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diejager · 1 year ago

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Cougar monster reader in heat with the boys

~🧋

Cw: implied smut, heat/mating cycle, musk/scent kink, teasing, tell me if I missed any.

It had snuck up on them, like a feline in prowl, stalking from the shadows and only making itself known when it pounced, striking with ferocity and danger. The signs were subtle, sneaking under their nose when they were around you. They were easily forgotten, something that went past their heads without so much as an ounce of concern because it could easily be mistaken for another thing.

The slight change of scent on your skin, sweeter than usual, but unsurprising when your arrival was so turbulent, changing scents crashing over them like waves, switching between sweet and sour, bitter or salty. The perspiration that clung to your skin, smelling of sea salt and musk, was easily mistaken for exhaustion, sweat that collected from your hours spent at the gym, lifting, pressing and sparring. And your fidgeting wasn’t as abnormal as it was, you were a solitary animal and being introduced to a crowded Task Force made you anxious.

It went without any trouble - much trouble, since you were often struggling with how touchy and open they were - for another week before those subtle signs grew, blaring a bright red in their faces. It hit them in the face with a hard slap, shocking them like a bucket of freezing water would, and your change had them struggling and worried.

Your scent was cloying, overly sweet in your frustration, hauntingly seductive and taunting, calling to them with every small sniff of your musk. The perspiration they once chalked up to sweat from exercise was now connected to the heat that brewed in your guts, a boiling fire that caused your temper to flare. Then your fidgeting had grown to affection and noise, you yowled lowly, purrs rumbling out of your throat, small feline sounds that confused most that weren’t familiar with one; and you were touchy, running your hands over their arms, clinging to them with flickering ears and a swaying tail, fluttering your lashes with wide and dilated pupil.

“You’re in heat, Hunter,” Horangi bemoaned, his nose scrunched up under his mask, willing - and failing - his body to stop reacting to you. He had formed a bond with you, and succumbing to your teasing and obvious signs of courtships would probably break away all the effort he put in to know you, find a way into your heart as much as you did with his mind, body and soul.

“Need you, ” you mewled, nuzzling the crook of his jaw, nose running down his glands and nipping at him, your wet lips trailing kisses up and down his throat, “It’s too hot. Frustrating.”

Your persistence was cracking his wall. Your small, kitten licks, the gentle nicks of your sharp canines and the rumbling of your purrs where weakening his resolve, coupled with wandering hands and the curl of your tail around his, wrapping himself around you like a snake, he was a prisoner of his own body and needs. He was so close to throwing all his self-restrain out the window, to pin you against the floor and growl in your face, forcing you to bend and fold to his whims in the middle of the TF’s rec room. Horangi wanted to fuck you, his mind running circles with crazed thought of breeding you here and then, filling you up until he leaked out of you and was sure he’d knocked you up.

“Horangi,” you pawed at him, your hot breath hitting his bobbing Adam’s apple, feeling his patience thinning and thinning.

You would be the death of his restraint and patience.

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#cod mw2 #x reader #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #horangi #horangi x reader #horangi mw2 #monster 141 #monster 141 au #monster cod au #Cougar hybrid!reader #Puma hybrid!reader #heat #mating cycles/in heat #implied smut

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mad-hunts · 6 months ago

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CHARACTER AESTHETIC.

𝐁old / italicise what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lilies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meat-pies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / rice-cakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandalwood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / sea cucumbers / peppermint

tagged by: @divingdownthehole! (thank you :D) tagging: @sillyjokes, @sifonie, @smilingmxsk, @fartemis-crock, @volucerrubidus, @katarinawilliams, and anyone else who might like to complete this!!

#OF MONSTERS AND MEN: musings.#ooc post.#rp memes.

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tarot-muses · 5 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂.

𝐁old /italicize what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / Spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / labored breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / Gregorian chants / mournful cries

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in Venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

burnt leaves / Turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rain-soaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lilies in spring / pollen /damp clothes / meat-pies/ greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement/ rice-cakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandalwood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / sea cucumbers / peppermint

Tagged by: @archaievist

Tagging: @prcdator (for dutch, if you please), @stclker, @purityadmired <3

#ｉｘ．ＴＨＥＨＥＲＭＩＴ_ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ－ｐｓｉ #ｏｏｃ.#．ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

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jesse-vaudry · 6 months ago

Text

CHARACTER AESTHETIC.

