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holylulusworld · 25 days

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Gun for hire (1)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, being followed, sunshine reader

Gun for hire (Prologue)

Gun for hire masterlist

Lloyd curses himself once again.

He still didn’t get his money. His newest client is an annoying piece of shit. And on top of the pile of shit, this assignment turned into, the exotic beard wax he wanted to order was sold out.

In other words. Lloyd Hansen is fucking livid.

This doesn’t keep him from following his latest target around town.

So far you went to work, bought a muffin on your way to the library, and talked to the librarian for half an hour.

Lloyd yawns, bored beyond belief. He never followed such a boring person. Most of the people he killed were criminals, or at least interesting. You’re just…too nice.

You made it your mission to visit the elderly librarian every day after work to make sure she gets her extra portion of sugar – hence the muffin you bought. Plus, you try to make her feel needed by asking questions about books you already read.

He’s close to calling it a day when a man walks past you and the librarian. The man bumps into your side and has the guts to yell at you.

Lloyd pokes his head around the shelf he is hiding behind to watch you smile at the man. He can’t believe that you smile at a man yelling at you not moments ago.

“Crazy,” he concludes but decides to watch you for a little longer. Assignment or not, he’s got nothing better to do today.

“Sir,” you carefully pat the man’s arm while you speak to him in a low, but soft tone. “Your day must have been hard.” You batt your eyelashes, and smile again. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been so rude, right?”

The man suddenly smiles and apologizes repeatedly. The man’s whole demeanor changed so suddenly Lloyd could not believe his eyes.

“Drugs maybe…or a hidden gun?” Lloyd wonders. No man ever changed their opinion so fast without being under the influence of drugs, or in danger. “That woman must be the devil in disguise or something. She must be more dangerous than I first thought.”

“Come on, do something more exciting,” Lloyd grunts as your daily routine drives him up the walls. He looks at his notes again and sighs deeply.

He rereads his notes and tries to find new information.

“Work. Buying something sweet for Grace, the elderly librarian. Talking to said librarian for half an hour. Going home. Watching TV.”

This is not how imagined his Friday night would look like. He wanted to spend it at his favorite strip club, a pretty girl’s mouth wrapped around his dick.

“She’s so…” he rubs his tired eyes, “boring. I can’t believe someone wants to kill her.” Lloyd ignores the kink in his neck and his burning eyes, or the fact that he’s watching you giggle at something your elderly neighbor said. “I hate her so much.”

He could just end your life or call it a day, but he keeps on watching you smile and giggle. “She’s a fucking ray of sunshine. What the fuck!”

Lloyd shakes his head. Today someone spilled coffee all over your pretty sundress. Your boss yelled at you. And you lost your phone.

Nothing seems to ruin your mood. You are still laughing and joking with your neighbor.

“I should just go over there and kill them both. Less headache for me – a house and a car for my client,” Lloyd is tempted to get his gun and silencer out to shoot you and your neighbor. “Maybe later. I need to unlock her phone first…”

Lloyd rolls his eyes while scrolling through your phone. There are mostly pictures of bees, flowers, and cake on your phone. No interesting or naughty stuff.

“This woman can’t be real. She buys sweets for the librarian; cooks soup for her sick neighbor and has a fucking insect hotel on her veranda. She’s crazy…this must be it.”

He nods to himself. “I need to find out more about her. Maybe some files are password-protected. I know she’s hiding shit from me.”

“Boss, it’s two weeks,” one of Lloyd’s men dares to say. “He didn’t pay.” The man clears his throat. “The woman is still alive too. What is your plan?”

“I need to find out more about her,” Lloyd grunts. He doesn’t need one of his bootlickers to sniff around and find out Lloyd is following you because he’s fascinated and a little grossed out by your bubbly personality.

Your friendliness is hard to stomach, and he wants to find at least one thing you try to hide before he kills you.

“Boss, he didn’t pay,” the man insists. “We don’t work for free. That’s rule number—” A gunshot ends the man’s life.

“Rule number four is to never doubt me and my decisions,” Lloyd sneers at the dead man on the ground. He snaps his fingers at one of the others. “Clean this up. I got a job to do.”

“Boss…” the man nods and goes to work.

“And bring me her boyfriend. He broke our contract and didn’t pay me a single buck. I want to know why he believes he can fuck with Lloyd fucking Hansen.”

“What are you doing at my house?” You take a step back. A stranger is standing in your living room, a gun with a silencer aimed at your head. “Oh…Tommie.” You shake your head and sigh. “He’s such an unhappy man.”

Lloyd cocks a brow at your reaction. You don’t scream or beg. Instead, you are concerned about your ex-boyfriend.

“He doesn’t have the money to pay me back for the house and car,” you conclude and nod to yourself. “But he has the money to pay you?”

You take a step toward Lloyd, taking him by surprise. He backpaddles and aims his gun back at you.

“You don’t look like a guy he found on the street and paid him twenty bucks. You look like a…” You tilt your head to look the man in front of you up and down, “professional.”

“Sorry, but you got to go…” He murmurs, wondering a little about his words. It’s the first time he said more to a target than hello and goodbye.

“Uh-okay,” you wring your hands. “I just ordered takeout. Can I eat it before you kill me?” You cock a brow. “You know, the whole last meal thing and stuff. I got dessert too. Please don’t let me die hungry.”

Lloyd is stunned. No target ever accepted their fate without fighting back. Most of them at least begged and pleaded or offered more money.

“You can have some dessert too,” you softly say. “I guess in your line of business you don’t often get invited.” You giggle. “You know, because you kill all of your clients.”

“I don’t kill my clients,” he sighs. “Fine, have your last meal. You are giving me a fucking headache, sunshine.”

“Aw, that’s a cute nickname,” you point out. “Do you call your girlfriend that too?” You ask while walking past Lloyd. “I’m going to eat now. Please don’t shoot me before I finish my meal.”

“Just shut up,” he grunts and follows you inside the kitchen. “Why are you not screaming or throwing a tantrum?”

You shrug. “We all must die one day. Right?” Watching Lloyd, you smile. “Please don’t shoot me in the face. Someone must identify me, and I don’t want them to see me like that.”

“You always think about others first.”

He watches you prepare two plates of food. You watch him watching you. He cocks a brow, believing you will try to trick him. “It’s not poisoned. I’ll eat it too.”

“Do you want to sort things out first?”

“I got everything sorted out,” you smile. “I’m just worried about my neighbor and the stray cat I feed. They are both old and need help.”

Lloyd shakes his head. “You must be crazy thinking about others while a stranger threatens to kill you.”

“I thought you wanted to kill me, not just threaten me,” you round the counter to place a plate close to him. “I didn’t take you for someone making empty promises.” You run your fingertips over the hand holding the gun and smile. “Right. Mr.…?”

“Lloyd,” he says and drops his eyes to your finger running over his hand. “Are you flirting with me?”

You look him straight in the eyes and smile. “Why would I flirt with my executioner?”

Gun for hire (2)

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #Gun for hire (1)#x reader

158 notes · View notes

a-killer-obsession · 1 month

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Valentines Day Special '24 [Killer x Reader]

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

Hidden feelings lead to late night confessions.

CW: fluff and smut, oral sex, face-fucking, vaginal sex, afab reader

WC: 4401

Masterlist || AO3

To say you were grumpy today was an understatement. It had been just over a month since the Victoria Punk had docked at an island with a population, therefore it'd been just over a month since you'd gotten laid. It's not like you were the only one feeling antsy, after three uninhabited islands in a row the whole crew was anxious to get their dicks wet. A few of the other girls on the ship, like Quincy, had regular fuck buddies, but unfortunately you didn't. There was only one man on the ship you had your eye on, and he seemed as far from interested in you as possible, you'd probably have better luck seducing a seaking. To top it all off - it was Valentine's Day. The icing on the horny cake, if there was any day you should be getting laid, it should be today.

You sighed and looked over the deck. The aforementioned man you had your eye on was making his usual quick, silent strides across the deck, his long blond mane fluttering behind him as he walked alongside the Captain. His shirts always seemed too small for his heavily muscled frame and you could swear sometimes that it was some sort of divine punishment for you specifically. Gods you would do anything to rip off that stretched shirt and run your tongue over the muscles hidden underneath.

You must have been staring for a little too long because the masked man turned and looked at you midstride, he probably felt your eyes burning holes in his clothes while you thought about undressing him. You quickly looked away, pretending you were just looking at the open waters behind him. It probably wasn't subtle, and it definitely wasn't the first time he'd caught you ogling him. If he had any inclination to fuck you he would have done it by now, because surely it was clear by the sheer number of times you'd been caught eye-fucking him that you wanted him. Alas, he'd never even mentioned it, never made any comment that gave you any hint as to whether he returned the attraction, or was uncomfortable with your staring. You turned back to the railing behind you, groaning in frustration and leaning against it.

“Kid wants to know why you were acting like such a pent up bitch at dinner,” a smooth baritone voice suddenly came from behind you. You squeaked in surprise and almost threw your book overboard from where you were sitting cross legged on the figurehead of the ship.

“Jesus fucking christ Killer, we need to put a fucking bell on you,” you turned your torso and smacked him on top of his mask with your book. Considering how big he was, it was a playful gesture - you could never hurt the giant of a man.

“Sorry,” he said with little emotion.

“You can tell Kid I was acting like a pent up bitch because I am a pent up bitch,” you grumbled, spinning on your ass to face him properly, “when are we getting to an island with a decent town? I'm going to fucking implode if I don't get laid soon, even Heat is starting to look tempting at this point”

“ Everyone is pent up,” he added, “but you were acting particularly bitchy today”

“Yeah, well, none of you brutes could appreciate a romantic holiday like Valentine's Day,” you pouted, “usually by now I'd have a line of men kneeling at my feet begging to fuck me, roses and chocolates in hand. This fucking sucks”

“Oh, that's today?” He mused, “I didn't realise you cared, I didn't think anyone on this ship cared. Anyway if Heat is looking so ‘tempting’ why don't you just go jump him?”

“Because, Killer my sweet masked giant,” you patted him on the chest as you slid off the figurehead, “there's only one man on this ship I'm interested in fucking and I don't think he has a single molecule of interest in me. But hey, that's what vibrators are for”

He grabbed your wrist as you walked past and looked at you. You didn't turn to look back at him, the gesture was almost painful. Not physically, but emotionally. He knew full well you were talking about him, and he felt bad about it. “Killer, it's fine, you don't have to feel sorry for me. I'll get over it.” He let go when you tried to shake him off, and let you walk away without another word.

In truth, you weren't sure if you would get over it. Till now a lot of what you thought you felt for Killer was just physical. It wasn't till he grabbed your wrist that you realised just how badly you craved his touch, how much you just wanted to be held by him. You'd rushed back to your room as fast as you could as tears pricked your eyes, realising that he would likely never return the feelings. Hell, you didn't even know what he looked like under the mask, he didn't trust you enough to show you, how could you ever expect him to open his heart to you? It hurt, this Valentine's Day really fucking sucked. And to make matters worse, your trusty vibrator died before you could cum. Thanks to the stupid, stupid fucking feelings you couldn't get there and in the end even your toy had given up on you. How depressing.

It must have been past midnight by now, at least V day was over, as miserable as it had been. You decided to go get a snack after your self-fuck-athon, maybe you'd get lucky and find something sweet so you could at least eat your feelings. You didn't bother to put on pants, opting to just throw a satin dressing gown over your negligee before heading barefooted to the kitchen. It was warm enough anyway, the ship must be coming close to a summer island. That made you hopeful, summer islands were often tourist hot spots, ripe with hot, horny men.

You were surprised to find the kitchen light on, only commanders were allowed in there outside of meal preparation hours and you were sure you were the only one midnight snack inclined, except for Heat of course who would get the munchies often after smoking pot. But he was on nightwatch, there's no way he'd be in the kitchen. You were even more surprised to hear a deep, angry “ fuck ” and the sound of something metal being dropped as you approached the door.

You opened it to find Killer, standing at the sink running his hand under a cool stream of water - the swearing must have been him burning his hand. He looked in your direction only for a moment as you entered, before turning his attention back to his hand.

