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ozzgin · 3 months

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Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #horror #monster x reader #monster romance #yandere oc #monster smut #monster boyfriend #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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designbyjorgenieves · 1 year

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Little by little solidifying the habit of deep focus. I’ve definitely come a long way.

#productivity #forest #forest app #complete #achievement #pomodoro #pomodoro timer #entrepreneur #entreprenuership #focus #stay focused #focusonyourgoals #rewards

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mockerycrow · 9 months

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Frozen Fingertips [1/2] (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist - part two

Summary: You and Simon are in an extremely cold and snow covered area of Russia and manage to get separated from everyone else when a blizzard comes out of nowhere. Ghost helps keep you alive.

[WARNINGS: Light descriptions of developing hypothermia and frostbite, angst, hurt/comfort, ghost is actually worried.]

THE EXTREMELY COLD air bit at the little skin that’s exposed on your face and invades your lungs, nearly feeling like it’s sending frost to bite at the most inner corners of your esophagus. Dressed in snow boots, a snow suit as well as a snow jacket with a bullet proof vest, a thick scarf, two layers of gloves—a pair of thin gloves and then your snow gloves—as well as a beanie with your hood up. You tried to tie your scarf in such a way where it covers the lower portion of your face, but movement has made the fabric crumble down. The conditions of the snowy forest you’re trudging through are harsh; the snow is several feet deep, nearly up to your mid-thigh, causing you to have to quite literally pull your leg through dense snow, and of course you forgot your sunglasses for this trip. The bright sun is shining onto the snow surrounding you, successfully blinding you, causing you to squint until you give yourself a headache.

You have no idea what temperature it is, but all you know is that the fact that you’re moving through the snow is the only thing getting you through this. Your nose burns from the cold and so do your cheekbones, and any other skin that is exposed. You hold your rifle tighter to your chest in an attempt to maintain warmth, and despite all of your protective clothing, you don’t feel warm at all. You’re traveling with Ghost, while Soap, Price, and Gaz are infiltrating a nearby safehouse, owned by Makarov. You and Ghost are making your way to the exfil point after providing overwatch—the weather was beginning to pick up, blocking your line of sight. You shudder as some snow lands on the tip of your nose and melt, but nearly immediately freeze due to the temperature.

You keep dragging your feet through the snow, one foot after the other, trying to think warm thoughts to keep you going. Your radio crackles to life and Ghost’s muffled voice comes through; he’s only in front of you, but the snow can act as a sound muffler. “Doin’ alright?” His voice is like a wave of warmth washing over you, and you close your eyes for a moment as you walk. You open them and mumble, “Freezing my ass off, sir.” Ghost lets out a huff that almost sounds like a chuckle. “Keep moving, sergeant. You’ll keep your strength and warmth up.” You don’t bother to respond as you continue to trudge on. The wind begins to pick up as well as the falling snow slowly turns into a mini blizzard. “This is Price to Ghost and [Name], how copy?”

You don’t bother to respond as you’re focused on keeping yourself upright—when did you begin to feel so tired? “Loud and clear, Price. The weather’s pickin’ up.”

When did you begin to feel so.. warm? ..What?

You blink and suddenly you find yourself collapsed into the snow. You don’t question it, because you’re quite comfortable. The coldness of the snow feels good against your suddenly warm skin. You’re violently shivering, but you don’t mind. You’re warm. A pair of hands grab your coat, flipping you over so you’re no longer face down into the snow. You whine and weakly try to push whoever is touching you because their gloved hands are on your face, brushing snow off of your skin. “Stop,” You slur, your voice wobbling. Your hearing tappers out for a moment, and apparently so does your vision because the next thing you know—you find yourself in a cabin.

The first thing you feel is warmth—and then extreme coldness, and then numbness, and it’s a repeating cycle, causing you constantly shiver where you’re laying. Your limbs feel so heavy and you just want to stay laying down, but you’re hit with the thought of Ghost. Did he bring you here? Or did something happen, causing someone to take you? Your thoughts are in disarray, that much is clear. You can’t even form a coherent thought. You blink slowly as to focus your gaze, and you see a tall and bulky figure bent down by a fireplace, which you’re laying near. Huh. You’re somehow stuffed inside your sleeping bag. The figure’s back is turned to you, so whatever they’re doing, you’re unable to see. “C’mon,” The rough voice hisses. Oh, it’s Ghost.. Duh. You let out a choked noise as a weird pain of blistering pain radiates through your skull, and you’re vaguely aware of the feeling of your blood quickly rushing back into your fingertips, the humming sensation in your fingers nearing painful. They were lightly tingling before.

You blink again; time has passed. There’s a fire going now, a steady one, but it’s clearly not enough. Not with the way Ghost’s intense eyes are staring into yours, him saying something about you staying awake, something about how he knows you want to sleep—which he’s right about—but you can’t, and that you shouldn’t. You nearly wanna reach over and smack him about that, and you would have if you could move without the sluggish and heavy weighted feelings in your limbs. Who is he, to tell you, what you can and cannot do?? “I’m tired, Ghost.. Lemme sleep.” You croak out—your voice is trembling and you don’t understand why, but your body doesn’t give you enough energy to properly question it and you lay your head back down, trying to turn it away.

“Need you to keep those eyes open, [Name],” Ghost’s voice is suddenly.. very, very, very close to your ears. Your eyes flutter back open—you don’t even remember closing them—and you’re face to face to his mask. His brown eyes burrow into yours, nearing unreadable, but one thought pops up when your head allows it; he’s worried. Ghost is worried. “M’here,” You mutter, feeling yourself shake in your sleeping bag. “I’m here.” You watch as Ghost gets up from his position, which was looming over you, to add more fuel to the fireplace. The fire cracks and sparks alive once again, and you never noticed it died down. Must’ve been a while, of you being in and out. Your head is finally allowing you think more clearly. “How..” You lick your dry and cold lips before continuing. “How long has it been?”

Ghost looks over at you, pausing for a moment before poking at the burning wood with a fireplace poker. “You don’t know?” He questions, his voice tense. Bad sign. You not remembering how much time has passed is a very bad sign. You shake your head, tugging your sleeping bag closer to your body in a sluggish manner. Ghost’s quiet as he moves back over to you, grabbing his own sleeping bag which is tightly rolled up and attached to his backpack. Ghost begins to unravel the fabric and unzip it, in an attempt to make a blanket. “Well, a big blizzard started up as we were headin’ to the RV. Found you face down in the snow a bit behind me, and knew you..” He trails off as pulls the zippers down, hesitating in his movements. “..knew you needed to rest, needed help.”

You press your lips together because it’s so clear Ghost is avoiding what he wanted to say; what you both know what he meant. A harsh shiver rolls out through your body, harsh enough to make your vision spin, causing Ghost to huff. He drapes his unzipped sleeping bag over your body, tucking the extra fabric under your body. You groan quietly and you shut your eyes for a moment. Ghost is shifting stuff around and you his gloves fingers push your hat up ever so slightly and then you feel.. skin pressing against your forehead?? Your eyes open sleepily to the sight of Ghost’s mask pushed to above his nose, exposing his scarred lips and cheeks. You open your mouth to say something but a quiet whimper leaves you as your vision swims again—not giving you a moment to think about his kiss against your forehead. “Cold.” He mutters as he grabs the edge of his mask and pulls it back over the rest of his face, down to his neck. You watch as Ghost takes off his scarf and wraps it around your neck instead, and then he lays down next to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. You try to question why he’s doing this, but Ghost is already three steps ahead of you. “You’re not of any help if you’re dead, love.” His voice is steady, but it’s on edge—like he’s scared.

You shut your eyes and you lean into his everlasting warmth, and you decide to not point out how his gloved fingers are stroking the exposed skin of your face in a soothing manner.

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ma1dita · 3 months

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bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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idkfitememate · 5 months

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Pt. 1(You are here!), Pt. 2, Pt. 3

So, SAGAU right? Imposter ver specifically, right? Alllll of Teyvat has been ruled by some asshole who claims to be the creator, right?

Welp.

It’s time for you to get your ass isekai’d!

One problem though….

Instead of getting your phone, or having all the elements under your belt, or anything else…

You’re a boar.

Not like a “BiG tUsK sPeCiAl PaTtErN” boar.

Just a boar you can find in the starting areas of Mondstadt that just so happens to have golden blood.

Fun.

