#ran out of characters for that last tag but you get what i mean right

[beauty-brains-braun]

Blackout

18+ Minors DNI

A power outage leaves you alone with your best friend's roommate. You don't mean to use it as an opportunity to ask Megumi Fushiguru why he hates you, it just slips out. You really don't expect his answer.

warnings/tags:  Smut, PWP, a little bit of praise-kink, aged-up characters, penis in vagina sex

Reader has a vagina, otherwise is non-descript

You and Megumi were alone when the power went out. You'd been in his and Yuji's shared apartment, waiting for the other man to bring you the house keys you definitely sort-of needed to get into your own apartment. You'd made it all of the way home when you realized he'd snatched the wrong set off the table when you were all having drinks earlier. Only when the key wouldn’t fit in your lock did you realize the almost matching keychains you and Yuji had gotten hadn't been the best idea. 

Of course you then walked all of the way here only to find out Yuji had been called to exorcize a curse. You'd barely been here a minute when the outage happened. Now you were in the dark with a man who didn't seem to be able to stand you. This was not your night.

"Perfect" you muttered.

"What?" Megumi asked.

"Nothing." You told him. You took a couple of steps forward and ran right into him. "Shit, sorry!" You felt his hands on your arms as he reached out to steady you on instinct. 

He didn't say anything, just sort of grunted and moved around you. His phone flashlight turned on a few seconds later in the kitchen area and you used the light to navigate to the couch. If you were sitting, you figured you wouldn't be able to run into anything. 

He lit a candle and brought it over to the coffee table. “My phone’s almost dead, better conserve the battery.”

Yours was dead. That’s why you had made it all of the way here before you found out Yuji wasn’t even at home. You fought back a groan, letting your head drop back onto the couch behind you. You heard a clunk and looked up to find Megumi setting a bottle of wine and two glasses in front of you. Yes please.

You accepted a glass with gratitude as Megumi sat on the couch next to you and an awkward silence immediately enveloped you both.

It had been like this with you and Megumi for as long as you could remember. You’d tried befriending him the way you had Yuji and Nobara when you first transferred to Jujutsu High School but he would never stay in the same room with you long enough, always suddenly finding somewhere else he needed to be. On the occasions you were stuck together, you’d tried getting to know him but he would only give one worded answers and refuse to look at you. It quickly became more frustrating than it was worth and you gave up. All of this was made worse by how insanely attractive you found him, even now. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where he’d grabbed you when you bumped into him earlier but you were doing your best to ignore that. 

Yuji had been bugging you lately to try again. Said that this was just how Megumi was, and to an extent you knew that was true, the man was pretty quiet. But he wasn’t quite like this with anyone else and you didn’t have the patience you used to have to just keep trying and trying. 

“How did that Special Grade mission go last weekend?”

You almost dropped your wine glass, had he just asked you a question? You stared at him for a second too long before answering. “Uhm, it was good.” You drained the rest of the wine in your glass. “Pretty tough but not the worst one I’ve fault.”

He nodded and leaned forwards to refill your glass. You could see his eyelashes even in this dim lighting and had to make yourself look away. “What about you? Anything interesting lately?”

“Same old, same old. It's good that it’s been quiet, I guess. It’s just sort of..” Megumi trailed off.  

“Boring.” You finished his thought.

“I feel awful saying that, but yeah.”

The awkward silence was back almost immediately. You racked your  brain desperately for something to talk about. For anything to say other than “Why don’t you like me?”

“What?”

Holy shit you did not say it out loud. You looked over to see Megumi staring, sitting so still he could have been frozen. You had said out loud. What was wrong with you? You felt your skin heating from embarrassment but fuck it. It was out there, might as well commit.

“You’ve always avoided me, Fushiguru. Tonight is probably the most you’ve ever said to me in all of the years we’ve known each other. So yeah, you obviously don’t like me, I just have never known why.” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Megumi drain his glass of wine and put the empty glass on the coffee table before answering. 

“You think I don’t like you?” he clarified.

“Obviously.”

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” You hadn’t expected him to deny it. He wasn’t really the type of guy who would lie to spare anyone’s feelings.

“You’re wrong.” He said again, firmly.

“You can barely stand to be in the same room with me.” You pointed out incredulously. 

Megumi sighed but didn’t deny it. Instead he shifted closer to you. “It’s not because I don’t like you, though.”

You blinked at him, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It wouldn’t to you I guess.” He sighed again and moved closer to you again, raising himself so one knee dug into the couch and he towered over you a little. “You and Yuju got close fast. Instantly almost. It seemed pretty obvious to me that you would be end-game. That it was only a matter of time for you to get together and live out your happily ever afters in each other’s arms.”

You blink again at the bitterness in his voice, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other. “Yuji’s my best friend, I’ve never wanted anything more and neither has he.”

“Well, five years later, it’s definitely started to seem that that’s the case, but I’ve always waited for the other shoe to drop. Afraid if I was too close to you, I would break.”

He was even closer now, leaning down into your space, his gorgeous eyes reflecting the light from the candle. You swallowed hard. “Break?” you asked.

“Break.” He confirmed. And he did.

Megumi’s mouth met your own, gently at first until he felt you kiss him back. Until he felt you melt into him. Then he deepened the kiss, his hands cradling the back of your head. 

You felt his tongue touch your lips and you opened for him, mind reeling in shock. Megumi Fushiguru didn’t hate you. He more than didn’t hate you, he was kissing you! He pressed against you until you lay back on the couch and followed you down, mouth moving down to your neck. 

Everywhere his mouth touched felt like it was on fire and you felt an ache deep in your core. You shifted, raising a knee so he fit against you perfectly. His cock was pressed against you and another ache coursed through you when you realized how hard he was for you. 

He pulled away from you suddenly and you let out a whine of protest. 

“Tell me to stop” he said, searching your face for any hint that that was what you wanted. 

“Don't you dare” you said breathlessly, pulling him back down to kiss you again. You felt him smile against your mouth and then his fingers were against your skin, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. You heard each one hit the floor somewhere across the room but forgot about them the moment Megumi’s mouth was on one nipple, his fingers tugging at the other until you were a dripping, quivering mess. 

“Please” left your mouth before you even realized you said it and his eyes met your own in question. “Please fuck me” you begged, watching his gaze darken.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed of tasting you but I’m not going to make it if you beg.”

“Later. Tomorrow, I don’t care, I need you inside me.” And you did. You’d never needed anything more, you’d never felt more empty. It felt like there was a drum beating deep inside you. You struggled to remove his pants and he moved to help you. Your hand curled around his cock when it sprang free and he let loose a his of pleasure. Moving just enough to remove your own pants while you pumped him in your hand. 

He pushed one of his long fingers inside you and you gasped at the feeling. You had always been a little too interested in Megum’s hands and as he added a second finger, you realized it was for good reason. You were seeing stars from this alone.  Tender kisses trailed your collarbone and you whined when he pulled his fingers from you. 

“Shhhh” He soothed you and seconds later you felt his tip against you, gathering your wetness, before he slowly, too slowly maybe, started to push into you.

“Fuck” you breathed as he bottomed out inside you. The stretch of him almost burned but it still felt good. Felt right. He’d stopped, giving you time to adjust to his size and you groaned.

“Megumi, please. Please move.” You begged, not even feeling embarrassed at the smirk that pulled at his mouth. 

“You beg so nicely”. He pulled out and thrust back in suddenly. 

You tightened your legs around him as if you could keep him inside you forever. He pulled almost all of the way back out and thrust back in again, his mouth meeting yours when you moaned. He set a steady rhythm fucking into you and out of you, drinking in the sounds of praise falling from your lips. You felt something coiling tight in your lower stomach, so tight you knew it would snap soon.

“You feel so good. I couldn’t have imagined you’d feel this perfect” Megumi said in your ear. He changed the angle of his hips causing his cock to hit that one spot deep inside that made you see stars. He thrust in again and you were lost. That something deep inside you that had been winding up snapped and you came, crying out his name.

Megumi’s fingers dug harder into your thighs but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through your orgasm even as you tightened around him and he had to fight not to follow you just yet. 

He leaned in to kiss you and muttered “good girl” against your lips, making your pussy clench and heart flutter. He pulled out and flipped you over quickly before thrusting back in.

A cry of pleasure left you as the new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper than before. You lost yourself in him, in the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you, in the small sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth, in the feeling of his skin on yours. 

He pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest and he could kiss your neck. You could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic and knew he must be close. He wasn’t the only one. 

Megumi’s fingers found your clit and rubbed circles until you were coming again, thankful Megumi’s other arm was still keeping you upright because you never would have managed it on your own. You hear him curse and suddenly he’s pulling out of you and you feel his release splatter across your ass and thighs.

The room is so silent without the constant hum of electricity that usually surrounds you so the sounds of you trying to catch your breath seem so much louder than normal.

“You okay?” Megumi’s voice was so quiet you looked over at him, the dim light of the candle reflecting off his eyes. “Was that too much?”

A huff of surprised amusement left you. He was nervous. He fucked you like thatt and now he was nervous. “Too much?” You asked. “That was amazing.” His mouth curved up in a small smile and he leaned in to kiss you, the movement so tentative compared to his actions from earlier. You leaned into him, kissing him back encouragingly. 

A sound from outside the door made you both tense and he jerked away, blowing the candle out seconds before the door opened. You both sat frozen as Yuji entered the apartment, dropping something to the floor and calling your name on his way in. 

You moved slowly, reaching for your clothes in the dark. Your fingers closed around the fabric you recognized as your shirt and you feel relief course through you as you pull it closer. Naturally that was the moment the power kicked back on. Light flooded the apartment suddenly, almost blinding you. A screech left Yuji’s mouth and you winced, rushing to pull your shirt on.

“Oh my god!” He yelled, hands flying up to cover his eyes. “Oh. My. God. Finally! But I mean, on the couch?!” 

“Stop yelling.” Megumi groaned, pulling up his pants, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment in a way you couldn’t help but find adorable even as you prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you.

“You’re buying us a new couch, Fushiguru!” Yuji shouted, pointing accusingly in the other man’s direction, with his eyes still squeezed shut.

“Stop yelling!”

“Just wait until I tell Kugasaki! She’d almost given up. I am serious about the couch by the-” a pillow from the couch hit him hard in the face, cutting him off and knocking him on his ass.  

Megumi looked over at you in surprise and you smiled at him and shrugged. “He’ll go all night if someone doesn’t shut him up.”

He smiled back at you and stepped closer, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Wait, was that one of your sex pillows? Gross!”

#jjk smut #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader

[buckets-and-trees]

Unholy Errand

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x female!Reader, God the Bounty Hunter x female!Reader, Ransom Drysdale Word Count: 4k

Summary: You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss.

Content Warnings: non-consent and dubious consent, cuckolding, bondage, knife play, dacryphilia, oral (m and f receiving), cumplay, spitting, facial/marking, groping, spanking, clothed males naked female, coarse language, mild but irreverent use of religious terminology/themes (we’ve got a bounty hunter who refers to himself as God – we’re not committing hard to the bit, but we are using the bit), use of pet names + no y/n

Notes: I was happily working on some other lovely things last weekend, and then Sunday afternoon, totally unprovoked, a rogue muse crept up and whispered, "Lloyd and God..." and my brain broke, and I told @navybrat817 and she immediately enabled/encouraged the sprouting of this fic (and helped identify exactly who these two would be after). I thought this might be fifteen hundred words... and then it hit 2k, and then 3k, and they still weren't done with poor Reader, so...

Additional Notes: First time writing Lloyd, God, or Ransom in any capacity. This is also straight up the filthiest thing I've gone all in on. Is it the filthiest thing that exists on the internet? Of course not, but my filthiest and READ THE TAGS. This is NOT your standard Aspen fic. But was this a bit of a riot to write? Yep. It had a chokehold on me all week, and I stayed up far too late to finish it off tonight because... if I didn't, life would've prevented me finishing for a couple more days, and I've been too eager to push this out.

The clearing of his throat is what pulls your attention. You look up from your desk, taking in long legs in impossibly tight white slacks showing too much ankle, and a torso clad in a black turtleneck and blazer. A thick mustache lives above his smirk. He was too silent entering the offices, and he knows it, seems to revel in unsettling you. “Lloyd Hansen, the six o’clock appointment.”

“Yes, if you’ll follow me right this way,” you proffer politely, and move smoothly out of your chair, leading him to the door of your boss’s office. You give a short knock and open the door, announcing, “Lloyd Hansen, sir,” as you briefly step inside, holding the door open for the man.

He’s still smirking as he passes by, and then you sweep back out, but not before hearing Lloyd whistle and say, “Fancy shit you got yourself in this office, Ran,” as you close the door on them.

You sigh as you sit back down at your desk. Lloyd is your boss’s last meeting of the night, and he had seemed more than perturbed when he said to go ahead and accept the last-minute request Lloyd had made for the appointment. While this is the meeting of the day, Mr. Drysdale had made it clear he was staying late, which means you are also staying late, so you pull out the file of menus you keep in your desk and begin mulling over where to order dinner from tonight.

There’s a succession of loud thuds on the other side of the wall, and you only hesitate for a second before rushing into the office.

You stop dead, a small cry escaping your lips as you watch Lloyd wrestling Ransom to the ground.

“You may be sorry you disturbed us, sweetie, but since you’re here, be a good girl and close and lock that door so we don’t get interrupted by anyone else.”

You hesitate, staring in horror at the display before you: books knocked off the shelves, everything that’s usually so immaculately placed askew on the desk, a lamp overturned, Ransom Drysdale on the floor of his office with Lloyd Hansen’s knee pressed into his back and both arms pulled taught behind him while Lloyd binds his wrists together with the Hermes ascot scarf ripped from Ransom’s own neck.

Lloyd clucks his tongue. “Lock the door or I start cutting his fingers off. Barnes and Rogers only said they want your boss alive; they didn’t say how much of him still needs to be intact.”

“Do it,” Ransom grunts, turning his head away from you, clearly embarrassed at his predicament.

You turn and slowly close the door. You know there are still people working at Blood Like Wine tonight, and while it’s not likely that any of them will be passing through this wing after normal business hours, it’s probably safer that they stay out than accidentally stumble into whatever this dangerous mess is evolving into. You wished you had suppressed your own urge to investigate.

When you turn back around, Lloyd is unbuckling his belt as he continues to kneel against Ransoms back. He pulls it out, uses it to gag Ransom, giving it an additional tug after already pulling it tightly, and fastens it off.

“There, that’s just about perfect.”

“What are-?” You venture to ask, but he abruptly cuts you off.

“No one asked you to talk, sweetie, now come away from that door.”

You only take two reluctant steps towards them when there’s a scraping of wood that draws everyone’s attention to the opposite side of the room.

A piece of the floor is slowly being lifted from below, pushed out of the way, and then another man pops up from out of the floor. He hefts himself out of the hole in the floor and then drops a duffel bag on the floor, the heavy sound of muffled metal hinting at the equipment he’s brought with him.

“Oh, good, you’ve already done some of my work for me,” the tall, dark-haired man appraises the situation he’s just stepped into.

“Who the fuck are you, and where’d you come from?”

“Clearly you watched me ascend from a trapdoor in the floor.” He stalks over to stand in front of the large mahogany desk and sits back on the edge. “You didn’t think Harlan Thrombey - noted mystery author - wouldn’t have a publishing house full of trapdoors and secret passageways?”

“Didn’t need to, walked right in the front door. Still waiting to find out who you are.”

“God the Bounty Hunter.”

“Ooh,” Lloyd cocks his head, and another one of his smirks returns, “I can’t say I hate the audacity. Very bold. But there are a lot of gods and only one Lloyd Hansen.

“Now we’re clearly both here because of the hit put out for this prick, but since there are two of them and two of us, why don’t you make yourself useful, God, and tie up this little Margaret while I get Ransom nice and comfortable here.”

“With pleasure,” God says, and beckons you over to him.

The way he fixes you with his gaze is so intense you can’t to resist his silent command. He stands when you’re just a foot or two away, puts a ringer under your chin to tilt your head up, and looks down into your face. You don’t dare look away, nor do you want to, for some reason.

After another moment, he lets your chin drop, and God begins to circle you, looking you up and down. You hold very still. “You don’t need to be tied up, do you? You like to behave, to be praised.”

Lloyd lets out a loud, longsuffering sigh. “Fine, it can be more fun when they’re tied up, but I’m not picky as long as I get what I want.” Then his tone changes, directing his next words at you. “Understand, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Good.” With that, Lloyd pushes his knee roughly into Ransom’s back, drawing a painful groan from the bound man, before standing and hauling Ransom up with him. He shoves Ransom down to sit on the couch that faces the desk in the small entertaining area of Ransom’s office. “Now Relax, let me pour myself a drink. No reason we can’t enjoy ourselves for a few minutes, for old time’s sake.”

While Lloyd pours some bourbon, God steps right up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. He moves your hair off your shoulder, and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You be very good, and I’ll make you my angel.” You can’t help but shiver - it’s the heat of his breath at your neck and the promised threat - and you know he notices your reaction, because there’s a soft, dark chuckle before he presses a hot kiss to the base of your neck. His hand comes around to your front, toying with the edge of your open collar, and then he lightly draws his index finger along your clavicle and then up the other side of your neck. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you gasp when his other hand quickly pushes a small piece of metal right below your ear.

“And what’s that?” Lloyd asks, not missing the tagging.

“A little incentive for obedience,” God answers. “Fifty-thousand volts when fully unleashed.”

There’s a non-electrically generated jolt in your stomach, but it’s not pure fear, it’s tinged with a little adrenaline as well.

“Huh. To each his own. Now down to business, Ran.”

God steps back and then leans on the edge of the desk again. He pulls you to stand between his legs, your back up against his chest, and his hands settle on your shoulders. Standing against him like this has your hips aligned with his, and you have no doubt it’s setting the stage for his intentions, even if it seems harmless enough now. It mimics a familiarity between partners that is both soothing and unsettling.

Across the room, Lloyd takes a seat on the other side of the couch from Ransom, drink in one hand, and draping his arm casually along the back of the couch. “It was quite a convenient circumstance that even had me nearby to make this social call Ransom. Couldn’t be happier that I’d get to drop in on you for something like this. Ransom and I both went to Yale, you know,” he tosses this part across the room to you and God. “Even ended up in the same fraternity. But he was a senior, I was a freshman. Didn’t spare me the time of day except for the hazing, right?”

His focus shifts back to Ransom, who only gives Lloyd a cold stare, unmoving, clearly not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction of any emotional reactions.

God’s hands shift from your shoulders and begin to stroke up and down your arms.

“Why am I boring us all with the backstory though? Old college buddies is pretty typical. You know what’s not typical? Barnes and Rogers putting a bounty out for someone. They’ve got their own guys, and you’re not hard to find.”

The hands move from your arms to your waist, moving up and down your ribs, and still Lloyd keeps talking.

“So, either you’re too important and they wanted the closest person available to pick you up and make a rush delivery to their door, or you’re not important enough for them to want to dispatch any of their own men to deal with you. Outsourcing because you’re still an inconvenience to them, and they can’t let you go unpunished.

Strong hands on your hips.

“Maybe you can prove to be useful tonight, sweetie. How long have you worked for Ranny here?”

You don’t know if you should be surprised that he’s turned his attention to you for questioning, but you do your best to keep your mind focused as you answer him. “I’ve worked for Mr. Drysdale for – oh –” God starts rubbing circles over your hipbones, applying more pressure and pushing you back against a very prominent erection “– a little over seven months.”

“Mr. Drysdale, eh?” Lloyd’s perennial smirk grows, and he tilts his head, tsking again. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not assisting him after hours, I told you we were in the same frat, so I know what this bastard gets up to.”

Your mouth drops open a little, and Lloyd looks from you to Ransom, whose cold stare has turned into an unmistakable glare.

“Oho! So, she does only assist you professionally?” Lloyd laughs, seemingly out of genuine amusement. “You really are useless, Ranny.”

God is still relentless in touching you, exploring over and even under the clothing, one of his hands sliding down your leg to slip under your skirt to skim up your thigh, and the other stroking just under your breasts, calculated touches to evoke responses but not yet to take or give any more satisfaction.

Both strangers are demanding your attention, and you’re almost evenly divided between Lloyd’s words and God’s actions.