𝐁old /italicise what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

Tagged by: @rcguevariant

Tagging: Anyone who'd like to 🌟

#dash games #headcanons

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archaievist · 6 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂.

𝐁old /italicize what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time/ freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead/ tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails/ strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in Venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

burnt leaves / Turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay/ sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rain-soaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lilies in spring / pollen /damp clothes / meat-pies/ greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement/ rice-cakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandalwood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / sea cucumbers / peppermint

Tagged by: @divingdownthehole

Tagging: @ymirgel @tarot-muses (psi) @ofrageandruin @recitedemise

#i love games!: memes

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sillyjokes · 6 months ago

Text

CHARACTER AESTHETIC.

𝐁old / italicise what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

Filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

Tagged by @mad-hunts

#character aesthetics;

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rcguevariant · 6 months ago

Text

CHARACTER AESTHETIC.

𝐁old /italicise what applies.

━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒

━━ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒

━━ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

Tagged by: @fartemis-crock

Tagging: @bothsidesofaquestion @biblicallyaccuratemcu (Caly& Bucky) @cinemachaos (Remy & whoever else you want) @alwaysxinxtrouble (Remy) @jesse-vaudry @ragin-cadjin and whoever else wants to

#aesthetics #headcanons #dash games

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bigdsgirl · 1 year ago

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the PIs are my CLOY boys!!!!!! i am rolling, this is hilarious.

"I tried their food for research purposes."

TOP NOTCH SERVICES!!

#kdrama #crash landing on you #queen or tears #i am cackling #this is hilarious

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sebastianswallows · 2 years ago

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Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 10 — Kisses in the garden

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: As the title implies, kisses, and cloying sweetness.

— WORDCOUNT: 2.8k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

The ink dried on his quill several times as he struggled to find the words. He felt nervous and uncomfortable and was angry at himself for it.

“I shouldn’t be gone longer than three weeks.”

No, too revealing in case it fell into the wrong hands.

“I shall inform you in advance before I return.”

No, too subservient to Burke.

“Will tell you more if and when relevant.”

Perfect.

But it was then that he realised he didn’t have an owl with which to send the letter. He could apparate to somewhere near The Three Broomsticks again, but he didn’t wish to stray far anymore, in case the Aurors were still tracking him. He then thought of their neighbour, the witch Berta… Maybe she had an owl.

Sebastian went to look for his host and inquire about it, but she wasn’t anywhere inside. This left only one option. He followed the sound of chikens and found her outside in the back garden. She sat in a wide rocking chair, mending a pillowcase, with the tall grass growing like a sea at her ankles and the hens and rooster clucking gently all around.

He smiled as he watched her, his hands in his pockets, and didn’t say a word until she noticed he was there. She sensed more than heard him approach.

“Oh, you nearly frightened me,” she laughed.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “You looked so peaceful, it seemed a shame to spoil it.”

Her smile tightened at the flattery, but her eyes still had a peculiar twinkle in them. “Why’ve you come looking for me?”

“I was wondering,” he started, taking large steps now until he stood before her, “if I could speak to your neighbour, Berta.”

“Well, you’re free to speak to whomever you like,” she said, sounding a bit puzzled.

“I mean, is she trustworthy?”

“Of… of course? But this is a rather alarming line of questioning. Why would you wish to speak to Bertie?”

“I need to send an owl, and… I don’t believe you have one?”

“No, I don’t,” she sighed. “And neither does Bertie.”

“Oh.” And yet, he couldn’t find it in him to feel disappointed, and it all seemed far less important than it had in his room, and he couldn’t wipe his smile away. “What were you doing?” he asked, even though he knew.

“Mending an old pillowcase,” she shrugged, smiling up at him.

The sun shone so softly on her face, he just noticed, and it warmed him inside just to see her under that distinct afternoon glow. Sebastian bent and sat down on the grass, folding his legs in front of him, and looked at her from a new angle. She cocked a brow in question, but Sebastian only shrugged. She chuckled and shook her head, but seemed to accept his company and went back to sewing.

The grass was a bit cold and damp, but he didn’t mind. The chickens gave him a wide berth, probably because they were still not used to him, while the rooster eyed him curiously. He was a stately-looking bird with a puffed-up chest and thick sleek plumage flaming red and black.