Hell, when you first woke up, you were confused on why you were short. And why you were in fours. And hairy. And why your mouth felt so damn heavy. And dragging yourself to a small pound, you figured out why.

Shaggy brown hair and small beady black eyes staring back at you. Large, off white tusks block your forward vision so you move to the side in order to see yourself better. Designs in a darker brown line your fur, a small tail flailing in the wind.

And that is how you spent your first few months in Genshin Impact.

A simple boar trying their damnest to not die.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Apparently spending time by yourself makes the human mind bored (pun intended).

So.

You decided to build a boar friendly base in the trees.

You noted that all mobs weren’t hostile to you, most likely due to your god status. That and Teyvat was willing to literally bend itself backwards in order to ensure your survival. Making sure only the freshest of fruits fell to your feet, ensuring that the waters were calm when you wanted to swim, and that the winds would gently blow you off, making your fur all fluffy, so on and so forth.

It was especially nice when a hunter had their sights set on you, only for a pack of hilichurl to appear and slaughter the man, the ground swallowing him up.

Now, the first few times it was fucking horrifying, but then you kinda realized you they didn’t do that, you’d be super dead right now, so you pushed an apple over in thanks and took all the headpats you could get from the group.

Anyway, back to the main topic.

You got bored (pun intended again) of living on the ground where anyone could find you and kill you, and that was no fun! So you found a nice mountain side (since you didn’t have a map, you couldn’t say right off the top of your head where you were but you knew full well it was by Dragonspine. Gods you were so cold… but I’d be worth it!-) with a nice forest next to it, and began building.

With the help of nearby mita and lawachurls and - of course - Teyvat itself, you carved into the side of the mountain, creating a cave system that only a being as short as you could traverse. Then, you connected them to a large treehouse system and continued to work on said treehouse system. Someone would have to be focusing damn hard and not fighting the actual army of churls and slimes and other beasts that made their way to stay beneath your home to actually see… well your home.

And up you went.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

More months had passed, and confirmed many things for you.

A. The true “Imposter” had came here long before you.

B. They very weren’t a boar.

C. You did have a human form, but your “Creator” form had a boar as a symbolic animal.

Which, while initially was a little insulting, you came to (reluctantly) agree that, yeah. That was unfortunately pretty accurate.

You could be a bit sloppy at times, keeping a good appearance wasn’t at the absolute top of your list, as well as eating well… or drinking, but still!

You continued your now lavish boar life in the trees and caves, no longer bored (I’m not sorry for reusing this pun.).

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You had been in Teyvat for… a year now? No one suspected a boar of being the true creator, everyone was still being treated like shit by the “creator” and you were still tucked away in your little forest/cave structure home.

You got a little curious, and well?

You found that you could - in fact - do something cool!

You could control the elements! Outside of Teyvat just doing things that were in your best interests. You could grow vines! And spit fire! And burp lightning and squeal hard and loud enough that it created a whirlwind!

You could part the seas like Moses!

…

Anyway-

You may have gotten a bit carried away, feeling secure in where you were. So you let the churls braid some parts of your fur, and paint it… and they gave you a mask.

And you’d chase seelies. And rest with slimes.

And just do a lot of shit that most boars definitely couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t do.

And unfortunately, one night when you were doing a fire dance with one of your favorite hilichurl camps. (They were the ones to kill that first hunter. They also gave you your first mask and paint job).

Completely enveloped in the current happenstance, while you breathed large balls of fire into the night that somehow didn’t injure a single being nor set a single tree alight…

You missed the boy who believed he was a wolf watching from the shadows.

…Oops?

I’m shocked people actually like this thingy lol. Part 2 is on the way! As a treat, I fixed up some typos and fixed some grammar mistakes!

Have a good day/night dears! <3 ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

P. S. Now I made a tag as well!

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator

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exhaslo · 5 days

Text

Over-Time Ch2

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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A soothing hot tea was just the thing to calm the nerves. All of your worries melted away with each sip. The amount of drink options that were offered for interviews was quite impressive. That's a rich company for sure.

Plus, the music was very relaxing. You had started to wonder about the perks of working here that the website didn't tell you. All you had to do was keep calm and do well during this interview. You had pracited for hours in the mirror.

You could handle a one on one interview!

Reviewing common interview questions, you noticed more people arrive on the floor. Each took a seat away from you, looking around in awe. In total, including you, there were six people. Not a lot for how big his company was.

"Alright. Everyone is here, please follow me to the interview room." A woman with incredible fashion said.

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone got up and followed her. You were last, feeling your nerves kick in. Arriving at the large room, you felt your fears sink in.

This was a group interview.

You were not getting this job. You couldn't do group interviews. It was hard to speak up and you often got over shadowed by other people. Your stomach was twisting as the urge to puke was starting to form. This was horrible.

But you had to be brave!

"Alright. I'm Lyla, normally I won't be conducting the interview, but there was a last minute emergency so you are stuck with me. Shame for the lot of you honestly." Lyla spoke.

You sat near the back since the others took the closer seats. Trying to control your breathing, you focused on the painting behind Lyla. It was a beautiful water color portrait of a foggy forest after a rainstorm. It was quite pleasant.

"I've read your files. I want your names and why you think you deserve to work here." Lyla said harshly.

You were practicing what you were going to say as everyone went their turn. You were going to be the fourth person speaking. All you had to do was say your name and why you would fit in at Alchemax. That was it. Easy.

"Next."

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

You tuned the man out, shocked that he cut you. Rolling your lips inward, you tried your best not to cry as you just repeated what you were going to say in your head. It was always like this. You needed to be louder. You needed to stop being shy.

----------

Miguel rested his head against the palm of his hand as he watched Lyla run the group interview. His focus turned to you since it was your turn to speak. It was cute how he noticed you count the people ahead of you and started muttering to yourself.

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

Miguel scoffed in disgust towards the man. Yes, your voice was low, but you were still speaking. Miguel hated it when people were interrupted. No matter, Miguel had to just stay quiet and let Lyla run this interview.

It was rough. You were being spoken over and interrupted at any given chance. Miguel wanted to see what you were capable of. You sounded so sure of yourself in the elevator. Hell, even shy people need to be given a fair chance.

"Lyla, leave the room for a moment. I want to see something."

-------

Lyla pressed against her earbud, listening to someone from what it seems. You were sunk in your seat, glancing at her.

"Understood." She sighed and released her earbud, "I shall return in a moment. There is a minor set back I must resolve."

With that, Lyla left the room. You gulped since everyone now had their attention towards you. Like wolves glaring down at their prey. You could feel your heart beat in your throat.

"Best if you leave now."

"No, no. She's making us look good."

"She's useless. How she got this far is beyond me."

"A pest if you ask me."

Unable to hold back your tears, you were quick to grab your paperwork. One of the other interviewers quickly forced you back into your seat.

"If you leave, it will look like we bullied you. Just shut up and stay seated. Okay?"

You were hesitant to answer.

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you understand?"

Nodding violently, you quickly wiped your tears. Their grip was harsh against your shoulder. All you wanted to do was leave. Leave and cry. This was horrible. What made you think you had a chance at such a fancy company?

"(Y/N), follow me." Lyla said as she entered the room for a moment.

You were quick to grab your things and leave. Lyla had you follow her to a separate room on the floor. Upon entering, you gasped softly as Miguel sat at a small desk, welcoming you in.

--------

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched your face light up to a familiar friendly face. He motioned you to sit and offered some water to calm you down. Once you had relaxed a bit, Miguel took a seat back at the desk.

"I should have warned you that it was a group interview." Miguel started. You sipped the water,

"N-No, it's fine. Um...I probably...should have prepared better," You muttered.

Miguel just smiled towards you. You glanced up, making eye contact and gasped. Your cheeks were turning red as you accidently dropped the water.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Miguel grabbed your hand, helping you back into the seat. He grabbed the bottle of water and placed it on the desk, "I'm sure you're still shaken up. You can relax here."

"Thank you....T-To be honest, I...I am a little clumsy too...Especially when my...nerves kick in."

"And that's alright. I want Alchemax to be a comfortable place for my-uh, our employees." Miguel cleared his throat.

Who knows how nervous you would get if you found out that he was the CEO. Your face might turn into a tomato at that rate. Miguel wanted to keep you in the dark just a little bit longer. It was refreshing to speak with someone who didn't know his identity.

"Here. I want you to organize this list of meetings for me during a one week schedule."

