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lovelybeesthings · 6 months

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Dancer

Coriolanus Snow x fem reader

Warnings: Smut, size difference

Context: what if Lucy Grey was forced to kill another tribute as it was down to the two of them and y/n kills Lucy and Snow gets caught with his actions of cheating and sent to distract 6 and meets the winner of the 10th hunger games?

As it was down to two tributes Lucy Grey and Y/n L/n Snow was anxious analyzing each step and preying hopefully Lucy could find a way to win as the snakes were close to Y/n she kept fighting, and her gorgeous hair looked still tactful she seemed innocent but her actions far from it using an axe and he own hands to fight back from dead tributes.

As snow thoughts raced he completely forgot to look at the screen until one sound came out a woman’s scream but..a voice he recognized, once he looked up at the screens he saw Lucy’s gray body lying with blood coming out from her body her dress and corset while the tribute who won y/n closed her eyes crying as she was almost disgusted with her actions and once she opens them she made sure to close Lucy’s a sweet act from a girl who used a salvage method to end another’s.

As he couldn’t look anymore he heard words coming out of the TV “I’m s-sorry, I’m so so-sorry” the girl cried out so innocently at the moment she caused him to snap out the moment he turned his head seeing her mentor cheer and some cheered for them while some watched the screen feeling sympathy for the winner.

As she got up wobbly her hands so slim and skinny were stained with blood from what she knew Lucy and y/n were a bit smaller poor young girls in a hunt and both had hobbies that they were talented about Y/n was credited for her dancing skills and sung a little. So only after the events, Coriolanus was punished for cheating by Highbottem and sent to be a peacekeeper in District 7 where the winner of the 10th games lived.

After settling down he heard from fellow peacekeepers that down at the hub, there was gonna be a little celebration for y/n she had been very popular in her district he'd heard that she truly their angle, and when she was reaped it made everyone devastated, and hopeful something that drew the line between the two Lucy Grey was a girl that was forgetful for distract 12 while Y/n L/n was a name everyone knew a girl who could not be forgetful.

As he went with some peacekeepers he saw her up on the stage in a lovely flower dress Brown boots with roses on them hair half up half down pigtails ribbons holding them she fixed the mic and went back to her bass roses crested on the base red and white which caught his attention soon the remainder of the members came out and the music started to play people danced smiling giggling though his eyes were drawn to Y/n and who playing the bass she had and another girl who seemed like her sister singing in the mic together as Y/n had a sweet smile this wasn't the girl who had murdered cruelly this was a girl who had to fight for her life for people she cared about in the arena.

As they soon changed songs Y/n hopped off the stage to dance with people on the floor a few young children older fellow and some peacekeepers… “would you like to dance Mister?”

He hadn't noticed her appear to him he was taller than the girl her hair was different from what he saw in arena hair (whatever your hair resembles color-wise) he was flushed with emotions but the only one he could think of was he was flustered “I uh don't know how to dance-” he said as he soon was interpreted with her sweet words that felt like honey “it's easy ill show ya” she says as she took his hands to the floor as the music played she put his hands on her hips and her hands to his shoulders and instructs his feet as he watches her boots and her dress and her hair in the wind as she dances he was amazed by her moves and her beauty at the moment.

His face was ridden with pink he was so happy at that moment and before he knew it she had slipped away dancing with the next person as he sighed the feelings she had left him were strong know something he felt with Lucy…but stronger than it as he realizes a ribbon was in his hand the ribbon she had in her hair he soon put it in his pocket and watched from the sidelines, she soon went back up to play her bass and sing.

Something he was surprised about was that she started dancing on the stage with her sister smiling and giggling then after that they wrapped up their instruments and got ready to leave before Coriolanus knew it his legs moved on his own she was on the stage packing her bass kneeling struggling to close the case “gosh dang it!” he was blushing as he swallowed his nervous and spoke “Need some help?” she jumped to the words spoken to her and turned her head softening to his words “Yes, please” he got down on his knees beside her shutting the case “I'm Coriolanus Snow” She beamed even brighter “Well nice to meet you Croyo” his face felt warm to her nickname for him

As he carried out the case for Bass she had led him to her home and when he placed it down he smiled as she began to say goodbye “Thank you again for bringing all the way home for me Croyo” She then tippytoed her boots and kissed him on his cheek and smiled blushing then shutting the door.

(Time skip)

Y/n had opened up about the nightmares and panic attacks she gets about the games and the haunting faces of the people she had to murder the most regret she had for Lucy Grey making her cry into his arms in the moment he didn't even care about Lucy grey he was more into the fact he was able to hold Y/n he felt bad but felt a need to make her always run in his arms aomoem she can turn to the only person she can turn to. He felt that it wasn't needed to tell her about his past in the Capitol he knew at one point he'd tell her but not yet.

“Croyo I want to take the next step in our relationship,” she says blushing not being able to look him in the face “All alright..” he says with a smug face but soon changes once she looks up at him as he runs light kisses down my cheek and jawline, his breath heated on my skin, making me quiver with happiness he began to unzip my dress leaving me in my custom undergarments with roses plastered on them I took him back a minute and then continued to take off his clothes until he was bare naked my eyes traced every bicep very ab and my face becomes red when I get to his “my little rose petal~” he says as I look back up to his eyes as he smirks and unhooks my laced bra and panties giving myself to him.

His hands began to trace the curves of my body and then study each other's mouths, savoring the sensation of each other's warm bodies pressed tightly against one another. He was now holding my breast in his hands and then began to Lick them and bite on the nip causing me to shiver and moan out blushing then His Dick pressed against the crack of my thighs, stretching my yearning pussy open for him the comfort of his touch quickly entered throughout my body.

He slowly sank inside me, filling me, his movements slow and steady. The feeling of his dick in me made me flutter as he was able to see his member in my stomach making me even harder the thrill of each thrust drew me closer to my release, the peak growing within me with each succeeding pulse of his body against mine.

As my eyes rolled back into my skull, his big cock buried deep within me, a loud gasp from my lips as he buried himself even further inside me, his balls smacking against me “Fuck you're so tight” he moaned “So close-e!” I moan as he nods and soon releases inside of me he kisses my forehead and falls on top of me as we both fall asleep to each other naked body.

“I love you y/n,” he says to me slumbering body waiting for a response then speaks again “You're mine forever I'll never let you go I've already made that mistake once I won't let it happen again,” he says possessive holding y/n in his arms and closeting his eyes.

THE END THIS A ONE SHOT

#coriolanus snow x reader #reader #coriolanus snow #fanfic #tom blyth x resder #smut #the hunger games x reader #hunger games

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a-jynx · 7 months

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care to stay? (astarion x reader)

i'll let you guess, it's kinda angsty!

warnings; a lot of blood talk, injuries, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst to keep it spicy, and maybe some ooc astarion! enjoy!

Sharp whines pierced your skull, licking at the contents inside as your eyes twitched open. Squinting at the ache in your thundering bones, you slowly rolled onto your back, sitting up onto your elbow with a groan.

What in the Hells happened...? Pushing up with your shaking limbs, you staggered, falling into a cracked and crumbling wall. Squeezing your teeth that caused a dull ache behind your jaw. Glancing around, you watched as the flames flickered and danced among the rubble. The crumbling surface around you reeked of smoke powder and copper, along with the putrid stench of smoked flesh. Swallowing thickly at the dirt that coated your throat, you gripped your side while stumbling through the scattered bodies. Flashes rippled through your groaning and thrumming mind.

Your party. Your brain scattered, thinking of everyone within the walls. Shadowheart, Gale, Karlach... Astarion.

Goblins had ambushed you. Shadowheart and Astarion were busy trying to keep them off of you and Gale, whilst Karlach had gone into her fit of rage.

The smoke powder barrel. You remember shouting as the Goblins fire arrow whizzed past your lot, your eyes wide as you all ran towards the exit as the explosion boomed.

Groaning, you dragged your feet through the clutter, your boots catching on jagged stones and the thick, blackened goop of blood stuck to your boots like sap. Swaying towards another door, it's once oak colored darkened from the blast, a handprint of blood smeared across the handle. Wetting your lips, you drew your dagger and shouldered through, only to sigh as you spotted Karlach helping Shadowheart with Gale's wounds.

"My Gods," Karlach laid Gale back against the bed, quickly moving towards you as you stumbled into her hold, not caring about the sizzling as she moved you towards the other bed. "Solider, are you alright? You took the blunt of the blow, if I'm being honest, I'm shocked yet thrilled to see you alive."

You winced away from the burning sensation as your back met the soft, yet dirt-covered mattress. "Thank you, Karlach," your voice rasped, soot still coating it and resting among the blood in your teeth. "Where's Astar-"

"He went to find-"

You jumped as the door slammed open. "I can't find them anywhere! There's more goblin guts and d" his voice staled when his eyes landed on your shaking figure, Karlach's hand still hovering over. "By the Hells! Watch where you're aiming those torches," he hissed, moving to the other side of the bed, his arms over his chest as Karlach rolled her eyes.

"They're fine, Astarion, they're our fearless leader, remember?" Her comment held bite as you winced, searing pain rippled through your melting mind. Astarion's lips moved to speak, his eyes glanced towards you as he gently gasped. Blood leaked from your ears, decorating the mattress and your hair below. Eyes clenched shut as you gritted your teeth, more pain shooting through as if your jaw would splinter.

"Heal them now, dammit!" Astarion shouted as Shadowheart finished healing over Gale, who slowly sat up in bed, groaning and clenching his shoulder. The cleric moved quickly, her hands already glowing a crisp, bright blue before laying them on your temples. More searing caressed your aching skull, yet this time it felt calming. Like that of an animal licking at its wounds. Soothing. Your body shook, feeling the bond shake and mend within your soup-like mind. The sharp whines became whimpers of your own voice. A gasp ripped through your burning throat as the crackle of your rib mended itself back into place.

"Is it working? Will they be alright?" Karlach stood closer to Shadowheart as she sighed, her fingers began to shake. She was growing weak...

"I'm not sure how much more I have in me-"

"You'll continue to heal them until Avernus freezes over if it'll help them," Astarion snipped, one of his hands had moved amongst the blood and dirt, caressing your fingers in a way of saying 'I'm here'. Your chest clenched as a blood-curdling scream wretched through your throat, rattling your still bubbling mind. Shadowheart grimaced, yanking her hands back with a shout, her hands stung with a rose-like red blistering her palms. Karlach gently caressed Shadowhearts' armored shoulder and moved towards Gales' bed, who stood in shock. Astarion had moved to sit on the bed with you, his arms holding onto your shoulders as you shook and cried out.

Her healing had worked, but its' effects worked through each injury like a professional seamstress. Weaving through your veins, smothering in and over your bones' marrow, and licking at your popped eardrums and rattled brain damage from within. You withered in Astarion's grasp, shaking as tears streaked down your dirty cheeks. "I- I tried to save us," your voice shook. Astarion frowned, his thumb brushed against your skin. "Just rest, darling.." His voice was a gentle whisper, his cool skin pressed against your sweat-covered skin. Sighing against his chest, your eyes fluttered close. The soot and dirt caused a soft grimace, yet there was a comforting scent hidden amongst it.

*******

You blinked awake, wincing as you slowly sat up from the bedroll beneath you. "What the Hells," you winced more at the sound of your gravel-like voice. Humming, you took in your surroundings. Soft pillows and carpets surrounded you, a gentle candlelight flittered within the bright red tent. Goosebumps travelled up your skin as you glanced down, noticing your tunic missing and dull-white wrappings secured around your ribs. Crimson blossomed across the wrappings causing you to frown.

Jumping as the tent flaps opened, revealing Astarion with a bowl and prime white wraps resting across his forearm. His movements paused, your eyes met as he sat the bowl down and moved towards you, grabbing your flushed cheeks and slamming your lips together. You gently moaned into the kiss, flinching at pain that shot through your side. "Thank the Gods you're awake," he mumbled against your lips, resting his forehead against your own. "I thought you were gone..." His voice lower, barely a whisper.

With a smile, you rested your jaw against his rough palms, relishing in the callouses he's gained over your time together. "And leave you all alone with Gale? I couldn't." You couldn't fight back the grin as he rolled his eyes, leaning back on his calves and helping you lay back against the cot. "Because you know he'd be insufferable for me to endure alone," he smiled gently, brushing your hair from your eyes. Sighing, you leaned further into the bedroll, Astarion reached back and grabbed the bowl, dipping the piece of cloth into the cool water and dabbing it against your sweltering forehead.

"How're the others?"

"They're fine, we need to worry about getting you back to proper health, my dear," he hummed, dropping the rag back into the bowl. His fingertips dragged gently over your ribs, watching as your body jumped from the soft touches. Your brows furrowed, gently grabbing his flittering touches. "Star... Please,"

"They're alright, my love, I promise.." He sighed, gently undoing the wraps and frowning at the snarled wound. The blast had cut through your flesh like butter. Soot and dirt had embedded itself into your wound and clung to your hanging flesh, it had caused him to cringe inward at the sight of your gnarled flesh. He worked quickly, dabbing the wet cloth against the charred skin, sighing as you flinched away. Wrapping the new bandages, he sat back while wringing out the blackened and bloodied rag. "And how're you...?"

The water dripping ceased as his lips pressed into a tight line, the rag dropped next to your arm as you pushed up onto your elbows. "Star..?" You frowned, rolling onto your non-injured side as he turned towards you, his hand cupped your jaw as you reached up, catching his with a sigh. Tears brimmed his ruby colored eyes. "I thought we lost you when you fainted. There was just... So much blood. Your blood mixed with that dirt and soot, and I couldn't-" His voice caught, choking in his throat as he shook his head. "The mere scent of your blood mixed with such retched things; it made my stomach churn. Caused the bile to claw up my throat."

You stared at Astarion - you both had found safety in one another. Trust had built quickly with how many battles you both had gotten into together, the stories shared amongst with goblets of wine, confiding in one another when everything seemed hopeless. And of course, with your shared comfort came... Feelings.

Astarion hated it.

He wasn't supposed to fall for you, it was the simplest plan for him to follow, yet here he was. On the verge of crying while he coddled you close, his fingertips ghosting over your new bandages. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you tugged him down to the bedroll, racking your fingers through his thick, white curls. You shared a comfortable silence as he wrapped his arms around your chest, as carefully as he could, his hands still trembling. You fitted yourself against his chest, sighing while twisting a wild curl around your finger.

"You can touch me, my Star, I'm not made of glass-"

"No, but you need your rest... I should go-"

"Please... I don't want to be alone," you murmured into his shirt, tightening your arms around his waist as he moved to leave. Blinking, his hands hovered over your shivering skin. His lip slightly trembled before he swallowed thickly. "Ask me to stay," his voice shook as you squeezed him close, feeling your own tears well up. He believed he would hurt you more than help you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." Leaning up onto his chest, you leaned up and pressed a tight kiss to his lips.

Your mouths moved together. Teeth and tongue clanking and grinding against each other. Astarion's hands settled on your hips, soft circles tugged at your loose pants, his nails scrapping by the edge of your bandages. A gentle shudder ran through your bones as you maneuvered yourself on top of his lap, gritting your teeth to keep the pained moan buried in your throat. Pressing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, his lips trailed down your throat to the scarred bite mark. Your body moved gently against his lap, rolling circles into his hips before he rolled you off of him, chest heaving.

"Astarion, wait,"

"We're... Resting." His voice slightly wavered, his nails gently digging into your shoulders before he moved to lay beside you. Tugging your body closer, smothering his nose into your hair, deeply inhaling as you wrapped your arms around his chest.

"When you're not constantly bleeding," his voice muffled as you rolled your eyes. His fingers gently pinched at your thigh. "Then, we'll have all the fun you deserve, my darling."

*****

You awoke to quiet murmuring - distant, gentle - as if not wanting to break the silence the moon had brought on. Lighting your pinkie, you moved to light the candle beside your bedroll, only to jump when a pair of arms tightened around your waist.

Astarion's body quivered against your own, his arms tightened. You cringed at the pain shooting through your body, but gritting your teeth, you turned over as much as his grip would allow. Grasping his shoulder, you gently shook the somewhat whimpering elf.

"Astarion, honey, wake up." You murmured into the air, huffing as he released your waist, one arm slipping from around you as it grasped at his tunic, tugging on the slightly tattered tunic. "My star, please," his fangs dipped into his bottom lip, blood dribbled from the nibbled skin. "Astarion, wake the hells up!" You shook him more, ignoring the searing pain as his claw-like nails dug into your skin. His eyes snapped open; a gasp choked through him as tears leaked down his cheeks.

Elvish ripped through his lips before he could even comprehend the words his tongue spilt. Your eyes widened, quickly setting up on your knees, both hands grasping his sticky cheeks. "Astarion, my love, breathe, please." Grasping one of his shaking hands, you placed his palm against your heaving chest, your heart beating heavily. His eyes caught yours, more tears leaked past your hands as you rubbed your thumb against his cheeks. "Breathe, my Moon, follow my rhythm."

His hands trembled against your skin, slowly his eyes blinked as he seemed to finally focus on your eyes. Swallowing thickly, he licked his lips and slowly reached up, locking his hands through your locks. Astarion tugged you into his body, his hands shook as he held you close. His breathing shook as he tightened his grip, making you whimper in his hold.