“You good, Kil?” You asked as you slid up beside him. You took his hand gently and inspected it, seeing that the burn looked small but deep. You weren't the ship's doctor but you helped out sometimes, being that you at least had some basic first aid knowledge. “Yikes, keep that under the water, I'll grab a dressing”

He did as he was told while you rummaged in the cupboards for the small first aid kit you insisted be kept in here in case of kitchen related incidents. Suck it, Kid, now who's idea is a waste of time? Point for [Y/N]! You retrieved a small gauze and some medical tape from the box - the burn needed to be dressed loosely so it could breathe, but be protected from anything that could cause infection. You ripped a few paper towels from the roll on the bench before turning off the tap and taking his hand gently again. He didn't protest, he knew you were in medical mode. You could get scary when someone refused medical care, scary even to a strong man like him.

You pat his hand dry and inspected it one last time before applying the gauze and taping it down, flexing his hand to make sure the tape wasn't too tight for his muscles to move. “Make sure you go see doc tomorrow about this,” you instructed as you let go of his hand and set about putting the tape away and throwing out the gauze packaging.

“Yes ma'am,” he grumbled, returning to whatever he'd been doing before while you opened the fridge to inspect its contents. The kitchen held other, more commercial style fridges, but this one was smaller, just for the commanders. It mostly held beer.

“Hungry?” He mused.

“Mmm,” you replied, closing the fridge with a disappointed sigh, “shit all in here though”

“Here,” he turned and held something out for you. A chocolate cupcake, not yet iced and still warm from the oven. He must have burnt his hand taking them out.

“You made… cupcakes?” You asked quizzically, looking at the small cake in your hand with confusion as you peeled away the paper lining. It was a weird thing for a big, tough guy like Killer to be making in the first place, let alone in the middle of the night. You took a bite, it was soft and warm and laced with chocolate chips. You almost purred at how delicious it was, even without icing. “KIL! THIS IS DELICIOUS!”

“Thanks,” he'd turned back to the rest of the cupcakes and was gingerly moving them to a cooling rack, “I uh… I made them for you. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

You paused mid bite, absolutely dumbfounded. He'd made cupcakes… for you? “What? Why?” You asked before taking another glorious bite.

“You're supposed to give chocolate on Valentine's right?” He explained shyly, “I know it's late, and it's not exactly a box of assorted artisan bonbons, but I figured at least chocolate flavoured would be something? I don't have any flowers, sorry”

You were absolutely shell shocked, frozen in silence, cupcake still in hand, just staring at him. He realised after a moment that you hadn't said anything and looked over his shoulder at you.

“Kil…” you sighed, “I don't… I don't understand”

He sighed and turned around, leaning against the bench behind him. He ran a hand down his mask in frustration - not at you, but at himself. Of course you didn't understand, you'd given him every opportunity to show he had feelings for you, and he'd thrown them all away.

“I… I thought, for the longest time, that you just wanted me… for sex,” he started to explain, staring at the floor, “but I… I wanted more, I didn't want to be just something physical with you. And I didn't think you wanted anything more than that, but…” he paused, his mask turning in your direction now, “I realised today that maybe that wasn't true, and I've hurt you by just ignoring it completely.”

You were sure what to say. The man had just confessed his feelings for you when you thought up until five minutes ago that you'd never have a chance with him. Hell, your eyes were probably still puffy from crying about it. And now you were standing here, home baked cupcake in hand, made specifically for you, and a confession swimming in your mind. Your brain felt fried.

“I…” you couldn't form a complete sentence, you were overwhelmed. You probably would have just said fuck it and kissed him, but the stupid mask was in the way, so you just awkwardly put your cupcake on the bench. You'd intended to turn to him after putting it down, but you found yourself stuck staring at the granite.

A hesitant hand slid across the counter to where yours still laid after putting the cupcake down, and he took your hand in his. “Please say something,” he almost whispered.

“Sorry I just…” you took a deep breath and a small laugh escaped you, “to be honest Killer, I just spent the evening crying over you, and now you confess these feelings I never thought were possible and bake me cupcakes and I… I'm just really overwhelmed, sorry”

“I made you cry?” He whispered, sliding a little closer and squeezing your hand, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to”

“I know, Kil,” you forced a smile for him, looking where you guessed his eyes were, “I know.”

He slid closer, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pressing his mask into the crook of your neck. You rested your head against it and sighed, pressing into the hug and squeezing his hand back reassuringly. Gods he was so close, and he smelt so fucking good, like musk and vanilla and cardamom, a rush of electricity sparked down to between your legs, you wanted to fucking devour him.

“Fuck this,” you announced, suddenly over the tender moment when you remembered how fucking down bad you were. If the others weren't awake yet then maybe it was still technically Valentine's Day, the day wasn't entirely lost. You grabbed his hand firmly and dragged him behind you as you left the kitchen. He came willingly, albeit a bit confused, as you led him towards your room. He paused in his stride when he realised where you were taking him.

“What?” You said, frustrated as you looked at him. He was far too big for you to lead if he wasn't willing.

“Uh,” he seemed nervous, “we should go to my room. My bed is bigger”

“ Oh,” you replied. Oh he was willing, apparently he had the same thing on his mind if he was making the suggestion. “Okay then, lead the way”

He hesitated for a moment before gaining a sudden burst of confidence and grabbing you, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. “Oi!” You complained. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it in response, and you squealed excitedly, if you weren't wet before you were definitely wet now as the man you'd been fantasizing about for months carried you to his bed.

He opened the door and immediately threw you on the bed, before turning and locking the door behind him. His chest was heaving as he looked at you and his pants sported a clear bulge. He looked big, even through his pants, and you swallowed heavily as your eyes ran up and down him. He was doing the same to you, his mask tilting up and down oh so slightly as he undressed you in his mind.

You moved to the edge of the bed, kneeling, and beckoned to him with one finger and a sly smirk. He wasted no time ripping off his shirt and coming to the side of the bed, and your hands were all over him as fast as you could move them. “Fuck I've thought about this a million times,” you said before licking a long stripe up his abdomen, from the top of his blond snail trail to his collar bone, where you sucked and nipped before moving to his neck. He grunted under the mask, and one of your hands slid down his chest to rest over his groin, palming his bulge.

His hips moved of their own accord, pressing his eager dick into your hand. You took the hint and brought your other hand down while you continued to kiss and suck his neck and trapezius, unfastening his jeans and pushing them down along with his boxers enough to let his large erection spring free. You paused your devouring to admire it, thick and veiny, the pink tip already leaking precum. A wide grin spread over your face, you knew this man would not disappoint you with girth like that. You bet he knew how to use it too.

“Like what you see?” He mused, running a hand through your hair, tugging a little in an obvious hint.

“I do,” you purred, sliding your knees further back on the bed so you could lower your torso, bringing your face level with his hard cock. You looked up at him as your tongue met his tip, swirling around it before running a stripe along the underside. He groaned and pulled at your hair. “Use your words, Killer,” you cooed.

“Fuck [Y/N], suck it or I'm gonna fucking die,” he growled, pulling your hair harder.

You smirked and he moaned under the mask as you finally took him in your mouth. The girth pushed your lips to their limits, stretching your muscles almost painfully as you wrapped both hands around the base to pump what wasn't currently in your mouth. You started a slow, firm rhythm, moving your hands in the opposite direction to your head, meeting in the middle. His hips jerked and his dick slid deeper in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat before he suddenly pulled back.

“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbled.

“It's okay baby,” you purred, before taking him in your mouth again, the whole way this time. His eyes widened under the mask as your nose met his blond pubes, your eyes still looking up at him. You held him there for a moment, running your tongue along his underside, before sliding back and letting him go with a pop.

“ Fuck,” he gasped, “you don't have a gag reflex?”

“Lost it in the war,” you winked, “you can be rough with me if you want”

You opened your mouth invitingly, sticking out your tongue, your hands running over his thighs. He eagerly took the invitation and shoved his dick in your mouth unceremoniously, grabbing your head with both hands to hold it still as he started to thrust. Slowly at first, but as he realised you really could take it he moved faster, using your throat like a cock sleeve. His moans as he used you made you unbelievably wet, you loved looking up and seeing him looking down at you, watching his cock disappear in your mouth while he fucked it.

“Fuck… fuck,” he grunted before his thrusts stopped suddenly, his cock deep in your throat as his hot load spilled from it and slid straight down. You moaned around his dick in response, sucking your cheeks tight to milk every last drop from him, incredibly aroused as you watched him come undone, his head thrown back and his hands wound tight in your hair. He finally let you go, pulling your greedy mouth of his cock and throwing you further back on the bed.

“Hungry little slut,” he growled, reaching for the strap that held his mask firmly on, “you're going to be the fucking death of me.” You heard the click of the latch and shivered with anticipation, eager to see what he looked like underneath. You let out an audible gasp as he removed it, revealing sharp blue eyes with heavy lashes and purple painted lips.

“What the fuck, Killer?” You almost yelled, “why the fuck do you wear a mask when you look like that? ”

He gave you a shit eating smile before climbing on top of you, his half hard dick pressing between your legs and giving you much needed friction. You moaned and rolled your hips up towards him, desperately seeking more.

“No more talking,” he growled before smashing his lips against yours. He could taste himself on your tongue as it fought with his, both of you moaning and grinding against each other like horny teenagers before he finally broke the kiss. He grabbed your waist and pulled you up as he kissed and sucked your neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where his mouth traveled, while he pushed off your robe and pulled your nightie up over your head. When he let you go you landed with a bounce, your tits bouncing with you before he hungrily took one in his mouth and sucked at your hard nipple. His hand found the other, rubbing the pebble between his thumb and index and pulling gently to illicit small moans from you.

His mouth traveled further down, his tongue leaving a wet trail on your abdomen as he made his way to your mound, his thumb finding your pussy and rubbing over the clothed folds.

“Fuck, Kil, please,” you begged.

He twisted the band of your panties with his index fingers and pulled them down, sitting back for a moment to free them from your ankles and throwing them aside. He looked at your naked body for a moment, admiring your soft curves and the marks he'd left on you. He stood up with a smirk, and you whined as he moved away.

“Where are you going?” You complained.

“Give me a second,” he replied as he opened a side table drawer, pulling a hair tie from it and fastening it around his long blond mane as he returned to you. “Had to get my hair out of the way,” he crawled back between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and running kisses over them. You moaned as his nose ran over your center, and he used his hands to spread you open.

“So wet…” he mused before running his tongue between your folds. You almost cried at how good it felt to finally have him on you, and his tongue quickly found your clit and swirled circles around it. He looked up at you from between your legs as he sucked on it, pulling a deep groan from you. Under his chin his hand slid up, his middle finger toying with your entrance before sliding in easily, twisting to find your sweet spot and pressing against it.

“Hnng.. Kil..” you mewled as your hips rolled on their own.

He slid in another finger, pumping you slowly, letting you stretch around his thick digits before adding a third. He pressed up against your g-spot, making short, hard thrusts against it while he continued to suck on your clit and play with it with his tongue. You were so pent up, your orgasm hit you so suddenly without warning, almost pushing his fingers out from how tight you squeezed around them as you squirted and shook. He worked you through it, paying no mind to the juices dripping from his goatee as you moaned and cried his name.

He pulled his fingers out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sitting back on his heels and admiring his work while you panted. “Fuck, sorry Kil, I'm not usually that… violent,” you stuttered out between heavy breaths.

He gave you a smug grin as he crowded back over you, kicking off his shoes and pulling his jeans the rest of the way off. “My girl only squirts for me, huh?” He leaned down and kissed you hard, forcing his tongue in and making you taste yourself. You thought it would taste bad, but the sweet musky flavour made you moan, “you taste so good baby, I could never get enough of that,” he cooed when he finally pulled away.

His dick was hard again and he pressed the tip against your pussy, rubbing against your over sensitive clit. “Think you can take me?” His voice was deep and dark with arousal, it made you shudder.