Miguel handed you two pieces of paper. He sat at the desk, watching you work as you read everything carefully. This was the first schedule that Lyla ever had to work with and it stressed her out trying to fit everything together.

"Done."

Miguel raised his head in surprise as you finished in a matter of minutes. Looking over the schedule you had made, Miguel was surprised. You had managed to work everything out and even give Miguel more time than Lyla did.

"Impressive." Miguel whispered, "Mind if I give you a few more tests?"

"I don't," You whispered calmly.

The next half hour consisted of you working on Miguel's meeting schedules with shareholders, business partners, etc. He role played some phone calls with you and everything else that Lyla would normally do for him.

Despite your shy personality and clumsy nature, you were perfect for the job.

"I must say (Y/N), I'm impressed." Miguel said with a smile as he grabbed your hand, "Be sure to expect a call from us soon. Allow me to walk you to the door."

Miguel watched as your cheeks started to fluster. You stayed quiet while smiling. Honestly, having you work under him would be a treat. It was going to be nice having someone so cute and shy working right under him.

"Um, thank you, Miguel....For giving me a chance," You whispered, stopping in front of the elevator. Miguel just chuckled lowly,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Waving goodbye towards you, Miguel waited for the elevator to close before frowning. He stomped his way over to the interview room where Lyla and the five fools were. Slamming the door open, Miguel gave them all a glare.

"All of you, out. I don't want a single pathetic lot of you ever stepping near this building again."

"Wow, harsh much." Lyla teased as the interviewees nearly begged for a chance.

"I have who I want as your replacement."

"Oh? Don't sound too excited now," Lyla chuckled. Once everyone left, she glanced at Miguel, "That good?"

"Don't be jealous if I say she is better than you."

"Ohhh, ouch. That hurt," Lyla laughed and nudged Miguel's shoulder, "I can't wait to train her."

--------

You were biting your lower lip as you smiled from ear to ear. You weren't sure how, but Miguel was your saving grace. You couldn't wait to get a call from Alchemax now. Recalling the warmth of his hand against yours, you nearly squealed.

"Hopefully I get to work with him~"

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Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @@reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel ohara

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eilidh-eternal · 4 months

Text

Good morning 🥰 Wolf-shifter!Price is a bad, bad man 🤭 | Part 1 | Masterlist |

18+ MDNI | This is a DARK FIC | cw: blood, drowning, predator and prey dynamics

Little fawn… You shouldn’t be out on that ice.

John lingers at the edge of the forest, halts his routine surveillance at the fringes of his territory, and watches as you fall, can hear the ice shudder and give way, can smell the panic and fear as you sink beneath the frozen surface.

Well. A frozen meal is better than no meal at all.

He peels back layers of winter garb as he approaches the waters edge, shucking them into the snow before he makes the plunge himself.

You must have tried to fight it, the dead weight of your heavy clothing. Still so close to the surface when he reaches you. With kicking feet he takes you under the arms and hauls you back up, pushes you up onto the ice before hauling himself out behind you, and carries you off the treacherous lake. Sharp metal prods at his thigh with each step that jostles your skate-clad feet, and a growl of contempt rumbles in his chest when he feels the blade dig into his skin, thin rivulets of warm blood mixing with the water that drips from his body. They’re the first thing he removes from you, followed by the useless coat full of lake water and the monstrosity of a sweater beneath it.

Your left side blooms a tantalizing red, droplets staining the snow beneath you like Rorschach ink bleeds onto paper, and the sweet, metallic scent floods his senses. Calls to baser instincts. But then you begin to cough and hack, water gurgling between your darkened lips, and he can hear the faint thump of the cordiform muscle in your chest beating back to life. Pulsing with more of that sweet essence.

Not so frozen after all. Still time for a little fun.

He hopes you wake soon, that he won’t have to slink along in the shadows for hours before your scent paints the forest and leads him to you. Hopes that when you wake the panic and fear will smell just as decadent mingled with the adrenaline. Oh, how he’d like to linger here and watch that panic bloom on your pretty little face. Watch the confusion turn to shock, watch the whites of your eyes swallow the irises as you realize who—what—looms over you.

But he can’t. You won’t last out in this cold in your sopping clothes, and he won’t last in this form without his. So he leaves you with his coat draped over your body, the rest of his clothes nearby in the snow, and prowls into the sanctuary of pine and aspens that shield his fur from the wind blasted clearing you lie in.

He prowls, and he waits.

It doesn’t take long. And you’re so, so smart, little fawn. So smart to make use of the clothing he’s left for you. So very clever to follow his footprints in the snow. To wrap your arms around your middle and keep your hands balled inside the oversized sleeves of his coat.

And your scent… Oh, he had not been expecting that. The way your sweetness has tangled itself with his own scent. The way the lingering musk from his clothes wraps around your delicate, honeyed sillage. Warm and syrupy, like the blood that splatters in the snow and paints a path through the trees.

So focused are you on pushing forward, on moving and staying warm, that you do not notice the shadow at your back when you trudge into their refuge, sighing long and heavy at the absence of the punishing wind nipping at your exposed skin. You huff and puff as you fight the deep drifts, already at a disadvantage and clumsy in shoes far too big for you, his footsteps clearing the way not making much if a difference in your exhausted, wounded state.. You can hardly walk, let alone run, and so he bides his time. Watches from a distance, from the cover of pine boughs heavy and drooping with snow, from the shadows cast by the rapidly setting sun.

The snow may glitter and glisten, might make pretty patterns on frosted leaves and look pillowy soft where it gathers in drifts at the bases of tree trunks, but it is deceptive and cruel under the light of the moon. And the dark brings forth a host of malevolent, savage creatures. Things like him.

He’s doing you a kindness, really, watching over you as you tromp through the snow. Herding you closer and closer to his den. And don’t you just look delicious, smell absolutely divine, when all that fear and panic comes rushing back when you reach the end of his tracks. You’re so lucky that it’s him who pulled you from that lake, who’s been tracking you through this forest, and not some other, overeager beast that lacks composure and control.

No, he’s going to savor you. Going to take his time wearing you down. Get your adrenaline pumping, nice and warm for him when he finally brings you to his den. Then, and only then, will he taste you. Slake the thirst gnawing away inside of him, hollowing out his insides with the need to touch and taste and devour the sweet scent he’s been following for hours.

The snarl that rips from his throat is a primal thing, more animal than man, as he tastes your desperation, the spike of adrenaline when you finally realize you’ve been followed. His growl echoes in the silence that follows, beckons you to turn around, to let him see the fear as it unfolds across your features.

Let me see you, little one. Look at my teeth and claws and show me those pretty doe-eyes.

And god are you a fucking sight when you do, eyes wide with terror and shaking like a newborn on trembling legs. He knows you don’t shiver because of the cold, knows the decadent scent of dread and horror when it hits him, knows the instant you get that sinking feeling in your stomach when your eyes meet his and instead of doing what you should do, make yourself seem bigger, louder, you deflate. You curl in on yourself and don’t make a sound, hardly even breathe, until he pads forward, and you mirror his movement.

He steps forward, you step back. He steps to the left and you’re inching to the right. So easy for him, going exactly where he wants you to, doesn’t even have to snarl to get you to move in the right direction.

What a precious little thing you are, and you have no idea what’s in store for you.

He wouldn’t say it’s a game of cat and mouse, you haven’t even taken your eyes off of him, refuse to turn your back to him. So he keeps edging closer, hedging your little bubble of ‘safety’ you’ve managed to maintain. But then you go the wrong way, stumble over a fallen tree buried beneath the snow and it sets you off course, so he has no choice but to correct you.

Another low growl vibrates through him and it amuses him when your steps falter, when you freeze in place and he circles to come at you from the other direction.

This way, little one.

He moves further into your bubble and you start moving again, in the right direction this time. And though he can still taste the fear rolling off of you, there’s something else buried beneath it, tangy and acidic on his tongue. You don’t exactly back away from him anymore, either, just shuffle along with frequent glances over your shoulder to make sure he hasn’t gotten too close. Getting too comfortable. He’ll have to teach you how poor that decision is, to turn your back on him.

But not today. Today, you will go to his den, and he’ll be teaching you a different sort of lesson once he gets that nasty gouge on your side sorted. It’s beginning to bleed through his coat, deep red blooming against dull khaki, and you’re stumbling over everything and nothing. So he hedges closer, practically nipping at your heels to spur you on, get you moving just a bit quicker, until finally the scent of smoke and pine sap wafts through the air, and you make a relieved sound when the cabin comes into view.