“She probably would’ve slept with you the first two weeks on the job, but now she’s gotta know you’re an insufferable prick.”

Would you have? You don’t think either statement is true. You were never drawn in by Ransom, and since working for him, you’ve only been focused on doing your job well, getting a good paycheck, and going home. Ransom wasn’t particularly demanding compared to other executives, and so you had only wanted him to continue to respect and rely on your assistance so he’d find you indispensable and raise your salary regularly.

God finally speaks again. “We should let the man see what he’ll never have.”

Lloyd sits back in the chair. “I’m not opposed.”

Your face burned. There was no question what he meant, and you did not want Ransom to see you on display, but Lloyd is intimidating and God is intoxicating, so you can do no more than comply as God unzips your skirt and pushes it to the floor.

Next he turns you around and works on the buttons of your shirt, in no hurry, putting your ass on display for Lloyd and Ransom while torturing you with more of the heated, intense eye contact that makes you nearly forget to breathe.

You’re only warned that Lloyd’s behind you when God looks over your shoulder, and you turn your head, but before you can fully face him, his hand has come down against your ass with enough force that you fall against God’s chest. He spanks you again, harder, and you whimper in God’s arms, your head falling against his shoulder with the sting and shock and humiliation.

Then, in another quick turn of events, Lloyd grasps the waistband of your panties with one hand, and you briefly feel the chill of metal against your skin as he slips a knife under the fabric and then slashes them away with two strokes and throws the fabric on the desk.

“Move, God, I want her up on the desk.”

God stands again, and he pulls your shirt off your shoulders as he moves away.

Lloyd could unclasp your bra, but of course Lloyd uses the knife to slice through the band.

“Drop it,” he instructs.

With a deep, steadying breath, you do as he says.

“Turn and sit up on the desk for us.”

You’ve taken hundreds of orders from this office, completing tasks you enjoyed and hated, this can be just another of those.

“Open those thighs for us all to see, sweetie.”

You close your eyes. You know what they will see, and the shame burns in your stomach.

Lloyd taps the flat part of his knife just above your knee. “Now.”

You bite your lip and look at the ground as you spread your legs. Lloyd presses the edge of the knife to the flesh of your inner thigh, forcing you to spread even wider if you don’t want him to cut into you.

Lloyd brings his knife to your chin to tilt your face up to look at him as he traces your wet folds with two fingers. The smirk is gone, replaced by a wicked grin. “Nice and slick for us.”

“God’s handiwork,” the other man is quick to note.

“Sure. A nice little sacrificial offering. Now, Ransom, since you’ve never had a taste, seems a shame not to give you a sample,” Lloyd says.

Ransom shifts and begins to stand, but Lloyd turns abruptly and points at him with the knife. “Stay there, you dumb fuck.”

Ransom sits back again.

“And don’t you dare look away.” He looks to God. “Shoot him if he does.”

God pulls a gun from behind his back that he must have had tucked into his waistband. You watch as he moves to the other side of the room and stands behind Ransom. He plants his gun at the base of Ransom’s skull, then locks eyes with you again. It’s clear he doesn’t want take his eyes off you if he’s going to have to ensure Ransom doesn’t either. Something in your chest stirs under his rapt attention.

Lloyd demands your attention again as he grips your hips and pulls you to the edge of the mahogany desk. He slaps your pussy, drawing a sharp cry from you, then drops down to delve between your thighs. He gives your clit a vicious nip, and you bit back another yelp. His tongue plunders into your cunt, licking and sucking, and your hands are moving to grasp his skull to anchor yourself, but he’s already pulling away. As he stands, he yanks you off the desk, and strides across the room, dragging you with him.

He spits directly in Ransom’s face – a combination of Lloyd’s saliva and your slick that he’s not able to do anything but let drip down his face. Your mouth is agape, truly shocked. Ransom’s entire body radiates rage and embarrassment.

“That’s all you’ll be getting from her, Drysdale.”

Then Lloyd’s shoves you to your knees, putting you on display in profile to the other men. He undoes the zipper of his pants, releasing his cock, no underwear to fuss about.

“Open up,” he demands, and you comply, unwilling to provoke this demon who clearly doesn’t play by any rules.

He slips the angry red tip of his cock into your mouth. “Be good,” he warns. You give a small nod, closing your mouth around him. With one hand, he grips your head and begins to thrust in and out of your mouth. You and gag, and your eyes close as you try to focus very hard on breathing through your nose. He’s hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust, and the tears spill quickly down your face.

“Eyes on me,” he grunts, and you force them open and look up at him, knowing what he wants to see. He groans in approval. “You are a pretty little trinket, prettier when you cry.”

Then he abruptly pulls you off his dick and grips you by the chin and turns your head for Ransom and God. “Fucking look at her, swollen lips, gasping for breath, desperate.”

Just as quickly he slots his dick back in your mouth, this time gripping your head with both hands and he fucks your face with abandon. Fast. Hard. Your whimpers turn into sobs, and your hands come up to brace and grasp desperately at his thighs. “You can still take it,” Lloyd growls, undeterred, and you’re powerless to stop him. The tears are not just running but flooding down your cheeks. It’s too much now, and you can’t get enough air, and vision is going black. Finally he throws you off and away from him, and turns to aim his cock at Ransom, shooting his load over his face and shoulders, letting out a hiss that turns into a hum.

You’re hunched over and you wretch – blessedly only once – bracing your hands on the floor, and you gulp and heave, lungs fraught for the necessary oxygen.

Lloyd is talking again. The voice registers, but not the words.

And there are warm hands on you again. One rubbing small circles at the base of your spine, the other pushing your hair out of your face and coaxing you to look up at him.

With enough soothing, God has you breathing evenly again, and you’re still crying a little, but he helps you up onto the couch and sits next to you, very close, and he tucks a hand under your chin and lifts your face up, then he licks your left cheek, then the right, lapping up the tears. You hiccup, not sure how to react. Then he merely strokes your cheek, and the fingers trail down your neck, down your chest, down, down…

“Boring,” Lloyd announces.

You look up at him for a moment, but then God’s questing fingers reach the point he really wants to concentrate his might on, plunging into your wet cunt, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I’m eager to be done here,” Lloyd continues while God continues pumping his digits in and out of you. “We don’t need any more dumbasses showing up for this fool.”

“Agreed,” God says, casually as if he’s not beginning to pull you apart softly but surely. “You take him. I’ll keep her. There’s room for her in the trunk next to the cargo.”

“Fine, I wasn’t fussed about the goods anyway, I only took this job for the satisfaction of humiliating Drysdale, and that’s already exceeded my expectations. I’m sure Barnes and Rogers will give you enough for the recovered inventory even without him, and I’ll do you a solid and not mention the little side piece you’ll be keeping for yourself.”

God moves you off the couch, coaxing you to lean over the coffee table and kneels behind you. “Good.”

You moan as God slowly pushes his hard length inside your cunt.

There’s a thud next to you, and you turn to see a pile of Ransom hit the floor a few feet away.

“I assume you’ve got a way to move this man through down in that passage?” Lloyd asks, dragging the unconscious figure across the floor by his feet.

“Mhmm,” he responds, more intent on the movement of his hips against yours, slowly pistonning in and out of your tight heat.

“Good. This was fun enough, but let’s not do this again.”

God pulls your head up roughly to look at Lloyd just as he’s about to drop into the floor. “Say goodbye to Lloyd, Angel.”

You’re barely able to make the, “Bye,” tumble out of your lips, you’re so full of this man behind you, and his sudden roughness taking you by surprise.

Lloyd chuckles, then disappears.

God lets you drop back down, leaning on your elbows.

“I thought he’d never stop talking,” God murmurs.

It’s bitter, but a laugh actually falls from your lips, but you still can’t form words.

“There’s other things I’d rather do with you around than talk.”

He adjusts his angle from behind you. It allows him to plunge more of his cock into your slick channel, and you groan, but then after only a few thrusts, he pauses, balls deep inside you.

“You took what he gave you, but I think you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

You’re breathless. You can’t speak. You don’t want to speak?

He places his right hand, palm flat, at the base of your spine and presses it slowly up your back, his middle finger trailing up the ridge of your vertebrae, and you can feel the metal of his ring draw a line along your skin.

“You were very good.”

He rocks his hips against you, and you whimper.

“I said I would make you mine if you were good.”

Another rocking. He moves his hand from the nape of your neck around to grip it fully, and he pulls you back up against his chest, and you’re gasping for air for a moment, both hands coming up to clutch at his arm.

He lowers his voice and delivers his next words right into your ear. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

Your pussy clenches around him, and he presses a kiss against your throat, and you feel the smile of his lips against your skin.

His other hand moves down across your hip, to your vee, and his deft fingers stroke your throbbing clit. He doesn’t move his cock, but he does move those fingers expertly, drawing tight little circles that wind you up to the top until you’re flung off the edge and into pure pleasure.

Coming down from your first orgasm, you sink against him. As your breathing returns to normal, the hand on your neck remains like an anchor, but his other hand moves up to tilt your chin to the side and up to meet his lips. The kiss claims you, and you part your lips for him, just as you’ve parted your legs for him – willingly.

“That was one, but I want a trinity to secure your devotion here tonight. I’m going to fuck you dumb, dress you, and then you’re going to walk out of here like a sweet little angel and get in my car. Then I’ll let you choose. You can sit up front and keep my cock warm or you can crawl in the back of the trunk. Your choice.”

How are we?

I'm ruined.

Restore my health with your lovely reblogs, commentary, comments...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#god the bounty hunter #god the bounty hunter x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #god the bounty hunter fanfiction #aspen wrote something #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #dark smut #lloyd hansen smut #god the bounty hunter smut #female reader

[soap-ify]

cw — angst, hurt / no comfort, major character death. italic paragraphs are flashbacks!

moon, tell me if i could / send up my heart to you ?

It wasn’t that the love between Johnny and you ever died.

It was still there. Pure, unadulterated, always burning just like a fire. And Johnny, too, was like a fire — boisterous and powerful, smart and fiery.

He kept you warm, but he stung too.

Marrying him was the best decision of your life. But everyone gets selfish sometimes, and the selfish part of you started craving his presence more in your home, rightfully so. You knew that there would be instances like this, where he’d be gone for too long and with no contact, sometimes making it feel as if he was just a hallucination you had fallen in love with all along. Given the radio silence, of course.

Him coming back had started becoming less joyful. You no longer ran up to hug him, and he no longer smothered you up with kisses. You were exhausted, and he was too. A brief eye contact and a soft smile was enough to show that you were grateful he came back alive. A mutual understanding between you two.

You knew he never stopped loving you, and it somehow hurt you even more. Love wasn’t always going to fix a marriage, it seemed. No matter how much you cry and swatted at his chest, distressed whenever he’d come back with a new injury.

You were the one who watched him change after all. More distant, more tired, too focused and tense. He was scared just like you. Yet never short in giving you his love.

“M’gonna get us a wee kitty.” He said one random morning, hair all messy after just having woken up, a sleepy grin adorning his lips, arms lazily wrapped around your waist. “We’ll raise it together.”

You sometimes wished you had his optimism.

“I love ye, I do!” He raised his voice in agitation, blue eyes wide in desperation while you were on the verge of tears, anger simmering beneath you. “But I can’t just quit my work like tha’...”

“I miss you, Johnny… I-I am tired of being scared all the time when you’re gone!” You choked back on a sob, shifting on your feet, careful to not step on the shattered pieces of the vase you had bumped against earlier.

“I know…” His voice cracked too, and something in your heart broke, knowing that he wasn’t going to back down from this mission. “I’ll come back, I promise. I promise m’never gonna leave ye alone like this.” He tentatively stepped forward before wrapping his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest.

Johnny never stopped loving you, and sometimes a weird part of you wished he did, because it wouldn’t hurt this much when he’d break his promises.

It wouldn’t hurt this much when the knock on your door turned out to be Johnny’s Captain and not him. It probably would have stung less if you both had stopped loving each other.

“John was the best of us. He’d’ve fought the world bare handed.”

Price’s words were forever ingrained into your brain, bitterly so, and it made you want to jump on that Captain and wrap your hands around his neck tight. You couldn’t even protect my Johnny.

You didn’t touch Johnny’s dog tags for a good two weeks, not even looking at it, simply pretending that he was still on his mission

“I won’t let you step into this house when you get back.” You said in a broken, frustrated voice while he stepped out of the house with that damn duffel bag, not giving you a single response.

You don’t recall what the argument was. Just a silly thing that got you both frustrated. All you remember was that those were your last words to him, and it hurt. You never meant it, and you knew he didn’t mean all the stuff he said to you too. That’s just how marriages were, right?

But if you knew that was going to be the last time you’d see him, you’d cry and hold him tight, ramble about every single thing you loved and hated about him, tell him about everything.

You wished you were more selfish, somehow able to convince him to not leave the house. Just for once.

Your hands mindlessly reached out for the dog tags after what felt like an eternity, wincing at the cold material. The warmth was no longer there, replaced with this icy air that was rotting you slowly.

Your fingers slowly wrapped around the dog tags, bringing it towards your face, your lips gently pressing a kiss against his name while beads of tears begin rolling down your cheeks for the nth time since the last two weeks, a broken hic leaving your mouth as your breaths gently fanned the steel in attempt to warm it up, your wedding ring gently grazing against the chain.

Your legs finally led you out of your bed, taking you towards his office that was just a few steps away from the bedroom. You never really stepped in there — especially not since he died, and you didn’t want to, knowing that his scent had probably vanished away.

Your trembling hand gently turned the knob down, opening the door with a click while your other hand tightly clutched onto his dog tags, too terrified to let him go.

His office was neat, just a few papers tucked out of a slightly open drawer. The place was sickeningly cold, making you feel nauseous while your eyes stung with the incoming tears, your throat burning up.

Your eyes landed on a canvas at the edge of the room, right beside the window, a stool placed in front of it while a white cloth was neatly draped over the canvas, some paint smudges adorning the visible wood of the canvas’s stand. He never told you he was working on something.

Your body worked faster than your brain and before you knew it, you were in front of the canvas, hand hastily reaching out to remove the piece of cloth and—

You.

It was you on the canvas, a big goofy smile adorning your lips while you held someone’s hand, probably his. You looked so happy, warm colours adorning the painting, only half done. It was unfinished.

Your legs gave out and you fell onto your knees, your hands covering your mouth in shock, the dog tags slipping from your fingers and hitting the ground loudly. Tears blurred your vision and a loud, distressed wail finally left your lips while you crumbled, hands desperately clutching onto your hair, chest heaving.

He was drawing you. He was drawing you before going on that mission. He was always drawing you, every inch of your face forever memorised in his brain, never letting you go. He couldn’t even finish the painting, he hadn’t even started coloring his hand — the only visible part of him in the painting.

A distant meow halted your sobs as you looked around, the cute little ginger kitten he had gotten you two walking over to you, another soft meow leaving it.

“It’s just you and me now…” You sniffled and gently pulled the kitten on your lap, fingers running through its fur in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, your eyes moving back onto the painting, every fiber of your body feeling as if it was punched and squeezed tightly.

“When I die, m’gonna send ye little angels from above.” His drunk words caused you to giggle softly, nuzzling into him while his hands held you by your waist, both of you lazily swaying in the living room to some sappy old song.

“Don’t say that, Johnny.” You huffed playfully, though still meaning your words.

He chuckled and pressed an affectionate kiss on your nose, smiling cheekily. “Ye are bloody right. We’re gonna die old and happy together, yeah?”

Johnny really never stopped loving you. Though just like a fire, he too, vanished into thin air and left behind this undying cold.

#this was torturing my brain for like 2 hours i had to write it #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #cod angst #call of duty #rurufic

[eilaafterhours]

Take a Picture [Grim | Casper]

Content: AFAB Reader, Lingerie, Men in Lingerie, Banter, Nude Photos, Dom/Sub Undertones, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Smut, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember:I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You and Casper had a very active sexual life. Once he was here, and once you had your hands on him, well—Simply put, the two of you got your fill of each other, and yet it was never enough. 

This, however, was new to the two of you, and you're very interesting on learning just how this thought got into Casper's head.

You ran your fingers over the mesh fabric, then paused as they caught onto some loose ribbon. A smile slowly crept across your face. 

"Prefect..." A wonderful plan had devised itself, and you were absolutely ready to enact it. 

All you had to do was hold out and wait your turn.

Which proved to be harder than you imagined. 

After you had put the outfit on and did a little bit of dolling up, you exited the bathroom. Of course, you knew that he'd also be dressed up—that was the whole point of this. 

The outfit was simple—so very simple. It was a black halter dress with an open back and very high slit on both sides, the thin straps of a black thong peaked through the slits, and you added a black leather garter belt for one of his thighs. 

But gods, you always seemed to forget just how beautiful Casper really was. 

The black contrasted his pale skin, making his skin glow (and glitter? Did he use your shimmer mist?). Especially at his thighs and curves of his hips, both the thong and garter belt, hugging the flesh nicely.

You bite your lip. How could you last with this in front of you? You wanted to take him right now. Ruin him just like you know he wants, and then take your pictures. Actually, maybe you could—

"Sunshine?" He called, snapping you out of your deprived thoughts. "Are you already thinking of throwing in the towel?" One of his fingers found the waistband of the thong, pulling on it, then letting it snap sinfully against his skin. "I know you're trying really hard."

You narrowed your eyes at that.

Big talk meant big action in this household. And now the two of you had reached the climax: seeing just who would break first. 

And you'd be damned if it were you.

You smiled, making your way to him. "I'm fine, but—" Your hand ran through his hair, exposing his red ears. "You'll never be able to hide from me."

And then you were gone, pulled away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'll even let you go first—put me how you want me, Casper." 

He took a deep breath as he picked up the camera. 

"On your knees, lean back on your hands, stick your chest out." His order was succinct, and his tone left no room for any more banter. You did what you were told, adjusting yourself as he commanded. 

Click! "Ass up." 

Click!

Then he hesitated, his eyes flicking away from you. "...Lean up against the headboard, spread your legs and..."

You knew where he was going, but you wanted to hear him say it. So you waited, playing with a stray loose thread. 

"And spread your cunt."

A spread through your body. You were expecting pussy—not cunt. And the way his voice deepened had your cunt clenching.

You adjusted yourself a bit, finding a more comfortable position. Then your fingers glided down to your pussy and—

"You act unbothered, and yet your pussy drools for my cock."

You squeezed your eyes shut, legs slamming shut. 

You heard him chuckle. "That won't do." He moved closer, leaning down next to your ear. "Open or I'll get something to keep them open."

His warm breath sent a shiver down your spine that had you close off more, but when his hand tapped your thigh, you did as you were told, finally spreading yourself like he wanted. 

"Eyes on me." Your watery gaze met his unwavering one.  

Click!

You breathed a sigh of relief, removing your hand and letting your legs fall shut. 

That was...a lot more than you were expecting. 

Being the good partner he was, Casper was at your side. "You did so good for me."

"I know." You nuzzled into him. "I just forgot how intense you can get..."

He pressed a kiss against your cheek. "Interesting that you say forgot instead of admitting that you enjoyed it."

"I mean, I did, but…" There was not "but". You liked it, and he knew it, and know that he knew for certain. 

You'd be in a lot more trouble down the line. Oh well, that'll be then and this is now. 

And now, it was your turn. 

You started off easy. Your first picture of him matched your own first picture.

Click!

For the second, you had him move to the end of the bed, and pull the skirt of the dress to the side. Which exposed his very prominent erection and small wet spot.

You smirked. "You look ready to bust—you're already leaking! Do you think you'll be able to hold off until you get inside me?" 

He huffed. "...of course." So the answer was maybe. 

Well, it was no, but he didn't need to know that. 

"I mean, I did, but..." There was not "but". You liked it, and he knew it, and know that he knew for certain. 

You'd be in a lot more trouble down the line. Oh well, that'll be then and this is now. 

And now, it was your turn. 

You started off easy. Your first picture of him matched your own first picture. 

Click!

"Pull the thong to the side."

He raised a brow. "That's it?"

You nodded. 

"I don't trust you." But did it regardless, hissing as the fabric brushed over the head of his cock. 

Click!

He blinked, obviously caught off guard by the sudden flash. 

"I wasn't ready!" He frowned. 