“Fuck, please Kil,” you were practically clawing at his forearms as your hips tried to meet him, but he skillfully kept his length away, “please, fuck me”

“Mmm,” he purred, running his nose against your neck till his mouth met your ear, “get on your knees”

The second he leaned away you were moving, flipping to your front and presenting your ass for him, your wet pussy on full display and begging to be filled. “Good girl,” he cooed, pressing his tip against your entrance, “here you go baby”

He slid inside in one fluid motion, made easy by how soaked you were from your previous orgasm, and you both groaned as he bottomed out. He paused and let you adjust, his girth stretching you deliciously and filling you so well, his chest resting against your back as he waited for you to be ready for him.

“Kil, move, please,” you begged. He didn't waste anymore time, starting a deep, fast rhythm, almost desperate, right off the bat. His heavy length rubbed against your g-spot with every thrust, making you moan with reckless abandon, uncaring of who heard. He grunted and whispered your name like a prayer as he fucked you hard, his front snapping against your ass and leaving it red with every deep movement.

“Fuck, you're so tight, fuck,” he mumbled.

Your core was already tight as he lost himself in you, your body being shaken back and forth with the pounding, your orgasm quickly approaching. You barely had time to reach back and grab his thigh before you screamed out, your walls squeezing around him as you came hard.

“Ha.. fuck..” he grunted, slamming in to you and stilling as he came deep inside you, filling you with another hot load.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed as he pulled out, his head against your shoulder blades and his hot breath making your skin damp. His hands were on your hips, holding you tight in place while you both caught your breath. He rolled off to give you space to breathe, laying on his back beside you, his head turned in your direction. You turned to him and smiled, reaching a hand up and pushing his messy bangs out of his face. His eyes closed and his face pressed into your palm, so you rested it against his cheek, caressing him with your thumb. You wondered if anyone had ever touched him like this, since he no doubt kept his mask on with other women.

“Kil?” You whispered, sliding closer and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm?” He mumbled, his eyes still closed, half asleep at this point.

“No more hiding feelings, kay?” You said softly, and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Kay,” he whispered back, before turning and wrapping himself around you, getting comfortable and falling asleep.

He was still wrapped around you when you woke up, naked and spooning on top of the covers, the wrong way across the bed where you'd both fallen asleep. He kissed your shoulder as he felt you wake, humming as he ran his nose across your skin and breathed you in. He was already making plans to spoil you next Valentine's Day.

#killer x reader #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece

125 notes · View notes

prozac · 3 months

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December 27th, 2008 is the day Anik Pillai was left behind. Trying to find his family, he travels the East Coast with his new friends, avoiding the bloodthirsty monsters created by a world-ending virus. ⠀⠀⠀🌹

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🌹 Season 1: 5 months (Jan-May)

⠀Anik Pillai, separated from his sister, makes friendly with multiple people in the chaos of the collapse of society. In this chaos, Anik raises a little boy who was also separated from his family.

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🌹 Season 2: 1 month (June)

⠀Anik and his friends try to escape the city before it is bombed by the remnants of the United States�� government.

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🌹 Season 3: 2 months (July-August)

⠀Still unable to find his sister & parents, Anik and friends meet a capable married couple, and head to a safe settlement called Wheatville.

⠀

🌹 Season 4: 1 month (September)

⠀The main group learn more about the state of society and science after the fall.

⠀

🌹 Season 5: 3 months (October-December)

⠀The main group learn more about the virus that has made the world implode.

⠀

🌹 Season 6: 1 year (January-December)

⠀Those who remain stay at the first major rebuilt faction: a settlement called Libertytown.

⠀

🌹 Season 7: 4 months (January-April)

⠀While the group is forcibly split, Anik and those with him travel to the city formerly known as Atlanta, which hosts another rebuilt faction: Center for Safety.

⠀

🌹 Season 8: 1 yr (May-May)

⠀A period of rest. However, the surface of calm begins to bubble…

⠀

🌹 Season 9: 2 months (June-July)

⠀Anik learns more about the state of the world outside of the embrace of the powerful settlements.

⠀

🌹 Season 10: 1 month (August)

⠀THE MEAT FACTORY.

⠀

🌹 Season 11: 11 months (September-July)

⠀Anik is alone.

⠀

🌹 Season 12: 6 months (August-January)

⠀Valentino King, hungry ruler of the Kingdom faction, strikes a deal with the mourning Anik Pillai. Anik takes that deal.

⠀

🌹 Season 13: 1 year 4 months (Feburary x2-June)

⠀With society on the coast all forming alliances, the new faction Home begins to become a place of respite.

⠀

🌹 Season 14: ~3 days (July)

The war begins to end.

⠀

🌹 Season 15: 6 months (July-December)

⠀Anik Pillai finishes what was started.

⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 🥀

#DAIL #DAIL Summaries #❤️💚💙🧡

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canonicallysoulmates · 9 months

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I was reading an interview from a couple months back that the SFX makeup artist for IWTV, Howard Berger, did and it's such an insightful and fascinating read. I'm gonna include some excerpts of things that stood out to me but if you're interested in the special effects makeup of this show I highly reccomend giving the full interview a read, I'll link it at the bottom of this post.

Like y'all, they developed individual lenses for each character that changed with their moods that's 🤯

"Berger: One thing Rolin wanted was to go back to the source material regarding the color of their eyes because Anne Rice says what their eyes look like. At first, I was designing other things and I wanted all the vampires to have individual eyes. I didn’t want them all to be yellow eyes or red eyes. So we went back to the source material and did designs on the actors via Photoshop that were more accurate to what she had written. Once that was approved by Rolin, I had this idea to show their emotions, be it hunger or passion — or just ravenous killers. Their eyes would change — not the color, but the sizes, so their pupils dilate and their pupils constrict. Also in the hunger phase, we had lenses for Sam that were also super bloodshot. He’s just drinking the blood and his eyes are filling up. So I really wanted to play with that. With the help of Ted Rae, who was our VFX Supervisor, we were able to design everything so we could actually see the eyes dilate or constrict, and that just made it more animalistic, because animals obviously do that."

And for the blood they made the human blood look different from the vampire blood, and for the big drinking scenes the actors weren't actually drinking any of that blood which makes sense but at the same time it looks so legit:

"There are different bloods in this show. We have human blood and then we had vampire blood, and it actually is a little bit darker and has, like, a pearlescence to it. When they’re drinking the stuff, like in the Dubai sequence, Props had [created] an edible blood that wouldn’t affect them. If they had actually drank the blood we made, it’d be like drinking maple syrup. It would be horrible. We were really careful in the way we designed it because we wanted the blood to stand out and be different. We [also] have dressing blood. That’s [the] blood that just goes on clothing or on the floor. That, you don’t ingest, and we could use pearlescent powders. We did a lot of different blood tests [of] blood spraying out. For the edible blood, we ended up finding metallic cake frosting powder that was edible, so we mixed that in. It’s all these crazy things and you mix that in and then they were able to have that in their mouth and not be sick. [For] any of the big drinking stuff, we faked it, or [else] they would have stomach problems the whole show. They’re such good actors that they look like they’re drinking blood, but they’re not!"

And the way that Rolin describes vampires burning in this series is carbonization so that's how they came up with what Louis burning in the sun would look like.

"That was something Rolin came up with and we kept trying to figure out, like, “how is a vampire gonna burn?” Rolin used a word that made all the sense to me. He said “carbonization.”"

Oscar-Winning SFX Makeup Artist Howard Berger on Creating Blood, Bite Marks, and Beautiful Nails for Anne Rice’s Interview With the Vampire

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv bts #non spn #mine

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kuroosdarling · 2 years

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𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒 𝟏: 𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓’𝖘 𝕷𝖆𝖇

♡‧₊˚ starring: Dr. Akaashi

‎♡‧₊˚ cw: mdni!! unprotected sex, thigh riding, slight power play (akaashi acts as a mentor), manhandling, praise, double penetration

kinktober m.list

a/n: please please let me know if i forgot any tags. super nervous for my first kinktober fic but here we go !! thank u nesi for reading through all this and hyping me up LMFAO. i hope you guys enjoy it hehe

Honestly, you barely even wanted to come to the Halloween fair this year. It would’ve been another cruddy festival filled with hollow spooks and lame costumes. But your friends had insisted, and you were a sucker for them so here you were. They had decided to race off to the sketchy looking ferris wheel while your fear of heights had you deterring from the attraction. Instead, you headed towards the haunted house.

Everyone had said it was the scariest yet, but since it was run by the volleyball team on campus, you weren’t convinced. It would be something to pass the time while your friends rode a few rides. Maybe you could get your thrills in a different way.

“Good luck. All you have to do is complete the experiment, outrun the killer, survive the werewolf, break out of the torture chamber and somehow escape the underworld.” The guy at the counter said, sliding the ticket towards you.

“Oh is that all?” You roll your eyes, picking it up. It should be a piece of cake.

“Oh and don’t die.” The blondie that sold your ticket gave you a wicked smirk, softly puffing his cigarette smoke in your face as he gestured towards the double doors that led to the house. The house itself looked like a basic haunted house with faint ‘scary’ music playing in the background. Flashes of light and distant screams filled your ears as you looked onward. A crow sat by the front of the door and squawked at you as you made your way down the path.

As you walked towards the door, you heard the distinct buzz of a walkie talkie, but paid no mind as he was probably just alerting the staff that a new victim was walking into the house of horrors. Little did you know…

Opening the door, it felt like you were the only one in this whole makeshift building. The first room was obviously a spoof of Frankenstein, completed with the lab and even a fake body on the table. There wasn’t anyone even around which checked out since this was just a small little fair. They probably didn’t put much effort into it.

Something pricked at the back of your neck, raising the tiny little hairs that laid there. You easily shake off the feeling, trying to cool the rising nerves that flooded your system. A couple steps further and you could make it to the other side of the door, going through the door to the next room.

A resounding boom and a flash of light caused you to jump in your place. A slightly crazed looking man with glasses and a lab coat flew by you, muttering something under his breath as he made his way to the table with the fake body. Only it wasn’t fake, the body rising slowly as it groaned loudly. The man in the lab coat laughed maniacally before turning towards you, chanting something about he was alive.

“Why hello there. You’re just in time. Would you be interested in being my little test subject?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. For some reason, you couldn’t move your feet. The initial fear had stuck you in place but it was slowly rolling off of you as you took in his attractive appearance. His deep blue eyes burned with a spark that had you transfixed on him. The man made his way closer to you. “What’s wrong? Can’t speak? Maybe I can run another experiment on you then.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking towards the man that was getting off the table and slowly shuffling his way towards the two of you; his white hair shimmering in the low lights. You had slightly recognized him from one of your classes. But the Doctor himself was unrecognizable.

“Oh, so you can speak. Excellent.” The man waved over the ‘monster’. “I’ve been working on experiments and I think it’s time to move on to the next stage. This is my life’s work. But I'm going to need him to have more human interactions. Would you be able to help?”

What kind of haunted house was this? You should’ve high-tailed it far away by now, but the skit had seemed so immersive that you couldn’t break away from the scene. The look the doctor was giving you seemed so sincere that you couldn’t help but fall into his trap.

“Sure. What do you need me to do, Doctor?” You asked, looking up at him. His eyes immediately darkened, absolutely pleased with your eagerness to

help.

“I’d like to release him into the wild to live among the people. But in order to do that, he needs to have social interaction beyond just me. I can only teach him so much, I believe a woman’s touch would be perfect for this next experiment.”

With the look that they were giving you, it was easy to tell where this was going. Biting back a smirk, you nod your head with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“Let’s start somewhere simple. Would you be able to kiss him? Then we can see what progresses from there. This is for science, mind you, so just let whatever happen, happen. We need a full report on the expanses of pleasure.” He said, taking a slight step back as the ‘monster’ took another step forward towards you. His golden eyes sparked with delight and recognition as he took in your figure.

Not sure who was supposed to make the first move, you decide to step closer, gently holding his face and bringing him in for a kiss. Obviously, this monster had a little experience as he quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting out a small groan as he felt your tongue glide against his.

