#but i do like the idea of a pair of cursed boots turning someone into a goat

[georgecostanzaatemysoup]

I think Baldur's Gate shouldn't tell the players what magic items do and instead make Gale sit at the camp for over an hour while the rest of the party crowd around him watching him ritually cast Identify on each item.

Or hey take your chances by putting those shiny boots on. They could give you more movement OR immediately turn you into a goat.

[glitchfiles]

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses… 

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.” 

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head. 

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks. 

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.”  his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.  

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already. 

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place. 

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer. 

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it. 

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out. 

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are. 

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there. 

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you. 

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own. 

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress. 

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car. 

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.” 

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you. 

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat. 

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial. 

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.” 

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you. 

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having. 

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper. 

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak. 

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him. 

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty. 

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up. 

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.” 

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

 “next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.” 

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

© glitchfiles

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

[bellarkeselection]

I had an idea for rip. It’s kinda like the scene from season 1 where jimmy got beaten up by Fred but instead of Jimmy could it be the reader is rips wife and she’s secretly pregnant with their second child and she protects her stomach and then revel to rip she’s pregnant again. You can easily change bits to the story or even add a little bit of smut that’s fine with me .

The Rule Of Fighting…Especially my Wife

Threading my fingers through his black hair Rip broke the kiss pulling himself out of me where we laid under the covers naked. Running a hand over my face I began catching my breath. Moving my other hand over my growing pregnant belly until Rip grasped my hand in his. Rolling onto my side I whispered still not awake even though we woke up in a very pleasing way. “Do you have to go to work today. Can’t we just take a day and lay around the house?”

“You’re daddy wouldn’t like that. Besides I owe him everything for letting me work at the ranch.” He responded leaning forward and kissing me on the head gently getting up from the bed. He shrugs his jeans on and grabbed his black jacket with his hat off the hook.

Holding myself up on my elbow I held the sheet up against my chest even though he had seen me naked already. “Yeah you’re probably right, baby. Hey though where do you think our little Georgie is off too?”

“I ain’t too sure. He’s probably trying to sattle a horse or running around with his grandpa John. I’ll see you later tonight Y/n.” He placed his hat on his head coming over giving me one last kiss going to work.

Getting out of the bed, I ran my hands down my grown belly, looking myself over in the standing mirror we had in the corner of the bedroom. I slide on the pair of jeans that didn't press on my stomach, pairing it with a light orange flannel shirt that was tucked into them. With some light brown boots and a tan cowgirl hat on my head. Heading towards the barn, I grabbed the saddle for my horse about to throw it over until I heard someone make a remark about me entering the room. "Woah, I guess that Wheeler really couldn't let you go, so he just keeps knocking you up."

"I'm sorry do you have a problem with me?" Throwing the saddle over my horse I turned around on my feet with my boots kicking up dust.

My gaze met the appearance of one of the ranch hands who was named Fred if I remember correctly. "I've got a problem with you getting special attention from the boss."

"Your boss is my father, so.." Crossing my arms over my chest, I snipped in a slight tone.

Fred stepped closer towards me, glaring down at me since he was slightly taller than me. "I ain't talkin about your daddy, Dutton. You're sleeping with Wheeler and get off work early and still getting the same pay as we do. That isn't right in my opinion."

"First off, I get breaks more than you because of my five year old son Georgie and are you blind cause at the moment I'm pregnant again. Two, I'm heading to work now Fred - argh!" I screamed when he stomped up grabbing me by my hair yanking me backwards until I elbow him in the face.

He stumbled backwards holding his nose while I spun around on my feet. "You bitch!"

"You don't want to fight me, Fred." I warned him, getting in a fighting stance with my hands into fists ready to go.

Yet the ranch hand refused my warning and came charging straight for me. He tackled me to the dirt before I could really blink. He was throwing punches at me but I was blocking most until he gave a harsh one to my belly and I released a cry of agony. "God damn!" I cursed curling up in a ball for a second with him getting to his feet.

"You need to remember who is stronger here, Dutton girl." He spat down to me.

Sniffing through some tears i glared at him until I swiped my feet underneath his near mine where he topped to the dust. Forcing myself to my feet I held my stomach with one hand landing a good punch on his nose with the other. Fred came back trying to kick my stomach yet I buried my face close against it so he kneed me in the face. My nose begins bleeding where he quickly grabbed my arm throwing me over his back until we heard my son's sweet voice. "Mommy, why are you wrestling?"

"You're boys gonna see how weak you are - ohhh fuck!" Fred groaned in serious pain onto his knees when I kicked him in between his legs giving me the chance to rush to my son.

Grabbing his shoulders I croaked through tears and some pain myself. "Georgie, go find daddy now. Bring him here." He ran off when Fred started getting up until I charged tackling the man even though it was harder when I was pregnant.

Swinging a few punches at Fred I got some of his blood on my knuckles. He grabbed my wrists twisting them behind my back throwing me down again. "I told you I was stronger than you, bitch!" He growled in my ear where he about kicks me in the stomach again until someone harshly shoved his body against the wooden barn stalls.

Gasping for breath and some relief I sat upright seeing my husband Rip had him by the collar where he threw him against the stall and then did it again but it was down in the dirt raising his voice. "What's the rule about fighting, Fred. You wanna fight somebody, come fight me. I'll fight you all damn day!"

"That girl done started it with her saying that she deserves the same pay as we do but cuts out half the work. I guess you'll believe anything when you married a whore." Fred coughed looking at me when Georgie came over by my side.

Rip yanked the guy by his jacket holding him against the wall where he almost couldn't breathe by the choke hold he had on the ranch hand. "What did you call her!"

"She's knows I'm right that's she had to send in the little guy to get the big guns." Fred taunts until my husband kicked him harshly in the gut and he collapsed into the dirt.

He grabbed Fred up one last time against the wall for good measure croaking his deep tone with the words he declared. "If you ever hit or speak to my wife like that again I'll kill you, Fred! Are you okay, Y/n?" He released him from his grasp coming slowly over to me with his gaze softening.

"I hurt a little bit...here especially. But otherwise I think I'll be fine." I mumbled placing my hand in his with my eyes dropping to my pregnant stomach where he tugged me up to stand where he picked me up bridal style when I almost collapsed onto the dirt not able to stand on my own.

He carried me back to our cabin with Georgie following us and opening the door to the cabin, then our bedroom and finally the bathroom. "Georgie, go grab one of my shirts and the shorts off the foot of the bed for mommy." Rip spoke towards our son who quickly came back with what he asked.

"Is mommy going to be okay, daddy?" He asked with worry in his sweet voice.

Rip sat me down on the toilet lowering himself to his knees since I didn't have gotten my balance back yet. "She will be. I want you to go play with grandpa John while I help mommy okay little man." He nodded leaving us alone in the bathroom letting silence into the room.

He slowly tugged on my shirt shrugging it over and off my body giving him perfect view of my belly. "I'm sorry he did this to you..to our baby. I'll take him to the train station tomorrow morning if that's what you want." He placed his on my bump feeling me slightly pull away when he touched the sorest part of my body from the fight.

"Rip, don't blame yourself for this. Fred has always been a jackass from the day my father hired him. I'll go to the doctor and get the baby checked out." Resting my hands on his shoulders I sent him a half smile knowing he would start blaming himself for me getting injured.

He nodded, helping me remove my pants and slide the shorts up. He ran a hand through my hair once I slipped his shirt on that was like a dress on me. "I love you so much, darling. He will never touch you again I swear it." He softly took me into his arms carrying me into the other room laying me down in the bed.

He climbed in on his side and I snuggled up into his warmth knowing he would leave to deal with the rancher when I went to sleep and rested. "I love you, Rip and so will this second child of ours." Whispering up into his brown eyes I intertwined our hands together closing my eyes letting sleep overtake me.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[promitto-amor]

Should Something Happen

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x You

Summary: While working as Jigsaw Apprentices, Amanda spoils some quality bonding time between yourself and Hoffman.

Warnings: Cursing!

Might this actually be a little bit of fluff? I wanted to do something involving the main Jigsaw crew and a protective Hoffman. 👀

Perhaps the only aspect of being an apprentice Mark enjoyed was the opportunity to work alongside you. Every trap crafted, every game played and every eventual death led Mark one step closer to his freedom. A life no longer in servitude for an impulsive act of vengeance. Mark had always struggled to quell his impulsiveness. It made him good in the field, Mark had earned a fair share of promotions for his quick actions, but his greatest mistake had cost him almost a year of servitude to Jigsaw himself. Until his sentence was up, until mark could be certain both John Kramer and his helper monkey were dead, he would carry out his part in the games with minimal complaint. In the meantime, he could find a steady contentment in watching the slackened, dream-like expression on your face as you fiddled with some shards of broken glass. 

“Careful,” Mark finds himself saying, “It’s not intended to spill your blood.”

You drop the shards back into the glass coffin and wander back to the workbench you’ve commandeered as a desk, “There’s so many traps,” You whine and if it were anyone else Mark would be grinding his teeth together. You flip your notebook onto a fresh page, “Who is this one for again?”

“I try not to make a habit of remembering names.” Mark answers, “Once you name something you get attached.”

You nod, “You’re right.” You pick up your pencil and hover it over the page. “Sadly I don’t have that luxury.” Mark keeps one eye on you as he cleans up his workbench, placing a set of screwdriver heads back in their assigned places. You think for a couple more minutes, your expression growing more pained till you drop the pencil again. “How can I write the tape for someone I know barely anything about?”

“Don’t ask me,” Mark says. “I’ve never been one for words.”

You give him a shrewd look, as if confirming his words. “You have special uses.” You say, jumping off your stool and heading over to a stack of boxes, freshly delivered.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

You send him a small smile, “Brawn, muscle, inside info…” 

“Is that all I am?” Mark can’t help the flicker of irritation he feels, “A meathead?”

“No,” You return to him, catching on you may have offended him. “You…” A couple teeth sink into your lip, “You’re the only one whose behaving.” 

Mark glances towards the open door, connecting the room to the rest of the Nerve Gas House, “Go on.”

You turn cagey, “Ever since Mexico…”

“Ah,” Mark nods, “Say no more.”

“I don’t like what I’ve been hearing.” You admit, “The aim of all this was never revenge.”

“Was it not?” Mark enjoys how your head lifts up to meet his gaze, “Was that not why you got mixed up in all this?”

You fix him with eyes of steel, “Maybe…” You admit, “But not anymore. Seems we’re cut from the same cloth, Detective.”

Mark likes how you say his title, pronouncing every syllable distinctly, “You don’t know me. Not really.”

“Maybe we should work on that?”

Something gives a leap inside Mark. Before he can answer you’re back at the delivery boxes and Amanda is thudding through the door. Her steel toe capped boots echo on the wood, little patches of dust springing up where she steps. She pauses on catching Mark stood in the centre of the room, “Admiring my work?” She asks, tilting her head.

“I thought John made this one?” You pipe up, before Mark can.

“He did.” Mark confirms, “That’s why this one has some refinement.”

“But it was my idea to add the…” Amanda’s points to the walls and then places her hands a couple inches apart. She presses them together slowly, applying pressure. The visual is enough for Mark to look away.

You busy yourself with the boxes again, “There’s nothing but syringes.” You take out one to show the two apprentices.

Mark tosses you a pair of gloves, “Put them on, they probably aren’t clean.”

You make a face and drop the syringe you’re holding, “Great. I’m going to need a check-up after this.”

“Be thankful you’re not the poor bastard diving in there.” Amanda smirks, heading over to inspect the coffin trap. “Is this one done yet?”

“Just needs a couple tests,” Mark says. “Any volunteers?”

“You first.” Amanda holds her arms up as if she’s a presenter, “Get in there, Detective.”

“What about you, babe?” Amanda slinks over to you and throws an arm around your shoulders, “The glass isn’t in yet, it’ll be like taking a good nap.”

“Stop trying to scare her.” Mark’s voice comes out with more bite than he expected. 

Amanda’s eyes flash, “Why you protective all of a sudden, Hoffman?”

Mark would never confess to the bitch before him, but he’s made a mistake and Amanda knows it. “We’re not testing anything without John here.”

Amanda makes a noncommittal noise.

“If John approves it, I’ll test it.” You offer, “I trust him.” Amanda jumps back into performance mode, “Aren’t they precious?”

“If you put this on.” You gingerly remove from another box a very familiar contraption and hold it out for Amanda to see. Mark grins behind Amanda’s back. He can just picture the colour draining from her face. Amanda doesn’t move as you walk past her with the Reverse Bear Trap in hand, “Very funny.” She calls, trying to reclaim some of her bravado.

“I thought so.” You counter, placing the device on the workbench.

Amanda’s scowl only becomes more prominent the longer she stares at her old trap, “Why is that here?” “Inventory.” You supply, “Or so I’m guessing.”

“Something old can always be re-used.” John wheels himself into the room. Wheelchair bound, he surveys the glass coffin standing pride of place in the middle of the room. “Is Laura’s test finished?”

“Almost,” Mark busies himself with checking over the gears situated behind the coffin.

“Laura,” You repeat, scribbling something on your pad. “I couldn’t for the life of me remember.”

John appears amused at your choice of words, “Writer’s block?” You look up as John wheels himself over to you. The Reverse Bear Trap is sat just a few feet away, Mark doesn’t like how close you are to something so barbaric. With you showing John your tape speeches and Mark still preoccupied with the gears, Amanda sulks in the middle. She makes her way over to Mark’s toolbox and grabs a wrench, right in John’s line of sight. Mark thinks it’s pathetic behaviour, how co-dependent she’s become since Mexico. He can see that your worries were justified. She makes her way over to the trap, but Mark has left her with nothing to do.

“There’s one glaring issue I see with this entire game,” You say in a low voice. You glance over to Amanda, “Won’t they all get suspicious if every one of them has a trap but her?”

“What did you say?”

“Amanda,” John cautions as his apprentice as she wheels round on the spot.

“I just worry that something will happen.” You say, closing your notebook and leaning against the workbench. “Are you really betting on all them failing and Daniel just being the last one left alive?”

“He doesn’t have a trap either.” Amanda points out, “I’m not the only one.”

“He isn’t being tested.” John states simply, “That is why you are there, Amanda. To protect him.” He turns back to you, “Nor is Amanda being tested.”

‘I still think we should put something in there.” You hold up your hands, “I think it’s foolish to leave it to chance.”

“Not if you can predict the outcome.”

Mark has heard it all before from John Kramer. He knows your attempts are futile, so he finishes up his work on the coffin and with nothing else to do, makes his way to the door. “I’m done for the night.”

“Thank you, Mark.” John says, “The game begins tomorrow. I presume you’ll be in position?”

“On the monitors.” He nods.

He’s been excused. Mark should go home and rest up for a long day ahead tomorrow. But he can’t quite bring himself to leave. John has resumed helping you with writing out the tape for the trap, but Mark doesn’t like how Amanda won’t leave the two of you alone. Her new behaviour has made him protective. Mark would have liked you to finish up at the same time as him. Perhaps he could offer to drop you home and they could work on getting to know each other.

“You want to put me in that.”

You, John and Mark all turn to Amanda, “What?” You ask.

Amanda nods, “That.” She points to the Reverse Bear Trap, “You want that to be my test. You want me to do it again?”

John glances imperceptibly to Mark. He swallows, so John shares their concern about his favourite apprentice. “Do you know how stupid you sound?” Mark cuts in, taking up what he hopes is a casual position beside you. “Everyone knows you already escaped it. 24/7 news coverage.” You’re still leaning against the workbench as Amanda walks around it, her eyes fixed on you as if you were prey. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You taunt, “Some poetic justice”, but Amanda doesn’t find it clever. 

She shoves the Reverse Bear Trap toward you, “You don’t deserve to be here.” She hisses. Mark swears he can hear a ticking sound as you brace your arms on the table, “Of all the people to win, it had to be you didn’t it?” “Fair and square.” You return and Mark finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what your own game was. Before Amanda, before Mark himself joined Jigsaw, you were tested and won. His eyes fall on the scar on your neck, all that remains of your own brush with death.

“Use your brain,” You counter and your face is far too close to the trap as you glare back at Amanda Young. “You’d have to wake up in it, or someone would have to put you in it. I don’t think either of those are going to work in this game.”

“How about you wake up in it, you bitch?”

Mark’s hands snake around your middle and yank you back just as the trap rips open with a loud bang. The ferocity makes both you and Amanda jump. You would have fallen off your stool if not for Mark’s chest breaking your fall. He can feel the sharp breaths you take as the Reverse Bear Trap cools down and lies dormant once more.

“Amanda, take the trap and put it in my office.” John says. His apprentice turns wide, teary eyes on him, but John’s face is expressionless. “Now.”

She obeys instantly, taking the trap and striding out of the room.

Mark slides you back onto your stool, “Thank you.” You murmur, hand jumping instinctively to your neck.

“Are you alright?” John asks and you nod. Mark can see right through you, he could feel the tremors of your body against his. That was a close call. 

“She’s out of line, John.” Mark says, “I don’t know what the fuck happened over there, but it’s messed with her.”

“Amanda will be fine.” John insists, “She will play her part, so long as she isn’t provoked.” You nod, understanding your own fault but Mark refuses to admit to his own. “Now Detective, I believe we’re finished here. I will see you both tomorrow for the final preparations.”

Mark watches John wheel himself out. The moment he’s gone you rest your forearms on the workbench and place your head on them. You let out a deep sigh. Mark’s never been good at consoling anyone. It’s just not what he does. Not since Angelina…

He spots your fallen notebook and places it beside you, “Need a ride home?” “I don’t think I want to go home.” You say, your voice weak.

“You don’t want to stay here.” Mark says, “You can’t anyway. They all…arrive tomorrow.”

“How can you do that?” You lift up your head, “How can you willingly put people in here knowing they will probably die?” Mark meets your eyes, “I convince myself they deserve to suffer.”

“You don’t lie awake thinking about it?”

“No,” He’s being honest. “I think it’s one less shitty person out there.”

“Then you must think that about me.” You push some hair out of your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself. “I’m not…you know what I did-“

“And you know what I did.” Mark takes you by your forearms, “Do you think I’m a monster?”

Your eyes dart around the room and then land on the glass coffin, “Sometimes.” Mark allows himself time to digest that, it isn’t what he wanted to hear. But your hands come to rest on his own forearms and then you’re pressing your forehead into his chest, “But you make me feel safe. You help me.”

He didn’t expect to earn such close proximity again, this time deliberately. Mark pulls you closer, your hands slide up to rest on his chest and Mark curses his choice to remain in a jacket. Your warmth is tantalising as it seeps into him. Mark tucks you into his large frame and winds his arms back around you.

It feels good to be wanted.