You smiled at him, moving closer. "Yes, but your face was so pretty. I couldn't help it." You dropped in front of him, "How about one extra picture?" You held out the camera to him.

"...you are insatiable." And yet he still took the device from your hand.

"You're one to talk." You flattened your tongue and licking from the base to the head. "Make sure to get a good shot. You've only got one." 

You were going to play with him, maybe edge him a bit, but he was reached his release quicker than either of you expected.

You at least had some sort of warning, though. 

"Wait fuck—!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as hot ropes of cum splattered across your face. You took a moment to catch your breath, ready to stand up and clean your face, but—

"Open your mouth. Wide." You weren't expecting him to speak, just take the picture and be done with it. But then something hot and heavy was placed on your tongue, and you knew why.

Click!

You gave him one last good suck before pulling off him with a pop. 

"Seven Hells...you will be the death of me."

"My head game's so strong it'll kill you? Damn." You tapped his thigh. "Now, help me to the bathroom, please."

And that was supposed to be the end of it, but of course it wasn't because it was never enough. Somehow, after helping you clean your face, he placed you on the counter, shoving the camera (of course he brought it in here) into your hands bullying himself between your legs, and returned the favor tenfold. 

He made you squirt. Your juices sprayed him, his clothes, the counter and ran down the cabinets. And then he lifted his head up, giving you a full view of his soaked face. 

Click!

This one was your favorite.

"Fuck me..." You swallowed harshly, placing your hands on your shaking thighs. 

"Should I be worried? Was I that good?" He said it casually, cleaning his face, as if he didn't give some of his best head on record. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Fuck you."

"Actually," Casper pulled off the counter, easily sliding you on his waiting cock. "I'd rather fuck you."

You whined, head hiding in his neck. "S-sensitive..." But that didn't stop you from rolling your hips. "You owe me a picture."

"Of course, of course." You knew that tone, he was plotting. 

Oh well, it wasn't like you also weren't doing the same thing. If he wanted more pictures, he could have him.

But you'd also get what was yours.

100% if anything else needs to be tagged, let me know because I've just been released from the haze of this work.

Anyway, I saw these

and they made me lose my fucking mind and I had to stop writing another piece to write this one.

AND THEN I GOT POSSESSED BECAUSE UMMMMMM WHAT IS THIS

DON'T ASK ME, I DON'T KNOW.

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

#eila ficlets #rated [e]lia for explicit: a date with death #a date with death smut #a date with death grim x reader smut #a date with death casper x reader smut #grim x reader smut #casper x reader smut #a death with death vn

[sunflower-emoji]

Lending a Hand

Summary: Shoto is thoughtful and solution-oriented when it comes to your pleasure.

Tags: Shoto x f!reader, aged up characters, spanking/impact play, Daddy used as title, d/s dynamics

a/n: @bakubunny remember when i mentioned a dessert?

After so much time together, you were starting to pick up on when Shoto was up to something, but you still could never guess what he had in store for you.

That wouldn't be changing today as you knelt naked on the soft rug in the bedroom, holding your wrists behind your back as Shoto ran his hands down your shoulders and arms before reaching around to grasp your breasts.

"Gorgeous. My perfect girl." He continued with gentle touches and praise to walk you down into the familiar, fuzzy headspace.

Once he's satisfied with the state you're in, he crouches down in front of you, gazing steadily into your eyes as he cups your face in his hand. "I know you've been wanting things to be a little rougher lately," he begins and your eyebrows knit together. He had fucked you quite thoroughly earlier this week; what did he mean?

Seeing your confusion, he continues. "Last month after our impact scene, you said you were more than satisfied. And I believe you. But I just wanted to give you...well. More."

The discussion had been part of your regular check-in regarding punishment and spankings. Shoto had left some delicious bruises on you during your last scene, but you saw how difficult and draining it had been, and held off on asking for it again so soon. You feel your body grow warm with excitement as you start to understand his meaning.

"There's some other things we talked about that I wanted to try today, too, and it may get intense. Remember I love you and we can stop at any time."

He stands up and turns to the doorway, and it's only then you notice that the two of you aren't alone. Your eyes widen in surprise to see Katsuki Bakugo, dressed in form-fitting black and a predatory smile.

The other man is slow in approaching you, giving you plenty of time to voice concern or object. But you stay silent, and soon a gloved hand is grabbing a fistful of hair to force your gaze upwards.

"The bastard is really spoiling ya with this one, eh princess? You sure you can handle such a gift?"

You nod vigorously, adding a "yes sir" when you see Katsuki's eyes begin to narrow.

Before your brain can fully catch up, he's hauled you up by the elbow and is pushing you over the bed, exposing your ass in the process. You lift your head to see Shoto settling across from you against the headboard, stripped down to boxers and clearly hard.

A quick, sharp smack to your right cheek pulls a gasp from you; Katsuki massages into your flesh as he gives you your instructions.

"You're going to count until I tell you stop. Understood?" At your assent, he brings his hand down again. It's harder this time, and by the tenth stroke you're squirming and panting into the sheets. He gives you five more on each cheek and one final smack across both that makes you yelp.

In the pause that follows, Shoto leans down to take your hand in his, using the other one to brush the hair out of your face and pull you into a kiss that's all heat and tongue. You're leaning back to get a breath in when something hard and wooden lands across the tops of your thighs. You would have leaped right off the bed if not for the firm hand now holding you in place.

"That's for not counting the last hit." The sadistic smirk is evident in Katsuki's voice.

"Time for round two, princess," is all the warning you get before he brings the paddle down across your thighs and ass again and again. The rapid succession has your cunt drenched, arousal trickling down your legs as you moan and writhe underneath the assault. You feel Shoto squeeze your hands and press feather-light kisses against your fingertips, and the contrast leaves you dizzy.

The blonde stops again, pulling you up by the hair to meet mismatched eyes.

"Well go on then, tell him how much you're enjoying the present he got you."

"I-I love it Daddy....it's perfect, you're perfect, thank you-"

Katsuki cuts you off with a strong arm around your waist, pulling you up to be flush against him before slapping your breasts with his open palm, occasionally pausing to pinch and pull at your nipples.

Shoto can only stare in awe at how perfect you look, strung out and drooling in need. He had been worried that this would be too much, going too far, but he recognizes this state you're in. He's had the privilege of bringing you to this point before, where you're consumed and ravaged by waves of pleasure.

It takes him a moment to realize that you've been begging for him the entire time he's been staring.

"Tch, don't tell me you're gonna stop spoiling her now, Half and Half." The blonde pushes you roughly back onto the bed towards your lover. You don't have time to process the sting in your breasts before Shoto has you on your back, spreading your legs so he can rest between them. As one hand lines his cock up to your entrance, the other rubs little circles around your clit, the pressure just enough to have you bucking up into his hand.

"So wet for me," he hums before sliding his cock into your folds with one smooth thrust.

"Only-hhn, fuck! Only for you," you agree, the words falling off into moans as Shoto rocks his hips into yours, the light touches gone as he sets a pace just as rough as Katsuki's spanks.

"Are you going to cum for me too, angel? That's it, make a mess all over my cock like a good girl." You whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach wind tighter with every word. He leans down to lick a hot stripe up your neck before biting down, taking satisfaction in knowing it would be your only visible mark.

That final spike of pain and pleasure is all you need to tip over the edge, your whole body shuddering as you cum, hands digging into his back as you do. Shoto's not far behind, and you let out a contented sigh as he carefully pulls out.

He's quick to scoop you into his arms, pulling a sheet across both of you as you snuggle down into his chest. You come back up slowly to the feeling of his hand running through your hair and the sound of a tray being dropped on the bedside table.

You sit up at Katsuki's return, vaguely listening to the men's discussion about lotion and care instructions. As the other man begins to leave, a sudden thought hits you.

"Bakugo, wait." He turns, eyebrows furrowed in an expression unfamiliar to you.

"Did you...uhm. Did you want me to...y'know..." You trail off, suddenly shy.

Katsuki barks a laugh. "Like I'd ever want to be where that bastard's been. I only agreed to this in the first place 'cause there's no way Deku could've managed it." You don't have to look over to know Shoto is also rolling his eyes at the man's posturing.

"Anyway," he adds, much softer, "I've got my own spoiled brat at home I gotta tend to."

He walks out before either of you can respond, leaving you and Shoto to enjoy the afterglow.

#bnha smut #aged up characters #todoroki shoto #x reader #f!reader #tw daddy kink #featuring service top bakugo

[lingering-42-long]

The Last Goodbye

When they are Kia

Cod characters x f! reader

Inspired by MW3 and the tragic events that occurred this will be a three-part series if I do not get writers block lol.

So sorry for the not posting as much! It’s been a really crazy month and a lot of things had happened and caused me to have a bit of a depressive episode so thank you all for being super patient!

Warnings: mentions of death

John Price

You saw it on the news first before you got the visit. Your breath hitched when you saw the news of the air strike that had hit the base where your husband of 12 years was stationed at everything was decimated. And you couldn’t call or check to make sure that he was all right as he would not have his personal cell phone with him. It wasn’t until two days after the attack did two uniformed military officers showed up at your door holding prices old hat and SAS badge and dog tags. How they got them so quickly, you weren’t sure, but the news came like a sudden wave of cold water. “ we are so sorry for your loss.” One of the officers told you. The body would be arriving shortly within a week or so for proper burial you two had purchased side-by-side grave plots. And the will was already drawn up well before all of this had happened. John was a very precise man and always make sure to think 12 steps ahead. He knew his job was rough and he knew that at any moment he could drop dead. He made sure that his life insurance would be going to you, which was some relief sense the army didn’t pay much.

How to tell your daughter, that her father was not going to be coming back. What is the worst thing you could ever do to her young heart. She was only eight years old. She adored her father practically worship the ground. He walked on. She was always his little girl, and now the war stripped her of him. Stripped you of him..

When she came home from school, you had to sit her down. You held her hands, and with tears, you told the heartbreaking news. The young girl did not understand at first on why her father wasn’t coming back, and once again, you explained that he had died in action, and he would never be able to come home you’re a little girl started to cry, and when he tried to comfort her, she bolted from your arms and ran to her room, slamming the door, and she could hear her wails. You yourself cried yourself to sleep for the first few weeks all the way up until the funeral your friends and family members gathered around you doing everything that they could to comfort you and your daughter people were calling in every single day talking with you for hours on end, while other people stopped by to bring you food.

Every day it felt like a horrifying nightmare. The one that reoccurs every single time slightly more horrifying than the last. As you were going through your stuff and trying to decide what if his you wanted to keep and what of his you wanted to donate you noticed on your phone you had gotten an email from Kate Lasswell. She had sent a video to you actually several saying in the email that he wanted you to have this and gave her explicit instructions in case if he was to ever die.

Pressing the play button, you watched as his face appeared in the camera as he sat down and smiled at you. The way, his eyes twinkled and the crows feet around them creased. “ hello dove” he started at first and you had to pause the video because you were overwhelmed with the emotions. When you stabilized yourself again, you continued. “ I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you and I know that if you’re seeing this, it means that I have passed….. mission was going to be botched no matter what I just didn’t want to tell you the statistics at first…” he paused himself, as he seem to be collecting his words in his own voice was shaking “ I really wish I could come back home to you. I told you that this would be the last mission that I would do before retiring… I promise to take you out on that date that you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant.” he paused again, closing his eyes, and releasing out a large sigh.

“ I’m sorry I never got to take you…. I had so many plans to do with you and Alice… it doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get a chance to do that” once again, you had a pause the video so that you could take a minute to cry. The plans that you had with each other right now by the wayside. You unpause did it again, and continued on listening. “ I know right now you’re depressed.” he stated, folding folding his hands, and leaning on the desk in a slightly business fashion way. “ in the email that Kate sent you there is several groups that you can join that are for the spouses of the deceased militant partner. Please join one as well as make sure our daughter also goes to one for kids. She’s going to need that support… you both are.” he smiled again, but it was a Sad smile. “ I also made sure to have a college fund started for her. You don’t have to worry about it until she’s ready. There should be plenty of money for her to attend all the way up until graduate year as long as she goes to a decent university. Make sure it’s only used for that if she chooses not to go to university or to go to a less expensive one, you can use the money to buy her a car or whatever she needs to get her life started…. I’m sorry this had all come to this…. As you know I have set aside a life insurance, and the beneficiary goes to you. I also saved up a lot of my savings as well. Feel free to use it as necessary.” he knew that you were going to be smart with the money. “ He paused and looked at you “you are my beloved…. I’m so sorry my dove that you have to face this alone. Please take care of yourself. Find a husband that loves you like I did and a good father figure for our daughter.” This made him tear up. “I will wait for you in heaven and I will watch over you both. You mean so much love. No one or nothing can separate this love. The email that is sent to you also has several videos for Alice. For her birthdays, graduation, moving out to university, marriage and their child. I made sure to make a video for all of that… I also left many for you. Please don’t hesitate to just let me listen to you… I love you.”

The video ended and you sat in the chair, Thinking things though. He set life up for you and your daughter. He was still looking after both of you. You cried for a bit before getting up and knocking on your daughters door. Your little girl opened up with tears on her face. “Hey baby… daddy sent you something.” She sniffed as you picked her up and took her to your old husband’s office. After sitting down with her in his old chair, you turned on the next video. “Hey Angel!” John’s face lit up when the camera started you could see he had been crying. “Angel, im not coming home, it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s because I got called up to heaven. I want you to do something for me my sweet, I want you to watch over momma ok? She is going to need you and you are going to need her. He glanced up as if looking at you then looked back down at his daughter. “You are such a special little girl. I love you so much. Momma has the other videos for you to watch when you grow up. I’m so so sorry to leave you like this. I did not

I did not want to go. I know you were looking forward to see me and so was I… you are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He stated singing the song he sang when she was down or sad. “You make me happy, when sky’s are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away…. I love you my angel.” The video ended. Your daughter looked at you. “What now?” She asked. “Well… now we do what daddy said… we do our best to move on, but not to forget him. We will be OK.” You held her as you too watched the sunset fade beneath the horizon, a beautiful white dove landed on he window, cooed and looked at you before flying off into the golden rays of the pink sky.

Simon Riley

You were cleaning in the kitchen when you heard a knock at the door. Putting the sponge back in the soapy hot water. You wiped your hands and made your way to the door. Two military officers took at the door, Solum faces as they greeted you. “Hello can I help you?” You asked

“Mrs (y/n) Riley?” One of them asked.

“Yes that is me.” You looked at them worried.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Simon Riley was killed in action.” The officer said gravely as he handed you a box of his things.

You took the box with tears in your eyes. The men told you that his body was found and would be returning soon. You thanked them and closed the door as you held the box tightly in your arms and sunk to the floor sobbing. Your sweet Simon. He was gone, never to come home to you and your son. You knew it was a dangerous job, but it never really hit you till now. Your husband, the man that always let you take off his mask, the man that would cuddle with you at night and rub your back after a long day, the father of your 3 month old son who he would stay up late to let you sleep. He was gone, ripped apart from you. How were you going to tell your son about his father, the man who loved his son from the moment he was born. You cried on the cold floor till you fell asleep, still holding onto the box. You woke up to the sound of your son crying in his room. Getting up, you walked and a dead sonter to his room. Tomas your son named after your husbands brother, was crying in his cradle. Carfully you picked him up and held him close. He looked so much like his daddy, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin. “Shhhhh my love” you rocked your son with tears in your eyes. “Daddy isn’t coming back.” You stated as a hiccup got you. “He loved you so much…. He loved me.” You knew your son wouldn’t remember this but it was still so sad to hold your little boy and know he would never have a father and son bonding.

You sobbed as you held onto him. Tomas sensing his mothers destress, he quieted down and cooed. After a while you fed him and put him down to bed once more. You opened the box after sitting down with a hot cup of tea, ready to take on what you needed to. With a sniffle, you opened the lid to reveal his skull mask, the dog tags that he wore, his SAS badge, and a few other things. “Oh Simon” new murmured as you carefully picked up the mask and set the box down as he traced over the lines to his skeletal features on his balaclava. It smelled like him. That rich, earthy smell, that he always seems to have with a hint of gunpowder and bourbon. It was a lingering sent, but it was a good one at that. You held the mass close as you leaned back on the couch and close your eyes. You already missed him more than you did before maybe it was because you knew that you would never see him again, to have him be in the house and be present with you and your son. You would go on with your life fine you are a tough woman, one of the many reasons to why Simon married you, but it was your son that you were worried about. You wanted your son to have a father figure. A dad that he would learn to grow up and love. Simon never had that sort of dad, and had always wanted to be that way for his own children.

Now Simon was never going to live out his dream, and Thomas, your son, was never going to have that sort of special bond. I thought made you incredibly sad once more but no tears fell, your eyes were all dried from the previous crying. The weeks came and the funeral happened, your husband looked peaceful in his casket. You wanted some alone time with him first and held his stiff, cold hand. “ Thomas will miss you… I will miss you. You were my rock and shield. It’s going to be hard without you Si… I will always love you and miss you.” The funeral took place and it was a sad time. The team of 141, your family and friends helped with whatever you needed. Now, you were cleaning out things from your late husband. As you were cleaning out his bedside table drawer, you saw a note, folded up neatly. Curious, you unfolded the lined paper and read the words on the paper.

“My dear (y/n), Birdie if you are digging in my drawer then that means I have passed, the mission was botched… I’m sorry… I know Thomas is in good hands with you. Please don’t worry about money. My account will be given to you. As I am writing this, it’s late, you’re sleeping next to me. It’s the night before we leave… I am looking at you for the last time, taking in all your beautiful details. Your face is so soft in sleep, you look so angelic. I am going to miss you… I know you will miss me too… I’m sorry I haven’t said ‘I love you’ that much. I hope you know I cherished and deeply loved you. I still do. I know you are a strong woman, that is what drew me to you. I know you will move on. If you wish, find someone who can love you and our son just as much as I loved you. I will be waiting for you when you come. I will always be watching out for you. Please don’t let our son forget me. I want him to know how much I loved him and you. I love you my Birdie, my beautiful wife. ~Simon.”

You held onto the paper and cried. This was going to be ruff. You were going to be ok. A sense of comfort filled your mind and warmth flooded your body. “I love you my Simon” you smiled and the familiar sent of him wafted and you felt his warmth envelop you.

Gaz

when the news reached you, it hurt like 1000 tiny little daggers. You had just gotten married to Gaz, your Relationship was just beginning. The two of you had been high school sweethearts. Times had gotten tough for both of you and you broke off your relationship before time being until you rekindled it once again, realizing that he was the only person for you. You had only gotten married a few months prior and just had your honeymoon before he was shipped off. Four months he was gone. And he was supposed to come back in two, however, the letter that you received told a different story. He would never be coming home. His body was blown up so badly that they couldn’t find all the pieces to him. We would do everything that they could to get the majority of him back home so that there could be some proper burial. This broke your heart. He would never get to share the life with you that you too so desperately dreamed about, a small home, somewhere on the suburbs of London with a dog, and maybe a child somewhere down the line. That was your plan at least but now things have changed, and now your beloved was gone.

It had been a few weeks since the death, and the burial of what was left at him. You had moved back in with your parents for the time being. As you were cleaning up your room, doing the best to get over your grieving you noticed a note on your bed they have been delivered by your mother earlier. Carefully you walked up to the letter and looked at it. It was addressed to you by Gaz. A sense of panic swelled in your chest. Did he really survive? Or was this some cool trick that somebody was playing? Quickly opened the envelope, and you looked at the letter the date showing that it was a month ago that he had sent this; before his death. With shaky hands, you begin to read the chicken, scratch lettering, tracing over every word, and taking to heart as if it was the gospel.

“Hey Love!

Things are crazy right now! We’re going to be going into a city not too far from here. I’ll make sure to pick up some stuff for you. I know you’ve been wanting to decorate the house for a while and I’m so excited to see what sort of projects you’ve been working on? How’s the art piece coming? I remember you telling me that you wanted to start up painting again. We always had such a pretty drawings. I have no doubt that they’re not going to be beautiful. I hope you hang them on the wall for us to see. I miss you. A part of me wishes that you were here at least the part that isn’t the most violent. Unfortunately, we’re not in the best area we are being attacked left and right. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll be home soon! I promise I’ll fix the leaky faucet. I know it’s been driving you crazy. I I sent a letter to my folks, but could you tell them that I miss them as well? I want them to know how much I miss them, but I think I miss you the most. When I get back can we get a dog? Also, can we have like a full day of playing video games just with you and me? I know I sound like I’m rambling, but it’s just what’s on my mind recently. Late night cuddles with you while playing Mario kart. It just sounds so relaxing right now. I’m really tired. Well sweetheart, I better get to bed. I love you and I hope that you have an amazing day tomorrow and the next and the next after that.