"Astarion, are you alright... Do you need a minute?" Your voice was low, attempting to keep the peace within your shared tent. You held each other close, gentle kisses caressed his skin as he leaned further into you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." You murmured into his hair, cradling him further into your body. You wanted to shield him away from everything. The fear and anger that tries to eat away at him. He looked up, slowly leaning back, but keeping his hold on you. Astarion licked his lips slowly, a shaking sigh passed through him as he moved to hold your cheeks.

"Care to stay?"

#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #reader insert #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

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— Who hurt you?

— yandere dad-ghost x gn teenager reader

Summary || You come home bloodied and bruised from school. While getting patched up by your dad, you reveal things

A/N || This is one of my favorite fics atm. Idk why but seeing soft dad ghost?? Yeah. That's how to do, my heart is. Anyway, enjoy 😉

Warnings || details of being hurt/bullied, blood, hints that ghost kills, and comfort.

Copper and sharpie. That’s all you can smell. The stench has embossed itself on your clothes, your flesh, and inside your nostrils. It was embarrassing really, coming home after being chased by bullies.

They slapped you to the ground. Laughed in your face as the girls kept you from getting up, sitting directly on your chest. They pulled out permanent markers and drew foul things on your face, arms, and legs.

Knead your stomach and kicked you. All you wanted was to hang out with them.

Silence settles between the bathroom, hearing your dad — Simon Riley, Ghost or a big Kodiak bear you like to call him, go through his bedroom, the sounds of his drawers opening and closing as he huffs loudly.

You heard the cruel rumors of your reputation. It was a gnawing sort of feeling of betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worst thing in the entire world. But what made betrayal ache was that in the past, in its place, was trust.

The rumors of you spread like a disease; whispers in the school of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’. Everyone looked at you like something else. Even teachers scoffed at you. You thought you could handle it, until today. It’s expected for your favorite shirt to be stained — again.

You didn’t want to hear your dads voice. Him being incredibly disappointed in you.

You leaned your head on the back of the toilet, chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to come in. It was long, just like the torture you’d endured hours before.

“What happened?”

You stayed quiet, continuing to look up at the white ceiling before turning your head to the side, looking at him in the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest; almost like he’s disappointed. But his voice says otherwise.

“Kiddo, what happened?” he re-asks, his boots creaking with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space toward you.

You stayed quiet, making him stare at you before sighing.

He opened the bottom of the sink, grabbed the med kit and seized the necessary items before turning on the faucet, grabbing another dark rag due to the one you’re holding already used; stained with markers, blood, and some snot.

Your dad clicked his tongue, “What the hell happened?”

“M’ don’t wanna talk about it,”

“You worried me,” your dad voiced, using your name. You considered his words carefully, staring at your lap, legs, and arms littered with all kinds of marks.

“You also worry too much,” you pointed out, watching him kneel before you.

He steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn’t speak; at first, silence hangs between you, once again as throws it away; grabbing the cloth into the sink. Then, he soaks it until it’s dripping, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint color and standing out against his pale skin.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he directs, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. “I thought something happened. Which did.”

You stayed quiet for a second. “… I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper.

You can see his brown eyes narrow, his mind occupied by something. Clearly, he’s angry. And who wouldn’t? Finding your kid barely able to stand up, laying against the wall for help covered in bruises and blood, was a frightening sight. Especially with his type of job, anything is possible.

The pressure of the cloth against your face is so delicate, almost like he’s appearing afraid to hurt you — gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline as well as the drawings. He shakes his head gently, considering your words. “Not your fault, kiddo.”

He then grabbed your arm, rotating your wrist as he examined the bruises and forming – you watched his face fill with fury.

“Who did this to you?” he seethed, voice deep and low, a tone you’d heard not so much before.

You shook your head, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. But it didn’t satisfy him, he called your name, demanding you to look at him. Tears were already falling before more words curled out of his mouth.

At long last, finally with the adrenaline and frightened state going away, you let your guard down, letting tears pour down your eyes. It stung, face hurting more than you’d like. But you didn’t care. You needed to cry.

Your hands went up to wipe away the tears, but before you can hit your sore cheeks, he’s capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, letting your head rest on his shoulder. All you required at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved. And that he wasn’t mad — never at you.

He rubbed your back, kissing the side of your head as you cried out more — sobbing turned into occasional hiccups and gasps, then sniffles and permanent hiccups that he would occasionally let out a chuckle on.

“Ready to talk about it, kid?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, quickly noticing the snot and tears stained into his gray hoodie.

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been rough, lately. School has been hard. Everything seems to be going wrong. Especially with the other kids.”

His eyes squint as he listens to you speak, the hazel color meeting your own, leaving you choking in your words. He’s your dad. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling him. But what if—?

“—And I know that being a teenager is hard. But, I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to see them.” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes swell up once more.

His thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“I’m scared to go back,” you whisper brokenly.

For a moment, the bathroom is silent, but all at once your dad’s arms are tightly around you in a hug. All-encompassing, it only makes you cry once more. Your head slumps over, forehead pressing into his shoulder – his hand pressing against the back of your neck.

“How long has it been happening?”

You shrug your shoulders, digging yourself deeper into his shoulder. “Long enough, I guess…”

“Kiddo…” he starts, sighing out of defeat. “Shit- I’m sorry for not noticing. Le’s keep you home, mkay’?”

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him. His hands started rubbing your back, before reaching over for the rag on the counter — continuing to clean up the stained marks and your irritated cheeks.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened. From the looks of it, he had a plan. But, you knew or not. His face was unreadable at times.

You shook your head, before hissing out at the soaped cloth on your cheek. He gently moved your hair out of the way, just enough to expose the wound near your eye.

“Sorry. Need to make sure it won’t get infected.”

Before you know it, he was done. Already putting the first aid kit back under the sink and throwing the used cloth into the wash. “Tell ya’ what,” he says, making you raise your eyebrows. Though, he pulled his cracked-screen phone from his pocket, the exact one he’s had for years and the one you’ve begged to get a new one.

He offers it to you, already on the phone on. More often or not, he didn’t let you snoop through it. Licensed files detailed in the phone. Plus, the last time you played a prank on him with it, he grounded you — for two weeks.

“W-hat do you want me to… do?” you stammered questioningly, hesitantly grabbing it before looking at the screen. Then back at him.

“Order pizza. Get whatever you want.”

Your eyes widened, a smile widening to which he chuckled at. “There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You get whatever, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

You got up, eagerly running out of the bathroom and downstairs as Simon yelled a small ‘watch it!’. As he gets up from his knees, he walked into his office – making sure to hear that you’re calling the pickup line before ringing Price.

He immediately answered, asking what he needed. From the way you described their name-calling, the images of you sobbing as he held you, anger filled his veins, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist with rage.

“I need a favor.”

And weeks later, the news began talking about a murder spree – snapping you out of your thoughts, only to see both of your ex-friends, and those teachers on TV. A pang of guilt set through you. But, beside you, your dad had a huge smile; one that was promising to never let anyone hurt you.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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squishycheekanon · 1 month

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La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺

Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.

You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.

An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.

Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.

Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.

You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.

The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.

“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.

It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.

“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.

“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.

He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.

“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.

“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.

The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.

“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.

You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.

“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.

“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.

“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”

Now where had you heard that name before?

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pseudowho · 4 months

Text

The JJK Crew as Firemen

Okay lads and gentlebugs, it's damsel time! This is how they meet you, rescue you, and fall in love...all in their fully uniformed line of duty.

Starring: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Ino, Megumi, Yuuji, Higuruma, Sukuna and Toji

Warnings: Building fires, road traffic collisions, suicide attempts, injuries, earthquakes, floods, wildfires, near-drowning, Ferris wheels, highly irresponsible use of fire-trucks

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Gojo

Satoru had agreed to take an extra shift, with the threat of bad weather, and he regretted it-- this storm was biblical. The skies were so black and pregnant with rain, it may as well have been night. The billowing rains slapped and stung Satoru's cheeks. Drivers were blinded, their wipers failing to clear their windscreens even at maximum speed. People stumbled, buffeted into the roads by violent winds. And Satoru's sense of humour could only get him so far when members of the public made increasingly irrational decisions, and placed themselves in danger.

But not you, he thought, as he stepped into the wild torrents of overflowing river water, to the dismayed shouts of his colleagues, you absolutely don't deserve to die like this.

Trying to head home, kept cruelly late by a manager who didn't care how far you had to travel, you had missed your bus, and had to take a dangerous detour over a little river bridge, public transport services all abruptly cancelled. One violent sweep of wind was all it took to rock you over the little fence, and you clung desperately to weeds on the riverbank, soaked, shivering, gulping at murky, frigid, terrifyingly climbing waves.

"I'm coming," shouted the fireman, white-haired, tall, throwing off his heavy uniform jacket, with no regard for his own safety, "just hold on, I'll get you out, I promise--" Satoru sloshed and slipped, his t-shirt muddy and plastered to his chest as he slid down the riverbank. He allowed his colleagues to hurriedly harness him. Hitting the water, his abs clenched painfully with the cold, and he began to wade towards you.

You cried out, feeling your grip on life be washed away as the riverbed crumbled, releasing the weeds you clung to. As the river grasped you, your hands flung desperately out, holding your breath, praying, praying--

An enormous hand gripped your own, and a long forearm drew you close with one almighty heave. Satoru dug his fingers deep into the river wall, feeling the jarring rub of stones embedded in smooth wet squelch.

"Don't let go, just hold onto me--" Satoru reached under the water, gripping your thighs and making you grasp them around his hips. You flung your arms round his neck, your face in his chest, and he held you like this, stepping back against the onslaught of the river as his colleagues reeled you both in.

Still carrying you, his arms locked under your bum, Satoru staggered up the riverbank, drenched, chest heaving you up and down against him. You glanced up at him meekly, trembling and cold. Satoru sighed, grinning down at you.

"Come on then. Tell me your name, 'cos we're gonna have to get undressed for me to warm you up."

Nanami

A wave of heat slapped across Kento's face, and he pulled equipment to his body in a practiced rush. A smash and a roar burst from the inferno in front of him, as a window exploded, blackened glass spraying through the air. The apartment block was being gutted as he watched.

"Sir! Sir!"

"What is it, Ino?"

"Evacuation incomplete, sir. There's someone left on the second floor."

Kento pulled his mask down, eyes shooting up to an opened window, a white sheet hanging out of it, flapping as the heat rose from below. Crews around him shouted to be heard over the roar of flame, with cannons shooting water, attempting to quell the fire from the lower floors. Crowds of pyjama'd residents were herded away, confused and bleary-eyed as flames ate their homes.

"Is the left stairwell clear, Ino?" Takuma faltered as Kento stamped his boots into place, yanking on his gloves.

"For-- for now-- you can't be serious sir--" Kento huffed inside his mask, clapping Ino on the shoulder, Ino buckling slightly at the strength behind it.

"I'm always serious, Ino."

Without another word, Kento stepped towards the building, sweating in his suit as he moved into a stairwell, belching smoke. His senses were dulled, his vision boxed-in, hearing his own panting breaths in the fishtank of his helmet. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hesitated and turned at the top; Kento looked down the stairs, feeling heat scorch up towards him, the fire spreading rapidly, closing off his exit.

Out of time, he thought. Approaching a corridor, its doorway jammed, swollen and warped, Kento lifted a foot and kicked it effortlessly through with a roar, the door splintering and buckling under his boot.

"Are you here? Shout for me," Kento bellowed into the corridor. His ears pricked at the shouts and coughs from the end of the corridor. Building into as much of a run as his equipment would allow, he reached another door, its paint raised and wrinkled by the heat.

Kento stepped back, turning sideways as he rammed the door with his shoulder, once, twice, three times, and barrelled through as it splintered under his weight.

Spinning his head, he saw you, crouched on the floor beneath your window, terrified and relieved in your pyjamas. Kento stepped to you, kneeling, his gloved hands moving over your body, checking you for injury. You stared into him, unable to stop yourself from grabbing his forearms, hands shaking and cold despite the blazing heat churning through the floor.

"I thought-- I thought I was going to die here," you gasped, trembling. Kento's heart creaked, and he was surprised, shaking it off-- do your job, Kento, he chastised himself.

"At least if we die here, we won't die alone. Can you stand?" You nodded, rising on shaking legs, and immediately dropped down, your eyes stinging and burning from the smoke billowing across the ceiling, pouring in from the corridor.

Kento's heart dropped to his stomach as the floor shook- an almighty crash down the corridor signified its collapse. Keeping you close with one arm round your waist, Kento leaned out of your window. With a grateful lurch, he could see his colleagues ready with the parachute canopy, waving, calling, beckoning him down.

Kento pulled you close, your back against his chest, both arms wrapped in an arresting grip around your belly and chest-- "Do you trust me?" His heart skipped again as you turned your head, gazing into him through his visor, nodding.

Kento sat backwards on the window ledge, forcing you to sit on his lap. He tried to bracket you with his arms and legs, giving a satisfied grunt as you pressed yourself hard against him.

"On three," he toned, low and heady in your ear, "...one." You squealed and squeezed his arm as he dropped backwards, both of you gripped by gravity and hauled earthwards. Kento grunted as you landed in the parachute, shielding you from impact.

The weightlessness continued as the parachute was carried from the building and placed gently on the ground. Shouts and cheers and roaring flames rang into the night, and heavy gloved hands clapped on Kento's arms and shoulders, from which you had not been released. You trembled in his lap, feeling his chest heave against your back.

When Kento broke out of his reverie, he caught your eyes staring up at him, soft and grateful, trying to see him through his helmet.

"My hero," you whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear. Kento's heart stuttered. He lifted one gloved hand and removed his helmet, blond hair messy, a fine sheen of sweat across his cheeks, his brown eyes flickering amber in the firelight. You bit your lip, drinking him in. He still had not let you go.

Geto

The whispering crowd was infected; the morbid curiosity of a thronging mass, negated the base empathy of its participants, and replaced it with a spectacle-hungry monster.

Suguru felt the grumbling rubber-neckers by the bridge be reluctantly pushed back by police officers. The first out of his fire truck, Suguru pushed through, sleek as a fish swimming upstream, and ducked under the police officers' arms, unhindered due to uniform privilege. He picked up pace as he approached the stairs, his heart in his mouth.

And, on the railings of the bridge, stood you; you trembled, so exposed and vulnerable. Nothing could make this better. Nothing could ease this naked agony. Nothing in death could be more painful than the burden of life. Nothing could possibly eke you back from the edge of this--

"Hey. I'm Suguru. I'm sorry this is happening to you."

His voice pierced your reverie, and the world slowed around you both. The passage of leaves on the wind stilled. The collective voice hushed. The railings gripped you tightly by the hands.

"And it's not going to be easy. Coming back from this. Getting better."

Your lips puckered upwards and you hiccuped, your sobs wet, your nose dripping. As you shook, one foot slipped off the edge of the bridge and the crowd shrieked as you partially dropped, the collective voice now drowning you, leaves twirling on a whirlwind, railings forsaking you--

You felt two strong arms grip around your waist. Scrabbling against them with stress-bitten nails, your foot tried to gain purchase again. Your weak little heart caved at the effort required and you teetered, weeping and floppy, half-on and half-off the bridge.

"I can let go of you. If you need me to. I understand. But...I don't think you do want me to."

Embraced like this, you felt warm. It was much easier leaping from the cold air than from warm arms, which had given you permission both to die, and to live. Your heart creaked, the choice suddenly made easy.

"Pull me up," you sobbed as you felt the arms tighten around you, "pull me up pull me up pull me u--"

You fell with a thud against the warm voice, and grasped onto it, curled into its lap, sobbing your heart out, the crowd beneath you sounding both relieved and disappointed. The warm voice soothed you, rocked you, stroked your hair.

You found yourself, in a few slow blinks, sat in the back of an ambulance, hands trembling around a hot drink, wrapped in a silver foil blanket. You stared blankly, numb, into the rising steam. A few short taps came from the ambulance door.

You looked up to see a beautiful man who you didn't recognise, handsome, slanted eyes glimmering, his long black hair pulled up into a bun. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognised to whom the warm voice belonged.

"You should be proud of yourself. It's not easy accepting help. Can I sit with you?"

Ino

The road was carnage, with debris scattered across tarmac, the remnants of one car smouldering weakly in dying flames, and the cries and sobs of a bloodied man being carried away on a stretcher. Still, the queue of traffic behind beeped and cussed, so outrageously inconvenienced.

Your car was crushed around you, the splitting pain in your leg made so much worse by the anxious claustrophobia of these crumpled walls, and not knowing how injured you really were. The sickening speed of the crashrolltumblecrash that had trapped you here, replayed in your mind on repeat. You felt panic claw up your throat, tasting your own blood as it dripped down your cheek and into your mouth.

"Wow, girl! You really didn't like this car, huh?"

The ridiculous flippancy of the statement was so incongruous, you laughed. Sniffling and trembling, you looked sideways through broken glass. A young man, his face friendly and open, squashed in his helmet, stared back at you, a sympathetic smile in his eyes.

"My name's Takuma. I'm here to get you out of this car, me and my friends. You look like you could use some help." Your lips pinched and you moved to nod, but Takuma's hands darted out, his fingertips to your cheeks and temples, holding your head.

"No. Don't. Your neck could be injured. Just...still as you can, okay? Good girl."

Takuma reached into a pocket, pulling out earplugs and putting them in for you, gingerly pulling a pair of goggles over your eyes. He removed them again briefly, gently swiping his thumb over a drip of blood about to run into your eye, wiping it on his trousers, replacing the goggles.