With your face smushed into him, Mark rests his head atop yours. He doesn’t know what else he can do, so he lets his eyes close. “We can look out for each other.” He proposes, “Should something happen.”

“I’d like that.”

[musingginger]

separate ways // eddie munson

Synopsis – Eddie sure does love to torment you and turn you into putty in his hands. 😊

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x You

Warnings –some cursing, fluff, lots of nicknames (princess, sweetheart, angel), no Y/N, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, 18+ only, minors DNI, cockwarming, grinding, lots of fingering (receiving), nipple play, soft!eddie, a tad bit of possessive!eddie if you squint, softdom!eddie, praise, squirting.

Word Count – 3.2k

A/N- I *clap* WANT *clap* THIS *clap* SO *clap* BADLY*clap*!  *screams into pillow* This idea got me wildly hot, so I of course had to write it down for all of y’all. Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. Also, this is only edited by me, so apologies if there are typos. And of course, if you enjoy it, please reblog! Hope you enjoy! Thanks! <3

I do not grant permission for anyone to use my work. Under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You were going to lose your mind if he kept it up.

It was a typical Friday night in the trailer. Eddie threw on one of his new favorite slasher flicks, Sleepaway Camp. You had probably watched it close to 10 times in the last two months. Eddie had you laying with your back to his chest, in between his legs. You loved laying like this against him. You could feel every breath, every laugh, every jump scare (though he vehemently denied it every time). And of course, every little kiss on the top of your ear Eddie gave you when you got scared yourself.

But tonight, something was different.

Tonight, you wore a cute new red plaid mini skirt that you had gotten for Christmas. You loved the way it looked with your beat-up combat boots. Subconsciously, you might have worn it to torment Eddie… he’s always said he had an affinity for skirts and combat boots. When you got to the trailer, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sweetheart… is that-uh-is that new?” He licks his lips, clearing his throat, trying to get the words out.

“Yeah baby! You like it?” You give him a little twirl on the porch.

“You-uh-you could say that again, sweetheart.” He smirks, giving you that boyish smile as he scratched the back of his head. He sticks his head out of the doorframe, looking right and left. “You better get in here before you start getting cat called and someone asks me where my girlfriend went.”

Eddie grabbed your hand firmly and yanked you inside.

That was two hours ago.

Now you were comfortably in between Eddie’s legs, watching Sleepaway Camp. His large warm hand was laying gently on your thigh.  His mouth had been getting closer to your ear for the last few min, and he was now breathing hotly against your delicate skin.

He gently starts to stroke your thigh with his left hand. You gasp a little as cold rings hit your skin, making you shiver.

“You ok, angel?” He asks gently, whispering in your ear, tilting his head to get a good look at you.

You nod, catching your breath and trying to focus on the movie. You clear your throat, shaking your head a little bit, adjusting slightly.

“Uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Eddie gives you a little peck on your cheek. His long trestles tickling your face.   

You shake your head. “Nope… all good, Eds.” You turn your head back, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Well as long as your comfortable… You can always tell me to move or stop…” He smirks, giving your nose a tiny kiss as his other hand starts to gently fiddle with the hem of your skirt. The touch makes your breath hitch, as you look up into his big, brown eyes.

“You gotta pay attention to the movie sweetheart…” He lifts his pointer finger, making a small circle, encouraging you to turn back around. You roll your eyes, turning your head back to the movie. For the amount of times he’s gotten distracted during a movie, god forbid if it was YOU that got distracted.

You both lay there for a few minutes, his fingers tracing along the bottom of the plaid. He carefully and softly starts to pull your thighs apart.

“Eddie…” You say softly, your face getting warm and you feel hot all over.

“Shh sweetheart, the movie. It’s just now getting to the good part.” Eddie kisses the top of your head, smirking.  His broad hand lightly grips the inner part of your thigh, dutifully pulling apart your legs until your skirt is hiked up on your upper thighs. You let out a little moan as you feel the cool air hit your panties, which had gotten, surprisingly, ridiculously wet.

Eddie gently pulls your skirt up a little more, just enough where he could see the tiniest bit of your panties. He bites his lip softly, smiling to himself. He had been wanting to get you into this position since you got here. Eddie strokes you with his rough, calloused thumb on your smooth thigh while his other hand starts to move towards the ever growing heat under your panties.

Suddenly, you feel gentle pressure on your clit. Not too much. Just enough. The touch from Eddie’s fingers on both sides of your sensitive nub makes you start to squirm. Firm circles start to encompass your hot button, making your thighs start to clench together.

“Ah ah ah… no no sweetheart.” Eddie murmurs in your ear as he hooks his ankles around your calves, pushing your legs back open and KEEPING them open. He wasn’t gonna let you move an inch, and you let him. You liked it.

“That’s my good girl…” he murmurs in your ear, possessively patting your pussy. He slides fingers back under your panties, rubbing your clit lighter. The movement makes you roll your eyes back and instinctively buck up into his hand.

Eddie smirks and taps your firm bud delicately. “Sweetheart, if you move too much, I’ll stop…. And you don’t want me to do that now do you?”

You bite your lip, shaking your head from side to side. You hold your hips down, trying your hardest not to move a muscle. After a minute or so, Eddie starts to rub your clit again.

Soft, messy sounds start to fill the room from your dripping wet pussy. God, he really knew how to really work you up. Firm circles, followed by gentle slides became his rhythm and it was driving you crazy. He hikes up your skirt around your waist, giving him a full view.

“You soaked through your panties, angel….” You whine on top of him, unable to speak.

Suddenly, his fingers leave your clit, making you whine softly. Eddie reaches over to his side table to pull out a pair of scissors, in which he quickly cuts your panties off of you at your hips.

“Eds! What are you-?” You softly protest, as Eddie shushes you softly.

“You don’t need those, now do you sweetheart?” Putting away the scissors, he slowly peels the white fabric off your soaking cunt. The action itself almost makes you cum. You start to arch your back, but remember what he said about moving, and you lay back against him, giving him your full body weight.

Cool night air hits your soaked pussy like a brick wall, that makes you shudder. Eddie lets go of your thigh and moves his hands up your sides slowly. He starts to lift your shirt, showing off your full tits.

“Can’t be neglecting these now can I sweetheart?” He moans softly in your ear, as he pulls up your bra, exposing your chest to him. He groans softy as his big hands grope your tits, making his bulge throb against your back.

You move your fingers towards your acing nub, but before you can get there, Eddie swats your hand away.

“Now now… you’ve gotta be a good girl for me, remember? Good girls don’t touch without asking. And you’re not allowed to touch at all.” He says a little roughly, putting your hand back on his thigh. You nod, understanding.

“I’ll be a good girl. I promise Eds.” You whisper horsely. He turns your head to give you a deep kiss, booping your nose.

“I know you will princess…” He slightly adjusts, focusing back on your heaving chest.

Moaning hotly in your ear, his pointer fingers and thumbs gently pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. You groan softly while he plays with your hard nubs, your fingers gripping into his thighs a little harder.

“Look at you being such a good girl for me.” He kisses your cheek firmly, while he tugs a little harder. The slight pain makes you yelp from pleasure, making you drip from your slick hole.

“MMmmm that’s it. Let me take care of you babygirl.” His strong tongue licks your earlobe, biting it roughly while he watches your body shiver and shake from his touch.

He lets go of your right nipple, moving back down to your pussy, which you were sure by this point had left a little pool on the bed. Expertly finding your clit again, he tenderly strokes you with his thumb. You gasp, pushing your head to the side, into his shoulder a bit.

“Eddie… Eds please… please… I want to…” You groan louder as you body starts to shake under him. You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence.

“You want to what sweetheart? You know you have to use your words…” He says teasingly, biting your neck.

“I wa.. I want to cum Eds.” You whine at him, yelping as his thumb strokes your bud a little harder.

Eddie smiles devilishly. “Well, you know princess that want, and need are two very different things… and I need to you to NEED to cum. Do you understand?” He whispers softly into your ear. His curly locks touching the side of your face.

“Yes Eddie... yes… I need to cum.” You whimper against him.

He makes a small tsk sound. “Mmm I’m not quite convinced yet sweetheart.” He starts to use the pads of his pointer and middle fingers to diligently rub your clit. The action makes you furrow your brow, moaning a little louder now.

“Does that feel good princess?” Eddie moans into your ear. The action of getting you off was getting him harder than he had maybe ever been before.

“Mmhmm yes Eds it feels…ah… really good.. don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You whimper against him. Eddie leaves wet kisses along your neck and collarbone while he keeps pinching your nipple and perfectly rubbing your bundle of nerves.

You could barely hear the screams from the tv over Eddie’s panting in your ear. The sensation was becoming too much and your legs start to twitch and shake more violently as your climax starts to reach its peak.

“Eddie… please… please I need to cum.” You moan. Holding onto his thighs was the only thing that was keeping you somewhat grounded.

“Mmmm I don’t think you’re desperate enough yet sweetheart. Just a little bit longer princess.” Your wetness had made his fingers slick and it easier to glide over your throbbing clit.

Moving his fingers over you in an agonizingly slow manner, before picking up the pace once again. You tremble, a moan stuck in your throat. You don’t think you can hold on anymore.

“Eddie… please PLEASE please I need to cum… Eds please!” Your entire body shakes on top of him, making his cock unbelievably hard. You feel the long, thick member throbbing against you.

“You can do it princess… just a little longer. I’ll count you down, ok? I’ll count back from 30. 30….”

As he starts to count back, your mind has to only focus on the numbers. Every few seconds he’d say another number, clearly wanting to torment you. By the time he gets to 10, you’re panting and moaning, crying out in frustration, nails gripping into his jeans.

“5….”

“4…”

“3…” He starts to count even slower now. You can hear his devilish smile in his voice.

“Eds… please… PLEASE…”

“Shhh… 2…”

“EDDIE!” You scream out.

“1…”

A massive tidal wave of an orgasm washes over you, making you leak onto the bed. The relief brings tears to your eyes as you cum hard than you thought was possible for a person to cum. Your dripping hole clenching around nothing almost made you want to cry.

Eddie slows down his rubbing, placing hot kisses on the hollow spot below your ear. He sits up a little, letting go of your nipple, placing his hand back down on your thigh. He grips it roughly, pulling you open more.

Suddenly, you feel two nimble fingers enter your empty, dripping cunt. You yelp out loudly, as the sensation is overwhelming.

“Eds! Wh- Baby… Wha-” Choked pants get caught in your throat as you finally feel his fingers plug up the emptiness between your legs.

“Shhh I just wanna see something sweetheart. I wanna keep making you feel so good… so fucking good.” He gently turns your head back to the front, pushing you up a little bit. “I want you to watch.”

He licks and bites at your neck, leaving pretty lavender marks along your delicate skin. He starts to firmly finger your pussy, adding just a little bit with every thrust, until his fingers where deep inside you, hitting your g-spot. This new position had his arms pushing your tits together, making them shake with every movement.

You turn your face towards his, eyes pleading. “Eddie… its too much!”

He sharply stops. “Do you want me to stop sweetheart? I can if you want me to…” The second his fingers start to slide out of your pussy, you whimper and start to plead for them to go back in. “See, this is how I know you’re my good girl…”

He pushes his fingers back into you deeply, making your back arch. His hand is gripping you harder now, leaving bright red marks on your inner thigh. Sloppy sounds from your wet pussy start to get louder as he fingers you deeper and faster.

You groan loudly, lets starting to twitch again. He always knew how to make you cum fast from his fingers, but in this position, it made his fingers feel inches longer. He gently spreads them inside of you, causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck princess, you look so pretty with my fingers inside of you…” His lips leave your neck for just a moment to watch as well. His digits glistening in the soft light of bedside lamp, his cock throbbing uncontrollably in his pants.

Your pussy starts to clamp down on your lover’s fingers, your lips bright red from your teeth biting them, trying hard not to move too much. You roll your eyes back as another wave starts to roll over your body.

“Eddie, I’m gonna…” You screech as you cum hard around his fingers. Pussy dripping over his hand. You never realized your pussy could ever get so wet.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps up his steady pace. Wet, messy sounds leave your cunt, while Eddie starts to softly hump your back.

“That’s it sweetheart… just one more… I know you can do it. Fuck… You’re being so… good for me princess.” He groans loudly as he bucks into you a little harder.

Tipping his fingers up slightly, now focusing on your g-spot, which makes you leak even more. Your tits are bouncing wildly now, and the cold air keeping your nipples hard.

Eddie kisses your temple softly, giving you soft praises in your ear. “Keep watching love… I want you to see what I’m doing to you.” You lock your eyes on his fingers pumping in and out of your pink pussy. The wave gets closer and closer.

“You don’t need to ask or tell me when you’re gonna cum this time babygirl. Just lean into it… let it happen… let me take care of you.” He grunts, moving his fingers harder in and out of you.

He starts to hook his fingers up into your g-spot, and relentlessly presses on it, coaxing your body into another orgasm. His eyes are wide, transfixed on your body. The body that was melting into his with ever second that passed. The sensation overpowers you, your eyes glazing over with tears of pleasure.

“I know sweetheart, I know… I got you… I got you.” He mutters deeply into your ear.

Then, without warning, your climax hits you like a mack truck. Screaming, you gush over his fingers, squirting all over the bed.

“THAT’S IT PRINCESS! SUCH A GOOD GIRL!” He roughly kisses your cheek and rubs your clit with 3 of his fingers back and forth, making you spray harder. He pounds his fingers back inside of you, making you squirt again. Your body arches and writhes on top of him. You’re unable to stop your body from moving, even if you wanted to.

The deep satisfaction makes you lose your sense of self, only focusing on pleasure, lost in the sound of your own panting. For a brief moment, you hear in the distance Eddie praising you.

“Such a good girl.. you did so well for me…” Eddie slows his fingers to a halt, gradually sliding out of you. He pulls you into his lap, cradling you gently, peppering your face with kisses.

You tremble against him, trying to catch your breath, nuzzling your face into his neck, laying on gentle easy kisses.

Eddie gingerly runs his fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face. Your eyes flutter open, feeling fluffy and treasured. You give him a small smile. His thumb rubs along your bottom lip, tugging at the corner of your mouth before kissing you deeply.

“There she is… You ok sweetheart?” He asks you so carefully, as if you were a piece of China he didn’t want to break.

You breathe in softly before nodding. “I’m ok Eds… I’m more than ok…” You smirk a little, blushing totally blissed out. “I-I didn’t know I could do that.” Looking over at the mess you left on the bed.

“Mmm I did. It was just a matter of time…” He whispers the pad of his thumb lightly touching your clit. It makes you jump, but then you lean into it a bit more. “But I’m serious. Are you alright? I didn’t push you too far?”

“Eds, no. It was amazing baby.” You put your hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. As you break away, a though crosses your mind.

“What about you Eddie… Do you want me to…?” You wiggle your butt a little on his jeans, realizing there’s a wet spot. “Oh! Fuck, sorry. Did I do…”

You look at Eddie as the words start to leave your mouth, and he blushes a deep red. He looks down at you, smiling sheepishly.

“Ah yeah… No sweetheart that’s-ahem-that’s not from you.” He scratches the back of his head boyishly. You giggle at his admission.

“Baby! You got that worked up?”

“Well duh… I mean look at you!” He laughs loudly, kissing in between your tits. You let out a loud laugh as his hair tickles your neck. He leaves a trail of spit as he takes your right nipple in his mouth, giving it a soft suck before popping it back out.  He leans back, drinking all of you in.

“You know… since we’re both a bit of a mess now… how about we get in the shower, I’ll get you all cleaned up and then we can come back here… and make more of a mess.”

You bite your bottom lip again, smiling at him.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” You yell hoping off of him, making a mad dash for the bathroom. Eddie groans, chuckling to himself at the sight and darts after you.

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[asteroidzzzn]

stargirl

pairing: rockstar!ellie x bartender!reader

warnings: cursing, smoking, eventual sexual themes, ellies kinda an asshole, reader is delulu (are u sensing a pattern here)

songs in this chapter: arabella - arctic monkeys

word count: 1.6k

a/n: every authors canon event is writing a band au, its my time now.

summary: the fireflies is a new band consisting of three people. after being cheated out by their former bassist, they needed to find a replacement, and quick. who better than you, the cute bartender that hasn't touched an instrument in years?

you stumbled through the hot crowd of drunken bodies, searching for the side door. dozens of people were rushing to the stage where the new up-and-coming band was performing, making it even more difficult to push past.

you heard someone tap the mic, followed by a raspy chuckle which caught your attention. you paused in the crowd to briefly observe the band.

"hey, we're the fireflies, welcome everyone! before we start, i'd like you all to give a round of applause to jesse chang on the drums," a man with dark hair flipped and threw his drumsticks with his fingers while wearing a smug smile, having girls in the audience cheer and scream. showoff.

"dina woodward on the keys," a woman with thick eyebrows and her hair in a messy knot on the top of her head waved to the crowd.

"and of course, me, ellie williams, as the lead singer and guitarist," she played a quick riff, and the crowd cheered once more. "now, you may be wondering, where's our bassist? well, that bitch, abby anderson, stole our ideas and tried to take all the credit for two whole albums for herself."

there were scattered murmurs amongst the crowd. your curiosity was strangely piqued, despite already having a strong judgement towards band members. you had found them to be shallow and selfish because how could someone be in the music industry without being at least a little bit obsessed with themself and an asshole?

ellie continued, "so, excuse me if this song is a little off, we're in the process of finding a replacement for her, but the show must go on. this one's called arabella," she turned to jesse, "whenever you're ready."

jesse started up the song, ellie joining in with a few flicks on her guitar. dina's hands danced on the keys, creating an uneven yet flowing melody, and setting the mood for the song. ellie adjusted the mic, and began singing lowly.

arabella's got some interstellar gator skin boots,

and a helter skelter 'round her little finger, and I ride it endlessly,

ellie closed her eyes as she sang, furrowing her eyebrows with extreme focus. somehow, she had the ability to sing beautifully while expertly playing the guitar, and making all of it look like it was the easiest thing in the world. it was as if she'd been doing this from the moment she came out of the womb.

you found yourself mesmerized by the way the lyrics fell through her lips.

she's got a barbarella silver swimsuit

and when she needs to shelter from reality

she takes a dip in my daydreams

in the blink of an eye, ellie's fingers shifted from ghosting over the strings to quickly strumming. jesse tapped the symbols like a metronome as ellie's voice rose, evolving into an intense, almost shouting level.

my days end best when the sunset gets itself behind

that little lady sittin' on the passenger side

it's much less picturesque without her catchin' the light

the horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes...

you refused to acknowledge the way your eyebrows shot up and cheeks flushed as she drew out each of her words into a low whihne.

jackie, your coworker, found you in the crowd and slapped her palm on your shoulder, removing you from your trance.