Your Husband,

Gaz”

Hugging the letter, you cried your eyes out. Tears streaming down your face as you laid on the bed, holding onto the last remnant of what your husband left you. It sounded as if he was somewhere in a safer, better place. You hoped that he died quickly that he didn’t suffer and his last thoughts were good thoughts. A breeze drifted into the room from your open window and a warm bit of sunshine hit your cheek as the breeze drifted passed it felt like a stroke on your soft face. He was there sitting beside you, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel his presence. He was safe and he was watching over you.

Johnny McTavish

The news has gotten to you quickly. It was actually delivered by Price himself. You couldn’t believe it. Your Scottish highland your man was no longer going to come home to you. He was shot through the head. Taking a bullet to save a life. Your young son, John, named after his father, was going to be home from school soon the devastating news hurt you more than anything else out there. How are you going to tell your six-year-old son that he was not gonna have his daddy near anymore? Who was going to play football with him in the yard? Who is going to read bedtime stories? Who is going to play in the rain with him? Your son needed his father that boy looked up to his dad, like he was the sun, its self. The news hurt you hard calling his parents and his family was going to be hard as well if they had an already heard the news. He was close with everybody and his family and he had quite a large family.

The upcoming days to the Memorial as you wish to have been cremated, were hard and brutal. Everybody that you knew, and your friends and his family all gave their condolences to you and to each other he was loved and well liked by everyone your son took it hard he didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t coming home and cried and cried and cried it was like that for almost a whole week, he was doing so bad that you had to pull him out of school for the time being because he was unable to function properly. You did everything you could you hold him tight in your arms until he cried himself to sleep at night in which you also cried your own silent tears. You would go walk on the open, Highlands that overlooked the beautiful scenery where your husband, his father’s ashes, cast out upon the open landscape. A small memorial was placed there in memory. You would have picnics out there are frequently, simply listening to the birds call from high above and feel the warm sun cast It’s beautiful rays. They felt cold and dull to you, but you did your best to hold out for your son.

Cleaning out the closet with all of his stuff. What is your next task as you were taking some of his old stuff down you noticed a hard drive they had fallen out of one of his pockets with your name on it. Curious, you took the hard drive and you plugged it into your laptop. It open the file which had a video and it. You clicked play.

The video with your husband sitting on the couch in your living room, smiling at you “Hello my bonne Lass. if yer seeing this then ye know what happened and I don’t think I need ta say anymore abou tha’. I am so sorry that I cannot be with Yer. I love ye so much. I love our son John so much. Please remind hem’ every day how much I love him. Please play football with hem as much as ye can. Please read to hem every night fer me. I know it’s a lot ta ask with what’s going on but I think it might be good fer both of ya ta share tha’ quality time. I’m gonna miss ye both, but I’m always going te be with yer. I’m always going to be watching over mo little family. Don’t worry Lass, life insurance should cover a huge portion of everything. Hopefully it can help provide some security fer you and fer John. I also have tha’ university fund ye wanted me ta set up fer him. Let the money grow and add te it. If ye want by the time he turns 18 he can open that account. The files are actually in my cabinet on the right side of the desk. It has all the important paperwork and documentaries yer gonna need. I really wish I was there with ya Lass. I’m going to miss holding you at night and whispering I love yous.” His beautiful eyes stared right back at you with his stupid little mohawk and broad shoulders facing the camera. “ I know you got this, please don’t ferget about me, but I do want you moving on. Find a man that makes yer heart is happy to be with as it was with meh. I know it’s a lot ta ask for, and I’m not expecting ye ta get married right this instant… I want ta see ye happy I want to see you taken care of. I love ye, my princess.” he reached over to turn off the device that he was using, and the video ended abruptly. A new wave of tears hit your face as you laid your head on the desk and cried for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days. Your son came in the room and gently touched your shoulder. “It’s OK mama! Daddy’s going to be with us. He’s just going to be invisible.” he was quoting some thing that you had told him. When you had to break the news to John, you had told him that the angels up in heaven needed his daddy to help fight the battle up there because he was so good at his job. One day he would be able to meet his daddy up there as well. Now John had taken this to heart and there’s now quoting this in hopes to make you feel better. You carefully picked up your son and held him close to you. “ you know you’re the best against your father had ever giving me? When you were born, he had tears in his eyes and he was hugging you and kissing all over your face and just absolutely doting on you 24 seven. He told me how proud he was of you. He told me how proud he was of me. Those were good times.” Your son gently hold you tight in his own little arms. “ it’s OK mama will make it out together.” You could almost feel a kiss on your forehead as if…. As if your husband was leaning over to comfort you.

#cod x reader #cod x you #x reader #cod #depressing shit #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod john price #kyle gaz garrick #soap x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #gaz x reader #johnny x reader #simon riley #captain john price #kyle garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #ghost x you #cod gaz

[thedivinershiddenarchive]

the childhood best friend.

CHARACTERS ; yandere!imaginary friend!childe;tartaglia x fem!reader

SUMMARY ; It's been a while that you've last met your imaginary friend, more specifically, your childhood one. But his intentions with you are different. Now, he's changed. He's much more forceful and possesive and now he can't take in the sight of you being miserable. And he wants to fix that, but he made it much worse for you.

CONTENT ; dub-con, imaginary friends, possesiveness and jealousy, usage of "(little) dove/girlie/sweet girl/darling/sweetheart", childe can read/hear your thoughts, riding, fingering, biting and sucking, teasing, mentally-broken reader, very minor character death, a bit of gaslighting, very small implication of manipulation, praise kink, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampies, supernatural or is it all in your head?

masterlist | tag system | 17-, MASC-ALIGNED DNI!

“Ginger!” you cheered, running up to the ginger that was playing alone on the sandbox. The moment his eyes laid on you, he stood up quickly and sprinted towards you, hugging your figure and swinging you around with a laugh. “Dove, you’re here!”

“Of course I would be! Where else do I go when I play?” you pout and he chuckled, “Well, your other friends.”

“You mean the ones that I’ve left to travel somewhere else? Yeah right.” you puffed your cheeks, causing him to pinch them. “Hey!” you grinned and ran up to him and pinched him, causing the boy to snicker. “Can’t help it.”

“I just realized you’ve only been calling me ‘Ginger’ a lot.. I think it’s time for me to have a real name like a real person!” he lilted and you gripped your chin, thinking hard on what name you’ll give him. Hah, no wonder you haven’t given him a title, none stuck out to him and you couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t know at all…” you whine and he pouts.

“[Y/N], can you come with me? I need to buy some Ajax detergent so I can clean the house a bit.” your mother calls out from the bench, standing up and gathering her things laying on the seat and you feel your smile widened. “Ajax!” you pointed at him and you saw Ajax’s eyes glimmer.

“I’ll take it! It sounds so good!” you felt proud, even putting your hands on your hips, pleased with his given name despite getting it from a cleaning product. “[Y/N]!” your mom calls you again and you jump a bit and scurry over her, giving your hand to your friend and he takes it, walking with you towards the woman who was waiting for you with a confused face. “What is this girl into right now?”

.

.

.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here!” Ajax cooed as he held you close to him, you weren’t a big fan of horror movies, especially when you’re so young. Having nightmares aren’t a normal occurrence but you were thankful to have the ginger close to you so you could feel safe.

“You can open your eyes now,” you trusted his words and open them, you feel him hold your hand and lips placed on your knuckles. You leaned onto him more, his touch… Felt so real.

Your promise started here, out of the moment, you confessed that you wanted to be friends ‘til the end. That you want him to be near you and have each moment between the two of you be fun and amazing. You just didn’t know how this promise has improved your relationship with each other the older you got, you may or may not have regretted making that. You know how he likes his promises to be kept and takes them seriously.

.

.

.

You were about eight years old when you started making up imaginary friends, how lonely were you that you used this to cope? Now you have three more people in your jumbled mind to tolerate. Well, they aren’t that bad. They can’t hurt you in any type of way but it does stress you out more.

Now you’re a twenty year old working a dead-end job, you’ve never encountered them ever again. Even after the promise you’ve made with “Ajax” that you guys will still be connected, he hasn’t appeared, thankfully. Hell, it's been so long that you don't even know what he looks like now.

“Get these papers done by the end of your shift, [Y/N].” your co-worker demanded, dropping a stack of paperwork on your desk and leaving you with it. You let out a frustrated groan and almost slammed your fist down the table but you kept your cool.

This will take a while.

.

.

.

You tiredly flopped on your couch, you would’ve slept right there right now if it weren’t for something sinking on the cushion. You exasperatedly looked over your shoulder to see someone sitting on it. You immediately widened your eyes in horror, knowing that someone might have broken into your house and you quickly got up.

What you didn’t expect was a normal-looking teenage boy who looked like he just got out of bed, but the said boy looked familiar. Way too familiar. That tired grin and blue ocean eyes that showed no light whatsoever looking right at yours. “Did I disturb you, dove?”

Dove? Why did that feel like you’ve heard this before. Maybe you did but you’re just forgetful. “I’ll take that as a yes, you did have a hard time at work. Not like it’s a foreign sight to see you on your desk as you handle those pesky paperwork. Maybe that’s why you don’t have time for me anymore..” that whiney voice, how did he know all that? I mean, yeah it’s obvious that you were a minimum wage worker but literally anyone with your job can be tired of it. But what creeped you out is that out of all the employees that worked at your place, you were the one who he spied on the most.

“Who are you?” you questioned, raising your brow in suspicion. He only chuckled loudly, almost psychotically. “You still don’t remember me? Ah… When was the last time you’ve imagined me again…? Right, when your stupid crush rejected you at work and that was a year ago. Or maybe two..? Hah, even I forgot,” you sweat, his brows knitted together and his crooked smile widening, “it’s been that long, huh?”

“You didn’t tell me who you are, ginger..” you scowled, moving away, picking your phone up from your bag in case. “Ginger.” he mutters, cupping his cheek with his palm. That nickname was anything but unfamiliar.

“Is that really your name?”

“No way. Seriously, if you don’t know my name, should I just tell you?”

“Should’ve done that when we first met.”

“First met? I promise you this, [Y/N]. We’ve met a lot. And I don’t take my promises lightly.” it came out as a growl, you know better than to not piss him off but he did make you angry at first. Though that isn’t an excuse to be straight up dead right now.

“Call me Ajax, okay, little dove?” Ajax whispers when he crawls to you to get closer to your ear, his deep voice is much more clearer and it makes you shiver. And scared. Instead of hearing one voice, you hear multiple. You hear four in total, you feel unsafe, afraid.

You pushed him away but he caught your wrists in his and gave you a playful grin, “Does it ring a bell?” Indeed it does. Ajax, The one who comforted you through the harsh rejection of your co-worker, the one who played with you for so long when your friends couldn’t keep in contact with you because of you constantly moving out.

“You make a promise, you keep it. Or the ice breaks your tongue and you never lie again.” The man spoke those very specific lines from the nursery rhyme he got from TV. “And we promised to be together, be friends ‘til the end. I would’ve actually stayed if you hadn't kept me away for so long.”

He pushed you on the couch and you struggled against his hold. What is this? He was supposed to be an imaginary friend! Someone who can’t hurt you, someone who can’t hold you physically, so why can he touch you?

“Ouch, I’m hurt. You only think of me as an imaginary friend? Someone who can’t touch you like this?” he emphasizes with a knee on your clothed crotch, rubbing lightly. “I can hear your thoughts, girlie. Because I’m just a figment of your mind, so it’s interesting hearing what you have in that brain of yours.”

“Stop!” you push him, kick him, anything, but he wouldn’t budge. It looked like he wasn’t even bothered with the fight you’re trying to put in. “Why should I stop?”

You’re thinking hard, thinking of him just disappearing. To stop his rough grip on your body. Your breathing quickens when his teeth touch your neck, his tongue working on your skin and sucking on it.

You quickly went quiet when the voices in your head told you to, you didn’t know what had come to you. You didn’t know why you listened to it, you know that what you did was on command and that you no longer have control.

“Finally, you shut up. It was getting really frustrating to deal with you being noisy.” he had you on his lap, lightly grinding his tented crotch against your clothed pussy, moaning quietly as his cock slowly stimulated.

Ajax tickled your skirt before bunching it up and stroking your cunt through the fabric of your panties, you hate your body for reacting to it. You know you don’t want it, no. But your body reacts differently from what you’re thinking right now. “Aww, look how wet you got? Do you actually like this?”

“I thought you could read my thoughts, asshole. Of course I don’t.”

“Then why are you getting wet?” he murmurs, letting his fingers slip in your clothing and into your hole. “Let yourself go for me, babe.“ purring, he connects his lips into yours and drinks up your moans. You absolutely hate how good he makes you feel, even if you didn’t want this. Didn’t want to get fingered by your own imagination.

“Still thinking about that? Even if you’re lost in pleasure?”

“Shut up already..” you grunted as he curled inside of your pussy. He loves the way your nose scrunches as you try not to make too much noise to satisfy him or to let your neighbors hear. You’ll feel embarrassed when they check up on you and see you moaning at nothing.

“Like I said, let yourself go.” he emphasizes with a harsh thrust that has you gripping on his digits tight. Ajax pulls them out and forces them into your mouth to taste yourself, “Suck.” That command alone had you doing what he said. You were afraid of him going too rough on you. And he knows that.

He doesn’t mind how hard you cling onto his shoulder blades, how your teeth bit into the skin of his fingers. He only focused on how good he made you feel to even forget how much of an asshole he was.

Your breath hitches when his lengthy digits hit your throat before pulling them out of your mouth, seeing the string of saliva connected to his fingers. He takes them into his mouth and tastes your saliva mixed with your juices, letting out a satisfied moan from how good you taste.

“You think you’re ready for me, sweet thing?” he said with a hint of persistence in his tone. He must be much needier than you, most likely after the both of you became disconnected for so long.

“N-not yet.”

“Why not? You seem more than ready. Don’t tease me, now.” he pulls your collar towards him, making you fall with him. Ajax was now laying on the couch by his back while you were sitting up on his hard-on.

“Take my pants off. You better take it all once it’s inside.” he demands, a scowl appearing on his face as he sees your hesitant hands trying to unbutton his jeans. “Don’t be so slow. It’s frustrating me.”

You whimpered when his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to roll your crotch over his. He moaned quietly as he continued the procedure until you finally undo his pants. “Touch it already.”

“You’re quite demanding for someone that’s under me.”

“You wanna switch positions then? I don’t mind which way. As long as I can make you fucked out of your mind, I’ll be satisfied.”

You purse your lips, deciding to stay silent, even when he lowers his underwear and palms his length right in front of you, letting out groans of pleasure while he glances at you, begging you to touch him. The sight of his cock had you distracted, the sheer size with the veins popping out. “Are you gonna watch and look pathetic or are you gonna take it for me?”

Ajax forces himself out of his briefs and has you hovering over his cock. He lightly brushes the tip over your wet entrance, letting your juices stain his hard-on until it was dripping on his entire length. You muffled your moans through closed lips, not wanting to satisfy him further.

“You sound and taste so good, I wonder how you feel inside of me.” He grinds upwards, letting you sink into his dick with each roll of his hips. This went for a while ‘til he filled you to the brim with his member. He threw his head back while his nails marked your waist from how hard he was squeezing.

“Feels much more amazing, fuck…” his breath hitches as he sets a pace, plunging upwards that it even starts hitting your cervix from how deep he was. You hated him, even if you haven’t interacted with him for a year. Even if you get wet from his praises.

But it felt so good, he felt so fucking big that he hits inside every sweet spot. Ajax felt the same, how you clenched around him and how your breasts jiggled through the fabric of your loose shirt.

He admitted that he hated watching you from afar, looking miserable. But he hated it more when you cried over a man who didn’t deserve your affection. I mean, it was fine to reject someone but to embarrass them about it? That was what had his blood pumping in anger.

Nobody would know where his body is now nor will they know what happened to him. Now you’re wondering, how could someone get physical when they’re not real? There has to be a reason, right? A reason for how he’s touching you, holding you, and even making you feel so good.

“Mine, all mine. I'm all that you'll ever need...” he growls whilst pulling you towards him and smashing your lips on his, drinking up your gasp and whines. You know how obsessive he can be if you think back on it, jealous of how other kids try to play with you but you always get pulled back by an invisible force.

Ajax has you for himself now. But he has a deal with your other friends so he has to make every second worth it. Even if you can’t take it anymore.

You keep bouncing on his cock, taking in how good it feels with each hit. You grasp on his shoulders so tightly as he continues making sweet sounds into your mouth. “Sweet girl, you feel so good, god..” he snuggles into your pair of breasts, giving them open-mouthed kisses. His saliva dripped on the skin and bruises that he made.

Your bodies were intertwined with one another, sweat can be seen dripping on your foreheads as the both of you continued your rough sessions. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

You could only groan in response, nestling your face on his neck to find comfort in as he continues lunging inside of you. Ajax can’t let you go from how hard he’s holding your waist.

Even as you wail in pleasure and see stars, you still hide your face from him. The twitch of his hips as he empties himself inside of you and long soughs can be heard from near your ear.

You felt comfortable enough to pull out of his neck but the moment you laid your eyes on the supposed man under you, he was gone. You furrow your brows in confusion and look at the lower half of your body to still see that it hasn't changed.

What was that? I mean it was just a figment of your imagination but it felt so real to the point it can touch you… The bruises on your body were still there. You believe that this wasn’t something mental. You were too focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice the door knocking.

You perk up and quickly wore your panties and used your skirt to hide what was under it. You looked through the peephole to see… nothing? You opened the door to see what was actually outside but you only spotted a picture of you hugging nothing. You went stiff, you could only theorize you were hugging the same ginger-haired boy but he wasn’t there.

You convinced your parents to take a picture at some point and of course, they were weirded out when no one was by your side but they played it off as some innocent childhood play that you were in.

You flipped the picture to see another one attached to it, it was you on the couch trying to push, again, nothing. It’s all invisible. If he isn’t there at all, what was touching you? Why can you feel it when in reality nothing was there?

Now this was something unexplainable but scary. Was it really in your head? You’ll have to learn more somewhere else. But you still have work from nine-to-five. So maybe you can check in the library tomorrow after your shift. Hopefully, you won't meet him again there.

© notsodivininglover 2023. reposting, plagiarizing, translating or claiming my works are strictly forbiddened.

#notsodivininglover ; king’s pages #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut

[tearsofcalamity]

mr. cold feet p2

⊹ character(s). sampo koski ⊹ genre. n/sfw ⊹ tags. gn!afab!reader (no prns, but reader has female anatomy), dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!sampo, riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight edging, slight degrading, reader calls sampo puppy/slut/whore, sampos a whimperer we all know it, reader's kinda mean but sampo likes it

congrats... you found my little side blog .... ;3 head on over to meaningofaeons for p1, but this can be read standalone! also, trying a diff writing style for this blog ^w^

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI PLEASE!

a nice reservation at the goethe hotel, all on sampo's dime.

the nice thing though, really, was having such an insufferable man trapped beneath you, stuck between you and the bed.

it was only fitting that he be in such a position after all the trouble he'd caused you.

seeing him whimper wasn't all that bad either.

"p-please," sampo murmured, a vice grip on your wrist as you ran your hand over his tent, just barely giving him the slightest twinges of pleasure with each motion.

you'd had him like this for well over a half an hour, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes.

even with the minimal stimulation, he'd gotten quite close to cumming a few times, before you noticed and brutally ripped away all pleasure from him.

"w-when— hah— when I invited you back here, mm... it w-wasn't for this, sweetheart..." sampo tries to coax you, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. his attempt is interrupted as his brows pull together when you rub particularly slowly over his clothed tip, agonizing with every motion.