Takuma and his crew made short work of cutting through the pillars of your wrecked car, lifting the roof and doors off as if they were made of cardboard. After paramedics confirmed the integrity of your spine, hips and legs, Takuma managed to kneel beside your seat, working to release your trapped leg.

Fearful, your hand reached out, lying on Takuma's shoulders, gripping the back of his collar. Wordlessly, and without looking back, Takuma shook off one glove as his other hand worked, and reached up to hold your hand in his, rested together on his shoulder. You felt a curious tranquility run through you at his effortless kindness.

Your foot released, with a rush of pain as blood throbbed in your toes. You felt a twinge of disappointment as Takuma stepped back, allowing himself to be replaced by the concerned hands of medics.

"Not every day you get to be rescued by someone so handsome, huh?" Takuma laughed, framing his jaw faux-smugly between his thumb and forefinger. You smiled up at him, cute and appreciative in a way that made his belly clench.

"No. It's not every day I get to be rescued by someone so handsome."

You did not realise heroes could blush so sweetly.

Megumi

"Here. C'mon boy-- over here. You-- over there. Good boys."

Megumi expertly directed his dogs, one black and one white, against the threat of night-time's approach. News crews inconvenienced him, and he scowled, traversing rubble and wires as shouting rescuers tried desperately to set up floodlights. A chill bit through the air.

"...tonight, as a 7.8 magnitude earthquake rocked the city. The search for survivors continues as..."

Megumi raised his head to the tune of three short barks from his dog, and he jogged to the corner of a collapsed school, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. His black dog pointed keenly to a crushingly large pile of rubble, no building left for lessons and lunchtimes. Megumi reached into his pocket, offering his dog a treat, scratching its ears and head to the tune of a proud wagging tail.

"Good boy, good boy. Wait here for me." Megumi headed to the rubble, keen eyes scouring, ears astute and listening. He found an opening, the remnants of a collapsed doorway. He heard shuffles, coughs. He shoved some loose brickwork aside, and you felt rays of evening sunlight pierce what you thought was to be your grave.

"Can you hear me?" shouted Megumi, and you clung to his voice from your little coffin. Your eyes pricked with tears as the shadow of a young man blocked the rays of light, and he raised a torch, creating a beam of light, illuminating yourselves to each other.

"You got under a table?" Megumi asked, impressed, appreciative, "That saved your life. Good job."

You smiled wetly, your cut hands clotted with brick dust, and you moved to come out from under the table towards him. A perilously leaning wall teetered above you as you emerged, and you felt a shadow begin to drop over you.

With a scream, and Megumi's harsh shout, you braced for impact...and felt none. Your body felt suddenly warm, pleasantly cushioned. Opening your eyes you felt the young man lying full-length across you, his forearms braced on the floor, impossibly strong as he shielded you from the collapsed brickwork. You gasped, still and shocked, as he planked against you.

"Get yourself out. Now," he grunted. You nodded, slithering out from underneath him, leaving bloodied handprints on the brickwork as you clambered out to safety. A rough groan behind you signified Megumi somehow shaking most of a wall off his back, and crawling out to meet you.

Again, impossibly, you were the one who swayed on your feet, and Megumi reached his hands out to steady you. Two eager dogs sniffed around you both, and Megumi's frown deepened with a pretty pink blush as you gazed into him with unabashed admiration.

"Get yourself to the medics," Megumi grumbled, rubbing brick dust out of his spiky hair, "they'll help you from he--"

"I will. If you give me your number."

"You-- you are out of your mind."

Yuuji

Yuuji lowered his visor, and regretted it immediately as the rain slapped against it. Reluctantly, he raised it, feeling instant cool trickles from fringe to eyebrows. Blinking water away, he crowded amongst his colleagues, all fresh fire-service arrivals to provide relief and rescue from this flooded valley town.

Twisting round, flicking muddy splatters, Yuuji's ears pricked as his Captain, Nanami Kento, barked orders.

"Ino, Maki-- provide aid and rescue for the eastern quarter. Kugisaki, to the west. Itadori--"

Nanami hesitated at Yuuji, who would have been wagging his tail if he had one. On a hitched breath, Nanami continued.

"Itadori, survey the northern lane's integrity before we move towards evacuation. Do not," Nanami warned, slanted eyes narrow through his visor, "do anything dangerous."

Yuuji appeared thoughtful; "And by dangerous, you mean...?"

"Itadori."

"Got it sir. Nothing dangerous," Yuuji offered with a wink and a salute. Nanami stared after him with silent despair as Yuuji jogged, splashing down the waterlogged lane.

Yuuji hummed to himself, his voice breaking and springing as he jogged, blowing rivulets of water away from his lips, slipping through the mud road between lanes, hedges, trees, descending down a winding hill. He heard the hushed roar of torrents of water, and rounded the corner curiously.

The river had burst its banks, submerging a hidden dip in the road. The water sloshed, murky with sediment, lapping at an enormous felled tree, underneath which--

"Shit...shit!" Yuuji cussed, seeing a small car, almost completely submerged, partially crushed under the weight of the tree. Yuuuji sprinted, feet slapping and skidding in the wet slop of the road. Inside the car, splashes, and a desperate wet voice.

"Oh fuck--hang on, just hang on, I'll get you out." Yuuji sloshed into the flood, chest deep, keeping his footing as the undercurrent threatened to sweep him away. Leaping over felled creaking branches, rattling in the wind, Yuuji met a pair of small pale hands at the window of the car. He pressed his broad palms flat against the glass, your last remaining barrier to complete submersion.

Tear-stained, awaiting death, you stared out at him, hyperventilating, gasping, "I don't want to die here-- not like this-- I can't get out--" Yuuji took a step back, eyes wide and fearful, brimming with doubt. You saw this in him, and your lips puckered, sobbing, snotty and cold.

"I know," you reassured him as you shook, "there's nothing you can do...the tree-- you can't move it in time. I can't-- I can't--"

"I can."

You stopped, palms flat against the glass, sweet eyes boring into Yuuji, and he was possessed by malcontent.

"I can," he insisted, throwing his yellow jacket and helmet off to sink away into the muddy depths. His black t-shirt clung to his form. Even young and drenched, he looked...powerful. Still, you shook your head, slowly at first until you filled with certainty.

"You can't," you insisted, assuaging him from guilt, "you're not strong eno--"

"No, I'm strong. I'm really strong. Not smart, but--" Yuuji pulled his gloves up, taking a staggered stance with his palms flat under the tree. He turned sideways, eyes wide and innocent as he grinned.

Teeth gritting, Yuuji roared as he heaved the tree trunk. His arms shook, wet biceps bulging against his sleeves as he heaved and bellowed. As you opened your mouth to insist he stop, the words caught in your throat-- somehow, in a masterclass feat of strength, you saw the tree trunk begin to lift off the roof of the car, taking pressure off the frames and doors.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, voice strangled in amazement, "keep going, you're doing it, good boy good boy good boy--"

With one final wild exertion, Yuuji shunted the tree, and it rolled with a thick splash down the bonnet. Wading towards the car, Yuuji gripped the door handle, ready to pull against the stunning mass of water.

"When I open this, the car's gonna fill up," he pondered aloud, "so..."

"I'll reach out for you," you nodded, gasping, the water up to your chin. Yuuji's lips curled appreciatively, and he maintained eye contact as he counted down.

"Three, two, one...go!" Yuuji grunted, heaving the door open, filled with terror as your face disappeared in a rush of brown. Shoving his thick thigh into the gap, he reached in, begging, praying--

-- Yuuji felt two cold hands grip his forearms, and he gripped in return, heaving you through the torrent into his arms.

In mutual relief, chests heaving against each other, you coughed and spluttered in Yuuji's arms, fingers sinking into his hair, planting wet kisses of thanks to his cheeks.

"You saved my life," you pressed, voice breaking, "How am I ever...how can I ever...?"

"You can...just call me 'good boy' again? Just once more?"

Higuruma

"Shit-- it's spread so fucking fast--"

Higuruma Hiromi wasn't sure if the crushing, oppressive heat was coming from the sun, the scorched earth beneath his feet, or the wall of flames devastating the dry summer forest before him.

Eyes wide and appalled, his frown wrinkled his hooked nose, drips of sweat trickling through spiky black hair and onto the thirsty earth. His black t-shirt was claustrophobically tight against prickling skin, and he ran two hands down his chest before pulling on his yellow jacket and helmet.

With a sharp intake of breath, he began to boom orders to his scurrying team; "you know what to do-- restrict the spread, we have to stop this encroaching on the--"

"Sir, please! Please, listen, there's someone in there--"

Hiromi's head snapped round, hawkish black eyes like beetles in the firelight, and landed on a park ranger, fighting to be heard over the roar of flame and barrier-arms of police officers. Hiromi stomped over to him, one harsh finger pointed in the officers' face to prevent his interruption before he could start.

"You say there's someone in there? In the forest? Be clear," Hiromi commanded. The park ranger gulped.

"One of the other rangers, she-- she's trying to save some of the bird-boxes-- endangered species--"

Hiromi laughed, humourless, as he rubbed his face, gazing to the heavens, between two long-fingered hands.

"Endangered species-- she's a fucking endangered species, at this rate--" Hiromi laughed again, breathing in through his mouth, and out with a sandy groan and a decision.

"Begin at the edges," he commanded to his team, jogging towards a break in the trees, "I'll be back, if I'm lucky." Hearing the frantic shouts of his team beckoning him back, Hiromi's boots stamped over the embering earth, all noise fading and replaced by hellish heat and the lick of devil's tongues.

Hiromi panted, chest heaving as it gulped in heavy air and ashes, embering leaves wisping to the floor around him. Spotting a sign, its information barely legible as the paint wrinkled up from the surface, he sprinted onwards through the inferno, leaping over logs, skidding through wafer-dry foliage, the flames in the branches above him creating the burnt-umber sunset of a hellscape.

Approaching a circular fence, the bird sanctuary was engulfed, and inexplicably, a woman halfway up a tall wooden ladder was detaching a bird-box from the side of a tree. Hiromi skidded to a halt, incredulous, snorting in derision.

Your skin felt as dry as tanned leather on your cheeks as you tucked the bird-box under your arm and began to step down the ladder. Just one more, you thought, I can get just one mo--

"I don't like to interrupt someone passionate about their job, but are you quite finished?"

You jumped, clasping the bird-box to your chest as Hiromi loomed over you, his anger rising so much taller than he was. You swallowed, tongue like sandpaper, answering honestly.

"I'm not, actually, I've got one more to--"

Hiromi's gloved hands had cupped around the birdbox, gently plucking it out of your hands and into his. You squealed indignantly as he ducked, throwing you over his shoulder with one arm, grunting as you wriggled and kicked.

"Do as you're told," Hiromi chastised as you thumped at his back with your fists, crying out, sobbing as he carried you away, "I appreciate your diligence but--"

"No, please-- just listen--" you sobbed, reaching back as he carried you and the single bird-box away, "--the eggs-- the last breeding pair--"

Hiromi stopped despite himself, feeling the flames ringing closer around him. He tapped his foot, furious, considerate. Placing you down with a huff, he walked back to the ladder. As he picked it up, he shot you a hot-eyed look of sarcastic inquisition. Lips puckering mulishly, you pointed to the tree beside him.

Wordlessly, his body language dramatically muted, Hiromi placed the ladder and took it two rungs at a time. Removing the birdbox, gripping it in one fist, Hiromi slid down the sides of the ladder and stamped back to you, pressing the bird-box into your arms beside the other.

As your eyes melted at him in a soft little smile, embracing your bird-boxes, Hiromi blushed, glaring at you without venom. He ducked down in front of you slightly, not breaking eye-contact. Your head tilted owlishly, and Hiromi felt his belly twist in odd delight.

"What are you--" the air was thumped out of you as Hiromi hefted you over his shoulder again, and he huffed out a laugh as you swore at him. You clung to your bird-boxes as he ran through the flames, gasping and squeaking as he leapt over, under, through...

Hiromi burst out of the forest and into the open, cooled instantly by the wind-carried cool spray of a dozen hoses. Hiromi dropped you down, and you fell to your knees beside each other, panting, feeling the water drizzle down your bodies.

"So," Hiromi gasped, throwing off his jacket and t-shirt, groaning at the cool water dripping down his chest, "tell me about your birds."

You pressed your forehead to his bare-chest, breath grazing across it as you laughed, sending shivers down Hiromi's spine. Resting your cheek on him, looking up with lovestruck, appreciative eyes, Hiromi wondered faintly that he could listen to you tell him about birds all night.

Sukuna

This was the worst day of your life. You had made a horrible error of judgement, and you prayed to the god who had forsaken you, steeping in the consequences of your own actions. You would live the rest of your days in terror, stomach cold and gripped and roiling with fear, never happy again--

To the amused intrigue of onlookers, you were enjoying an extra-long ride at the top of a colourful Ferris Wheel. But you were afraid of heights, and had chosen a beautiful summers' day to challenge yourself. And then the Ferris Wheel got stuck. And now you were going to die up here.

You slid off the seat and onto the floor, and sobbed as your little carriage rocked in the wind. The Ferris Wheel creaked, and you felt a cold terrified sweat drop down your chest, your hands flinging out to clutch the seats. Head tipped back and eyes closed, you felt panic settling in--

"Oi. Woman. Do you want this, or not?"

You shrieked at the suddenly-appearing pink-haired man clung to the outer bars of your carriage, his face nothing short of bored and pissed off as he held a bottle of water out to you.

"What the fuck-- are you doing up here-- did you climb here?"

Sukuna snorted at you, eyes narrowed and cruel as he took you in, all sweat and tears and skirt tucked all the way up to your hips.

"Look at you, what a fucking mess," he cooed to your furious blushes, eyes brimming with tears again, "you're normally my type, but--"

"Are you just here to make fun of me?" You hiccuped, snatching the bottle of water out of his hand, unscrewing the cap as Sukuna laughed at you. With a wicked glint in his eye, Sukuna jumped his feet against the bars, rocking it, and you shrieked, clinging to the seats and sloshing water over your thighs as he laughed harder.

"Oh baby," he mocked, "you scared of heights? Want me to hold your hand?" He lifted his feet to rock the carriage again, but stopped, frowning as you answered.

"Yes," you hiccuped, "please. Hold my hand." As your little hand slid up the wall of the carriage towards his gripped around the bars, Sukuna snorted, turning his face away from you.

"It's hot," he stated, blunt, "I was told to bring you water. I've done my job. I'm not gonna hold your--"

"Please." His stomach flipped, cock twitching involuntarily inside his uniform as you begged. Sukuna snorted again, ignoring you. As you started to sniffle, weeping, your hand slid down away from his. A heartbeat passed, and you felt a strong, warm hand reach in, fingers plaiting through yours.

"You're pathetic," he mocked, still staring out across the sea, his voice a little softer now, "what the hell are you doing in a Ferris Wheel if you're afraid of heights?"

"I wanted...I wanted to see if I could--"

"Idiot. Now you're stuck here," he snapped, almost sounding concerned, his heart fluttering in a way that made his neck prickle as you rested your tear-dampened cheek against his hand in yours.

You and Sukuna stayed this way, your cheek against your fingers plaited in his. The carriage became gradually bathed in a warm pink sunset, lighting up the coral of his hair. The sway was gentle, a little boat on lilting tide.

Finally, a short jolt rumbled the carriage to life, and it began to trail in a circle back towards the ground.

Just before your carriage ground to a halt, Sukuna spoke, slow and mischievous.

"Hey. Woman."

"What?" you answered, unaware of your skirt hitched up around your waist.

"Cute little panties you've got there."

The shrieks of rage and cackling laughter could be heard all the way down to the beach.

Toji

"You've called-- you've called him in? Are you out of your mind?" Satoru gaped at Nanami, his fellow Captain, gobsmacked as Nanami pursed his lips in irritation.

The fire-truck was parked to the side of the main road; all cars were halted, abandoned, swarmed by rioters in scarves and balaclavas, hundreds upon hundreds of them, a swirling mass of destruction in the streetlights. Riot police vainly attempted to form a blockade, stumbling as bodies slipped past them, shop windows smashing, flaming bottles tossed.

"We need the bodies," Nanami pressed, stripping his t-shirt off, thick muscular arms reaching into the truck to find a clean one, "how often do the riot police call us in for support? Besides, he looks...intimidating. He may serve as a...deterrent."

Satoru snorted derisively, "He was fired for a reason, Nanami, mark my--"

"Hey, kid, long time no see."

Satoru stiffened as a shadow loomed over him, one heavy hand clapping down on his shoulder. Toji smirked, his scar twisted, raising his boot to put out his cigarette on the sole. He stamped his boots into place, his yellow rubber trousers tatty and worn, jacketless and terrifyingly ripped in a tight black t-shirt.

"So..." Toji continued, staring into the chaos ahead of him, "support the cops, yeah?" He sucked his teeth, rolling his shoulders. Nanami nodded, brisk, shoving a helmet towards Toji, grimacing as it was immediately rejected. Nanami shrugged, not wishing to waste time arguing, and directed the firemen towards the crowd to encourage some form of calm.

Toji stayed back, choosing where to go. At a glance, he saw a young woman duck down behind a car, arm raised to toss an egg at the back of a police officer's head. You caught Toji's eye, a bandana pulled up covering your lower face, and he laughed under his breath as your eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Little minx," he muttered, admiring the quiet subversion. Laughing out loud as you tossed the egg, landing a direct hit, Toji moved on, stepping towards a shop, his passive presence alone enough to scatter the looters inside.