Sebastian turned his attention away from the birds to what lay beyond the fence at her back — there seemed to be another garden there, but far more broad and sparse than hers, and he could hardly see the house that it belonged to hidden behind overgrown trees.

“What do you wish to have for lunch?” he asked.

“I was thinking to have one of those meat pies.”

“Oh… You wouldn’t like something a bit more fancy?”

“No,” she chuckled, then looked at him from beneath her brows. “Do you?”

Sebastian shrugged, resting his elbows on his knees. “I only ask because I intended to cook for you today.”

“You know you don’t have to do that…”

“I know,” he smiled. “But I want to.”

She frowned at him, but a smile still played on her lips.

He knew the conversation from that morning, from the forest, came back to her — which was exactly his intention. He was set on compensating her for her kindness with a little bit of his, and he wasn’t about to let it go.

“What? You don’t fear I will poison you, do you?”

“Of course not,” she huffed.

“Or slip you a love potion,” he grinned, leaning in closer.

She kept her smile as she looked down and her fingers worked, but there was something tense and unspoken about her now that Sebastian couldn’t name… Perhaps he had gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back again. “Bad joke…”

She nodded and her smile relaxed. “That’s alright,” she said in a small voice as her eyes slid down to him again.

“So,” he said, “what do you want?”

What did she want?

Her hand stilled with the needle halfway through the pillowcase. She felt a similar transience within herself: so close, yet stalling. She had Sebastian right there, in her garden, at her feet, transparent like a silent lake, and she knew what he wanted. She looked into his eyes and inwardly asked — could she? It was difficult to imagine, and harder still to do.

And yet, why did she keep him in her home, if not for this?

She took a breath and looked away, and Sebastian could tell that she was thinking, although he could not guess what. As she struggled to find it in her to tell him, he inched closed through the grass.

“Oh,” he said with a surprised chuckle, “you took them off.”

She looked down and realised what he meant: she’d taken her boots off, and her stockings hung over the armrest. Her toes curled into the grass, but it was too late for them to hide.

“Erm, yes,” she said awkwardly, “I forgot that I did…”

His eyes went up to hers, doubtful and playful. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked with a sweet voice.

“A little…”

Without asking for permission, his hand drifted over the earth, through the grass, and found her. He cupped the arch of her foot in his rough palm and pressed it down, forcing his warmth into her.

She smiled timidly and laughed, but her body tensed. Through her mind flashed the question: when was the last time someone had touched her there? Perhaps her mother when as a child she’d gotten some scrape or cut. She hardly ever visited shoemakers or had cause to see a doctor, and her stockings stayed on all the time.

Even when it came to the rest of her, exchanges with strangers happened through gloves, and whether it was her family or close friends like Bertie, she didn’t venture past a hug. Sebastian was being exceptionally forward, and she tried, tried, tried to be angry with him… but couldn’t. Beneath the shock of his touch, the warmth of his hand, how dead her flesh felt beneath it, and the utter impropriety of the act — she found the sensation distressingly pleasant.

So when Sebastian asked again:

“What do you want?”

— she answered without hesitation:

“To feel warm.”

He crawled toward her on the ground and his big hands swallowed her feet and clasped around her ankles and travelled up her skin like snakes until, overwhelmed, she pulled her legs up and hugged her knees.

“Alright, that’s…!”

“Too much?” he asked breathlessly as he looked up, open-mouthed, arrested in a desperate lean forward.

“Too quickly…”

“Alright,” he said quietly, his body relaxing but his eyes fixed on hers as if he were afraid she could disappear when he blinked. “Alright, we can…”

“Can what?” she asked nervously. “What do you intend to do?”

She wanted to slap herself for denying him again, but the more she got to know Sebastian, the more she knew herself — and she understood now she was far too used to loneliness.

“I intend to give you what you want, just as you gave me what I want…”

“Oh, I don’t think I —”

“You said you wish to feel warm,” he said, his hands slowly slipping upward again, trailing the surface of her dress.

He caged her in and he’d never seemed more vulnerable as he stood there, kneeling in the dirt before her, waiting for one word, just one word from her to give him leave to move.

“Yes, but not like that…”

“How, then?” he said, coming closer. “Show me.”