"hey, i thought you were on your break? y'know, you don't need to stay in here," she needed to raise her voice because of the sudden cheering that had erupted from the crowd. your focus darted back to the stage to see ellie's head thrown back, having a guitar solo.

you quickly snapped your head to jackie, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible. "just wanted to see what all the fuss was about, i'm heading outside right now," you swiftly left jackie behind and found the exit, drowning out the sounds of ellie practically moaning into the mic.

you groaned when the door slammed shut, falling back against the cool brick wall. you pulled a cigarette and lighter from your pocket. you shielded the flame from the heavy wind with your hand, inhaling deeply as soon as it was lit. you exhaled heavily, feeling the drums from inside pulsing.

you didn't know many things about ellie williams. you knew she was in a band, she could sing, play guitar, and you were very sure about one thing in particular. she was really hot.

you took another inhale. you knew nothing could ever happen between the two of you. you screwed your eyes shut with embarrassment when you briefly entertained the idea of speaking to her.

you wondered what she would say, if she would give you that smug smile she gave the audience. but maybe that look was reserved for screaming crowds that were basically on their knees for her. i'd be on my kne—

your disturbing thoughts were overdriven by the fear that your break ended. you pulled out your phone to check the time. two more minutes. you decided you should go back inside. you opened the door and made a dash straight behind the bar, pretending the band didn't even exist.

༊*·˚

after four more hours of making ice-cold drinks until your hands became numb and dealing with gross old men hitting on you, you said goodbye to your coworkers to finally head home.

you pushed open the side door, trying to open a new pack with your lighter in between your teeth.

are you kidding me?

ellie emerged from the backstage exit, jesse right on her tail, yelling loudly.

"that was the worst we've ever done, ellie! i know you didn't notice because you're so fucking focused on yourself as always, but we need a bassist and now! we can't perform without one again, that was a shitshow!"

ellie simply rolled her eyes. "dude i'm trying to find one. you want me to fucking snap my fingers and conjure one out of thin air?"

your hands quit working on removing the plastic, staying quiet and eavesdropping on their conversation.

ellie halted in the middle of the alleyway just as dina walked in, dragging the instruments outside.

"thanks for all the help, dickheads," dina chuckled, but her face dropped when she saw jesse and ellie's furious expressions.

"um, i'm not actually mad, i don't mind carrying the stuff," she trailed off when ellie shoved jesse's chest.

"if you want a bassist so goddamn bad, find them on your own. just because i started this band doesn't mean you can't pitch in every once in a while," she spat, and jesse scoffed loudly.

"you're ridiculous."

dina set the luggage down and placed herself between the two.

"guys, this isn't the time to be talking about this," she guided them to the side of the narrow road. "you've been blocking that poor girl from getting out this whole time."

all three of them found your eyes and stared. you stared back with your nails digging into your pack, lighter in your mouth.

"um, i'm fine," you mumbled, stepping out of the dark corner. "jus tryin to get this open," you lifted the pack before getting back to your work on it.

dina approached you while ellie and jesse remained silent. "here, let me help you with that," she used her canines to rip a hole in the plastic, then slipped her nail in and pulled the whole covering off.

"hope you don't mind i put my mouth on it..."

"nah, i don't care," you shook your head, dropping your lighter into your hand and taking the pack. "you want one? unless you mind that i just had it in my mouth," you flashed a small smile while lighting the cigarette in your mouth.

dina snickered, "doesn't matter to me," she took one and leaned in, allowing you to light it for her.

you noticed ellie and jesse in the background glancing between each other and you and dina.

"i'm dina, that one's jesse, and she's ellie."

you nodded. "i'm y/n, i actually work here."

dina smiled and lifted her eyebrows. "oh no way, that's awesome!"

"yeah, i've been bartending for three years now."

dina gave ellie and jesse a quick look, and turned back to you, slightly more serious now.

"hey, sorry if this is too straightforward, but we're looking for a new bassist. you know anyone?"

you could have mentioned your brother, who built guitars for a living and regularly took gigs playing at restaurants. or any of your old band members from high school. they would have been a perfect fit. and you wouldn't get another opportunity like this again. you would have to be content with just observing while they were the ones on stage.

and yet, the words slipped out before you had a chance to think about them.

"i can play, a bit."

"oh, wait—" dina began, but the two lurking further away from you decided to finally join the conversation.

"are you serious? really?" jesse asked, excitement clear in his expression.

you nodded, suddenly very shy. "well, i haven't in years so i'm not the best, but i could just be a temporary fix until—"

ellie interrupted. "you don't have to be the best, just don't suck, yeah?"

dina and jesse simultaneously hit her shoulder from each side.

"ellie! be genuine," dina hissed.

ellie threw her hands up, jaw slacked. "i am! i actually am," she quickly swatted away dina and jesses hands that were ready to attack again and turned to you.

"i really—we're really grateful. this is truly so helpful to us. so, thank you."

you smiled and looked at each of them. dina slung her arm around you to show you off.

"see how easy that was, guys? you're welcome, by the way."

ellie and jesse muttered half-assed thank yous while looking everywhere except dina's proud face.

dina patted your shoulder and grinned. "welcome to the fireflies, y/n."

oh god. what have you gotten yourself into?

a/n: woahhhhhhhh wow y/n is delulu whats new? im rlly excited for this story i have so many cool ideas!!! yay!! (*✧×✧*) hope u enjoyed this!

[callsign-hexen]

Western Skies

Summary: after having dinner with the rest of the Abbott family, you and Rhett enjoy some time together in the field

word count: 4.2K

Warnings: cursing, Rhett being a shy boy around Reader, making out in a field, doing more stuff in a field, dirty talk, oral sex (female), a slight hand job, vaginal fingering, PiV sex in a field, cream pie (reader is on birth control, but wrap it before you tap it, folks), 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, no use of Y/N. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: This took longer to make due to procrastination, a summer class, and a bachelorette party weekend. Some of the spicy dialogue is based on things that my boyfriend has said to me. I have PLENTY of ideas, but any suggestions or requests are welcome! Enjoy!

You and Rhett had only been seeing each other for two months. You met him years ago in high school when your family moved to town in the middle of your sophomore year. You never talked, but he admired you from afar, almost as if it were love at first sight. Not quite love at the time, but the feeling that something was here. The pretty new girl in town, the one who was quiet, shy, and would never talk unless someone spoke to you first. Usually, it was somebody asking the age-old question: “Why move here?”. You never really knew how to answer that question, as simple as it was. A small town like Wabang being as boring as it is, especially to a teenager, one would wonder who the hell would want to move in instead of moving out.

The two of you somehow managed to never start a conversation with each other for the rest of your high school years. But you knew of each other’s existence well enough that if someone were to have told either of you news about the other that had been going through the town, you would generally know who they were talking about.

Rhett had kept you in the back of his mind as he went throughout his life in Wabang, even during the whole Maria debacle. He often thought of himself as a creep for it, always thinking about a girl he had never even spoken to. But it felt impossible not to do so as he saw you everywhere. At school, at the rodeos, at the general store that you worked at, he would even see you at church whenever his mother would drag him along with the rest of the Abbott clan.

It would only get worse when you started babysitting Amy a few years back.

There was a time when Amy was small enough to where she couldn’t properly learn to ride a horse yet, and the ranch work got so tough that all of the family would have to pitch in on the fields, even Rebecca. With Amy being too young, they had to have someone watch her while everyone else took care of the ranch. That was when you walked further into Rhett’s life.

He happened to be near the front door as he heard a knock early that morning. He was never told who was going to watch Amy; so, as he opened the door, the last person he expected to see was you. You were wearing an oversized sweater that was long enough to cover your hands to combat the chilly morning of the fall season, jeans, and an old pair of boots that he remembers you wearing throughout high school. He almost froze on the spot, taking you in as you stood on the porch. You look up at him, eyes illuminated by the porch light that was turned on as the sun has just barely risen. “W-what are you doin’ here?” he asked you, finally finding his voice.

You breathed out a small laugh, “Well good morning to you too, Rhett. Your mom and Rebecca asked me to watch Amy while you guys go take care of things, so here I am,” you said. You motioned a request to come in with your hand, he moved aside so quickly he almost trip on the carpet. You stepped inside, taking in the Abbott house. You’ve never been over, let alone inside of it.

“So, how’ve you been, Rhett? I’ve seen you at the rodeos, you’re doing pretty good,” you said as you walked around the living room. Rhett already felt his knees grow weak the second he saw you, but every time you say his name, he felt as if he could fall to his knees in an instant if he heard it one too many times. “You come to the rodeos?” He asked you; it took everything in him to keep his voice from giving away how nervous you made him. He felt as if he were a small child talking to their crush for the first time. “Only every one there is, got nothing else to do at night besides staying at home with a cat,” you laughed as you replied, looking over your shoulder at him as you made your way to the kitchen to meet Cecelia as she put on a pot of coffee.

You continued to watch over Amy for three months, after that you two became so close that she and Rebecca would make regular appearances at the General Store to visit you as you worked. It took one year of that for Amy to finally bring Rhett along. And a few short months after for Rhett to finally get the guts to ask you out.

Amy was over looking at the little toy dispensers at the front, searching in her pockets for a quarter or two. Rhett was with you at the register in the back, leaning against it as you cleaned up to close the store, it was a Sunday afternoon which normally meant to close up early around 5 o’clock. He volunteered to straighten up some papers, flyers, and other little things that lined themselves up at the counter. He looked over at you as you swept the floors. “So,” he started, already thinking that he should stop while he’s ahead to keep himself from embarrassment, “what are your plans this week?” You looked up from the floor as you swept the dirt into the dustpan, shrugging, “I’m not sure, mostly just work here and there. I’ll probably just stay home for a bit until this week’s rodeo.” You went over to the trashcan to empty the pan before putting the broom up. “Do you happen to have anything going on around, say Friday night?” he asked, his guts churning as if someone was trying to make butter out of his intestines.

You looked back at him after closing the maintenance closet, “Well, I think I just have a small shift here that morning, but I don’t think I have anything in mind that night. Why?” Rhett shifted his weight on his feet, looking down at the floor before finally looking up and into your eyes. “Well,” he started, “I was wonderin’, if you had nothing goin’ on that night, if you would want to go grab a drink with me? Just us,” Rhett could barely get his words out. You turn to full face him head on, “Just us?” you asked him. He nods at you almost too fast, too eager; he curses himself internally. “Y-yeah, just us two. You don’t have to, it was just a tho-”

“I would love to,” you said before he could finish. “Pick me up at 8:00?”

He froze in his spot; the best possible outcome has now become his worst fear. Last time he felt like this, he was on the back of a bull for the first time in his life. “Absolutely” he said, feeling a little more sure of himself. You gave him your signature, sweet smile, “fantastic, I’ll see you then!”

The two of you have been inseparable since then. Being with each other every night, out late until the two of you were forced to go back to your respected houses. Two months later, to now, you lay in the pasture. The sun was setting over the horizon, coating the field in a gold hue. It was days like these that you knew you would look back on when things got tough. Just the two of you, and the fields of the Abbott land.

You laid tucked into Rhett’s side with your head on his chest, one of his arms was around you, and the other behind his head which had his hat covering his face. His eyes shut as the two of you laid peacefully, bathing in the sunset. The both of you were laying down on an old blanket that Rhett kept in his truck for these days. The ones where you just enjoyed each other’s company under the fiery skies.

His truck was behind you by a couple of yards. The two of you had finished dinner with his folks just an hour before, your first time having dinner with them as Rhett’s girlfriend. The Abbots aren’t a dressy bunch, so you just wore boots, jeans, and a tank top covered by a flannel. Afterward, he has asked you if you wanted to take a drive and watch the sun set. You could never turn down such a request.

You turned your head slightly, almost shoving it into his neck, breathing in the slight scent of the cigarettes he smoked and the cologne he bought only because he thought you would prefer it. You don’t, but it does smell nice. His hold tightened around you, squeezing you into his chest as he shifted his head towards you. His hat raised just enough for his face to show as he looked down at you. You lifted your gaze up to look at him, into his eyes. His azure eyes shone with a brightness that you could feel almost as strongly as the sun ahead of you. A sea that you could dive in and never wish to return. Your eyes had never seen the ocean in real time before, but if you did, you knew it would rival the one in his. He looked at you, his nose touching yours just slightly. You could feel his breath on your lips, his body heat mixing with yours nearly overheating you in the chilly fall evening. As you stared into each other’s eyes, the heat grew more and more. The both of you could feel your want for each other, looking at your lips in contemplation. You tilted your head, silently asking for him to make a move. Answering your call, he slowly leaned down to you and pressed his lips against yours with you leaning up to meet him.

You two had shared kisses before; when he would come back from riding a bull, when he would get hurt doing so, when he dropped you off at home after a date, when you greeted him outside of the General Store after a work shift, and sometimes when you just felt like it. But this was different. Those were harmless, “I adore you”, “I’ll see you soon” kisses. This, this was full of want.

His hands roamed your body with such tenderness that you felt that if they were any lighter, it would be like he was never there.

Your hands brushed through his hair, knocking the hat further off of his head, combing through the dark blonde strands as your lips covered his in a loving, fiery kiss. The sun had set down a little further, the transition between summer and fall causing a chill through the air, causing you to lean further into his arms. The more this goes on, the more his hands grip your hips, almost forgetting to be gentle. You almost want him to.

He moves your leg over to shift over is hip, you’re almost laying on top of him at this point. His hand slides up to cup your ass as the other is wrapped around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as you moan into his mouth at the touch. He starts to kiss down you jaw to your neck, giving tiny nips at your throat. You gasp at the painful pleasure he gave you. He sits up, taking you with him and shifting you over into his lap completely, your thighs on the other sides of his hips. His arms are wrapped around your back, one hand up behind your neck, holding you in place gently, afraid of taking things too far without your say so. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in, your tongues dance in a battle for dominance. Your hands moved up around his neck, playing with the curls of his hair. His lips moved further down to your collar bone, moving the collar of your shirt down just enough to place his lips just under it to put a hickey where nobody but him can see it. When he was done, he put his hands back around you, and kissed up to right below your ear where you jaw ended. He quickly learned that you liked that as your moans got louder and began to slowly grind your hips into his. You started to feel him getting harder, you reach down to rub him through his jeans, but he stops you. His hands raised up and placed themselves on your back; you could feel his lips move against your ear as he whispered, “We can stop anytime you say, just give me the word. I don’t want you doing something you don’t want to, or something you regret.”

You leaned back to look him in his cerulean eyes, placing your forehead against his. “I could never regret anything with you, Rhett. I want everything with you, anything you can give me I will happily take and give anything in return. I want you”

His arms tightened around you, holding you impossibly close to him. Sliding them down to your hips. You moved along in the rhythm of his hands, fingers still lacing themselves through his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. A low rumble in his throat tells you to pull just a bit harder. He goes back to his previous quest to kissing your neck. You moan as he reaches the right spot that makes your eyes roll back. His hands squeeze your hips as you roll them into his. He sucks a hickey onto your collar bone as he removes the flannel off of your shoulders, down your arms, and lays it on the grass beside you. He raises your top to remove it as well, his lips going further down into your cleavage. He feels like he finally reached paradise, maybe he didn’t get up from the ground that the bull threw him in this past weekend like he thought he did. He’s just been resting until he found his way into his heaven.

As he cups your breasts, he pushes them together slightly to leave kisses down lower and lower. You remove your hands from his hair to reach back to remove our bra, revealing yourself to him.

“Was this your plan, Rhett? Take me out into a field, make me bare as you ravish me fully clothed?” you smirk at him, going to undo the buttons on his shirt. “Isn’t that every man’s dream?” he retorts back, leaning up to place his lips on yours again as he helps you take his shirt off. Your lips reconnect as your hands slide up his chest, feeling his scar on his left shoulder you often wonder how he got it; the best bet was a riding accident. Out of the many he has had over the years. Flush, chest to chest, the both of you feeling each other over and over until you believed that you had a map of each other in your brain to forever keep. He let out a low grown as you pulled his hair again. He grabbed a good hold on you, lifting himself onto his knees, taking you up with him as your legs wrapped around him fully. He leaned over and carefully placed you onto the ground, keeping himself hovering over you.

He looked down at you as you gazed up at him, his hair in his face, lips slightly swollen after the passionate kisses you had shared. He brought one of his hands up to move a few strands of hair from your face, getting lost in your eyes. “The things you do to me, and what I want to do to you,” he said softly, cupping your cheek. You tightened your legs around him, bringing his hips closer to yours as you locked him in. “What is it you want to do to me, Rhett?” you whispered so softly that he was surprised he could hear it. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, your nose, and then finally on your lips again. He then placed his lips next to your ear, “I want to do everything, I want to strip you bare in this field and have you close to me. I want to have you writhe under the sky while you scream my name, we’re so far that nobody could hear you for miles. I want to be inside of you, to feel you.” He moved his kisses down your neck, to your collar bone. “The warmth,” he kept moving down further to kiss each of your breasts and then travelled down the valley. “The wet,” he said as he reached the button on your pants, undoing it as he looked back up at you. “But most of all, I want to hear you beg.”

You helped him slide your jeans from your legs, his lips immediately attacking your inner thighs as they get out of his way and join the rest of your clothes. His hands rubbing up and down your legs; feeling the smooth skin as they wrap around his shoulders, locking him in as he kissed down your inner thighs. He slid his hands up to lay on the dip in your waist as his placed a kiss on your panties, teeth tugging at the fabric lightly. You could feel his breath against your skin, your legs tightened around him in anticipation, his hands tightened around your waist as they slide down to the elastic of your underwear. Hooking his fingers in the band, he began pulling them down as he nipped at your thighs before raising up to hover above you, looking into the depths of your eyes.

You laid bare before him in the grass field on his family’s land, the sun has gone down just enough for the sky to be a dark purple. Becoming dark but you could still see enough to see the loving lust in his eyes as he stared down at you. He brought a hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing lightly over your cheekbone before kissing your lips. He traveled the kisses down your body to land him self back down between your legs, finally making his way to where you’ve needed him.

Wrapping his hands around your thighs he pulled you to him; he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You shivered under his touch, your hands moving into his hair. He took his time, methodically moving from licking you to sucking slightly on the bundle of nerves that made you twitch at every stimulation. He closed his eyes and reveled in the taste of you, he could live off of you for the rest of his time here on earth and whatever lies afterwards. You moan loudly as he latched his lips around your clit; sucking and licking like his life depended on it. You pulled his hair as you felt your arousal grow tighter. “You taste so good, darlin’. Fuck, you taste so good,” he shifted one of his hands from your things and inserted a finger into you, going in and out, curling. It feels so different than when you do it. His hands, his fingers, are so much bigger than your small ones. Ever since you first saw them, your dreamed about how they would feel all over you, inside of you.