His strong arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you closer. A sigh escaped your lips as you lost yourself in the kiss. For someone who just came to life, he sure seemed to know what he was doing. His kiss was overpowering, backing you up against the wall.

It was all escalating so quickly but all you could do was run with it. His touch against your skin was hot, deliciously igniting a flame in your core. What made it even better was the eyes that watched you from a distance, taking in every second that unfolded in front of him.

He hiked you up against the wall, pressing his knee up between your legs dangerously close to the spot you needed him most. A whine escaped you, flowing from the back of your throat right into his mouth. In return, you swallowed the deep groan he let out. Your hands run through his hair, pulling him even closer, but it wasn’t enough. Desperate for some more friction, you start to ride his meaty thigh, relishing in the pleasure it was bringing you.

“He’s going to need to learn more than just kissing, isn’t that right, Bokuto?” The doctor called out to the two of you. The ‘monster’ named Bokuto nodded his head against your lips before pulling back, searching your eyes for something. You look over at the doctor, who’s eagerly looking back. You nod at both of them.

“I’ll help you guys with whatever you need. He needs to know what pleasure is, correct? Or am I misinterpreting the experiment, Doctor.” You feign innocence. you weren’t sure how far they wanted to take things but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t game. The doctor took a step forward towards the two of you.

“Correct.” He said slowly. “You can call me Dr. Akaashi, by the way. I want you to teach him how you need to be prepped before participating in the art of pleasure.”

You nod at him and look back at Bokuto, who was still staring down at you. Suddenly, everyone was on the same page and tension flooded the room, wrapping itself around your throat. The only solace you could find was latching your lips against Bokuto’s. Pulling him in for another searing kiss, you take a hold of his hand and trail it up your thigh to where the hem of your skirt lies.

“You can go ahead and take these off.” You purr, bringing his hand up further up to where your soaked panties were. Bokuto’s breath hitched in your mouth, his fingers curling against the fabric before ripping them down. The sudden cold exposure had you shivering in his hold. “Good boy.”

Bokuto relished in your praise, immediately moving his fingers toward your glistening folds. You gasp out as he slowly slips a finger in. His finger was bigger than you expected, the stretch already feeling so good. Bokuto’s lips crash against yours again, swallowing up any moans you let out as his finger stretches you out. It was hard not to buck into his hand, so you let your instincts take over. In response, Bokuto slipped another finger in, seeing how riled up he could get you.

“It looks good so far, but I may have to demonstrate the next few steps as they get increasingly more complicated.” Akaashi said, his presence suddenly coming into view as he steps beside you and Bokuto. His hand circles around Bokuto’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, looking at Akaashi for your next direction. “Why don’t we try putting more than a finger in, hmm? Then we can have our dear Bokuto join us.”

“Yes please.”

Bokuto stepped back as Akaashi took a step closer to you; suddenly filling all your senses with so much as a dark gaze, the blue that used to take up his eyes had morphed into a color so deep you swore there wasn’t any blue left. There was a small moment of hesitation before Akaashi reached for your hand, placing it right on the bulge of his pants. You let a small gasp and you run your hand over it lightly, the coldness of his zipper almost stings your hand away but you move forward, slowly unzipping them as you hold eye contact. No one dared breath too deeply as you fish out his hard cock, standing tall and already oozing with pre.

He moves your hand gently before spitting in his hand to lube up his aching length, stroking it firmly before lining the tip up at your entrance. It already felt so hot against you — you couldn’t help but grind against it , letting out soft whimpers that filled the room. With a deep breath, he takes it and slowly pushes in, groaning as he slowly enters you. His head dips down so he could get a taste of your lips, the thing he had been craving since you had first walked into the haunted house. He couldn’t let Bokuto have all the fun, and your lips were just too soft to let up. The moment he bottoms out, the two of you groan into each other's mouths. The stretch felt so nice. His cock was lengthy and reached a part that was so deep in you that you didn’t know it could be touched. He hiked up your leg around his waist as he had you still pinned against the wall and started to move his hips slowly.

His hips slowly started moving forward, pushing into you at an increasing pace. Bokuto let out a soft sound at the sight, feeling somewhat left out. Your head turned, breaking away from Akaashi’s plush lips, much to his displeasure. Bokuto takes it as his chance to reclaim your lips. All of your senses felt fired up, you felt so full but it still felt like you were missing something.

“Bokuto, I hope you’re paying attention to how I’m doing this because – fuck – because you’re about to join us.” Akaashi breathed out, trying to hold back any moans that threatened to spill from his lips. He wanted to keep up the appearance of the calm and collected doctor but the way your cunt was gripping him had him struggling.

“There’s no room, though.” Bokuto pouted, breaking away from you. He and Akaashi shared a menacing look before Bokuto grabbed onto your hips as he slipped behind you, pulling you closer.Instead of being pinned against the wall you were now pinned against Bokuto's broad chest. Akaashi’s cock chased you, trying to keep its place inside of you as Bokuto manhandled you around, trying to fit into the intricate puzzle the three of you were creating. Bokuto’s cock pushed against your backside. “Think you have room for one more in that pretty pussy of yours?”

“Please-” You whimper out. There’s no way that Bokuto could fit his girthy cock in you, but you figured you let him try anyway. Akaashi kept thrusting into you, squelching sounds filling the room. Akaashi spit into his hand again, but this time he grabbed a hold of Bokuto’s cock, sliding his hand over it to get it nice and wet before he tried to stick it inside of you. Luckily, Bokuto was dripping with his own precum which only helped the situation.

Bokuto slides his cock against Akaashi’s and prodded at your entrance. Your body tensed as you felt him trying to make his way in. Bokuto cooed in your ear, rubbing all along your body in soothing motions. Akaashi whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he stilled his hips, waiting for Bokuto to hurry up and for you to give him the okay to move.

Inch by thick inch, Bokuto made his way inside of you. Akaashi kissed all along your neck, trying to soothe any discomfort that the stretch had brought on. Their cocks rubbed together inside of you, deliciously splitting you open. You already felt so full even though he hadn’t bottomed out yet. The stretch of both cocks had you seeing stars, clenching around their cocks as you came around them.

“Shit.” Akaashi murmured, “That was so hot. Good girl, good fucking girl.” As you came undone, it only made it easier for Bokuto to bottom out. Now, both cocks were fully seated inside of you. “Ready for us?”

“Yes.” your head lolls back onto Bokuto’s shoulder. Your eyes trail up to Bokutos golden ones, locking into place. “Please fuck me.”

They didn’t wait for any further confirmation as they took alternating strokes into you. One would pull all the way out as the other pounded into you. It all happened so fast that it felt like they were continuously fucking themselves into you. Your hand clutched onto Akaashi’s firm bicep, holding on as the two chased their high. At some point, your feet weren't even touching the floor anymore; properly finding yourself sandwiched between the two men.

Even though you just came, you felt your next high building up incredibly fast. One of them must’ve noticed because you felt a hand slither down to your clit, rubbing slow circles along it. It was all too much so you weren’t even sure which one it could’ve been.

“Bokuto, remember that when you’re with a woman you have to focus on this spot here.” Akaashi spoke out, his finger increasing the speed, causing your back to arch against Bokuto. “Let me see your hand and we can do this together. I want to make sure you learn correctly.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything but you could tell by his grunt that he understood. Seconds later, you felt a thick finger and a lithe finger play with your clit as they had continuously pounded into you. It was all you needed to reach your high, letting out a long moan, you tighten against both cocks as you let your high run its course.

Instead of cumming inside of you, both men pulled out at the same time, causing your feet to finally land back on the ground. The sudden emptiness had you whining out but you quickly shut your mouth as you saw the scene in front of you unfold. Both men had pivoted towards each other, their tips almost lining up as they stroked their cocks at a furious pace. Almost at the same time, they came onto each other, a beautiful sympathy of groans filling the room as they reached their peak together. There were a few moments of silence as they stared each other in the eyes before their gaze landed back onto you.

Akaashi gave you a kiss on the shoulder while Bokuto kissed you on the head. One of them gently massaged your thighs as the other murmured the sweetest praise in your ears.

“Thank you for showing Bokuto the pleasures of life.” Akaashi pulled back, giving you a subtle smirk. “Your effort in our scientific research doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“Exactly! Now you can continue on your journey and spread your legs.” Bokuto beamed at you. Akaashi hit him against the shoulder.

“He means your knowledge. You can spread your knowledge.” He shook his head with a soft smile on his face. “You gonna be okay for the next few rooms?”

You smirk at the two men as you adjust your skirt.

“Oh, I think I’ll be just fine.”

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#little darlings kinktober #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto koutaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #akaashi #bokuto #haikyuu imagine

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bnpd · 12 hours

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DID I SEE YOU SAY GHOSTFACE AU????? OMG???? you KNOW i'll be ready for that :333

YESSS AND YK i have to do yall good with the plot AND smut!! I'll give you a sneak peek fr ! it's still a super rough rough draft

SNEAK PEAK !

Ghostface Gojo AU! Coming fall (Halloween)

SYNOPSIS: Why can’t you shake off the thrill of his attention? You’re not scared of him. No. You’re afraid of what you feel for him: What you’ll turn into when you fall into him.

PROLOGUE.

They’d started again. The killings.

You hadn’t told anyone about them yet, but you knew the second the news began reporting a mysterious killer on the loose leaving white ghost masks at murder scenes that it was over for you. He was back. He was coming for you.

They were only getting closer. Each report left a location that began to close in on your area. The first one was hours away from you, the next thing you know it’s someone living a few blocks from you. But you were next, and you were sure of it.

It was getting closer to Halloween, and you feared the nail to your coffin would meet its end, the night of Halloween.

5 Years Ago.

The warning signals had begun during your birthday week, but the worst was yet to come. You were in your last year of high school when they first started. Things were great, but that never lasts in a town with a history like Woodsboro.

Your father was the chief of police, and well, good people always suffer. He had been in charge of conducting the investigation when Ghostface first began to target a girl by the name of Riko Amanai. She was killed by the original Ghostface, Toji Fushiguro. After your father put him in jail for the rest of his life, things went back to normal for a few months. Until someone else picked up the mask and began the killings, no—not the ‘killings’. The torture.

He was there every night, watching you from outside your window, condescendingly tilting his head every time you made eye contact with him. You gazed at him from the safety of your room. Noticing how his breathing would pick up every time you looked at him—looked into him—, walking closer to him. He was a big guy, standing taller than your doorframe.

He never did anything, but you knew he watched you sleep. He was always watching you. Even if you never saw him at school you still felt his burning gaze. The closest he ever got to you was when you left your window open and faked sleep.

A tight grip on your dad’s handgun, ready to shoot in case of anything.

That night you found out he was fascinated with you. He caressed your hair in your sleep, before softly cupping your cheek, soothing you with his thumb.

The tenseness in your shoulders never dissipated.

He left shortly after. You got up trembling that morning. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was far more tame than the last Ghostface. The fact made it more terrifying. He was no less of a threat to you than anything.

Everything went back to normal after that. 'Normal' being, him standing outside your window, watching you. You never told anyone about the late-night visits. Doing so would make them even more real, and you feared what that could mean for your peace and sanity. Over time, you had begun to trust him.

That was your first mistake.

Birthdays tend to be quite unforgettable, and this one was at the top of your list. The night of your birthday had marked an irremovable scar.

Your boyfriend, at the time, lay dead with the knife piercing the back of his head straight through your birthday cake. A party hat was snugly secured on his head and a birthday card was strategically placed between his limp fingers.

You remember screaming that night, a soundless one and the rest was a complete blur, but one thing was for sure. This one wasn’t your Ghostface. Or maybe it was and he was finally showing his true colors. A shade of crimson red to be exact.

Your shaky hands picked up the birthday letter that night. A gasp of horror left your lips, as your knees gave out on you. Your body collapsed to the floor in a kneeling manner.

There it was, written with blood.

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my taglist (and my bomb-ass discord)

#bnpd tumblr #gojo satoru bnpd #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #bnpd asks #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo

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zxoaii · 18 days

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Lovers from the past

fem! reader x Peeta Mellark

Summary: From childhood friends to lovers, Peeta and Y/n are reunited after the games.