The pressure from the crowd built, peaking, and Toji felt the mood in the air change from rave gone overboard to aggression and spite.

Seeing the crowd pulse and surge, Toji spotted you in the front, crushed, buffeted against the officers' riot shields. You caught his eye again, now desperate and pained, instead of playful. Toji felt himself clench, stepping in behind two of the riot officers, who barely had time to glance at him between wild shouts at the crowd.

Easily, with two strong hands, Toji parted the shields just enough for you to drop through, and he caught you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. As you stared up at him, speechless and waiting to be arrested, he looked down at you, the glimmer in his eyes threatening shenanigans.

"I don't know about you," he drawled, low and slow, "but these clowns couldn't break a nail, let alone a crowd." You laughed, tinkling and sweet, and Toji felt a burst of ego for having caused it.

"Ever been in a fire truck, sweetheart?"

Moments later, the fire truck rumbled to life, its sirens ringing and flashing in warning. The pressure of the crowd eased for a moment, hundreds of enquiring eyes on you and Toji in the front seats, one of his hands resting across your belly, protective, shielding you in place.

The enquiring eyes turned fearful as the fire truck reversed, then slowly swung to face the crowd and riot officers alike, revving.

With a smirk, Toji allowed the truck to jolt forwards. The crowd cried out collectively, its stance breaking, dozens of people scattering to escape the scene. Revving again, the truck jolted forwards once more, harder this time. Half the crowd stumbled, falling over themselves to run. With one final booming rev, the crowd shrieked and shouted, scattering like spiders up and down the length of the street, no act of protest apparently worth getting run over for.

And as you and Toji were pulled, laughing, from the fire-truck, both being slammed and cuffed against the nearest police car, your eyes met, and your bandana slipped down to reveal your lovely grin.

Toji smirked, heads on the car facing each other. Shooting you a wink which made you giggle and blush, he snorted to think that maybe he was just the right dismissed ex-fireman to get the job done.

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Wheeeee, rescue me fire daddies 🚒🔥

834 notes · View notes

loeyparker · 2 years

Text

safe - e.m. 1/3

summary: you and eddie see eachother for the first time after you broke the friendship to protect him from the upside down

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of drugs, strong language, mentions of violence, throwing things

tags: no s4 spoilers, friends to enemies to lovers-ish, angst

a/n: i would die for each and everyone of u who supported this, no joke

( NEXT CHAPTER )

Eddie Munson sat on a lounge chair by the pool, unlit cigarette hanging by the corner of his mouth. His metal lunchbox stood by his boots, on the stoned ground. His right leg bounced up and down with quickness, his fingers fiddled with the rings on his right hand.

Strands of uncombed, curly hair fell in his face, covering a portion of his darkened eyes. He sat slouched, elbows resting on his knees.

His eyes were locked on the crowd inside the house, which could be clearly seen through the glass double doors leading to the pool.

“Man, what you dressed as?” A dull voice drew out, approaching the boy.

Eddie pursed his lips in annoyance.

From inside the house, Michael Jackson’s Beat It played loudly and unforgiving of the neighbors who might had been trying to sleep.

“Just a guy on business, man. You want something?” Eddie monotonously asked, already bored of the entire ordeal. While he was used to parties, used to the motions of attending them just to sell his stuff for an easy buck, on that particular night Eddie was annoyed.

“Yeah, lemme see how much cash I got. Hold on.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what had annoyed him exactly.

Maybe it was the simple fact that he was attending a party of ’85 graduates – he was supposed to be one of them, but fate wanted him to go through the motions of senior year for three years in a row instead of two.

Or, maybe, it was the call he’d gotten a few hours prior from The Hideout’s management, canceling his band’s performance of the week for another stupid event. It wasn’t as if missing a week of performing would realistically damage his band in any way, but Eddie hated when his plans were derailed.

But truthfully, what had annoyed Eddie Munson the most that night was seeing you in the crowd of the party, dancing to Michael Jackson with Steve Harrington – and Robin Buckley, but Eddie honestly hadn’t seen her.

Eddie grabbed his stash, opening the box with a screech of the rusted metal. “The ounce is 50.” He spoke, glancing at the jock ahead of him.

“Ah, man. How much is half?”

“25.” Eddie sniffled, the cold of the night getting to him.

As the jock dug around his pockets more, Eddie found his eyes drifting back to the crowd – back to you.

Despite there being about ten other people crammed around you, Eddie’s eyes found your shape with ease and quickness. But, to Eddie’s defense, it was hard not to spot you.

A strapped white dress laid tight over your body, its satin fabric shining slightly in the lights of the living room. A diamond diadem was on top of your head, over the now straight locks of hair. From the crown of your head, blood traced over the sides of your face, past your nose and over your lips, all the way down your neck. Some trickles of blood went into your exposed cleavage, others stained over your dress completely.

Eddie knew immediately that you were dressed as Carrie.

His eyes could only seem to focus on the way your hips swayed to the music, on your hair wildly flailing around as you moved, on the way you leaned with each beat.

Beat it, and you were leaning backwards, head thrown back, neck on display – Steve Harrington leaning forward and closer to you.

Beat it, and you leaned forward, chest down, shoulders moving, lower lip in-between your teeth, biting back a smile – Steve leaned backwards, head thrown as he laughed.

Beat it, and you leaned back again, this time laughing. It seemed as if you and Steve had an entire routine down, and Eddie couldn’t help but scoff. The way you danced was effortless and mesmerizing – but Eddie expected no less, especially since he’d seen you dance in his trailer countless times before. You had also been a cheerleader in high school, so it was not surprising that your moves managed to get the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

His eyes met yours after you’d been spun by Robin and it felt like the world ceased to spin for a moment. The song faded from both your ears, Eddie couldn’t hear the jock trying to buy half an ounce from him, you couldn’t feel Tina bumping into you on the dance floor.

Eddie wore a black hoodie with a jean vest on top. His bangs covered a portion of his eyes, along with a couple of loose strands falling out of the hood. He was brooding and he was far from you, but when your eyes met it felt as if he was breathing down your neck. Your chest tightened, your knees buckled and he didn’t tear his gaze away from you.

Sweet Dreams began playing throughout the house, its imposing bass bringing your feet back on the ground.

With his eyes on you, Eddie then rose his left hand to his shoulder, tapping it lightly with his index finger. Instinctively, you touched your own right shoulder, feeling it too bare, all of a sudden. With your thumb resting on your collar bone and the rest of your fingers gently brushing over the exposed shoulder, you realized the strap of your dress had slipped down.

Eddie smirked – a small, almost unnoticeable movement of his mouth and yet, a motion that made the apples of your cheeks to grow slightly hotter. Quickly, you pulled your dress back up, broke eye contact with Eddie and pushed your way out of the dance floor and towards the kitchen – you were in desperate need of a drink.

Steve Harrington followed you.

“Got the money, man?” Eddie mumbled, the cigarette pressing against his lips. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled a beat-up lighter and lit his cigarette. The lighter clanked when he shut its lid.

“Yeah, yeah, right here.” The jock handed Eddie two bills – a 20 and a 5. Eddie shoved them in his pocket, then handed the blond guy a bag, no words exchanged. “Thanks, man.” The bag was snatched out of the metalhead’s hand, and the jock disappeared back inside the house.

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, cigarette butt between his fingers. The smoke veiled his nose and burnt the back of his throat, but he didn’t mind it. He was used to it – loved it. Glancing at his watch, he tried to justify his sudden need to leave the party. He’d only been there for half an hour; it was crazy that he was already bored.

But maybe seeing you with Harrington was enough to push him over the edge.

Deep in thought, hand over his face, Eddie didn’t hear heels clanking against the pavement, approaching him with determination.

“You okay?” Your voice made him freeze. Ash from his cigarette hit the ground and he could feel his heart beats making the veins in his neck pump harder. His hard trailed down his neck as he supported his head, glancing up at you.

He scoffed. “Yeah, just, uh,” he trailed off, a bitter smile on his lips. A short sizzling sound filled the air as he took a drag out of his cigarette, blowing smoke up in the air.

“What?” Your lips parted and a chill ran down your spine. The October air was unkind to your Halloween attire, but you refused to go back inside.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically, the corners of his mouth turned down, he shrugged. With a head shake, he looked away from you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He finally asked, tone condescending.

“I come with a peace offering.” You smiled softly, holding up two cans of Eddie’s favorite beer. Again, he puffed and looked away from you in disbelief. The beer was an olive branch he was unsure of grabbing, especially after what happened the last time you two spoke.

“Thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” His voice was stoic, low.

You pursed your lips, taking a slow step closer to him. “I’m sorry, I was…” you switched your weight from one foot to the other. “I was young, and stupid, and,”

“Power hungry?” Eddie bit back. “Conformist? Fake?”

You looked away, eyes pointed towards the starry sky. There was a hollow feeling in your chest, only becoming deeper as Eddie spoke. You didn’t blame Eddie for viewing you that way. From his point of view, you stopped being his friend soon after making the cheer team and becoming friends with Steve Harrington and the popular crowd.

You went from hanging out on a daily basis, to Eddie not seeing you for almost a month. You had stopped answering his calls and he was sick of your mom answering the phone and telling him some phony excuse – oh, Eddie, darling; she’s at Nancy’s, you just missed her. She’s at the Byers, poor them. She’s got cheer practice today, won’t be home ‘till late.

He was sick of it, especially because he knew it was all bullshit.

On the day you were supposed to be at practice, he saw you in town buying bear traps with Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler. When he was told you were at Nancy’s, he saw you in Byers’ car late at night, driving through the town.

And then school was closed for a week due to a gas leak, and you had dropped off the face of the Earth. He sometimes drove past your house in the hope of seeing you, but your curtains were always shut, light never on. Unbeknown to him, you had spent the entire week either by Will’s side at the hospital, or with Mike, who was upset over Eleven “dying”. Being Will’s babysitter, you felt personally responsible for the boy’s disappearance. You had been with Eddie that night, at a concert in Indianapolis – how could you not feel guilty?

But Eddie didn’t know any of that, and you decided you were never going to tell him. The Upside Down, the government’s involvement – it was all too much, too dangerous. Unmarked cars had followed you for a month after the entire ordeal, secret agents watching your every move.

And you couldn’t have Eddie involved in all that.

So, you avoided him for as long as possible. You started sitting at the jock’s table with Steve and Nancy, your spot at his table remaining empty. Jonathan started driving you to school and you spent your free time in the library or at practice. You avoided his eyes at lunch and turned from him in the hallways.

You called him a freak and told him to leave you alone on the day he tried to confront you about your behavior.

“The fuck is up with you?” Eddie frowned, letting go of your arm. You backed away, heart racing.

“I just think we should just focus on our social groups and status.” You spoke after taking a deep breath. “We’re different people now, we’re not kids anymore.”

“You wanna stop being friends, is that it?” Eddie frowned, rising up to his feet. He towered over you with ease, and you straightened your back, keeping his gaze.

“Yes.”

Both your stomachs dropped at your words.

Your nose and throat stung as you watched Eddie’s gaze turn sour, his lips settling into a scowl. He had never looked at you like that, in all the years of knowing you. In his eyes, in that moment, you saw nothing but disgust.

“Fine.” He had simply said.

You gave him a sharp nod and quickly turned around, eyes focused on Jonathan waiting for you in his car. He had seen the entire interaction and watched you with concerned eyes – but he also understood. “Don’t think for one fuckin’ second I would want to be friends with the new mean, popular conformist sheep of Hawkins High, anyway!” Eddie yelled after you, his voice becoming higher and croaky.

You got into Jonathan’s car without sparing Eddie another glance, and tears spewed down your cheeks the moment you were out of the school’s parking lot.

You had managed to last two years without talking to Eddie.

Two years during which your anxiety worsened, your popularity increased and the Upside Down became more threatening.

“Yeah,” You gave a weak chuckle, eyes back on Eddie. “I guess.” Music still blared from inside. You could only focus on the way the pool lights danced over his features. He had matured since the last time you’d seen him up-close. His jaw was more defined, cheeks more sculpted.

A moment of silence passed between you two as he took another drag. There was a slit in your dress, he noticed. It allowed his eyes to wonder up your barely exposed thigh – and you watched him look.

“What changed?” He asked, eyes snapping up at yours.

The gate closed, you thought. And you missed him. But, quite frankly, you were also exhausted. Exhausted of running away from your feelings for the boy and from the anxieties of your new reality and you needed an escape.

“Suddenly gained back consciousness?” Eddie continued – which actually pissed you off. He was condescending and mean and yeah, you might have hurt him two years ago, but you did it to save him. You saved him and you suffered and he thought you were some mean, brainwashed girl.

And in that moment, your exhaustion and stubbornness overpowered your lingering feelings for your once best friend. You placed the beer cans on a small glass table by the chairs. Your arms folded to your chest, fake blood smearing off your hands and onto the white, satin dress. “I wanna buy.” You spoke, clearing your voice. “Not weed, something stronger.”

Eddie frowned.

Bending forward, he pushed the cigarette into the ground, putting it out. “No.” He spoke, looking up at you through his fringe.

Your eyes widened slightly, lips parted. “What?”

“I’m not selling you shit.”

A bitter laugh left your mouth. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip and Eddie watched your every move. “Wow, you hate me that much, huh? Did I hurt your ego so bad that you can’t let go of a fight two years later?”

With a sharp move, Eddie got up on his feet.

He towered over you with ease, despite the heels on your feet. His eyes were stoic, harsh. One step, and his chest almost touched yours. Your feet remained plastered on the ground, not being intimidated by the man in the slightest.

On the contrary, you were comforted.

His presence was something you had missed, his proximity craved. Having his cologne and smoky breath filling your senses once more was a high you didn’t know you longed for until then.

“Do you even know me, at all?” Eddie whispered, eyes studying your face. Since last seeing you, a scar appeared on the left side of your temple, your eyes darkened. Your lips got plumper, your perfume sweeter.

“Better than I know myself.” You replied, chest rising up and down with more intensity.

Eddie tutted, shaking his head. “I don’t think you do.” His tongue ran over his lips. “I think you have me confused for Harrington.” He spat, bitterly. And then his right hand cupped your face, thumb and index finger pressing into your cheeks, holding your face in place. You tried to move in annoyance, but he didn’t let you. “If I hated you, I would’ve taken you to my place, sold you my strongest shit for easy cash. But I don’t hate you, do I?” His fingers pressed harder, eyes stuck on yours. “That’s the problem, Y/L/N. I don’t hate you.” He let go of your face with quickness, taking a step back.

He bent down to pick up his lunchbox as you took in a deep breath.

“I need the drugs, Eddie.” You pleaded, watching his every move. “Don’t make me beg.”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath. “Go back to the party, Y/N.” He walked past you without a second glance, and you found yourself reaching out for him. Upon the contact he paused, back turned to you.

“Just this once, and then you’ll never see me again. Please.”

“I can’t.”

You let go of his arm, taking a step back. “Great.” You laughed bitterly. “Great. You won’t take my beer, won’t sell me drugs…I’m out of options here.”

“Y/N, what’s this about?” Eddie frowned, turning to you once again.

You laughed.

He grew worried.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, the movement exaggerated, comical even. Your arms flailed sideways, then met in a clap. “I guess I just need something to fill the big, black hole in my chest.” You laughed again, finding the situation genuinely funny. "Drugs seem like the only option at this point, and you have 'em!"

Eddie, on the other hand, was worried. He’d never seen you like that. And while you hurt him deeply two years prior, he couldn’t stop caring about you. No matter what he did, you were always on his mind and part of him always believed you’d return to him.

He just never thought it’d be like this.

“Wanna come with me?” He found himself asking. He couldn’t tell if you were drunk, or high on something – or genuinely upset. He just knew you couldn’t be left alone in that moment.

You took his hand with no hesitation, and he walked you to his van.

Inside, you almost sunk into the seat. You had spent so much time in that seat before, that just being inside Eddie’s van felt like home. Tears stung your eyes as Eddie revved the ignition, and so you had to turn away.

Eddie didn’t know what to say.

He just couldn’t believe you were in his van again, and you were wearing the prettiest dress in the world, looking breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Sorry I'm acting crazy." You mumbled, eyes on the view outside. "I'm just a little bit overwhelmed, you know? Still mentally stuck at Starcourt."

Eddie pursed his lips. He also felt stuck there, to some extent.

Eddie had been close to the mall that night, dealing out of his van to some jock.

He watched as three firetrucks rode by, followed by around five or six ambulances. He saw the helicopters in the sky and the large, army-looking trucks passing just moments after the emergency vehicles. The jock ran to his own car and drove off, scared by the commotion, by the army presence and the weed in his possession.

Eddie, on the other hand, followed the vehicles out of nothing but morbid curiosity because – what now? What could cause such a scene in the small, quiet Hawkins, less than a year after the disappearance of the century?

Arriving at Starcourt, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

The large mall stood burning, covered in the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. There were soldiers surrounding the outskirts of the place, with firemen and paramedics rushing among them.

He saw Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers getting into an ambulance, he saw a bloodied Steve Harrington clutching a blanket over his shoulders, protectively standing by someone’s side – by your side, more specifically.

You were sitting in an ambulance, feet dangling over the wet ground. Eddie remembers the feeling in his chest, the hollowness and panic that overcame him at your sight. A paramedic was checking your wounds, another placed a deep blue blanket over your shoulders. Eddie left his van with quickness, feet carrying him towards you mindlessly. His hair was dampening in the rain, his socks got wet as his sneakers stepped into puddles.