She wanted to… So she did. He’d tilted the rocking chair as far back as it would go and held it there, so the only way forward for her was to uncurl herself, slide between his arms, and join him. Her legs went first and her body followed, brushing past his slowly, smoothly, and then they were face to face. She dropped the half-mended pillowcase to the side to cup his face in both her hands, and Sebastian’s eyes never left hers. She was so close she could have felt his breath, but it stuck in his throat.

“Like this,” she smiled and, holding his face still, she leaned up and kissed his forehead.

She heard him gasp. It was pure and innocent and every bit as loving as she’d dreamed, as comforting as any scene of soft romance in the muggle novels that she read. She kissed his right cheek, and then the left, and although her heart was beating so loudly in her chest that she could hear it, Sebastian looked more scared than she felt.

“Tell me what to do,” he said, sounding like a little lost child.

“You want to be told what to do?” she asked, smile growing soft, eyes holding him in sweetly, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones.

Sebastian nodded.

“Close your eyes,” she said, “and let me kiss you.”

He sucked in a breath and held it and closed his eyes so fast he almost hurt himself.

She chuckled. The pleasure she felt at having this power over him surprised her, and scared her equally as much. She put that aside and leaned in.

Her lips brushed the surface of his mouth on her way to kiss his chin, and from there she led a trail of kisses all the way down his neck. Sebastian’s head tilted back, resting in her hands, surrending himself with a choked moan. His skin was tougher here, and badly shaven, but she smiled against him anyway. She inched herself forward on her knees, sitting on the ground with her thighs between his. Obligingly, he stretched his legs and made more space her for, letting her scoot closer to him.

Her hands trailed down his face to cup his neck while her kisses went upward, and she kept his head leaning back as she kissed his chin again, his jaw, the freckles on his cheeks… Standing on her knees, she kissed right between his eyebrows. She heard him whimper then, and smiled. Very gently, she leaned left, and right, kissing his closed eyes each in turn, before ending with a long, lingering press of her lips against his forehead.

Timidly, his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her there. His hot breath fanned against her neck, and she could feel him frowning, his brows tensing, but he only held her tighter. Slowly, she leaned back and looked at him.

“Alright?” she asked, hands cupping his jaw again.

Sebastian opened his eyes, the frown still there crinkling them at the edges. He seemed on the verge of tears.

“‘Alright’ might not be the right word,” he whispered, looking at her as if he’d just tasted death.

“What is it?” she asked, a tremble in her voice. “Did I… do something wrong?”

From her previous serenity at this taste of comfort, of closeness, she fell into despair: she had done either too much or too little, she’d miscalculated somehow, and now…

“I just didn’t realise how much I needed that,” he said.

Oh.

“Really?” she grinned, almost laughing with relief.

Sebastian nodded, his cheeks plumping in her hands. “Really.”

His arms tightened around her and he hugged her, tucking his chin over her shoulder, and she did the same. Slotted to each other, they began to gently swing, left and right, and left, and right. It was impossible to say who started it, but soon they were both laughing the wider the swings got. In one canting heave, they landed on their sides into the grass. Sebastian’s arm cushioned her, and her cheek rested on top of his. With a childish giggle, she pulled away to lay more comfortably next to him.

“Was that so hard?” he asked, his eyes gazing warm and happy into hers.

“What do you mean?”

“Admitting that you needed something too.”

She snuggled closer to him, her arms tightening around his waist, trying to hide from his question in the crook of his neck.

“So, now that we’ve satisfied that longing,” he continued, nuzzling the tip of her head with a smile, “ what other ‘needs’ of yours can we address?”

“Who says you’ve satisfied it yet?” she asked, looking at him from beneath her lashes.

Sebastian smirked and pulled her close again, tucking her head under his chin. His eyes closed in contentment. His whole flesh was singing from the feeling of her body, of another beating heart so near his own.

“Ow,” he said suddenly, frowning. Something was picking at his finger.

“What?”

He opened his eyes and saw the rooster there, glaring at him.

“Your birds have mistaken my fingers for worms.”

“How rude,” she laughed. “Alright… We should go inside.”

Sebastian was disappointed to lose her from his arms. She picked up the pillowcase and the sewing kit, and he felt left behind for a moment, but then she took his hand, and looked into his eyes, and pulled him into the house with her.

