge them tiny daggers. He's a bit concerned with how bloodthirsty some of them are.

Thankfully, you're around the next time one of them walks over. You're quick to distract the child so he can keep working. Except he finds himself more distracted.

He smiles to himself when he hears you talking to the child about what weapon they wanted Dammon to forge. Something of dragon bone that shoots fire. The thought amuses him, but hearing you adding on and making grand gestures as you play along (he hopes you're playing along) causes his heart to skip a beat.

Rolan

He's had the tykes pestering him about "magic tricks" (which he acted annoyed about but he enjoyed the attention). So seeing you with the kids, he watches in amusement as he wonders what they'll rope you into.

And he finds himself continuing to watch. Sure, he could've looked away when his curiosity was sated. But seeing you laughing with them, just playing with the little buggers, it's like it rewrites his brain chemistry.

"Ooh does someone have baby fever?" Lia teases from behind him and Rolan is quick to retort with something clever that he barely thinks up. He'll contemplate and think too deeply about her jab later. He's just glad his sister took his attention away before you noticed his lovesick staring.

Zevlor

Keeping the grove safe is always priority number one. Especially keeping the children happy and not letting them realize how cruel the world can be.

Zevlor is speaking in some hushed voices to Asharak as he listens to how the training is going but also listening to how the kids that participate in training are doing.

His eyes roam the grove, always vigilant and alert, when they land on you kneeling down and talking to Doni. Zevlor can't stop the smile that drifts onto his face as he watches how patiently you speak to the boy, but also doing your best to let him attempt to communicate back. Asharak has to clear his throat to get Zevlor's attention back, something that flusters the older tiefling, but he resumes his role as leader. Even if his mind does drift to the thought of you with kids.

#dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #bg3 dammon x reader #bg3 rolan x reader #bg3 zevlor x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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remidyal · 7 months

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What is Fig Doing? - Mechanical Discussion edition

So! I know a lot of people who watch D20 are relatively new to DnD, or may not have much experience with the game itself at all, and as a lover of exploring weird and mechanically ineffective multiclasses I thought I might dive in in advance of whatever the hell Emily's about to do to Fig's character sheet following episode 7. Spoiler alert: Weird it may end up being, but this is absolutely NOT going to be anything like an ineffective multiclass.

First, here's Fig's character splash screen as of episode 7:

In addition to the information shown here, we know that she's currently subclassed into a Hexblade patron and into being a Lore bard. The Lore bard part is less important, but Hexblade is an incredibly common subclass for multiclassers into warlocks and might actually be the most common multiclass subclass in the entire game for reasons we'll get into.

There is a very small elephant in the room: Multiclassing into or out of Barbarian would, by the rules as written, require 13 strength; multiclassing into or out of Paladin requires 13 strength and 13 charisma. The charisma Fig has in spades, but she's short on strength, and in fact I would actually argue that Fig's overall stats are the worst of the entire party - she has a whole lot of 0s or +1s, where most everyone else either has multiple +3s or higher or has almost all +2s past their primary. However, the multiclass requirements have been consistently ignored in Dimension 20 as a whole and have been ignored in Fantasy High in particular in the case of Gorgug going into Artificer back when he was at 8 int; I think it's safe to say that if Fig/Emily wants to add Paladin and/or Barbarian that either they'll move around stats to allow for it or just ignore the requirement, because that strength stat is, in fact, completely irrelevent to this build.

So let's get to the meat of this: There is almost no combination of bard, paladin, and warlock that Fig could end up with that is not going to be an incredibly effective build, as long as she has pact of the Hexblade and is at at least two levels of Paladin for access to Smite (the first level of paladin gets her almost nothing). There are some that are going to be better than others, but mostly it's going to reflect different strengths and focuses, and the reason for this is this little section of the Hexblade level 1 abilities:

The influence of your patron also allows you to mystically channel your will through a particular weapon. Whenever you finish a long rest, you can touch one weapon that you are proficient with and that lacks the two-handed property. When you attack with that weapon, you can use your Charisma modifier, instead of Strength or Dexterity, for the attack and damage rolls. This benefit lasts until you finish a long rest. If you later gain the Pact of the Blade feature, this benefit extends to every pact weapon you conjure with that feature, no matter the weapon’s type.