He couldn't understand what you were doing there, couldn't understand how you sustained your injuries. You looked like hell - exhausted and covered in blood.

Eddie was desperate to get to you that night, but two soldiers stopped him before he could get close. And all he could do was watch as you spoke to Joyce Byers, then burst into tears. Steve wrapped his arms around you in an instant, and you sobbed into his shoulder, hands clutching onto his shirt.

The sounds of your sobs along with the sirens and the helicopters flying up above were sounds that hunted Eddie to this day.

Back in the van with you by his side, Eddie sighed. "I get it." Was all he could mutter. "It's okay to act crazy sometimes, though." He added after a brief moment of silence.

"Is it?"

"Hell yeah. It releases tension." The boy glanced at you quickly, eyes meeting once again. He felt short of breath. "I act crazy all the time, and aren't I carefree?" Eddie joked further.

You puffed. "Very carefree." Eddie nodded. "Never angry."

"Never." He frowned jokingly, looking at you again.

You smiled.

"I might be biased, though." He spoke back up, not looking away from you. The van had stopped at a red light, so he could focus on you entirely. "You know how attracted I am to craziness."

Pursing your glossy lips, you looked down at your lap. A blush threatened to form on your cheeks as you felt Eddie's gaze on you. Time had caused you to forget just how intoxicating his gaze was, and now that you had it once again, you felt strange. Nervous.

Giddy almost.

“Do you still listen to Blondie?” He changed the subject when the light turned green.

“Yeah.” You quickly cleared your throat before turning to Eddie. “But, can I tell you a secret?” You asked, biting your lip.

Eddie glanced at you quickly, before looking back at the road. “Of course.”

“I started listening to Black Sabbath, too.”

Eddie almost crashed the car into a couple of trashcans on the side of the road. “You did not!” He exclaimed, wide eyes looking at you.

You laughed. “I did!”

“And?” He drew out, expectantly.

“And they’re not half bad.”

Eddie drummed his hands on the wheel, causing your grin to widen. He was also smiling and for a moment, it was as if nothing bad had happened between you. “Not half bad?” He exclaimed theatrically. “They’re one of the greatest bands of our generation!”

“Eh, they’re no Beatles.” You teased, head leaning back into the seat, eyes on Eddie.

“I’ll crash the car right now.” He joked, making you laugh. And he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger on you for a second too long because man, you were pretty. And his heart only ached, knowing that you were probably in love with Harrington and you had only talked to Eddie to get drugs.

His mood soured at the thought and he was suddenly glad your house was close to Tina’s. The drive from the party to your home hadn’t taken longer than ten minutes, and he decided this would be the last time he’d be in your vicinity. Because within ten minutes, you managed to have him wrapped around your finger again and he knew – he knew that once you sobered up the next day, you’d go back to your pristine life and forget about him again.

He couldn’t go through senior year again, again and again. It was enough that he had to repeat the damn year at school, he didn’t wanna do it emotionally as well.

"Why are we at my house?" You asked, confused.

Eddie sighed. "You're upset, and messed up. I couldn’t exactly leave you at the party.” He gripped the steering wheel as he pulled onto your driveway – something he used to do so often long before.

“Wow, thanks.” You snapped, then opened the door.

Eddie was quick to lean over you, shutting the door back up. “What the fuck?” You retorted, feeling his chest against your thighs.

“Why did you come up to me tonight?” He asked, sitting back in his spot. “Was it really just for drugs? I have to know.”

“Maybe I missed you.”

“That’s bullshit.” He puffed, rolling his eyes.

“What? Is that so hard to believe?” Your voice rose slightly.

“Uh, yeah, since you were the one who dumped me!”

“I didn’t dump you!” You grabbed a cassette off his dashboard, chucking it at the man. He dodged with ease.

“You threw me to the curb because, what? You found out Harrington was better? Popularity tasted better than being associated with the freak?” His voice boomed.

“Steve has nothing to do with this!”

Eddie laughed bitterly. “Right, go ahead, defend him.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You scoffed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am messed up, since I thought talking to you would be a good idea.” And again, you turned towards the door.

“That’s right, go. Run, as always.”

Your hand froze on the handle as anger bubbled in your chest. “For the record, I don’t run. I never ran from anything in my life.”

“Yeah, only from one thing.”

It seemed as if Eddie had a firing shot for everything you said – and he did. Because the fight had been brewing for two years, along with the tension caused by unspoken words. There were many things on Eddie Munson’s mind, and he wanted to say them all. “From me.”

Another cassette flew his way.

“I didn’t run from you! I saved you!” You shouted, angry.

“From what? Having to attend your cheer competitions? Meeting your popular friends?” He shouted back, equally angry.

“Oh my God! There’s more to life than high school shit! This isn’t about social status, you asshole! I saved your fuckin’ life!” Another cassette. “Saved you from death!” Another cassette was in the air, when Eddie grabbed both your wrists into his hands.

“What are you talking about?” His face was inches from you, hair unruly from the hood that had slipped off.

The cassette fell out of your hand and onto his lap.

“I don’t wanna fight you, okay?” Your voice became quiet all of a sudden – yet, your chest still moved with quickness. “You gotta understand that all I wanted was for you to be safe.”

“Safe from what?” His hands then let go of your wrists, instead moving to hold your face, thumbs resting by the corners of your mouth. With free hands, you placed them over his wrists, overwhelmed by the proximity. "Talk to me, Y/N. Just for once, talk."

“From bad stuff, okay? Safe from life threatening stuff.”

“You’re involved in life threatening stuff?” His thumbs gently went over your bottom lip as you nodded. “You don’t have to protect me, Indiana Jones.” You let out a short laugh at his nickname, causing the inkling of a smile to thug at his own lips. “If you’re involved, I’m simply involved by association. There’s no you without me, remember? And vice versa.”

You shook your head. “Not with this. I can handle myself, but you’re just a nerd with a guitar.” You joked, sly smile on your lips.

He chuckled. “And you’re a dancer with pompons.” His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips, then back up.

“Who kicks ass.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm. I’m sort of a…Wonder Woman out in the field.”

The right corner of his mouth turned upwards. His thumbs still stroked over your lips, pressing onto them ever so slightly. His eyes, as they traced your features, landed on a scar that stood on the left side of your temple. It had yet to heal and suddenly, Eddie felt the hidden heaviness of your words.

His mind flashed back to Starcourt, then to Hopper’s funeral for a brief moment, and he remembered the bandages on your right arm, the busted lip, the bruises and scars on your face. Most had healed by Halloween, but they still lingered on his mind.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He asked.

You shook your head, hands leaving his wrists.

“Please, I wanna help.”

You shook your head again, pulling away from his touch.

“Who hurt you last summer?” Eddie asked as his hands fell off your face.

“I can’t, Eddie.” Your voice cracked as you opened the passenger’s door. “Just, forget we talked.” You spoke as you left his van, rushing up the stairs to your house, without sparing him another glance.

And Eddie could only sit and watch you run from him again, just as you had done two years prior, after breaking your friendship.

Only this time, Eddie wasn’t going to let you go.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagines

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stray-kaz · 8 months

Text

Buoyant : a Roronoa Zoro x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Zoro finds himself unexpectedly falling for the young single mother Nami rescued, along with her little girl.

The gentle rise and fall of the rolling sea stirred you to wake, inching over onto your side to search for your daughter. Your eyes, once sealed shut by sleep, flew open when you didn't feel her beside you, the once warm depression where her body had lain now cool and empty.

"Amada?"

You scrambled out of the bed and threw on clothes, hastily buttoning and shoving your already socked feet into your boots. You didn't think that any of the crew members of the ship would let anything happen to her, but your heart remained lodged high in your throat until your boots met the deck and you glimpsed an unforgettable sight.

Roronoa Zoro gripped a wooden sword, the second of the pair being grasped fiercely by a much smaller hand, jewel bright eyes fixed on the swordsman's face.

Your daughter's long dark hair was pulled back from her face in an untidy ponytail, undoubtedly the work of Zoro himself, fingers perfect wrapped around the hilt of a sword but clumsy with a little girl's hair. Especially a little girl who was looking up at him like he lassoed the sun just for her.

You sat down on one of the wooden stairs to watch, not saying a word or making a sound. You drew your knees up to rest your chin on them, staring intently as Zoro put your five year old through her paces, teaching her slowly how to step and parry and weave.

"Cute, huh?"

You glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice to see Nami standing above you.

"I didn't know he could be like this" you admitted quietly.

She snorted and dropped down next to you on the stairs.

"You'd be surprised."

"Did she ask him to show her?" you asked, curious.

Nami shook her head.

"No. Luffy dared her to see if she could take his sword without him noticing. He noticed."

You sucked in your breath, your gaze snapping back across the empty deck to your daughter, your heart walking around outside your body. Nami put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Don't worry" she said softly. "All he did was tell her that his was too sharp, too dangerous for her to play with, but if she wanted to learn, he could teach her."

Nami rolled her eyes as she continued.

"Zoro knows it was Luffy's idea, not Amada's. He'll look after her."

More footsteps and a plate of pastries was extended beneath your nose.

"Tangerine tart?" Sanji inquired casually. "Breakfast and a show, darling?"

You looked up at him and took one.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He sat down a few steps behind you and it wasn't long before Usopp and Luffy joined him, drawn by the smell of fresh baking.

"How long do you think it'll be before he realises he has an audience?" Usopp murmured.

Not long, apparently. Before you could answer, Zoro turned and looked right at you, his unfathomable dark eyes fixed on yours. You didn't notice you were holding your breath until Amada tossed down her wooden sword and threw herself across the deck to you, cutting through the tension with a giddy laugh.

"Mama!" she crowed in your ear, making you wince. "Roro is teaching me how to sword fight!"

You held her tightly, meeting his eyes again over her head.

"Is he now?" you murmured, and kissed her cheek. "Are you listening carefully to everything he tells you?"

Amada nodded enthusiastically and bounced up to snatch a tart from the plate Sanji was holding out to her. You stood up and Zoro strode across the ship's deck towards you. You were standing in his way, but he just sidestepped you neatly and jogged up the steps, reaching down to ruffle Amada's ponytail as he went.

Something hot and bright burned in your chest and you followed him, still painfully aware of the collective gazes of Luffy and his crew all watching after you.

Zoro spun before you could get within touching distance of him, and you remembered Nami telling you how protective he was of his back. He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked.

You arched an eyebrow back and held up the tart you still hadn't bitten into.

"You hungry after playing swords with my kid?" you retorted.

He shook his head, but you were standing close enough to see his pupils expand as you bit through the pastry to the filling, sweetness filling your mouth.

"I was not playing" he snapped.

"You cannot pretend you were not just playing with my daughter and ruffling her hair. There were witness, Roronoa."

Zoro snorted, fighting the shiver that rippled the length of his spine at the sound of his given name spilling over your lips.

"They are unreliable witnesses. You realise they're all basically certifiable?"

You swallowed and his gaze tracked the line of your throat.

"But I'm not" you said stubbornly.

Zoro sighed.

"I think salt's gotten in your eyes" he muttered flatly.

Your other eyebrow lifted.

"I think you've gotten in my eyes."

You watched his eyes widen a little before he tried to hide his surprise and play off cool, but the edge of his smile shattered the illusion and you bit back a shy grin before he shrugged his shoulders and turned his back on you.

You had just taken another bite when Nami snuck up next to you and elbowed you in the ribs. You yelped and eyed her.

"You like him!" she sang, smirking.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks and glanced away, chewing furiously. Usopp tore past you both and caught up to Zoro just before he disappeared in the direction of his room. He jabbed his elbow into his side, grinning profusely.

"You like her!" he crooned.

Zoro pinned him with a dark stare and shook his head.

"No. I don't" he said sternly. "You're all losing your damn minds. Not that you had much there to begin with."

He shoved away from Usopp, but he didn't get far before a streak of dark hair and patchwork clothes shot after him and launched onto his back. Zoro grunted, then hitched Amada higher to grip his shoulders properly so she wouldn't fall. She giggled and kissed him hard on the cheek before laying her head on his shoulder as he carried her deeper into the ship, ignoring Usopp's broad grin.

He was not going soft. He did not like you.

The shoulders of the sea heaved and rocked under the Going Merry and black rain and salt lashed the window mere feet from your bed. A particularly hard jolt sent you gasping upright, clawing at the sheet. A glance to your right told you Amada was still sleeping soundly; a week's worth of lessons with Zoro left her exhausted by the close of each day and a hurricane wouldn't rouse her.

You slowly slipped from the bed and padded quietly across the floor, catching your balance against the wall and the door frame as the ocean continued to protest your presence above it.

Only a few lamps burned in the ship's halls, so you worked your way into the depths mostly in darkness, the shadows flickering all around you.

You barely recognised where you were headed, your half asleep mind refusing to cooperate, but the moment you laid eyes on Zoro's tightly closed door, you understood. He was a steady structure in the face of a storm, and a nightmare.

You didn't knock, just turned the handle and slipped inside, reclosing the door at your back. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you saw Zoro flat on his back in the middle of his bed, one arm down by his side and the other flung up covering his eyes. He was semi dressed as he slept, a light cotton shirt open to just above his navel. A white sheet covered the rest of him.

You shuffled over to the side of the bed and eased onto the mattress, biting your lip as it compressed a little under your weight. But Zoro didn't move, so you continued, crawling over him before slowly, so slowly, settling your body over his, your head tilted on his chest so you saw as one eye cracked open.

You expected him to shove you aside, to throw you out, but instead he just closed that eye and shifted his arms to wrap around you, locking you comfortably against him. You turned your head to press you ear flat against his chest, the steady thud of his heart acting as a lullaby.

It wasn't long before the storm and your nightmare disappeared into the recesses of your memory and you fell asleep.

The heat of the morning sun woke you and you shook your head to clear it of the early brain fog, quickly realising you were not in your own bed and you were laying snugly on top of someone else. You opened your eyes properly and blinked at Zoro, who was already awake and watching you, waiting for you to regain consciousness.

"Hello, sleepyhead" he murmured, his voice throaty from sleep. "Nightmare?"

You nodded and tried to pull away, sit up, but he just rested his hand on the back of your head and stroked your hair, your eyes struggling to remain open with his touch.

"Don't like storms" you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes.

Zoro huffed a laugh and gave you an amused half smile.

"Really? And you live on a ship?"

You shrugged and nestled closer to him until the top of your head rested just underneath his chin.

"Nami rescued us" you reminded him. "I am grateful for that every day. A few storms are easy payment for feeling safe."

As if in response to your words, his free arm tightened around you again and he swallowed hard.

"Do you?" he asked quietly. "Feel safe here?"

You pushed up, shuffling to sit over his hips, and this time, he didn't stop you, just stared up at you, your hair falling forward to curtain your face. He reached to push it away, gathered it together in his fist, a makeshift ponytail.

"Yes, I feel safe here" you answered him softly. "I don't fear for Amada every day anymore. I know she has Luffy to protect her. She has you."

A faint flush bled into his cheeks and he blinked slowly, his eyelids suddenly heavy, but he didn't try to look away.

"I have you?"

The question was unsure on your tongue, bittersweet. But in spite of all his protestations to the contrary, Zoro hadn't even felt the crumbling earth beneath his feet before he fell for you. He did like you.

Zoro didn't give you a verbal answer. He just wrapped a hand around your nape and tugged you down, rising up to meet you halfway, his fingers branding your skin and his lips warm from sleep as they pressed against yours.

Your eyes fluttered closed and one of your hands found his jaw, holding it as if it were made of glass.

Zoro pulled back after several seconds and whispered into your skin.

"I'll chase away your nightmares any time, flower."

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x female reader #liss writes #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro

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yeollie-plz · 5 months

Text

Maids A Milking

Day 8 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: You are pretty far along in your pregnancy and you are finding a few new issues that come with it. Joel helps you out.

Genre: smut

Warnings: lactation kink, fingering, pregnancy, mentions of babies, mentions of medical issues, pregnancy kink

Gif credits to owners!

You were now seven months pregnant and things were gradually getting more painful to do. Your body ached, your feet were swollen, and your boobs hurt. All of this would be bad enough, if you weren't also horny all the time as well. Just the smell of your husband, Joel, got you all hot and bothered.

So when he walked in that day and you were sitting on the couch, shirt open, massaging your sore breasts, an idea popped into your head. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor got louder as he got closer. Finally his form came into view, his eyebrows raising in question at the movement of your hands.

"They hurt." You said to him, without him needing to ask. "Can you help me?" The implication of your words wasn't lost on Joel.

"Darlin' I don't know. I-"

You cut him off, "Joel, please." Now you were basically whining.

"Baby", he warned.

"I just need you to drain some of the milk, they are so full." You were desperate for some relief and if it also got him into the mood, well you weren't complaining.

The seduction that was dripping from your words finally drew Joel towards you. Crossing the room, he stood over you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, stroking your jawline.

"Do you know what you're asking from me?" All you do is nod in response. His eyes darken as he drops to his knees.

Lightly he removes your own hands from your breasts and replaces it with his own. He massages softly, causing you to whimper out at the slight pain.

"So sensitive." You whisper.

He hums in response and continues to massage. He starts to massage deeper, letting you to get some real relief.

"Joel please, put your mouth on me." He follows your orders, first kissing your nipple, before wrapping his mouth around it.