Her naked feet pattered against the cold wood floor, and she didn’t look back at him until the door closed behind them. She seemed to lose some of her nerve now that they were in the living room — between her bedroom, and his — and Sebastian waited for her to say something, do something, guide him down whatever path she chose. When she turned toward him again, she put on a brave smile, but he knew her well enough by now to tell that she was nervous.

“I know it seems like not much at all,” she started, letting go of his hand, “or like a waste of your time, but…”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant what I said. I don’t mind… I more than don’t mind,” he smiled. “And if that’s how you mean to exact payment from me, I think we’ve only just covered the first night.”

He took the items from her hands and put them on the little chest of drawers by the door, and then his hands cupped her elbows.

“I’m just afraid that…”

“That what?” he said.

“That you wish to give more than I want to take.”

He bit his lip — she had a point, but he wouldn’t let that stop him.

“Then why don’t I,” said Sebastian, “let you do,” stepping closer, “exactly what you wish to.”

Closing the space between them, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled herself into his chest. Her cheek rested against his heart.

It was a convenient proposal. And if he was honest in offering himself to her without asking for anything in return that she couldn’t or wouldn’t give, then it should work to her advance.

On the periphery of her own desires, the mission Ominis gave her returned to her like a bitter memory.

She could satisfy her long-suppressed longing for a warm hand to hold, a body to curl herself around, a vessel for her affection, and all the while she might yet charm Sebastian into wanting to have more in his life than cursework — without the need to ply him with amortentia. She’d only done it once, and still felt terribly guilty about it… But it did bring him to her door, so perhaps it hadn’t been for nothing.

She still feared him, though, and feared even worse that she’d forget he was still that dark wizard that chased after danger and was addicted to it.

In the distance, thunder rolled, and through the silence of the house, she could hear the trees outside begin to sway with a strong wind. She wished now more than ever before to stop thinking. Perhaps that was what Sebastian needed too…

“I had better go,” she said, parting from him with a smile.

“What?” he asked with surprise and disappointment.

“I should put the chickens back inside if it will rain. They get scared easily.”

Sebastian looked down at her disheartened but didn’t argue.

“Besides, I left my boots and stockings out as well,” she laughed.

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;danger and delight

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dandelions-could-never · 9 months ago

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Apples

———

Your childhood tasted of apples.

You recall this whenever you bite into one,

Reddish peel giving way beneath your teeth,

The taste is of long summer days playing in the orchard,

Counting to twelve while the wolf turns its back,

Clambering up trunks to poke your head from the canopy,

Discovering new pockets of magic in the woods behind the house,

Fox dens and fallen trees and bluebell groves,

An autumn spent cradled in the arms of apple trees,

Collecting fruit that has never seen any light but that of the sun,

Throwing them down to person after person,

To be sent away in a crate.

The taste of an apple ripe in late summer is different to that in autumn,

And different again when juiced in a press,

To when it returns in a bottle.

Your childhood is marked by a sweet flavor you slowly grow to dislike,

Cloying saccharine that everyone else claims is delicious.

This taste is in everything you eat from October to January every year,

Sliced up in pastries, on cakes, in stews and pies and in anything sweet and often savoury too,

The taste of apples permeates every part of your mouth,

Impossible to ignore once you know it is there,

(It is always there)

You grow to circumvent the green-bottle juice,

Give it to guests or to hosts,

But avoid drinking it yourself,

Claim you’ve had enough for a lifetime,

(There are always more apples next season)

You grow up eating apples in a way few people do,

And yet you are ungrateful for the taste,

Sick of it being forced down your throat by people claiming that you’re lucky,

(You are)

(You know you are)

(But if you are so, so unbelievably lucky, then why does there seem to be a rot at the core of your apple-sweet childhood)

(Why does a maggot worm its way through white flesh, eating away at the innocence you deserved)

(Why does the hand plucking the apple look so much like your mother’s)

#mine #my poetry #poetry #apples #parental issues #parental abuse #childhood trauma #yayyyyy #Fred is traumatised #raise your hand if you’re surprised

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from-nobody-to-nightmare · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4: Mulligans Bounty (Boon)

“Despair was a heavy blackness that let no light in or out. It was a hell beyond expression.”― Yann Martel, Life of Pi