Fig is a one-trick pony, statwise. Being a hexblade allows everything she would want to do in combat across all of these classes to use that trick. She'll have dials she can tweak across the three classes, and they're going to impact just what she can do, but if she's really decided to leave being a Bard behind it wouldn't surprise me to see her ditch Bard levels for Paladin and Warlock ones over the course of the season.

For those dials, one key thing to consider is the spell slots she'll have, which are WEIRD to calculate for any warlock multiclass with another caster. For every other caster class in the game, there is a pool of spell slots that go up as you level any of them that refresh on long rests. Warlocks, however, have a seperate pool from any of those, so her warlock spell slots are seperate and refresh on short rests. If she stays at level 2 in warlock, this pool will be two slots of first level. If she levels in warlock, the level of these spell slots go up but the number of them doesn't (unless she somehow were to end up at level 11, when warlocks finally get a third slot.)

The paladin and bard combo is a little simpler to look at - she's going to have spell slots from the table that a primary caster would have at the level equal to her bard level plus half her paladin level. Just as an example, let's say she by the next combat were to drop two bard levels for two paladin ones and she were to end up 7 bard/2 paladin/2 warlock. She would end up with the two warlock first level spell slots that refresh on short rests, and 7 + .5*2 = level 8 from the primary caster spell slot table. (4 1sts, 3 2nds and 3rds, 2 4ths). A very deep pool for using Divine Smites - a full paladin wouldn't be able to match this until level 16, and that's not even counting the warlock first level spells!

Key level breakpoints that might be worth looking at: At level 5 of Paladin, she would have multiple attacks; at level 6 Paladin gets one of the best abilities in the entire game, an aura where she and allies within 10 feet get her charisma mod as a bonus to ALL saving throws. In Fig's case this is an absolutely incredible +5 - at their level, this is a bigger boost than being proficient is! If she really wants to guard her president, this would allow even Kristen to have a +2 on dex saves! I'm not certain I could overstate how good this ability is in general; with a +5 it's completely insane.

She can also get multiple attacks through either Bard or Warlock, but neither is automatic. For Warlock, she would have to choose to take Pact of the Blade at level 3 (warlocks have, somewhat confusingly, two more-or-less subclasses, and Hexblade and Pact of the Blade are in fact different things) and Brennan has been HEAVILY hinting at wanting her to take Pact of the Chain so that Baby can be a class feature instead. She'd then have to get to level 5 in warlock and take the Thirsting Blade eldritch invocation, which are sort of little bonus powers warlocks get. I think this is the least likely path to multiple attacks but it is there. (Mechanically, while it's all still fine, I also think leveling warlock would be the worst of the three in a three-class build.)

Bard CAN get multiple attacks at level 6 but Fig would need to change subclasses to either Swords (which is what Fabian is) or Valor (which is, frankly, a worse version of what Fabian is, though it's still fine.)

Getting multiple attacks is a really big deal - Paladins can smite multiple times per round, and given being able to lay on mid to low level spell slots for ages Fig would likely want to.

I have no idea what Oath Fig would pick for a paladin if she gets to level 3, but honestly the level 3 subclass features for Paladin are mostly not that big a deal; she'd need to get to level 7 for the subclass aura for it to really matter all that much.

You'll notice I haven't been talking much about Barbarian above. If Fig dips into Barbarian mechanically at all, it's almost certainly just for one level given how spread thin she might be. This is a level she won't get any spell slots for, but she will get two rages per day, which will add 2 to damage rolls if Brennan allows it (technically it wouldn't apply normally because it does specify only to rolls made for attacks using strength) but much more importantly will halve quite a lot of incoming damage - bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing damage, more or less all of the physical attacks in the game.

Barbarian is a massively bad combination with caster classes in general because you can't concentrate on spells or cast them while raging; there's been a lot of in-character noise made about Gorgug's multiclass being unique and a bad fit together for exactly this reason. The exception to this, as Porter demonstrated to Fig in their last scene together, is that Smiting things is burning through spell slots but is NOT casting and you CAN do it while raging.

So, if by the end of the season, we see some wild 6 Paladin/5 Bard/2 Warlock/1 Barbarian build, know that it's going to be an absolute menace. And if Fig and Gorgug keep trending the directions they are, where she's adding heavy hitter abilities and he's shedding Barbarian levels for Artificer ones, don't be surprised if on the last boss she's the one up on their face and he's casting spells next to Adaine or casting the key Revivify.

#fhjy #fhjy spoilers #figueroth faeth #gorgug thistlespring #fantasy high #mechanical discussion #dimension 20

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