WC: 2.9k

Prologue: Peeta Mellark, the sole victor of the 74th Hunger Games became a star in the capital for his small town love story. The world watched as a once gentle man turned into a remorseless killer in an effort to return to his lover.

[ Y/n ]

The anxiety that has been suffocating me for the past 20 days comes to an all time high as I stand on the train platform surrounded by Peacekeepers and capital cameras.

The warm summer air hugs my skin, urging me to try to relax. I have been pampered and made out to look like a completely different person. Makeup is caked up onto my face. It’s unnatural feeling urges me to wipe it all off. Though that would only mean having it reapplied. And there are more important things at hand than makeup right now.

There’s a faint hum in the distance. The woman urges the cameras to start rolling. My posture straightens as I search between the trees for the sight of the train.

Within the blink of an eye it appears. Coming toward us so quickly I’m unsure if it will be able to stop in time. Bile sits in the base of my throat. Tears well up in my eyes. Despite my concern, the train comes to a steady halt in front of us.

It feels like an eternity for the doors to slide open. The air seems to come rushing back to me as I see him. Peeta stands hollow eyed by his games mentor and the capital woman.

I make the move for him, running onto the train and into his embrace. Peeta’s fingers dig into my waist and my hair. At first I’m at a loss for words. What do you say after enduring unthinkable horrors?

“I love you.” I let my tears fall as I squeeze my eyes shut. We had said the words a million times over to one another in our lives. But this time was different. Raw and passionate. “I love you too.” His voice shakes as he holds me.

“Alright you two let’s get this over with.” The gravely man places a hand on Peeta’s back. We reluctantly pull away from each other all too soon. This close I can see the marks left by his time in the arena. Cuts and bruises litter his once perfect skin.

“Y/n, how does it feel to see Peeta again?” A camera is shoved into my face. The lights burn my eyes. “It’s… A relief. I feel like I can breathe again.” Peeta’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me to his side. I accept this closeness, never wanting to be an arms length away from him again.

“How did you feel during his brawl with Cato?” My heart drops into the depths of my stomach. The memory of watching Peeta come so close to… The question feels insensitive.

“I was terrified. Completely… Terrified.” My hand finds his on my waist, feeling the warmth of his skin for reassurance. Reassurance of life.

They feign sympathy for me. Like they could ever know that kind of fear. “Peeta, what were you thinking as you went through the games?” They turn to him.

“Y/n. I just thought about her every second.” I can feel his eyes on me but when I turn to meet them he looks back at the camera. If you didn’t know him you might think he had come out unscathed. But here, looking at him now, I can see every falter. Every wince at the thought of what just happened. Every tiny detail that gives away his hurt and fear.

The safety of Peeta’s room feels infiltrated with foreign knowledge. Foreign feelings. He sits on his bed completely silent. Just staring at the wall in front of him.

I unbutton the pressed dress shirt he wears and push it off his arms. “Here.” I slide the soft worn cotton tee over Peeta’s head. Bruises and bloodied injuries invade the once so familiar landscape of his body.

It takes effort to hide the sadness in my eyes. Pitying wouldn’t do anything to fix this. No, I needed to watch the world burn to right this wrong.

“Are you hungry?” My question falls on deaf ears. “Peeta.” I take a seat next to him after a moment of no response. He turns to me, those hollow eyes sparked with an unfamiliar look. Before I can get another word out his lips crash onto mine.

I brace myself against the bed, eyes wide with shock. Peeta’s sweet taste intoxicates me. Slurring any rational thoughts I have. The unsaid feelings all come out now in this heated kiss.

“I thought I’d never feel your lips again.” He holds my face gently, contrasting with the roughness of his skin. The capital broadcasted our story every waking moment.

Childhood best friends devastatingly in love with each other. A couple torn apart by tragedy. And then a boy turned primal for the chance to see the girl he loves again.

Not a human fighting for survival. No, our lives have become a story the capital can’t get enough of. Our love consumed by every person watching. Capital citizens hungrily begging for more, more, more.

“I was so afraid.” The shake in my voice exposes me for how devastated I really am. My fingers desperately find his neck, holding him close. The faint beating of his pulse against my palm brings me over the edge.

Peeta won the games but I can’t help but feel completely devastated. Anger and sadness spill out of me pathetically.

His comforting touch lingers on my face. “I’m never leaving again. I’m not leaving you again.” The certainty in his voice is somewhat new for him. The once unsure and timid Peeta was slaughtered in the arena. Replaced with a hardened and certain version.

Still, his softness showed through for me. Carefully wiping my tears from under my eyes, pressing comforting kisses onto the crown of my head, whispering sweet nothings to me.

I shouldn’t be the one being comforted. Just as quickly as I started, I pull myself together. “I’m okay, thank you… I’m just so relieved.” My hands clasp over his.

“Y/n.” Peeta draws my eyes up to his. The warm sun turns his blonde hair a honey gold. He takes one of my hands in his, pressing my knuckle to his lips. “Marry me.” The whisper is so quiet I almost don’t believe he said it.

I wonder if it was just a figment of my imagination. “Nothing could keep me from you. From coming home to you. Marry me. Come live with me in the Victor’s Village. We can leave our parents behind. Just have each other.”

The idea of it seems insane. Though, nothing that has happened seems sane. There’s nothing left for us here but each other. “Yes.” My answer breaks the anticipation.

Peeta smiles, a genuine smile. His eyes momentarily sparked with a familiar look of happiness. “Good. Yeah, we can… We can find someone to wed us in the back markets. We can go tonight.”

People’s eyes follow our every movement. No on speaks. The heavy silence is only broken by the loudness of their thoughts. Visible on all of their faces.

He’s a monster and she’s his muse. We watched the way he killed. I wonder how many of them noticed the look in his eyes. Fear. There wasn’t a second in that arena he wasn’t consumed by it.

Fear weaponized can be just as lethal as anger. Peeta finally stops walking, looking around at the crowds. They don’t bother to stop looking but still, no one speaks up.

“We need someone to officiate a wedding. I can give half of my meals for a month to whoever helps us.” That piques interest among the crowd. Still, it seems people were too afraid to come near us.

“I’ll do it.” Peeta whips his head around. I follow his eyes, looking behind us. At the front of the crowd is the drunken man from the train. The only other victor from 12.

“Haymitch.” They exchange a small nod of agreement. We leave as silently as we came. Eyes burning holes into my back.

“If you’re trying to do something in secret, announcing it to the public isn’t the way to go. Even if they’re a secret society.” My eyes trail across his disheveled appearance. I should probably thank him. I doubt Peeta would have gotten any gifts if he hadn’t done his job.

Wet leaves carpet the gravel road. The sound of soft rain eases the tense silence. Filling the night with the melodic sound of wet droplets falling against the wooden roofs of 12.

We don’t bother to rush. Peeta looks up at the darkened sky, letting the rain fall against his face.

The walk towards the very back of the district is long; purposely isolated from the derelict of the main town. I stare at the two rows of grand houses. They stand in almost perfect condition. Unaffected by the rot that plagues most homes.

“Come on. This one is mine.” Haymitch leads us to the second house on the right side of the courtyard. Peeta slips his rain soaked hand into mine.

We follow behind him, I pull Peeta to hurry out of the rain. As we step inside I take note of the darkness of the house. The interior is not as well kept as the exterior. The stench of alcohol consumes the sweet smell of the rain outside.

“Alright. Let’s do this over drinks. Really all you need to do to be wed is go down to the Justice Building and file the paperwork to be married. That’s going to draw a lot of attention with the cameras so go before the sunrise. But I can say a few words and give you some bread for the toasting.”

It’s traditional to do the toasting after the wedding. Though, I suppose it’s also traditional to rent an old wedding dress… And share a meal with your family. None of which we will be doing I assume.

“Yeah, that sounds good. What do you think?” Peeta breaks me from my thoughts. I turn to look at him, a warm smile on my face. “I’m ready.”

The bruises that were earlier only small red marks on his face have now started to blossom into dark shades of purple and black. The earlier glint of happiness in his eyes has since died out.

“Go sit on the couch. I’ll pour you the drinks.” Haymitch turns on his heel towards the large open room behind him. We follow as he makes his way through the house.

To our left is a large worn couch. It’s nicer than anything I have ever seen here. I let go of Peeta’s hand and rush around to sit down. My hands press into the cushions, feeling the softness below. “It’s amazing!” I whisper, turning to Peeta.

He walks around the couch and takes his place next to me. “Wow…” He fakes awe for me. I realize that he must’ve already felt things like this before…

My smile fades away into a small frown. The weight of knowing what to say to him drags me further into the cushion. This is hasty? We should take a few days for you to come out of shock? Are you ok?

None of the words even make it past my throat. Nothing is right. I’ve dreamt about the day Peeta and I were married since we were kids. Dreamt about toasting bread with him. Dreamt about how it would feel to share a home.

Now it’s all coming true under such grim circumstances. Marrying to avoid the possibility of being away from each other for more than a few minutes. Marrying to hold onto the only thing we have.

Peeta had everything ripped away from him so violently. I can’t imagine how afraid he must be. I want to reach up and tell him I can relate, that the same fear consumed me. But it’s not the same. Both fear, yes. Separate in their manifestation and origin.

Before I can fall further into the spiral of depressing thoughts, Haymitch hands me a glass of whiskey. In the dark the liquid looks completely black.

“To love.” Haymitch raises his glass. Peeta raises his as well and I follow. They both down the contents. I instead let the glass rest in my lap.

“I’m not going to make this long… I’m just going to say, you two have something special. I’ve never seen anything like what you have. Unconditional love. It’s rare so hold onto it.” Haymitch looks down at his empty glass.

“Yeah… Now you two go on and say your part.” He stands and leaves the room. My eyes trail him as he walks into the kitchen then fall back to Peeta.

“Y/n, you have been there for me since before we could talk. I have only ever known one thing and that is that I love you. That I can’t imagine a life without you… Or a death without you either.”

The last words cut through me, urging me to cry. To crawl into his embrace and cry until it pains me to continue. The way I had the day he left me.

“I love you Y/n. I would do anything for you. Anything.” His voice becomes such a low whisper the rainfall almost covers it. I fight against the tears in my eyes, stopping them at my lashes.

“I’m the luckiest man alive to get to marry you.” Haymitch rejoins us in the room. This time he brings the entire bottle of whiskey. Peeta’s hand reaches up to hold my cheek. As I close my eyes to lean into his touch, the tears fall.

His thumb wipes them away with such familiar gentleness. I’m unsure how to put into words what I feel for him. How to describe all the feelings inside me.

“Peeta…” I finally start, completely unable to hide the shake in my voice. “I will never know fear like that again. The fear of losing you.” My sobs choke me up. Peeta quickly scoops me up in a tight embrace.

I tuck my head into his collarbone, trying to contain my tears. It’s not fair for me to cry. It’s not fair for me to be comforted right now.

“I need you, Peeta. Nothing has ever been so clear to me. I need you like I need air. To be able to marry you and hold onto you… I’m never going to let you go again. I swear.”

His hand carefully caresses my hair. Every part of us is so tightly intertwined. Our lives are exactly that. Ours. Not Peeta’s life or Y/n’s life. Our life. There isn’t a memory I can think of where he isn’t there.

“The bread.” We carefully part and look over at Haymitch. “If… You’re finished.” He drops his hand with the slice of bread. “No, we’re ready.” I answer, wiping my tears onto the back of my hand.

Peeta carefully takes it, looking over at me with a small grin. Haymitch’s feet cause the floorboards to creak as he makes his way to the large fireplace in front of us. He strikes a match and tosses it in, carefully blowing to ensure the wood catches.

We leave our spot on the couch and kneel in front of the fireplace. “I have a poker.” Haymitch offers. The flames are still small, flicking in all directions. “It’s fine.” Peeta slowly sticks the bread into the fireplace. I watch as he carefully avoids the flames. It only takes a short moment for the bread to toast.

He pulls it back and passes it to me. “Be careful.” His warning pulls at my heartstrings. No one has ever cared for me the way he does. I reach my hand in, only holding a small edge of the slice.