You don’t need his guidance anymore. You know you need the warmth of that fire, the shelter the cabin offers. And you’re desperate enough not to care who it belongs to. Desperate enough that when no one answers your calls and you find the door unlocked, you go right in, go straight to the hearth and huddle as close as you can to the flames. You really shouldn’t, but you lay down, curl into the insulation of the coat and let your eyes droop closed, despite the risk of hypothermia that falling asleep poses. But you must be tired. You’d drowned. Nearly gutted yourself falling through the ice. Waded through wind and snow with a wolf at your back to get here.

Of course you’re tired. Tired enough that you don’t hear John come inside, don’t stir as he moves about and tends to himself and the fire. Only make a soft whining sound when he finally lifts you from the floor to settle you on the couch and peel away the blood-crusted layers that cling to your skin. He makes quick work of the wound, cleaning the dried blood from your skin and soaking up the fresh outpouring with gauze as he pushes the needle and thread through your skin, too exhausted to register the additional pain.

Fur lined blankets settle over you, cocooning you in warmth and shielding you from the lingering cold in the air. John watches you from his place on the adjacent armchair, feet kicked up on the old coffee table, and he hums knowingly when you burrow deeper into the blankets' warm refuge.

Rest now, little fawn. You’ll need all your strength when you wake.

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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livyjh · 7 months

Text

Hunger

Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: on a patrol near Jackson with Joel, you run out of food and have to make do with whatever you can find. Eating the wrong thing makes you both feel… different.

A/N: Here’s another one shot unrelated to Temptation :) I really wanted to write a sex pollen thing with Joel and here it is!!

Warnings: sex pollen/sex poison, smut, dub-con based on the nature of the sex pollen/poison trope, talk about being hungry/eating, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), masturbation, rough sex, angry fucking, being mean to each other, Joel calls you a slut, choking, hair pulling, quick mention of blood/taste of blood, nipple play, spanking with object, anal play, creampie.

Joel Miller Masterlist

****************************************************

“I’m fucking starving.” You sigh, walking alongside Joel in the forest.

You were on day two of a three day patrol route, tonight you’d stay in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Tomorrow you’d return to Jackson.

“Drink some water. It’ll hold ya over.” Joel sighs back at you. “Or pick some mushrooms.”

You scoff at him. “Very funny.”

“I thought so.” He chuckles quietly.

You roll your eyes, trudging through the humid spring weather. “Are there any edible flowers out here? Shit, I’d eat tree bark at this point.”

Joel shakes his head. “Don’t know much about the plants out here.”

You frown. Until…

“Oh my god.” You gasp and run to a bush you spotted about 10 yards away.

Joel calls after you, using your name to try and get your attention. But it doesn’t work, you were laser focused.

On a tall bush, almost as tall as you, there were berries. Ones that looked… like a raspberry, or a blackberry, but they were orange. You weren’t a hundred percent sure, but, you feel like you remember maybe eating these before.

“Joel!” You wave him over and he walks faster to get to you.

“What?” He sighs, putting a hand on his hip.

“These are edible.” You smile at him, then look at the bush, then back at Joel. “I think.”

He rolls his eyes and begins to walk past you.

“Joel, I know you’re just as hungry as I am. And I swear I remember eating berries just like this before. They should be fine.” You reasoned with him.

He turns back to face you. “Fine. Eat a couple.” He shrugs.

You gulp and stare at the berries for a few seconds before plucking a few and putting them in your mouth. You start to chew and soon scrunch your nose. They’re tart. Not quite sour, but very tart. You couldn’t give a shit at this point.

“They’re good.” You smile at Joel and pull more berries from the bush.

He walks over and picks a berry, bringing it up to his nose to smell it before finally putting it in his mouth. He starts to chew. “These are not good.”

“Quit complaining. It’s food. If those goddamn squirrels hadn’t gotten into your pack that you just left lying around for an hour…”

“You’re the one who fell asleep while you were s’posed to be watchin’ our shit, I was hunting.” He sneers at you.

“That’s because you talk in your sleep and I barely got two hours last night!” You scoff at him.

“Swear to god, if I die by some fuckin’ berries after all the shit I-“

“You’re not gonna die, Joel. Don’t be such a pussy.” You laugh and keep plucking berries and putting them into your mouth.

He sighs and breaks off a small branch, picking a couple more berries and eating them. “Reminds me of pineapple… except, not good.”

You shake your head and keep eating, ignoring his complaining for the next ten minutes while you both gorge yourself on the fruit.

“Should be getting to that safe house in the next hour.” Joel nods at you as you both continue walking, bellies full and satisfied.

A half hour passes and you feel like your skin is too hot. Your clothes are too hot. It was humid, but… it was only maybe 60° out. You shouldn’t be sweating like this.

Joel was on the same page, having taken his light jacket off only ten minutes into continuing your walk to the cabin.

“Joel…” you speak cautiously.

“I don’t feel good either.” He sighs.

“What should we-“ you start.

“Just gotta let the body process it. Or reject it. Whichever comes first.”

You both let out long sighs and keep walking.

15 more minutes and there’s a dull ache in the pit of your stomach. Lower than that, actually. It feels like where your uterus is.

You notice that Joel is breathing heavy, sounding more and more labored.

“Down… uh,” Joel glances at you and then stares for a second. “Down this trail here.” He points to a spot a few yards up where the main road diverts to a slim trail, barely noticeable if you hadn’t been looking for it. It was overgrown.

You nod at him, feeling warmth bloom in your chest and face. You follow him down the trail for a couple minutes when you come across a large fallen tree.

Joel climbs over it easily with his long legs. You? Not so much.

You struggle for a moment as you try and get your footing on a branch start on the side of the log, but you can’t.

“Jesus, give me a fucking hand, will you?” You snap at Joel.

He rolls his eyes and reaches out a hand to help you over the tree.

The second you grab his hand, you feel a jolt of electricity run up your arm and straight to your core. You couldn’t pinpoint what was going on. You felt irritable… angry… but all you could think about after getting over that log, was how Joel’s skin felt against yours.

You approached the cabin just a couple minutes later. You both walk inside and set down your bags before Joel disappears into the bathroom.

You hear the faucet start to run. You’d forgotten this place was connected to water… just didn’t have a working water heater.

You sat down in a recliner in the living room and involuntarily moaned when a spring under the thin recliner padding pressed against your heat through your jeans.

“Fuck.” You breathe.

You wait only ten to fifteen seconds before you figure Joel is gonna be awhile and you stick your hand down your pants. You start rubbing your clit furiously, hoping for some fucking relief before Joel comes back.

You’d go upstairs to the loft style bedroom so at least there would be a delay in Joel catching you like this, but you think rubbing your thighs together while going up stairs would make you cum anyways.

“Fuck it.” You whisper to yourself, dipping two fingers into your cunt. This is probably the wettest you’ve ever been.

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d soaked through both your panties and your jeans by now.

You hear a low grunt come from the bathroom over the sound of the faucet and it only spurs you on. Was it because you were horny out of your mind, or did that sound sexual?

A moment later, the faucet turns off and you quickly pull your hand out of your pants and wipe the wetness on the side of the recliner. Just in time too, as Joel walks out of the bathroom a second later.

He spots you on the recliner, leaned back, eyes hooded, legs spread, and something in his face changes.

He looks furious, but… helpless.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, the sensation making your whole body tingle. You look Joel up and down, feeling more wetness pool between your legs.

God, you normally didn’t get along great with him, but… you’d kill a hundred men just to have his cock inside you right now.

“Something’s wrong.” Are the first words said in that moment. Spoken by Joel.

“No shit, Sherlock.” You breathe hard, standing up.

“Don’t you fuckin’ mouth off to me.” Joel spits, stepping closer and pointing a finger at you.

You push his finger out of your face, another jolt of electricity moving through you at the skin contact. “What are you gonna do about it, old man?” You seeth.

Joel then grabs you by the throat, pushing you against the nearest wall. You can’t help but whimper at the feeling, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Shut up.” He frowns.

“Make me.” You test him.

His grip on your throat tightens, his other hand moving up to grab the hair on the back of your head. He tilts your face up by pulling down on your hair and you squeeze your thighs together, moaning despite him choking you.