He sucks for a bit before pulling off with a light pop. Joel blows onto your nipple making it harden at the cold temperature. Whining again at the way he is teasing you, you squirm, hips bucking slightly.

"Really getting turned on for me, aren't you baby?"

You words are more like a whimpered when you say, "Yes, need you."

He replies by reattaching his lips to your now overly sensitive nipples, resuming his sucking. He focuses on the right breast for a bit, massaging and sucking it. Your hips continue to buck as you want more of him. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at how desperate you are and places a hand on your hips to hold you still.

He now moves onto your left boob, doing the same thing to it as he was to the right one. A gasp leaves your lips as he sucks particularly hard, causing a bit of milk to leak from your breast and into his mouth.

A sound of content comes out of him at the taste of you. Your gasps continue as he continues to suckle milk from your breast. The soreness that was previously there now fading as a bit of the pressure is released.

When he feels you have had enough, he pulls off of you. He scans your body trying to read your emotions. You are slumped back, trying to catch your breath. He laughs lightly. Joel runs his hand down your chest to the button of your pants.

"Look so pretty all swollen with my child baby, let me show you my gratitude." He pops the button of your pants open and helps you to shimmy them down just enough to reveal your dripping center to him.

His fingers swipe across the outside of your panties, feeling how soaked you have made them. You moan out at the smallest of touches, causing him to chuckle once again.

Joel pushes his hand past your waistband, now feeling your wetness fully. He barely teases the the slit before inserting a finger into you. Your hips buck up in response, finally getting the stretch that you needed.

He reattaches his mouth to your right tit, sucking on the nipple harshly. He lets his teeth scrape against it, causing you to moan and grab his shoulder for some sort of grounding.

He continues his motions on both your nipple and core. The feeling sending you close to the edge very quickly. As your moans increase, so does his pace. Knowing that you are close, he inserts another finger into.

His thrusts quicken, trying to drag your orgasm out of you. Just as you are tipped over the edge, milk bursts from your breast into Joel's mouth. The two feelings together make the orgasm so much more intense. You see white, moaning endlessly. You are now twisting with no control on Joel's hand.

His fingers work you through your orgasm as he happily sucks the milk from your breast. As your breathing calms he slowly pulls his fingers from inside of you and detaches his mouth from your nipple.

"Better?"

"Better."

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

Taglist:

@britlord @kittenlittle24 @godlypresley @amyispxnk

#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #12 days of pedromas #pedromas #joel miller x reader #joel miller story #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #the last of us joel #last of us joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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storiesforallfandoms · 6 months

Text

kneel ~ loki laufeyson;mcu

word count: 3541

request?: no

description: after finally being fed up with loki’s pranks, she finds out something about her friend’s little brother, something that intrigues her greatly

pairing: loki laufeyson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Thor since we were both kids, and that meant I had known Loki just as long. Loki was always Thor’s annoying little brother who lived up to his “God of Mischief” title a little too much. He had always loved to pull pranks on Thor and his friends, and he was the only one who enjoyed any of those pranks.

They started when we were kids - small, innocent pranks that were annoying, but not terrible. It was when they continued into our teenage and young adult years that they became a problem.

It was no use talking to Thor about it. He loved his little brother too much, even if he didn’t like the pranks either. He’d always just say, “He is the God of Mischief. It is just within his nature.”

I was pushed to the edge one day when I returned to my quarters to find a surprise waiting for me in my bed. Everyone knew of my fear of snakes. This information had unfortunately reached Loki as well. I had been waiting for him to use that information against me, but eventually I managed to forget he even knew. Until I got back to my quarters, kicked off my boots, and pulled back the covers to flop onto my bed, only to find it was full of snakes.

I shrieked and fell flat onto my ass. My heart was pounding as one of the snakes stretched its body out to put its face in mine. My fear was quickly replaced by anger as I realized exactly who put them there. I got to my feet and stormed out the door.

Loki was in the palace garden by himself. He was lucky I didn’t have any of my weapons, even though I could do just as much damage without them. I stormed up to him and, when he turned to face me, I swung. My fist connected with his cheek, knocking him to the ground. He had the audacity to look up at me in shock as he cupped his cheek.

“I have had enough of your bullshit, Loki!” I sneered. “Your tricks are going too far. Now you will pay!”

He tried to stutter something out, but I cut him off with a kick to the gut. I heard him wheeze as he fell onto his back, clutching his stomach. I knew I’d be in huge trouble if anyone were to catch us. Whether I was Thor’s friend or not didn’t matter when I was beating the shit out of the Asgardian prince. But I was far from caring at that point.

I drew back my leg and kicked him again, sending him rolling across the ground again. He quickly scrambled to his knees, holding his hands up to stop my assaults.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “I’m sorry. The snakes were too far, you’re right.”

“Why should I accept your apology?” I asked. “Nothing has ever stopped you before. Why should I believe you won’t put more snakes in my quarters once I’ve forgotten about this?”

“Please, I promise you I will never pull any pranks on you ever again. I have learned my lesson. You have my word on that.”

His word often meant nothing. He was the trickster god after all. I wouldn’t trust his word as far as I could throw him.

But there was something about the way he looked right now; on his knees, looking up at me with his big, blue eyes, his chest rising and falling with every panted breath as he tried to recover from my attack. His words were lost as I just looked at him. The thoughts that started to fill my mind were not ones I would’ve ever thought I could have about Loki.

When I realized what I was thinking, I quickly snapped out of my trance wans said, “I believe you” before turning to rush back to my quarters.

I closed my door and leaned back against it. I had completely forgotten about the creatures Loki had left in my bed, but now they were gone. I guess he had used his magic to get rid of them sometime between my attack and hasty departure. I tried to channel that anger back as I was reminded of what sent me to Loki to begin with, but my mind was now clouded with the image of Loki on his knees.

I decided to get a quick, cold shower to try and cool myself down, but it only made things worse. As the cold water cascaded over my body, I found myself envisioning that I wasn’t alone. As my hands moved over my body, I found myself imagining they were Loki’s hands. Soapy hands running over my arms, my shoulders, cupping my breasts. I let out a moan as I squeezed them, imagining Loki stood behind me, his lips on my neck as his hands toyed with me.

I gasped as I came to my sense. What is wrong with me?!

The minute the water shut off, my body felt hot to the touch again. The thought alone of having to put clothes back on made me feel claustrophobic, so I decided just to slip under the covers. my mind was still playing images I desperately wished would stop. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Loki. It’s not like I hadn’t noticed Loki like that before. When the two of us were going through puberty and starting to “notice” the opposite sex more, I saw how handsome he had become. But even then I never thought of him like this.

There was a dull ache between my legs that was starting to become too much to ignore. Maybe...maybe I just take care of it and these thoughts will finally go away.

I let one hand move down my body again, skimming over my breasts and stomach until I reached the heat between my legs. I gasped as I applied light pressure to my clit. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to picture Loki. I imagined him on his knees again, his blue eyes watching me as I stand over him. I pictured him pulling me closer and his lips teasing the host skin of my lower stomach. I whimpered as I applied more pressure to the circles I was rubbing on my clit. In my imagination, Loki was lifting my leg over his shoulder to get better access to my dripping pussy.

Before I could stop myself, Loki’s name slipped from my lips followed by a string of moans. Despite the fact that my brain was too lust clouded to really think about it, I knew I had no reason to stop myself from saying his name while I pleasured myself. The walls were essentially soundproof, so no one was going to hear who I was fantasizing about.

Or so I thought anyways.

Because as I came closer and closer to the edge, I heard a noise in my room. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was not alone.

Loki was stood there, looking at me with wide eyes and pink tinted cheeks.

I screamed and sat up. The blanket fell to my lap, so I collected it again and used it to cover my bare body.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” I snapped. “How did you get in?!”

“I-I came in while you were in the shower,” he responded. “I...I was trying to scare you as payback for what happened in the garden, but when you came out naked and didn’t get dressed...”

He trailed off, his face growing redder by the second. I wondered at first how much he had seen, but if he was saying he had been here since I was in the shower, that meant he had seen everything. He had seen me naked, seen me touching myself, heard me moaning his name.

It was my turn for my face to burn with embarrassment. I turned away quickly so he couldn’t see my expression.

“Do you often think of me when you’re in here at night getting yourself off?”

I tried to scowl at him for even asking such a stupid question, but when my eyes met his I saw that he was no longer embarrassed. Instead, there seemed to be a hint of mischief in those blue eyes. And not the kind where he was about to cause some sort of annoying trouble. No, this was lust.

“No,” I told him. “I’ve never thought of you like this. It’s just...for some reason...after seeing you on yours knees in the garden...”

He chuckled. “Oh, you want to see me on my knees then, is that it?”

I could feel the heat growing between my legs again. Loki approached me, pausing a moment to see if I was going to tell him to leave. I knew I should’ve, but I really did not want to. I was curious to see where he was going with this, and if it meant he was going to give me the release I dearly needed...well, there was no harm in that, was there?

When I didn’t give any indication that I wanted him to leave, he extended a hand to me. I took it and he gently pulled me from my bed so I was standing in front of him. He was always taller than me, but I never truly noticed it until this moment, looking up at him and waiting for him to make some sort of move. He held eye contact with me as he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of me.

“What was it I was doing in your fantasy?” he asked.

“Y-You were using your m-mouth on me,” I stuttered out.

“Like this?” he asked before leaning forward to press a kiss to my stomach - just like in my fantasy.

“Y-Yes,” I said. “But also...lower.”

“How much lower?”

“I think you know.”

He chuckled again. “I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You were kissing me on my pussy before you so rudely interrupted my fantasy.”

I gasped as he lightly bit at the soft skin on my stomach. “So naughty, even when you have me on my knees wanting to give you exactly what you were thinking about. Although, I suppose I did so rudely interrupt you while you were trying to get yourself off. I should try to make that up to you.”

He took my leg and lifted it over his shoulder. I reached behind me and used the nearest object - my nightstand - to steady myself as Loki immediately dove his tongue into my folds. I gasped, which turned into a moan. It felt even better than I ever could’ve imagined. Actually, I don’t think anything I could’ve imagined would ever live up to this. I had never had anyone go down on me, although I had done the same to plenty of my partners in the past. The feeling made me so lightheaded so quickly that I felt like I was floating.

While keeping one hand on my nightstand (because I was sure if I stopped holding it I would’ve toppled over), I ran my other through Loki’s long hair. Growing up, I had often teased him about wanting to keep his hair long because I told him it would just get in the way during battle. But now, I was glad he had never taken any of my words to heart. His long, black locks were the perfect thing to grab hold of and use to direct him as he devoured me. At one point, as his tongue ran from the tip of my clit all the way down to my pussy, I involuntarily pulled on his hair a little harder than I meant to. His response was to moan, not taking his mouth from me, sending a shiver all throughout my body.

He was watching me. Never once did his eyes leave me as he made me come undone just with his tongue. I tried to keep eye contact, but my eyes kept closing or my head would lull back in pleasure. I wanted this to last as long as possible, but I found myself nearing the edge quickly. I tried to pull Loki away, but he attached himself to me.

“Wait,” I breathed. “I-I’m gonna...”

“Cum in my mouth,” he told me before placing his mouth around my clit again and running his tongue over it.

It was enough to finally push me over the edge. I cried out in pleasure as I felt his tongue run down to my pussy to collect the juices running from it. My legs began to tremble and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand up for much longer. As if reading my mind, Loki’s hands raised up to hold onto my hips as he had a few last laps. When he finally managed to pull himself from me, I could see that his lips were glistening from me. It was enough to almost turn me on again.

He got to his feet again and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips. He slowly backed me up until I was falling back onto my bed. He followed me down, crawling on top of me so that his legs were straddling my hips. His mouth was on mine again, still hungry as if he hadn’t just eaten me like a man who hadn’t had food in years.

I reached between us to try and undo his pants, but he quickly moved his hand to capture my wrist. I jumped at the sudden contact.

“Do you not want to go further?” I asked. “I’ll respect your wishes if not, but you’re giving me very mixed signals if that’s the case.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to go further. You have no idea how badly I need to be inside of you right now. It’s just...”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for me to understand what he meant.

“There’s a lady in town who gives out contraceptives to the maidens in town,” I told him. “She said that on Midgard they call it ‘birth control’, but other realms are starting to take note of it to try and control their populations.”

“So...if we were to go through with this, there’s no risk of us producing an offspring?”

For some reason, the way he phrased it made me giggle as I shook my head. “No. There will be no little Lokis running around the castle.”

In a flash, his lips were on mine again. He didn’t stop me when I reached between us this time. I unbuttoned his pants and tried to pull them down without breaking the kiss. Unfortunately, it was not as easy as I would have wanted it to be and we eventually had to break away so Loki could undress himself. I watched, impatiently, as he pulled his shirt over his head first, then agonizingly slowly removed his pants and boxers. I couldn’t help but stare as his cock sprang free from their confinements. I had never really thought about the size of Loki’s dick, but I was pleasantly surprised to see what he was packing.

He climbed over me again, kissing me deeply as he lined himself up with entrance. I was still wet enough from my first orgasm that he was able to run the head of his dick through my folds and collect enough wetness that he could push himself into me with ease. He filled me slowly, letting me adjust to every inch of his length until he was buried to the hilt inside of me. I felt so full that I almost never wanted him to pull out of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “If anything hurts I’ll stop.”

“You are hardly the first lover I’ve had, Loki,” I told him. “I’ve done this before, you aren’t going to hurt me.”

He grinned down at me. “My, my, Thor’s virtuous best friend allowing herself to be defiled?”

“I’m hardly virtuous. Even Thor knows that. He just never wants to heard of my escapades.”

“I don’t think I want to hear of them either.” Before I could respond, he pulled out until it was just the head of his dick inside of me, before thrusting all the way in again. The words fizzled in my throat and became moans instead. “I don’t want to think of anyone else defiling you. Not in the past, and not in the future. If we are crossing this boundary tonight, then I want you to be mine. No other person in all of Asgard or any other realm can have you, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Gods, Loki, I’m yours! I promise, I will not let anyone else have me. I’m yours and yours alone, I swear.”

I could feel his smirk against my neck as he began to kiss me. “Say it one more time. I like hearing it.”

“I’m yours, Loki. All of me is yours.”

With every thrust inwards he was hitting spots that I didn’t even know could exist within me. He kissed wherever his lips could reach, and what they couldn’t reach he touched with his hands instead. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into my ear as he fucked me like it was his life’s purpose. I wasn’t sure if he actually meant that he wanted me to be his or if it was just the lust of the moment taking over, but I was starting to hope he really meant it. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else after this. He was ruining me with every thrust, every caress, every kiss.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I’m getting close.”

“Please cum in me,” I said. If I was in my right mind I might’ve been embarrassed to beg, but there was one thing I wanted right now and I wasn’t afraid to voice that.

“Is that what you want, pet?” he asked. “Do you want me to fill you up? To really claim you as mine?”

I nodded quickly, unable to form any other words. I wrapped my legs around his waist, which caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’ll give you exactly what you want then.”

I could feel him twitching inside of me, and within a matter of seconds he was spilling into me. He buried his head into my shoulder, his groans muffled against my skin. My hands were gripping at his back so hard that I was sure there were going to be imprints of my nails left in his skin. I looked up at the ceiling of my quarters, but all I could see were stars.

We laid together for what felt like hours. I didn’t want this to end, but I feared that once Loki had come down from his high that he would regret everything he had said. I knew I probably was supposed to feel the same way, he was Thor’s little brother after all. I shouldn’t think of him as a partner or a lover. And yet, I was dreading the moment he pulled out of me and looked at me with regret. Or worse yet, that he would leave without even so much as a glance in my direction and forget this ever happened.

To my surprise, when Loki finally did pull himself from me, he held me with one arm and moved the blankets back so we could both slip under them. He pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest, and reached over to turn off the light on my nightstand.

“You’re staying, then?” I asked. It came out soft and hopeful.

“Did you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No,” I said quickly.

“Then I’ll stay.”

“You don’t...regret what just happened?”

“Do you?”

“Do you always have to answer a question with a question?”

His chest vibrated beneath my cheek as he laughed. “Well, considering the questions you’re asking, I feel the need to make sure that isn’t how you’re feeling.”

“It’s not,” I confirmed. “I want you to stay, and I don’t regret what just happened. If anything, I’m very glad it happened. I don’t think I’ve felt that good during sex in a long time.”

“Then you were having sex with the wrong people.”

“Evidently so.”

He squeezed me gently and kissed my forehead. I felt the touch run through my entire body, from the place he kissed on my head all the way down to my toes.

“I meant what I said. About you being mine,” he said. “I’m not one to engage in meaningless sex. If that’s all you wanted, then I would leave and forget it ever happened. But, I don’t intend to let you go that easily.”

“I don’t intend to be let go.”

“Good.” He kissed me again. I couldn’t fight back the smile that tugged at my lips. “Go to sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

I nodded and settled against his chest. “Goodnight Loki.”

“Goodnight, love.”

#loki #loki imagine #loki smut #loki x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x reader #marvel #mcu #imagine #one shot #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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elliewritesfantasy · 3 months

Text

Escape in the Night

A/N: I never thought I would be posting fanfiction on this account. However, Baldur’s Gate has captured my attention and my inspiration for months now. I don’t even know if anyone will see this, but I enjoyed writing it, and that’s all that matters.

Some protective dadstarion for you all. And strong boss Tav. Female Tav x Astarion.