The warmth sears my skin. Threatening to cause damage if I come any closer. The short moment drags on for a lifetime as I wait for the bread to toast. I try to conceal my wincing as I retreat my hand.

“Congratulations. You two are now unofficially married. Don’t consummate it in my house. Any of the others should be furnished.” He waves his hand at us as he takes a swing from the bottle.

I take a bite from the bread, looking at Peeta with a childish grin. It happened. In my basic leathers over a white dress and celebrating with a man I don’t know. But it happened.

Peeta takes the bread and takes his bite. That faint smile reappears on his face. Happiness through devastation. We lean in and meet in a heated kiss.

The bread falls to the floor with a dull thunk. Our arms wrap around each other to keep the other close. “Ok.” Haymitch pulls himself out of his chair and leaves us alone in the room.

The fire lights up Peeta’s face in the darkness. Despite the newfound injuries and hollowness to him, he remains my Peeta. Gentle, caring, and so full of love.

I lean back in and press another short kiss on his lips. The peacefulness of secrecy will likely be lost by sunrise tomorrow. We will face the cameras as a newlywed couple for the capital. Fed to people we’ll never know like rabbits to a fox.

But tonight no one knows but us. No one will hear the sweet nothings we will speak and no one will ruin this moment.

Tomorrow we will face the wolves. Together.

#clapton davis #josh futturman #josh hutcherson #mike schimdt x reader #fanfic #mike schmidt #peeta mellark #sean anderson #the hunger games peeta #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x female y/n

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inlocusmads · 4 days

Text

“I put men first in pity, then found there was none left for me.” ~ Trystan Thorne, Sebastyan Thorne (crimes of passion)

WC: 1.3k | Teen and up for strong language

Summary: Sebastyan discards his loyalty and finds himself with no purpose.

A/N: This is ofc a very late entry to @choicesmaychallenge24 but this has been gnawing at my head for a good few days lmao. The title is taken from Prometheus Bound - hence the Prometheus and Epimetheus imagery. I don't know if I did a good job since this was very rushed but I hope you enjoy! Banner cred: Prometheus cautioning Epimetheus against Pandora by Walter MacEwen (1860-1943).

Trystan had always insisted he be loud. That Sebastyan demand for things of his own. After all, it got his eldest brother an opportunity to clean up, be less like Father in a few odd ways - but then again, he was even more comfortable with walking straight back into the trap and ensnaring himself against the hook. A demand so in character for a king. So Bas would try to be loud and he would be given a purpose, something to be revered for, something to be loved unconditionally for - but it was only means to fight others’ battles for them. A fool through a few eyes for being too loud. An afterthought.

In the last and perhaps, the only conversation that had gone past a few minutes that he would have with his eldest brother, he had cursed him.

“I don’t understand, Trystan. I personally think — you see — I could really use your support.”

“Do you still think I killed Juliana?”

“Oh— to hell with h—” he composed himself. “To hell with you. Let’s not go there. But I love you, I do. I do, okay? I believe in you.”

Bas’s words sounded so foreign; so unlike him to his own ears. It was likely he’d dreamt the whole thing up - the comfort from imagining he’d loved his brother. Sparse miracles like that. It almost made them both sound like honourable people. Sebastyan couldn’t tell if it happened today or a few years ago or somewhere in the utopian, ideal world of his that made everyone in his family think he was just that foolish. Then again, how many times do you really get to say thank you?

Sebastyan didn’t think Trystan would live to see 50. Something about him being the first child, the last of the barrel. He didn’t think he would get to grow old himself. Ambition grew on him like fungus. He didn’t have a lot of time. But he did believe in his brother, even if he didn’t believe in him. Even if they all thought he was a joke, only as important as the people he associated with. He loved his family in a way that he’d given them too much love when he was a child and didn’t have any left.

“Do you think you can — does he know I’m there?”

Everyone knew Sebastyan Thorne was a hopeless case. There was no war he wouldn’t fight for someone else to plant a vote for himself deep within its roots. Every fight must happen because of him and every fight shall end with him as a mediator. He has to. After all, without a good fight, they wouldn’t have a reason to hate him so much. Perhaps he wouldn’t be thought of as hopeless or a forgotten fourth sibling, rather a ruthless killer. Someone who gives until he dies early, so they would have something to talk about him.

‘Does he know I’m there?’ — do you think Father might stop to think the first few children he had were mere imperfect, burned cakes out of the oven? Do you think he knows I will do anything, that I possess a capability for love so much I can’t tell if it is really that genuine? Do you think he knows I will follow him and the crown around like a dog bred to fight in a ring? Will he give me a chance one day? That I will do anything for it, even bleed out young? That he knows I am an honest fool for willingly throwing myself in a trap? That he might see something in me?

“I think so. Maybe. I think he sees everyone.”

“Right, yes, that makes sense. Perhaps you can help me.”

“I am not of much help these days, Bas.”

“Sure you can. You think I can do a good job, right? Everyone thinks you are some kind of a — fallen hero or something. That you have taken the full extent of the wrath. I still see you.”

“I appreciate it. But do you think it is a little too soon to ask me for a recommendation letter?”

“Anything helps, Trystan. I will do anything.”

A flash of a look of authority went through Trystan’s face like lightning. Their eyes lit up with a sense of importance. Bas knew the look all too well. Shoulders relaxed, head held up, a dejected look that blended away into something more stoic. A tightening against the leash. Perhaps it was Bas’s own unadulterated loyalty or maybe he really was such a fool for telling his family he would do anything if they could perhaps, throw a glance his way but there was something about Trystan’s posture that said he was too important to give his brother attention. That Sebastyan cannot possibly be more than what he was always worth. That he wouldn’t be mourned so quickly, only regretted in hindsight. Even if he were loud as his own siblings had suggested, even if he walked the earth like a Titan - the aftershocks wouldn’t be enough to kill anyone.

“I think he isn’t going to give it to you. He already has plans to give it to me.”

“But you are going to say no, right?”

“I don’t know.” Trystan shrugged. “I might give it a chance. It is my penance, after all.”

“I don’t see it as such. It is upto us to take care of the house when they’re gone. It’s an opportunity. Unlike you, I actually have some skin in this matter - some experience. I also hope for all good things too. The family can use me. Someone like me, at least. Maybe I’m just too kind sometimes, you know? I’m sure I am not Father’s favourite, but I can do something with my time here, Trystan.”

“Remember the time when we were kids, we — erm, went for a picnic or something - I forget, but I remember you fed stray dogs all the chocolate your Mother gave you, because one of them liked it?”

“Do you really think so little of me?”

“You’re too loyal sometimes that you get swayed with even the slightest bit of hope. I mean it as a compliment, by the way. It’s nice when people like us can be kind. I’m sure Father appreciates it and I am certain he has something special for you. But then again, if you really do want it —” Trystan wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, “— I will see to it that he thinks about choosing you. I make no promises, Bas, but you’re better than us.”

“It’s a no, then.”

“I said I will try.”

“Fuck you.”

“— if not what you want, I will ensure you have a good, stable future, all right?” Trystan clasped Bas’s hands in his in a prayer position. Sebastyan knew people keep him around just to make themselves feel like their demands were more reasonable. Trystan wanted to be out of the cage, yet with a crown on his head. But next to Bas’s deep desire to be given a chance, even if it took the form of an approving glance from a father who wouldn’t spare him any thought, even in hindsight, Trystan’s aspirations seemed plausible. A good future was nothing. What would his purpose even be?

Maybe I am too loyal. Maybe I do think the nicest things for people. Maybe I do fight like a guard dog even if I have no caretaker. Maybe someone is listening and they aren’t impressed. Maybe they want me to have razor sharp teeth to tear everybody’s flesh off. What kind of battles do they like best and where should I get good enough to bear my teeth and have bets placed on me? How loud should I bark?

“Trystan, I hope you fucking die.”

____

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I do plan on writing some more mythology-centered fics even after May - here's to hoping the inspiration strikes lol.

Also I don't have a specific timeline for this fic. I just think this happens a few moments after Trystan is named successor but they're uncertain about it themselves, so maybe somewhere middle of Book 2.

Tagging:

perma: @stars-are-within-me @dutifullynuttywitch @thosehallowedhalls @tessa-liam @quixoticdreamer16

crimes only: @trappedinfanfiction @moominofthevalley

#trystan thorne x mc #trystan thorne #sebastyan thorne #crimes of passion fics #crimes of passion #w:inlocusmads #playchoices

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autumn-solitude · 3 months

Text

Killer wants to sleep in Cross’ bed despite there being multiple rooms (bodyguard au)

It was late.

“So I said, nah, I’ll mustard up some energy.”

Very late.

“C’mon, Crossy. That’s where you’re supposed to laugh.”

Late enough that everyone in the house should have been asleep, and yet here Cross was, listening to Killer’s poor attempts to engage him in conversation.

“Hey? Hey Cross?” Killer was propped up on an elbow, having made himself comfy. “Crisscross. My client with the hot, hot bod and burly man tits aka padding aka just ecto under that tight, tight tank. My fit witness to protect. You awake?”

“Why are you in my bed?” Cross eventually grumped, sighing in aggravation as Killer eagerly perked up and sidled closer across the mattress.

“I’m cold.” Killer whispered conspiratorially, eye sockets scrunched up gleefully with a massive shit-eating grin firmly in place.

Cross didn’t fully believe the excuse; he could see through the mask by now.

Killer was acting as if several days ago he’d never being buried alive in mud. As if being frantically dug out by hand, carefully revived, and then painstakingly cleaned off hadn’t been a traumatizing experience on top of Killer believing that Cross had been successfully abducted; that Killer had failed his duty as Cross’ bodyguard.

“…you are aware that there is a fireplace in Dream’s living room?” Cross questioned seriously, struggling to banish the soul-wrenching sight of Killer’s bones being caked with mud, the worst of it solidified within parted teeth and sockets, as if Killer had been cruelly pinned face first into the wet muddy hound before being buried in it, alone and-

“Sure. I know.” Killer inched closer with a curious tilt of his skull. “But you know what?”

“Killer.” A warning. A plea to take it easy after such an experience. Cross bunched up slightly, an automatic response to someone encroaching on his personal space. The ex-soldier watched in trepidation as Killer’s grin hitched up, signaling he was about to lay his next words on thick and dramatic.

“I don’t want the fireplace.” Killer placed a hand to his brow. “You have ruined me by providing your toasty body to warm me up after that boat incident in the harbor.”

Cross was glad Killer was recovering well from the whole buried in mud ordeal, but was this really the best way to cope with the nightmares that followed? Not that Cross really had a say in how anyone else handled their trauma, considering Cross himself didn’t always have the best coping methods either.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you Crossy?” Killer invaded Cross’ space confidently as he experimently slid a hand along the other’s jaw, lightly running the tips of his phalange along. “You’re hotter than any fire.” The bones clicked along, before the phalange trace the underside of Cross’ jaw. “A beacon in the dark to a cold bastard like me to watch your fine, fine backside while I get all warm and fuzzy. A burning presence that-urk!” Killer was cut off as he was suddenly yanked forward right where he wanted to be, his face pressed directly into Cross’ chest. “Hell yeah.” Came a muffled whimper of surprise.

“I’m too tired for this bullshit of yours.” Cross maneuvered an eager Killer away from his summoned deep purple ecto beneath the tank top (Killer protested this by squirming and trying to turn back around). With a grumble, Cross flipped Killer over again, then dragged him backward into his body, sleepily thinking how perfectly Killer fit the line of his body from chest to thighs as he burned off excess magic. “Go to sleep.” Maybe he could help the other skeleton monster stave off any lingering nightmares, like this. Because Killer did have a point that Crosd had shared his body heat, when Killer had been shivering from icy cold water after being flung from their fishing boat.

“Holy shit.” Killer wheezed out as Cross’ arms wrapped around his waist, one under his lower back and one below his wavering target soul over his waist. Killer’s breath hitched when Cross snuggled in closer and tucked the bodyguard’s skull beneath his jaw. Killer lie stunned, hands gripping the sheets before unlatching to go to Cross’ in a death grip of disbelief. Cross was spooning him! Damn, he really was warm and toasty. “You sure know how to treat a guy right, Cross.”