"cute names won't get you anywhere, koski. I'm sick of your schemes. you nearly got me in trouble with pela and the other guards last time."

"I sa—aah, ah!—said I'm sorry!" he cries between huffs, giving an experimental buck into your hand. the moment he does so, he freezes up, your darkened eyes sending a shiver up his spine.

"you did, huh? you said you're sorry..." you hum contemplatively, and the man eagerly cants his hips forward again, taking any opening he can.

he almost regrets his cheekiness when you plant both hands on the openings at his hips and push, shoving him further into the plush of the mattress. he whines at the loss of your hand on his hard on, but the pout he dons is immediately replaced by a wolflike grin when you practically tear at his pants to get them off.

"then I suppose you deserve some kind of reward for apologizing. don't you think?"

"y-yes, haah, please—mm, yes!" he whines like a dog in heat, twitching at every slight brush against his cock. you yank his boxers off next, and you don't know if you've ever seen sampo look so happy.

"please! please!" he chants over and over.

"so polite, sampo. such a good boy."

so, you give him what he wants.

precum practically oozes from his tip as he wretchedly thrusts into the air, giving you just the slide you needed to start jerking him off with vigor. he lets out a howl of pleasure, his hands grasping at the sheets, tearing at them as you moved your fingers in a ring up and down his shaft.

schlick, schlick, schlick

he's panting, whining, moaning, not even half sure what to do with himself as you lean down and let your tongue writhe into his slit.

sampo almost reaches to grasp at your hair, to try and get your mouth to move just a bit further down, but even through his hazy thoughts he knows there's a high chance of you ripping away all pleasure should he try such a thing.

as if sensing his desperation and granting him a sliver of mercy, you take his cockhead into your mouth, sucking hard and lashing your tongue across it over and over.

the bitter taste of his pre hits your tastebuds, but it's outweighed by the sweet yelp he lets out.

"more—more, please! y/n, please, please—" sampo's expression is completely fucked out when you glance up at him, tear tracks already prevalent on his cheeks as his tongue nearly lolls out of his mouth.

"g-gonna cum! please—hah! please! cumming! 'm cumming!"

right... he always was pretty easy. or maybe that's just the effect you have on him.

to his amazement, you only speed up your motions, his wanton cries heard and appreciated as his load spills past your lips. he's panting heavily, desperate to catch his breath, a dazed smile on his face as he stares down at you with adoration.

his smile quickly falls at your cruel smirk. then, your hand begins moving again.

"w-wait, wait—ah! ah! wait!" he begins pleading, eyes blown wide as you pick up your pace, thumb digging into his slit now in place of your tongue. he grits his teeth, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty white neck to you as he lets out a loud moan.

you lean up as you jack him off, pressing yourself against his chest as he writhes in place, biting his lip hard. he's sniffling already, the soft noises punctuated by the moans he's letting slip.

"y/n, p-please, hurts, please," sampo begs, pulling his best teary, pitiful gaze on you. it's interrupted by another particularly long stroke, his mouth falling open as he struggles against you. "please! can't—"

"oh, yes you can," you smile wickedly, wringing more cries out of him. he grips the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white, eyes rolling back into his head as you bite down on his neck, leaving a nice mark on his pretty flesh.

eventually, the conman's whines and begs for you to stop devolve into mindless ramblings, his pleads shifting to asking for more once again as you bring him closer and closer to the edge, one hand circling his head while the other covers every inch of his shaft.

less cum spurts out from his spent cock once that coil in his belly snaps for the second time, the release leaving him trembling beneath your form.

"'m sorry... 'm sorry, so sorry—" sampo whimpers, flinching as you wipe his tears away, lip pouty, eyes shining. "won't... hah... won't ever do it again, please..."

the poor fool, in too much of a daze, doesn't even notice you lining up your entrance with his, not until you take him all in in one fluid motion.

his head flies back into the pillow again, the pain more prominent alongside the pleasure this time around thanks to your prior ministrations. your walls squeeze around his dick, and sampo moans despite himself, hands finding purchase on your hips.

he begins haphazardly thrusting up into you, catching you by surprise. but it only brings another grin to your face as you watch his eyes roll back again.

"oh? poor, dumb puppy," you huff out, immediately slamming your hips against his, causing him to cry out. his expression has formed into a nice, fucked-dumb smile, a pretty flush on his cheeks as he pants and grasps at your flesh. "you got all the cum wrung out of you, yet you're still so desperate for the little bit of pleasure you can chase. so pathetic. and here I thought you 'didn't invite me here for this.'"

"haah... haah, yes, mm— please, please," sampo whines, graciously accepting your lips as you kiss him sloppily, moving against him with vigor.

"can't even respond properly? too fucked out, slut?"

the blue-haired man nods, going for another kiss. you only grab his chin, pushing his head into the pillow as you quicken your motions. his cock slides in and out of you with ease, grazing that spot in you that makes your toes curl.

"come on. tell me what you are. or are you too dumb to do that? huh, sampo?"

you grind yourself down onto sampo, and he grabs onto you tighter. you can tell by the tears welling up in his lovely green eyes that he's about to cum again.

wet noises fill the space between you two as your juices mix with his cum-soaked cock, an unbearable heat just waiting to be quenched as you speed up.

"ah— please! gonna—"

"that's not what I asked, whore."

your hips slow, and his eyes are on yours immediately, pleading, desperate, begging you with his gaze alone to not stop.

"no! n-no! 'm sorry! I'm—"

"say it."

"I'm..." sampo bites his lip, tossing his head back again when you grind down, chasing your own pleasure. he moans with abandon. "I'm your slut, I'm your slut, pl-please, please, make me cum, fuck! fuck! please, make me cum! lemme cum!"

his words begin to slur together, and you laugh in his face, your cruelty punctured by a groan from your lips as you feel your own peak getting closer.

"all right, all right. go on, sampo," you tease, licking a stripe up his neck and painting his flesh with marks.

"ah— ah! ah! c-cumming! g-gonna—"

poor sampo can't even finish his sentence before his grasp becomes bruising, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his thrusts go sloppy, his creamy seed filling you to the brim and spilling out past your cunt, overflowing.

you bite your lip, riding out your own high, gushing onto his cock as his warmth pumps inside of you.

you never would've expected he'd have that much left to give after before, but you always did get him going in a way you could never predict.

sampo is completely spent after that, his breathing desperate and haggard as he falls back onto the sheets. you spend a few moments catching your own breath, tousling his blue locks as he stares up at you with glistening eyes.

"so mean to me," he murmurs, burying his face into your neck. you only chuckle.

"as if you didn't lure me in here for all of this to begin with. you knew I wouldn't be merciful."

"lure you in?! hah!" sampo has the audacity to huff and sound offended. "the gall. I invited you here for a lovely, date-like evening, and yet—"

you cut him off when you slowly move to get off of him, his words trailing off as his eyes follow the cum dripping out of your cunt.

"sampo?"

"hey, y/n..." the blue-haired man regains his energy, moving to push your knees apart and slot himself right between your thighs, looking up at you from below. his grin is foxlike. "would ya be opposed to your good buddy sampo cleaning you up a little? y'know, to pay you back for before... the whole mr. cold feet thing, and all..."

your surprise turns into a little laugh, immediately reaching forward to grab and tug on his hair. sampo looks all-too pleased with the action, humming pleasurably as he already began nipping and kissing at your inner thighs, wet with your slick.

"well, who would I be to decline the first well-intentioned offer I've ever received from the sampo koski?"

sampo pouts a bit at that, but quickly huffs out a small moan as his cock grazes the bedsheets, his stamina returning with the prospect of eating you out good.

"I'll do my best to repay the favor~"

#sampo x reader #sampo koski #sub sampo #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #n/sfw #tw n/sfw

[d4niellez]

think of me once in a while. | t. fushiguro

❦ warnings: minors and blank blogs do not interact, not canon, dark content, character death (reader), reader has unnamed illness, cuddling with a dead body, implication of unprotected sex, barely any dialogue

❦ a/n: i don’t usually write angsty things for personal reasons but it’s due time to try so i’m putting this man in a situation. if anything isn’t tagged right pls let me know <3

Toji thinks of two things as sits and watches the color from your face drain and your chest begin to still.

What he could’ve possibly done to lose another woman he loved, and how to move on with it again.

He wanders into the abyss of his mind. At first, it feels like trudging through a thick fog that slows him down as if his own brain is warning him to go back. Thoughts hazy and slow, not in a concise stream. He pushes on and eventually the haze clears. He remembers his first wife and how his heart turned to ice after she died. Then he remembers how you warmed it again, but now you’re gone too.

Toji shakes his head and swallows until the lump in his throat dissipates. He tries to think of normal things. What he’ll have for dinner, what to watch on tv tonight, if laundry needs to be done. He quickly finds that you’re still invading his mind. You should be there to help him cook, You should make him watch one of those stupid romcoms he abhors, and you would always know when laundry was needed.

He looks down at your face again and notices how even the dull colors around you are beginning to look brighter in comparison. Toji still watches you intensely, as if by some miracle he’ll see your chest begin to rise and fall and the color return to your skin again. After a minute when you’re still frozen, he covers your face with the sheet on the bed and steps outside. Not before squeezing your cold hand one last time.

The walk to the front door feels like an eternity and he doesn’t know if his mind is moving slowly or if it’s physically him. The walls of the hallway feel like they’re getting tighter, closing in on his broad shoulders. He closes his eyes and walks faster until he reaches the door, hastily pulling it open and letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It sickens him to see the wilting red spider lilies creeping up from the garden. Almost like they were making a mockery of you by dying off too. He knows spider lily season ends when the summer does, but it still feels too personal in the moment. Toji has half a mind to walk to the garden and rip them out straight from the root, but he knows you’ll scold him, or you would have.

“Do you know why I keep those spider lilies out there?” He was never the kind to enjoy pillow talk, but he could listen to your voice for hours. Especially when your warm body clings to him and he can feel his cum running down the insides of your thighs.

“Those red things?”

“Yeah, those ones.” He nods and smiles down at you, lifting his arm up for you to shift your body from half way on top of him to all the way.

“Do you remember the day we met in June?”

How could he not? He remembered bumping into you on that excruciatingly hot day. He remembered the cream colored sundress you wore and how it seemed like your mouth ran a mile a minute talking about god knows what. Toji was honestly too busy taking in the features of your face and the curves of your body that were only illuminated by the blazing sun.

He doesn’t say any of that to you, though, he just nods again.

“I was looking for those spider lilies when we met. Even though they have a horrible connotation, I’ve always loved them.” You lay your head on his chest and he sees the corner of your lip turn up in a smile, he mirrors it.

“Anywho, after we went our separate ways, I started to see them. Not immediately, but randomly. In sidewalk corners, flower boxes, just unusual places. Do you know what that usually means?”

“Beats me.” You laugh and it’s music to his ears.

“It usually means we’ll never cross paths again, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to see you again. You were cold, but intriguing. The muscles helped too.” It’s his turn to laugh and he subconsciously flexes the peck your head rests on.

“So what’d you do?”

“I’m so very glad you asked. I started collecting them whenever I saw them, and soon enough I had a beautiful bunch of seven, a lucky number. Do you remember when we saw each other again?”

He nods and smiles, catching on. “July 7.”

“That’s right! So in some way I believe that those lilies wanted to bring us back together instead of keeping us apart. That’s why I collect and grow them annually in summer, as a reminder.” The enthusiasm in your voice begins to waiver and your body begins to relax into him more. He runs a hand up and down your spine and watches the goosebumps rise on your skin.

“What do you think about that, Toji?” There’s a million different complex words he could use to describe the bliss your sleepy form brings to him, even more to describe the story you just told, but he settles on simplicity instead.

“I think it’s beautiful, just like you.”

He feels you smile against his skin before you finally drift off.

Toji feels a warmth sensation begin to fall down his cheek. He’s crying. For the first time in a long time, he’s crying. His hands are shaking and he feels the awful ache crawl back into his throat before he finally lets himself succumb to his emotions. He rests his head in his hands and lets the tears slide down his face and form small droplets in the soil beneath him.

He doesn’t know how long he sits like that. He does know that his head is starting to feel to heavy for his hands and it makes him feel like a child again. He also knows that he’s starting to shiver from the breeze.

Toji picks his tear-stained face up to look at the sky. The sun is shining, but the warmth doesn’t reach him. Like he’s been punished to just look instead of touching. He begins to wonder if he even deserves to feel the warmth of anything. Maybe he’s the common denominator as to why he lost two women to death. Maybe he’s cursed and anyone who gets close pays the price.

He soon realizes that his eyes have moved from the sky and were staring at the red lilies again. Focusing on the wilting tendrils on the flower for so long that he can no longer see the shape and just see red. The same shade as the lipstick you used to wear.

Toji’s mind bounces around again. Traversing deeper into the void that is his inner thoughts and he soon notices that he’s not staring at the lilies anymore, but past them into the similar void of the garden. He could just up and leave. Abandon the house with you in it and start over again like he’d done before. It was the easy way out, and Toji was used to taking the easy way out.

It makes him wonder even more if he really is a bad guy. If everything was just a facade that even he had tricked himself into believing. He’d fallen back into old ways with his first wife, he’s bound to do it again with you. Bound to once again become the cold man he tried to change now that no one is here to hold him down to earth. Maybe he doesn’t have a curse, perhaps it was just him all along.

The chill in the air still feels like it’s deep in his bones. Penetrating his skin to keep him in a perpetually shivering state. He knew the summer was ending and the cold was starting to push its way in like an invasion, but he swears it was still warm yesterday. Even though his finger tips were beginning to ache and turn red, he still refused to put on more layers. Instead he opted to sit in the cold until his extremities began to feel all the way numb. A punishment to himself.

He does eventually push his body to head back inside, but he finds that the house is still just as cold without you. His feet pull him in the direction of the kitchen for some water and it’s there he notices that the dishes have piled up and there’s no cups for him to use. It was usually you that washed the dishes, but your illness slowly stripped that away from you. Toji suddenly felt the urge to vomit and cry again at the same time before he pulled himself out of the kitchen again and decided to do the dreaded task of calling in the death.

He’s been through these steps before. Holding the phone do his ear and he taps the knuckles of his free hand on the table below. Answering there mundane questions as quickly as possible before hanging up and feeling the sense of dread begin to creep up his spine again. For the first time in his life, he feels genuinely lost. Unsure of his next steps even though he has a million different ideas cycling in his mind like a carousel stuck to turn eternally. The thoughts continue to spin in his head as he walks back into your shared bedroom and stares at the sheet that your body lies under.

He circles the bed and slowly climbs into his side, careful to not disturb your body. Just like how he’d do when he came home late and you were sleeping. Though you’d always wake up no matter how meticulously he climbed in, now it pains him to see you not even stir.

Your back is facing him and he can still see the curve of your waist under the thin sheet. His hand reaches out the gently feel, fingers just ghosting the fabric, but he can still feel you. Even though your body is now freezing and beginning to stiffen. His face softens for the first time since you’ve officially passed, and he finally gets an idea of how to continue on without you.

He’ll take it slow, one day at a time. Living his life for you to not let his heart freeze over again. Though for now, he rests his head beside yours and finally closes his eyes. For even though the summer is over and your body’s cold, it still feels like home.

#divider by hitobaby #tw dark content #tw death #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

[imagining-in-the-margins]

☀️ CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge 🏖

The following are prompts including the theme of Summer! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☀️ Generic Prompts ☀️

Everyone looks better in a sundress.

Character doesn't know how to swim.

Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

The team has a (MASSIVE) family barbecue.

The BAU has a pool party at Rossi's vacation home.

The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap.

Characters A and B have a picnic (it goes well/wrong).

Character shows up in swimwear that no one expected.

Character A suffers heatstroke and B takes care of them.

Character A teases B about needing to practice CPR at the pool party.

Character A never loved B more than when they ran through the sprinklers.

The air conditioning broke and Characters try to find creative ways to cool off.

Characters A and B go berry picking together (and enjoy the fruits of their labor).

It's Character's first time camping and they weren't prepared for how cold it gets on summer nights.

Character A lectures B on the importance of sunscreen, yet freezes when they are asked to help apply it.

The BAU is a group of very serious FBI agents. They take their water gun/balloon fights very seriously.

The couple thought their vacation would be a chance to get away from the BAU, but the resort town they're staying in turns out to have an unsub in it.

Character helps their child with their first entrepreneurial venture... a lemonade stand. They weren't expecting half the damn FBI to show up.

Character A’s wide-brimmed hat flew right off their head and into a tree. B helps them get it down.

Anything else you can think of!

☀️ Dialogue Prompts ☀️

"It's like Hotch at the beach."

"Come on in, the water's fine."

"It's so hot but I am so touch starved."

"... How did you even get that tan line?"

“Yes, the sunburn is as bad as it looks.”

"Oh my god, do I hear the ice cream truck?"

"Next Summer, we're doing the Alaskan cruise."

"It's a million degrees outside, why are you in the hot tub?"

(sarcastic) “Feels just like the summer camps of my youth.”

"I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

"There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

“You look hot.” “Thank you!” “No, I mean literally… I think you’re overheating.”

(lying) "My phone doesn't work on the beach. Must be the signal or something..."

☀️ Character Specific Prompts ☀️

Spencer: He learned from the last time a beautiful person pulled him into a pool.

Spencer: He has a degree in engineering. How can he be defeated by a sandcastle?

Spencer: "I don't really like the beach... Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces.”

Luke: Reader loves to go to the dog beach to look at cute puppies. A dog named Roxy takes special interest in them.

Tara/Emily: “And what did you do with your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”

☀️ NSFW Prompts ☀️ 18+ ONLY ☀️

Character gets caught skinny dipping.

Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

Sex on the beach is so much worse than everyone said.

Character A can't deal with how much B loves popsicles/ice cream cones.

It's too hot to wear clothes at home, so Character walks around in their underwear.

Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

🏖 Happy Writing! 🏖

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #cm writing challenge #summer writing prompts #tara lewis #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #derek morgan #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner #luke alvez #matt simmons #matthew simmons

[underdark-dreams]

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him. 

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his. 

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble. 

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy. 

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach." 

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it. 

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken. 

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on. 

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck. 

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested. 

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds. 

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit. 

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face. 

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted. 

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again. 

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart. 

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body. 

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly. 

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

#i love them i love them i love them #pls someone tell me their ship name #karlach x dammon #dammon x karlach #kardammon #bg3 karlach #bg3 dammon #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #infernal metal #heartforge

[jerzwriter]

Book: Open Heart Characters: Tobias, Merida Rating: Teen Words: Approx. 1100 Summary: When Merida receives startling news, she hunts down the source to get answers. And he better hope he has the right ones. A/N: So, whenever we have our little "MOC" (Merida-Oliva-Casey) world stories, I always feel like Merida and Tobias have their own special friendship, their own little vibe. After the two tag-teamed trolling Ethan again in the last fic, I wanted to explore their dynamic a little more. An idea popped into my head, and I thought it would be fun. @lilyoffandoms (to whom the incredible Merida belongs), this one is for you.

Merida stepped out of Edenbrook onto Boston’s busy streets with fire in her eyes. Ethan hadn’t realized he was setting the stunning resident off on a mission when he innocently uttered five words.

“I ran into Tobias at Derry’s...”  The unflappable doctor was brought to silence with just one stare. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Derry’s? He’s there now?”

“Yes, he...”

But Merida had already turned on her heel, waving off any further attempts at communication.

“I’ll be back," she muttered as she stomped out of the office and whisked down the hall... heaven help any fool who considered getting in her way. Derry’s was a fifteen-minute walk when strolling at a comfortable pace. But there was nothing comfortable about the way Merida’s designer heels carried her took double steps today, marching single-mindedly toward her target.

She pushed the coffee shop's door open with a brusque thrust, her eyes searching the crowded room for her prey. They narrowed with wicked delight when he was spotted. Mindlessly scrolling through his phone in the back of the cafe, Tobias was blissfully unaware that the sharp cadence of stilettos on the hardwood floor was heading directly for him. But there was no mistaking his friend’s presence when her well-manicured hand smacked the back of his head.

“Ow!” He startled, turning to see who the assailant was, but Merida had already claimed a seat on the other side of the table. Arms crossed in defiance, her demeanor demanded answers before she uttered a word.