Snow fell in great white clumps, blanketing the forest in an eerie silence. Cold crept up your fingers, reaching further with every moment that passed. You remained crouched under the boughs of an old maple tree, the bare branches leaning under the weight of the snowfall. You were burdened with your own weight; a greatsword hung between your shoulder blades, a relic of your paladin oath long forgotten among other worries, and a bundle against your chest. It was the one spot of true warmth on this winter night. Your baby. Astarion’s baby.

Armelle.

Boots shifted, crunching snow and dirt.

“Astarion?” His name was barely a puff of air from your mouth.

“I’m here.” He appeared next to you, and knelt. His silver hair shone even on this starless night, a mess of curls barely tamed. His eyes searched your face, his hands clenched around his longbow.

“Where are the vampires?” you asked.

“They’re close. I need to get you out of here.” Astarion placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to your feet. “I’ve lost a lot of my vampiric senses, but not all.”

“I wish they would see reason.”

“I know.”

You had found a wish scroll for him long ago, as part of your promise after the defeat of the netherbrain. The wish scroll brought him not only the cure for him vampirism, but the promise of a wide open future free of having to hide in the dark. It brought him hope and the freedom to finally say that he could marry you without feeling like he had trapped you in a vampire’s nest for life. And it had brought him his second-most precious gift of all - the wrapped child you clutched with the strength of a mother’s fierce love.

The vampires didn’t know Astarion was cured. They thought he had sired a dhampir, the offspring of a vampire and a powerful being with hungers rarely fully sated. A dhampir would be an asset to their coven, and they wasted no time in searching you out in the two weeks you have had her. You hadn’t meant to have your baby on the way to Waterdeep for a companions’ reunion. She was early. A surprise. But you were already so far from home, it wasn’t worth it to turn back.

Maybe that was a mistake.

“Y/N.” Astarion broke you from your thoughts. “Waterdeep isn’t far. If you run, you can make it while I hold them off.”

“I can’t leave you.” Your soul burned with your paladin’s oath, and your hands itched to strike the vampires down with all of your holy might.

“Just for a second. I’ll meet you there I promise,” Astarion said. His lips lifted in his slightly crooked smile. “If we can survive the Absolute and the attempted end of the world, we can survive this.”

You steeled your nerves, drinking in his familiar confident expression, though it wavered just a bit as the bundle on your chest let out a small, sleepy whine. “Alright”

“I can smell you. I can smell her.” The crooning voice of the vampire master Kazimir cut through the dampened night. Your heart quickened.

“Run.” Astarion notched an arrow, his breath coming in quick, clouded puffs. “Run!”

You didn’t hesitate. Your boots dug into the snow, into the frozen mud and you sprinted with all of the strength left in your body. The lights of Waterdeep twinkled on the horizon. It wasn’t much farther. You could make it.

“Ah, not so fast.”

You skidded to a stop, your throat lurching with fear. Kazimir stood before you, red eyes shining with glee.

“I can’t let you go, not with that creature you have.”

“She’s not a creature,” you growled. You drew your greatsword.

“Oh, but she is. And what a delicious creature she would be to have. She should be raised by a real vampire, not a pithy elf and a weak spawn.” He drew his own blade, a wicked sharp rapier. “Hand her to me peacefully, and I will let you return to your spawn without fuss.”

“No.” You swung your greatsword in an arc, poised to strike.

“A shame. Then I will have to take her from you.” Kazimir lunged forward, blade catching on the woolen edge of your wrap. You lurched back, narrowly escaping his rapier. You raised your sword, letting the anger in your stomach explode outward, lighting the weapon with a golden light. The vampire hissed and shrunk back instinctually at the light. With a cry, you leaped forward, bringing your sword down in a blazing arc. The vampire recovered just in time, spinning out of the way of your smite, his cloak billowing out behind him. He vanished among the trees, flitting between them like a ghost. You reeled, then recovered, and grounded yourself in the snow. You had to be ready.

Your eyes searched the darkness desperately, your eyes struggling to perceive anything beyond the falling snow.

“Behind you!” Astarion ran from the trees, an arrow whistling through the air. It found its mark in the shoulder of the master vampire. He screamed, turning from you to Astarion.

A blast of blue light blinded you all in an instant. A dimension door appeared just to your left with a familiar hand reaching through it.

“Gale!”

“Come with me,” Gale emerged wholly, his hair whipping in the wind of the portal. “Quickly!”

“But, Astarion-“ you looked back the silver elf now fighting Kazimir with his dagger, locked in an expert hand-to-hand battle.

“You have something more important to think about now, eh?” Gale gestured to you once again. You closed your eyes tight, sheathing your weapon. With one last glance at Astarion, you let Gale pull you through the gate and into the candlelit drawing room of his tower.

Shadowheart was the first to run to you. “Y/N, what happened?”

You couldn’t answer, your body wracked with violent shudders and shakes. Some of it was from the cold, some from the fear that made your very soul twist. Shadowheart wrapped you in a blanket. Through a tendril of consciousness, you managed to pull aside your wrap to check on your baby. You collapsed into a chair at the sight of her, eyes still closed, asleep. Safe.

“I’m going back for him.” Gale began furiously searching for a scroll through the precarious stacks upon his end tables.

Shadowheart laid a hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t risk it. What if the vampire comes through this time?”

Gale shook his head. “I can’t leave him to that master. I remember how strong Cazador was.”

“We have to trust him,” Shadowheart argued.

You could only sit, your arms holding your baby to you, her head cradled in your hands. A prayer of safety rang through your mind again and again. You had been a thirty minute run from Waterdeep before, and with the fight, maybe it would take him an hour.

“Please, I need you,” you whispered. Gale and Shadowheart retreated, letting you hold your child and warm by the fire while your brain was wracked with thoughts.

Please. Please.

I should have stayed.

Please.

The door to the drawing room burst open. You ran to it immediately, blood rushing in your ears.

“I’m here.”

“Astarion.”

He was here, his armor streaked bright red with blood. His hair was clumped with gore, and a cut on his cheek shone. He drank your face in hungrily, then reached for the woolen wrap, pushing it aside to reveal the perfect girl curled at your chest, her fine, newborn-soft silver hair glowing in the candlelight. Astarion placed a hand on her head, giving her a soft kiss right above her brow. He pressed his forehead against yours, tucking you both into his chest.

Even years after his cure, the feeling of his body warmth was novel. You soaked it in.

“He’s dead,” Astarion said. He twined a hand through your hair, pressing you into his shoulder. “He will never bother us again.”

“I can’t believe you killed him.” You drew back, studying his face.

Astarion laughed, his brows crinkling. “What, you doubted me? Hero of the world, slayer of the netherbrain?”

“You know it was my sword that landed the final strike,” you teased.

Armelle stirred, drawing Astarion’s attention. Oh, how much he had changed. From only being able to care about his own survival, to dedicating his whole existence to the survival of two others. It scared him more than the impending end of existence did.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” He traced Armelle’s rounded, flushed cheeks, taking in the hair that matched his own, the nose that matched yours. “I have everything that I need right here.”

#astarion #Astarion ancunin #Baldur’s gate #Baldur’s gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart #astarion x reader #Astarion x Tav #fanfic #fanfiction #dadstarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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hey-august · 1 month

Text

i was supposed to go to sleep, but here we are...

WC: ~700

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, buggy x f!reader, fingering, multiple orgasms, "good girl," bit of misuse of devil fruit powers bc it just makes things easier to imagine

"Shhh..." Buggy hushed you before flipping a page.

Your teeth clamped harder on your lip, biting back the sounds that he deemed "too distracting." When you offered to help the captain with his paperwork, this wasn't what you meant.

---

Buggy quickly lost steam when it came to bureaucratic drudgery. Anything he could delegate was passed off. Work that had to be done by him was also passed off. This worked until it didn't. Until the crew learned about his deadlines and his ploys.

Suddenly, everyone was busy. There were emergencies that needed immediate help. Excuses were said in between breaths.

"Excuse me, Captain, someone's stuck in the rigging." "Richie broke a claw and I need to check on him." "I broke my hand and have to go to the infirmary." "I have to get past you and do something else, sorry!"

Maybe no one said the last one, but that's what they all boiled down to.

And that's how Buggy ended up laying in bed, boots on, suffering through a packet that was actually important and couldn't get lost at sea.

You could nearly see the pirate's life fading away when you stepped into the room. His spirit was being replaced by unnecessary acronyms, legalese, and superfluous writing. With each word his eyes skimmed over, a sparkle died.

It was pitiful. And adorable, but you wouldn't tell him that.

You offered to help, figuring Buggy would be more than happy to hand you the papers, accidentally give you a paper cut, and wander off to get drunk.

Instead, he patted the spot next to him. You sat down, sinking into the divot he created, and leaned against his body. Buggy put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer.

You peered at the paper, ready to assist, when you realized Buggy had a different plan. A hand slithered it's way under your clothes and was finding a nesting place under your panties.

Buggy's fingers explored the area cautiously, chasing away the sensitivity and luring out arousal. He circled your bundle of nerves, avoiding contact and admiring from a distance. Buggy's warmth dipped lower, teasing you with how he almost touched the areas he usually attacks with passion and hunger.

"I thought you wanted h-help?"

"You are helping, now keep quiet so I can focus."

He kissed your forehead just as his fingertips collided with your clit. You gasped as the sweet electricity shot through your body and curled your toes.

Buggy stopped moving.

"I really do need to focus."

"I'll- I'll be quiet."

The movement started again and you sunk into your own body with a sigh.

Buggy knew how to play your body like an instrument. When to press harder and when to pull back. When you wanted small movements and when you needed something grander. When to keep tempo and follow the pattern, and when to create his own music.

The trembles in your body increased until the silent crescendos that left you twitching and panting. But with still more work to do, Buggy kept you underhand.

At first, you could pick out the shapes he traced. Numbers and figures to tally. Long digits that carried on longer than you did. Short numbers that brought about aftershocks of pleasure. Then the letters and words. At least, they were probably words. You couldn't hold onto them long enough to decipher the messages.

Buggy drew climax after climax from you body. You could feel how slick you were, a puddle collecting under your body. Every so often he'd pull out the hand and one of you would lick his wet fingers so he could turn a page.

"How much more?"

Buggy rifled through the packet.

"Three more, then it's done." He glanced at you. What a beautiful mess, covered in sweat and chest heaving. "You're doing such a good job for your captain. You deserve a reward for being such a good girl, huh?"

You nodded eagerly. A reward sounded nice.

"Keep being good for three more pages and I'll give you a nice big reward."

You nodded again and let your eyes close as Buggy picked up where he left off. A big, hard reward. That's what you wanted.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut

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hirsheyskisses · 8 months

Text

OP Boys: Special Hugs (03)

Kid & Killer

(Short Scenarios)

WARNING: Kidd's part gets a lil NSFW. no need done, but suggestive.

Eustass "Captain" Kid.

♥︎ let's get one thing straight

♥︎ he doesn't do "hugs"

♥︎ no see he does this really creepy staring thing from a distance. He practically SENSES when you're in the room with him, and he turns his head and stares.

♥︎ he thinks he's subtle but he's really not

♥︎ what, you broke a knife? Here, have 20 more he made himself for this exact occasion. Why are you looking at him so weird? YOUR OLD KNIVES WERE TRASH ANYWAYS HIS ARE BETTER >:(

♥︎ also, weirdly specific way of flirting with insults that are actually compliments

♥︎ yeah, that energy.

♥︎ but fate leads to the weirdest shit, so..

"....a fucking sea-stone box."

"I tried to tell ya, Cap'n.."

Taking a look at your situation, there was no avoiding it. Your Captain just didn't listen to reason, it wasn't in his blood. Now, you were cramped against his chest in a tiny, sea stone box, that was only ever intended to hold him.

Not an extra human.

"Quit your damn squirmin." Kid grunted, flesh arm wrapping around you. It was pitch black, so neither of you knew where body parts were until you felt them out. "Tryna give you more room.." you muttered. Currently, you were awkwardly pressed against him: head just above his, hands on his shoulders, and legs resting on his. "No, you're tryna shove your tits into my face."

You could almost see the smirk with his words, "If I wanted my tits in your face, they'd be there! Now hush and let me move," you slowly twisted your body, hand grabbing his thigh for balance. His hand danced up your waist, half helping you turn your back to him.

"If I do this, you'll have more leg room." Which is something you figured he desperately needed, being damn near 6'5 and built like a tank, yet again, cramped in a tiny box that was sucking his energy.

"Mhm.. yeah. Yer gropin' my thigh, sweetie. 'S much as I love the energy, a box ain't the place we're gonna do this." You tightened your grip, chuckling out of pure annoyance: this absolute and utter piece of work-

"...Captain, for the love of all that's holy, shut the fuck up- please."

"So polite." He snickered, his lips now right next to your ear.

You successfully had your back against his chest now, knees brought up to your own, and dropped your head on them. You could hear Kid chuckling softly, his arm wrapping around your middle.

"The hell are you doing?" "Mmmmmmm...." He groaned in your ear.

Heat rushed up to your face. "What the hell?!" "Ya smell good." "Yeah well you smell like fuckin sweat so-"

He drew you closer, dropping his head ontop of yours, "when we get out of here.. so will you."

Long story short, if Kid had known what it'd take to get you so flustered and in his arms was to put you both in a cramped space.. well, let's just say this isn't the last time.

"Massacre Solider" Killer

• it takes a lot for Killer to get touchy Feely.

• Contrare to his captain's kinda horny love, his is, way more subtle. (Mostly because, thanks to the mask, you can't see him watching you.)

• when he decides he wants to try himself with you, he starts popping up. Everywhere.

• You're genuinely surprised he hasn't popped up while you're showering at this point

• however, Killer does have a weakness, being from the south blue. And that's the cold.

• see, you're from the north blue. You're used to it.. and so..

"...you're bundled up-"

"And youre.. not."

You quirked a brow, eyeing your Vice Captain. He was currently dressed in three of the puffiest jackets you'd ever laid eyes on, an ear flap hat over his mask, gloves, and the fuzziest pants ever. Meanwhile, you were dressed in a simple jacket, boots, regular jeans, and gloves.

"Ya look.. fluffy." You could almost swear he was still shivering a bit. "...Killer, you can head back inside. I've got the watch."

He shook his head, "'s better to have two people on watch." "In some cases, sure, but when the second person is so cold they're dressed like an old lady.."

You watched the blonde tense, "...I don't understand how you're not cold." You snickered, shaking your head. Snow was beginning to fall from the sky- you'd long since entered a winter biome. "I am cold, but not that cold."

"You're insane." "I think the same about you South Blue folk in the heat. North Blue folk are built for the cold."

Killer shook his head again, joining you in leaning over the rail.

"...you've been out here for a while. Let me take over." Killer said. He was right, but if he was the next in line.. "Thanks, killer, but I'll stay out here with you."

"Go inside. You're not dressed properly for this cold."

"Did you not listen to a word of what I just said- I'm built for this-"

"Did you not listen to what your Vice Captain just told you?"

"Sorry, don't see him. I do see a cold, stubborn child." You were careful not to use the term kid.

"."

"..."

"......"

"You're worse than Kid."

"I'll take that at face value and be insulted."

He sighed, "impossible."

A few hours later, you both were switching shifts with Heat and Wire. Walking into the kitchen, you stretched, watching Killer de-layer by the fire. A smirk tugged at your lips as you approached the masked man from behind, staring over his shoulder.

"The caterpillar emerges from its cocoon!" "Shut." He grumbled, removing his gloves last. His hands looked tenser than usual, likely because of the cold. So hatched your master plan of..

Grabbing his hands, and engulfing them with your own, and lifting them both to rest at your neck. Because of his mask, you couldn't see what he felt: but oh, if you could, this man was panicking.

Finally, he mustered, "...you're a human heater."

"That I am! Besides, neck, underarms, and .. between the thighs are the warmest part on any human. Thought you'd know that."

Silence. His fingers flexed and tightened at your shoulders, before, without warning, he had you picked up and thrown over his shoulder, stalking down the halls.

"EH? KILLER-" before you knew it, he'd thrown open the door to his room, tossed you on the bed, and quickly yanked a blanket over you both, snuggling into bed without even taking his boots off.

"...do I wann-" "...you're my personal heater. So sleep."

Well, he's wanted to do that for a while regardless.. holding you in his arms, lay on top of you.. the occasion was just too perfect not to throw rank around a bit.

#eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #kid x reader #one piece killer x reader #one piece x reader #eustass kid #killer

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oepionie · 1 year

Text

— "A SLIP OF TONGUE." draconia

SYNOPSIS: Some arranged marriage crumbs with Malleus <3

⊹ [ cw ] — arranged marriage, reader wears dress◞

⊹ [ tags ] — a drabble, fem! reader, malleus is described to have draconic features, draconic rizz◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 0.8k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

IT WAS A DUTY you must see through to the end. The Merryweathers had a high standing in society and it was crucial that you, the eldest daughter, married into a powerful family. You would be able to strengthen your position with the nobility through such union.

It was such a tantalizing preposition that you couldn't help yourself. Even if it meant begrudgingly marrying a man your father chose for you.

The diamond-encrusted headpiece threaded into your hair weighed heavy, strenuous on your neck, and dreadfully difficult to move around with. Ten layers of fine white silk and lace rest against your form, draping and swaying against the breeze of the damp garden. If not for your current situation, the day would have been perfect.