He went up to kiss your neck again, making his way up to your mouth. You moan into him, silencing your cries. “Let me hear you, baby. What do you want?” he says as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, his finger curling into your sweet spot, quickening his pace. “a..another f-finger” you respond, trying to keep focus as he shifts his thumb to rub your clit with the same pace as his fingers. “You wan’ me to add another finger? You want me to fuck you with my figers before stuffing you with my cock?” He rests his forehead to yours, his breath colliding with yours and in almost kiss. “P-please! Please let me cum!” you almost scream, Rhett laughs lowly as he slides another finger into your quivering cunt. He keeps increasing his pace as you feel yourself getting closer to your climax. Your leg begins to shake a bit as you cling to him, pulling his hair, sinking your nails into his arm. “I can feel you baby, cum for me, scream for me,” he kisses you one last time before reaching a hand to pull your hair slightly, not going too hard in case you don’t like it, but you love it. Your moans grew louder as you feel yourself cumming around his fingers, your cries echoing through the clearing. His fingers continue, but slow down slightly to ride you through your high. You shove your face into his neck, kissing it as you feel his fingers slow to a stop.

You pull your head from his neck, looking him in the face. He stares into your eyes as he slides his fingers out from you, bringing them to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He leans in to kiss you, you can taste yourself on him, his tongue. You bring your hang down, feeling him rock hard in his jeans. You help him undo his belt, pulling his cock out, feeling the precum on his tip. He moans at your touch, his grip on you tightens as you rub him. “I didn’t bring anything with me, this wasn’t my immediate plan,” he whispers to you, kissing you softly. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,” you whisper back. “So am I,” he kisses you again, running his fingers through your hair.

He disconnects your lips, raising himself to hover above you as he pumps himself a few times. He rubs his tip through your fold one, twice, before sliding himself into your slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You moan as he enters you, adjusting to his size. Once he’s in, he leans back down to you, giving you a second to really adjust to him. He kisses your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as your moans mix together. After a minute or two, he begins to move. Slowly rocking in and out of you as you cling to him. He laid kisses down your neck, grunting into you. His hips slowly gaining pace, you moan as you tighten your hold on him. Your hands gripping his shoulders, moving your hips with his. He places his hands on each side of your head, moving one to up your face. “F-faster…please,” you plead softly as you look up at him. He quickens his pace slightly, “need me to go faster? If you want me to do that, you need to speak to me clearly sweetheart,” he says down to you. You can barely think, it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone, especially someone like Rhett. “Please go faster, Rhett. Please”

He lowers himself down to you, his lips touching yours, but not kissing you. Holding you close he says, “say my name, call it out. Let everyone know who has you, who is doing this to you?” He quickens his pace, a hand in your hair and a hand holding your leg to him. “R-rhett! Fuck, Rhett!” you scream, your voice echoing through the field. You grab at his hair, pulling it as he slams into you. You hold each other as you move together. You felt the knot tighten once more, your moans growing louder. His moans grew with yours. He can feel you near your orgasm, his hand going to rub your clit. “Rhett” you started to beg, “cum for me, baby. I can feel you, please cum for me,” he says. You became undone before him, screaming his name into the air, holding him close to you as you shake under his touch. He follows you shortly after, grunting and moaning into your neck. He slows his hips down to ride the both of you through your highs.

You look up to the dark sky, seeing the constellations and the stars that surrounded the two of you. You could only hear your breaths along with the noises of the wildlife around you. The two of you felt so close to each other and the earth, one with nature.

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “This isn’t how I planned this, y’know? I was gonna take you out to somewhere nice, do it in an actual bed and not a blanket in a field,” he said softly. You laugh lightly at him, the sweet plan he had for such an intimate time in your relationship. “I don’t know,” you said, “this is pretty nice. A clear night sky, a small chill in the air combatting with body heat. I’d take this over a nice dinner any day.” He laughs with you, kissing you softly as you laid in each other’s arms. You knew that you needed to get up so that he could take you home before you fall asleep here. But you can’t bring yourself to get out of his arms or tell him different. For now, you lay in your peaceful little world to yourselves. The two of you forever, as it should be

people you might like to be tagged: @waytoomanyfandomss @fairyheart

[auroravictorium]

midnight rain (k.b.)

she was sunshine, i was midnight rain.

Summary: kaz and reader hunt down the person responsible for exposing their relationship to the dime lions, putting the reader at risk.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warnings: fighting, blood, guns, daggers, betrayal, very quick mention of drinking, minor cursing, poor proofreading lol sorry 

Genre: uhhhh primarily angst but there's some fluff at the end!

Author's Note: so i didn't mean for this to turn out as long as it did but... oops 😅 also i promise the next one will be fluffy!! i've been really loading on the angst, sorry. BUT I've got fluff in mind for the next few sooooo <3

grishaverse masterlist

"What do you think this is about?" you asked Inej quietly, trailing behind her as she led you up the stairs to Kaz's office in the Club. He'd summoned Jesper too, but he wanted to see you first, which couldn't be good. Getting called to his office while the Club was already open meant he was okay with risking kruge being stolen, fake, or not in his pockets. 

"I have no idea. Has he said anything to you?" Inej muttered back. She smoothed her hands down the front of her pants, ensuring her knives were in place. She was on edge, caught off guard by the sudden meeting.

You blushed, though nobody could see it in the dim hallway, and absentmindedly brushed your fingers over your collarbone, where the necklace Kaz had given you hid beneath your shirt. Inej wasn't a fool. She knew about you and Kaz and had been the first to notice the lingering glances between the two of you; then you'd nearly died, and well... "No."

Inej sighed, and you could tell it bothered her that there was information she didn't have.

When you arrived at the door at the end of the hall, tucked out of sight from nosy or drunk patrons, you found your fellow Crows standing outside. They were looking around at each other, waiting for someone to be the first to gather the courage to ask what was going on. As you joined them, you crossed your arms over your chest and clutched your elbows. The air was frosty from tension. Five pairs of eyes turned to you as you joined the semicircle around Kaz's door. You stood between Jesper and Nina and looked around at your friends.

"What?" you hissed. Your eyes flicked to the closed office door, then back to the group staring at you. Matthias looked away when your gaze met his, and Wylan cringed away from the door. Jesper suddenly became very interested in the shine of his boots, and Nina was intensely examining her cuticles.

Inej was the only one who spoke and met your gaze. "Knock when you're ready," she said softly. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your pants, mirroring Inej's nerves. When your palm brushed the dagger strapped to the outside of your thigh, you felt yourself calm slightly. Not that you would need a weapon against Kaz, but it was reassuring. You'd cheated death once. You could face an irritated Kaz.

"Saints be with you," Jesper mumbled, earning a shush from everyone but you. Wylan jabbed his elbow into Jesper's ribs, making Jesper wince. "Sorry."

"I don't think Saints will be enough," Nina whispered. 

"Not against the demjin himself," Matthias added under his breath.

If you weren't about to face an angry Kaz, you would have laughed at the sight of the Crows avoiding an office. All of you had faced death at least once, bore unsaintly amounts of trauma, and been through entirely too much in your relatively short lives. Yet all of you stood there, hoping that the saints could mitigate the wrath of Kaz Brekker.

Nobody moved a muscle, looking at you expectantly. A few thumps echoed from inside the office, sounding a lot like a cane hitting the ground as a certain demjin paced his office.

You definitely couldn't delay going in any longer. You moved toward the door, and the Crows scattered, disappearing down the hall and leaving you to whatever terrible news Kaz had summoned you to give.

You slipped inside the office and brushed your fingers over your necklace. "You wanted to see me?" you said, shutting the door behind you and lingering next to it.

Kaz was standing by the small, grimy window, reading over a piece of parchment for the thousandth time, judging by his mussed hair. He'd run his fingers through it so much that the hair stuck out every which way and flopped into his face. You longed to reach out and fix it but now wasn't the time.

You sat in the seat in front of his desk, waiting for him to address you. When he finished reading, he set it on the desk and slid it across to you. He jabbed the block of text with a gloved finger. "They know," he said flatly. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you took the letter to read for yourself. 

Amalia Nikolaeva entered the Emerald Palace at ten past midnight last night. She exited around ten minutes later, holding a bag of coins. She was heading toward Fifth Harbor, but we lost sight due to fog.

It was short, but it was damning. Your blood ran cold, and you looked up from the letter. "Why?" Amalia had been friendly to you while giving you your tattoo, and she'd given no indication of being willing to betray the Dregs. You didn't want it to make sense, but this was Ketterdam. Betrayal was commonplace, lurking around every corner. Amalia's actions made perfect sense. If the price was right...

"The information was too valuable to not hand over," Kaz said. He turned and paced back over to the window. He spun his cane in his hand. "I wanted to tell you before we left that I intend to kill her."

You nodded slowly. It made sense. Kaz had a special treatment reserved for double agents, and it wasn't pretty. He hadn't earned the name Dirtyhands by being kind. "When are we leaving?"

"You're staying here." He didn't turn as he said it, but you knew from his voice alone that he wanted it to be nonnegotiable. He didn't want you to argue. But you weren't good at not arguing when the person Kaz was out to get had practically sold you to the Dime Lions. Amalia had put a bounty of Saints knew how much on your head, and you weren't going to sit back and wait for Kaz and Jesper to return. This was your fight, too.

You stood. "No. I'm coming with you." You stared at Kaz's back, challenging him to fight you. Rage began to burn beneath your skin. It had been almost three years since you'd had to do dirty work like this, since you'd felt the need to do it, but that familiar ruthlessness was waking up within you again. It stirred, waiting to be called into action.

Kaz had recruited you because you weren't kind either. You were both willing to do what needed to be done, even if it meant cleaning blood out of your clothes at the end of the day.

Kaz exhaled, long and slow. He wanted to fight you on this. If he could, he'd tie you to a chair and make you stay there until he returned. But he knew this wasn't just his problem to solve. It affected you too. "If things go south, you leave the city," he finally said. "There's a boat to Ravka leaving Fifth Harbor at dawn."

"I won't do that." You wouldn't leave him to whatever fate this damned city would deal him.

He turned to face you, and his eyes lit up with unexpected fury. "Half the city is after you." Because you're associated with me, he silently added. And I was a fool to trust Amalia to not say anything about me going with you for your tattoo or keep that moment between us quiet. "Promise me."

The look on his face melted your willpower. He meant it. He wanted you to leave him if something went wrong. "Fine," you said softly. You hoped it wouldn't come to that; you didn't think you'd have the strength. "I will."

He nodded, and the ferocity in his eyes dimmed. "Where's Jesper?"

You dropped your voice to a whisper. "Listening at the door."

Kaz silently crossed the room, muttered something uncomplimentary, then opened the door. Jesper and Nina nearly toppled inside, and the rest turned away and pretended they weren't waiting up against the wall. "Jesper, shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" Kaz grumbled. "The rest of you should be downstairs."

The Crows erupted into murmurs and scattered again. Their footsteps thundered against the stairs as they disappeared back into the noise of the roaring laughter and clinking kruge in the gambling hall below.

Kaz shut the door again and looked at you. "Did you know they were listening?"

"Not until Jesper told Matthias to shut up," you answered, offering a tiny smile. You reached out and gently squeezed Kaz's hand. "It's not your fault."

Kaz squeezed your hand back and released it. He reached for his coat and pulled it on. "If that were true, you wouldn't be in danger."

"I knew the risk. I chose this, Kaz." How could you make him understand that he wasn't at fault for the Dime Lions knowing about you? The only person at fault was Amalia for choosing to turn her back on the Dregs and using your relationship with Kaz as means to do so. 

"You didn't choose the danger. You chose to stop running." He looked at you pointedly, and you remembered when he caught you in an alley nearly three years ago and offered you a place in the Dregs. He'd heard someone was robbing the rich within the Geldstraat and then taking the money back to the Barrel for the prostitutes and beggars on the streets. On rare occasions, you'd even maimed a few of the Geldstraat's richest residents as vengeance, primarily those who used and abused those within the Barrel.

"I chose to be with you and chose everything that comes with it," you shot back, stuffing your hands in your coat pockets. "I don't regret that."

Kaz saw the truth in your eyes, and he nodded his head slowly. He didn't quite know what to say to such an open confession. He wished he could do that so effortlessly.

So, he settled for what he did know how to say. "Are you ready to go?"

You nodded. You had a dagger on your thigh, two on your waist, and a gun in its holster, all underneath your coat. There were additional weapons within the coat itself, but those were merely insurance.

The two of you went downstairs to meet Jesper, and you took the back exit out of the Club. "No mourners," Kaz said, limping ahead of the two of you and gesturing to a carriage he'd already called. 

"No funerals," you and Jesper echoed.

The carriage took you up the East Stave and past Amalia's parlor next to the harbor. According to another report, she was hiding near the Fourth Harbor, hoping to sneak onto a ship bound for Ravka.

"Smart girl, but too late," Jesper muttered beside you, leaning his head against the carriage wall. Periodically, the wheels would hit a bump, and his head would hit the wall with a sharp smack. The sight of Jesper simply accepting the discomfort would have amused you if you weren't about to act on the searing vengeance underneath your skin. Instead, you were unusually calm and found yourself staring out the small carriage window during the ride.

Kaz threw a pouch of coins at the carriage driver when you came to a stop outside an alley that was disgusting by Ketterdam standards. It was grimy, and rats skittered in and out with bits of food in tow. Your need for revenge wavered as you imagined Amalia waiting in that alley for hours, hoping to stow away on a ship.

Then you remembered she sold you out to the Dime Lions, and that fury came right back to you.

You unsheathed your dagger as the three of you entered the alley. Jesper and Kaz took the first two doors, pounding on them and asking the occupants whether they'd seen a Grisha woman of Amalia's description. You moved further into the alley, slowly moving and peering around garbage, boxes, and crates.

You sensed movement to your right and whirled as Amalia leaped out from behind a large crate at you. You dodged, and she went stumbling toward the brick wall. She turned and went for you again, and you clashed with each other. She also had a dagger, and your blades scraped against each other as you tried to disarm the other. Sometime in the fight, her knuckles brushed your face, and pain seared across your cheekbone.

"What did you gain?" you hissed, knocking her back and shoving her toward the wall. You bared your dagger again and slashed it toward her in a wide arc. She ducked, and metal met the brick wall. You turned to keep up with her, not wanting a repeat of a blade between your ribs. "Was it worth the kruge?"

"There's no kruge," she snarled back. She cut the air with her blade, narrowly missing your chest. "Rollins gave me fakes." She dodged a fist you threw her way and launched herself at you. Both of you abandoned your blades in favor of your hands, and you were about to aim for her nose when shuffling came from your right.

The metal end of Kaz's cane struck her in the side of the head with nonlethal force, but hard enough to send her crumpling to the ground. Blood splattered across the gravel beneath you and the wall, and a gash opened on the side of her head. It seeped blood, and she lifted her fingers to it, trying to heal it with her powers. 

You knocked her arm to the side with your foot and stepped on her hand, making her scream in agony. Jesper appeared and pinned her other arm, holding his gun to her temple. She sobbed but stopped moving, accepting that she was vastly outnumbered.

Beside you, Kaz pressed the blunt end of his cane to her throat. "Why did you do it?" he asked coolly. You knew him well enough to detect the fiery anger in his voice. She'd injured you, and he didn't appreciate that. "I paid for your parlor and sent you clients."

"Not enough, not enough," she cried. "I needed more. To go home."

The cane against her throat pressed harder against her windpipe, and she coughed, trying to get air. "Is that so?"

You held up a hand, silencing Kaz as you peered at her tear-stained face. This was not the desperation of someone who just wanted to return home. It was more than that. She wasn't just trying to support herself. "Who are you trying to return to?"

She shook her head, displacing the cane against her throat. A bruise blossomed where it had once been, but she was powerless to heal it with her hands pinned. "I didn't want to," she croaked. "I didn't want to do it. I needed the money."

"She asked you a question," Kaz growled. His hand twitched, threatening to bring the cane down again, and Amalia flinched.

"A boy. My father sent me away because he didn't approve, but I swore I'd return." She sobbed again and let her eyes slip shut. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Saints forgive me."

"Move," you said softly, gesturing for Jesper to release her from gunpoint. He glanced up at you, unconvinced, but you nodded to confirm the order. Jesper holstered his weapon but kept her arm pinned beneath his knee. "Release her. Both of you."

The boys moved back but remained within striking and shooting distance. Unease rolled off them in waves, and Kaz twitched beside you, itching to follow through with his threat. You looked down at Amalia and took in how bruised and battered she was, all because she'd tried to get home. 

You had a choice. You could let Kaz kill her as he'd vowed to do, or you could let her go home. Nothing could remove the bounty she'd placed on your head except for your death or capture by the Dime Lions, but you could provide her with the means she needed to go home. You'd gain nothing but less weight on your conscience. In Ketterdam, that wasn't good enough. There always needed to be more, but for you...

You could nurture that small piece of good within you, protect it from the viciousness of Ketterdam. You would never be kind, nor could you take back the wounds left on her skin. But you could help her where everyone else hadn't.

You reached into the inner pocket of your coat for the pouch of kruge containing your last month's wages. "A ship leaves at dawn from Fifth Harbor, bound for Ravka. Tell them Dirtyhands sent you." You glanced at Kaz, begging him to agree. He didn't look pleased, but he nodded.

Amalia's eyes widened when she saw the pouch of kruge, but you recognized the doubt in them. 

"We have no tolerance for fake coin." You held out the purse to her. "It should be enough to get you wherever you need to be."

Shakily, Amalia sat up and took the money. Her eyes flicked between the three of you. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. 

You shook your head. You didn't want to hear apologies. "Don't. Make it worth it, and don't look back."

She opened the pouch and saw it was all genuine kruge. Slowly, she got to her feet and smoothed out her clothing. Her wounds started to heal, and then she pressed gentle fingers to your face. The bruise there disappeared, as did your growing headache.

Then, without a word, Amalia darted out of the alley and vanished.

"A moment, Jesper," Kaz murmured. He'd been remarkably silent through the whole exchange.

Jesper looked at you as if he didn't recognize you, then left without argument, stepping out of the alley to wait for you and Kaz.

The two of you were silent for a few long moments, looking down at the blood-splattered ground. Guilt gnawed at you. Amalia only wanted to return home to the boy she loved, and the three of you had attacked her. But she'd handed you to the Dime Lions first, and you still had to contend with that while she could escape the city. You weren't sure how to feel.

"That was too kind," Kaz finally said. "She deserved much worse."

You shook her head. "No, she didn't," you responded, then lapsed into silence again. You forced yourself to look away from the bloodstains on the ground.