“Mer?” he perplexed. “What the hell?”

“What?” she scoffed. Didn’t think it was me? Where did your mind go? A bitter ex? Perhaps a one-night stand you walked out on while they slept?”

Tobias shook his aching head with a gentle snort. “Maybe at one time... but not now. So, care to tell me what’s up before I file assault charges?”

“You’re dating her? For real, you're dating her?”

Tobias brought the coffee mug to his smirking lips, taking an exaggerated sip before fixing his eyes on Merida’s.

“Good news travels fast, I see.”

“Tobias, what the fuck? How could you?”

“How could I what? Date Casey? I thought you’d be thrilled.”

“Thrilled?”

“Yeah. I mean, she’s your best friend… I’m your friend. Honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t suggest this sooner. It’s perfect! Now, you don't have to worry about not liking whoever we end up with. We can have movie nights, go on double dates…I’m not seeing the bad part here.”

“The bad part is you’re my friend. Which means you’ve confided in me. Which means I know your track record. And no judgment from me, you should unabashedly do you... or whoever the hell else you want to do... but... Casey? She's over the moon happy thinking this is real, and if you fuck her over... so help me, I’ll kill you.”

Tobias leaned closer, hoping to assuage his friend. “Look, Mer... Casey is...”

“Casey’s incredible!” She jumped in. “I know! I don’t blame you for wanting her. But what happens when you go your usual week and a half and then tire of her? I’m telling you now, I’ll be taking her side, not yours... and that will be the end of this beautiful friendship.”

Tobias sat back defensively. “And what makes you think I’ll tire of her in a week and a half?”

 “Please, Carrick,” Merida mocked. “I know you. What’s your record, two weeks? Three tops?”

“Actually, wiseass, I’ve gone a whole month in the past.”

“Wow! I stand corrected!” Dropping her shoulders, Merida let out a cleansing sigh, continuing with a softer approach. “Seriously, Tobias. The two of you mean so much to me... did you have to date her? I mean, we all work together?”

“Oh!” He barked. “OK, and you and Ramsey, don’t?”

“That’s different!”

“Different, how?”

“Can we circle back to your illustrious reputation when it comes to matters of the heart... and groin?”

“You know, I’m hurt, Mer,” he replied, and she couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “You know me better than most; I thought you knew I’m more than that.”

“I do,” she empathized. “But let’s be honest... you’re that, too. And look, Casey’s a big girl; I know she can take care of herself. If she wants a ride on the Tobias train, so be it. But you had to see her when she told me. She had "that look". She's so happy, and when this inevitably ends, I don’t want our whole friend group to be in tatters.”

Tobias was grinning from ear to ear. “She had “that look”, huh?”

“Can you focus!”

“I am. But who says it’s ending?” He broke off a piece of his bagel, casually popping it in his mouth with an impish smile. “I’m not as stupid as I look. Casey and I knew that if we got together and things didn’t go well, the damage could reverberate beyond us, and neither of us wanted that. That’s why we decided to keep our relationship on the down low until we were sure, and now that we are...”

“Wait just a second,” she cut in. “What?”

“We’ve been dating for months. Casey’s not some conquest, and you know I don’t play games... I love her, Mer... and for some crazy reason, she loves me back. This is the real thing.”

Tobias had to stop himself from laughing as an astonished Merida sunk back into her chair, hand reaching up to cover her gaping mouth.

“Come to think of it, neither of you have told me about any dates or hotties you spotted at the bar for at least...” she counted back in her head.

“For at least four months. Yeah, that’s when we started seeing each other. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed in you, pal. A diagnostician as good as you should have picked up on this.”

As she reached over the table to playfully smack her friend, she noted the sincerity in his eyes. Tobias Carrick could easily fool many, but never Merida. She could read him like a book.

“You’re really serious. You love Casey?”

“I’m freaking crazy about her."

Jumping from her seat, she rounded the table to give Tobias a hug. “Oh my God! You and Casey! My bestie and my dear friend! My bestie and my boyfriend's bestie... are in love!”

“Yeah, pretty wild, right? Does this make us, like, metamours or something?”

Merida shot him a sarcastic look. “I don’t know. Are you and Ethan fucking without my knowledge?”

“No, we're not,” Tobias laughed. “I guess you’re right. I mean, just to confirm, you’re not sleeping with Casey either, right?"

“Babe, please!” Merida snorted. “If Casey and I had gone that route, I assure you, you would never have been a consideration."

“Of that, I have no doubt. So, do you feel better now?”

“A little,” she grinned. “But you should buy me breakfast for the mental duress you’ve caused me, at the beginning of the day, no less!”

“ME! You should be picking up my tab so I don't file assault charges on you!"

“Tobias, if I had intended to assault you, you'd be sitting in the ER by now."

“So,” Tobias winked. “We good?”

“We’re better than good. This is so exciting! Does Ethan know yet?"

"No, I was going to tell him today."

"Great! Because we're going on a double date this weekend. I’ll make all the arrangements.”

“Do you seriously think he’s ready for that?”

“Oh, hell no. But the man will have to acclimate.” 

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #chocies fanfic #tobias carrick #tobias carrick & mc #choices stories you play #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #MOC world

[sevinisms]

THE GODFATHER — TSU’TEY HEADCANONS

#SYNOPSIS: tsu'tey being being a godfather/uncle to the sully kids

#WARNINGS: none

#CHARACTERS: tsu'tey, neteyam, lo'ak, kiri, tuk'tirey

#AUTHORS NOTE: this is my first post so be easy 💀

NETEYAM

without a doubt tsu’tey and neteyam had the most in common. they were both noble older brothers and strong hunter/warriors who took themselves way too seriously. a man of few words, tsu’tey wasn’t nearly as vocal as jake in regards to neteyam’s responsibilities. don’t be fooled though, his expectations were just as high. he considered his godson to be his successor as olo’eyktan one day and wanted to be sure that he could handle the pressure that comes with the title.

began calling neteyam "mighty warrior" when he got his first knife at 6 years old, teasing at first, but growing to mean it over the years. neteyam was without a doubt his favorite sully to hunt with, and he took pride in knowing that he helped perfect his shooting form (not that it needed much correcting, the boy was valid).

he gives the most insane dating advice like it’s normal.

“if you like this person, simply kill a sturmbeest and give it to them as an offering so they know that you're a good hunter. the bigger the better, then they’ll be more likely to mate with you.” “mate? i’m only 15–”

or

"someone made a pass at them yet you sit here whining to me? you must challenge them to a duel! i’m sure you could kill them easily-" "godfather, no-"

LO’AK

this boy is his father’s son through and through. since the day lo’ak uttered his first word, he and tsu’tey had been butting heads. i’m talking full blown arguments between a grown man and a child. tsu’tey didn’t care – he never ran from a fight, and he’d be damned if he started now.

he would always tell jake that he, "didn’t care for the little one” as a bit, but when lo'ak failed his iknimaya, you can bet that tsu’tey immediately began preparing him for the next one. he’d poke fun at him from the sidelines the same way he did when it was jake’s turn all those years ago. he’d point out every mistake lo’ak made, all to avoid saying that he was actually super proud to see him get an ikran this time around.

catches lo’ak and spider in places they shouldn’t be several times a week. he always wrangles them up and returns them to the village, swearing to rat them out to jake and neytiri. he’s usually bluffing though, save for the few times they’d actually had the potential to get hurt. sometimes he’d turn them in just to keep them on their toes which usually kept their antics at bay for a while. at the end of the day, they were just kids doing kid shit, and tsu’tey could only be so concerned about that.

KIRI

he wasn't rocking with her at all for for the first few years of her life. he still wasn't comfortable around "dreamwalkers", even after the war, so kiri’s miraculous conception from a dormant avatar did very little to ease his suspicions.

“look, i understand if you don’t want to be her godfather, but she’s not going anywhere. we’re all she’s got.” jake said.

though his suspicions began to fade over the years, they never left him entirely. having agreed to be her godfather as well, he tried to support her interests when could. they changed constantly, to whatever facet of nature she was obsessed with at the moment. this week it was mushrooms.

“i don’t know what kind they are so don’t ask.”tsu’tey would hand kiri a leather pouch full of random mushroom caps he’d collected during his last hunt.

she would always inspect the plants he brought and he’d take note of which ones she kept and which ones she didn’t, so he’d know the right ones to get next time. he would still accidentally bring the poisonous ones home sometimes.

he was the personification of "he's a little confused but he got the right spirit"

TUK’TIREY

tsu’tey would die for all of his godchildren in a heartbeat, but he would kill for tuk. she was his little partner in crime, often tagging along while he did his patrol of the forest or made new weapons. people rarely showed interest in the chores of the chief, but she’d found them cool enough, and that meant a lot to him.

one time, tuk was sulking around camp for days, until tsu’tey asked what was wrong. she’d asked jake to teach her how to shoot a bow, and he told her no, that she was still too young.

“nonsense. i learned to shoot an arrow before I could walk. i will teach you.”

tsu’tey was careful that he didn’t scold or poke fun at her when she released her shot too early or complained that her arms were sore. he didn’t want to discourage her. still, he wasn’t the type to offer flowery words of encouragement. he would simply correct her form and re-direct her towards her target.

“do it again.” “but godfather-” “again. and don’t slouch your shoulders like that.”

he’d give any gemstones and shells he found to tuk to polish and make into beads or armbands. in the beginning, he could admit that they weren’t as perfect as he liked, often uneven in shape and size, but he sported them anyway. after scoring his biggest kill wearing her beads, it became tradition to make him a new strand before every hunt. he kept every strand they ever made.

#atwow #avatar headcanons #tsu’tey headcanon #tsu’tey avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #loak #loak headcanons #kiri #kiri headcanons #tuktirey #tuk avatar #masterlist

[mochie85]

To Have and To Hold - Chapter 4

THaTH Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki comes home to find Violet missing. A/N: Thank you to everyone who supported me in continuing this series. I'm sorry it took longer than expected. Thank you for being invested in these characters as I am. I wanna thank @lokisgoodgirl for being my BETA and @michelleleewise for all the wonderful ideas. You two are the absolute best! 🥰 Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: 1.8K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst.

Loki arrived hours later, barging into your shared room. His nerves unable to relax until he held you in his arms again.

“Darling.” He called out to you. He ran into the en suite to see if your nausea had gotten the best of you again but you weren’t there. “FRIDAY, where is Agent Moreau?”

“She is not in the compound, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“What do you mean she’s not in the compound? Where is she? Did she leave?” Loki started to shake. His nightmare from hours ago crept toward the back of his mind. Clawing at him.

“Her last known location was in your bedroom, sir.” The AI answered.

“She’s not here FRIDAY. Can you please pull the security camera footage from outside the hall? Queue her last appearance please?” FRIDAY obeyed and relayed the image on the television screen hung above the fireplace.

He watched you walking back and forth between your old room and his room. You had items in your hands, clothes, and some small keepsakes. The last image of you was closing the door to your shared room and that was it.

Loki tried your cell phone. He heard it ring on the bedside table. He went to the nightstand, noticing a folded piece of paper with his name on it.

What in the nine realms?! “Since when have I ever given her the impression that she was never enough?” The letter made him seethe. But more pressingly, it made him worried. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson?”

“Where’s Violet?”

“Current location for Agent Moreau is unknown.”

“Where’s Dr. Banner?” Loki growled in agitation.

“In his laboratory, sir,” FRIDAY answered. He swiftly walked through the halls and down to the elevators, trying to make his way to see Bruce. “How did she leave the building?”

“Unknown,” FRIDAY answered, keeping in time with the prince. Her voice followed him through the speakers like a sentient being. He pushed the call for the elevator. His anger causing a minor crack in the button. He decided that it was taking too long and opted to go down the stairwell.

Taking two steps at a time, Loki made quick work of descending the stairs. “Did she tell anyone she was leaving?” He asked FRIDAY once he got back inside the building hallway.

“Unknown.”

“Is she hurt? Was she taken? Why hasn’t anyone filed a missing person’s report for her?” The doors of multiple labs and offices whizzed past him on his way to Bruce’s laboratory.

“Unknown.”

“Is there anything that you do know?” he yelled up into the closest speaker.

“I know plenty of information, Mr. Laufeyson. I just have no knowledge of what you are inquiring about.”

Loki opened Bruce’s lab with an angry flourish.

“She’s gone!” Loki yelled. Bruce dropped the small blow torch he had in his hands at Loki’s entrance.

“Geez, Loki. Warn a man before you enter his lab. I could’ve been carrying something explosive!”

“Bruce. She-She’s gone. I have no idea where she is. FRIDAY is of NO HELP!” Loki yelled to the ceiling. “She could be hurt! She could’ve been taken. I had a horrible dream earlier and now I’ve come home to find the love of my life gone!”

“Whoa, whoa Loki. Settle down. Violet is gone?” Bruce asked, trying to calm him.

“Yes! I come home and all I found was this note on her nightstand next to her phone.” Loki threw the note down to the table and Bruce picked it up to read. “How do I even get in contact with her? What if she was taken and this is all a- a ploy? Some ruse to make me think she left me, so I won’t go looking for her?”

“Loki…”

“She could be hurt. She could be manipulated and used.”

“Loki…”

“Thanos could be torturing her right now.”

“Loki!” Bruce roared, looking a little green around his neck. Loki immediately stopped pacing and huffed. “Calm down, please.”

“I can’t, Bruce. I nearly lost her last time. And we both lost our child. I can’t lose her again. Not like this.”

Bruce sighed. Thinking about that night gave him heartache. You came home from a nearly fatal gunshot wound and all he remembers was your distraught face and the dark secret you had asked him and Strange to keep.

He wondered how long you were going to keep up the charade. You couldn’t hide your changing body forever. Everyone was bound to notice. The fact that the God of Lies hasn’t picked up on anything untoward was incredible on your part.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Loki. And I’m sorry about this,” Bruce says holding up the note and handing it back to him. “But what is this about Thanos and torturing her? Start from the beginning,” Bruce asked trying to change the subject.

Loki recounted everything that has happened since he hung up the phone with you. His readiness to talk. The horrifying dream he had. Then coming home to find your letter and watched you act suspiciously in the security footage.

“Nothing adds up, Bruce! One minute she’s in our room, the next she’s gone?! No footage of her leaving. No sign of any of the vehicles being taken. Her clothes are gone. Her weapons…”

Loki stood there running his hands through his hair and pulling it. He looked as crazed as the day he set foot on earth trying to conquer it for Thanos.

“Loki. I will help you find her,” Bruce volunteered.

“You will?”

“I can tell that you love her, greatly. And by the way she ended this note, I know that she loves you too. You guys just have a lot to work through. A LOT!” Bruce reasoned. “She has a tendency to run, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does. I just thought that I would be running right by her side, is all,” Loki sighed. “I mean…how could she think that Bruce? How could she think she was unworthy?”

“I…might know…something about that,” Thor chimed in.

“Blessed Yggdrasil!”  Loki shrieked. “How long have you been there?”

“I’ve been here since before you came in!” Thor said indignantly. “We’ve been testing out Mjolnir’s heat…”

“Wonderful, Thor! Now, back to my predicament. What exactly do you know?” Loki demanded.

Thor sighed, “When we were on our last mission together…”

“Where you let her get shot, yes…”

“Before she got shot, we were discussing the future of the baby. Our traditions. How the child would’ve been whisked away to start training as a royal heir and guardian of the nine realms.”

“You WHAT?!”

“We talked about how you would be king one day if you chose to do so, and she might become queen.”

“Why would say that? We haven’t even discussed anything of the sort!”

“She wanted to know!”

“So, you’re telling me…that you told the mother of my unborn child…that we would’ve taken her baby away from her. To be raised as a warrior…or…or however, father saw fit, without her concern?”

“I didn’t put it in those words, Loki. She wanted to understand why you were so upset. And I told her that you just wanted the best for her and that you didn’t want her to give up her lifestyle. So, as per our traditions, the child would’ve been taken and raised...OOHHH, I see where I made the mistake.”

“YOU IMBECILE!” Loki yelled as he grabbed the small torch from where Bruce had placed it. In his hands, the blaze had grown higher, as if it were a sword made of flame. Thor rounded the table and backed away hoping to put Bruce in between them.

“Bruce, step away. There will be no saving my brother from the hellfire I will unleash,” Loki threatened.

“Loki, calm down. Thor, please don-don’t put me in the middle of this,” Bruce said exasperated.

“I will help you, Loki! I promise. I will help you look for Violet.” Thor tried to placate him. Loki swung the makeshift weapon and Bruce dodged it early enough to not get singed, leaving Thor to face Loki alone.

“Why would you spout nonsense to her, when I hadn’t had the chance to talk to her about it myself? No wonder she ran off! You took her choice away from her! She either loses our child or loses her freedom. No wonder she ran. She got scared.”

“Well, I guess it really didn’t matter in the end…” Thor said carelessly, more to himself but said it out loud. Before he could retract his statement, Loki swung the flame sword toward him again.

Loki saw red. His ears began ringing and the pain was the only thing he felt at being robbed of a life with you and the pain of losing the child. He yelled out loud. A plume of green seidr erupted around him. The smoke expanded out and then came back in, centering on Thor. A minor shake was felt all around the compound.

When Loki had finished yelling, and the dust finally settled, Bruce made his way over toward Loki.

“Loki? Thor?” Bruce coughed, fanning the debris away from him. Loki emerged from the smolder, squeezing a frog in his hands. Loki pushed the frog toward Bruce’s chest.

“I’ll change him when I have calmed down. If he’s lucky.” Loki growled at the frog. With a flick of his wrist, Loki opened the lab doors and walked out, taking the flume of smoke with him.

⬅️ Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 ➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writes @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki au #avengers loki #loki smut #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson fanfic #loki odinson x you #loki odinson fanfiction #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x y/n #loki odinson #loki odinson x female reader #loki odinson smut #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series

[elvisabutler]

watch the smoke pour out the doors

summary: elvis presley, the real elvis presley, not whatever they like claiming is the man should be dead. at the very least he should be looking about two decades older than the man in front of you. and yet. elvis presley wishes the las vegas hilton- formerly the international- was a pile of rubble or ash. he enlists your help after a chance meeting. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 8012 warnings: major character death! choking. stalking behavior. the colonel being the worst. being trapped in one place. general depression. elvis is an asshole in this. fade to back sex ( p in v ). kind of yandere elvis? blood. vampire bites and general vampire shenanigans. mention of burn scars. fire in relation to buildings. excessive use of nicknames like lil bunny and spitfire. author’s note: heed that first warning y'all. this does not have a happy ending. i've had this brewing since september/october of last year and it's partially based on @venus-haze's vampire elvis headcanons seen here. so what really stuck with me in her comment about the fact that she took "I’ve been playing this mausoleum for 1,000 years" and ran with it. i took bits and bobs from her headcanons and ta da. also the fire i reference happening in 1981 did actually happen. i hope y'all like this even if this ending is a doozy. y'all know the drill real elvis or austin elvis can be imagined- if the moodboard didn't clue you in. also for musical vibes i have literally only ever really truly listened to meant to be yours from the heathers musical. also i did not add a tag list because this is- this is a fic and i was not about to make any of y'all tumble into it without wanting to.

Las Vegas is hot and is so sun filled that you hate it. You've always hated it but that might not have been the city's fault. Once upon a time you thought it would be your salvation but isn't that always the joke with everyone when it comes to the city. The salvation away from LA, because if you fail there Las Vegas will welcome you with open arms and remind you that what happens there stays there. It keeps you from going back to Memphis with your tail between your legs and being forced to tell your parents that you failed at your big dream. The dream that they supported you on but always figured you'd fail at. Your job pays the bills and you keep your clothes on, which considering the amount of bills you have, well that was a feat for you to achieve.

Working the front desk at the Las Vegas Hilton was challenging, mostly due to the customers with their requests that occasionally bordered on silly and nonsensical but you could handle it. It was nothing too horrible and there was certain pleasure in learning that you managed to pull off keeping some of the higher class- the celebrity clients happy. Of course, nights like this- busy nights with half your staff gone because of any number of problems- made you want to set fire to the building so that you didn't have to deal with this job. Your boss has you running around in what you swear is every direction until she physically stops you with her hands, gripping your shoulders and forcing you to stay put for just a minute.