An actual honest answer.

Amazing.

Cross was too exhausted and emotionally compromised to think about that honestly.

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” Killer teased, but without the usual sass. “I have that effect on people.” Tacked on, as if to cover himself from having an emotion over being so close to Cross.

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.” The ex-soldier mumbled irritably (he was blushing, dammit) as he squeezed Killer tighter to him, in an effort to stop the excited squirming. Cross relaxed incrementally once Killer finally settled, albeit oddly letting out little wheezes of breath and twitches until Cross realized he’d been holding Killer too tightly and loosened his grip, horrified if the action and hoping he didn’t make Killer feel trapped like he had in that mud pit.

“Hngh.” Killer issued out unintelligibly before suddenly turning over in Cross’ arms to plant his face straight back into Cross’ chest, voice coming out dazed and muffled, hands drifting lower as the bodyguard cupped the back of Cross’ shorts experimentally. Killer sighed wistfully at what he found, tone shifting to cover unease as it became light and salicious. “Oh yeah, that’s the shit.”

“Killer…” Cross moved his arms, tenderly placing his hand to the back of Killer’s skull and cervical vertebrae, drawing out a delighted gleeful gasp. The ex-soldier proceeded to smother his bodyguard by shoving the Killer’s face harder into the tank covered ecto, prepared to let go the moment Killer showed any signs of discomfort. However, being crushed to solid ecto warmth apparently was a-okay to the other monster and Cross let out a patient sigh but a firm “Hands off!”

“Noooo your summoned ass feels great in my hands.” Killer protested, face smothered by ecto and not at all put out by this as his hands moved.

Cross let out a surprised yelp.

“And would you look at that? It slaps nicely under my hands too, soldier boy.”

Dream, peering into the room, shook his skull in bemusement over the sight of the ensuing wrestling match. He didn’t believe he was ever going to understand what kind of relationship was forming between Killer and Cross. But at the very least the two could find comfort in one another after what had happened. But Dream and Swap still had the culprits to deal with, even though the little group was no longer a threat. The would-be abductors could possibly have information to help piece together how Nightmare was getting instructions to others outside of his prison cell.

Killer suddenly let out a delighted whoop over being pinned onto his back on the bed by a fond of exasperated Cross, soul an inverted heart as a pale white eye light gazed up.

With a resigned sigh over the continued overtime, but happy both monsters were okay, Dream finally withdrew from the cracked open door to return to his own room. Dream idly wondered if Killer could still be employed as a bodyguard after this was all over with, when it was clear that not only was Killer interested in Cross’ well being despite being an ass, he also was very attracted to Cross, even if Killer would deny it was more than the ex-soldier’s body he was interested in. But that pale eye light fondly watching Cross with a soft smile was different than Dream had ever seen Killer direct to anyone since he’d know the bodyguard.

#undertale au #bodyguard au #cross sans #killer sans #cross x killer #snippet #a lil suggestive #Some hurt/comfort #left unspoken #kross ship #Some feels unaddressed b/c yes emotionally constipated skeleton monsters

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bambirex · 1 year

Note

Robin singing Nancy's fave song and saving her

Suddenly I had a mighty need for Nancy to be into Queen 😂

Warnings: none

"Nancy!? Nancy! Come on, Nancy, wake up!"

Screaming at her, pleading, crying were all futile. They've known this since Chrissy, since Max. If Vecna found you, you couldn't escape. You were too far gone.

Robin immediately knew something terrible has happened when she's heard Steve's frantic voice. When she looked through the hole in Eddie's ceiling, she saw her worst fear coming true: Nancy stood there, legs rooted into the ground, her eyes completely white and gone. Steve kept shaking her desperately, but nothing happened. Nancy was taken by the monster.

For a second, Robin's mind drew a blank. White-hot panic filled her brain, rendering her helpless. They couldn't lose Nancy.

Eventually, the fog cleared around her brain. She remembered the patients at the asylum, she remembered Max. There was only one way they could have still reached Nancy's mind.

"Quick, find some music!" She yelled. "Come on, everybody!"

While they skimmed through the albums in Eddie's room, Robin tried to remember what kind of music Nancy said she liked listening to. She liked Madonna, Blondie, David Bowie, Queen... but she hasn't found anything. The helpless pain gripped her heart again. She glanced down at Nancy, and prayed that some miracle would befall them.

"We can't find anything!" She yelled down at Steve. "There's no music here she would like!"

Not on an album, Robin suddenly realized. Maybe they couldn't play her anything, but that didn't mean they couldn't still give her a song that would bring her back.

Robin screamed at her friends to shut up, then she closed her eyes and cleared her throat. She hoped she remembered correctly that Nancy said she really liked Killer Queen, and it was the song she always listened to when she felt down.

She keeps her Moet et Chandon, in her pretty cabinet...

Robin didn't look at her friends' bewilderment. She only watched Nancy, hoping to see the dead fog leaving her eyes.

Let them eat cake, she said, just like Marie Antoinette...

Her voice wavered as tears burned her eyes, but she didn't care. Her voice needed to reach Nancy, and she could only hope it wasn't too late.

Caviar and cigarettes, well-versed in etiquette

Extraordinarily nice

"Something is happening!" Steve yelled. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he looked up. "Keep singing, Robin!"

Robin did. She sang at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face. She faintly heard Eddie humming next to him, trying to help her.

When she reached the first refrain, she saw Nancy stirring. Robin sang louder, her hands gripping at the sheets they used as ropes, trying to keep herself from collapsing.

A loud gasp interrupted her, and Nancy stumbled. Steve caught her before she could fall to the ground. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth, crying in relief.

"You're back," she whispered, barely able to see through her tears as Nancy looked up at her. "It worked!"

"You have a beautiful voice," Nancy said softly. Her eyes were tired and still so scared, but there was something else there, an emotion that made Robin's chest feel warm.

#ronance #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #my fic #request

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silversweetpea · 2 years

Text

Making a Decision

Word Count: 852

Pairing: The Corinthian x Reader

Summary: A quiet conversation, a silent decision, and love. Always love.

Warnings: A super brief mention of blood (literally just the word and knowledge that it is on the Corinthian), a comment that could be taken in a sexual manner but is meant more in the sense of cuddling and/or kiss. other than that it’s fluff folks (no one’s surprised lmao)

Author’s note: Do I know that he’s a literal serial killer? Yes. That being said there’s something extremely interesting about the Corinthian’s character to me and after so much time analyzing him I’ve gotten a bit obsessed and am looking for any excuse to show him kindness.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

“So, what now Rin?” The sunset is beautiful, shades of purple and pink that reminded you of the cotton candy still dissolving on your tongue. The day had been just as beautiful, your hand in the Corinthian’s as the two of you took turns dragging each other to different carnival rides or games. Only now that it was ending did you let yourself think of how much the way he was looking at you felt like a goodbye.

You wanted to take the glasses off his face, to rest them on the top of his head and see him in his entirety. The rest of the world may not care for it but you stopped caring about their opinion when you first slipped your hand into his and asked to run away with him. You didn’t, but you did allow your hand to come up and trace the sides of is face.

“We could open a bakery.” His lips curl into that snide smile you love, the one that lets you know he’s only mostly joking. Today though, knowing that your time is running out, it feels sad. It’s hard to tell if your partner is showing his hand that much or if you’re projecting your own emotions onto him. Either way the drawl brings a quiet laugh from you.

“I’m sorry what?”

“A bakery. You know. Breads. Doughnuts. Cakes with those little roses made of icing on them.” You entertain it for a minute. Let yourself really imagine the Corinthian in the kitchen, tan suit switched out for a much simplier shirt and pant pairing, flour across his apron and over his hands. You could run the cash register and he could create to his heart’s content.

He sounds so sure of himself when he suggested it, and when he brings his hands to rest on your hips, you close your eyes. You can pretend the wind that blows past you two smells like dough and that the two of you are swaying alone in your kitchen instead of in a small clearing next to a closed down carnival.

You want to say yes again. To siege that impulsiveness that came over you when you first saw him splattered with blood and asking your opinion on dreams. It wouldn’t be hard. in all the time the two of you shared together he had denied you very little, you could play into this fantasy for a minute couldn’t you? The two of you could be domestic, could be happy for longer than it took to scope out the next adrenaline rush.

“You are so not a bakery person.” You murmur, eyes open again just in time to catch the faux pout that he puts on. It takes everything in you not to close the distance and kiss him.

“Why not sweetheart? I know how to cook.”

“Oh I know you do.” He had insisted on taking over making breakfast quickly after realizing that you could barely cook toast without threatening to burn down whatever hotel or apartment you were based in. Sure, his service came at a price but it was never one you minded paying. “But you wouldn’t last a day in customer service before we’d be on the run again because you ate someone’s eyes.”

“Well if they don’t know how to say thank you to their cashier the world was better off without them.” The Corinthian smiles again and its like the sun shining down on you even as it sets just beyond the horizon. The shadows of night that are cast upon his face should make him scarier, should raise the hair on the back of your neck. Instead it reminds you that you love him and that even in the dark of night you know he would never hurt you. He may be the world’s nightmare but he was your dream.

“Rin,” The smile drops slowly, the slightly chiding tone making his grip on your hips ever so slightly tighter. “Seriously, what do we do now?”

There’s silence for a moment. When he pulls you into his chest, you let him. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want you to see his façade crack, to see the fear that’s been lingering in his smile since he told you his creator was looking for him, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I don’t know.” He sounds so small in that sentence and your own grip around him tightens.

“Okay.” He doesn’t respond. The Corinthian doesn’t need to. To his ears it sounds like an acceptance of the unknown. The truth of the matter, the more important decision that you make in that moment, is that you will do anything it takes to keep him from sounding so small ever again.

A king is meant to answer to his people and the king of dreams is no different. You are human, you sleep, you dream. The man in your arms is his creation, born from his hands and his thoughts and acting on the mission given to him. There are no two people he should fear answering to more.

#Corinthian x reader #Corinthian x you #corinthian x y/n #Corinthian x gender neutral reader #Corinthian fluff #Corinthian imagines #Corinthian headcanons

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softest-cinnamon-roll · 1 year

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✨navigation page✨

hi!!! I'm Amy, I'm 29 and I live in Scotland. I use she/her pronouns and I'm just a huge nerd who loves to write and express love for some dead gay wizards from the 70's! My inbox is always open for prompts or just for chatting! I also make typesets for self-binding!

AO3

COMPLETED FICS

in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you (jegulus ouat au) (MCD) (3k)

James had always hated the saying ‘villains don’t get their happy endings’. He had always been a firm believer that evil wasn’t born, it was made and that anyone could rid themselves of the darkness and turn to the light, if they only wanted it enough. It was why he had been so calm when Regulus had merged himself with the dagger, when he had become the newest Dark One. James knew, deep down, that Regulus wanted to be good, wanted to be rid of the darkness. Regulus wasn’t a villain. Not to James. Then Camelot happened, and everything changed. OR; Regulus Black dies at the hands of James Potter.

can i go where you go? (jegulus) (MCD) (2.5k)

It’s strange how things can go from being so utterly perfect in one moment, to being absolutely devastating the next. It’s strange how life can do a complete one-eighty.

let me try (jegulus) (4.1k)

“James.” “Regulus.” They stared at one another, neither one of them willing to break eye contact. James wanted to scream, but he held his tongue. “James…” Regulus trailed off, breaking eye contact. “I’m- I’m one of them now.” (Or, Regulus is forced to take the dark mark on his sixteenth birthday and James won't stand for it.)

she rings like a bell through the night (wouldn't you love to love her?) (marylily) (4.3k)

Lily Evans was a firm believer in one fact. That fact was that if someone came into her life, it was for a reason. Whether that reason was to give her advice, to teach her a lesson or to open her heart to love, it didn’t matter. The reason was just that, the reason.When Lily was five years old, she met three people who would each coincide with those three exact reasons.(OR three people come into Lily Evans' life at the age of five. James Potter, Mary MacDonald and Severus Snape. Each with a reason. This is her story.)

of birthday parties, enticing cakes and diamond rings (wolfstar) (2.1k)

His boyfriend did not know how to keep a secret. When Remus woke up on the morning of March 10th, the spring morning sun shining through the crack in the curtains of their bedroom, the first thing he could smell was burning toast. Quickly followed by the curses of his boyfriend…who was probably attempting to make him breakfast in bed. Well, better put the poor sod out of his misery then. [it's Remus Lupin's 21st birthday]

WIP FICS

may these memories break our fall (5/7) (jegulus) (afterlife au) (MCD but they are dead before it even starts soooo) (19.1k)

When Harry destroys Voldemort, Regulus’ soul is finally freed from the cave and allowed to move on. Slowly, he makes his way home.