"Ketterdam doesn't deserve someone like you." Kaz looked up at the cloudy sky, ready to drop rain over your heads at any moment. But still, there were a few patches where sunlight was trying to break through. You were a lot like that, he thought. Sunny and kinder than most in the city, trying to find the patches of good within him and Ketterdam. He was like the rain on a summer evening, washing away the good at every turn.

Kaz didn't add the rest of what he wanted to say. I don't either.

"You deserve more," you whispered, turning your face to the sky. You slipped your hand into his. You wished you could tell him again that you didn't blame him for the danger you were now in, but this wasn't the place. You settled for clasping his hand and lacing your fingers with his while the rest of Ketterdam continued on under the hazy sky.

He tapped your shoe with his cane in response, and it seemed to mean infinitely more now. More than just I'm here. Because you chose him and all of his faults, and you chose this city with its violence, greed, and corruption. Kaz kept your hand in his as he led you back out of the alley and into the carriage to go home, hoping it would tell you just how grateful he was that you were there.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: iii.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

If you thought that on December 8th you would get a break from Gojou Satoru in your life, you were very much so wrong.

At this hour, there isn't even an opportunity to even try meeting up with your friends. They're all in school, one without the luxury of giving students the day off when a birthday or two comes around. You really do have to hope and pray for an opportunity to hang out to fall into your lap. It was one of your few promises to yourself when you entered the world of fighting against curses rather than passively living with them.

Even if you were living out an otaku's dream of fighting evil, you wouldn't forget the normalcy you were leaving behind.

It's just a lot easier said than done now that you're no longer in it ー not that you truly ever were as someone born to see curses.

At the very least, though, if things had been a bit different, you could have at least spent the hours leading up to your birthday with your actual friends instead of the class menace. I don't even know why he's here, you grumble as you skulk forward through the crowd. There are so many things Gojou could be doing besides being in your vicinity.

He could have gone to an arcade.

He could have stayed in his room playing video games. No, instead he's here with you smack dab in the middle of town because it would have been too boring on his own otherwise. Can't he be bored somewhere else? You again wallow over the fact your friends are in school at this present moment before deciding that is likely a good thing. Gojou does not need to meet your personal circle of friends.

"I'm bored," Gojou whines, lazily trailing behind you. "What's the point of doing this if we already know they're throwing us a party?"

My thoughts exactly, you huff. You pointedly ignore the fact that you've been completely fine with the arrangement prior to it being your turn. Birthday party set up is a different ordeal. There's usually plenty to keep you both separated from one another. "Take it up with, Fujioka-sensei and Yaga-sensei," you sigh, as you try to find something that can make time go faster. Your stomach growls and you bite your bottom lip in irritation. I shouldn't have skipped breakfast. But in their haste to boot you and Gojou out of the dorms, you forgot to grab something.

Gojou you could understand. But why you?

He's the one who shakes boxes of presents even if they're his.

You're as a mild-mannered as they come.

"Screw walking around, we might as well just find somewhere to eat," you look over your shoulder at the boy and he shrugs back, fine with the change of plans. "I'm pretty sure there's a Johnny's somewhere close by." Even a hole-in-the-wall restaurant will do.

"What about over there?" Gojou nods his chin far at the first building that catches his eye.

"There?" You raise an incredulous brow, resting your hands on your hips. It's no Johnny's, it seems a bit more cutesy than that with its quaint brick walls and frosted windows. The Christmas decorations leave little to be desired. "I don't want to deal with Santa in my ear the whole time."

Gojou points over to the establishment again and you trail after his finger until he stops at a bright, cherry-red sign, "but there's a discount."

Discount?

Christmas Lovey-Dovey Special: Couple's Receive 50% Off!

You share a look for approximately three seconds before your hands are clasping one another with much enthusiasm as you practically skip to the restaurant in question. "You know, darling, you really do come up with the best ideas, sometimes," you beam, eyes practically sparkling. If there is one thing people love universally whether rich or poor, it's a damn discount. And if holding hands and acting lovey dovey with Gojou means getting half off on a random discount for breakfast, you'll fold faster than Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice.

"Only sometimes?" Gojou croons and you're sure he's fluttering his eyelashes. "I'm pretty sure you mean all the time, cupcake."

Don't push it, your eyes narrow.

You get a shit-eating grin in return. "Table for two please," Gojou holds up two fingers with his free hand as you approach the doors, just as a hostess passes by. "We're just celebrating our birthdays!"

"He's December 7th," you point over to Gojou with a dreamy sigh.

"She's December 9th," Gojou nudges you lightly with a grin. "We're soulmates, it's pretty much a sign we were born for each other. Celebrating on the 8th is a happy medium, right, honey?"

"Satoru, please," your grip on his hand tightens in warning as you chuckle sheepishly. You're being too extra, dumbass. Gojou grins despite that, squeezing back just as hard but twice as obnoxious. "You're embarrassing me. She doesn't want to hear all of that sappy stuff. Don't indulge him, he's just in a good mood because we're partying with our friends later."

The hostess, bless her heart, takes Gojou's excessiveness in stride. She definitely doesn't get paid enough to deal with your antics. "What a sweet coincidence," she smiles politely. "Follow me right this way," she says before leading you to a table not too far away by a window. She's tired of dealing with couples, you hold back a look of pity. May her shift almost be over.

Within seconds of looking at the menu, you already know what you want to order. "I'm getting the drunken udon," you tell Gojou unnecessarily. "And the grapefruit juice. It's got grapefruit chunks in it."

Gojou doesn't even attempt to hide his disgust. When it came to fruit, grapefruit is the only he hates the most. You weren't fond of grapefruit when you were younger, but in the past 6 months you developed a taste for it when you realized it was the one drink in the dorm fridge Gojou doesn't touch. It's not that bad once you get used to. "Right, I forgot you and Utahime hate sweets," Gojou clicks his tongue, unimpressed. "You have boring taste buds. At least look at the special menu before getting something this place serves all the time." He points at a sickeningly pink strawberry soda too large for one person and two heart-shaped straws. "We should get this one instead. And the waffles."

"I like sweets, I just don't wanna taste the diabetes when I consume it," you argue back. You even love strawberries. You just know that the amount of sugar in that drink is likely enough to put a caveman in a coma. There's sweet and then there's the unnatural abominations that Gojou eats on a regular. What's scarier is that his justification is that it helps fuel his brain power or something dumb like that. You're pretty sure he ripped the idea straight out of a manga and is hoping no one notices. "You drink most of it then if we get it. Talk shit about my udon all you want, I'm still ordering it."

"We're getting it," Gojou replies promptly, no room left for argument. Whatever, there's grapefruit juice back in the dorms.

I'm grabbing a water just in case then.

The water is a godsend five minutes later when you are able to confirm that the Lovers' Strawberry Cloud does, in fact, have enough sugar to put a caveman in a coma. One sip and you regretted all of your life choices that led you to this very moment. "You finish it," you mutter after gulping half of your icy water down.

He's so happy about it, you're sure this was planned from the start.

Thankfully, your food arrives not too long afterward. The only real hiccup about the customer service is the waiter giving you the wrong plates. "Here you go," his lips curled upwards gently as he placed Gojou's waffles by your hands. It's only when he tries to give your udon to Gojou that the birthday boy in question stopped the motion with a lazy hand.

"The waffles are mine, actually," Gojou deadpans, passing your plate in your direction with one hand. With a clumsy sputter, the issue is resolved in seconds and your respective meals are placed in front of the right person.

You grimace, holding back a gag of frustration when Gojou wastes no time is shoving his food down his throat. Ravenously as he eats, somehow his cheeks stay clear of sticky mess coating them. Of course, Gojou even eats pretty. You're a hater, but you can give credit where credit is due. Gojou Satoru is, objectively speaking, very pretty. To be honest, all of your classmates are hot. It's almost unfunny how there isn't one average person in their ranks, yourself included of course. Gojou is just the only classmate that's this annoying about it. It's such an insult that someone with such a shitty attitude is this pretty. Where's Utahime to rant and groan with when you need her?

When your stomach growls again, you shake your head. Eat first, hate later.

You relish the taste with an enthusiastic moan. Drunken udon is the absolute best.

"Give me a bite?"

You blink once,

twice.

"No," you look at the white-haired sorcerer like he's grown a second head. "Gojou, drunken udon has chili in it." And yet in spite of your explanation, the prodigal son of the Gojou Clan still leans over enthusiastically, mouth wide open expectantly. "Yeah, I'm not letting you eat this," you snort before taking another bite of your meal. The texture of the noodles and the bell paper, the blend of the chili and garlic. It really is heaven in every bite.

"Some girlfriend you are, you don't even care that I'm starving," apparently the lovey dovey waffle platter on the table means nothing to him. There's a pause and he must have glanced down at his plate because a moment later he added, "this means nothing."

You roll your eyes, "hey genius, a true girlfriend that cares about you won't let you eat something she knows you don't like."

"But [First]," he groans.

"Why do you even want this this, you can't even handle curry that's barely above mild!"

"You're making it look good!"

"Because it is," you reply like it's obvious. For anyone who likes spice, drunken udon is delicious. "Gojou, no," you barely stifle your snickers as you remember the day you were reminded that Gojou and spice weren't compatible in the slightest. All it took was one bite into a hot cheetoh he stole from a box of snacks your parents mailed to you for a small taste of home to send him into a coughing fit so bad you almost felt bad for the guy. "You can't handle the hot cheetohs my parents send. I really don't know what to tell you other than you are not built like that, please stop."

"First of all, I don't know what you're talking about," you shake your head with a sigh as the argument continues. How someone could be this persistent to eat something their stomach can't handle, you don't know. "And second, since then I've become a man." That was literally two weeks ago.

You shrug with a sigh, "if you really want it then." You did your part in warning him, the rest is on Gojou. With a whispered 'yes!' that was far too smug, Gojou opened his mouth expectantly once more and you finally relented in feeding him.

One second.

Two seconds-

That's all it takes before Gojou's face contorts in pain and displeasure.

"Geez, how you can eat this kind of stuff, you can't even taste it over the spice!" Wordlessly, you set down your chopsticks to pass over a napkin and watch as he spits the noodley mush into it. The amusement from watching Gojou fan his tongue and lips like they're on fire is indescribable. "Why would you let me eat this?!" If you were worried about sharing the much-too-sugary couple's drink beforehand, you don't anymore as your classmate makes quick work of ingesting it.

"You said your tastebuds had gotten stronger since the last time."

"And you trusted me?!" Gojou's sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose to show wide blue eyes in disbelief.

"I didn't," there are a few giggles from the table to your right and you have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from joining them. Your 'boyfriend' just looks at you in utter disbelief and betrayal, rambling on and on about his woes. "Oh stop being a baby, you spat it out so you'll be fine now. Here," you reach over to grab his fork, lifting a piece of whipped cream covered waffle with a thin slice of strawberry to boot. "Heal with the power of sugar." Grumbling all the while, your boyfriend of the hour clamped his mouth down on the goods. "Better?"

When you get another mumble but no complaints, you decide that's a 'yes' and go back to your own food. "Just try not to overdo it with the sweets. We still have cake and ice cream later." You love whipped cream on waffles as much as the next person, but the amount on Gojou's plate is unholy.

"This is better than the hellfire you call food anyway," your eyes roll but your mood is surprisingly at a high. Not even Gojou and his dramatics can spoil a meal, it seems. You also can't deny that knowing he won't be touching your udon the rest of your time there also lifts your spirits. "This is the perfect amount of sweet. The perfect amount of anything," your eyes dart between the whipped cream and your classmate, deadpan disbelief all over your face. "I'm serious. The strawberries aren't sweet so it all works out." When the disbelief doesn't leave your face, Gojou points his fork in your direction. "Try it."

Reluctant, you lean over to take a tentative bite. Oh.

You blink and make a noise of pleasant surprise. The tartness of the strawberries really balanced out the sweetness of the whipped cream. "Not bad," you lick the leftover whipped cream on your lips as Gojou continues gorging himself. From the corner of your eye, you see the people a table away giggling and whispering at your exchange.

You must be selling the couple's bit quite well.

"People in this country really make a big deal of indirect kisses," you say quietly enough for the two of you, returning to your own spicy goodness. "I didn't even know what they were when I moved here. I shared food and drinks like this all the time back home." Cousins, friends and other neighborhood kids that dance across your memories over the seasons from soda to ice cream to fruit. That came to a crashing halt when, during an after school heist at a burger joint, you nearly died drinking lychee soda and angled the straw for your friend Hide to try. Then everyone kept on making jokes about us being a thing and it started getting too awkward to hang around each other because he thought I had a crush on him. Food sharing politics were different from country to country, what a twist. "I guess that's a piece of culture shock no one ever really tells you about when you move to a new country."

Gojou shrugs at your nonchalant observations, "it's not a big deal for me. I just eat what I want."

"That's because you're a food thief."

Another shrug, a lack of denial. Details, details. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you continue eating.

This isn't so bad actually, you look out the window, watching as passersby make their own ways to their destinations. Living out their lives while you're some random extra eating drunken udon in a window.

To them, you're not [Full Name], you're just a random face they won't remember if they'll even see you in the first place. It's feelings like that fills you melancholy and fascination. No curses, no sorcerers and no Jujutsu Jesus. You wonder briefly if Gojou ever has such thoughts. To one part of the world he's the one who changed its very balance. To another part, he's just some guy. Just some random guy who happens to have a penchant for wearing sunglasses indoors. If it ever looms over his mind, you can't tell nor are you close enough you think he'd tell you. Maybe he tells Suguru or something. You see a flash of white and red in your peripheral vision and when you look, there's another mouthful of waffle in your face. This is such a weird combination of food, yet you take another bite anyway. You raise a few noodles of your own and mumble over a mouthful, "want another bite of mine?"

"Yeah no, I'm good," the white-haired sorcerer replies without missing any beats and you snicker. You wonder how much time will pass before he decides to test his luck with spice all over again. You have no doubt it won't take long.

A temporary truce between Gojou and the We Hate Gojou Alliance and on your birthday of all days. Well, almost your birthday. The small day set between you both to encapsulate both. Apparently, when his obnoxious levels and extreme lack of respect is dialed down to a 2, Gojou is a lot more tolerable than usual. Talk about a birthday surprise.

The rest of your lunch is eaten in relative silence but it isn't uncomfortable, you decide as you stuff yourself with a mixture of savory and sweet. Gojou tops off the last of the waffles with a satisfied with stretch of his arms before you split the bill. Good gods, I love a discount, you sigh in satisfaction as you finally make your way to leave. "We should probably start heading back to the school right?" It shouldn't take that long to set up a party. There's only one cake. "We probably have a few hours until they're done with the cake and setting up decorations."

"Might as well walk off all the calories so there's room for later," he shrugs and he's about to put his hands in his pocket before opting to grab your hand. "Let's go pet Hachiko or something."

Off to Shibuya you go then.

The grand finale of your pretending to be a couple is nothing special. You simply walk out the door, matching smiles on your faces as you pass by the staff.

When you finally exit the building, you shudder at the cold autumn wind that hit your face. Your hand tightens around Gojou's, clutching for warmth instinctively. Of course his hands are permanently warm. "What are you, a furnace?" Gojou grins smugly when you lift your intertwined hands, scrutinizing his with a squint somewhere between envy and curiosity. He has nice hands, you note. They're soft, but not so unbelievably soft you would think he was some civilian. His palms are a touch coarse, but nothing uncomfortable to hold, with no scars or blemishes to be seen. Must be the perk of utilizing Limitless at his leisure. "Why do you get to be blessed with warm hands?"

"Maybe the universe just likes me more," he replies with ease.

Considering his future is the one that's boring and yours is the one marked with death, that must truly be the case.

"Must be."

Happy Birthday to us.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

If you're wondering what you got for your birthday: Shoko and Utahime both tipped in to get you a Yamashita Tatsuro CD. Mei Mei just tossed over a gift card and called it a day. Suguru thoughtfully got you a book next in the line of a series you're fond of. And Gojou? Well, you got to be in his presence and it was actually tolerable. Congratulations?

[ms0milk]

𝟒 | 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame."

cw wrestling bkg to safety for 4k words, and so so much protective worry. fire-related injuries, incredibly brief reader panic sequence (overthinking). reader does not get to enjoy her first time seeing the ocean. someone is trying very hard to kill you (and doing very well) 4.6k

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Bakugou doesn’t much care for carriage rides. He gets nauseous easily tucked away in those glorified jewelry boxes and would always rather be on horseback. It’s been that way since he was little. It's too stuffy and he needs the fresh air.

Where is he now? Is he riding?

It feels like he’s being carried to bed by his father after a late party. It feels like he’s dying.

The ground whizzes rough underneath the pair of you and at the rate you’re driving this horse, all three of you will be dead before you can even make it inside the city walls. The prince’s hands are clammy when they reach out for nothing. You’re gasping, retching and dripping with blood.

“Highness– please– please hold on to me!”

It’s your fists wrapped in the sprinting horse’s mane, not his, and he thinks that’s strange. Bakugou is slipping out of consciousness against your back and you’re trying to figure out how one man alone could cause so much destruction.

The prince’s bloody hand tightens around your waist when he tries to pull back beside the campfire, but you hold him in place without moving. Does he know what’s coming? You level his sword to the danger ahead. 

“I know it’s you master,” the ghost sings from deep in the trees. His voice reverberates from every direction. Grass tips flicker with fire in a perimeter around the campsite. The chill of the naught-winter wind shivers through branches, bringing the voice closer and closer to the clearing like he’s lighter, faster than air.

A blue glow flickers between tree trunks and no one breathes when the apples beside you hiss, scream, and whither, and then bake into ash. Not a soul.

Kirishima looms across the clearing shielding his companions more successfully than you’re managing the prince, and Aizawa crouches in the carriage nearby with his bow drawn.

“How was Aldera?” That haunting voice hums again. The blue din is closer now.

The prince snaps, growling, and leaps out from behind you towards the treeline but you don’t need Shinsou’s bellowed warning to drop the sword and dive onto his back.

Another arrow whizzes under your arm as you tie your leg between Bakugou’s and use his momentum to smash you both, skidding, into the dirt. You land above him like this on your knees and it’s silent again. Shinsou and Sero watch back to back in horror as little fires dance through the trees in a circle around you.

You shouldn’t have let the caravan stop at the river today, you curse– you curse Aizawa– and curse the prince for the fight he’s putting up now trying to get you dislodged from his torso. Though, you wonder how he hasn’t gotten free yet, why he hasn’t turned you into a firework.

Furious shouts go up around you, but the prince, the only thing you need worry about is pressed to the ground between your thighs and his ashen hair clings to his forehead in a cold sweat. A sick sweat. His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame.

“Welcome home!”