You reach down into your own pants again, needing just a little relief from the searing pain and pleasure coursing through your clit.

Joel whimpers at the sight of you, his face darting down to yours and crushing your lips together.

You growl into his mouth and bite his bottom lip, and then you taste blood. He grunts and pulls back, looking down at the tank top you were in, grabbing the front with both hands and ripping it from top to bottom. You shrug the ripped clothing off, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra as you look up at him.

His eyes are damn near black. Pupils blown as wide as you’ve ever seen. He’s panting and leans down to kiss you again, despite you having bit his lip too hard on the first one.

His hands drift up your hips and over your breasts, quickly stripping you of your bra. He leans down immediately, taking your right nipple into his mouth and biting just enough to get you to squeak out a moan.

“Joel-“ you cry out as his fingers tweak your left nipple.

“What?” He asks harshly.

“Fuck me, goddamnit. Don’t have time for this shit.” You snap back.

“Take your fucking clothes off.” He barks the order as he backs up and starts to unbutton his own shirt.

He watches you with dark eyes as you slip your boots off, then your jeans, then your mostly soaked panties.

By the time he’s got his shirt off, you’re completely naked, staring at the tent in his jeans. You reach down and start to fuck yourself with two of your fingers. Joel undoes his belt and rips it from its loops in one swift motion.

You stare at him with doe eyes as he folds the leather strip in half before grabbing your wrist and pulling your fingers out. He growls and grabs you by the shoulders, moving you to lean over the arm of the couch. Lightning fast, he undoes his zipper and pulls himself out. You don’t even have time to look back when a *crack* fills the room and your ass stings painfully.

“Did I tell you you could do that?” Joel smacks your ass with his belt again.

“I told you to fuck me, already!” You screamed at him, looking back.

“Careful what you wish for.” He growls and lines up, pushing into you in under a second.

“Fuck!” You clench around him involuntarily, hearing his belt buckle hit the ground. This gave you a little relief from having to experience even more pain than you already are; between the whips of the belt and the way Joel is stretching you out.

“You asked for it.” He grunts and starts with fast, rough thrusts.

“Yeah, I know.” You spit the words at him over your shoulder.

“Show me some goddamn respect.” His cock hits the sweet spot inside you as he speaks, making you whimper loudly.

One of his hands is gripping your hip, the other reaching around your front, under your arm, gripping your breast harshly. He was holding onto you for dear life and you couldn’t get enough of it.

You’re hissing through your teeth at almost every thrust as the sound of his hips slapping your ass fills the room.

Joel doesn’t let up, his hands in bruising grips on your body. The hand on your breast moved to the front of your throat, gripping it, slowly cutting off your blood supply. He pulls you up against his chest, the new angle of your hips helping him get deeper as he fucks up into you.

“More!” You shout at him, fingers tapping the back of his hand on your throat.

He tightens his grip on you, you’re starting to see spots when your cunt pulses around him and you squirt your release all over his cock. “Fuck!” You gasp, tears forming in your eyes when Joel finally loosens his grip on your neck and you gasp for air.

You sob a string of curses as your orgasm washes over you, but Joel doesn’t stop. His hips begin to stutter and you know he’s got to be close.

You reach down and fiddle with your clit, wanting to cum again already.

“You’re a freaky thing aren’t you?” Joel asked, replacing your fingers with his own. “Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted. Fuckin’ slut.”

You nod as tears roll down your cheeks.

“Gonna let me cum inside you?? Fill up this tight pussy?” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Y- yes!! Fuck, fucking do it!” You grind down against his cock and fingers and suddenly you’re both losing it.

Joel’s fingers and hips stutter as he pumps his load into you, your cunt milking him for all he’s got. He keeps moving until his hips and back start hurting.

His dick is still hard as a rock when he pulls out of you. And there was no end in sight for you, you think you could cum ten more times and not be satisfied. You didn’t know at this point.

Joel moves around you and sits on the couch, cock in hand. His wet strokes are music to your ears as you maneuver yourself into his lap, facing away from him, each of your legs on the outside of his.

You can feel your own slick and his cum mixing together and leaking down to your asshole as you lean back against Joel’s chest.

“Fuck me again.” You pant.

“Shut up.” He spreads his thighs to make yours even further away from each other, reaching around and looking over your shoulder as he pushes two fingers into you.

He collects the wetness and starts rubbing up and down your slit, his thumb repeatedly brushing over your bundle of nerves.

“I told you I don’t have t- time for this, Joel.” You cry as you start to grind up against his hand with each downward movement of it.

“And I told you to shut up.” He growls and bites your earlobe. He can feel you dripping on him and he grabs you by the waist and folds you forward, making you put your hands on the coffee table for balance and support.

He lines himself up and pushes his cock into you, his fingers still covered in your juices moving to the hole that he hasn’t filled yet.

“Oh-“ you breathe, stomach churning with pleasure. “Do it. Fuck, don’t tease me, Joel. I’ll fucking stab you in the leg, I don’t-“ You’re cut off when his middle finger slowly pushes into you, making you gasp.

He starts thrusting himself up into your pussy while his finger worked its way in and out of your tightest hole, your slick and Joel’s cum sufficiently lubing you up.

His finger moved faster as his hips bucked up against yours. You start to roll your hips in rhythm with his and you’re about to cum again.

Joel feels you clench around him and he knows you’re close. He starts fucking you especially hard, loving the way you were bouncing on his cock.

His finger pulls out of you and he grabs your hips with both hands for more force and then you’re screaming his name as you cum hard.

Close behind, Joel groans as he shoots his load into you again. His hands start to loosen on your hips, his dick starting to finally soften inside you. Your anger has faded, your stomach no longer burning with feral need.

Joel pulled you back against his chest again as he came to his senses. “Did I hurt you?” He spoke softly, cock flexing, still in your pussy.

You hum a sigh, tired. “No. I mean… yes. But it didn’t hurt in a way that I didn’t like.”

“Alright.” He wraps his arms around your waist, hands splaying out over your belly.

“This okay?” He asks after a moment, nose tracing circles in the soft spot behind your ear.

“Yeah… I-“ you take a breath. “I think I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile.”

Joel laughs quietly. “You ‘think’? Whaddya mean?”

You shake your head, smacking his arm lightly. “I just didn’t want to admit to myself that I had a crush on you. So I played up the sass a bit.”

“Ahh, okay.” He hums.

“Like you didn’t? You tease me all the fucking time, Joel.”

He nods, breath ghosting over your neck, causing goosebumps to raise there. “And I know you love it.”

————————————————————————

Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle

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oh-my-damn · 2 months

Text

Internal Scars

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav/reader

Summary: You and Astarion spend the night together for the first time, but when he finds the concept of cuddling absolutely ludicrous, you finally start to crack the ice barrier that surrounds his heart.

Wordcount: 2400

Warnings: Smut (piv, unprotected sex, dirtytalk, explicit sexual descriptions), angst, fluff.

Masterlist

The forest fills with the sound of skin slapping against each other, your mewling moans bouncing off the trees surrounding the clearing you're in.

Astarion's grunts are loud and animalistic, only getting more guttural the harder he fucks you.

"That's it," he groans, "Gods, there you go, tightening around me. You going to come for me again, you sweet, precious thing? Come on, give me one more and you're done, I promise."

You hiccup, your fingers digging into the forest floor under you. Your knees are sore from the position, your entire body jolting every time he pushes inside you. His size alone would be enough to send you spiraling over the edge, it aches in the best way inside you.

Your cheek is smushed in the grass as Astarion takes you from behind, his cold fingers digging into your hips each time he drags you back to take another of his forceful thrusts.

You cry out when his pace picks up, wailing loudly when cold, nimble fingers find their way to your sensitive button, circling the nerve in rapid succession.

"Come for me," Astarion growls into your ear, his firm body draped over your back as he ruts into you, "One more time and you're done, just need to feel it one more time. Come on, my sweet. Let go for me."

You cry out when your orgasm crashes into you, your walls spasming and clamping down on his cock as it spears you open. Astarion groans deeply, his hips stuttering and thrusts turning sloppy as he fucks you through your orgasm.

But your vice-like grip is too much for his resolve, his own release hurdling towards him. He grunts, a sound that turns into a whimper when he finally comes undone, pushing his hips against yours to bury himself as deep as possible inside you, his warm seed spilling against your walls.