IN THE WORKS FICS

jeglus x wolfstar winter olympics fic (figure skater!regulus, ice hockey player!james, mentor!sirius + classic jegulus + wolfstar fairytale au i thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around (plane fic) serial killer regulus fic hangover au/james stag do + wedding 5+1 funeral fic

TYPESETS

(please note that these are not formatted for external printing, only for printing at home! please do not use these to print via Barnes and Noble or LULU.)

Art Heist, Baby!

#masterlist

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the-story-forge · 8 months

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⚠️Warning this story has extreme graphic adult content, viewer discretion is advised! ⚠

Chapter 1 - First Contact FROM BEYOND THE STARS, TEARING THE SKY APART COMES THE HEIR OF WRATH, THE PRINCE OF GOLD THE BRINGER OF THE END OF DAYS, THE WORLD KILLER November 1823, 200 Years Before The Sparrow

Burning golden light lit the sky like a torch. The atmosphere lit a flame like a match and amongst the chaotic fires of the sky fell the answer. Just outside of Midnight Village is where this answer landed. A massive boom sounded from the impact.

The boom startled Lena Moore out of her sleep. Lena caught her breath and set her feet on the floor moving to the window. Lena could see the crater it wasn't far. She grabbed for her jacket and Lena opened the door to her bedroom, her father rounded the corner.

"What was that?" Dan Moore asked his teen daughter.

"Something crashed in the backyard!" Lena said running for the door to the house.

"Lena wait!" Dan yelled chasing after her.

Lena made her way around the back of thew house towards the crater. Owls called into the night and the course grass was rough, but she didn't care. All Lena had longed for was adventure. She wasn't the type to hide behind the men and cower in fear. If something interested her, she went for it.

She stopped at the edge gazing down into the newly formed hole, and what she saw was unbelievable.

Among the rubble lay a man, caked in sweat and unconscious. Naked and fit. A head of dark hair and muscles as big as Lena's head.

Dan Moore managed to catch up with his daughter and saw the same sight down below. His mouth agape he just stared.

The man stirred and Dan raised his gun.

"Wait!" Lena said and slid down the crater.

"Lena stop he could be dangerous!"

Lena ignored her father and approached the man; he looked up at her and although the man said nothing, his eyes gave Lena the impression he was a friend.

Lena removed her jacket, and knelt beside him. At first the man recoiled but Lena reassured him moving slower.

"It'll warm you," she held the jacket out and he reluctantly let her put it around him.

"What's your name?" Lena asked him.

"Titan," he answered.

"Well Titan let's get you inside where it's warm, and maybe find you some clothes," Lena smiled.

Written by Phoenix Rose

Characters and Story Created by Phoenix Rose

A Story Forge Production

#drama #fic #fics #original content #story forge #the story forge #writings

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hellshoard · 6 months

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@qveenofgluttony | @infernal-feminae open mic night.

[Chorus] I wanted you to know That I am ready to go, heartbeat My heartbeat I wanted you to know Whenever you are around, can't speak I can't speak I wanted you to know That I am ready to go, heartbeat My heartbeat I wanted you to know Whenever you are around, can't speak I can't speak

[Verse 1] I know what your boy like Skinny tie and a cuff type He go and make breakfast You walkin' round naked I might just text you Turn your phone over When it's all over, no settlin' down My text go to your screen, you know better than that I come around when you least expect me I'm sittin' at the bar when your glass is empty You thinkin' that this song's comin' on to tempt me I need to be alone like the way you left me

You start callin'; you start crying I come over; I'm inside you I can't find you, the girl that I once had But the sex that we have isn't half bad Text say that "It's not fair" That's code for "He's not here" And I'ma flirt with this new girl And I'ma call if it don't work So we fuck 'til it come to conclusions All the things that we thought we were losin' I'm a ghost, and you know this That's why we broke up in the first place, 'cause

[Verse 2] It's late-night Thursday I know that you heard me But you don't want the same thing Hmm, well, two can play that game So I'm chillin' with my girlfriend But she not my real girlfriend She got a key to my place but She not my real girlfriend Stupid, so dummy Say the wrong thing, and wrong girls come runnin' I'm paranoid that these girls want somethin' from me And it's hard to make a dime go one-hunnid And my dude freakin' out over a worse fate She on time, but she late for they first date 'Cause he went and tried out a new condom Slipped off in a threesome, good problems? Right? Wrong Askin' 'em if she'd wanna play games We the Super Smash Brothers, but none of 'em you I miss the sex where you kiss whenever you through Sixty-nine is the only dinner for two I was wrong, but would you have listened to you? Uh, you were crazy I got a heart, but the art of choking's Only thing girls want when you in that smoke and light

[Verse 3] So we're done? This the real shit? We used to hold hands like field trips I'm a jerk, but your dude is a real dick I read his posts on your wall, and I feel sick He ain't cool, he ball and all that But he just a fake nigga who blog in all caps You couldn't wait to date I'm goin' straight for your thighs like the cake you ate I give a fuck about the niggas that you say you ate You know that I’m the best when I’m a-fake-tionate I'm the best that you had, face it J. and Keyshia are related: racist I give you money; then you burn me (Bernie), then you made off (Madoff) She ain't a killer, but she'd fuckin' blow your head off I know he wonderin', "What the fuck you hidin'?" That we dated like raps about Bin Laden; ayo, fuck this Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' In between that? I wish we never fucked, and I mean that

[Outro] But not really You say the nastiest shit in bed, and it’s fuckin’ awesome

#`embodiment of lust` ozzie #event: masquerade ball #qveenofgluttony #infernal feminae #(more under the cut post since it's long)

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kittrrrr · 2 years

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Inktobertale (25-28)

======(25) It took Nightmare, Dream and Killer to hold him back. Ink was on a yellow high, and it was going to be a mess. First he ruined the newly decorated living room. He tore up all of Dream's sheets, and Ink got into the spray paint. Blue started to hope that the house would burn down again so that it would get rid of the smell of paint. But Dream can home, but before his portal could close, Ink rammed into him, sending him and Dream back from where Dream came. Nightmare's castle. Cross, Dust and Horror where sleeping over at Error's place, so only Killer was with Nightmare.

Killer had just finished watching a very boring chess game between Nightmare and Dream when Ink ran in, being chased by Dream. Ink knocked over Killer and the chess table before anyone could do anything. Dream helped Killer up, and said, with a shrug.

"Yellow." Killer and Nightmare nodded and they ran after Ink. They ran around the castle until they decided to trap him. Nightmare asked what Ink liked to eat when he was on a yellow high. The answer was sugar, of course. So, with Killer and Dream guarding the entrance to the kitchen, Nightmare baked a chocolate cake with frosted flowers. They laid the trap, and waited for long a few moments longer. Then Ink came in streaking like a comet.

The trap was strung, sending cake all over the walls, dousing Dream, Killer and Nightmare in still wet frosting, and warm cake. Ink thrasted in the net, breaking free after a moment and Killer lept on him, which did nothing for the mess. Dream grabbed the other side and Nightmare from behind, wrapping them in all of his tentacles expect one. he called Error and told him to bring the boys to the third floor left main hall.

With the help of Error and the rest of Nightmare's gang, everyone managed to get Ink into a epoxy box, designed for the purpose. With air holes, duh! Only an hour later, Ink came off of his high with a cough of paint. In all truths told, it wasn't a bad high. It only lasted a few hours, and it didn't end with Ink vomiting paint everywhere. And It only ended with one ruined house. Last time Ink had a yellow high, he totaled half of the multiverse within a day. The lesson? Ink's totally a paint demon. =====(26) Ink grabbed his phone, and he knew exactly who to call. A few minutes later, Dust, Cross, and Killer where at the door of the Star Sanses' base.

"Are you ready?" Ink asked, after he let them in. They were standing in front of the couch (As it still had not been repaired from Ink's yellow high a day ago), and he was pacing in front of them. "Because today we will face our greatest threat, our biggest enemies." Dramatic silence reigned over them for a long time. Dust coughed, and when the spell had been broken by the sound, Ink finally added who they were fighting.

"Dream's plants."

"Hell yeah!" Killer nearly screamed.

"There is something unnatural about them." Horror added

"Why the hell not?" Cross and Dust asked at the same time.

"We face even greater challenge because Blue is in the house, and must not know." Ink added. Everyone smiled. This was going to be fun. After a quick stop to Ink's workshop to arm themselves, our likely foursome trooped up the stairs. To the left and down the hall at the very end was Dream's greenhouse/office. Ink opened the door. Inside, plant grew everywhere.

"Go!" Ink pulled out Broomie and covered some plants in acidic paint that made them wilt and crumble. Cross pulled the leaves off a struggling plant and broke off the stem. Horror ate one. Killer pulled out some paint and poured it over some of the plants. He'd figured it was like the paint that Ink had just spread over some of the plant as a his first attack, but it didn't do anything. With a shrug, Killer just slashed them with his knife. And they lit on fire.

"Now this is more like it." He said, and turned away, to destroy more plants. Not even twenty minutes later, the plants were gone. As well as most of the room. Why? Killer left his fire unattended, and they had to leave. Ink put out the fire before it could spread, though, so no house fire. Dream was too relieved to be gone of the apple tree to be mad about the plants, and Nightmare was glad to have an excuse to give Dream more plants. =====(27) Ink looked at the cavanas. He was happy with how they looked. The first was that of a Sans with a lonely expression. Other then that, though, his eyes were hard and unreadable. He seemed to stand out against the other sketched characters. The second canvas was a painting of one of Ink's favorite photos. It was exposed to be of the Star Sanses, but Ink dumped paint on them and Dream chased him. The camera fell off as Dream started to chase him, so it was pretty funny.

"It's missing something..." Ink said to no one. It was the middle of the night, after all. "Ah!" Ink grabbed a brush and painted a line across the two. I was loveless... Was.

Ink smiled. He dried the paint with a handy hair dryer and shoved the completed paintings under a sheet in a random box. It was for him only... Because he's the only person who needs to know. =======(28) Ink was racing around the house. He was looking for one of the most important things he owned. Broomie. Luckily, or lucklessily, Blue and Dream were at Nightmare's castle, helping put up Halloween decorations. And he- Well, Blue had been hesitant, but had agreed after Ink promised to bring some of their friends over- he was in charge of decorating the Star Sanses' base. But he couldn't do that if he didn't know where Broomie was.

"Broomie? Broomie!" Ink speed around a corner and rip open a room. Broomie was sitting in the corner. "Broomie! Where were you? We've got work to do!"

"I thought we were playing Hide 'n' Seek." Broomie spoke in Ink's mind, faux innocently.

"I thought I lost you again." Ink said moving to pick up Broomie.

"Well you found me. C'mon, you said we have work to do?"

"Yeah, and that's the door!" Ink teleported in time to let Stardust, Outer, and Blueberry into the house.

"Are we late?" Blueberry asked softly.

"Not at all! Let's hurry! I bet Blue five bucks that I couldn't get the house decorated properly before he and Dream came back!" Stardust tsked- he didn't approve of betting, but he wasn't going to complain. Not when they had to decorate the entire house in under two hours. And Ink's not gonna settle for half-best...

#dream sans #nightmare sans #cross sans #dust sans #horror sans #yeah it was killer #killer sans #inktobertale #ink sans

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