Whatever rage burned inside her before was smothered into impotent ash; leaving a smokey cold seething bitterness woven with despair that began to swell inside her. The more she held it all back the more tears fell. “The indignity of it all.” She muttered in a deep and gravelly voice. Her trickle of tears slowly became a cascade of mourning as she covered her face to muffle her ever-increasing wailing. The surrounding air became frigid as the shadows began to trickle toward her; and pooled at her feet before slithering up and blanketing her skin in their embrace. The cloaked gentleman's four eyes open wide in surprise upon her changing visage. As she lifted her head and forced her eyes open her eyes became so pitch dark that no light could escape from them and her maw shifted, split, and stretched into the ferocious jaws of a spider. Four great horns like that of a Hebridean sheep sprouted from her head framing her face like a perverse crown. The gathering shadows grew her form as she breathed heavily, straining to hold her roiling emotions in check; sprouting multiple arms ending in wicked claws as they proceeded to grip and tear at her chest splitting it in two and revealing teeth like ribs and a void as dark as her eyes. Her teary face set its gaze on the thin man beside her looking for any sign just anything to try and reassure her. “Astounding” he whispered stepping back as he felt the chilling mist she was giving off and something else he had long forgotten about…. Pure dread and it was wondrous. Unable to hear him properly in her duress she mistook his gesture for aversion filling her with shame, and took her chance to make a break for it. Her chest cavity bellowed out a miasma of deep shadows obscuring her form from any potential onlookers as she quickly rose from the bench and slipped through the rose bushes covering them in a thin rime as she passed. Thoughts twisted inside his ancient mind about what a boon it would be to acquire their soul; or to at least keep her away from those who would use her to bolster their power. Unfortunately for now, he would have to be content in keeping her untested power from the unworthy dead. He followed slowly behind her his feet crunching through the trail of half-frozen foliage, tattered cloth, and…. silken wool? He gathered the wayward fluff between his fingers and took a closer look. The threads were as fine as they were strong, and it was blacker than the blackest ink; just as hungry for light as her eyes were when she transformed at the park bench. Something besides darkness wafted from the tufts of thread as he held it; a feeling of greedy cloying emptiness that drained hope leaving nothing behind. “Such a boon to come from someone so new; what an enticing find.” he chuckled to himself in wonderment continuing on her frost-strewn path.

She traveled some distance off the path to a well-sequestered water feature. It was made of pale stone exquisitely carved with grotesque statuary and a heavily patinaed, unreadable plaque. Despite its remoteness in the park, the area was surprisingly well-kept. Exhausted and out of tears from her impromptu jaunt she sat by the lip of the fountain zoning out to the sound of cascading water. The hollow emptiness of the moment washed over her as the skylight glistened off the ripples in the water, their dancing refractions a blessed distraction from her misery. Her form gradually returned to its original state more or less. “Great.” she frowned; her hospital gown was torn to shreds on the way through frozen branches and briars revealing a body covered in soft and dense black fluffy wool covering just about everything above her shins. A deep long exhausted sigh left her as she rolled onto her side still looking out at the water. Her heavy disinterest in the world around her muffled the approaching footsteps of her hoped-to-be acquaintance.

“Here thou art.” He said to her in a delighted tone taking a seat next to a big black ball of wooly fluff. “I thought I hath lost you. What luck that thou hast left quite a trail amongst the brambles.” Her dulled violet eyes shifted up towards him followed by a deep snot-filled snort from crying so much. “I don’t know why you chose to follow me here after I acted so inappropriately back there.” She shifted her vision back to the water with a thousand-yard stare. “Fret not child; such displays of anguish do not rattle me; this is hell after all. Taking into consideration…. ‘Tis understandable for thou to mourn the life left behind; ‘tis a copious change to take; indeed.” he reassured her; if only to further drop her guard, “ In any event what matters now is what thou plan to do next.”

“What I should do next? I’m not even sure I can make it through today. I literally have nothing now, not even the clothes on my back. I can’t find a job like this, at least not one that doesn’t involve …. You know?” He raised a concerned eyebrow as she gestured heavily toward her private areas trying to say this politely, ““Negotiable Affections”; I think that’s the appropriate phrase.” A new thought came to mind, “ Where would I even live? I’d rather not live on the street, that was hell for anyone; even in the living realm.”