Through the fire a slender black boot emerges over the treeline.

“Kids, run!”

In a flash Bakugou has the same idea as you and for a second ahead of the flames he’s no longer struggling in your grip. Shouts and the smell of burning hair scream to life around you and before the air becomes too hot to breath the prince tugs you into his chest, you grab the edge of his cape, and kick the campfire irons hard enough to roll the pair of you up in the thick red fabric amid the fire.

If you survive this night you won’t ever be able to return home and look your master in the eyes, let alone the queen. You’ll be stripped of your titles, your apprenticeship, your place in the castle, and you’ll deserve it. You’ll wander and no one will mourn you.

“Highness, up!” You shout into the tiny space between your bodies in this fireproof cocoon you’ve made; it isn’t just for show that Alderans are known as dragon tamers.

Your foreheads press together and the sweat slick makes it hard to move well. He’s cold. The fire outside whistles without much by way of kindling to stick to and you know you have to run before another wave erupts, “Up, now!”

Kirishima balances his friends in his arms and on his shoulders, and what parts of them he can’t cover are shielded by a viscous screen. Mina shouts your name from where she dangles around his neck when you throw the prince’s cape open, but she’s not fast enough to warn you. A man runs dark and lithe through the clearing in a zigzag that would be difficult to follow even if you were paying attention to more than the limp prince caged between your arms.

He isn’t rising with you, “Your Highness! Prince Bakugou!”

He groans, flushed, against the ground without any more wounds than the slice he got across his palm when he caught the arrow meant for you. He growls when you rip open his vested furs.

He must have been struck– his head? Is it a burn? You’re frantic on your knees beside him while you look from his twisted face to the blue hell around you and back down again, and try to picture your escape without ever stopping fully to process. Horses are screaming. The prince’s hissing melts into groans and he slips his elbow against the ground to sit up while you’re trying to locate a weapon– figure out why your halberd isn’t in its sheath on your back– try to locate the nobles and Aizawa and the Champion and–

You whip back around when Bakugou’s golden hand tugs at a piece of your hair, alight in blue flames and smothers it in his fist. He bares his teeth, “get…away.”

“Me or her?” The ghost whispers coolly from behind.

You gasp as his rough cheek brushes yours, and he muffles your snarl when you turn to strike him, with one horribly leathery hand. A hand that grips the edges of your face hard enough you think you’ll pop before you’re able to claw his fingers from the divots they’ve made of you.

He’s crouching now and his other hand comes up to pry your jaw open so you can’t bite off the two fingers that have found their way into your mouth.

Hats off to dying. Of all the things to fear in the world, closed spaces, big crowds, exams, introductions, the flu– dying like this is fear unimaginable. The man rots visibly in sections across his body, his face. He wears clothes like they’re gauze and steams from his horrible stitches. He also lets you go. 

More accurately, you are thrown from his grip before he can roast you alive when Master Aizawa flies through the man’s head with his knee. You’re knocked away rough against the ground from the impact. It’s so horrible you want to cry laughing at the fact Mina thought you might be a flame mage, that someone like you could wield magic like this, just three days ago.

“Y/n!” Aizawa seeths when he lands and charges immediately for a second attack against the mage before he can fully rebalance. There’s no new fire for now. He shouts over his shoulder to you, “Due east, Y/n! Get Bakugou to Takoba!”

Master Aizawa must sleep as much as he does to recover from fighting, because the man moves like a panther. Hair in his bloody eyes, bandages wrapped around his fists, he fights faster, strikes violently harder, than your eyes are able to keep track of. Two blows to the mage’s throat, one caught in a fist and the other landing just below a collarbone. Back handspring to dodge a knife and a flourish to ensure he lands facing his opponent. A sprint that turns into a double boot kick sending both him and his opponent crashing through the clearing.

In the second he gets from the distance, Master Aizawa pulls a canister from his belt and throws it into the air. With a hiss and a whistle, it bursts open and a single blue light screams straight up miles into the sky, into the stars, and out of sight leaving nothing but the bright glow above you.

“Get a horse!” He shouts again to you, dazed at the edge of the clearing, “The flare is an or–!” The scarred mage is up, noticeably free of fire, and charging the master. You’re pulling yourself together.

“It’s an order to open the city gates!”

In the center of the clearing, Bakugou wants to roar. If he could it would be loud enough to splinter the earth but something locks his sparks and his anger away. Kaminari cries out a little ways behind him, Sero and Kirishima are shouting instructions to each other, and no one seems to see him.

The prince, with great effort, rolls over. First onto his face and then with a white knuckled fist in the dirt, onto his forearms. With a trembling effort he pulls his legs underneath him and finally he swells up to a kneel. Something has lit every dry surface, every leaf, hair, scrap, and cloth, on fire. Blue fire. He would feel the peeling burns on his bare shoulders and back if he wasn’t so fucking cold.

To his right, Sero releases great lengths of ribbon into the trees whose canopies are lost to flame, “The fire will spread! Slow it down!” Kirishima tugs the ribbons hard enough to break trunks and to uproot dead saplings.

To his left, Kaminari is slouched against Mina’s chest in a singed tunic and blood smears stain their clothes in errant patterns. Shinsou’s close-by, freeing the last of the horses.

The carriage is a white wicker lantern, gone, gone, silver trim, chandeliers and all, up in smoke. Bakugou staggers to his feet when Shinsou lifts Kaminari’s limp body from Mina’s arms, but he doesn’t have a drop of strength left in him, let alone a spark, let alone a step or an arm to use to carry his injured friend out of the fire to safety. But you can.

You can do it. You finish shaking your brain straight after the impact and rip your horrible riding cloak off of your horrible tunic before the fire that’s eating it eats you up too. Aizawa’s a little ways ahead of you throwing punches and blocking kicks and keeping the flame mage from showering your group with any more fireballs, but he still let this happen and so did you, and you’re trembling with anger.

They’re safe with me. You snatch one of the mage’s arrows out of the ground from where it missed you and charge.

You have to get the prince out of here, you have to return to the queen in one piece so you can see her just one more time and then you’ll surrender to death, you promise the stars right now they can take you as long as you can go back home just one more time, I swear!

Not that you’re much of a bargaining chip now. It’ll just have to do. It has to be enough because the prince is stumbling blindly through flames ahead of you. From this distance he bends like a broken mirror in the heat waves and patches of fire crawl up his furs, barely upright.

You launch into the fight without your halberd or anything even resembling armor and land like a koala onto the flame mage’s back with only that little arrowhead in your fist to anchor you there.

When he shouts, you dig its point as deep into his shoulder as you can manage before the shaft snaps in your fist and you grab a fistfull of his hair to replace it. Aizawa balks when you kick off the mage’s back and send his head down with a yank as you fall to the ground in front of them. The second your feet tap the dirt you’re off.

You wish you had seen the mage take Aizawa down with him. So you could piece together the master’s magic before the mage crushed his head in the dirt to keep his eyes covered.

Bakugou is not going to stay upright for much longer. Without a destination he crumples back down to his knees. He wants to lay down and fly all at once but he’s simply slipping away backwards into the dirt. Before he falls flat into the flames you throw your legs out underneath you from a sprint and slide behind him to catch his body in your lap.

He’s drenched in a sickly sweat that reeks of burnt sugar and sour. His golden chest heaves with effort under your fingers. You cup his cheeks in your dirty hands. He looks angry unconscious and still there is no feeling like finally holding him safe in your arms. He could hate you all he wanted, fire you, banish you, execute you– no matter. He could burn holes through your armor with his ruby eyes and sear your skin with his magic, he could shout if he wanted to. He was permitted to strike you, challenge you, but you were not going to let the queen’s son die.

Mina’s voice is a surprise when she pushes your head down from behind and leaps out in front of you, “Duck!” She lands on her knees and waves her other arm in an arch between your bodies without a second to spare in blocking the incoming pillar of fire. A thick greengray wall spreads across the air like she’s painting it with a brush and flames burst to life around you, diverted by her shield. She whips her head back, “Are you okay?!”

These flames are weaker than before, and don’t singe you from proximity alone. You attempt to reply, but you are grappled first.

A rough hand snatches your waist from behind at the same time as the fires die down and Aizawa’s growls echo from the other side of the wall. The hand is Kirishima’s and he’s pulling you to your feet in the same fluid movement he makes to toss Bakugou over his shoulder.

He’s running, pulling you and speaking to you all at once over the sound of the burning forest, instructions maybe, leading you to a lone white horse at the edge of the trees. His pull on your wrist doesn’t keep you from reaching back for Mina, but she’s already running in another direction, towards Shinsou with a limp Kaminari in his arms in an all-dirt part of the clearing that can't lap up fire.

“Don’t stop!” She cries when she sees you, and disappears with her injured friend and the guard into another section of the forest past the clearing. You must be truly exhausted, because your feet aren’t on the ground anymore and you aren’t putting up a fight. Kirishima hoists you onto the horse’s bare back with more shouted instructions. Bakugou is tossed on next.

Kirishima does not look gentle anymore. With firelight illuminating his back, his cheeks are cracked. His hands are tearing and savage.

“Y/n!” He grabs your cheeks in one of those rough hands from below and keeps Bakugou upright on the horse with his other. He points to the sky and thrusts your face upward, and following his sharp finger you can trace the path of a blue flare going up in the distance between thick canopies.

“Takoba answered Aizawa’s call! The gates are open!”

On your other side, Sero uses Bakugou’s singed cape to tie the two of you together and wraps a length of his white ribbons around your chests for good measure.

“What about you?!”

“Only one horse, just go!” 

You don’t have the time to argue. With the prince in such a state on your shoulder you barely wait for Kirishima’s response before you’re digging your heels into the frantic white horse and wrapping your fists into her mane while she bolts, quickly far, far away through the trees towards her home.

Castle on the sea doesn’t even begin to describe the scene ahead when your horse bursts out of the forest.

Your breath only comes in wheezes now. Your bones aren’t broken but you’re not processing enough thought to feel them if they were. The prince’s face between your hands in the clearing– that’s what you’re processing. You don’t know what’s wrong. You don’t know where his injury is. You wish you were the horse racing your prince to safety so that you could do more than just cling to him with all the strength in your body to keep him from falling into the sand.

You have to take hold of his hand when it reaches again limply past you towards nothing and you try as hard as you can to wrap it into the horse’s mane like touching anything other than you will remind him that he’s alive, and to please just hold on.

You remember the little blond boy, your same age, sneaking off to the library in the middle of the night by the light of a single candle. And you sneaking behind him to peek at his magic from behind the cracked library door. He used to hunch over a different book every night at the great wooden table, books so big he had to carry them with both hands, and blow the candle out once he read his fill. Like clockwork, the second your eyes grew became comfortable in the dark his little sparkles trickled into focus, springing up from his fingertips in pinks and purples.

Bruises that same color bloom atop his thigh now, the thigh nestled behind yours. If you had talked to that little boy maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe he could have taught you magic before it was too late and he would trust you now to stand between him and danger. Bakugou groans against the back of your neck.

Takoba is not just a castle, it’s a city on the sea– on a hill– a mountain– a cliff. It’s a city your horse might not survive the climb to at the rate you’re driving it. Polished stone walls reach up over the buildings and homes inside effectively enough that the only thing you can see behind those protective walls is the white marble castle at the very top, craning up towards the stars in spires. There’s nothing at all behind the city– behind the castle– except for black water. 

You tug the prince's cape to keep him flush to your back against the waves of the horse’s gallop. It pulls his broad shoulders around yours and a mumbled curse drifts in his breath across your cheek. You’ve made a promise to every person you’ve spoken to in the past four days, and every single one has been to protect him.

There’s nothing but grass and sand between the edge of the forest and the beach, which means there’s nothing but distance between your horse and a Takoba hospital bed. A flash of red whips through the air in your periphery and if you looked back for a single second, you would watch smoke and the growing blue of fire in the forest not even a mile away. But you choose instead, to focus on the city gates coming into focus dead ahead.

Kirishima was right. In an arc at the center of the walls, the gates are open wide and lined with guards who are only dots in the distance now but become more and more detailed the closer your horse sprints to their post.

“Prince of Aldera!” You scream into the sea air to try and announce yourself before entering the city. The chain of guards in the gateway don't make a space for you to pass and so you call to them again. The prince’s full body shudders as you shout his title and when he tries to lift his head he only gets as far as your ear before his cheek is flat against your shoulder. You clutch a hand to his head to keep him close to you, “Aldera convoy! Clear the way!”

These guards don’t wear seafoam lace or shiny pearls. They don’t break formation and they raise their weapons straight ahead in warning. You think of Jeanist. You apologize to Jeanist.

“Y/n what would you say are the qualities of a diplomat?”

“Patient, sir.” Your voice was shaky because you were only seven years old when you had your first geography lesson.

“Anything else?”

This specific day you walked through the West Wing to pick peaches. So the sun shone warm over your cheeks and you were overconfident, sticky with juice. “Probably a little boring.”

Now you apologize to Jeanist again, for good measure. Because the closer you get to Takoba’s city gates, the more armed guards there are fortifying the line, shouting things that you can’t make out, and it’s obvious you are not cut out to be a diplomat.

“Aldera Royal Guard!” With one hand on the cape tying you together, you use the rest of your strength to lean deep and close to the thrusting neck of your horse and bring the prince forward with you. Through a mouth full of mane you bark, “Stand down!” and toy soldiers become fully grown not five-hundred feet uphill from you, two-hundred feet– fifty feet– and you apologize again to the queen, your companions, your master, this poor fucking horse– to the prince cradled in your hand you just say, stay.

With a final drive of your heels, the horse launches over the soldiers without slowing and clears the line with four echoing hooves crashed down on the cobblestone of the city square.

Only a few stray guards catch your last syllables, the white of a Takoba horse, and a glimpse of the prince’s blond hair shaggy against your back but it’s enough for a chorus of ‘don’t shoot!' to go up in their ranks. 

This horse is not going to stop until it reaches the edge of a cliff, so with one fist full of its mane and other full of the prince’s cape you drive through the sleepy square and up the main street to the castle sitting fat atop the hill.

Late-night straggling citizens drunkenly jump out of your war path into gutters and shopfaces. Horseshoes against cobblestone is a much better warning sound than you’d anticipated and you’d grin at your luck if Bakugou wasn’t very nearly flying to the ground from all your jerking ministrations. An arm wraps around your waist with a deep gasp in your ear as the prince clings to someone in a dream.

“Aldera Royalty! Stand clear!” Candles in the windows around you flicker on, “Clear the road!”

The royal castle is much more imposing up close, sprawling wide across the top of the city. A city, you realize now that you’re inside, so large you can’t actually see the walls farthest from you let alone the great black sea that extends forever in every direction behind it. All that matters is Takoba Royal Castle, dead ahead. Shelter for the prince and a new polearm for you to return to the forest to fight with.

Prince Bakugou’s forehead against your bare neck is so hot that the icy cold of his knuckles burns. He’s not muttering anymore, or gripping your tattered clothes as tight as he was just a second ago, so you call for a medic over and over before the castle gates come into view in the hopes that a doctor is waiting for you at the front doors.

You’re not even sure you could let go of him long enough for a doctor to take him now.

“Halt!”

You do not halt.

“Do not approach!”

You grind your thighs against warm white flank with every drop of strength in your body to prepare for the whiplash of this horse coming to a stop on the other side of the final obstacle between your prince and his hospital.

The castle gates are open like Aizawa’s flare instructed them to be and there’s nothing– sweet nothing– to destroy in order to get through. Your horse knows the way. She claps over cobblestones in a straight line to the entrance and bounds across the threshold of wrought iron.

The courtyard glistens white in the moonlight and the architecture on this side of the castle is delicate just like the blue fairy carriage. It is one great, smooth seashell with little windows for divots climbing all the way up to the spires. White balconies wind around outside to create footpaths in the free air and a grand rounded archway forms the frame for every door you can see. If you were closer you’d see too, the carvings on these archways and on every marble stone that builds the castle, depicting wars, births, deaths, and history.

But the second your horse slides to a jarring and terrible, screaming halt on the smooth marble driveway, a shock of arrows are released through the air over your heads and you remember again the might of a castle protecting its queen. You’re surprised by the numbness of your limbs when you try to raise your hands into the air. You feel as if you’re still moving in the sudden still. And shaking terribly. “My prince!” You can’t see where the arrows came from, or the bowmen and you don’t know where to direct your voice. Your horse trots and cries in place. The prince would be able to announce himself. His voice would carry like yours can’t.

“We have one hundred bowmen trained on your position, stranger. Dismount!”

You can’t, I can’t. You realize now just how much strength it took from your legs to keep your body and the prince's on horseback without a saddle. Your arms and hands too, tremble with fatigue. How do you tell them?

“Dismount!”

You have to explain yourself or keep Prince Bakugou safe from their archers. A girl in silver armor emerges from an illuminated archway to the right of the main doors and clicks her heels across the marble pavement. She is blunt, “Where did you get this horse?”

When she steps closer you can see her round cheeks clearly in the cold moonlight and the dark circles you must have caused her by throwing the city into high alert so late. You only need her to take Bakugou. You need a stretcher for the prince and a weapon to return to the forest with so your friends don’t fall to the flame mage alone.

“Aldera Guard,” you offer her, “please.”

When her eyes go wide with realization another soldier is already sprinting into the courtyard at full speed. He’s in a tunic, not armor and he shouts something as he approaches, but you can’t hear either of them very well now.

“Kacchan!”

The girl turns around and shouts something too, a sense of urgency lighting up her face when she registers the burns on your clothes. The prince tightens his hold around your stomach.

“Please,” you repeat and clutch his golden arm.

The next time you lean your head forward it’s because you’re slipping off of your horse, and when the armored guard races forward to catch you it only takes a touch because your body and prince’s begin to float just a little ways off the ground.

A surge of guards arrive on the scene upon hearing the calls for “medic!” and “fucking now!” and when the real flood of staff pours into the courtyard in all their soft nightclothes, it takes five of them to uncurl your fingers from the prince’s cape and it takes another three to unbunch the back of your blouse from his fist.

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[chiptaylorsfirst]

Don’t Forget Your Place

Word Count: 2,663

Pairing: dom!Loki x femboy!sub!Reader

Warning: Smut, sex toys, restraints, anal sex, masturbation

Summary: You decide to break one of Loki’s rules. He has to put you in your place once again.

You and Loki were dressing up for a party held at Stark’s Tower. You both were dressed in all black. Loki’s eyes raked over your form, a smile on his face. One of the things he loved about dating you was your style and the way that you dressed. You didn’t dress like the stereotype of males in their early twenties. You were different. The black crop top, choker, fishnets, painted nails, skirt, and boots proved that. “Ready?” “Mhm.” He took your hand and drove you to the location. You knew that you’d be here for a long time even after mostly everyone was gone. Everyone greeted the two of you when you walked in, providing compliments mostly towards you. 