He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, briefly dropping his head on the back of your shoulder while you yourself let out raggedy breaths to steady the rapid beating of your heart.

He slowly moves back, doing his best to be gentle when he pulls out of you. You whimper quietly from sensitivity, collapsing onto the ground, your body flushed and warm from the entire ordeal.

Astarion slumps on the ground beside you, his crimson eyes watching you intently as you lie with your own closed, trying to catch your breath.

He carefully reaches out, letting his cold palm travel down your back to feel your warmth, momentarily cupping the flesh of your ass. But as quick as his touch is, as quickly he retrieves it, turning onto his back to look up at the sky above.

"That was wonderful, love," he says, his tone perfectly controlled, no longer affected by lust, "I hope I lived up to your expectations."

You don't fully process his words, still focusing on gaining your bearings after the three orgasms he just wrought out of your body. But then your eyes open when you hear stirring beside you.

"Oh.. You're not staying?"

Disappointment lace your words, watching how Astarion gets up, his back turned towards you. You take this fleeting moment to watch him, shifting to lay on your side while you study every curve and mark on his body. The arch in his back, the plumpness of his ass, how muscles move in his shoulders and arms when he stretches.

You try to ignore the curiosity building when you notice the intricate marks on his back, a feeling gnawing at your thoughts that whatever it is, it doesn't look like he enjoyed getting them.

Astarion chuckles shortly, tilting his head back to let the morning sun bathe his beautiful face, "What, looking for a cuddle?"

You hesitate at the question, your brows furrowing shortly. You figured a cuddle would have been almost fair to expect after what just transpired between the two of you, but perhaps you were wrong.

You glance down, suddenly feeling very exposed as you lie in the grass with nothing covering you, feeling a bit stupid for thinking this could have been anything more than carnal pleasure.

Astarion notices your silence which makes him look over his shoulder at you, his face softening slightly when he spots the expression on your face. The slight furrow of your brows, the way your bottom lip is protruding in a small pout, how your eyes are locked on the grass in front of you..

It makes his heart ache. Although he's unsure why that is, and he's not certain he wants to learn the answer.

But despite his better judgement, he turns around to face you.

"Apologies, darling. But cuddling isn't quite my forte."

Then he hesitates, lifting a brow while he studies the look on your face. He recognizes that look, and it worries him slightly, "However, you did enjoy yourself, didn't you? I.. satisfied you?"

His brows furrow slightly while he awaits your response, watching as you nod slowly. Your eyes lift to meet his, and he recognizes the vulnerability in them immediately, making his breath hitch quietly.

"Yeah, I did, of course.. It was nice – it was incredible, actually – but I just.."

He tilts his head, waiting for you to finish speaking, carefully taking in how your lips part when you let out a quiet breath.

"It felt like you weren't all there. And I'm not used to.. The lack of intimacy. That's new for me."

Astarion's brows raise in surprise, placing one hand on his hip, "Lack of intimacy? What on earth do you mean, my dear? I just spent all night buried inside you. How could there possibly be a lack of intimacy when we just spent hours being intimate?"

You blink in confusion, your brows pulling into a frown. You do your best to ignore his naked form, choosing instead to focus on his scarlet eyes, "Having sex doesn't equal being intimate."

He scoffs at your words, shaking his head as he lets out an amused chuckle, "No? What else on earth could it mean to be intimate, then? I thought this was what you wanted. A night full of audacious pleasure, isn't that what you came here for?"

Your eyes widen in alarm, and you quickly stand up to face him better, the both of you still naked as the day you were born.

"I.. I didn't just come here for carnal pleasure, Astarion. Do you think I just came here to use your body?"

Astarion's expression freezes in surprise, your words stunning him. You both stand there for a moment, watching each other, the look on his face telling you that he's trying to process your words. Then his stance changes, like a mask covering the true face of someone.

"Well of course, darling," he replies, gesturing with his right hand, "Isn't that what we all desire? Our fantasies lived out, fulfilled, pleasure consuming us. That's all we can truly hope for, isn't it?"

Your head tilts slightly as you stay quiet, choosing to watch his expression rather than reply. Is that what he truly thinks? Not just of you but of himself?

Your silence unnerves him, prompting him to speak again, "I gave you what you wanted, did I not? I made you come, more than once if I recall, I clearly satisfied you. I did what you wanted."

"What I wanted?" You take a step closer, your expression now laced in worry as you look at him, "What do you mean? Did you.. Did you just do it for me? Did you not want this?"

You immediately notice how his body language changes. His stance falters, and his expression falls slightly, clearly feeling visibly uncomfortable. Then his voice softens, those crimson eyes moving over your face slowly before finally connecting with yours.

"I.. I didn't know what I wanted was a matter you cared about."

"Astarion," you whisper, stepping forward once again, now close enough to reach out and touch him. Your eyes stay locked on his, but you refrain from reaching for him, "I would never want you to do anything you wouldn't want to do. I thought we both wanted this, I.. I thought you wanted to be with me. Did you not want any of this? Did you not enjoy yourself?"

He lets out a reluctant sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground, "I.. Yes.. Well, I did enjoy it, obviously." He glances up at you, his expression more vulnerable than you've ever seen since the two of you met, "But perhaps I did it more for your sake than my own."

You breathe in sharply, your expression now entirely worrisome, "I'm.. I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to do that."

He blinks in surprise, his lips parting but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you ramble on, "I'm so sorry, oh my gods.. I never meant to pressure you, I thought.. I really thought you wanted it as well, oh by Mysta's grace, how could I have been so wrong?"

You turn around, covering your face in your hands as you take deep breaths to try and keep the tears at bay at the realization that you basically forced yourself on him, your voice cracking, "I can't believe I did this."

Astarion stands there, dumbfounded for a moment, watching your back until he hears sniffles coming from you. His heart breaks a little inside, a feeling that is entirely unfamiliar after decades of feeling nothing but pain and hatred and despise. He steps closer, carefully reaching out to place his palm on your shoulder blade.

"Darling, it's all right, I'm-"

"It's not all right!" You exclaim in response, turning towards him with tears in your eyes, "I took advantage of you – I forced myself on you! I should have known you didn't want it! I should have been able to tell!"

He shakes his head, offering you a sad smile, "No sweet thing, truly you shouldn't. You couldn't have known. Hiding my wants and needs is something I have done for so long, it has become an art form. There's no way you could have known."

Your sad eyes look up at him, tiny sniffles leaving you, "What.. What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," he says, gentle hands sliding up your arms to comfort you, "Is that my body hasn't been my own for centuries. I forgot, I suppose, that I no longer have to do anything I do not truly desire. I just.. I wanted you to like me. I wanted you to want me to stick around, I wanted you to be willing to let me stay. I need your protection.."

He trails off, and you blink a few tears away as you watch him.

"Astarion, I would have wanted you to stay no matter what had happened tonight. I do like you, I did so even before this. I would never want you to.. To be with me like that if you didn't truly want it.."

"I did enjoy myself," he replies with a small smile, watching you intensely, "More than I expected to, even. I know you felt the.. Effect, you had on me. But the.. Motivation, of spending this time together, was perhaps skewered from what it should have been."

You nod in understanding, reaching up to brush a few tears off your cheek, "I understand.. I'm sorry you felt like you needed to do that.. You don't need to do anything you don't want to, with me. I just want you to be happy."

"Happy?" Astarion whispers, his gaze softening as he takes you in, "Do you mean that? You truly want me to be happy?"

You nod again, now finally tuning in to how his fingers are still gently caressing your arms, how his gaze looks soft, turning into something more.. adoring, than it has been in the past.

"I want you to have anything you want, I want you to be able to choose any life you want. I want you to be able to make your own choices and decisions."

Astarion smiles lovingly, reaching up to cup your cheek. The action takes you aback; this touch is gentler than you've been used to, it feels different than his touches did last night. His thumb strokes the apple of your cheek, while he leans down until his forehead rests against yours.

"I think I would like to try being happy."

You lean into him a little, your movements careful and gentle as you press your palms to his chest. You keep your voice a low whisper, "I want to help you find out what that means, for you. Whatever it is, I want to be there for you."

Astarion stays quiet for a beat, foreign emotions flooding him at your admission. It's been so long since anyone cared about him, cared about what he wanted. To hear those words coming from you shocks him most of all.

"Even though I tried to kill you when we first met?"

You let out a surprised chuckle, nodding, "Yes, even though you held me at knifepoint."