The upcoming wedding had pushed the entire Draconia palace into a state of barely controlled chaos and turmoil. In every second of the day, you were flooded with dress fittings, laced wedding invites, nosy handmaidens, and many more. The courtyard outside the castle was the only place you could get away from the wedding festivities.

It was peaceful, free from the thundering demands of the queen and bare of any busy-bee maids and workers.

The air smelled pleasantly of wildflowers and moss. Small sunbeams found their way through your braided hair, sparkling and reflecting off of the jewels in your crown.

The year had passed in a blur and before you knew it, it was spring.

"Dearest?" Startled, you almost sprang out of your skin. Turning round, you found Malleus standing by the garden entrance. He was dressed in a dark gothic suit, a thick tailcoat layered atop. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

It was fortunate, you thought, that you had a veil draped across your face. Because the moment he began to approach you, your jaw went slack, mouth running dry. With each thundering step of his boots, your head hammered and your thoughts melted into mush.

The distance between you was quickly closed as he towered over you, the front of his torso brushing against yours. Bowing his head low, your fiancé's dark eyes briefly swept over your figure, devouring the savory sight of your form draped in the flowy dress. Though hesitant, you mustered the courage to address him and bowed.

Malleus' eyes bore into yours as he trailed a leather clad hand down your arm, taking a hold of your wrist and lifting it to his lips. It was commonly known that noblemen tended to avoid showing affection in public as they had to maintain a proper image. So you were perplexed to see him displaying such open adoration towards you.

"My bride," he murmurs, voice baritone and deep, rumbling his chest. The fae could see how you trembled in his presence, an apprehensive smile stretched across your lips. "How are you fairing?"

"I…I am well." Cursing yourself for the uncertainty lace in your voice, you drew your hand back, gaze stone cold as you toyed with the edges of your robes. "I am just…just trying to process everything right now."

"I see," was his flat response.

The draconic prince was all what people had horrifyingly depicted him as. Tall, dark, imposing, and frightfully powerful. And yet, in all the ways he was intimidating and overpowering, he was beautiful.

There the sound of a faintest swish as his scaled tail brushed against the lush grass. Translucent grey scales glistened on the skin of his arms, and his eyes were a dazzling jade that sparkled green when you peered into them. His fingers were claw-like, and his nails were black as obsidian.

Before you could stop yourself, your lips move on its own, a sugared yet genuine compliment dripping from your tongue.

"You're…beautiful."

Then there is silence.

Malleus shakily exhales, his eyes skimming over your form, wide and gleaming with suppressed excitement.

You on the other hand, are terrified, horrified, by the slip of the tongue, and you rush to explain yourself. A stream of explanations tumble off your lips. Though you were unable to make sense of what you were even saying, it was more like the rambles of madman.

"Beautiful, hm?" Malleus grins, fangs shining underneath beams of sun. He slots himself closer to your body, a strong arm wrapping itself around your waist. Your mind is dizzy and you find comfort in tucking your face into the crook of his neck. The sound of his amused chuckle rumbles against your burning cheeks as he utters his gratitude.

"It-It was a slip of tongue, I didn't mean to-" You stammer but Malleus presses the pad of his finger against your glossy lips, shutting you up. He leans in close, the scent of his cool cologne filling your senses as his hands knead the flesh of your hips. "Oh, I'm sure it was, my queen."

Sevens help you.

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @gussuri@lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @pianopuppygirl @cross-crye @cerisescherries @teenage-discomfort @cecilebutcher @savanaclaw1996 @msykaroly @a-bit-late @peter-the-pan993 @imdevotedtoyou @yevenly @syl-lithy @solomonslostsock @noidonothavetimeforthis @driftaway27 @supernovaicloud @skadi-winterfell

#twisted wonderland fanfic #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader

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hyperactively-me · 10 months

Text

boots

He sensed your weariness, gently adjusting his position to allow you to lean against him for support. His strong arms wrap around you, providing a comforting embrace you gladly welcomed. Your fists bunch up his shirt as you hug him, pressing your cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you, your eyes growing heavy with sleep.

you’re in a secret relationship with ghost, and its after hours after a long day of training and a mission, you’re super tired, so he helps you undress.

warnings: none

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. You felt like you could fall asleep standing up. The day's intense training alongside a somewhat “easy” mission had taken its toll on your body and mind. You were up before dawn, training in the few hours before the mission was set to take place. From there, you had immediately changed into your gear, and it had remained on all day. It’s now well past midnight, you’re still carrying all your gear on your person. You had immediately gone back to your room the moment you touched down back at the base, not bothering to take off any of your gear. Seeing your bed had you nearly teary eyed. You let yourself fall back on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes closing as sleep nearly had its hold on you.

A quiet knock had startled you from your sleepy state, your reflexes still sharp. You sit up immediately and groan, rolling your eyes as you stand up. God, you just wanted, needed, to sleep. You trudge to the door reluctantly, dragging your feet with every step. When you had slipped your door open, you were greeted by Ghost.

You immediately tear up at the sight of him, tired out of your mind, frustrated that you still had to undress and put everything away.

“Simon,” you nearly whimper, pressing yourself against him. You hated the way your gear was digging into you, creating unnecessary space between you and Ghost.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, love,” he whispers, ushering you towards your bed. He helps you sit on the edge of your bed, your frame hunched over.

“It's been a long day,” Ghost whispered, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

An appreciative grin pulled at the edges of your lips as he drew closer to you, feeling safe in his company. He bends down on one knee, hands reaching to untie your combat boots with a gentleness he reserved only for you. He slips both of your boots off your feet, then rolls down your socks, slipping them off. Next, he reaches for your hands, slipping your gloves delicately off your hands. He rubs the flesh of your palm, massaging it slightly. Finally, he reaches up to remove the heaviest part of your outfit, your tac vest. You shift your arms slightly, allowing him to reach behind you as he releases the velcro, the removal of the weight of the vest already having an astronomical effect on your body. You sigh in relief as the weight is removed, rolling out your shoulders with a groan.

Immediately you let yourself fall backwards on your bed, hands coming up to rub your heavy eyes.

“Simon,” you whisper. He stills for a moment before standing up to lay down right next to you.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything, letting the silence of the room swallow him.

“Your support means the world to me,” you mutter, turning on your side to face him.

He’s still staring up at the ceiling, his hands crossed over his chest. He takes a breath, then turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment, hand coming up to gently trace your cheek.

“We're in this together," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering sincerity.

The weight of his words make you feel at ease, and you pull him into you. You rake your hands through his hair slowly, lethargically.

His head comes up to rest against your chest, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing pressing against you as your fingers continue to trace soothing patterns through his hair.

“I love you,” you murmur.

Ghost looks up at you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. “I love you," he replied, his voice genuine.

You were immediately pulled into sleep’s sweet embrace, clutching onto your love like a lifeline. He pulls you closer as he succumbs to sleep, pulling you into him like nothing else in the world matters.

#*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod #call of duty reader insert #call of duty #ghost #simon “ghost” riley #fluff #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost imagine #hyperactivelyme

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jackactuallywrites · 3 months

Text

Tight Spaces

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x You

Rating: Mature (mostly because of the setting)

Warnings: War-torn zone and bombings

Summary: You’re on recon with Ghost and have to hide in not one, but two tight spaces! Angst!

Notes: I have no idea whether this is a one shot or not I was just having fun with it

Word Count: 2,373

ao3 link

How could a mission go this wrong?

It was supposed to be a fairly short reconnaissance: go in, get the intel, go back out, yet somehow, they’d known you were coming. And that had led you here, lying down in a half-empty metal ammo box, listening to the foreign soldiers pace around outside. The situation was bad enough, with the sharp corners of the metal boxes poking into your skin, even through the thick material of your uniform, unable to move lest you were discovered.

What made it worse was the fact that your lieutenant was currently lying face down on top of you, his weight practically crushing you. There was nowhere else for him to go, so he’d had to climb in the crate alongside you, forced to lie on top of you like a heavy blanket, the various bits and pieces of his gear digging into your front as the boxes dug into your back. His head was in the space to the left of yours, the hard resin of his mask pressing into your shoulder. You could hear his breathing, slow and steady, as though this was no more stressful than a nice walk in the countryside, a far cry from your sharp, rapid breath.

A shot sounded out nearby, and you flinched, causing the boxes underneath you to shift and grind against each other, the metal screeching in protest. Another volley of shots sounded, closer than the last, and you scrunched your eyes shut tight as though you could will yourself out of the situation. It did very little for the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and you sunk your teeth into the inside of your cheek, trying hard not to physically vibrate with anxiety. Your hands were shaking, pinned to your chest by Ghost’s body, and you closed your eyes, desperately trying to will yourself into calm, but nothing seemed to work.

“Relax.”

Ghost’s voice was as soft as you’d ever heard, his gravelled voice little more than a whisper. Exactly how you were supposed to relax in a situation like this was an absolute mystery—stuck in an ammo crate, surrounded by hostile forces, with your superior officer directly on top of you. Not just any superior officer, either. Ghost.

It was no secret that everyone was afraid of the man, and you counted yourself among them. Anyone with a brain feared that man. Yet here he was, trying to calm you down. Of course, it might have had more to do with the fact that if you didn’t calm down, you might reveal his position. Still, you did your best to listen to him, trusting in your lieutenant to get you through this, letting out your breath in a long, slow stream of air.

You didn’t realise how much you preferred the gunshots until you heard the footsteps, the crunching of boots on the bits of rubble and broken tile strewn over the ground. Your hands started their incessant shaking again, and it was all you could do not to tremble all over as you listened to those footsteps grow closer still. Any second, you were sure they were going to throw open the lid to the crate and discover you both, killing Ghost and doing God knows what to you.

Terrifying or not, Ghost was human, and you found yourself yearning for a little human intimacy as you stared down what were to be your last moments on Earth. Gingerly, you leaned your head to the side so your cheek was resting against the fabric of his balaclava and the hard edge of his mask, where his cheek would be underneath it all. It might not have been the most intimate touch, but it helped a little with your shattered nerves.

It was Ghost who made the second move as the footsteps drew closer still to your hiding place, shifting one of his hands between you to grab hold of one of yours, practically crushing your fingers in the strength of his grip. The pain did little to snap you out of your spiral, but it did draw you back into your senses enough to hear his quietest of whispers.

“Shh.”

You were sure the beating of your heart was loud enough to be heard from miles away, and you pushed your face into the crook of Ghost’s neck, regulations be damned, muffling the shaky sound of your breath with his shoulder. The footsteps were right beside you now, and you found yourself wondering what the captain would write to your family after you were discovered dead. Would they mention how Ghost held your hand in those last moments? Would they know?

Would you be the next corpse on top of him? Would he have to use one of those cheekbones to dig his way out of another grave?

Positivity was not something that came easily to Ghost. After everything he’d been through, it seemed foolish; any time he’d been prepared for things to get better, they inevitably grew worse. His childhood, his brother, his psychiatrist. He’d done everything society told him he had to do in order to become a functioning member of it once again, and the world had chewed him up and spit him back out without mercy. He couldn’t even think about the sergeant. And here he was again. You didn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess. He’d escaped death more times than a cat; it was his number that should finally be up, but fate was never that kind. Any second now, those footsteps would stop. They’d open the lid. He’d get a quick death, but you wouldn’t be that lucky. They never were.

And yet the footsteps passed.

Another one of his nine lives gone, but he was breathing; you were breathing. Fate had always been a malicious cunt, but it seemed as though this time, it had turned a blind eye to him. He almost didn’t dare believe it. You were still there, your breath blowing out in heavy puffs into his neck, the fabric of his balaclava warm and damp from your breath. Alive. So wonderfully alive.

Ghost’s body seemed to weigh heavier on you, as though he’d been holding himself tense and finally relaxed, his head resting in the crook of your neck. His breath came out in one long, slow puff, warm against your skin, the only sign that he’d ever been anything but perfectly calm. He hadn’t let go of your hand just yet, his fingers still wrapped around yours. You could barely hear the footsteps anymore; they were far too faint, retreating into the distance like a bad memory until, at long last, they were finally gone.

The weight now lifted off of you was both metaphorical and literal. Slowly but surely, Ghost was shifting himself on top of you, shifting his hand to finally release yours. He placed both hands on either side of you, gingerly pushing himself up, the lid of the crate slowly lifting. There was no shot, no sudden violence, so he continued to lift himself entirely off you, grabbing the rifle he’d laid by your side as he slowly crept out of the crate. He didn’t let the lid drop, holding it open with one hand as he looked for any sign of movement, yet from what you could tell, everywhere was clear.

Ghost lifted the lid up entirely then, keeping it in place as he gestured for you with his head to climb out. You would have liked to have stayed curled up in that crate forever, but your training went too deep, your limbs already moving to grab at your rifle and climb out of the crate, allowing Ghost to close the lid to that little piece of safety.

“Safehouse is one klick south. Quick and quiet. Let’s move.” Ghost's voice was deadly quiet, firm this time instead of reassuring, his eyes restless, constantly flicking from place to place as he turned away from you and began walking, his boots crunching quietly on the gravel. You shifted your rifle in your hands and followed along after him, your nerves razor sharp, flinching at every little noise. What was a mile felt like seven as you moved at a snail's pace through the bombed city, like two thieves in the night, terrified that every noise was to be the last one you ever heard.

At long last, you made it to the safe house. At first, you hadn’t recognised it amongst the rubble surrounding it, expecting some sort of armoured building built with steel and bulletproof glass, yet there was barely even a house. House was too generous a term for it; it was more of a shed: crumbling brick walls and a corrugated metal roof, the windows made out of some flimsy matte plastic. You weren’t sure it was the right place until Ghost had pulled open the moulding wooden door, glancing around over your head and beckoning you into a space barely big enough for you to stand upright in and far too small for him to.

Nothing about it felt particularly safe; there was no cache of guns, no ammunition, only a threadbare Persian rug covering splintering floorboards. At any rate, Ghost didn’t seem to be perturbed, pulling out his console and plugging in the USB you’d taken from the enemy base, tapping on the screen to send it back to HQ. It seemed strange that a few strings of data were worth risking your lives for, the weeks of subterfuge by your contacts, the danger they’d put themselves in, all for this. A minute of data transfer, and it was done. A month's worth of work, all compressed into a drive less than an inch long.

You were so focused on the patterns on the rug that you didn’t see that Ghost had put away the console until he spoke again, his voice gruff yet quiet, “HQ have the data. We hole up here until extraction at 0500.” You checked your watch, the digital face displaying 02:30. Two and a half hours. It was not the longest you’d ever been stuck waiting for evac by any stretch of the imagination, but not anything to sniff at either. You set down your rifle carefully, stretching out your sore back from where you’d been stuck in that crate. And now you’d be stuck in a tiny shed for even longer.

Ghost crouched by the rug and pulled a corner back from the floorboards. You’d half hoped that there was a luxurious basement hidden underneath, a large steel handle that had cleverly been concealed under the rug, giving you some hope that this could be the case. These hopes were dashed when Ghost pulled it open, revealing a small space, perhaps just a little bigger than the crate you’d just been hiding in. You weren’t entirely keen on getting into yet another confined space, and this hesitation must have shown on your face.

“Never stand when you can sit,” Ghost began, repeating the words drilled into your head as a private, “Never sit when you can lie down.” You repeated the last part of the phrase to him with a sigh, “Never stay awake when you can sleep.” It must have been one of the oldest creeds repeated amongst soldiers, and you couldn’t argue with its eternally sound logic.

With some reluctance, you got into the small steel box, shifting so you were pressed up against the side, leaving space for him to climb in beside you. He did so without a moment's hesitation, though thankfully not on top of you this time, pressed tightly against your side as he pulled down the hatch on top of you two, sealing you into the darkness.

With the adrenaline of getting to the safehouse beginning to fade, the reality of your situation set in. You’d come so close to death, so close to worse things you refused to even think about. It was hard to come to grips with your own mortality and harder still to confront it all in what felt like a steel coffin with your lieutenant pressed up against you. Thankfully, you were somewhat of a master at repressing your emotions, yet you couldn’t quite hold back the tears that pricked at your eyes or the heavy feeling in your heart.

In the darkness, you could hear Ghost shifting, snapping you from those darker emotions and replacing them with kinder curiosity as one of his arms tentatively stretched out across your chest. There was nothing lecherous in his touch; his fingers didn’t linger on your breast but moved straight over to your shoulder, gently tugging at you until you gave into his touch, allowing him to roll you over onto your side.

Ghost, Ghost, your Lieutenant was hugging you. His arm was draped over your side, and he was allowing you to rest your face against his chest, your tears swiftly soaking into the fabric of his balaclava. Nothing about this felt right. Ghost was a beast, more monster than man, yet he was cradling you to his chest as you were the most precious thing in the world.

It was only when you felt the whole ground shake with the force of heavy explosions that you realised, like everything he did, Ghost was merely doing it for the sake of the mission. If you panicked now, clawed at the latch to escape in a claustrophobic frenzy, you would both be reduced to nothing but charred bones. He was restraining you, his strong arms caging you in, disguised as a hug when it was little more than imprisonment. You were more than happy to remain in that gilded prison, burying your face in his chest and allowing the cacophonous sound of the explosions and the vibration of the earth around you to hide your muffled sobs.

Yet your world was not the only one shattering. Even among the tears and chaos, you could feel Ghost’s sharp breath hissing in your ear, his vice-like grip around your back, fingers digging in tight enough to leave bruises, his masked face pressed tightly into your shoulder. You might have been in hell, but you weren’t there alone.

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon riley fic #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost

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