You could tell a lot of people liked certain things about Loki. They just wouldn’t admit it because of what he’d done to New York. You didn’t understand why they couldn’t just forgive him and move on. He was mind controlled. It wasn’t like he fully did that by himself because you knew that Loki never did what he did, not with a clear mind. You stayed close to Loki for the majority of the party then went away to get a drink when you saw Thor approaching. “Brother,” he exclaimed. You could hear him from the bar and shook your head with amusement. “Hello.” You heard the voice of Nat and turned.

“Hey. Oh my goodness. That dress is the most beautiful thing. It fits you well.” Nat smiled, getting up to spin around. “I know right?” It was a red silk and lace dress with little black descents. Your eyes lingered a little too long on her figure and you prayed your boyfriend didn’t notice. You knew he’d freak out. Music started playing and everyone began to get up. “Wanna dance?” You looked over to Loki who’s eyes were already slightly dark from jealousy. “I think that Loki would mind.” Nat sighed. “Nonsense. You know he knows how much you love him.” You looked over at him again. “It’s just, he’s sensitive.”

You hoped that Loki hadn’t heard you. You knew he’d probably take it personally. You couldn’t really blame him though. The trauma that he went through was quite excessive. Natasha seemed desperate and you had no clue why until you turned and saw Bruce dancing with some random girl. You took Nat’s hand before finishing off your drink and took her to the dance floor. You couldn’t help yourself. Nat was your best friend. You placed your arms around her, allowing her to grind on you as she pleased. You knew Loki would be enraged but you could care less. 

Right now it was about her getting her sweet revenge and proving a point to Bruce. You looked across the room. Bruce looked pissed and so did Loki. “Is he looking,” she whispered, still facing forward. “Yep, he’s certainly looking. He looks like he’ll be turning green any second.” “Shit,” she cursed. She turned around, allowing your hands to wrap around her. “He’s about to come here,” she commented. You didn’t turn around but you felt a hand on your shoulder and by the person’s scent, you knew it wasn’t Bruce. It was Loki. “Pardon me but I need to speak with Y/N privately. It’ll only take a moment.” “Take all the time you need.”

Loki’s grip on your hand was firm as he walked into an empty hallway. “Have you forgotten your place or have you purposely done this?” You looked into his eyes. “Loki, you know I love you more than anything in the world and I’d never do anything to hurt you. She just needed someone to dance with so she could make Bruce jealous.” “Oh I see. So you decided this occasion was appropriate for you to break my rules. Tell the truth or I will spare you no mercy when we get home.” “Yes, Loki. I thought it’d be okay for me to do.” He shook his head and sighed. “Darling, you have no idea how well I’m going to break you.” Suddenly his lips were against yours and you reciprocated. The kiss was rough and lustful and Loki easily dominated it.

He tugged at your hair, making you moan as you became hot and bothered. He broke the kiss then cupped your chin before tilting it. He then whispered into your ear. “I want you to take your underwear off and give it to me before this party is over.” He placed a kiss on your head then walked away. You hated how easily he could get you worked up. You were now painfully hard, palming yourself through your skirt to get it to soften some. You ended up giving up once it was just halfway gone. You took off your underwear and found something to put it in. You made your way back to the party watching Nat and Bruce kiss before she pulled his tie. You watched everyone else and settled on the conclusion that they were either drunk or tipsy.

You looked for Loki, walking through different places before you found him sitting in a chair, watching Tony and Thor have a chugging competition. He sipped the drink in his glass. “I’m bored,” he stated. You gave him your underwear and he took it, magically putting it somewhere safe. He got up and grabbed your hand. “It was entertaining coming here to witness such crazed Midgardians getting drunk at your event. However, we’ll have to cut our time here short. We have more important things to tend to.” They both waved goodbye to the both of you. “Loki, slow down. I have to say goodbye to Nat and Wanda.” “No, you don’t. We can leave now.” You snatched your hand out of his grip. “Let me go say goodbye. It’s rude for me not to.” He sighed.

“Go ahead. You only have 5 minutes before I come to get you.” You easily saw Wanda, Vision, Bruce, and Nat talking to each other as a group. You quickly approached them and said goodbye. Wanda and Nat hugged you, saying that they would’ve loved you to stay a little bit longer. You only smiled and nodded before leaving with Loki. When you got in the car and he started to drive, it was very quiet. His face was serious and his eyes were almost black. “Was it fun?” You knew by the tone of his voice that it was a trick question. “Was what fun?” “Do you wish to be with Natasha or Wanda instead of me?” 

“No, Loki. They’re just my friends. You should know better than anyone that I only wish to be with you.” He placed his hand on your thigh, bringing his hand close to where you wanted it at the most. He stopped, letting his hand rest at your inner thigh, making it harder to contain your arousal. “Loki.” He smirked as he drove to your shared house. You were getting close. “Yes?” “Please don’t do me like this. I only meant well.” He sighed before making a right. “You and I both know that you want this from me and you’re going to enjoy every bit of it because you’re my personal little toy and you love pain.” You knew Loki was going to be the death of your sanity if nothing else. In a few more minutes, you were finally at your beautiful shared home. It felt like forever in your eyes.

You opened your doors and Loki locked them afterward. You went inside your house, locking the door behind you. Loki immediately picked you up, carrying your body to the couch. He placed you there then kissed you, lustfully and dominantly, just as he felt. He broke the kiss, removing your crop top from your body and throwing it onto the floor. “Go lie down in the bedroom. Make sure you’re on your knees with your legs spread as far as you can spread them.” You took of your boots then did as he asked, rushing to the bedroom and getting in the position he requested of you. After a few moments, you were greeted with Loki’s pale and unblemished naked body. Your eyes lingered on his cock longer than you’d expected but you couldn’t help it.

His cock was so pretty. “You see anything you like, pet?” You nodded your head in response, staying silent in fear of your voice cracking. He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking to your dresser, looking in a certain drawer. You already knew that whatever Loki was up to was gonna ruin you just as he said. Nothing he got from that drawer ever ensured you mercy. It meant that you were going to be taught a very time consuming lesson as to why you shouldn’t break Loki’s rules. He placed the items behind his back to make sure you stayed confused. You felt him crawl in bed, his body right behind yours. You halfway turned your head before Loki scolded you, telling you not to move. His hand pulled up your skirt until your flushed, hard cock was exposed.

“Hmm, sweetheart, looks like I have quite the effect on you. I would taste you but unfortunately you decided to be a bad boy.” You whimpered at his words, making him chuckle as he slipped a cock ring on you. “You’re such a pathetic little whore, aren’t you?” His hand wrapped around your length and he started jerking you off. “Mhmm, but only for you.” He placed hickies at your sweet spot, basking in the sound of your moans. You were already becoming a quivering, moaning mess from each touch that Loki provided you. “I’ll be back. Touch yourself while I’m gone. It’ll only be few.” “No,” you said, disappointment in your voice from the fact that you knew he wouldn’t let you cum. You worked yourself into a frenzy in the time being, stroking yourself at the perfect pace that you loved. You started to think about the ways Loki had sex with you.

You thought about the most recent time. Loki let you be in charge this time and did everything you asked. You smiled as he sunk down on you, facing forward. “If you want to cum, you’re doing all the work. You should be grateful I give you that much.” You heard him huff. “You do that again, and I’ll punish you. He didn’t respond, starting to bounce on your cock slowly. It was the best thing you ever felt. The warm that was around you and the tightness, the way that he’d clench when he was getting close. You remembered it vividly and too well. You looked down, watching pre cum oozing out from you and dripping onto your inner thigh. You didn’t know how long you’d been there without Loki, still following his instructions. 

Eventually, he was back, standing in the doorway and watching as your hand trembled and shook. You were struggling and he loved it. After a few minutes, when he decided you’d been through enough torture for that particular activity, he walked to you. “I can tell that you’ve been good and did as I asked. You’re learning.” He removed the cock ring and your hand from your nether regions. “You don’t need those anymore. Since you’ve been such a good boy for me, I’m going to give you just one more punishment and then you’ll have me, understood?” “Yes.” He smiled then walked to the drawer, taking anal beads out from it. You didn’t know why you’d felt so nervous.

Loki made sure that your body stayed prepped for this sort of thing whenever you had your sexual sessions. There was never a bad incident that happened during this. You were just scared. From a different drawer, he took out a dark emerald tie. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain anything that I’m going to do to you at this moment, do I?” “No, Loki. Could you please get this over with, please?” You did your best to say it in the sweetest tone that you could. “Fine, dearest.” You watched the concentrated expression on his face as he tied your hands to the bedpost. He reached for some lube, spreading it out on one of his fingers before lifting up your skirt. He then tore your fishnets open to show your pretty little hole. He fingered you, loving your little moans.

He made sure you were prepared before slipping the toy inside of you. A soft moan escaped from your lips at the feeling. Loki continued, watching as you took in each one. When he finally had enough of watching you, he placed it on the drawer. He put some lube on two of his fingers this time, putting them in you knuckle deep to spread you out nicely. He put the lube away then crawled in the bed on top of you. “You get to cum only when I say. If you cum before my directions, I will leave you here tied up and you’ll probably have to use the bed if you’re so pathetically desperate. Is that clear?” 

He lifted your body up some before sliding himself in then bottoming out just to do it forcefully. His hand rested on your chest, toying with your sensitive nipples as the other held one of your thighs, making sure you were spread open. “Fuck, Loki. Mmm.” The moans you let out were beyond pornographic and you knew your next door neighbors were hearing a free earful. “Say it again, my sweet. Let everyone hear.” “Loki!” He placed a kiss under your jawline, moving his hand to your wrists. He was going to be patient but he needed you to touch him. He skillfully untied your wrists with one hand, throwing the tie onto the ground. You took this as your chance to put your arms around him, keeping him close to you.His face was buried in your neck as you continued fucking deep into you, hitting your prostate with every thrust. 

You were trembling under his touch and you were dangerously close to cumming. You knew that you had to hold off your orgasm until he gave you permission. You could feel him grinning against your skin as you twitched, your tight hole clenching around him. “Come for me, pet. Let it all out now.” You did just that, moaning at the top of your lungs and watching as your cum spilled out from you. Loki slowed his pace, gently pounding into you until you came down from your high. You felt his warm cum fill you, making a soft moan fall from your lips. 

He pulled out from you and kissed your cheek. “I’ll be back, I promise.” You looked up at him. “No, don’t leave.” “But I have to clean you,” he argued. “Use your magic.” Loki sighed before cleaning the two of you with a flick of his wrist and a shimmer of green. He had enjoyed actually cleaning you up without magic. It gave him some sort of comfort to take care of you in such a vulnerable state. But he also loved when you got clingy like this after sex. You pulled him near you, taking him away from his thoughts. “I’m cold. Hold me please.” He smiled. He couldn’t help it. You were so adorable when you weren't breaking his rules. He wrapped his arms around you, warming you up from his body heat. “Do you think it was worth it,” he asked. “From the way that you fucked me, I’ll say so. I should probably send Wanda a thank you card.” His fingers ran through your hair. “Don’t do it again or I won’t be as gentle.” You smirked as you looked at him. “What are you gonna do, Loki? Make me?” Loki's eyes darkened and you knew there was going to be another fun round.

[hangmanbrainrot]

just anything with Jake as a dad!

I generally just love the idea of dad(ddy)!Jake, so this was such a fun lil’ thing to write. Sorry it took so long!

Drabble below the cut!

warnings: excessive fluff, cursing, brief mention of pregnancy, reader has a child, brief mention of deployment & time apart word count: 730 pairing: jake seresin x afab!reader

snow day

The first thing you heard was shrieking laughter, coming from downstairs. You rolled over in bed and took a peek at the alarm clock. 10:03 AM. And your daughter was… laughing, downstairs. On a Tuesday morning. God, you felt sick. How on earth had you slept through your alarm? You swore you set it and your backup and your backup backup. Darting up out of bed, you shoved your feet into winter boots and decided your sweatpants and borrowed t-shirt (Jake’s) would have to do for school drop off. It was bad enough you were late and would have to venture inside to sign her in. Hopefully there would be a different admin at the desk than the last time this happened. It was harder when Jake was away, but you hated sounding like you were looking for pity. You knew what you signed up for when you married him. Time apart came with the deal. Even now, even when you wished you could sleep in, and someone else could get your kid ready for school. But Jake was away, and not due back for another two weeks. Just two more weeks.

So, naturally, when you ventured downstairs and someone was in your kitchen, you let out a blood-curdling scream.

The form turned to reveal your husband — because, of course it was, who else could it have been? You became a light sleeper 5 years ago, you darted awake the moment something in your home didn’t sound right. So, of course your body hadn’t alerted you to Jake’s arrival, your natural defense system on standby because it’s Jake. It’s Jake. 

His green eyes swept over you with worry and concern as you approached, while your daughter, currently coiled around his torso, gazed with amusement out the window. 

“Look, Mommy, snow day!” she chirped, just at the right moment. 

“Yeah, Mommy, snow day,” Jake chimed in, a grin lifting the corners of his lips as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “Welcome home.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” you retorted sourly, leaning your now kissed forehead against his chest.

He laughed gruffly and freed an arm to wrap around your shoulders. “Surprise.”

“What are you two up to? And when did you get in?”

“A few hours ago. I came in and said hello, do you really not remember?”

“Must’ve thought I was dreaming,” you muttered, a flush creeping up your neck. 

“Daddy, the pancakes,” your daughter said almost conspiratorially from her perch on Jake’s hip.

“Shit.”

“Ooh, daddy said a bad word,” she remarked with a giddy laugh as he set her down onto the counter. You were sure her father would deposit a quarter in her pink piggy bank later.

After a moment of two of artful flipping, Jake whirled back around to face you with a bright smile, and it was then that you realized he hadn’t changed since coming home. Just came right upstairs to you and your daughter, and decided a snow day meant pancakes for breakfast.

“Breakfast is both saved and served!” he remarked, clearly feeling self-satisfied. 

As the three of you sat down for breakfast, your daughter filled Jake in on how her first few months at school had gone with startling though sometimes exaggerated detail. He littered her with follow-up questions like a daytime tv show host, and there wasn’t a single ounce of playfulness in his tone. He regarded every single second of every single story she told as the most precious, most important thing he’d heard so far today. Because it was. 

When you’d found out you were pregnant, he was preparing to leave again. You’d been married just weeks prior. It was so early it was still dark outside, but he’d promised you in the low light of your bedroom, still littered with moving boxes, that his free time was yours. Whispering, and sounding like he was on the verge of tears, “I know I’m gone a lot, but I promise to be present when I’m here. I promise I’ll be with you, in every way I can, whenever I can.”

And now, as you watched your husband absolutely dote on your daughter, you were more assured than ever that he was keeping his word.

[funfetticandle]

Hi :)

Can You do a headcanon of the rise boys with a crush (reader) that has ink powers? Like bendy and the ink machine, she can sumond ink monsters, make ink portals and turn into ink.

Is ok if you don't want to 😅

hi anon! tysm for the request! i’ve actually been watching a ton of play throughs of The Dark Revival and some of BATIM, so this was interesting! it’s funny, i actually had an idea similar to this a few days ago, so i had some ideas already stored in mind :)

again, almost none of my work is proofread, nor edited, so pls ignore if some parts don’t make sense 😭

Who: Rise! Tmnt x Fem! Ink Manipulator! Reader (Romantic)

What: Hcs of the boys and their reactions to seeing you display your powers

When: not mentioned in story

Warnings: as usual, cursing, mentions of getting hurt, reader just absolutely obliterates enemies while the turtles are just :o in the background lmao

As Smooth as Ink

Leonardo

you were currently crouched behind a stand at Albearto Land, your breathing heavy as you listened to the boots of the wolf mutants clomp against the soil on the other side.

leo was in the stand beside you, practically swimming in the stuffed prizes as he lowered his head into the pink flamingos and dolphins.

you and him were just supposed to have fun and spend time together at the amusement park, but of course someone had to get bitten by an oozesquito to crash it

you snapped your head up to glare at leo, who had let out a breathy cough as he inhaled the fluffy fur of the plushies

unfortunately for you and him, the mutants had heard it too

one of them paused, sticking its snout up in the air before grinning

it whipped its powerful tail against your stall, knocking over the targets it had on display

you cursed as you slid out into plain sight, on your back as leo slowly lowered himself into the pile again, fighting the urge to jump out and help you

getting up slowly, you glared at the pair of mutants as your fingers twitched

you summoned a huge wave of ink behind you, the black liquid seemingly seeping from the ground into the air

leo’s expression was pure 🗿

as you beat the absolute shit out of the mutants, he was just watching in fascination from his hiding spot

would never admit it, but he was also kind of scared 💀

could you blame him though, you just demolished a pair of buff mutants from the flick of your hand

once the mutants were well unconscious, he just crept out of the basket of toys and stared

“What?”

“how did you— summon those.. ink monster thingys?”

“don’t ask.”

“ok-” 😰

overall, he’s scared for life but also even more in love with you (simp-)

Donatello

you and him had been chased by the Foot, and were now catching your breath as you pressed your back against the wall of an alleyway

he was on the roof on top of you, motioning for you to grab his hand and escape

just as you were about to do so, you heard heavy footsteps coming from the outside of alley, causing you to dart back in your hiding place

donnie lowered his head out of sight as a Foot recruit wandered the sidewalks, their head darting around looking for their targets

they narrowed their eyes as they stalked into the alleyway, suspicious

you cursed as you heard them coming closer to your hiding spot

and since your own version of fight or flight senses had kicked in, you clenched your eyes shut and melted into a measly pile of ink on the floor, blending in with the shadow

donnie’s eyes widened with interest. you had told him about your abilities before, but he had never thought he’d actually see it

as the Foot recruit gave up, walking back out into the streetlight, you swirled back up into your normal self, breathing heavy as donnie jumped down

he’s really, really interested by your powers. he’s always wondering new things about them, like how your bones suddenly disappear as you shift, and how your control over the ink monsters can waver

overall, he’s intrigued to say the least. oh, and that crush on you? times that by a million now.

Michelangelo

ok i’m getting kind of wrung out of writing all the fight scenes so this one isn’t gonna be as intense lol

you and mikey were in the lair, currently bickering over where to eat

so, you two made a bet— whoever won hide and seek got to choose where to dine

unfortunately for you, mikey is a fucking MASTER and hide and seek

hiding and seeking, he is a god at

after about 10 minutes of you looking for him, you managed to find a flash of orange in the corner of the room, quickly but quietly shuffling away to another hiding spot

you raised a brow. you hadn’t known he could move spots, so technically, he was cheating

you grinned. how about you cheat too?

you quickly made and ink portal below you, sinking into the smooth black surface

mikey peeked his head out from behind the ramp in confusion. where had you gone-?