He chuckles with you, his eyes meeting yours when you tilt your head back to look up at him. Your smile is soft, gentle, and it makes something unfamiliar stir inside him.

Then those scarlet eyes of his trail down your naked form, making your skin heat all over again.

"You truly are a stunning creature, I hope you realize that. Even if my intentions weren't entirely pure, please do not think I did not want to be with you. It was a pleasure, to say the very least."

You let out a nervous chuckle, biting down on your bottom lip shyly when his eyes lift to meet yours again. Then you whisper, "Can I hold you?"

Astarion hesitates, his eyes searching yours uncertainly, but then he ultimately nods. You take a deep breath, his summery scent flooding you as you step into his personal space, pressing your naked front against his. You carefully wrap your arms around him, hugging him close, and he mirrors your action, his arms wrapping you close to him.

Your cheek rests against his chest while he buries his face in your neck, and as he breathes in deeply you whisper, "I promise to be there for you until the day you no longer need me."

His arms hug you a little tighter, almost desperately squeezing you when he whispers back, "I'm no longer sure if that'll ever happen."

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion smut #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fic #bg3 fic #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #astarion fanfic

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soullessdianthus · 9 months

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During your stop at the abandoned building a shootout with the enemy begins. You cross your paths with injured König who needs your help.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

A/N: I'm here to feed you all, because you asked so nicely. ♡ This part contains POV of the Reader and König's. Also, starring Gaz, he deserves more recognition! Y/C ━ Your Codename Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: dark humor, reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood & injuries, mentions of unalived bodies, sexual pictures taken, perv!König?

Word count: 3.2k oops

The night had fallen quickly. Faster than one might have thought. During the sunset, when the crickets hidden in the tall grass were the only sound, the manhunt began.

Task Force 141 and KorTac had to stay for the night at the abandoned factory of sorts, near the forest bordering the village and Austrian mountains – a fortress with many rooms, staircases, exits.

You were slowly getting ready for the confrontation with the terrorist group, the one you’ve been “tracking” for the last couple of days. You sat on the second floor, cleaning your M4 rifle while listening to another story of Gaz. Some of the KorTac soldiers were also following the Britishman's captivating telltales. It was then when you heard the first report of strangers passing by through the radio. Then you heard the shooting.

Everything happened quickly, the situation was getting worse and progressing too fast. How could they sneak up on you like that? The enemy came to you first, this shouldn't have happened.

You stuck to Gaz as you gathered your weapons and began moving towards the staircase. The sounds of gunshots filled the building and the ground surrounding it. Your mind had to stay highly alert, focused on a few simple tasks – push forward, leave the factory and get to the cars. It seemed like there were too many enemy’s forces.

Well, at least that's what you thought, so it was hard to estimate the numbers.

It wasn’t possible to count the time that had passed since you gathered your rifle and followed Gaz’s lead. With his help and the Captain's instructions you managed to get to the ground floor, two of KorTac soldiers joined you on the way.

Three bodies lay limp in a puddle of blood underneath them, corpse’s hand gripping their rifles tightly. You took a quick look at their vests, or rather lack of them, and only then you were sure.

━ He hired mercenaries. ━ You stated quietly to your companion, having in mind the man liable for the terrorist group, as Kyle carefully peeked through the closest corner.

━ Cannon fodder.

His harsh answer was followed by a dead silence. Even the crickets went quiet as something loomed in the air.

━ Gaz, Y/C, still on the way? ━ Ghost’s voice called out for the two of you through the radio.

━ Almost there, sir. ━ Dark skinned sergeant stated, having an eye on the meeting point ahead of him.

Gaz would take the right side of the van, two KorTac soldiers would worry about the left, while you had an eye on your backs. Seemed easy, seemed to be a quick job.

When all of you got closer to the vehicle, holding your weapons high and looking out for any danger, something rolled down on the ground. Almost like a metal bin got under the car’s chassis.

━ Grenade!

There was too little time to react. Your legs pushed off the ground with all of their strength, your body directed at the building. However, you weren’t fast enough. So were not your companions.

Explosion illuminated the area and the fire consumed the military van in its flames. The recoil threw you a few meters away from the place of outbreak, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The squeak.

That fucking squeak.

The agonizing sound was probably the only noise you could hear at the moment as you saw the tongues of fire dancing in the corner of your eye. Right then, your body was reacting and operating on its own.

Some barely palpable thuds made you realize you lied with your cheek in the gravel and dirt.

You didn’t know exactly when you grabbed the M4 into both hands or when you stood up on your shaking legs, slowly heading inside the building again. You cursed in your native language, when your head hurt like it would explode on its own.

There was an exchange of bullets somewhere near you, but still, dazed you couldn’t precisely determine – where and how close. You continued to run towards the building bent in half.

Then suddenly you felt a strong grip tightening around your vest’s strap on the shoulder. A pull so powerful that made you turn around and fall onto the brick wall behind your back.

━ Gaz? ━ You heard the ringing of your own voice, echoing inside of your eardrums. Wait, did you even say his name out loud? Maybe you just imagined you did?

When your back clung tightly against the cold wall (as much as it could, due to your gear), you tried to take a deep breath in.

First, then the second one. A cold, night breeze filled your nose. Only then you felt like you finally could think clearly again.

━ Stay close. We’re moving. ━ The strong accent helped you realize it was König who took you out of the ambush. Now that you knew that, everything made sense – the force he pulled you with? Yeah, the Austrian colonel was like a wild bear.

Quickly you checked your rifle and reloaded it. Your head nodded towards the colonel and he began clearing the way to the nearby staircase. You were going up again, side by side with an Austrian soldier. Well, that probably wasn’t the image of you that your grandparents had in mind.

You were supporting him from his behind, constantly checking the back. The adrenaline from the explosion made you feel painful tension in each limb. It felt like muscle sores after a rough day at the gym. Or sparring session with Ghost.

There was no option to go back and search for Gaz or two KorTac soldiers. If they survived the explosion, they probably escaped into the forest and were fine. Right?

With each powerful yet quiet step he took, another enemy’s soldier got terminated. With your help König cleared the pathway and led the two of you into a more secluded area. A room, your hideout.

You pushed some old, wooden furniture resembling a cabinet over the doors, so no one uninvited entered. You and the colonel had bored up to wait for the reinforcements. The hooded soldier took a peek through the cracked window as you squeezed the radio’s button.

━ Bravo 0-7, do you copy?

Thankfully the silence didn’t last long.

━ Y/C ━ Ghost spoke through the radio. Only you knew that he was in distress, because of his voice. Him and Price probably heard the blast from the other part of the building. ━ Fuckin’ Christ, what was that?

━ They blew up the car. Gaz and I got separated near the tree line, I don’t know where he is. ━ You explained as simply as possible. Eventually your eyes noticed the drops of blood on the old floor. It was fresh. Were you bleeding?

━ Where are you?

Your boyfriend’s voice ripped you out of the deep thoughts. And at that point you understood that it wasn’t you, who was bleeding.

━ In the left wing, second floor. Doors locked. Colonel König saved me from the fire. He’s with me.

Austrian man thanked the fucking heavens he had his face covered by the dark hood. Because the moment you called out his name, his heart skipped a beat. Your pretty eyes under the long eyelashes were locked on him.

━ Stay there until we arrive. Over and out.

When Ghost's voice vanished into thin air, there was a moment of silence between the two of you. He could feel how warm it got in there. Because it was a hot, summer night, right?

━ You’re bleeding ━ you acknowledged, pointing his left thigh. ━ It’s your happy day, colonel. You got stuck with a medic. Sit down and let me see.

Oh, it was a happy day for König for more than the reason he came across a medic while in need.

Because he came across you.

━ I don’t think it’s an emergency, schatz.

━ Your pants are soaked with blood. Let me see.

You put down the weapon and reached out to grab his. He obediently gave you his rifle and sat down near the wall, slowly sliding on its surface. When the emotions began to cool down, his mind began to race. How could he let that happen? How could he, the king, let the bullet of some mercenary damage him?

You kneeled next to the colonel and placed the “first-aid” bag on the floor. At first you tried to take a look at his wound, but a gap the size of a bullet was just too small.

━ I have to slightly incise the pants, I can’t see th–

━ Ja, it’s okay.