“Tell me lamb….” the man began, “ What comes to mind when thou thinks of home?” “Well….” she thought in the most general terms, “Usually I think of a house that is….. you know four sturdy walls, a couple of windows, a good door, a roof that doesn't leak. I mean a house house. What’s there to think of?”

“Ahem….I did not mean a building dear child. Ponder this more carefully if thou wish to find a suitable place to live.” he retorted, “What dream comes to mind when thou thinks of home?” She stared blankly at him unsure of what to say before turning her head to look into a distant patch of sky. “ I never thought of what I wanted in a home; it never felt like I had a choice. I’m on my own now, and I guess something that I would like for myself is a cozy cottage…. A little place to call my own, to have friends over if I ever get to make any….. Maybe to just be. I never got a chance to have that when I was alive” She let out a whistful sigh “ It feels a bit silly to dream about that now.”

Satisfied with her answer he smiled and remarked “ Though this place may be different than the living world, ‘tis just as much a place of dreams; and like all dreams, they have their prices.”

She gave an incredulous sidelong glance back to him “Well I would think so, everything costs money and I am willing to work for it. I just need a place to start.”

His eyes narrowed with a smirk. “ I may be able to assist….that is if thou cares to make a deal?”

She narrowed her eyes facing him head-on, “ What kind of deal?…….”

“Simple really; I will grant thee a head start to your desires; clothes, work, a home; in exchange for thy servitude?”

Her eyes widened a little as alarm bells rang loud in her mind bad deal, Bad Deal. She has read enough history books to see where this was most likely going. “ I don’t know….. What if I want to switch employers down the line? Is there anything else I could trade?”

He nonchalantly summoned a cup of tea. “ Well, souls are usually customary for these transactions. I am offering quite a bit you understand. ‘Tis a better fate than becoming a harlot.”

“My soul….. I don't mean to sound rude; but while that is an interesting sales pitch, Mr…umm?” She paused realizing that they never gave their name. “Zestial, Zestial Morde.” He answered. “Right…. Mr. Morde. I’m not quite willing to part with the only thing that’s mine right now. Maybe we could negotiate something different, you know something smaller for something smaller?” she pondered nervously.

Zestial veiled his displeasure well, most demons in her position would have just taken the deal as is but revealed in her honesty she was a rather shrewd person. If pushed he would lose his chance altogether. It was time to think of something else. He gazed upon the tattered remains of her clothes and then came a thought. Her silk-like wool if it was what he thought it was; she couldn’t understand how valuable it would be; maybe he could get more for less. He could put the lamb to graze on someone else's land and reap the rewards, but whose? A quick think-back to her desires gave an answer to work with.

“Umm, Mr. Morde?” Nadia looked at him wide-eyed with reluctant expectation and twiddling her fingers. “ Pardon me, child I was lost in thought. I suppose we could make a different kind of arrangement if thou art so inclined. Mayhap an exchange? Your wool for new garments should suffice.” She froze as he gingerly touched an inky black lock of wool from her head. Nadia bashfully turned her gaze away and onto the floor and stuttered, “I..I… suppose so. I doubt I could find anything that fits with all this fluff in the way. There is one condition though if I may add. Could you please let me keep the wool on my head? I’d rather not be bald.” she patted her head for emphasis.

“Very well.” he outstretched a hand from beneath his cloak, “ Do we have an agreement then Miss….”

“Oh! Right, I never gave you my name.” She nervously hesitated, “I..it’s…. Nellie.” She reached out her hand with a slight pause her mind darting with last-minute hesitation. Taking a deep breath she grabbed his hand, “ Yes.”

Magic surged from both parties' hands like electricity weaving a web around their arms; an interplay of his brilliant glowing green with her subdued demure purple. It left her whole body tingling so much that her wool was standing on its end. As she let go, his magical energy was still skittering around her wool; it was powerfully overwhelming as she shuddered the sensation off. Now she had an idea of how powerful he was; this was her first deal and even though she resisted trading her soul. Nadia began to wonder how powerful could other demons be. How long could she keep this up?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #ace #constructive criticism welcome #existence is a nightmare #female oc #from nobody to nightmare #it's gonna be a long afterlife #my ocs #platonic #zestial morde #zestial #hazbin hotel zestial

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