“boo.”

he shrieked as he whipped around, rolling his eyes at your laughing form, dripping with ink

“Hey! i thought we agreed no powers! that’s cheating!”

“technically, you cheated too, dude. you never said we could move spots.”

you still let him pick even though you won, but shh-

anyways, your ink powers never bother him at all

he sometimes gives you a canvas to splash ink on, and then he’d add on to it to make it a painting

it’s quite fun, if he does say so himself

the one thing he finds the most cool is the ink monsters. you look so badass forming these things, who are completely under your control, and he admires it so much

often will whisper to his brothers when you are in combat about how cool you are lol

“that’s my future girlfriend right there, you see her?” “yes, angelo, we all see her-”

overall, finds it completely badass and admires you from afar.

Raphael

you guys were chilling in the lair, with you slouched on a bean bag and raph helping mikey renovate his room

you didn’t know why, but for some reason raph had volunteered to move all of mikey’s art supplies

of course, bc of his big hands, he managed to drop the most fragile thing— the bottles of ink mikey used for calligraphy

he was panicking, looking around when he saw you giggling in the corner

“don’t worry big guy, i got you,” you said, raising a hand

he watched, mesmerized as you quickly waved the ink back into their bottles, a content look on your face as your gaze followed the slow flow of the ink

um WOWZERS OKAY

he immediately thanks you afterwards, collecting the bottles quickly as he hurries away

as you start to display your powers more and more, he falls more and more in love

you bet your sweet ass he gets emotionally attached to at least one of your ink monsters. like, have you seen that one episode where he befriends that paper ninja?? he has an unhealthy habit with being buddies with supposedly evil ppl lol

prolly names it too, just for added measure

as for ur ability to turn into ink, he got scared of it one time lmao

you guys were in the middle of a fight with the Foot, and you got hit really hard so you instinctively melted down into a puddle so they couldn’t beat you anymore

this sweet boy was freaked the fuck out bc he literally just watched you MELT INTO A PILE OF BLACK GOO

it’s all good though, he recovered as soon as he saw your figure rise out of the puddle again

overall, finds your powers cool, but pls, give him a warning the next time you decide to turn into ink?? nearly gave my boy a heart attack-

a/n: sorry for the delay!

[immajustvibehere]

i dunno if someone already suggested this but!!!

❛ i could do with a warm body next to me.❜

(female reader if is possible please!!)

A One Time Thing

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

oneshot: fluff, tiny bit suggestive

summary: Your new horse throws you off, right into a damn river. Luckily, Arthur is by your side to warm you up.

2100 words, 11 minutes reading time

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to take your new horse to an excursion with Arthur. You have had a bad feeling about it, that's for sure, but you hadn't expected it to go this badly. It was difficult keeping up with Arthur, almost impossible to convince your horse into a consistent pace. Every rustling of leaves, or snake in eye shot scared the shit out of it. You have had three close calls of being thrown off in merely an hour. Your patience was running thin and you swore that you'd dismount any minute. If it wasn't for Arthur.

He was having a splendid time, watching you struggle. He teased the shit out of you. "Thought ya could ride?" "Have ya grown incompetent over night?" "I could ride better than that when I was Jack's age!" You'd heard a couple of very creative insults since you left the camp. The first few times you shot back, later you only gave him a bitter smile everytime he made a comment. Nevertheless, when you had long lost your patience, Arthur was still very calm about the riding situation. He'd wait patiently for you to catch up if you fell behind or speed up without any complaint if your horse was out of control and darted ahead. When you couldn't stir it into the right direction, Arthur would help by shooing it or blocking the way with his own horse. The teasings stopped eventually and he'd only ask you if you were okay when it reared up and you had to hold on with your dear life.

For the last ten minutes, everything was going fine. If you continued to travel with this speed, you'd be in Valentine shortly after sunset. It was quiet, only the Dakota River gurgled. You were about to cross it. Maybe you had let your guard down too much, you blinked and the next thing you realized was that you were flying through the air. With a splash that had Arthur pull his horse to an immediate stop, you found yourself plunged in the river. As you sat up you didn't know if you should be grateful that the water was deep enough to brake your fall without having your head split open on a stone or if you should curse it for the same reason, seeing that you were soaked from head to toe.

The first thing you saw after you helplessly scrambled to your feet was your horse, suspiciosuly calm as if it were sorry, standing next to Arthur's mare. Arthur remained seated on his horse, a wide, silly smile on his face. As you locked eyes, you were close to tears of frustration, just as much as Arthur was close to breaking out into laughter.

"Come on, y/n. Could have been worse. Could have been pierced on a stick or yer brain all splattered on a rock", Arthur tried to cheer you up.

"I guess", you sighed, climbing onto your horse once again. As you swunng your leg around the horse's back, water ran out of your pants like you had turned into a waterfall. The wet clothes stuck to your skin and you already started shivering. Summer meant nothing so close to the Grizzlies. The wind which you had barely felt before made every hair on your body stand up.

"We'll set up a camp nearby, get ya warmed up at the fire", Arthur suggested. He led the way, out of the river and off the track until he had found a nice spot for a camp. You were glad he hurried, because your teeths had started clattering and you lost the feeling in your toes, which were swimming in your soaked boots.

"This'll do", Arthur dismounted and quickly took a blanket off his horse, "get out of those clothes before ya turn all blue." You mumbled a thanks that was drowned by the clatter of your teeth. You hid behind a bush, struggling to get out of the clothes while violently shivering. The few seconds you stood stark naked in nature, before you wrapped the blanket tightly around you, didn't help either. You returned with the pile of wet clothes in one, and your boots in the other hand at the fire, somehow still managing to keep the blanket around you. You would have murdered for a hot bath.

The fire was still small, though Arthur was showing his skill in getting a decent campfire started. When flames grew bigger you felt the warmth on your frozen limbs. "I don't know if I ever want to sit on this horse again", you mumbled. Your teeths were still restless and your body still shaking. Arthur squated next to the fire, putting on a kettle with coffee. "It seemed sorry to've thrown ya off", he smiled, looking at you shortly before he decided you were not even closely enough dressed to make it appropriate to look. As you settled down Arthur went to get another blanket from your horse. You had decided to not go near it for now.

"Yeah, well...should've thought about it sooner. Why did it rear up anyway?", you asked, receiving the second blanket.

"Not sure. Maybe there was a wolf or bear nearby."

You grunted as answer. One blanket was wrapped around your lower body, it only reached to your ankles though. Your feet were still cold, despite having them as close to the fire as you dared. The sencond blanket was wrapped around your shoulders, your hands somewhere hidden underneath, gripping ends of the blanket to prevent if from slipping of. Your hair was still wet and clung to your forehead and neck. It was brutal with the wind. Arthur couldn't stand sitting down at the fire, because this meant looking at you - and he just couldn't do that. He wasn't sure what it was, but knowing there was nothing underneath the blankets but your bare body made him seek distraction quickly and urgently.

"Yer real unlucky...", Arthur said as he took the canvas from his horse. You knew exactly what he meant. Before you left camp, you both had decided to travel lightly, no spare clothes, no winter coats, nothing but your bedrolls, the blankets and a thin canvas that could serve as a tent in an emergency, you hadn't thought you'd have to use it.

"Oh, trust me: I know", you answered. There was a smile on your face that Arthur couldn't see, since his back was towards you as he set up the tent. You were cold and had a rough day on horseback, that was for sure. All your clothes were wet and you'd have to spend the night naked, wrapped in blankets. But you were also spending time with your all time favourite man...your best friend, so to say. You had known Arthur for years and you had grown comfortable around each other. If you could avoid it, you would never tell him that you have had a crush on him for the longest of times. You had never said and would never say something because you knew it was more complicated than that. You knew about Mary and that she had started to contact Arthur again and...yeah. A sigh escaped your lips as your thoughts ran wild.

Still, there was this little spark of hope that maybe, just maybe...

"Y/n", Arthur called you so you'd notice the hot cup of coffee he's dangling in front of your face.

"Sorry - thanks Arthur", you took it, almost burning your hand. You brushed Arthur's hand very briefly. It's not like this was unusual, not like you had never shaken hands before or tended to each other wounds if necessary. He probably didn't know that you held those memories dear, probably remembering every little affectionate attention he'd ever shown you. "Well, you got some nice warm hands, Mister", you wailed pitifully, looking up to Arthur.

He scoffed: "I didn't decide to go swimmin' in a freezing river." You smiled gently, the way he looked at you had you melting. Of course he was teasing again, but his gaze was gentle and caring. He didn't like seeing you shivering, you could tell.

"Would you...", you blushed at the thing you were about to ask for, "put your hand on my back." You saw Arthur's face freeze. It was as if he had stopped working for a few seconds, before he awkwardly looked around as if there was anyone close. "What?", he sheepishly asked. "Your hand. On my back", you repeated, finding pleasure in seeing Arthur so helpless, "I got it turned away from the fire. It's not warming up." "Well then turn around so it is towards the fire!?", Arthur wildly suggesting, too shy to simply comply. "'Course, but then the other side of my body is turned away from the fire. I mean - if you want to hold and warm that with your hand instead, be my guest!", you grinned cheekily.

Arthur took his place next to you, mumbling something under his breath which sounded like "god damn" and "tease". You maybe dropped the blanket from your shoulders a bit more than necessary, definitely more than Arthur would be able to cover with one hand, and the cold air sent a violent shiver through your whole body. This was instantly rewarded with a warm hand on your skin though. Your sigh of relief made Arthur stiffen up next to you, but you sipped your coffee in peace, finding comfort in his body warmth.

You sat for a while in silence before you exchanged some thoughts about the journey. With every opportunity, you shuffled a bit closer. You loved Arthur's smell and warmth that radiated from his body. This was your opportunity to get a closer to him. It was already rare to get him alone and away from camp; but this evening was different.

"Thank you", you mumbled after a while. Your head and arms rested on your knees, as your eyes were getting heavier and the night darker.

"For what?"

"The hand."

"Sure", Arthur cleared his throat. At first, his hand had remained still, but after a while Arthur had started to move it. His thumb was never restless but always caressing your skind gently. Also, the hand had wandered. It had started on your shoulder, then had traveled to the back of your neck, slowly sliding down ever so slightly. Now it was resting on your lower shoulder blade, his body warmth seeping through your skin.

Arthur sighed: "Sorry I can't do more. We should get some rest." Arthur looked at you from the side. You didn't want this to end.

"I could really do with a warm body next to me", you whispered.

Despite the red orange flames, you saw Arthur blush: "You mean-? Yer sure?" You nodded slightly. You weren't even sure if Arthur interpreted it the way you intended to, but when you both got up and crawled into the tent and he started getting out of his jacket and unbuttening his shirt, you knew you had an understanding. "Ya better share one of the blankets with me then", Arthur said in a hushed voice. His shirt was fully unbuttoned his jacket was rolled up and would serve you both as a pillow. You threw caution to the wind, unwrapped one blanket and threw it to Arthur, then lied down onto your bedroll. Instinctively, you turned your back to Arthur, lifting the blanket slightly. You knew he could see your exposed back, you knew he could probably see further down too; but you cared for nothing but his warmth.

He pulled you closer until his warm chest touched your back, an arm wrapped around you. You knew your back was freezing and you heard - no, felt, Arthur's sucked in breath when his torso touched yours. "'m sorry", you hummed, "I'll make it up to you."

You were exhausted. The constant shivering had worn you down and you knew you'd be off to sleep soon enough.

"Ya better. This is a one time thing, ya hear me?", Arthur mumbled in a gentle voice. Arthur held you close. His hand found yours, holding it, warming it. You sneaked your feet in between his legs, sighing happily. Arthur was so close to you, you felt his beard tickle your shoulder and neck. You couldn't possibly tell, the feeling hadn't returned to your back enough, but you wondered if the softness you felt in the crook of your neck were Arthur's lips. You certainly felt his hot breath at about the same spot.

Both of you knew very well this was anything but a one time thing.

-----x

needed this to hopefully recover from my writing block lol

[megamindsecretlair]

Reunion

Crossposted on @megamindslair

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Two cuss words LOL.

Summary: While out for fuel, you hear a voice that belonged to your confirmed dead best friend Loki. Surely this is a trick, but surely you must investigate.

Word Count: 1,415k

A/N: My first fic! It was just an idea I kicked around. Likely won’t be a “thing”. But I hated the idea that Loki was alive and there was no one but Thor to mourn him. While likes are awesome, please consider reblogging and commenting to support writers!

You didn’t have time for this. You rubbed your head as the ogre merchant in front of you tried to haggle over something you already negotiated. A stack of American money in exchange for fuel for your ship. You brought the stack, he brought the fuel. What was the issue?

The merchant prattled on and on about fueling and shipping costs. The unseasonably warm weather chafed under your heavy leather pants and coat. Your boots squelched with the telltale sign of sweat between your toes. You were pissed off and hot, a dangerous combination.

You yanked the canister out of his hand and his eyes widened at your strength. You dropped the bag of money on the ground and then picked up the other canister, each weighing a good quarter ton. You dipped your head in thanks to the merchant and walked off, his useless screaming behind you.

You walked towards the docking area maneuvering around busybodies. This realm was new to travelers and the world had made hasty accommodations for all manners of ships, merchants, travelers, and the like. The realm was still untainted by modern hands. There were rolling hills of green, crisp blue sky, and trees as tall as mountains. 

The dock was new. A small city had been erected to dock and service ships, eateries had popped up offering both local and foreign cuisine, and shops cropped up with the latest fashion.

Vanaheim had seen better days. The Vanir who stayed after the war retreated to the forests, hidden away in their alcoves. The Vanir who returned made a treaty with them to leave the forests alone and all would be well. 

You took a deep breath for the familiar smells of home. Earthy scents and fresh bread.

“This way, I know a spot.” 

You froze. You knew that voice. But it was impossible. 

Despite the heat, cold seeped into your veins. Your breathing turned shallow. Your head swiveled looking for the source.

There were suddenly too many people. People of all shapes and sizes, colors and temperament milled about aimlessly or on their way to do business. You moved around them but for each person you passed, three more took their spot.

You heard him. Clear as any bell. Your eyes darted to and fro searching for a ghost. You growled when you couldn’t make heads or tails of the setting before you. It was too much and you were already in a dark mood. 

Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you again. Perhaps it only sought to torture you of days past. 

You turned to head back towards your ship, cursing the distraction, when you bumped into someone. You looked up, apology on your lips, when you saw him. Your mouth hung slack as you took in your formerly dead best friend. Though, best friend was too small a concept. You dropped the canisters on the ground and stared.

Loki, prince of Asgard, stood in front of you in a…suit of all things. He blinked at you. And you started to giggle. A giggle turned into a chuckle, which then morphed into howling. The type of howling that hurt your sides and made you gasp with effort. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

He called out your name softly, surprise making his eyes wide. Gods it wasn’t fair. He looked exactly the same. His hair was shorter, but still combed away from his face. His face was all sharp lines with a regal nose and strong jawline. 

“It’s really you, right?” You asked. Your eyes had played tricks on you before. Your mind was far from easy and after so much loss, this very well may be a ruse or a trick of the sun. You lifted your hand and hovered it above his arm but you were too afraid to touch him.

If this was a cruel trick of the gods, if he wasn’t real…

His long fingers wrapped around your wrist. You sighed. He was real. Gods he was real.

You threw your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes since he was much taller. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as fiercely.

“I can’t believe – what are you doing here?” You asked. Of all the places you imagined meeting up with him, Vanaheim wasn’t at the top of the list.

Though you pulled back, you kept in constant contact. You held his hands, you crowded his space. He was here.

“Bit of a long story,” he said. 

“This is cute, but we’re late.” You turned to the sound, noting a short man with a bushy mustache, blond hair, and a big nose. He was dressed in a similar suit like Loki’s and you looked between them. You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Are you two in a band?” You asked.

Loki looked down at his outfit and smiled. “Another long story,” he said. 

“There’s a million things I want to ask you right now,” you said. Questions swirled in your head, each too quick to pick one. You wanted to ask him everything but the questions were too small. Even though you held him, you felt as if he would disappear. As if you were his only tether to the mortal realm. 

“There’s a million answers I want to give,” he said. His crystal blue eyes bore into you with an expression that was likely mirrored in your own eyes. It was awe, disbelief, relief, happiness, apprehension. It was too much and not enough. 

“But we really do have to go, our window is closing,” he said with a sigh. 

“What? No. I just..you’re alive, no,” you stuttered. You shook your head. Loki brought his hands up to cradle your neck. His fingers deftly stroked your cheek. “I promise I’ll explain everything,” he said.

You stared at him. This…this was not the Loki you remembered. Since when did he promise sincerely or wasn’t ready with a quip sharp enough to break glass? 

“What the hell is going on?” You asked.

“We need to go,” the man beside him said. You scowled at the man. He could damn well wait.

“What about Thor? Does he know you’ve returned?” You asked.

Pain shuttered Loki’s eyes shut. He dropped his hands from your face.  “No, please don’t tell him,” he said.

“I-it’s really complicated, and we truly don’t have time for it now. I promise, I’ll explain,” he said. 

The man beside him turned to walk away. Loki walked backwards a few steps, leaving your bubble of space. 

“No,” you said. He had to stay and explain what was going on. He had to explain how he was alive and why he didn’t want Thor to know about it. It wasn’t like you knew where Thor was at present, but the guy wasn’t hard to find.

“Come with us,” Loki said. 

“What?” You and the horrible man gave Loki twisted scowls. 

“I can explain some of it on the way. Come with us, but it has to be right now,” he said. 

You looked down at the canisters and then up towards your ship. You were in between jobs so there was nothing keeping you from going. But your crew…

You poked the earpiece in your ear. Your ship’s first mate was a burly man named Tig. He was a teddy bear, but only after he considered you family. 

“Come get these canisters and fuel up. I need to take care of something for a few days,” you said when Tig answered on comms.

As if you would really pass up a chance to see what was going on. Curiosity will likely be the death of you, but fuck it. Great stories never started with, “but responsibility”. 

“What are you talking about? Where are you?” 

Down the dock with other smaller crafts, Tig leaned out of the ship. He scanned for you, you weren’t terribly far, and he waved. 

“Come get them. I’ll check in when I’m ready. Take the crew for leave and I’ll catch up to you.” 

Loki grinned and held out his hand. This was absolutely nuts. This was perhaps the dumbest thing you’d ever done and that was saying something, considering you used to hang out with Loki, Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three.

But you couldn’t let him go, not without a guarantee that you’d see him again. So you placed your hands in his and followed him, just like old times.

There's more Loki to love! The Secret Loki Files