"Elvis wants a delivery to his room." She says, her face twisting into one of sheer displeasure.

You raise your eyebrow and shake your head. "You mean the Elvis impersonator up in the penthouse. Why does everyone insist on calling him Elvis? We all know it's not him him- like-" The look she gives you is one you've realized means you need to shut up right in that exact moment because if you didn't you were liable to get yourself in a whole lot of trouble so you swallow the rest of your sentence and roll your eyes. "Got it, me and penthouse and his delivery of whatever to his room. Got it."

Your boss mouths a quick thank you before pointing to the kitchen area. It doesn't take you very long to reach there despite your heels and aching feet but it does take the kitchen staff a minute to realize you're standing there all gussied up ready to take whatever it is Mr. Presley wants. What he wants is apparently a feast befitting of a king- heh- and more packs of cigars than you thought one human being capable of smoking in any reasonable time frame but you remember those pictures of him back in the day. The pictures you'd see in your parents' house, in your grandparents' house of him smoking something. Maybe it was just someone who was honestly committed to the bit even if it meant wrecking their lungs and their voice. Once you actually manage to get everything, it's a surprisingly quick walk to the elevator and to the penthouse. For once your heels don't wobble as they have an annoying tendency to do so when you get this much stuff needing to be carried and you easily make it to the door of the penthouse and knock only to realize that your series of knocks have made the door open all on its own.

The room itself is dark, the curtains drawn so not even the light of the strip finds its way into it. It feels not like a tomb, you reason, with the temperature reaching levels that feel almost as if you've entered one. The cold wraps around you and has you shivering in your light blouse and work pants as you look for a free space, a table really to set down the items he requested. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the lack of light but you manage to avoid hitting anything and set the tray onto what you're mostly positive is a table- be it an end table or an actual dining table. You straighten up after you set it down and something feels off to you, feels as if you're being watched. That can't be though, yes Elvis- or whoever it's supposed to be up here had requested the items but that didn't mean they were stalking you from the dark.

Except the feeling doesn't go away and you know so very well that you ought to move, that you should get out of the room and back downstairs where it's busy and you don't feel the faint sensation of worrying that you'll be murdered. You don't though, it's as if your feet are firmly planted in that spot, like you want to see just why you're feeling this particular way. After what feels like an eternity you feel the air around you shift, a small gust of warmth pass by your back and that is the cue for your body to finally turn around. What you see when you turn around shocks you to your very core and makes you think you've got to be hallucinating.

It's like you've seen a ghost when you realize who you're staring at in the darkness of the room. There's always been whispers that Elvis is actually still alive, that he's alive and the person who's been recording the music and performing shows was still him. After all, despite so much information about his relationship with his manager coming out there was no lawsuit coming from the family and that had to mean he was alive. Looking at the man in front of you, looking at the parts you can see of his face that aren't obscured by a half mask over his face- you think they might be right just not in the way everyone assumed. After all, if you take off the mask, the man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1972 or maybe 1974.

Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. You're familiar with all the facial features that make up one Elvis Presley and seeing them up close and personal as opposed to on stage? There's no mistaking who's in front of you. It's Elvis fucking Presley in the flesh, looking nowhere near the almost 60 he should be. His eyes though- the eyes you're looking at are just as stunning as the blue ones you've always heard about but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

"That's new. Most of ya jus' hide and run away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.

"Do I seem like most people, Elvis?" You ask, you accent thickening as your hand against your will finds its way to his mask-covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.

"Do that and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." His warning is accompanied by his eyes narrowing and his canines finding themselves on full display, showing you just how dangerous he could be. Yet, you find yourself raising your own eyebrows.

"Ya mean like you've done with a lot of my former coworkers?" It's suddenly making sense, how a lot of the times girls who went up here wouldn't come back and would suddenly have family emergencies. "Ya said it yourself, most of us jus' hide and run away. Do I look scared?"

The laugh that leaves his mouth sounds downright evil and sinister, like he truly is a devil waiting to ruin anyone who comes near him and you can't help the rush of arousal and fear that shudders through your system. His grip tightens on your wrist. "Oh, darlin'. Ya don't look it but that heart o' yours. Oh, she's betrayin' ya like nothin' else. Tellin' me you want to bolt like a lil scared bunny."

You hate how you swear you can feel your heart jump at those words, proving him right in the worst sort of way. You want to argue with him, want to tell him that his hearing must be going off and he's hearing someone else's heartbeat but you know better- you know from the glint you see in his eyes that there isn't a chance for that lie to fly. Instead you purse your lips and move to pull your wrist out of his grasp. "I haven't yet. And ya haven't tried to kill me yet."

His grip loosens but he takes the opportunity to pull you closer just enough so when he leans forward his lips are brushing your ear as his whisper is practically a short brush of air against it. "Yet." Finally, he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, his eyes darting to the tray you brought. "All in one piece. You are better than the rest of 'em."

If anyone else were to say that, if you had heard it from an Elvis that looked the age he was supposed to be and didn't look like Dracula you might have preened, enjoying the compliment for what it was. Hearing it from him? Hearing it from a man who you feel will murder you the second you turn your back? All that accomplishes is making you shiver in fear. When you look at his face you see a grin that tells you that's exactly what he wanted to see.

You realize in that moment that you need to leave, you don't know if Elvis is planning on trying to hurt you or if he's just toying with you. Either way it's- it sets you on edge enough that your feet that had seemingly forgotten how to move manage to remember how as you turn away from Elvis, not bothering to give him a response beyond what your body had already inadvertently done.

"There we go, there's that runnin' I'm used to." Elvis chuckles, allowing you to move further away from him slowly inching to the door. "Even if ya practically movin' slow as molasses. Scared but bein' smart 'bout it, ain't cha?"

An answer dances on the tip of your tongue, a joke or a quip about how you'd be a fool to turn your back on a predator or to bolt from a predator. Either way you'd be seen as his prey and arguably easy prey at that. The answer dies on your lips as you feel a rush of air by you and see Elvis opening and holding the door to his room open for you. His grin looks full of promise and is all teeth in a way that sets you on edge.

"Go on, darlin', I'll let ya go. Ain't like I can't find ya 'round here." His eyes rake over your form and you'd think you'd be disgusted as you normally are when someone looks at you like that. Instead you have to suppress the shiver of something that passes through you. "'Specially if ya do that."

You don't dignify his words with a response as you exit hearing some whisper of the word fun and a dark laugh. If the speed of your steps increase once the door shuts. Well, that was your own business between you and whatever God saw fit to abandon you just a bit ago.

As it turns out Elvis is a very persistent man- a fact not tempered and instead heightened by the years he's lived. True to his word, he did know exactly where to find you though actually meeting up with you seemed to be beyond his reach. No, instead you found yourself being bombarded with gifts. Gifts you'd think Elvis couldn't provide and yet there they were. You wondered just how he was getting these things to you but the thought didn't fill you with any sort of delight so you chose not to dwell. It all comes to a head when before your shift one night there was a new outfit on your doorstep. A simple red blouse with a black pinstripe skirt. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem and yet the true issue was the note.

Took a guess on your size, lil Bunny. You can tell me if I'm right tonight after my show.

It is your size and you have idea how he could tell that let alone how he knew these were your favorite colors and that you favored pinstripes for your dresswear. If you dwell on it for too long some sense of fear and flattered feelings settle deep within your stomach.

The only reason you wear the outfit is because every other work appropriate outfit you have is currently in the wash. A fact that is true purely due to your own laziness and is something you want to curse yourself for. You consider actually going to the show, entirely aware that you could but you're loath to give him the satisfaction. Instead you wait until around the time the show ends to make your way to his room utilizing your ability to have extra keys of rooms to make your way inside. He's not there yet so you sit in a chair and wait in the dark. Dramatic, yes, but you figure it seemed fitting given the circumstances. Perhaps he might even respect the flourish of it, the flourish of you waiting for his own dramatic person in the dark as if he couldn't rip your throat out in an instant.

You almost doze off waiting for him but when he finally arrives he opens his door with a sigh, completely ignoring you before he walks slowly over to you, silent as a church mouse. He opens his mouth to say something as his teeth glitter in the light of the strip coming from the window but you cut him off.

"Is this all supposed to charm me?" A simple question but one that has him chuckling lowly as you try and get up only to be stopped by his hand on your shoulder.

"It working?" His eyes zero in on your skirt before he shrugs. "Fits you like a damn glove. Knew I guessed right."

"You guessed-" You try and take his hand off your shoulder before realizing it only makes him push down just that little bit harder. "I didn't ask for clothes or jewelry or- for you to even still be trying to talk to me. What do you even want from me? My blood?"

"If I wanted to suck ya dry of all your blood, I'd've done it already darlin'. Nah, that'd be a damn waste of a spitfire like ya." Elvis murmurs as his eyes trace your form. "Think we'll have more fun with you alive and me alive as I'll ever be. 'Less ya gonna tell me you've gotta death wish."

You scoff at him, your lips curling up into a sneer. "I didn't even know ya were honestly still alive, what makes ya think ya were a part of any death wish I might have?"

"The fact that your heart insists on goin' a mile a minute 'round me. Or when you shivered like ya did. Might not have realized I was 'round but now that ya do-" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Think ya'd enjoy dyin' with me drainin' the life from ya."

You shouldn't think the idea is enjoyable but you can't help the way your legs reflexively clench together. "Mr. Pres-"

"Elvis. Lil bunny, lil spitfire of a woman. You were waitin' f'me in the dark. Could've rushed in 'n torn out that pretty lil throat of yours 'fore I realized it was you. And wouldn't that've been a cryin' shame. Waste of a woman like ya."

It's flattering the way he calls you a spitfire and the way he leans close to you whispering it to you like a long lost lover. You reason your reaction stems from not being intimate with anyone for a while but truly perhaps it just is Elvis's natural charm. A shake of your head is all you manage to do before clearing your throat to speak. "Elvis. That- That was the point not- Ya needed to be caught off guard. Startled. And-"

The laugh he lets out is low and mocking. "Oh darlin' you wanted to surprise a vampire. You- God, you're somethin' else. Maybe- Stay here tonight. Don't got plans, know that."

The unfortunate truth of the matter that he's correct. You don't have plans but spending the night and staying there with him has you shaking your head once again. That is the exact opposite of anything you want to do. "No. Find- They'll send up another girl if ya ask them to or have- I don't know, I'm not staying here tonight."

His hand that's been on your shoulder moves to your neck and traces the lines of it gently as he leans forward and lets a nail act almost as if he's going to prepare it to be pierced by his teeth. "Not even if I have somethin' to tell ya. Somethin' interestin'?"

Your face perks up for a moment at the thought of just what he might want to tell you before you frown. "Not even- I want to go home Mr-"

"Elvis. Not. Mr. Presley. Not to ya." The words are growls in your ear and involuntarily your mouth opens up and lets out a soft whimper and whine. At the noise his hand moves to stroke your clavicle. "Just for tonight. Won't- Don't plan on doing what your body seems to want me t'do. Just wanna talk."

You use the fact that his hand isn't directly pushing you down to slip out of the chair. His eyes widen in shock before he moves to pull you into his arms. He doesn't bother to move fast, more preoccupied with seeing your reaction. You take a step or two back and he drops his arms to his side before motioning to the door. "'Nother night then, Y/N. 'Nother night." A beat. "I won't stop."

Whatever you want to say just comes out as a hiss of anger almost like you're a cat before you slink out the door. Once you're in the elevator you sink to the floor and try to steady your breathing, you try to tamp down on your arousal and try and ignore the part of your brain craving to find out just what he wanted to talk to you about.

That craving doesn't leave you and if you didn't know any better you'd think it was supernatural the way it worms its way into your mind and settles in popping up at the worst possible times. It only takes a week before you find yourself waiting for him in the dark again, wearing a pinstripe pair of pants and the red blouse he had given you. You don't mean to fall asleep waiting for him this time but you do, only to wake up when you feel the presence of something staring at you. By this point his show had been over for an hour and he's in a robe that looks- soft. "Rise n' shine, lil bunny."

You scramble a bit, shocked and mortified that you fell asleep before you look at Elvis who is just sitting casually as can be in a chair next to yours. Your eyes drift over him before you bite your lip. "I'm only here to- I want to know what ya were going to tell me last week. And I want ya to stop- I want to not have a bunch of gifts every day."

His shoulders move in a shrugging motion before he shakes his head. "I got no problem tellin' ya about it, but 'less you're gonna help, ya still gonna get the gifts."

"Why do ya- I don't want- That's not how you charm someone into helping ya." You cycle through words faster than you mean to, more confused than anything else at what he's saying. "What do ya even need my help for?"

It's a valid question, you figure, after all he's a vampire and you are still very much a human but he hums, waving off the question before moving his chair to face you and to essentially pin you into being stuck in your own chair. "It's how I figure you'll be charmed." He pauses. "Lil outta practice wit' th'other one. As for what I need ya help for-" He trails off and pulls off the mask obscuring part of his face to reveal a burn scar that is noticeable enough to have you gasping. "Need ya to help me avoid doin' this again. Don't feel like burnin' up like that on the other side. Let alone anywhere else."

Several moments pass before you finally find the words to articulate your question that aren't just straight confused noises. "Are ya asking me to help ya set fire to something?" He cannot be asking you to do that. You have to be dead and this is just a very vivid post death hallucination.

For his part Elvis nods slowly, looking you dead in the eye with the most laconic face as he answers you. "I'm askin' ya t'help me set fire to this place."

"The hotel?" Your tone shifts up about 2 octaves and you swear your voice just whistles instead of actually speak. "Where I work? Where you perform?"

That same laconic look doesn't leave Elvis's face. "The one I tried to set fire to in '81 only to burn half my face? That very one, lil bunny."

You can't help but laugh though it's not something normal and sensible that comes out of your mouth. No, it's a high pitched mildly terrified giggle that leaves your mouth. He's- He is asking you to commit arson with him. To help him set fire to a place he's performed at since the 1970s. That you work at. He cannot be serious. "You're- You're joking. I- I have Elvis Presley who is apparently a vampire stalking me so that I can help him set fire to a hotel because you fucked up the first time?"

The giggle is still there before his hand darts out and wraps around your throat, tightening just slightly. "Keep laughin' lil one. Keep laughin' and I'll rip that throat clean out. Won't even be recognizable."

His hand steals your breath away from you as you try to take a breath only to have him tighten it more. He- He won't kill you, you don't think, this is just to scare you, to make you want to do what he's asking for but your vision is starting to blur just a bit and you can't help the way your eyes are starting to roll back in your head before suddenly you can breathe. You cough a little violently as air rushes back into your lungs before you glare at him, pushing the chair back in order to stand up. "You keep threatening to kill me, ya sure ya want my help? I don't- I'm leaving. This is a joke. You're a joke just like ya were-"

In a rush Elvis has you pulled tightly to his chest, his arms snaking around you and tightening like a python. "Stopped being a joke the second this happened to me don't- Heard enough of that from all those goddamn tabloids and from the reports of my death."

You're going to die, this is how you're going to die. Not by starvation or homelessness or by some madman murdering you on the streets. No, you're going to die because a man who was a has been before he became a vampire and is even more of one now despite three more albums under his belt and another Grammy for that eighties gospel album. Still you have to fight him, he's not- if he wants your help he won't kill you. You're- he's obsessed with you, isn't he? Wants your help that bad?

"Elvis, I think you're just a lonely scared little boy in a man's- excuse me- vampire's body." You snarl, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, as if you have any chance of winning against a vampire with superhuman strength. As if you'd have any chance winning against him even if he was human. Elvis Presley never had been a small man and you had never been the strongest of women.

"And if I am? Ya gonna be my salvation? Gonna save me from this hell on Earth? This eternal damnation forced on me by a Dutch lyin' bastard?" He leans closer to you, his breath ghosting over your face, over your lips as he takes breaths he doesn't need to and as he watches your eyes have a fire in them that warms him from the inside out. "Gonna make me feel better about it, darlin'? Ya really think ya good enough t'do that? That I like ya 'nough for that t'work?"

"Ya haven't killed me yet." You spit at him, just narrowly avoiding actually spitting on him. "I'm still alive and ya seem pretty damn obsessed with getting me of all the people in this town to help ya. So, yes, I think ya like me just enough."

At your words Elvis's grip on you loosens and he steps back like you burned him for a moment before he practically hisses at you. "'m only obsessed 'cause ya seem like the only person who could do it." A beat and something flashes in his blue and red tinged eyes. "And ya- yer from home." Memphis is what he means but he doesn't think to clarify. He takes a step forward and grabs at your chin even as you let out a snarl of your own. "Ya hate this place as much as I do. And think ya'd like seein' it burn down 'round ya. Don't lie. Can tell if ya do."

A quick dart of your eyes to the side is all the answer you can give for a moment as you try to compose yourself. "Doesn't mean I wanna help ya. Doesn't mean I'm gonna help ya."

For the briefest of moments, Elvis looks human and looks like a little boy when he looks at you. He's- You recognize the look, it's almost practically begging. "Please. This place- it ain't good for anyone. Me, especially but can't tell me it's done a bit of good for anyone other than who owns it."

He's right, as much as you loathe to admit it and it shows in how you purse your lips. "I'm not- I ain't agreeing to this, but tell me just what your hairbrained plan is."

As it turns out, Elvis's plan takes until the break of dawn to explain and two orders of room service delivered by one man who goes back downstairs and a woman who- well, served as Elvis's food until she fell limp in arms. There was something enrapturing about watching the act, watching how her mouth contorted into one of pleasure as she came in his arms before you could slowly see the life drain from her until his mouth came off her neck with a pop and a squelch. When he looks at you his lips are covered in her blood and he can't help but give you a toothy grin. "Sounds like you're jealous of her and me. Can't risk killing ya but maybe- maybe soon lil one."

That morning you call in and dream of his lips against your neck and of the pleasure he'd give you because- he doesn't want to kill you. You'd just get all the joys of being fed from but none of the tragedy. If you avoid him that night, you blame it on your shift. He doesn't call you out on the lie.

Planning arson between two people, one of whom has a larger bank account but can't leave his residence and the other who has a smaller bank account but can roam as she pleases is harder than one would think. Yet you both persevere, meeting up every other night to gather the items needed. What's been tripping you up for ages has been the floor plans and it shows in how you've been getting snappier with Elvis each passing meeting. He gives back in spades, somehow being worse than he was your first and second meetings but tonight- tonight he seems a little melancholy and a melancholy Elvis is a very human Elvis and one you find- one you could see a future with perhaps. A twisted one but one that flutters into your brain on nights you can't sleep or nights you can sleep despite dreams of the two of you mouths red and snarling as you feed.

"At this point ya might as well kill me." Your accent has been returning with a vengeance the more time you spend with Elvis any acting classes you had to train it out of you falling by the wayside. "We ain't gonna find a proper floor plan and without that we can't-"

"Y/N." His tone is laced with a warning- don't test him, not tonight. "I got time- wanna get this done but 'nother week ain't gonna hurt."

"Says the man who hasn't fed from me and is gonna live forever." Your eyes are blazing when you look at him before you continue. "I wanna get this over with. Wanna have- Wanna see if you'll do somethin' if we get it done."

Elvis's eyes narrow looking at you for a moment before he rubs his hand over his mouth. "Oh. That's- Lil Bunny. That's the problem? Ya want me t'do somethin' to ya? Have my wicked way with ya?"

You can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears before you can even articulate an answer. "That's not- Ya keep looking at me. Like- like I'm someone ya might wanna- No, I don't."

"Ya do." He moves to lean over your chair, putting your face at eye level with his chest. "Ya wanna know what it's like to be in my bed. Wanna know what it's like to please me."

You do, lord above you do. You're essentially committing a crime for him and for what? For the pleasure of knowing you've set fire to a horrible hotel? That you've freed him from this place? For nothing that gives you any satisfaction. "Is that so wrong? Ya won't kill me when there's a line of bodies I can probably trace back to your first year as a vampire. Ya won't feed from me because then where's your help for this silly scheme. Ya won't fuck me because-"

"Listen darlin, honey, satnin. I- I get a lil lonely up here. I know what ya gonna say- jus' leave but you've seen how it is." Seen how he can't leave the room for fear someone's going to actually realize that he's Elvis Presley and not some impersonator. Seen how people already mock the fact that he's still around- after all hadn't you? Seen how he looks out at the view of Vegas, almost wistful when he thinks you're not looking. "I haven't killed ya but- you're- ya remind me of how I was. Always been- the way I am but not not like this. Don't feel like ruinin' it is all."