König said in a single breath, doing everything in his power not to stare at you for too long. But it was impossible. The way your hands gently inspected the wounded area. The same palms which not so long ago were squeezing the M4 rifle until the knuckles turned white. The same fingers that were holding a child so cautiously a few hours ago.

You grabbed the material of his beige pants and slightly tore the opening.

Unknowingly you tilted your head to the side, assessing the situation. König now knew that he was right. Your touch was as gentle as he had imagined it to be.

━ Hm, I won’t lie, this doesn’t look good ━ you retraced your hands from his leg and began preparing the essential tools. ━ The bullet didn’t hit the artery or veins, but it’s stuck in your muscle. I have to take it out and stop the bleeding, sir.

━ It’s alright, I’m in the good hands, ärztin.

━ I don’t know what that mean, sir. ━ You confessed, a polite smile twisting your dusted cheeks, when you heard unknown German word.

Did he make you blush or was he dreaming? If the colonel was a believer, he would swear to the God he saw you blushing.

━ A doctor. You’ll learn more German during our… ━ now it was him, searching the right word ━ cooperation, would you like that?

His blue eyes roamed over your expressions, changing during the seconds passing by. It was bold of him to ask, too fucking bold perhaps. But he had you within his reach, right under his nose. He couldn’t let you slip so easily.

━ That would be useful, thank you. Now, brace yourself. Take a breath in.

With a pair of gloves you dipped your pointing finger into the wound and scooped the bullet out in an impressive timing.

━ Scheiße! ━ Colonel cursed, clenching his teeth. During his military career he got shot, burned, bones broken, skin cut, hurt too many times to count. Nonetheless, it hurt like a bitch each time he got his wounds patched.

━ I know, I’m sorry, sir. I’m almost finishing.

You took a brand new packaging of gauze and unwrapped it. Swiftly, you inserted the sterile material into the shallow wound with your slender fingers, until the crimson liquid stopped pouring all over his thigh and crotch.

━ Don’t apologize, schatz. You’re doing a good job here.

It was a second, less perhaps, but you looked up at the colonel when he praised your work. And under that hood? He had the smuggest grin ever.

Finally, you tapped the outer side of his thigh, asking him to slightly raise the limb, so you could wrap a bandage around it. You leaned over his lap, two of your hands brushing against his massive legs.

The voices, the fucking voices, made of him a real disrupted man.

König had this impossibly stupid idea of sticking his head out just to get shot, so you could patch him up. You would be his favorite nurse and caretaker. If you happened to find yourself in his arms, we would never let you go.

━ All done. There’s no need to cut the leg off, sir. ━ You jokingly said, leaning back on your knees. The dark humor and sarcastic jokes were your favorite.

His thigh was bandaged, the bleeding stopped, but he needed a stiching, which you could not perform in the middle of a shooting scene. The big man will survive until then.

━ Oh, that’s a good news, doctor. Thank you.

His bright eyes loomed over your figure – neatly sitting on your own knees, clean hands (as you took the bloodied gloves off) resting on the thighs, head facing him. A single strand of your hair that slipped from the braid was stuck to your slightly sweaty forehead.

━ Come here ━ he told you, curling his pointing and middle finger in your direction. The gesture itself meant he wanted you to come closer. So you did, barely narrowing your brows. ━ You have soot all over your face. ━ His giant palm reached your cheek and rubbed the dust and dirt away.

König was used to most of his colleges, if not all of them, being much smaller than him. But it was the size difference between you and him that had his stomach curling with excitement.

━ Danke [ger.: thanks].

━ Bitte [ger.: please].

The moment you two shared was interrupted by the loud steps coming towards the room you’ve been hiding. Without second thoughts, you helped the big bear stand up and handed him a rifle. You quickly pointed at the door and you waited.

You sucked a breath in. Hold.

━ Y/C!

━ Here, sir! ━ You stated, releasing the air with a loud sigh.

The familiar voice of Captain Price eased the tension. There was no need to continue fighting. Both you and König lowered the weapons and the colonel moved the cabinet aside allowing the team to open the doors.

And there was a group of your saviors – Price and lieutenant Riley at the front. Few soldiers in dark suits followed behind them.

Captain of TF 141 moved aside to allow you to leave the small, secluded area. All of you gathered in the corridor, before leaving the building.

━ Thanks for saving our girl. ━ Price said in a lower tone to the colonel. To the Austrian man who outstanded everyone else in the room.

━ We’re a team on this one, aren’t we?

König’s blue eyes met the cold, death stare of lieutenant Riley. It didn’t sit right with Britishman that he was alone with her. With his girl. Simon didn’t care about the context of the situation, he had a childish problem with the colonel of KorTac himself. It was about his attitude towards you.

Perhaps you didn’t notice that and if you did, you saw nothing bad in König’s behavior. But the lieutenant did and it gave him weird feelings.

━ Is Gaz okay? ━ You asked Ghost full of concerns, because Kyle wasn’t present with the rest of the team.

━ Slightly cooked, but he’ll be fine.

“Shit” you thought. First, there was a little accident involving Soap and broken ribs and now poor, smoked Gaz. Your teammates hadn’t have much luck lately.

Perhaps, if not König saving your ass, you’d be wounded badly too.

━ Medevac took care of him ━ Price meddled between you and lieutenant, wanting all of you to gather up and move. ━ We’re headin’ back to regroup, those bastards are gettin’ on my nerves. Also, Laswell’s on the line, waitin’ for report.

His statement was followed by a quick ‘yes, sir’ and the group of survivors moved through the now secured area. König talked with one of his sergeants, trying to assess how many people he lost that day.

Ghost was right behind you all this time, almost like a shadow you cast yourself. But you loved your grumpy shadow with your whole heart.

Without any more issues you got to the untouched by the gunfire cars and left the abandoned factory behind. You took the last glimpse at the building and the lifeless bodies laying around the area through the vehicle’s window.

It was ironic, as a medic you were supposed to save lives, not to end them. And yet, you were surrounded by bones and corpses.

When you came back to the base – a part of the building KorTac company lent to Task Force 141, most of you were dismissed to get some rest before the departure at noon. But not the colonel of KorTac.

The Austrian man visited the doctor who stitched his wound up. Medic praised how well the bleeding was stopped, but König wasn’t surprised at all – he saw how skillful your hands were.

Only if he could feel them on his skin again. Such delicate fingertips sneaking under his shirt, running over his muscles and old scars. But for now, it was only his imagination giving him the wrong ideas.

You were taken, ja? It was wrong to want you for himself.

After the stitching, he had to fill out some documents for his superiors – those on a computer and on paper. It wasn’t much, but it took around an hour or hour and a half. When he was finally done, König walked through the empty hallways towards his own quarters.

He locked the room from the inside and neatly put his combat shoes near the entrance. At least he could have some rest. Or so he thought.

His phone’s screen illuminated the dark room as a notification popped up. The number was unknown. But the moment König tapped with his finger to read the message, he instantly knew who it was from.

His stomach dropped and his jaw slightly opened. The message was a picture with a signature saying “see, how well she’s taken care of?”.

The photo was a visual of your bare upper half pressed against the masculine torso in the way that covered most of your breasts. Your hand was splayed over Ghost’s chest as his muscular arm hugged you from behind, pulling closer. In bed.

The frame did not catch the lieutenant's face at all, but it showed your flushed (or maybe rather: fucked out) face and eyes pressed shut. You still had the remains of dirt on your face, that’s why König knew it’s a recent photo.

The Colonel could not help, but feel how his pants got uncomfortably tighter than before as he sat down on his bed.

König felt the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears and he pulled the hem of his hood over his nose. He had to breathe. “Take a deep breath, soldat” he kept telling himself.

But his hand unbuckled the belt and trousers on its own and when his heavy cock sprung free from its confinement, König knew there was no way he could stop now.

He began to pump his fist fast, biting on his lower lip, blue eyes glued to the dirty picture of you on his phone. The Austrian man would never get rid of that photo. Never.

Oh, how he wished it was you who helped him calm down after such a mission.

Ghost could never imagine that his text message would bring the opposite outcome of what he intended – to scare the colonel away.

It only fed König's delusions.

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A/N: Obviously the ending was heavily inspired by this imagine → | X |, although I planned it to be a picture before. I can't get enough of perv!König and protective!Ghost. OhmyLord~ Thank you for all your notes, reblogs and nice comments! It means a lot to me! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#reader insert #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #könig cod #konig cod #konig #könig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #simon riley x reader

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