His hand reaches out to touch your face and it's so gentle that you can't help but nuzzle into it and take a quick inhale of breath. "Elvis."

He hums, noting how your eyes shut and for the briefest of moments he remembers what it was like to have someone whisper his name like that. Like a prayer you're scared will float away and fail if you say it too loud. He's missed that, he's missed so much of what it was like to be human, to be able to live freely even if back in the day his freedom still had him confined. You just look so sweet nuzzling his palm, acting as if you're the love of his life, acting as if you belong there. Maybe that's why he had been cursed otherwise he doubts he would have made it to this decade or at least made it to this decade in a state you might have wanted him in. "Y/N?"

"Why are you being like this?" You whisper, still nuzzling at his palm. "You- From the stories I've heard you're- you've never been a completely good man. I haven't seen you be a good man."

Another hand, his free hand moves to cup the opposite side of your face and forces you to look up at him. His eyes always such a stormy blue with that ring of red since you came across him have taken on a lighter hue and it takes your breath away as you feel his thumbs stroke your cheek. "Haven't had a reason t'be one. Look where it got me, satnin. Haven't pushed ya away yet, maybe you're- maybe you're the thing to settle this violent angry head of mine. So pretty- so gentle when ya wanna be. Let me take care of ya, hm?"

His hand moves away from you and you chance it almost in a trance before you look at him and bite your lip. "Take care of me?" The subtext is clear as your heart starts to race and your legs clench together.

What was the harm in treating you tonight? Maybe it would give you the right incentive to find the floor plans, to look harder than you had been. Maybe that was the real trouble you were having. You were too distracted by your desire and want for him. His hand moves down to your chest, undoing the buttons of your blouse slowly. "Take care of ya. Jus' for tonight."

That night you find yourself gasping for air, screaming his name, arching your back and snarling all at once. You find that when you leave you play with the bite mark on your breast and shudder remembering his words said against your ear more than once. "Might make ya mine if ya do well enough."

It still takes another two weeks to get the floor plans, the proper up to date ones. Two weeks of finding yourself in Elvis's bed with him teasing you and making promises about his plans for you and him. But, as it turns out someone had been wanting to get a room at the hotel and well, you did work the front desk so you could handle getting them some accommodations for a fee of course. Elvis wastes no time in opening up the plans when you arrive that night with them in your hand, holding a bottle of champagne for you and the number of someone you had met on the bus for Elvis to enjoy his own drink. After she's on the floor and you're nursing your second flute of champagne you feel Elvis behind you wrapping his strong arms around your middle and pulling you close.

"Gonna turn ya when it's all ash. Won't be stuck here any longer, can do what I want again. Take ya all around the world." He whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping once he reaches your earlobe. "You're gonna look so fuckin' gourgous feedin'. Vicious as ya are. Ya did so good bringin' me dinner too. Wish I coulda shared her wit' ya. Soon, lil Bunny, soon."

There's an alarm in your head that goes off at those words, at the way he coos them while holding you. They feel off- fake somehow and you down that second glass the moment he lets go of you. Had- You knew very well he wasn't a nice man, you've known this from the second you first spoke but he- there's no way he has any intention of changing you. He might be obsessed with you but that's because you've been the only person who can handle herself well enough to do this, hadn't it? You were going to get him to the finish line of burning down the hotel only to what burn with it yourself? Take the fall for a dead man? You file away the thoughts in your head for a later moment, if you thought about them now Elvis would know.

You smile at him almost saccharine. "Ya mean it? I'll be your vicious lil vampire queen?"

He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss not caring that he still has a trace of blood on his lips. "The second it's up in smoke. Promise."

Liar.

Las Vegas in August is disgusting, better than some places in the United States, but it's still hotter than Hades and feels nearly as suffocating despite the lack of humidity. A fact you keep pointing out to Elvis as you both hold small cans of gas.

"Should've killed ya like the res' of 'em. No one would've missed ya. Jus' another lil' girl in Vegas runnin' 'round thinkin' she could make it big." You see a flash of his teeth and you figure it's supposed to scare you but at this point you like to think you know better.

"If ya killed me who would be helpin' ya right now?" The way you speak is practically a sneer but you can't help it, not with how he just somewhat threatened to kill you. "Hurry up, people are going to start coming back and I don't-"

"It's 11PM and they're in Vegas the hell are they-" He starts before he starts to trot off to the area he's most familiar with- the stages. "Meet me by the damn elevator."

An eye roll is the only response he gets as he leaves you to your own thoughts as you pour the can of gasoline in a line between the already waiting containers of it. If all goes well the walls of fire you and Elvis hope to create will have the entire building up in smoke in no time at all. It makes it so you both have to be quick on each floor but you had taken precautions for this. You knew every way to get down the floors as quickly as you could and Elvis wouldn't leave you behind. After all, he kept talking about his lil' spitfire queen. Kept cooing the words at you in between planning and buying the gas and finding yourself spread across his sheets or above him.

And yet something felt different, you had that same feeling you did when he talked about how gorgeous you'd look feeding. It felt off. You try to shake the feeling away as you two reach the top of the building, his penthouse suite and cover it in extra gasoline. He wanted every bit of this room demolished, nothing salvageable but to do that you are currently feeling faintly high on the sheer amount of gasoline in the room and wondering just how no embers from the cigar he just lit have fallen yet. You almost miss the words he says when he looks over at you. "Ready to run?"

A shrug is your only answer before you try and take a deep breath. "Get in the elevator first, then toss it."

He obliges, letting you go first with a flourish that rather than delight you has your hackles raising. "Ladies first."

Elvis Presley used to be a gentleman. Elvis Presley is not a gentleman any more.

Right before the doors to the elevator close Elvis tosses his cigar between the door and as they shut you feel the rush of heat from the roaring blast it caused. This is the only floor you have to take the elevator for and it makes each consecutive floor easier. You both light a cigar and toss before running to the next floor, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat even as Elvis pulls you in for a harsh kiss his eyes blazing in the fire he had started with his cigar, looking practically manic with delight. The fire brings out the red in his eyes. It scares you.

"Calm down, Lil' Bunny. Almost there." He shouts practically sing songing the words as you rush down yet another flight of stairs to the second floor. "One more floor and you're mine. We'll be free. I'll be free."

There it is again, that nagging feeling that you're a means to an end for him. You brush it off one final time as you start to cough, the floors of smoke and blaring alarms of a sprinkler system that hasn't produced any water getting to you. "Jus' want this done, 'Vis."

Finally you reach the final floor, the bottom floor which is the most complicated. There's an extra exit, a fire exit in the stage area so you both agree that's the last room, that's the last place to be set ablaze and Elvis finds it almost poetic when he thinks about it. He stares at the doors for a moment before he enters with you, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world. He might, he might be able to run out of there fast enough but the smoke is starting to get to you and the heat from the blaze above and around you is making the area around you sweltering. "You said you'd turn me, Elvis. Once we get outside, right?" You have to shout before you cough over the roar of the blaze and how somehow it's starting blow toward you as you shut the door to leave you and him in the lone area not on fire yet.

The cigar in his mouth is lit and he contemplates knocking off the tip, letting it start to catch everything ablaze before he stops himself and nods. "Course, gonna do it the second you get some air in ya."

Your own cigar- the last cigar is lit and you're about to toss it before you stare at him, stare at him because that tone- that tone betrays his actual plan. "Why not now? I can- I can barely breathe in here, Elvis."

Those words have him tossing his cigar and have a whoosh of fire come up behind him as he walks towards you. "You'll be fine, lil spitfire. Y/N. You don't- Patience. Don't wanna rush forever."

Your mind goes blank as you drop the cigar you were holding and have to jump out of the way as a bit of fire starts to separate you and Elvis. He glances at the fire and growls, realizing he's very quickly going to be boxed in before he wooshes to a spot next to you. "Tryin' to kill me? 'Cause I won't-"

A crash can be heard of a bit of wood falling onto the stage and you jump before you cut him off. "Because you're not plannin' on it. Ya gonna- You're plannin' on killin' me, aren't ya?"

"Eatin' ya, actually. It's what ya wanted back when ya first saw me eat. Wanted to be fucked then sucked. I fucked ya now-" His words are cut off with a slap that he allows you to do because it gives him the ability to grab at your wrist. "Loose end, lil one. Either you go down for this or ya die. Gave ya the more pleasurable option."

"While telling me you were going to change me!" You snarl half running toward the door even as you inhale another bit of smoke causing you to cough more. "You- You've been usin' me this whole damn time! I- you said you'd make me your little queen."

He's faster and he has you pinned up against a wall as he feels the flames starting to inch toward you both and as you keep swallowing more and more smoke. "Ya called me a damn has been and a joke. Darlin' ya don't wanna spend eternity wit' me, ya jus' wanna run around spending an eternity doing whatever the hell ya want to do. Ain't gonna give ya something you think is a gift."

"You- I'm- I can't breathe." You choke out as you try and take deep breaths only to realize that the room is filling with grey smoke. He's fine because he doesn't need to breathe but you- you need air.

"Shame I didn't change ya before. Didn't give ya what ya wanted to use me for. Don't care 'bout me. Lil Memphis spitfire don't care 'bout the thing everyone loves 'bout the place. No wonder your mama and daddy don't want ya to come back." His tone is mocking as he keeps you pinned to the wall, despite inching himself closer to the door. He was going to escape and you were going to die by smoke inhalation if the fire didn't kill you first.

A breath of air enters your lungs suddenly as you find that Elvis lets you go, a bit of the fire catching onto his pant leg right as he reaches the door with you. You seize the opportunity and hit at the door with your body, trying to force it open as he steps on the offending burning fabric. even as another crash can be heard on the stage and you see more and more paint chips fluttering around both of you, or maybe that's ash you've never seen a fire this big. The door finally flings open and more fresh air for your lungs and to feed the fire. Elvis whooshes over to you and attempts to block your way out but for once you have the upper hand, managing to be on the outside of the building while Elvis is still just barely in there. He realizes his mistake, realizes what you just very well might do to him in an instant.

"Lil Bunny- I'll- Don't be rash. I'll do it. I'll do what I said I would." He coos even as the fire rushes around him, his hair becoming more messed up the more he stands there. His face getting more ashes on it the longer he stands there.

"Liar. Liar." You tilt your head and move to push him inside. "Pants on fire."

His eyes look down thinking you're telling him his pants are literally on fire and you take that as your opportunity to shut the door, locking it in a way only you know how. Within a moment he starts to push at the door.

"Y/N!" He shouts through the door. "I'll do it, just let me outta here! I'm- Ya don't want this on your conscious! I wasn't gonna kill ya! Baby- Darlin- Lil Bunny, let me out!"

"Not gonna believe a lyin' dead man, Presley!" You shout, knowing that you sound insane before you start to move away because he's right you don't want that on your conscious. You hear him shouting promises you doubt he'll keep and feel the fresh bite he had made on your chest burn as you walk away but you're able to fake being a victim among the crowd, the ashes covering your face and the way you keep coughing as the building burns and as you swear you hear a series of Southern curses in the wind.

The bite scars over and aches from time to time.

They don't find his body. You try and not let it keep you up at night.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley angst #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley #austin elvis x reader #austin butler elvis x you #austin butler elvis #austin butler elvis x reader #austin elvis angst #austin elvis x you #vampire elvis #austin elvis x y/n #austin butler elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #ally writes

[lady-bess]

Just A Date - Frankie Morales

Part of the LadyBess Valentine's special! 8 Characters; 8 Dates 💜

Frankie Morales x GN!Reader Mature/18+ (Minors DNI Please✨) WC: 1.8k Notable Tags: Valentine's Date, Picnic, Feeding Strawberries to each other, Can you see how this almost became NSFW?, Pet Names, Kissing, Cuddling, Jokes at Santiago's Expense, Canon that Frankie drives a beaten up truck, References to Delta Force.

Oh, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. A Pedro character with all the potential to be the Golden Child in the cinematic universe, if there weren’t a certain narcotic substance he was rather friendly with. Poor, silly, Frankie…

But! There is a world that exists where he’s on top of his shit, has a license, and has perhaps undergone some therapy to deal with the inevitable PTSD that man likely has from being with Delta Force (seriously, what is it with Pedro characters needing therapy? My god…).

Frankie is for sure an old romantic at heart – he had to bag “his lady” somehow, right? But let’s take her out the picture for a moment, and imagine what antics our pilot might get up with his sweetheart.

Also, this one very nearly got away from me and became NSFW...personally I'm going to blame Frankie, not me. He saw an opening and ran for it (pun not intended).

It was a rare day off for Frankie, and he’d spent most the morning meticulously planning what it was he had in mind for you tonight. You’d not been dating long, and you’d never really wanted to make a fuss about Valentine’s day, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something.

All you knew was that Frankie was going to pick you up at lunch time, and that was all the information he’d given you. That, and you would need to wrap up warm (but given it was early February, that was a given anyway).

He was right on time, arriving in his truck outside your house at just turned one o’clock. If there was one thing Frankie was well known for, it was his punctuality. Years of being part of Delta Force helped with that, and it was one thing he was never going to give up it seemed. Smiling to yourself as you watched him pull up, you threw on your jacket and headed outside, waving over to Frankie to avoid him needing to get out the truck.

Frankie leaned over in the front of the truck’s cabin to open your door from the inside – since getting back from his last deployment, Frankie had been driving around the same beaten up truck that he’d first bought when he was eighteen, years before he first joined Delta. It was years passed being needed replacing, but for as long as the engine still kept running, Frankie kept driving it. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” he’d so often say whenever Pope asked when he was replacing the truck.

You found it amusing, really, and played into the joke Frankie and Pope had with the truck by occasionally buying Frankie an air freshener called “New Car Smell”. It started as a laugh one day, but since then it had become a semi-regular gag the two of you kept up with. Today was no exception.

“Here,” you said as you hopped in the truck, “Got you a little something for valentine’s day,” you said, passing Frankie a thin pink envelope. He felt the size of the contents and chuckled to himself, immediately making out the familiar shape and size of the item in the envelope. He opened it and laughed out loud as he pulled out another air freshener for his car, this one in the shape of a heart, but with the same “New Car Smell” sprawled on the heart in pink writing. Frankie grinned and hung it on his mirror immediately, then turned to kiss your cheek.

“And this, cariño, is why I love you,” he said.

“And I love watching you make Pope squirm about the age of your truck,” you giggled, putting your seatbelt on. “Now, where are you taking me?” you asked.

Frankie chuckled, starting the engine up and pulling out from the space he had just pulled into. He looked over his shoulder for traffic coming the other way, tilting his head up slightly to see better under the rim of his cap.

“You’ll see, my love. We ain’t got far to go!” he said, and with that he pulled the truck out.

Frankie only drove for a couple of minutes before pulling into a parking lot close to the nearby park. He hopped out of the truck and walked around to your side, opening the door and holding you by the waist, lifting you out onto the tarmac below. You giggled as he did, resting your hands on his shoulders for stability.

“Frankie, I am quite capable of getting out your truck!” you said, and Frankie leant forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I know, but I’d feel remiss if I didn’t put in a little effort! It is valentine’s day, after all,” he said, winking at you as he opened the back seat of the truck. Leaning forward into the cabin, he pulled out a small rucksack, and put it on over one of his shoulders.

“You know I never expected you to do anything today, right?” you said, and Frankie nodded as he locked up the truck.

“I know, cariño, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t do anything!” he said, rather smugly, and then he linked his hand in yours and began walking with you away from the truck.

You and Frankie walked for a little while, round the winding paths of the park and past the rows or winter flowers that were still in bloom. Patches of snowdrops had begun blooming alongside the pathway of the park, and in a way it did look like a small amount of snow had been scattered along the track. Fortunately, the cold snap had held off, and the weather was rather mild for this time of year.

“Alright, this way!” Frankie said, squeezing your hand and taking you off the path into a large expanse of open grassland. A few people nearby sat with their lunches, some choosing to sit closer to the pond to feed the ducks, others with children going closer to the adventure playpark in an attempt to wear out their little ones.

You let Frankie lead you to a small clearing where nobody was immediately nearby; you could still see and hear passerby’s, but you weren’t close enough to actually make out what anyone’s conversations were.

“This’ll do brilliantly!” Frankie said, dropping the bag from his shoulder and tearing into it, yanking the drawstring which kept it closed. You stood back and watched him pull out a few boxes, a couple of bottles, and then finally a red tartan blanket. He looked up at you as he placed everything on the ground, laying the blanket out flat, and then sat down. Patting the ground next to him, you chuckled and sat next to him.

“A picnic?” you asked, and Frankie nodded. He took his cap off and ran one hand through his curly brown hair, before fixing the cap back to his head again.

“Yes, cariño. It isn’t much, but I hope you like what I’ve brought?” he said.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” you said, leaning into him and kissing his cheek tenderly. “But go on, show me the goods!” you giggled.

Frankie smiled and kissed the top of your head, then grabbed the boxes he’d brought with him. Opening them up, lay before you was an array of small sandwiches, a couple of salads each, vegetarian sausage rolls, and a little box of chocolate coated strawberries. For drinks Frankie had just packed some elderflower pressé and two bottles of ginger ale, with the park not allowing alcoholic beverages to be drunk in public.  

“Frankie, this all looks lovely!” you said, “Thank you,” you smiled, leaning into him a little more. Frankie wrapped his arm around you, keeping you close to his side.

“Oh that makes me so happy,” he sighed in relief, chuckling under his breath as he kissed the top of your head again. “I was so worried it wasn’t a very exciting spread. In my head it was great, but then I put it together and couldn’t help but feel like it was a bit inadequate!”.

“Not at all!” you said, turning to look up at Frankie. His eyes met yours, so full of love and adoration, and in that moment you felt like you would melt on the very spot if he looked at you like that much longer. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you said.

Frankie grinned and then leant down to gently kiss you, the cold tip of his nose brushing against yours before his lips landed on you. Kissing him back, you sighed into his hold and relaxed, and for a fleeting moment it was like your first kiss all over again. That was some kind of magic that you and Frankie seemed to always retain; every kiss was like the beginning, where butterflies ran rife and you giggled after each time he dipped his tongue into your mouth.

“No, you’re perfect!” Frankie whispered as he broke your kiss. You rolled your eyes but laughed together, sitting comfortably in each other’s presence for a moment before turning your attention to the spread he’d provided.

Frankie went straight for the chocolate coated strawberries, which didn’t surprise you one iota. He was a big kid at heart, and you imagined as a child he probably defied his mother’s every wish for him to finish his dinner before moving onto sweet treats. Either that or he was now rebelling in adulthood and making up for lost time.

“Can I feed you one?” he asked, gingerly picking one strawberry up by the stalk. You giggled and shuffled in your seat to face him.

“Isn’t that a bit corny?” you teased, and Frankie rolled his eyes, laughing with you.

“Maybe, but perhaps I’m corny!” he said, “Come on, open wide!”. You smirked and winked at Frankie.

“Might be the first time you’ve said that without then presenting my with your cock to suck,” you whispered, sucking in your bottom lip to stifle a devilish grin as you watched Frankie’s mouth drop open in shock at what you just said.

“You’re pure filth, you know that?” he said, leaning forward and placing the tip of the strawberry on your lips. “Go on, cariño, open up,” he whispered.

You did as he asked, parting your lips gently and letting the warmth of your tongue begin to melt the chocolate on the tip of the strawberry. Frankie pushed it in slightly further until there was enough for you to warrant biting down on. His eyes never left your face as you did, watching intently as you slowly took the fruit from the tips of his fingers, smirking as you pulled back to chew on it.

“Nice?” he asked, and you nodded, smiling.

“Delicious, Frankie. Thank you, again. This is so lovely,” you said.

“Anything for you, my love,” he said, popping a strawberry into his own mouth now and smiling with you, his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.

For more from this series, check out the Just A Date Masterlist! For more works from me, here's my main Masterlist! ❤

LadyBess xox

#pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier #santiago garcia #sfw #fluff #valentines day #gender neutral reader #reader insert fic #reader insert #feeding strawberries #this almost got out of hand